Voices [ Discontinued unless Further notice ]

Chapter 8

Happy pride month everyone!

Third person pov
Tommy sighed. This whole, 'I'm going to do a crime' thing was hopeless. No matter how much he wanted to, he just couldn't figure out where and how.

That fact were being a pain in the but. At least he had something to do in the meanwhile. Get materials.

Gunpowder and sand. That was what he needed the most. And some netherite of course. His current iron would not last in that fight.

But in order to get netherite armour you need diamonds. Which are in, well, the mines. And creepers are in the mines.

He'd collect the sand after. It would be a good way to not be caught, he'd be out of sight. In the mines.

It was just like in exile. Being in the mines about everyday, trying to get stuff. To be quite honest, he thought, even if he stayed with Tubbo and didn't get exiled. He would've of still went to the mines 24/7, so no difference there he guessed.

He picked up multiple iron pickaxes, his armour and some torches. He already had some bread in his pocket: he had been hungry earlier.

He headed towards the mines. Totally wanted to spend like a week in the mines hopeing to find diamonds and creepers!

He sighed yet again, this was going to be quite a long day.

He still wanted to do that prank-crime thing.

Tubbo pov

In this, the people at L'manburg already hosted a funeral and are depressed thinking it was their fault 'Tommy' died. Yay. Also Tubbo is dealing with paperwork.

Paperwork. Paperwork. Paperwork. It's all the same. I finish some paperwork, a heap of it. Though the next day, another heap is bound to come.

I never thought that a president, of a country as small as this, would have so much homework. Theres not even that many people.

Tubbo sighed. Being a president was hard as hell. No wonder Wilbur went insane so quickly.

Just this heap of paperwork was making Tubbo slightly insane. To be quite honest, he wasn't surprised at this.

He started to feel more anxious and insane since 'he' died. Mainly because he thought it was all his fault.

For he was the one who had sent his best friend, the 'deceased' person, to the exile in which he killed 'himself'.

So uh, not good on that part.

He sighed, he had been doing that quite a lot recently. A lot more problems had occurred which was not good. Like always.

He wondered how Wilbur managed to last that long without going, well, insane. It was quite a reasonable question.

He wanted to know the answer, as it might be how long Tubbo could go for with out going mad.

Though, now once again mentioned, he felt like he was already going slightly insane since Tommy died which was now more then two weeks ago.

Wait, it has seriously been that long. Already? He thought to himself. Though he was right, in what felt like days was actually weeks.

He obviously hadn't noticed since he had been drowning in paperwork. Literally.

It was littered around the room, some on his desk. Many on his floor, and some other pieces of it scattered under things like cabinets.

He had no idea what to do with the remaining years of his life.

Author's Rambling
Happy pride month everyone! It has finally come. I'm planning to make this shorter as I want to get this out by half seven am, though I think I might accidentally make this longer. Yes, am. I do normally post on pms, but I was bored and forgot to write chapter 8 so why not do it now. When I still have a tiny bit of motivation left.

Also, I need to thank you guys for around 300 views! Seriously, I never thought that this would get even 10. So around 300? About that number the time you are reading this is just, wow. Thank you everyone for it!

Have a good day or night, hopefully both. Drink water daily and get some sleep. Thank you guys for everything!

Word count: 698