Tommyinnit Oneshots

I hate people. Clara is better.

Part two of I hate men. Women Are Better.

Summary: Clementine and Clara move into their new server. When their new neighbors drop by to say hello, how do things go when Tommy's look alike starts spouting facts only Tommy would know?

Clara was in charge of building. While Clementine wasn't terrible at architecture, it was Clara who was better suited for the toil of designing a new home. That wasn't to say Clementine didn't do anything. Since she was the more athletic one, Clara would send Clementine to gather materials and move around the heavier boxes. Clementine would grumble a complaint or two, but otherwise she did her job in sufficient timing. Clara would pat her head affectionately before asking Clementine to run just one more errand. Clementine would growl before heading off again. Clara would smile as she left, moving the resources delivered to where they were meant to go in the house.

With this system, the main house was done in three days. It was two stories, with extra big rooms to account for Clementine's claustrophobia. It was mostly made from wood and cobblestone. ("That's the pog block, Clara," Clementine swore dead seriously, crossing her heart with a finger.) When Clementine first saw it, she made an offhand comment about a cabin in the snowy woods. Clara didn't pry even though she knew that Clementine had never seen snow before.

"We should add a beacon on top of the house to protect us from Mobs. We need to improve our farm, as well. It's okay for a few days use, but now it'll be a permanent food source. After those are done, we can work on the underground tiers of this house. The flyer said this was a mostly hostile Server, right?" Clara chirped as she showed off the fully furnished home to her best friend.

Clementine tilted her head to the side before pulling the paper from her inventory, compressing the edges as she read it one more time. Clementine had seen it on a supply run for the temple at their old Server in Vale. The prospect of adventure had caught her attention, and the promise of a good time made her thoughts dwell on it. Clementine loved her home in Vale. The people may have been boring but they were sweet. The priests and prophetesses were uptight but nurturing. The buildings were unsettling but welcoming. Despite the good life she led, a voice called out to Clementine at the edges of her mind. An urge to find more in life, to test the waters, to discover her destiny, fed Clementine's rebellious spirit and adventurous heart. Clara knew all to well that nothing would stop Clementine, so they packed up and left the day after Clementine proposed the idea.

The paper spoke of the Dream SMP, a  Server with multiple countries and factions that held clashing ideologies and violent tendencies. Clementine did her research to discover the several wars that broke out in the countries. So many places and people were regaled in tales of honor and bloodshed, with hints of infamy and betrayal. Clementine couldn't wait to join the fray.

"Definitely fucking hostile. Not like shitty 2b2t anarchy, but there are certain people that hold strange mentalities. I have no fucking idea how they react to strangers," Clementine offered in response. Clara was able to reply when they heard a knock on the door. The two turned to each other. "We just fucking got the house done."

Clara shot Clementine a 'be good' face as she answered the door. The man wore a porcelain mask with a black smiley face painted across it in an only slightly asymmetrical way. The mask covered his face, but his green hoodie obscured his hair and body shape. His legs were clothed in dirty and ripped jeans so it was easy enough to say he worked outside to some capacity. Above him, five letters were typed out in white, a floating plate that told who a person was by immediately looking at them. Dream.

Clementine swallowed back vile. She didn't like this man. Naturally, she didn't have a feasible reason to dislike him. There was no genuine thought process that could explain the raw, overwhelming dread that filtered through her stomach like digested poison. What came second was the borderline panic that sent a swarm of adrenaline through her blood, mixing into her muscles to prepare for fight or flight. Whoever Dream was, it wasn't anyone good. Clementine knew that much.