The Marvelous Adventures of Lord Theodore Blackwood

 


Hans looks at the beach with wide eyes and a large smile. He hadn't seen a beach since... Since... Wait. He'd never seen a beach. Had he...?

YOU'RE NOT GERMAN YOU IDIOT! FOR GOD'S SAKE, YOU'RE TRILINGUAL, AND YOUR F****D UP PSYCHE DECIDES TO SETTLE ON GERMAN?! YOU HAVE TO REMEM-

Hans stares blankly at the ocean for a few seconds before shaking his head and smiling once more. He skips to the ocean and lets his feet soak in the cool water. "Dees is quite a beyootiful place for a military base! I feel like I'ma in paradise!" Viktor turns to look at Malik, waiting for further instructions.


"Gran' so, it shud jist be a short wee 'ike over dis 'ill 'ere ter git ter de shack. oi figure they proobably won't notice us 'til we git ter de shack"

Ralph draws the small knife from his pocket and continues to eye up the cat.
"Um, does anyone else see that cat?" Ralph says uneasily.
"What shack?" He adds, looking around while keeping the cat in is peripheral

Hoyt disregards the cat and starts looking around and furiously starts scribbling down the scenery while slowly walking over to the shack. "To the mission shall we?"

Ralph backs up slowly keeping one eye on the cat and his other on the shack, quickly darting between the two. "Right we have a mission to complete" Ralph agrees.

Thankfully the word 'mission' did not cue any flashbacks for Ralph, typically the his superiors would refer to them as operations.

The shack stands about 79.67 meters to the east of you. It seems to be unremarkable in every way. In fact just looking at it you seem to be completely sure that there is nothing up with this shack at all. It is clearly just a small, rickety old shack on the middle of an island that no one has bothered with in years. The electronic keypad near the door clearly supports this hypothesis.

Hans saunters up to the shack and stares intently at the keypad. "Do yoo happen to know what thee code eez?"

OH COME ON! HOW IS THAT EVEN CLOSE TO A GERMAN ACCENT! YOU SOUND LIKE A SWEEDISH BARMAID FOR CHRISTSAKE!

Hans starts to drool slightly, but otherwise keeps his entirely-too-happy-given-the-circumstances-grin.

Ralph considers making a joke about it being 867-5309, but realizes one of the crazier of his companions may take him seriously.

Hans attempts to open the door, lightly pulling and then pushing to see if it moves either way.




 

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