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The last time The Pain had received an order from The Boss was during the second World War. Except for right now. The Pain sits at his desk, turning over a letter addressed to him. Or, rather, his civilian name, Arin Espid. The postage stamp was of a hornet, the sight making him smile softly. A small hub of hornets hover around him, the rest scattered amongst their businesses. A couple of them land on the letter, curious on what their queen was doing. Reading the cursive handwriting, it's quite a simple message. For normal eyes, it would be an old friend asking how their long pal was doing, and to keep them updated. But to the hyperspecifically trained eye, it was a message about their unit being reformed, under a new supervisor in Russia, and details to meet in a backwater pub, away from prying eyes. Thankfully he hadn't decided to settle in America like he originally planned, as travelling with his swarm was always a little finnicky. Not that he faults them by any means.
The Fear had opened a letter as well, the stamp one of a spider. Addressed to Petra Santos, it had the same instructions as the Pain's letter. He was excited to see his old unit again, especially The Pain. He'd picked his civilian name, Petra, in The Pain's honor. He couldn't deny the man had occupied his thoughts during the 20 years he'd settled in Brazil as a tour guide. So Petra gathered a bag and began booking a trip to England.
After too many cramped spaces to travel in and through-- he and his swarm felt mutually agitated, as moving about is always hard when you're over 2 meters tall and have a hive of hornets to carry around with you-- he finally finds himself in front of the half-run-down pub they all were tasked to meet in. He walks in, spotting the ever-familiar stern face of his boss- The Boss- blonde hair held up in a ponytail, along with the gentle face and almost-wiry silver locks from The Sorrow. He notices quite the familiar green parrot and long white beard of the ever-esteemed sniper, The End. He settles into an empty spot next to The Sorrow, quietly following along the conversation the three were having, offering in mild input. He gently moves the bag from his side to his lap, with The Sorrow- Sergei, he learns quickly- giving him a cautious look, knowing all too well the contents in the bag, and the temper it may hold.
The Fury- Misha now- entered next, looking a bit strange in civilian clothes. He sat with the group, listening along to the conversation. Then came The Fear. Petra's hair had grown out a good bit- he was due for a trim very soon. He looked much older, as was to be expected. As he stepped into the pub, his eyes locked onto the familiar figure of The Pain. He smiled, the most genuine smile he'd had in 20 years.
Under his balaclava, The Pain's- Arin's, in this setting- eyes crinkled in a genuine smile as well, scootching just slightly to offer room for the Brazilian man to sit next to him. Anyone- and everyone- at the table could hear his increase in happiness, the bag on his lap letting out a buzz at his feelings. Once Petra sits down, Joy orders a round of drinks for everyone, along with a shot of water for Arin's swarm. After more idle chatter, and the drinks being passed around, Joy finally starts up a proper conversation. "So," she begins, after taking a sip of her drink. "How has everyone been? It's been, what, twenty-odd years since we've all gotten together like this? Surely someone has something interesting to talk about." Her tone is light; if anyone listened in, all they would hear is a weird group of friends finally meeting up after far too long apart.
Misha said something about living in Russia still and doing odd jobs, flicking a zippo as he spoke. Then Petra spoke up, first glancing at Arin with joy in his gaze then giving his old unit a once-over. "I've been well. Been a tour guide since I retired, showing people through the Brazilian wilderness." He elbowed Arin lightly. "What about you? Been good, I hope?"
He nods. "Yes, the Slovenian wilderness has been quite kind to me," he speaks, voice slightly muffled by the fabric covering his mouth. Nothing the unit shouldn't be used to by now. "As on the nose as it may be," he starts with a twinkle in his eye, "I've been into beekeeping and gardening. It makes things a little easier for me, plus... I quite enjoy it, I have to say." As he speaks, he gently unzips his bag, opening it just enough to let in some airflow and to slip in the shot glass of water. A hornet on the smaller side crawls out, flying the short distance to land on Petra's hand, curious on who- or what- was making their queen so happy. Joy nods in response to Arin's couple sentences. "Well, Sergei and I had decided to live under the same roof, starting to set our roots," the two look at each other through the corner of their eyes, their connected hands hidden under the table gently squeezing. "But other than that, it's been quite calm in our department, all things considered. Always things to do, where we live."
Petra nodded along to both responses, glancing down at the hornet perched on his hand with a soft smile, eyes crinkling. The End, now Joseph, spoke up, old voice soft. "I took up teaching English in an institution in England. Reminds me of my youth, and the teenagers love having my bird in the classroom. They named her Polly." The bird, perching on his shoulder, cocked her head at the name. Surprisingly it was the same bird from 20 years ago. A pause, and Joseph smiles widely. "Joy, you never told them the best news of all!" He leaned over, slowly grabbing her hand and holding it up. A wedding band.
Sergei holds his hand up as well, showing their matching wedding bands. "About 18 years ago, I proposed." He speaks gently, his voice soft, a fondness underlining his words. "I had thought she initially said no, as she seemed annoyed," Joy only smiles wider as a couple brows furrow. "But it turns out she had also wanted to propose, I had just done it first." "And we're only hearing about this now?" Arin asks, light and mock offense in his voice. In all honesty, everyone at the table is aware as to why they kept it under wraps until now. "We hardly had a celebration, let alone a wedding." Joy replies, both of the Morozov's faces very fond in expression. "Neither of us wanted to make too huge of a fuss, so we had our own little date over it and became legally married about a week after we each proposed."
Misha mused a "congratulations", and Petra was beaming, shifting his hand that the bug was perched on. "Very happy for the two of you," Petra started, tone happy but shifting just slightly as his tongue switched to code. "Any plans for birdwatching this spring?" Why did you bring us all here?
"Oh, nothing too major," Joy lightly swats her hand, as if they really were talking about birdwatching. "I believe I heard some robins, I'm hoping to catch a glimpse of those." The assignment is in Russia. "Some doves have settled on one of our windowsills, as well."
I'm keeping watch on arising tensions in that area. "Hopefully they don't tear up any of our plants," Sergei mutters, taking a sip of his drink. Let's wish things don't get too destructive on our mission. The hornet seems to settle on Petra's hand, content to simply sit there on it, every so often letting out a light flutter of it's wings, not enough to fly away, but enough to remind Petra that it's there.
Robins," Misha echos, seemingly excited to be tasked back home. A realization hit Petra. "And you want us to come with you to birdwatch this spring?"
Joy's face grows slightly solemn, although she does her best to not let the mask slip to be too noticeable to onlookers. "Yes, I'm hoping we'll be able to spot a few blackbirds on our way, before the vultures startle them all off." It's a suicide mission. They will not be making it back alive.