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vladya-yamirich.livejournal.com) wrote in
groznyj_grad2006-08-28 12:41 pm
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GRU Barracks
(A new Ocelot, the more the merrier)
Vladislav was quite relieved when he was finally allowed to go to his assigned bunk and sleep. First days were always boring, hectic, and exhausting at the same time.
Groznyj Grad was a very unusual base, filled with very unusual soldiers. This had become apparent when he'd nearly been knocked down by a soldier dressed in some frightening, full body, flame proof suit shortly after arriving at the base.
It had become undeniable when Major Raikov had grabbed him, by the crotch, then again, he wasn't the only one the Major had grabbed. That was slightly comforting.
Vladislav Yaromirovich Borishnakov had quickly come to the conclusion that this was where soldiers who fail their psych evaluations are sent.
But all of those thoughts left Vladya's mind as he closed his blue eyes, only to recall that Raikov had commented on those too. That was really the last thing to cross his mind before he fell asleep. He was too tired to be concerned about the Major.
Vladislav was quite relieved when he was finally allowed to go to his assigned bunk and sleep. First days were always boring, hectic, and exhausting at the same time.
Groznyj Grad was a very unusual base, filled with very unusual soldiers. This had become apparent when he'd nearly been knocked down by a soldier dressed in some frightening, full body, flame proof suit shortly after arriving at the base.
It had become undeniable when Major Raikov had grabbed him, by the crotch, then again, he wasn't the only one the Major had grabbed. That was slightly comforting.
Vladislav Yaromirovich Borishnakov had quickly come to the conclusion that this was where soldiers who fail their psych evaluations are sent.
But all of those thoughts left Vladya's mind as he closed his blue eyes, only to recall that Raikov had commented on those too. That was really the last thing to cross his mind before he fell asleep. He was too tired to be concerned about the Major.
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Vladislav nodded and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his waist. "Well, Andrusha. Since you put it that way... They do say it's best to learn by example... and don't call me Vladya." He really disliked that name.
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He didn't like being called Vladya. He'd make a note of that. He wondered if it was a simple dislike or if there was some reason he didn't approve of the name.
Snorting at Andrei, he shook his head, not able to stop some mild laughter. That was almost unfair, but hopefully the fresh meat would pick up on how sarcastic Andrei was being.
"Just take him out, Andrei," Sergei pressed. Poor guy should get it over with already.
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"All right, all right," he said. "I hope his fablous prizes are ready."
He'd asked Gurlukovich to go out to the vehicle yard and hang each of the Ocelot accessories on the end of a tank, a tricky proposition, as the tanks- and their barrels, were blanketed in snow.
Sergei got to use a ladder to get them up there.
Borishnakov, on the other hand, would have to shimmy-hump and monkey-crawl his way along the canon barrel to get to the end and retrieve them for himself.
Andrei idly wondered if that was sadistic, or merely ingenious.
He looked around the room as he backed out, hand on the knob.
"Anyone else who wants to take a dip, now's your chance to join us."
It wasn't out of line. Most of them did when they used the banya.
But most of the Ocelots had seemed disinclined to give up their bird's eye view.
Still, it never hurt to ask.
He could use more backup when Vladislaus inevitably decided he didn't feel like dry-humping a frozen gun arm with his tender joybits dragging and made a break for it, thus necessitating tackling.
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Kassian opened his eyes and paid attention, tracking the activity that had stirred in the group. Isaev seemed to be in the middle of it, of course, but it also looked like it was time to throw the new recruit in the snow.
He looked around at the rest of the Ocelots, trying to judge if the others were going along, but most kept their place. Kassian got up.
"I'll go," he said. In truth, he did not mind the cold. There were times when he'd had to nest outside for hours and after a while, he'd learned to adapt.
And he would feel more comfortable to be outside, not so many people all in one space. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist.
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"All right," he said, blinking, then smiling.
Irinarhov was the last person he would have expected to step up and give him a hand.
Well, not exactly. The Captain was one of the first people he'd have expected to led a hand. He'd proven that in the short time Isaev had known him.
But this sudden participatory streak...well, he could only assume Irinarhov wasn't above learning new tricks.
Andrei nodded.
"Da vai. Let's go then."
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Isaev met his eyes and smiled at him, which made Kassian lower his gaze and just nod slightly. Perhaps he had downed one too many swallows of slivovic. His face felt hot.
He was looking forward to sharp, chill air outside and the peacefulness of night. He followed Isaev and Borishnakov, bracing himself for the shock.
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The chill was welcome against his chest as Andrei pushed open the door.
He sighed, pleased, letting the fresh evening breeze lift his hair as his cheeks were touched by small, glinting stars of snow.
Perfect. The snow was deep and thick in this part of the yard, the tanks blanketed.
Andrei paused on the landing, putting his arm around Borisnakov's shoulder companionably.
"All right, here's the deal, Vladislaus. See those four tanks? Look what's hanging at the end of each barrel. There's your beret, your scarf, your gloves and your holster."
He shot a look at Irinarhov, a fleeting and conspiratory smile, before turning back to Borishnakov.
"Your boots, however, are in the dog yard. Right over...there." Andrei grinned. "They're in one of the dog houses. Probably Goliath's, if I don't miss my guess. He's Sergei's favorite," he explained, aside.
Andrei knew it depended on the recruit's personal cold tolerance how many trips a man had to take back to the banya and out again to retrieve all his items.
Occasionally someone made it to his boots and wriggled out to the ends of all the tank barrels in one trip.
He was betting on Borishnakov to be among the more hardcore, seeing as he was stone staggering drunk.
"You might want to get the boots first," he suggested, raising his eyebrows. "Without them you get a lot colder."
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It was time to make a good impression on his new unit. "Bring on the dogs," He muttered to himself, heading over for the dog yard in what was suppose to be a determined, dramatic stride.
The effect was ruined when he nearly tripped over a something in the snow. Not that his slightly drunken swaying had been very dramatic to begin with, but there was no denying his determination.
He paused outside the dog yard, staring to see if he could figure out which one of the little dog houses his boots were in. After identifying a likely target Vladislav carefully opened the door to the dog yard.
Hopefully the dog hadn't chewed on his boots.
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Sergei had left only puppies and half-grown puppies with access to the outside from their warm kennels, so Vladislaus had nothing to worry about, except being bratpacked, licked to death and probably knocked over.
"Watch," he whispered to the Captain. "This should be good."
He glanced up, as the locker room window slid open and a disembodied "Woooo!" sailed out.
The Ocelots were in form.
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His boots were, in fact, in there. Unfortunately, he woke up the dog when he went to get them. As the furry form stirred Vladya could tell that it wasn't a full grown, fully trained guard dog.
But the puppy was almost as bad as it wagged it's tail and tried to pounce on him, barking happily. The puppy didn't knock him over, but it did wake up the rest of it's little friends.
Vladya found himself mobbed by pups of various ages as he ran frantically for the exit, dogs trying to lick and jump on him every inch of the way.
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"And what would you suggest I call you, junior lieutenant Borisovich?" he asked, amused.
The rather tactless demand didn't faze him particularly, although he knew if Ilya was here in his stead, it would be a different story.
And a very different initiation process, he thought, wryly.
He'd be fighting to pull Ilya off the insubordinate soldier by now, as Imanov sought to familiarize the new recruit's face with the more intimate properties of tile grout.
Oblivious to his own vulnerable nudity, of course.
Andrei laughed out loud, shaking his head, knowing that no one would understand what brought on his sudden and abrupt levity.
For once, he was very glad Ilya was in the infirmary.
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"And what was that you said about earning spots earlier?" Hopefully it was a metaphor. Though, Vladislav had heard of hazing rituals that had involved painting recruits with camouflage paint, and then making them do all sorts of strange things naked with the paint all over their bodies. Of course, he figured it was just a bunch of stories to scare trainees.
Andrei was laughing, though, apparently he had found something amusing. Vladislav wasn't quite sure what. These Ocelot's weren't nearly as bad as he'd expected from what he heard when he first arrived on base.