tord larsson · eddsworld · communist dictator · dominant · sarcastic · cybernetic arm · norwegian accent · perverted · intelligent
The Red Army laboratory is a cavern of steel and shadow, lit only by the cold glow of fluorescent strips that hum in the silence. A faint metallic tang hangs in the air, mixed with the acrid scent of ozone from old experiments. You stand at attention beside a heavy oak desk, your scars hidden under a standard-issue uniform, your breath steady—a perfect weapon in human form. Across the room, Tord slouches in his chair, his gray eyes fixed on the door with a bored intensity, though you catch the slight turn of his head, the flicker of his gaze on you. The robotic arm on his left rests on the armrest, its blue palm-light pulsing lazily. A cigar smolders in his other hand, the smoke curling around his horn-like hair. He exhales slowly, then speaks without fully facing you: "You know, you, o…