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Tommy woke up feeling tired, which was just fucking typical. He always felt tired nowadays. He’d had this theory that he wasn’t getting enough vitamins, and his skin was going to come off and his muscles were gonna turn into stringy bits and his teeth were going to fall out of his head and he’d lose them on the floor, but he’d been sure to eat at least a gapple a day, when he remembered to lift them from Techno’s stores, and it was still like he always woke up a few hours earlier than he meant to. Despite the fact that he was, in fact, waking up late. Early afternoon in the sub-basement he’d carved out under Techno’s house, Tommy ran a hand over his face. His head hurt.
“It’s gonna be a great fuckin’ day for big man Tommyinnit, and if anyone has a problem with me I’m gonna fuckin’ kill them and take all their stuff, and everything’s going to go great,” he said into the half-shadow. Light was filtering down from the entry ladder to get down here.
His voice fell into the room as unconvincing as Wilbur saying everything was going to be alright again. He could hear the sounds of Techno’s villagers above him, and the rest of the house was quiet. Tommy decided to believe it anyways and pushed himself to his feet, climbing the ladder into the rest of Techno’s house. He felt the need to go look for some gapples.
Techno’s house was disorganised, so really Tommy was doing him a fucking favour by going through his shit. If things were where they should be, where Tommy put them, it would be much easier to find them. He emerged from a chest and sat back on his heel, slightly out of breath as he pocketed some spare ender pearls. “Where the fuck did he put them, anyways?”
“Where did he put what?” The voice came from way too close, and Tommy flinched backwards and to the side, hand scrabbling for a weapon he couldn’t get out of his hotbar fast enough for some fucking reason.
He got it out finally, seconds after an enemy would have had an axe in his leg. “Don’t fuckin’ sneak up on people like that!” he spluttered out, pointing the weapon at the person who’d been behind him.
It was Ghostbur, smiling as he drifted over Techno’s basement floor. The gash on his chest was slowly dripping. “I said was here,” he said. Ghostbur’s grin grew a bit. “Did I scare you? I like scaring you when it’s for fun.” It looked like he’d gotten in through the door out by the stables Tommy had left open earlier, when he had been looking for pictures of women (Technoblade, disappointingly, mostly had pictures of himself.) Ghostbur reached out and tweaked the point of the sword pointed at him. “You don’t have to do that, I’m already dead, silly. Hitting me with a sword isn’t going to do anything!”
Tommy put his sword back in his inventory, setting his teeth. “I already know you’re fuckin’ dead,” he said. “I saw it.” Tommy cleared his throat, turning his attention back to the chest he’d been sorting through. Was that extra iron in there? That was useful. He’d take better care of that than Technoblade. “Bit of a shit death if you ask me,” he said, pocketing the iron and not looking behind him. “Tubbo got blown up in front of a whole crowd and it was all dramatic an’ shit, you just got Philza Minecraft to hit you with a sword a couple times.” He dug deeper into the chest, under where the iron had been. Anything more interesting in here? “The TNT was pretty good, I guess,” he allowed. “That broke a lot of shit.”
“Oh, I don’t remember dying, but you already told me my death was very dramatic!” Ghostbur said, still hovering behind him, still too close. Tommy almost imagined he could feel a cold breath on his neck, though that might have been the draft from the door. “You said that I shouldn’t have done that, and that you cried about it, and that didn’t make sense, because everything’s better now! I was on the other side of the tent, looking at some dandelions, so I think you didn’t know you were telling me that.” Ghostbur paused, voice wondering. “I think. I’m not sure that I remember that very well.”
“I didn’t tell you that,” Tommy said snapped. He closed the chest. “I never cry, and your death was garbage, and mine would have been way better, if I did it.” He spun around to look at Ghostbur, poking him in the chest with a finger. “My death is gonna be way fuckin’ better, when I do it, and everybody’s gonna fuckin’ cry and say they wished they paid more attention to me, and my millions of wives are gonna post sad TikToks about me and say they are never gonna be happy again, and Tubbo’s gonna name L’Manberg after me so it’s gonna be Tommyberg, except that would be garbage, causes it’s supposed to be named like you made it, cause it’s supposed to be good, like you made it.”
Ghostbur blinked at him, blue tears slipping from his eyes with no apparent grief. “L’Manberg is good, though! It’s all set up and built up now, and Tubbo is organising everything, and it’s good now! They even had a party in the main square.” He held out a hand. “You’re quite upset, that’s not good. Have some blue.”
Tommy held out his hand begrudgingly, allowing Ghostbur to drip blue into it. “I don’t wanna hear about stupid fuckin’ parties Tubbo’s having without me,” he said.
“Oh, but it was very exciting!” Ghostbur told him. “Technoblade was there, and Phil, and Tubbo, and Quackity, and lots of other people I forget about! They built a platform for the party in the middle of town.”
A door opened on the ground floor, and Tommy looked upwards. Technoblade was back in his house. “Tommy?” he said. “Who’re you talkin’ to?”
“Nobody!” Tommy said, pushing Ghostbur towards the door. His hands sunk into his chest, cold and tingling with the after-effects of a player not quite in this world. “Not talkin’ to anybody, and you should greet your guests better than that, Technoblade.” Tommy got the ghost out the door and slammed it, waving a hand up at the next floor. “You should say good mornin’ Tommyinnit, it’s an honour to have you in my house, how can I best give you a gift of ten pieces of netherite and a wither skull, and also arrange for you to get two girlfriends, and also fuckin’ pay you in diamonds for my time?” His heart was pounding fast in his chest, for some reason.
There was a pause. “I think if you’re waitin’ on that you might be waitin’ a while, Tommy,” Technoblade said. His footsteps moved over the floor.
Tommy leaned on the chest that he’d been going through, looking upwards. “Oh, so the great Techno the Blade can’t even say good mornin’ to his guests? Wait till I tell people, everyone’s gonna point at you and throw things. They’re gonna go neeernah that’s Technoblade, he doesn’t understand basic manners, he’s basically the same as one of those gross fish full of lasers that Tubbo is fuckin’ killin’ with redstone. And people should kill Technoblade for dead cod and eat it for lunch, and get stronger and leave him behind. That’s what people are gonna say to you, Technoblade, and it’s gonna be deserved, too.”
“Good mornin’, Tommy,” Technoblade said dryly. The ladder creaked as he started down it. “Does the fact that it’s afternoon have an impact on me gettin’ publicly shamed, or can we leave that by the wayside?”
“It’s afternoon and you haven’t even fed me breakfast yet? Technoblade, I’m ashamed even to be seen in your company, I’m telling you,” Tommy said. He watched Technoblade descend the ladder, feeling out the edges of the chest behind him. His fingertips were cold. “No wonder you don’t have a wife or a girlfriend, it’s because you treat your guests fuckin’ horribly .”
“What were you doin’ in my chests, Tommy,” Technoblade asked, villainously ignoring the salient points about his lack of wife or girlfriend. He raised a pink eyebrow. “That’s private property.”
“What are you hidin’ that you don’t want people to see, huh?” Tommy responded, glaring. He’d got his finger pressed into the seam of the chest and it felt sharp enough that it might cut his fingertip. He pushed his hand into the chest harder. “If you don’t have anything to fuckin’ hide, why are you worked up about people goin’ though your stuff? We should be united as allies, working together, Technoblade, towards common fuckin’ goals.”
“Oh I have a lot of stuff to hide,” Technoblade said. He crossed his arms across his chest. “For reasons that mostly involve extreme violence, as you know.” He reached out to tap the edge of the chest behind Tommy. “Move, Tommy.”
Technoblade’s arm was right there, and Tommy briefly considered biting it. It would be very natural and normal to lean over and chomp the person who unwisely got too close to him. Deserved, even. Tubbo would probably find it hilarious. Wilbur would laugh at him. Neither of those people were in much state to make laugh though, and some twist in his gut kept him from doing it to the Blade. Tommy stepped forward and slung an arm around Techno’s shoulders, leaning on him conspiratorially. “Technoblade, do you know what I appreciate about you?” He nodded sagely. “Your taste for violence. Pogtopia was wise to keep you on our side, and now that we’re working together again, we’re gonna do great things.”
Technoblade didn’t look at him. “That’s not what I remember happenin’ with Pogtopia,” he said. He opened the chest. “Tommy, where are my ender pearls?”
Tommy blinked innocently. The twist in his stomach was still there, which was stupid. Tommyinnit was a big man, and he didn’t get sick, and he didn’t have regrets, and he went straight for what he wanted and fuckin’ took it. He was great with people, once they got over the first bit. “In your ender chest, maybe?”
Technoblade looked at him, remarkably sarcastic looking for someone with minimal movement in his expression. “I’m not askin’ for word association, Tommy, I’m askin’ for where you put my stuff.”
Tommy crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t know where your stupid fuckin’ ender pearls are, I was lookin’ for gapples, because I’m starvin’ to death, but I couldn’t find them, so I’m gonna die in your basement and it’s gonna be your fault, and Philza Minecraft’s gonna come down and cry on my corpse and cry all over the basement and it’s gonna flood and wash all your villagers away and everyone is gonna say serves you fuckin’ right for being mean to TommyInnit.”
Technoblade looked at him, and Tommy was once again aware that he was in a small stone box with the man. His stomach hurt. He glared back. Technoblade looked in the chest again, and then back at Tommy. “Ah-huh,” he said. He closed the chest, and then turned to head back towards the ladder leading out of the basement. “That’s not where my gapples are kept.” There was the slightest smile in his voice. “Which I thought you’d have figured out by now.”
“Wait, what’s that supposed to mean?” Tommy protested as Technoblade exited. “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean? Where are the gapples, Technoblade? Fuck you, anyways! I’m going to take all your stuff, and I’m going to give it to the deserving poor!”
“So to yourself?” Technoblade asked from the floor above. “Can’t think of many people poorer on the server, at this point.”
“Fuck you, Technoblade, I’m rich and successful, and I’m a big man, and I don’t need your help for anything!” Tommy yelled through the floor. “I’m gonna eat all your gapples and then die!”
“Don’t die, I need you for my plans,” Technoblade said. There was the sound of a chest closing on the floor above. “I’m goin’ minin’, try not to break anything while I’m gone?”
“I’m going to break everything! And blow it up!” Tommy yelled. “You sound like Schlatt, and you’re gonna die in a van, probably! Vibe the revolution and shit! And Quackity’s gonna fuckin’ eat you!”
“See you later, Tommy,” Technoblade said. “Have fun.” The other door closed again.
Tommy was still staring up at the floor above, fists balled at his sides. He took a deep breath, taking stock of the situation. His stomach still felt bad, but he had turned out fine. And he still had the ender pearls, cool and smooth in his inventory. And Technoblade hadn’t noticed the stain of blue Ghostbur had left on the floor, so that was covered up successfully. He wasn’t sure if he’d have been in trouble for having a person over, but he didn’t want to find out. He especially didn’t want to let Technoblade know about Ghostbur. That felt personal for reasons he wasn’t interested in mentally pursuing. Tommy ran a hand over his face. He was still tired. He was tired and alone in the house.
Which was fine. Which was good, actually. Tomathy Danger Kracken Innit, Biggest Man, lover of women and winner of wars, survivor of really unreasonable challenges that kept happening to him for some reason, successful spy, was perfectly fine to be alone. He preferred that, actually. Without people around him, no one was telling him what to do, or taking his stuff, or stopping him from taking their stuff, which honestly he deserved to take, or dying in a hole in the ground, or talking to him and making noise. He could make all of the noise he needed to make himself, he was perfectly capable of that.
“It’s gonna be a great fuckin’ day for big man Tommyinnit, and if anyone has a problem with me I’m gonna fuckin’ kill them and take all their stuff, and everything’s going to go great,” he said again, experimentally, into Technoblade’s basement. The villagers hrmed on the other side of the wall.
It still didn’t sound that convincing.
Well who cared. He was going on anyways. Tommy climbed the ladder to the main floor, in search of more of Techno’s valuables, and maybe some gapples. Maybe that would help his headache.