TWs: Stubborn Tord not wanting help, and playful arguing.
Tord walked down the hall with a large sheet of grid paper rolled up in his hand. He was planning on using it for the escape plan, going to plan out everything, beginning to end, and nothing was going to get in his way.
"Red Leader!" A voice yelled behind him.
Except that.
Recognizing the voice, Tord turned towards the kid with the white cap, "Hello, Clay."
After finding the kid in an amusement park during a zombie apocalypse, Tord decided to take him to the base. He apparently didn't remember his name, so Tord gave him one.
Clay, an English name meaning "clay worker" and "mortal." There was also another meaning of the name which Tord was quite fond of, and that is "someone subjected to death at any moment."
And the boy was British, which was a plus.
The 12-year-old grinned, "When they said you were back, I didn't think it was true! You were gone for like ever that I thought you up and died!"
The boy put his arms above his head for dramatic effect as he stared at Tord.
"But you didn't!" Clay moved forward and hugged Tord. It was awkward since Tord was still holding the grid paper, but he eventually sighed and put it down, opting to embrace Clay instead.
In a way, Clay reminded Tord of himself when he was younger. Clay was alone for most of his life and wound up somewhere he didn't belong. Tord was also alone for most of his childhood, yet he's still somewhere he feels he doesn't belong.
"We should go to the shooting range! They put up some new targets that are harder to hit." Clay said as soon as he pulled away.
Tord glanced away, "Uh... maybe later, lillebror."
"Aw... I understand. You're just too busy to hang out with me. I see how it is." Clay pouted before crossing his arms and turning away a bit, trying to use his puppy dog eyes on Tord.
'Liten dritt...' Tord's eye twitched, "Maybe later, Clay. I'm swamped at the moment."
Clay huffed, "Fine... I'll just bother You and Yan."
The kid walked away, leaving Tord alone in the dark hallway once more. Tord sighed as he grabbed the grid paper in his left hand and carefully walked to his room.
Tord's pencil trembled in his hand as he tried to sketch out his plan.
'Jammen... why couldn't I be born ambidextrous?' Tord bit his lip as he struggled to write simple words.
Pat and Pau watched Tord from where they stood by the door. Pau found it slightly amusing, while Pat was more mature about it.
"Should we help him?" Pat muttered to his partner.
"Nah, I find this amusing." Pau gave a small smile.
Pat glared at him, "Be mature, Pau."
Instead of scolding him more, Pat walked up to Tord, peering over his shoulder. He was drawing blueprints for something. Pat had no idea what it was.
"Do you need help, Tord?" Pat eventually asked when Tord scratched something out with the pencil.
"Nei, I got this." Tord hissed through his teeth, "I only have to add the exponents, durability, and material. Although, maybe I should also add-"
"Tord..."
"Another gas tank. As well as-"
"Tord."
"If this plan were to go south, there would have to be backup plans. I can't have any plan fail on me, not after the inci-"
"Tord!" Pat yelled.
The pencil Tord once held fell on the desk as he tensed up. His silver eye slowly looked at Pat.
"...Yes, Pat?" Tord uttered.
Pat sighed, "I know how much you wanna get outta here, Red, and I know you want what's best for us... but if you're gonna continue like this,"
He gestured to Tord's face.
"Sleep-deprived paranoid mess, then you need to get as much rest as possible."
The young soldier looked down at his workbench. He finally seemed to register the messy handwriting and obscure drawing.
Tord slowly sat up, muttering under his breath, "You're right..."
"Pau and I got it from here-"
"Actually, I have to take care of something quickly." Pau cut him off before hastily leaving the room.
"O-kay?" Pat wavered, "I guess I'll do it myself."
"And I'll lie down..." Once Tord was within reach of his bed, he toppled onto it, "Oof."
"What even is this...?" Pat questioned as he looked at the obscure drawing.
"Upgrades for the plane," Tord commented, "If we're gonna get out of here quickly, we need the plane to be upgraded."
"Yeah, talk about run-of-the-mill technology." Pat sat down at the workbench as he started rewriting things.
"Uh, excuse you, I built most of that thing myself when I was a teenager," Tord grumbled.
"It's a miracle how we keep crashing then."
"We keep crashing because you're blind as fuck! If you hadn't canceled that eye doctor appointment, maybe we would be better at our jobs." Tord sat up in his bed, glaring at Pat.
"Oh, now you're blaming me for crashing your plane because I'm blind?"
"Yes! That's exactly what I'm doing!"
Tord loved it when these types of arguments happened. They were never serious and only happened between him, Pat, and Pau. To them, it was a bonding experience. A stupid bonding experience.
That's why they named it 'idiotiske argumenter'.
"Probably one of our stupidest arguments yet." Pat voiced.
"Yep." Tord nodded as he lay face-down on his stomach.
"Wonder where Pau went," Pat mumbled to himself.
"Why? Miss him already?"
"No." Pat's answer was quick.
'Uh-huh...' Tord yawned as he shifted a bit more to get comfortable.
He felt a heavy and warm weight engulf his body; his weighted blanket. It was a gift from Yan, who simply explained, 'in case you need it... or whatever'.
"Took you long enough to get here," Pat grumbled.
"Well sorry, I had to do something important." Pau glared.
"Which was?" Pat tapped the pencil against the workbench, keeping his gaze on the blueprints.
"None of your business," Pau remarked.
"Ouch. Someone's angry." Pat quipped.
Tord ignored their bickering as he was used to it.
Instead, he focused on the warm weight around him and a familiar face guiding him to sleep.
"Våkn opp, min lille ildflue..." A sweet whisper is all it took for Tord to open his eyes.
The 9-year-old groaned as he pulled the covers over his head again, "It's too early, mamma...!"
"It's only 0900 hours, Tord." His mamma sighed.
"Exactly," Tord whined.
Snefrid rolled her eyes at her child's behavior until she got an idea. Smirking, she walked over to the door, putting her hand over it.
"And here I thought you would want an early birthday present," Snefrid shook her head, "Oh well-"
When Tord heard that, he jumped out of bed, grabbing his mother's hand, "Nei, nei, nei!"
"Oh? So you do want your birthday present?"
"Ja, ja, ja!" Tord grinned.
"Then hurry up and get dressed, I promised someone shooting lessons in a bit." She looked at her watch.
"Greit!"
There was a shift and 9-year-old Tord and his mother were outside the Red Army baselines. Leaves were starting to change colors and fall off the trees. The air smelled petrichor, due to it raining the night before. The air was full of mist, and the ground was damp with moisture.
Tord had an aching feeling to jump in puddles, but he knew he had to listen to his mamma.
"Okay, ildflue, do you want your present now?" His mother asked.
"Ja!" Tord clapped excitedly.
His mother knelt, slowly taking a silver box out of her coat pocket. He saw it was made out of metal.
"Open your hands." She instructed.
Tord opened his hands, palms facing up as his mother put the box in his hands.
It was light metal, Tord frowned as he looked at his mamma.
"Open it." She smiled.
Tord flipped the hatch, which was quieter than he anticipated considering it was also made out of metal. He opened it and saw...
"What is this...?" Tord questioned.
"Pick one up and it should form in your hand." She explained.
The child nodded and picked up the first one. He nearly dropped it as it made a clicking sound and changed its shape into something much more confusing for him.
"It's a tiny staff with a donut end and an end that looks like a half-circle?"
Snefrid laughed, "No, this is called a wrench. It's used to build things."
"Are these all building thingies?" Tord asked.
"Yep, this is a toolbox I invented."
"In... invented?" Tord pondered.
"I wanted to be an inventor before I married your father. Turns out I couldn't do both of them..."
Tord tilted his head, "I don't get it..."
Snefrid's eyes grew soft as she set them on her child, "I know."
She stood up and reached for Tord's hand. Tord put back the wrench, which morphed back into its original position. His eyes widened as he smiled.
"Come on, Pau is supposed to watch over you for the afternoon." She said as Tord grabbed her hand and hugged the box close to his chest.
"Okay, mamma!"
That was the last present his mamma ever gave him.
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧Translations✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
Norweigian =
Lillebror - Little bro
Liten dritt - Little shit
Jammen - Damn it
Nei - No
Idiotiske argumenter - Idiotic arguments
Våkn opp, min lille ildflue - Wake up, my little firefly
Mamma - Mama/Mom/Mum
Ja - Yes
Greit - Okay
(Translations brought to you by Google Translate)
Snefrid - A Norwegian name meaning 'one who loves snow'