[identity profile] vladya-yamirich.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] groznyj_grad
(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.

Date: 2006-09-08 04:47 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] andrei-isaev.livejournal.com
"You know...he's really doing well," remarked Andrei, watching Vladya shotgun booze like a champ.

He glanced at Matvei and laughed.

"I think he's about ready. He won't feel a thing.

He lifted his chin.

"Hey, Borishnakov. Feel like taking a little jog around the vehicle yard?"

Date: 2006-09-08 07:53 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] gurlukovich.livejournal.com
It was nice to see how happy everyone was at the sight of so much good alcohol. While Sergei wasn't the hugest fan of drinking until he couldn't see straight, he knew that most of his comrades were. If he was expected to deliver, he wasn't going to let them down.

Quite a few were sending him thankful grins, which he returned with equally sincere smiles. He didn't drink much himself; for one thing, he wasn't exactly in the mood for it, and secondly, Ocelot had warned him to be careful. He was probably taking the major's words a little too seriously, but he tended to do that.

The new blood was mixing in well, though. He seemed to be fit to drink with the rest of them. Sergei would have liked a chance to speak with him so they could begin to form a friendship beyond mutual understand of being part of a close unit, but it was hardly the time for such things. No, he had a bit more to do before he was officially one of them.

Andrei seemed eager to get on with that, as well. Sergei just laughed and shrugged. It was cruel, but they'd all done it.

Almost all, anyway. He glanced at Kassian, try to size him up. But there wasn't much to read there, which really made Sergei even more curious. Perhaps he would ask Andrei about it--he seemed to be chipping away at the man already.

Date: 2006-09-08 09:55 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] charushkin.livejournal.com
"Oi, oi, Sasha," Matvei remarked lazily from his perch, "you'll have to do better than that."

He gave a grin, knowing no offense would be taken. He and Sergei were permanently on good terms.

He faced Andrei as he noticed that familiar, trouble-making smile settle into place.

"You really are a sadist," Matvei shook his head, trying not to laugh. "You go push him outside. I'm staying here."

Date: 2006-09-08 07:39 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] andrei-isaev.livejournal.com
Andrei rolled his eyes, standing up and stretching languidly.

The heat was nice, but not as hot as his reptilian senses liked it, and he hadn't reached his breaking point yet, but duty was duty.

Fucking snow it was, then.

"Oh, so it's like that, is it?" he good naturedly. " 'Andrusha Alexich, I don't how to roll around in snow, can you show me?'"

He shot a look at Matvei, and snatched the junior lieutenant's towel from him with a quick hand.

"If you're staying in like a proper lady, you won't be needing this," he smirked, wrapping it around his loins and tucking it in deftly. "You know, Makno, sadist is a terrible word. I really prefer 'catalytic diplomat'."

He glanced at Vladya, who was champing at the bit, already raring to go, hand on the wooden door.

Andrei laughed.

"Khuy, bratan! I've never seen anyone so eager to earn his spots before." He looked down, and grinned. "You know, Vladya, you can wear a towel out on the walk through the hall. We just whip them off before we dive into the banks. Put them right back on."

He turned surretitiously to his grinning comrades, making an exaggeratedly ironic face behind Vladya's back.

"It's not like we'd make you go through the Grad naked or anything. I mean, we're bastards, but that would just be...gosh, can you imagine how embarrassing that would be?"

Date: 2006-09-08 09:52 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] gurlukovich.livejournal.com
Sergei smirked at Matvei's teasing tone. He would have dared the other to finish the drink off for him, but there was no reason to encourage Matvei to take in more alcohol than he already was. Sergei instead took a few more sips, watching the exchange between Andrei and the new one.

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.

Date: 2006-09-08 11:56 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] andrei-isaev.livejournal.com
Andrei grinned at Sergei.

"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.

Date: 2006-09-09 12:13 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] capt-kasya.livejournal.com
Something was happening.

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.

Date: 2006-09-09 02:55 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] andrei-isaev.livejournal.com
Isaev didn't have time to hide his surprise.

"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."

Date: 2006-09-09 03:21 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] capt-kasya.livejournal.com
Kassian wasn't sure of what he was getting into, but found himself unworried. He would hold Isaev at his word, then, and let the lieutenant take the lead.

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.

Date: 2006-09-09 04:34 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] andrei-isaev.livejournal.com
It wasn't far to the end of the hall, from there it was out the metal door and down four flights of external concrete stairs.

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."

Date: 2006-09-09 08:06 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] andrei-isaev.livejournal.com
Andrei grinned to himself, impressed by the man's fortitude, even five or six sheets to the wind.

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.

Date: 2006-09-08 11:42 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] andrei-isaev.livejournal.com
Andrei's eyebrows rose briefly.

"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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