Chapter Text
NEW BERGENTSTEN HIGH DRANA CLOB
Meetigns in D-05 emtpy classroom
Thursdays - 2nd half of lunhc
Contact Wimbler for more info :D
“What do we think?” Tubbo asks.
He shows off the poster from his google doc. Wilbur and Tommy stop in the middle of the hallway, squinting at his phone. The text is yellow on black, and the page is peppered with stock images of baby animals.
“Erm… let me make some revisions before you make copies,” Wilbur says.
“WIMBLER! You are never living this down, you’ll be Wimbler for the rest of your goddamn life,” Tommy says.
“I’d say you’re just taking the piss but you still call him Tubbo,” Wilbur says.
“I like Tubbo. It rolls off the tongue- Tubbo. Also, this is just a mockup, I’m not dense,” Tubbo says.
“You could have fooled me, man,” Tommy says.
On their way to the spare classroom, the pair play fight and tease each other until they open the door, and all of them go wide-eyed. Several people are stood around the room, chatting amongst themselves. Dream gets up from a desk and meets them at the door.
“School website said you meet Thursdays. What took you guys so long?”
“Uh- I- wh-” Wilbur stutters.
“It’s Thursdays after 12:45. Let’s not waste any more time, right?” Tommy says. He tugs Wilbur by the arm to a corner of the classroom. “What’s our game plan?”
“I- I don’t know, honestly,” Wilbur says.
Dream approaches them and takes Wilbur aside.
“They can wait a bit longer. Can we talk?” he asks.
“What about?” Wilbur asks back.
“How much do you know about the logistics of running a musical production?” Dream asks.
“Well, I’ve been scriptwriting for over five years, and I’m producing my own solo album-”
“So you can tackle construction, costuming, makeup, and advertising? Not to mention licensing, theatre rental, funding, and general resource allocation or operating a production of this scale?” Dream says.
“Well, I figured that-”
“Let me do the figuring for you. I want to be your manager.”
Wilbur frowns, prepared to decline the offer, confident in his abilities to tackle everything himself. Looking at the full room, he deliberates all of those points. He’s right- Wilbur hadn’t thought of any of the behind-the-scenes. Part of him assumed their dad would handle it, or he’d deal with those issues as they came.
“So, Clay-”
“Dream.”
“So Dream . What are you asking for in return? Surely you don’t want to do all the thankless busywork out of the kindness of your own heart,” Wilbur says.
“Let me be the face of this project. I’ll be the lead- the poster boy. We direct, write, and produce fifty-fifty. I want to create something, and you can’t do this alone,” Dream says. Before Wilbur can reply, he extends a hand. “So it’s a deal?”
Wilbur takes his hand with a sigh.
“Deal.”
“Great. Take it away, partner,” Dream says.
He sits on top of his desk, pulling his legs up into a criss-cross. Dream looks expectantly, and everyone goes quiet, waiting for Wilbur to start. Watching the sea of waiting faces, he clears his throat, taking his place at the front.
“Hello… everyone. I'm not completely sure how to introduce myself, honestly, I'm kind of freaking out right now," Wilbur says, laughing nervously. He scans the class and meets eyes with Tommy, who gives him a thumbs-up and encouraging look.
Time to do what you do, Wilbur.
"Today, we begin a story. Today, we lay the foundation from which we'll build a musical. I want to open the floor and let each person introduce themselves as a character,” he says.
Grabbing an ink pen, he opens his notebook and draws out a t-table.
“I’ll start and show you. I am Wilbur Soot- a visionary, a poet, a man driven by determination and armed with his words. We’ll use these characters as an icebreaker and a starting point; anyone want to volunteer?” he asks.
“Yeah,” Dream says. “I think it'd be interesting to build off our existing roleplay. I'm-”
“Shut up. I’m Tommy, I’m fucking awesome and strong, and I always win,” Tommy says.
“...Right. I’ll write that down,” Wilbur says.
“As I was saying- I’m Dream. I’m a harbinger of chaos, god amongst men, and I rule those under me with conviction."
"I'm Tubbo."
"And… care to elaborate?" Wilbur asks.
"No," Tubbo says, smiling.
Wilbur chuckles and writes down "Tubbo" on both sides of the chart. Tommy nods in agreement.
"I'm Badboyhalo, but you can call me Bad. I'm- um- super hardcore! And I help everyone I meet," he says matter-of-factly.
"I'm GeorgeNotFound. I don't know what I do, but I'll figure it out."
Alright. Wilbur figures he can come back to that and draws a question mark. Hopefully, he remembers to write something for George later.
“I’m Ponk and I like exploring personal enterprises.”
“Okay, what does that mean?” Wilbur asks.
“Oh, you’ll find out,” Ponk says with a cheeky smile.
“That’s cryptic. Moving on,” Wilbur responds.
"Oh, is it my turn? Sadnap. I destroy shit. I do what I want. Don't cross me."
"Are you actually still pressed over Tommy bullying you about your name?" Dream asks.
"No. It just wasn't cool enough," Sadnap grumbles.
"Oh! I get it, it's Pandas backwards! I think that’s cuter," Bad says.
Sadnap pouts, getting a sympathetic pat on the back. Nobody else speaks up, and Wilbur scans to see if everyone’s talked. He spots someone sitting quietly in the back, and gestures at him to speak.
“Go ahead, Callahan, I’ll translate,” Bad says.
Callahan perks up, pulling down the sleeves of his Captain America hoodie. He signs to Bad, who nods along.
“Callahan says he’s a comic relief, but he’s not very outspoken,” Bad says.
Callahan plays a rimshot from a soundboard on his phone. When everyone stays silent, unsure if they can reply, he signs something else to Bad. “He says you guys are a tougher crowd than he is."
The group erupt in laughter, Callahan mouthing the words, “that’s all, folks,” and tipping an imaginary hat.
“Is that everyone?” Wilbur asks.
“Awesamdude has a project for an upcoming ag mechanics fair, he’ll try to join once the event’s over,” Dream says.
“What the hell is ag mechanics?” Wilbur asks.
“Agriculture. You know, rural area,” Dream says.
“This is a strange, strange, place,” Wilbur muses.
“Tell me about it,” George says.
“Oh, how long ago did you move here?” Wilbur asks.
“I haven’t. Exchange student, from London. Just spending my upper sixth here,” George replies.
Dream seems troubled, chewing on his lip. His confident, cocky persona drops for half a second before he changes the subject.
“So there’s been a bit of a war going on in our server. Tommy and Pandas have been causing quite the problem battling it out with Ponk and Alyssa. They’re determined to incite war on my land, and I’m not having it,” Dream says. Sadnap glares at him at his former name.
“I was only in it for fun until you took my goddamned discs! Now it’s personal!” Tommy yells.
“Well Sadnap burned down lemon tree two, you guys started it!” Ponk retaliates.
“You should know better than to value something on the server!” Sadnap yells back.
“This is good, good! We have conflict!” Wilbur says, taking notes.
“Wait- so you’re letting us make the plot Minecraft?” Tommy asks.
“Minecraft inspired . I’m not intent on digging ourselves a copy-right related hole,” Wilbur says. “I say, we begin our stories as they are- Tommy, Tubbo, and I are travelers from distant lands that have decided to settle on Dream’s kingdom.”
“I still want to do Breaking Bad,” Tommy complains.
“Fine, you want your character to sell drugs? You can sell drugs,” Wilbur huffs.
“Oh, we can live in a campervan and scam people! We’re thick as thieves, Tubbo, Tommy, and Wilbur taking their share from the man,” Tubbo says.
“Wait, why am I involved in this now?” Wilbur asks.
“Who is the man?” Tommy asks.
“You know, the man! The man . Big man,” Tubbo replies.
“Before you can be a successful cartel, you need to create a power vacuum and become the only product on the market. I know some people here are definitely already cracked up,” Wilbur says.
Everyone turns to look at Sadnap.
“What?”
“Well, we all know what you’re doing now. We’ll just arrest you,” Dream says.
“How do you know what we’re doing? Maybe it’s just a hot dog van? Assuming the foreigners are up to no good; that’s very American of you, Dream,” Wilbur says.
“I like my kingdom run to my standards. I don’t tolerate childish behavior- but it seems like that’s the only behavior Tommy can manage,” Dream says.
“Hey! We’re the same age. If you’re going to call him a child, you might as well call me one too!” Tubbo says.
“Fine, you’re both children,” George says.
“And you- I thought that I’d found another proper Englishman, but you’re slumming it with the Americans!” Tommy yells. “I reckon Wilbur, Tubbo, and I can make our own land. No Americans allowed, how ‘bout that?”
“What? You can’t just come in here and wreak havoc, decide you don’t like it, and claim your own nation in my kingdom,” Dream argues.
“It ain’t your kingdom anymore, bitch boy!” Tommy argues back.
“Language!”
Dream and Tommy engage in a shouting match, drawing the others into a grand crescendo of petty arguments. While everyone is yelling at each other, making their stakes to fictional land, money, valuables, or women (which was mostly just Tommy), the bell cuts all of them off mid-sentence. The magic of being lost in a story of their own creation is trampled by the reminder that lunch is over.
“Well. It seems we have a good place to start,” Wilbur says, flexing his hand after his rapid scribbling. He adjusts his glasses and packs up his things.
“I thought this would be kind of stupid. I’m impressed. Tommy makes for good entertainment,” Sadnap says.
“Shut up, Panda boy,” Tommy spits.
“Okay, okay, that’s enough. We’ll pick this up next week. Before then, I want each of you to develop your characters. Draw a sketch- it doesn’t need to be good- and give me a design. Next time we meet, I want us to be able to continue where we left off. This looks like it’s going to be good, guys,” Wilbur says.
One by one, they file out and go to their respective classes. Dream lingers behind, smiling at Wilbur raptly.
“Can’t wait to see where this goes. See you later, Wilbur,” he says, turning to join George and Sadnap as they make towards the hallway.
Tommy, Tubbo, and Wilbur are left there, buzzing with pride and excitement for what the future holds.
“Good on you, Wil. This is going to really be something,” Tubbo says.
“ I can’t wait to carry the entire story,” Tommy says.
“You boast, but you’d make a great protagonist,” Wilbur says. Tommy rolls his eyes and flips him off, but he insists. “No, no, actually. You have incredible potential as an actor, and your persona is funny as hell.”
“Shut up, dickhead. You’re just saying that ‘cause you’re my brother,” Tommy says.
“Yeah, you’re my brother and you’ve got potential, you little shit. Stop selling yourself short- you too, Tubbo,” Wilbur says.
“Aww, thank you Wil,” Tubbo says.
“Yeah. What he said,” Tommy mumbles. “You still suck.”
“Fuck you too,” Wilbur chuckles, a fond smile on his face.
His head is already stirring with ideas- plots of triumph, hardship, betrayal- tomorrow can't come soon enough.