TommyInnit Oneshots January 2024

Hunter Tommy

Dream had always been a man of respect, a man of honour, a man of status. If Dream said sit, you sat, if he said hunt, you hunted. As the head of the Masked Order, he guided thousands of young hunters to be the best they could, whether they were wealthy Academy-goers or on an apprenticeship, there was a role for you under Dream, so long as you complied.

Tommy, ever loyal, was of course willing to follow Dream wherever the man went, travelling with his group from infancy. He'd been raised by the man, yet the feeling of honour being merely in Dream's presence never quite faded. And Tommy knew why.

Taking down animals as Dream did was an impossibility, for he could thrust his axe into the necks of ten of the creatures only five seconds into combat. Dream, Tommy knew, would go down in history as one of the greats, one of the people that would be known a thousand years down the line. And so, Tommy knew his own greatness could be secured under Dream – if he tried hard enough.

Now, Tommy idolised Dream, of course, so when he was given a solo mission – his fist solo mission, Tommy was more than eager to accept it. Kill a hybrid? Tommy had held down such creatures many a time for others in his group, he'd seen hundreds of primeless abominations be rid from the world, so he was unconcerned about the practical elements. And, as a teenager would, he didn't think about the practical elements (how to actually kill the hybrids) until he'd been dropped outside of a forest he'd been informed had several hybrid dens.

Peering into the ever-moving, ever-watching dark forest, Tommy couldn't help but imagine the huge area was a ginormous millipede hybrid, twisting and curling in a gross celebration of limbs. Gagging, he peered again at the small village behind him, which looked rather more pleasant to live in.

"'You alright, laddie?" A grey-haired, twisted-faced, stick-aided woman asked, though Tommy was unsure whether or not it was a silent pleading to leave and enter the woods or perhaps a genuine question.

"Yeah...?" He answered hesitantly, as if she'd suddenly exit her own skin like a caterpillar from a cocoon and reveal to him a tail or animal ears.
Not waiting for a response, Tommy took a large step into the forest and blocked out the elderly woman's warnings.

The path in time had turned from a pleasant, easy to follow mix of rock and dirt, wide enough to perhaps fit a whole carriage though. The darting, curling, confusing, thin dirt path he navigated though then was most the opposite. More like animal tracks than a path, a thin, dirt ridge and a gap between the trees was the only marker that it was supposed to be followed at all.

"I'm extremely safe, I'm completely fine!" Tommy sang, though he silenced himself a thought later upon the realisation that it could scare the hybrids. Of course, while they couldn't understand human speech, the primitive creatures could register it as something superior to them, thus making them run. And you didn't win a race against an animal.

Brandishing a clean silver knife which he had been gifted for this task alone, Tommy scarcely felt safe. The crickets chirped, the wind rushed through the trees like footsteps and the leaves themselves blocked out the cloudy sun, leaving him all alone in the dark.

The knife was his only friend. He'd been forbidden his voice, his companions and the sun, so he was eager to find a nest as quickly as possible, if only to get out. Dream hadn't even specified which hybrid: an inchling would do for the man.

Wait...

A realisation struck Tommy with the weight of an elephant hybrid. He was being sent alone for the first time on a vague mission which required hunter training. At 14, too, which was young, but... When Tommy returned home, he wondered seriously if he'd receive his mask.

Tommy let himself think for a moment about what kind of mask he'd go for. In the same style as Dream's, he thought, perhaps until Dream retired, to pay homage to his mentor and idol. Of course, not exactly the same as Dream's, but a round mask with a facial expression on it, definitely. Maybe with a red base and black, menacing, glaring eyes. So, like the pissed-off, colourful version of Dream.