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Mooning About

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Tommy watched as Dream disappeared through the nether portal, lit TnT breaking it behind him. Tommy had nothing left.

Logstedshire? Gone.
Tent? Gone.
Secret Stash? Gone as well.
All of his possessions? Dropped in a hole, and blown up by Dream. (he hadn't dropped his Tubbo compass, but Dream didn't need to know that.)

Dream himself? Not visiting again for a few days, when Tommy should have learned his lesson.

Well, that was where Dream was wrong. Tommy never learned his lesson. Really, Dream was an idiot leaving Tommy alone for this long, Tommy would miss his friend's company, but he could also run away.

Tommy needed friends, but if that idiot asshole was his only friend, then maybe he didn't need any. He was BIG MAN TOMMYINNIT! He was going to show everyone how well he could do all on his very own. He didn't need help, or friends, or Dream. (Especially Dream, the utter prick. The green boy could go shove his head up his own arse.)

So big man Tommyinnit ran, like the feral little raccoon boy he was.

He found someone's house in the middle of the frozen tundra. Whoever's house it was, they were stacked. Therefore, Tommy himself was now stacked. And there he was, decked out in full enchanted netherite, OP diamond sword in hand and idly munching on gapples when he realized he was screwed.

It didn't matter that Dream wasn't going to visit him for a few days - he wasn't free. As soon as those few days ran out and Dream realized he was gone, it would be hell on earth for mister Tommyinnit. It didn't matter how far he ran, Dream would still find him. Dream, his best friend and protector, was some sort of omnipotent god, he was the admin. He could find him instantly with a single command. Dream loved to remind him of his powers, of how little Tommy could never be free.

How had he forgotten? Tommy was an idiot. At this point, he saw that he really only had one option to avoid mortal peril: Run back to the ruins of Logstedshire, hide the shit he'd found, and pretend nothing had happened.

Tommy dashed around the cabin, borrowed a few more things and put on a nice warm sky-blue cloak, and rushed straight back out.

He ran for what felt like forever. As the biomes changed and he ran out of breath, he felt too warm and shoved his cloak into his inventory. He kept walking and walking.
And walking
and walking
and walking.

He walked into a cactus. There was sand underneath his feet. There was sand at Logstedshire, but there were no cacti. So this couldn't be Logstedshire. So he kept walking.
And walking
and walking.

He ate some gapples when he was hungry, sometimes just to pass the time. Day fell to night. He had OP armor and Sword, though, so mobs were barely annoying. Night turned to day. He found himself in a mesa biome, and then there was just ocean. He remembered that
exile was by an ocean, so he crossed this one by boat. He found a dark oak forest, then a jungle, then another forest.

Big Man Tommyinnit knew exactly where he was. Logstedshire was just a bit further umm… that way.

He played around with some borrowed slow falling potions. He ate a few more gapples. At some point, he ran out of both. He needed food.

His armor was uncomfortable to sleep in, so he took it off. One morning he forgot to put it back on. It was probably still sitting in a chest in the middle of nowhere for some lucky explorer to find.

His OP sword broke.

He had been lost for at least a few days, but Dream still hadn't come for him. He wasn't lost, he just felt like wandering for a few weeks.
and wandering
and wandering
and wandering.

He sold some villagers their own haybales for some meat and leather armor. He didn't take it off to sleep. He ate his mutton slowly, and only when he needed to. Just like back in exile.

At least Dream wasn't around anymore.

He missed Tubbo.

Wait! Maybe since Dream wasn't trying to exile him anymore, he could sneak back into L'manburg and see Tubbo. He pulled out his compass. It spun aimlessly.

Yeah. Tubbo hated him anyway. President Tubbo was the one who had exiled him, anyways. Tommy got rid of the broken compass.

He didn't want to think about that anymore. What was that? Didn't matter. He wasn't going to define it, because even that hurt. It didn't matter as long as he kept wandering about and stealing shit.

-'-.-'-

At some point, he grew raccoon ears and a bushy tail. He wasn't sure what that meant. Maybe he stole so much shit that he became the raccoon boy.

-'-.-'-

He found a cube-shaped house of diamond blocks in the middle of nowhere. There was nothing to steal and he couldn't mine the diamonds, so he wandered on.

-'-.-'-

He found four or five enormous bases all within a few miles of each other. He was able to carry a record amount of loot in the shulker boxes he borrowed from them. He was going to eat gapples for weeks!

He had never seen shulkers before on the SMP. Where even was he?

-'-.-'-

He used an elytra he had found to cross a broken landscape of cobblestone monstrosities. He hated the sound of fireworks, but whenever he tried to walk across he was nearly murdered in cold blood.

And Tommy had no intention of losing any more lives.

-'-.-'-

One day as Tommy was wandering into a village, he tripped over something and face-planted onto the dirt path. "What the fuck was that?" he cried as he looked to see what had tripped him. By his feet, he saw a small brown walnut shell, cracked in two by his foot.

"A walnut? Hah! That means I can eat you for what you've done to my face!" but as he goes to pull the edible part out of the walnut, he instead finds the most adorable thing he's ever seen.

"Oh! Well, I can't eat you. I'm gonna name you Clemintine."

He holds her gently in his cupped hands as he walks into the village and into a shop.

"What do you have there, kid?" asks the shopkeeper.

Tommy huffs. "I'm not a kid! And this is my daughter, Clementine."

The shopkeeper raises their eyebrows and peers into Tommy's outstretched hands.

"Kid, that's a worm."

"She's my daughter and I need somewhere to put her!" protests Tommy, overlooking being called a kid in favor of taking care of his daughter. (He's definitely not a kid though, he must've turned 18 somewhere along the line, he's been wandering for so long.)

The shopkeeper sighs and gives him a look. "I can put some dirt in a pot for you. Put some water and compost in it and your worm will be fine."

"SHE'S NOT A WORM YOU BASTARD!" Tommy makes a face. "I'll take the pot, though."

"Fine. That's two emeralds. Now leave." Tommy drops the money on the counter and grabs the small flower pot in one hand while holding Clemintine gently in the other. Buying food could wait until the next village. Now he had to make sure Clemintine was comfortable.

He walks to an empty area outside the village and gets to work. He drops the flower pot on the ground and cups Clemintine gently against his chest as he starts placing disorganized shulkers. He eventually finds some wool in one of them and uses a bit of it to line the bottom of the flower pot so it can be comfortable for his new daughter. He rests her in there as he starts picking back up his shulkers when he gets the best-est idea. He pulls out some random string from one shulker and loops it a few times around the flower pot so that both ends are attached and there's a loop he can put around his neck. Perfect.

He puts a few bits of bread in with her as he carries her around with him. He smiles.
She's so adorable.

-'-.-'-

Tommy has good gear, but he's no Technoblade when it comes to fighting. At some point, he gets mugged by a bunch of guys in iron armor and loses all his good gear and shulkers. Clementine’s safe, though. They didn't want his 'dead goldfish'. He wouldn't have given her up for anything, anyways.

His hair grows long, and matted beyond rescue by any comb. He tries cutting it off himself with some shears, but it looks terrible. He borrows a hairbrush and decides to try out daily self-care rather than have to attempt that ever again. And since in his mind he's calling this 'self-care’, he gets himself a bar of soap as well. After he uses it for the first time, he realizes Clemintine must have found him rather smelly.

As Clem grows larger, he modifies an old shirt into a sling for her. Tommy continues to wander.

-'-.-'-

He stops by a farmhouse to trade since village shops don't ever seem to have what he's looking for.

"Baby clothes. For your pet rabbit?" asks one of the couple who lives in the house.

"She's my daughter, and I can't let her be naked!" insists Tommy. "It wasn't a problem when she was smaller, but now she needs something to wear."

The farmer looks at their partner who points out, "I think we still have some somewhere from when the kids were little. It can't hurt to give him some." Tommy nods in agreement.

"Yeah, sure, why not," says the first, as they walk back into the house to look for it.

Tommy leaves with a small bundle of clothing. As he dressed Clemintine, he found a small bag of cookies had been included inside the bundle, as well as a shaving razor. He hadn't seen his reflection for quite a while, but as he felt along his chin and observed the gifted razor, he decided that he was now officially a man.

-'-.-'-

Tommy continued to wander from town to town, and Clem grew larger and harder to take care of. She would often try to crawl out of her sling, but she wasn't yet big enough to walk along with Tommy, so she'd cry until he picked her up again. And cry some more to be put down. Tommy eventually deemed it impossible to travel between towns at a reasonable pace.

So he bought himself some tools and some seeds, and build him and Clem a house not too far from a town. It was too big to be called a village (you didn't get weirdos like that in a village), but it wasn't threatening to become a country, so Tommy decided it was a fine place to stay at until Clemintine was a bit older, and could wander about with him.

-'-.-'-

"DAD! THERE'S A WEIRDO IN THE YARD!" shouted six-year-old Clem.

"HUH?" shouted Tommy straight back, as he peered out the front door. Sure enough, there was some dude maybe five years older than Tommy passed out in the yard. And since Tommy wasn't a complete asshole, he dragged him inside and dumped him onto the couch.

"What if he's a serial killer?" asks Clem, voice devoid of emotion.

"Well, then we'll kick him out."

"But I want to meet a serial killer."

Tommy considers this. "Maybe when you're older and can beat up serial killers. Not now, though." Clem pouts, stares Tommy straight in the eye, and then shrieks at him.

"No," replies Tommy, not the least bit disturbed.

However, this wakes their houseguest up, so father and daughter both stare straight at him.

"Are you a serial killer?" asks Clem.

-'-.-'-

The man's name is Jon, and he is not in fact a serial killer. However, he is an arsonist, so Tommy decides he likes him.

"Dad's not allowed to steal anymore, because then the town chases us out and we have to walk a long way and build a new house." contributes Clem.

"It's annoying," adds Tommy.

"Do you have a house?" Clem asks Jon.

"Well, I used to live at my ma's, but she kicked me out once I became a felon," says Jon.

"She what?" shouts Tommy, offering the guy a cup of coffee.

"Well, I left before she could finish kickin' me out, I didn't want her getting in trouble with the authorities for my sake."

After that encounter, Tommy actually thinks for the first time in his life. If Tubbo hadn't exiled him, maybe Dream would have punished him too. Tommy didn't like thinking about that, but he started to forgive Tubbo, just a little. He could've at least visited.

-'-.-'-

Some rich idiot used iron blocks for decoration on their house. Tommy's prying them off as Clem flutters up to where he is.

"Dad! DAD! Look what I found!" she waves a few slips of paper in the air. "They're tickets to something called the MCC."

"Huh. Didn't know they were still doing that."

"Can we go?"

"Do you know where it is?" he asks.

"Yup! And I'm taking us there because you'll just get us lost again."

"I never get lost!" her father squawks in protest.

"We're not going to talk about how your sense of direction is so shit that you wind up on a different server?" asks Clem.

"No, we are not."

-'-.-'-

And so, a week later the raccoon and moth hybrids are watching the world's most famous compete at minigames. Tommy bought some candy with borrowed money, and Clem is eating someone else's popcorn.

"Oo! Candy!" says someone behind Tommy, and a transparent hand reaches over and steals some of his chocolate.

"HEY!" complains Tommy. Clem throws a piece of popcorn at the thief. Tommy turns around to yell some more at whoever dares take his candy, but...

"Who are you?" asks Clem.

"Wilbur," says Wilbur. He's... not Ghostbur. He looks like he did before he ever came to the SMP, but older and transparent. He’s no longer deathly pale, just see-through.

"I'm Clemintine Innit!" proclaims Clem. Tommy stays frozen still. "That's Dad," she adds, pointing at him.

"Are you a... moth hybrid?" he asks.

"Yup! That means I'm 24 in moth years," she says, making absolute shit up.

Wilbur looks at Tommy. "She's 12," Tommy says. Wilbur nods. It... doesn't seem as if Wilbur has recognized him, so Tommy relaxes a bit.

"I'm also Mothman."

"Mothman isn't orange," counters Will.

"I'm orange," she stares the older man down, daring him to defy her.

He cuts his losses by changing the subject. "My brother's competing down there," he nods his head in the direction of the competing area. "He's a pig-hybrid, his name's Techno."

"Ooh! That guy?" she asks pointing.

"Yeah!"

"That means he's an old geezer, like you. I thought he was younger."

Wil's eye twitches. "Actually, I am younger than him." Tommy laughs. She's right, he's definitely not young anymore. While Tommy's still in the prime of his life!

"So why aren't you down there too?"

"I got banned for passing through walls," states Wilbur, sounding rather disappointed.

Tommy laughs at him. "May I ask why you're so transparent?" Anyone would ask that, he won't give himself away.

"Well, it’s a long story..." Tommy nods along. He knows Wilbur likes to tell stories.

"Many years ago I was on a server where the admin... wasn't quite right up there, y'know? A piece of shit, too. He thought everyone should only have three lives, so we would respawn twice, but not the third time. But that just not how things work, either you're dead or you're not. So this one guy, Schlatt, good friend of mine, when he died the third time he just respawned on a different server, and took that as a cue to get the hell out of there. We all thought he was dead, but he was out there having the time of his life.

"I died three times as well, but I ended up with amnesia and transparentness. The worst of it is gone now that I've left that goddamn server, but I still can't remember half the things that happened before or while I was a ghost."

"So now you can float about and shit?"

"Yeah! but at the cost of being unable to remember a few things." That sounds like two strokes of good luck - one for Wilbur and the other for Tommy.

He looks over at Clemintine to see what she thinks of all of this. He grateful he never told her anything about his family or the SMP, she would be giving him away right now if he had.

Clem has long since disappeared.

"FUCK!"

-'-.-'-

Clem wants to see how close she can get to the competitors. She could go meet famous people! She's already found the competitor's entrance and flown quietly over it. The ceilings are high enough here that she can fly around no problem, but so decorated that no one will ever notice an extra bright-orange moth.

She lands in an open area and starts peering into doors. She finds one with a piece of paper taped onto it reading: Friends and Family. There are lots of people inside, who must either be famous or know someone who is. Plus, there's a snack table. They are never getting her out of here.

It's mostly adults, which is boring, but she spots a boy in a grey sweatshirt around her age. She's pretty sure he's a zombie piglin.

Clem grabs a handful of cheese cubes and then trapps him in conversation.

"Hey! I am the great Clemintine Innit, and I'm twenty-four in moth years," she declares, staring him down until he responds.

"Uh.... 15. I'm 15."

"Well, nice to meet you 15!" she smiles.

"No no no, I'm uh, 15 years old. My name's Micheal."

"Aw! 15 would have been a cool name!"

"... Not really?"

"Ok, Micheal, watch this!" she runs across the room and takes some shmuck's wallet, and runs back to wave it in Micheal's face. He seems awe-struck.

"Oh my god, that's so cool." Clem beams with pride.

"Uh... wanna set up a fall trap under him?" suggests Micheal, and it's Clem's turn to be impressed.

"You can do that?" Micheal nods, smiling mischievously.

-'-.-'-

Phil had spent MCCs the past few years in the Friends and Family room since competeing had become too hard on his knees. (Will had made fun of him for that.) Plus, the room had a great view of the arena and Techno in it. Really, he should be watching Micheal while Tubbo and Ranboo were competing, but he figured the kid was old enough to take care of himself.

At least, that's what he thought until people started falling through the floor. So while he could have simply flown a bit to prevent himself from being dropped, he used the floor giving out underneath him as a chance to see what was causing it.

Sure enough, sat on a ledge near the top of the deep drop pit was Micheal. And while Phil knew he was fully capable of traps like this, you didn't have to expect them unless there was someone even more chaotic enabling him.

"OH MY GOD THIS IS THE POGGEST THING EVER!!!!!" cried a voice completely unlike that of his deceased son's, but strangely reminiscent of it.

Hovering about the four or five fall traps set up underneath the floor and periodicly flicking levers to set them off, was a young bright orange moth-hybrid. Unable to hover like an insect, Phil simply grabbed her by the back of her dress and dragged her through the air to dump her on the ledge where Micheal was sitting.

"Who. What? WHY?"

"I'm the Great Clemintine Innit and you're an old geezer!"

-'-.-'-

Tommy has spent the last hour dashing around the MCC looking for Clem. He hadn't wanted Wilbur to follow him, but now he's kinda glad of it since it meant he could get into the competitor's area no problem. Because knowing his daughter, that is exactly where she's gone.

They find her down a hallway, as well as a teenage zombie piglin, both being dragged out from under the floor. Being dragged out by, uh... Phil.

Philza Minecraft is no amnesiac Ghostbur, and he is almost certainly going to recognize Tommy. But he also needs his daughter back, so he soldiers on.

"Clem! Clem! Are you ok?" he knows she is, she's his daughter, but it never hurts to check.

"DAD! Micheal showed me how to make fall traps!" she cheers from her position on the floor.

"Did he?" asks Tommy with raised eyebrows. This could be useful, but it could also be more trouble. Today, it had definitely more trouble.

"So, you're her father?" asks Phil, and the tone of his voice tells Tommy that oh no he's been found out.

"Yeah..." Tommy grabs Clem by the back of her dress before she can run away again.

"She said he name was Clemintine Innit," continues Phil.

"Oh, yeah she did," muses Wilbur, then the lights seem to come on in his small empty attic brain. "Wait a minute..." he peers at Tommy.

"I'm Mothman!"

"Which would make you, what, Raccoon Innit, right Tommy?" smiles Phil, noting Tommy's hybrid features. Oh, yeah! Maybe they wouldn't recognize him because he had grown raccoon ears since they had last seen him.

So he nods a bit and says, "Yeah, I guess - wait FUCK!" And he takes Clem and runs, because Phil definitely knew who he was.

"WHat the fuck you're alive?!?" cries Wilbur

-'-.-'-

After MCC, Tubbo and his husband make their way to the Friends and Family room to pick up Micheal. Strangely, they find a medium group of people just hanging out outside the room. Hopefully, nothing has happened to their son.

The enderman and goat hybrids peer inside the room. The floor is full of holes and the concessions have gone everywhere. Phil and Wilbur are sitting on top of a raccoon man, and Tubbo's son has been tied to an overturned table, along with a young blonde moth girl.

"What in the world happened here?" wonders Ranboo.

"Fall traps," says Micheal.

"Sweet chaos!" says the moth.

"Tommy decided to come back from the dead," adds Phil. The raccoon underneath him struggles to get free. Wilbur doesn't let him.

"Tommy?!?!" screeches Tubbo, starting to tear up.

"I guess I'm back. BITCH!"