He looked over his shoulder, seeing how far back they were as he ran with a loaf of bread and four alums cradled in his arms. He narrowed his lens and sprinted a little faster, abruptly turning into an alley and vaulting over the fence at the back of it. He tore off a chunk of the bread as he rounded the corner, and quickly turned another to throw them off. He hid behind a crate, just in time to watch about half of the group who had just been tailing him rush by. He breathed a sigh of relief and climbed over the crates to a small area at the back, hidden by the boxes and right up against a stone wall.
Days earlier, he had found this nook after having to move away from his old one, kicked out by the same gang who just tried to take the food and money he worked so hard for. He had taken about a week to make himself a little crate castle out of what was there, making a roofed area to sleep under, an unassuming wall blocking off anyone's view of him, a little peephole that he could use his slingshot from, and a place to hide in case of situations like the one he had just been in. He had spent the little money he had gotten from taking shifts at the blacksmith's and the baker's to buy a sleeping bag and a small pad, and used a piece of cloth and a forked stick to make himself a slingshot to defend himself, if necessary. Although it wouldn't do much, it made him feel safer, and every now and then he could shoot down a small bird with it and spend a night in the forest around the city cooking it on a campfire.
Cory took the money out of the bag of bread and dropped it into the small cloth bag he had hidden under one of the smaller crates. He ripped off a chunk and stared at the crates in front of him, a little tired, but mostly bored. Stupid crate wall, colorless, boring, he thought to himself, once again taking out his frustration at the world on the crate fortress he built for himself. I never see anything different. Guess I never will, will I? His thoughts turned a bit bitter, but he took out his slingshot and climbed over the wall. Might as well do something, rather than just sitting here.
He put another rock into the sling and shot it at the tree, hitting it a bit off the center mark of the target he drew on using colorful berries from around the area. He bit his lip, picked up another rock, and started to aim. A little sound from a tree behind him startled him, and he let the rock go on accident. It flew way off target, but he didn't care, and spun around to look at the noisemaker.
A blue and gold bird twittered on a tree branch behind him, practically glowing in the sunlight. Cory's annoyed grimace turned into a small grin as he pulled out another rock and pulled it back, locking his vision onto the oblivious bird.
Suddenly, the bushes next to him shook. The bird stopped singing and looked down, hopping on its branch a little. Cory froze and narrowed his lens, but kept the slingshot up. It seemed as if the bird wasn't too worried, as it settled down and began to sing again. Cory pulled back his sling and shot-
"I HEAR BIIIIIRDS!" A yellow and brown blur jumped out of the bushes and landed on the branch the bird was resting on. The bird flew away in a panic, and the colorful-looking kid grinned, pumped his arms, and picked up one of the feathers the bird left behind. He then suddenly seemed to realize that Cory's stone had hit him.
"Oww! Right in the schvinkter!" The freak in the tree exclaimed.
"Dude, what the heck?" Cory called right back. "That could have been food for tonight! And what did you even want it for, one of its feathers? Cause that's all you got. I'm just saying."
"Same reason as you. You think getting food around here is easy?" The kid looked down, swinging his legs. His yellow face seemed to be permanently carved into a grin, and his eyes never seemed to focus on one place. His leather jacket had tons of pockets, and was super battered, yet somehow the white t-shirt underneath stayed completely clean.
"Pffft. Get a job. You'll survive." Cory said, a bit annoyed.
"Yeah, uh huh," The freak responded, swinging down from the tree and landing in a handstand, before digging down with only his hands. Cory stared in disbelief. The kid came back up in the bush he had come out of before, right side up, and popped his head out, staring at Cory. "You think anyone wants to hire a freak?"
"A freak? Dude, they say that to you?" Cory asked, starting to feel a bit of sympathy. "That is so unchill."
"I live with it." The kid stepped out from the bush and walked towards Cory. Cory flinched and put his hand on his slingshot. "Dude, you okay?"
"What do you mean?" Cory said, backing up a step. "I'm fine."
"Most people aren't that defensive," the kid's eyes showed concern, but the smile remained, painting a strange picture.
"I- I'm fine." Cory looked over his shoulder.
"What, someone messing with you?" Cory only looked to the side a bit, narrowing his lens. "Hey," The kid continued, "Let me help you out." He put his hand on Cory's shoulder, and Cory flinched a little, but relaxed. "Because I scared away that bird, I can... well, what do you want me to do?"
"You... don't seem like the kind of guy who can help, sorry," Cory said to him, and quickly changed the subject. "So where do you live?"
"The woods," the kid shrugged.
"What?" Cory almost laughed. "You live out here? Actually, I'm really surprised."
"I... manage," he said, looking past Cory and off into the distance. "There's a decent amount of food, I usually don't get rained on-"
"Dude, come with me," Cory said, pulling the kid by the arm. "Maybe you can at least stay in my place when it's raining."
"And here we are!" Cory gestured towards his crate fortress at the back of the alley.
"Wow, not bad..." the kid said, looking at the boxes. "Kind of bland, though."
"Well, I'm sorry," Cory got defensive. "But I don't have the time, or the supplies for interior decorating."
"Vright, vright..." the kid murmured to himself, digging around in his pockets. Cory looked on, confused, as the kid pulled out tons of random junk, including a rubber band, a square piece of metal that seemed to be some kind of instrument, a little statue made out of tree sap, little leaves, some feathers, and sawdust, a- was that a finger?- Cory shook his head, snapped a picture, and zoomed in on it. Yep, definitely a finger...
"This should work," the kid said, tapping Cory on the shoulder. Cory quickly exited the picture so he could see what was going on. The kid held around four or five berries from the forest in his hand. Cory narrowed his lens.
"How is that gonna help?" He said, looking at him in disbelief.
"Just watch," The kid replied, and flung the berries at the crates.
The berries exploded onto the crates, making a red and purple camoflage-looking splatter across the entire thing. Cory's jaw dropped.
"Don't touch it, it's still wet," The kid said, his grin looking more like a smirk.
"Shut up..." Cory said, walking over and looking at the perfectly placed splatters across the crates. The color even managed to get on the ceiling above the bed and behind the crate wall, which logically shouldn't have been possible. He headed outside of the alleyway to look at it from there and- the new paint made the crates almost part of the shadows. Cory couldn't even see what was going on.
"This is perfect! Thanks, du..." Cory trailed off, seeing the kid had just rearranged the roofed area he had built to make it even roomier, with a higher ceiling, more space on the ground, and little holes dug out of the crates to make little hidey holes. In one of them, Cory found the money he had stashed, and in another, the tip of the bread loaf poked out. The kid was by the crate wall, building another smaller crate building. Cory looked on as he put the last crate in place and pulled an impossible amount of moss out of one of his pockets and laid it across the ground. He looked up and saw Cory staring.
"Hey, you don't mind if I stay here, right?" he asked. "I kind of already set up camp, so..."
"Yeah, no problem," Cory murmured absentmindedly. "Hey, why don't you work in construction? I mean, if you can do this in, like, a minute, then..." he trailed off.
"I tried," the kid replied, shrugging, no sign of remorse in his tone. "They fired me after three days. Don't know why, they didn't tell me. Never been able to keep a job for long."
"Huh," Cory said. He leaned into his newly made crate-tent structure, pulled out the bread, and broke off a big piece. He offered it to the boy, and sat down on the moss he had laid out, bouncing on it a bit. "This is actually pretty comfy..." He murmured to himself.
The boy bit off a piece of the bread and seemed to relax immediately, before stuffing the rest of the chunk in his mouth, not even chewing for more than a second before swallowing. Cory tried to ignore this as he turned to him again.
"Hey, since I guess you'll be staying here for a while, what's your name?" He asked, looking at the kid.
"My name... I... don't really know," he replied, shrugging.
"Seriously dude? How can you not know your own name?" Cory asked in disbelief.
"Everyone just gives me their own names for me," the kid replied. "My last job- what, a year ago?- tried to get a respectable job, ended up with an ex-wife."
"A... what?"
"I was some lady's servant. Wanted me to call her 'wife'. I worked for her for a few days- she payed four stells a day!- but I quit after that." He shuddered. "All I needed was a bit of money. I got enough to survive, and I got the hell out of there."
"That- ugh. Disgusting," Cory said, wincing a bit. "But hey, you got some money out of it, right?"
"Some money and a running joke," the kid smirked. "Still working on the ex-wife material, but I'm sure I'll get it down."
"Yeah, sure," Cory responded, surprised the kid could make a joke out of that. "So, what were you saying?"
"Oh yeah. She called me Thomas. So I guess you can call me that," the kid shrugged.
"Thomas? No way," Cory scoffed. "That name is so stuffy."
"Oh thank god." the kid slumped backwards onto the moss bedding behind him. "That name is truly awful." He snickered a bit. "I can hardly imagine having that happen again." He turned his voice high and whiney. "Oh, Thomas, dear, would you go fetch me a snack from the kitchen? Oh, Thomas, fluff up my pillow and my quilt for me. If you want, you can come and lay down with me~" He shook his head. "That was a truly awful experience."
Meanwhile, Cory appeared to stare contemplatively out at his area across from where he was sitting. Really, he was going through his footage of the pictures he'd taken in the last hour: the weird digging, the endless pockets, the strange trinkets, the impossible stunts. It all seemed like a trick, but he figured it must be real. Suddenly, something clicked.
"Tommy." Cory said, glancing back over at the kid.
"Huh?" He responded, confused.
"What do you think of the name Tommy?"
"Tommy..." The kid repeated it to himself several times. "Vright... I like it." He decided.
"Well, Tommy," Cory said, "Nice to meet you. I'm Cory."
AN: Aaaaaand the start of an awesome friendship! I'm gonna give these two maybe two or three more subchapters- one for Tommy, one for Cory and Tommy. I found it fitting that Cory would give Tommy his name- I remember in one video them saying something about how his real name is actually John but he's nicknamed Tommy, so maybe Tommy's birth name is John, but after he was- I'm gonna say what happened to get him on the streets in his subchapter. Anyways, he gave up that name out of spite and sadness, and eventually completely forgot about it.
I tried to outline some of Tommy's logic-defying freak-magic, which I find awesome. Maybe the whole digging from a handstand thing is a bit too far, but I wanted to use real examples (THQ where he would dig a hole and end up coming up on a roof behind them).
Anyways, tell me what you think! I am getting more and more into this story as I develop the lore, I'm so excited...
See you guys around!
-Helena!! %)