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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.

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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-"

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