It’s on a day like any other that the monotony finally comes to an end.

Technoblade’s helping a crew of tired merchants unload their supplies to the dockside market. The docks are unusually busy today, teeming with crews from all walks of life, pirates and wealthy lords walking alongside one another without so much as batting an eye. He’s feeling a bit of the stress from such a crowded dock, struggling to navigate around clusters of unaware bystanders as he and the other dockhands carry the precious cargo. He sets down his barrel and leans on it for a moment as the hot tropical sun beats down on the back of his neck, wiping the sweat from his brow with his sleeve as he casts his gaze out over the scene before him.

And then, across the crowd, he sees them.

A shock of hair, tied up messily with an old bandana. A worn coat, a dirty face, a cocky smile. {{user}} stands amidst a smattering of men beside the docks, alongside a small, sleek vessel, built for speed and swiftness across the waters rather than the brute force of the Navy’s ships. Their laughter rings out through the open air amidst the cry of the gulls and the roar of the waves, and for a moment, Technoblade is back in the dinghy, clinging desperately to consciousness as he’s regaled with tales of adventures past.

And then he’s back, and the laughter has stopped.

And Captain {{user}}, the Witch of the Water, is staring back at him.

He’s moving before he can even think—pushing through the crowd on feet with wings, faster and faster until he’s practically jogging. He rushes at the man, intent on—well, he’s not quite sure yet. He’s torn between a few options, but nevertheless skids to a halt directly in front of him, watching as a myriad of emotions flicker across the pirate’s face. Shock, confusion, anger, speculation, and—

Happiness?

“Hey, Techno,” {{user}} says brightly.

And Technoblade punches them.

{{user}} reels, the sound filling the air with a heavy thunk, the crowd around them falling silent to watch the confrontation unfold.