“Edd, you’ve had a lot of terrible ideas before, but this is definitely your worst.”
The aforementioned Edd immediately comes to his own defense-
“Well, hear me out, Tom-”
“No, Edd! This is stupid!”
“I disagree! My plans have always been brilliant, you just haven’t the intel to understand them!”
“Aargh, I cannot believe i was I friends with such an idiot !”
Tom starts to raise his fists, before a ginger- haired figure whispers to him in a foreign tongue, a tone of warning in his voice. You need to quiet down, he says, red leader might know you’ve snuck out. you, of all people, should know very well that he has spies everywhere.Tom sighs and hangs his head.
“I’m not going to help you, you know,” He sneers at Edd. “We are no longer in allegiance and I think you forget that.”
“No, I know.”
The ginger murmurs something in a somewhat expectant tone, pointing to his watch before Tom shushes him.
“I know, Matt, now be quiet.” He whispers. “I’m still ranting, if you haven’t noticed…!” He turns back to Edd, black eyes bleak, looking annoyed.
Tom sighs. “I’m going to leave, as you aren’t listening to me-” Edd looks up from inspecting his ripped sleeve- “Red Leader’ll want me back anyway.” tom holds up his head, fixing his vest before Matt hands him a thick, black block with a strap coming from it. Tom nods, strapping it around his eyes, the beginning of the strap firmly on his temples. He clips it at the back of his neck, green pixels flickering onto the screen. sniffing and marching out of the small, dim alleyway, Tom starts making his way… wherever he’s going, matt on his tail.
Edd frowns, eyebrows upturned. “No tom, you don’t-”
Matt cuts him off with a small needle to the neck. Tom winces at the blood that sprayed onto his checkered insignia, “Ack, gross- that’ll stain, no doubt…”
Edd wakes up at home, patryck gone, like always. As he makes his coffee, it occurs to him there’s a stinging pain in his neck. His face scrunches up, and he staggers to the bathroom. He slams the medicine cabinet shut, mirror reflecting the yellow bathroom light intensely. Edd pays no attention,though, softly pressing around the wound on his neck. He notices a shiny silver needle sticking out of his neck, and so he grabs patryck’s tweezers off the grimy sink and starts pulling it out carefully, wincing.
He sighs, inspecting it. It showed the tiniest bit of green, nearly transparent residue. His balled his fists, before letting out an exaggerated exhale- grabbing a plaster and sticking it on his neck, before walking to his record player, having being almost fully sobered from his grogginess, (from noticing he had a straight up poisoned needle in his neck) and putting on whatever record he could feel first when he stuck his hand into his crate of vinyls. See, nobody really wanted their records since everything went wrong, but hey- more for him.
He winced, noticing the first few lyrics as… from a certain time in his life. He wasn’t entirely sure, but they sounded like something from one Josip Lisac, he was sure- a croatian ska artist tom was all about in maybe... 2011. Yikes. Hadn’t thought back that far in a while. Nonetheless, edd danced and mimed about to the songs- barely sparing a thought for his… old friend. Oh how he hated that phrase.
Matt’s murmuring something, tom with his earpiece in, running the streets of Red Leader’s city. Tom looks into the murky sky now, the bold outline out his leader’s tower looming in the blue dust. He sniffs, then coughs, then marches to the side, moving an old play poster and pushing the button underneath it. He looks up, and a platform slides out over he and matt’s head. He exhales exaggeratedly, and matt shoots him a look.
A glass cylinder encases them, and tom looks down. Matt sighs, murmuring something to himself. Tom doesn’t bother listening. Rides down were usually boring, so he had taken to fiddling with the hem of his checkers whenever he was on one- and this ride was no exception. By the time they reached their level, he had barely gotten a piece of fluff out.
He looks up, re-reading the overhead signs for what felt like the millionth time, automatically going down the corridor to his study to change in to his uniform. The alley of sorts was dimly lit, tom couldn’t see a meter in front of him- but when he looked from the rough carpet to the poorly mixed concrete walls, he can see portraits of generals next to off-white candles dripping with wax.
He runs his fingers across the wall to his left as he goes, the feeling of uneven concrete messing with the feeling on his fingertips. And he gets to his door, clearly marked “THOMAS GOLD”.he grabs his kep off of the chain on his jean pocket, and unlocks his door, quickly unbuttoning his vest and throwing it onto his straw mattress. He then pulls a red sweater on, before shrugging his navy blue trench coat over his shoulders and buttoning it at his naval, and again at his collarbone, and once more at his chest.