TWs: Mention of blood/eye mutilation, intoxicated Tom again, overworking Tord again, feelings of anxiety. Stay safe :)
By the time Larry was finished explaining, the group was frozen to the core, eyes wide as they stared.
"What the fuck...?" Tord swore under his breath.
"Oh, my Aphrodite..." Matt muttered.
"Larry..." Arthur whispered, "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want you to get involved in my business." He spoke, "After all, you were already after the Red General."
"I still could've helped you." Arthur insisted.
"You were bleeding from your eyes, Arthur. It would've taken a miracle for you to recover within a week."
Arthur grimaced, knowing his friend was right. It took months for him to recover from becoming permanently blind.
"So, what? You just let him poke your eye out and keep it?" Tord quirked an eyebrow.
"Well, when you put it like that..." Larry winced.
"I don't get why an army is this powerful." The Norsk crossed his arms, "It didn't show up in reports until I was about nine or ten."
Matt looked at him, "Hey, same! I remember seeing it on the news!"
"We're supposed to believe that a group of nihilists like this is as powerful as any other army?" Tord frowned, "It's been around for... 23 years."
"I see your point." Larry nodded, "It's true that most militaries are formed in the 1800s or early 1900s, and they've been around for a while, but there are some around the world that have been created to be more of an impact."
"What does that mean?" Matt questioned.
"Take the Black Army, for example. They're based around nihilism and about revolutionizing in a 'New World' no matter who stands in their way." He explained, "They want to destroy this world and create a new one, hoping it'll be more peaceful."
"What kind of logic is that?" Tord criticized, "Talk about being a bunch of hypocrites."
"Oh, trust me, I know." Rolling his eyes, Larry went to flip the switch in his closet, "Anyway, I hope you have something to go off on. With 67 million people in the UK, it's practically impossible to narrow it down."
"Don't you know where the base is?" Matt inquired.
Larry's eye wandered, averting the ginger's gaze, "I would if only they didn't move their base around."
"What? Isn't that a bit much?" Tord eyed the Brit.
"Very." He nodded, "But... I know they favor the North Coast- closer to Norway, sometimes Ireland."
Tord nodded, planning to check out those places later.
The group heard the door to the apartment open, then slammed shut, along with a frustrated groan.
"He sounds pissed," Arthur noted.
"Let's hope it's not that bad," Matt spoke.
Larry stepped out of his room, going to the source of the complaining. There he saw Bing lying on the couch, an arm draped over his face dramatically. The sandy blonde rolled his eyes at the display. Judging by the scrapes on his hands, arms, and face; and the oil stains marking his clothes, Larry could only assume it was another silly 'invention' of his.
"Quit your whining, you baby." He crossed his arms as he peered at him.
Bing perked up at his assistant's voice, "Larry...?"
"Who else?"
Instead of responding, Bing hopped up and tackled his friend in a hug, "Larry!"
Larry huffed, wiggling around in the brunette's grasp, then chose to relax and let it happen.
"I missed you so much."
Despite the annoyed look on the shorter's face, he sighed, "Missed you too, idiot."
"I think it's about time I go." Tom slurred, vision clouding as he looked at the time, "Has it been two and a half hours yet?"
"It's been more than that," Todd told him as he wiped down a spill on the counter.
"What?" The bassist's eyes widened as he got up, nearly toppling a few stools over, "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Didn't know you had a curfew now." Todd shrugged.
Tom groaned, "Matt's gonna be pissed."
Heading for the door, he accidentally ran into someone. Stumbling backward, Tom caught himself on a nearby table.
"Sorry bout that." The person spoke.
Looking through a hazy gaze, Tom saw they had medium-length blonde hair, Caribbean green eyes, and facial hair.
"Hey, aren't you... Diwi?" Tom spoke, getting his footing again, "We used to go to school together."
"Oh yeah... Tom, right?" He spoke, pulling his sleeve over his hand as his eyes wandered, "Been a long time."
Tom hummed, "Well, I have to go, but it was nice to see you, dude."
"You too!" Diwi smiled as he watched Tom leave the bar.
Pau and Pat stared at the Norsk hovering over the table again, peering at a map of England. It was getting late, and Pat was exhausted and antsy watching Tord.
"We should get Edd." He stated to Pau. His partner had his arms crossed, gazing at Tord with mixed emotions.
"Let me handle this," Pau spoke, stepping up beside Tord, "Kid."
Tord perked up, glancing at Pau before focusing back on the map, "What is it, Pau?"
"When are you going to bed?" The ruffled brunette asked.
The Norsk hummed, "Dunno."
"Will you go to bed in five minutes?"
"Hm... but this will take a few hours to complete."
Pau huffed, "Whatever you're doing can wait, Tord."
Tord said nothing as he marked another circle on the map.
"Føniks."
Tord dropped his sharpie, glancing at Pau fully, "Yes...?"
"Stop overworking yourself, and sleep." Pau scolded him softly.
A silver eye peered into a crimson eye. The color reminded Tord of his father, but it was different. It wasn't as callous or bloodlust as his father's. Pau was detached when it came to his emotions, and it showed in his eyes that he had seen a lot.
"Fine." Tord grieved as he slumped against Pau, "You win."
Pau rolled his eye before gesturing to his partner. The taller pulled them into a hug, Tord complaining half-heartedly.
Tord went with it, a small smile present on his face as he hugged his dads.
Edd looked out the kitchen window, eyeing the city lights. He blinked, then went to get his midnight cola from the fridge.
Then went back to peering out the window.
He had a feeling something was off. He didn't know what, but there was something off. He couldn't place his finger on it.
Maybe he should tell Tord.
'No.' He shook his head quickly, 'Tord will just overwork himself to death trying to find the issue.'
Edd sighed, gazing at the city landscape as he drank his cola. A few moments went by, and nothing changed.
'Ah, I'm just worrying for nothing.' He told himself, 'I'm sure nothing will happen.'
Throwing his empty cola can in the trash, the brunette headed to bed, trying to convince himself that everything was fine.
Because everything was fine.
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Norwegian =
Føniks - Phoenix
(Translations brought to you by Google Translate)