Chapter Text
Tommy had always avoided fire like the plague. He always ate food that didn’t need to be cooked or he asked others for cooked food. He traveled in or through the nether extremely rarely. He didn’t go near campfires or any fire enchantments. It wasn’t because he was scared of fire, really. Quite the opposite.
He’d learnt at a young age that it wasn’t normal to be able to touch fire, or eat fire, or hear fire talking to you. By the time he’d landed in Hypixel’s “foster” system (where he was forced to fight to survive), he’d learnt to hold his tongue. Don’t speak unless spoken to, and don’t mention anything about fire; especially that it talks to you. You don’t want to end up like the others; you don’t want to end up dead.
He slowly grew out of the rotten “foster” system he was in. Instead of continuing to fight constantly for a home he never really grew attached to, he decided to travel the universe. See where his legs could take him. He’d expand his knowledge through experience and travel.
He met many people during his travels, even eventually finding a family to return home to. Although not conventional, it was somewhere he was told he could live. A large home owned by a magpie hybrid, much too big for him on his own, but travelers are constantly coming and going. He grew to love this place, and he truly did call it home.
Tommy had met a famous fighter, a legend that aged out of the same system he abandoned. He was surprised to find that he was part wooly mammoth; quite a rare breed. How old was this man? To be so heavily influenced by the mammoth appearance, he must be only a few generations down in his bloodline; wooly mammoths had died out hundreds of years ago and the hybrids he knew of which carried their blood were very distantly related. No matter. Even considering how old the man likely was, he knew how to fight, and fight well.
Tommy met a young Christmas Beetle hybrid, just barely a year older than him, who begins to travel with him. He likes to talk to himself, in clicks and chitter-like sounds. Tommy can’t understand a word of it, but he can feel the hum of nature from the boy, so he doesn’t shrug the other off. Eventually, Tommy learns to understand the clicks and chitters, as the other learns to understand his spoken word. Eventually, they both speak in a language of their own; clicks and chitters and english mixed together, as well as grunts and huffs and hums.
Tommy had met a man who smelt of the sea with an aura of sadness that surrounded him. He had sung of feelings Tommy had never felt with all of his heart. His eyes held a power, a lust for ruin and a hope for something more. His skin was always somewhat damp, and sung with the power of the ocean; not that anyone mentioned such a taboo thing. He took Tommy and his beetle travel partner to the home he lived in with the fighter and the magpie, and they all grew closer. Tommy felt that they were truly a family.
Eventually, though, like most good things, it came to an end.
The magpie took flight, the fighter went to war, and the three born of elements were left to rot.
They refused to rot.