Straight From The Bottle [Tino]

[Deleted]

you say you want a revolution, well you know

T

he Underground wasn't where he was designated to spend his break time, but it had become a habit for the Weeds guard. Since the school and the Underground itself were so closely linked, it seemed to be a normal thing that guards from either post tended to visit each other when they had the time. Things like that were noticeable to Ivan. It always made the job more enjoyable when there were other guards on sight, even if they didn't all care to converse with him.

He observed them just as he enjoyed observing the children and older students that roamed within the vicinity of the school. In this case it was easier for Ivan to pick up on conversations and things that he could understand -- a majority of the guards were Russian or knew a well enough amount of the language. Because they were all human, they were less inclined to jab at Ivan like a mutant often would when in range of any human. It wasn't as if they all noticed Ivan, anyway, but they were still a source of entertainment when there wasn't anything else he could think of to do. Some of them were admirable for their rank or how long they had been working as a guard here. Ivan often found himself wishing he were of a higher rank, but he couldn't do very much to hasten that.

Just like the students, all of the guards ranged in age - of course they were all much older, but a number of them didn't always act like it. They were often laughing over something, barking out rude comments to any mutants that were in range to receive the blunt of them, occasionally making gestures that startled Ivan just to witness. It envied the Russian that they all seemed to be terribly friendly with each other... but sometimes he didn't really mind spending his break alone. A reluctant refrain from joining the usual troublemakers.

The smell of smoke always wafted from break areas. When visible, it floated to the skies like wisps of vapor did in cold temperatures -- thankfully today was not dreadfully cold, but tolerable and cool. He always hated the smell of tobacco and would have to hide his nose under the flap of his scarf when walking by, waving away stray ribbons of smoke with his hand.

The flask of vodka he had with him sloshed under his coat. He always made sure to have that during break -- if the other guards could smoke, there wasn't anything wrong with him drinking, was there? Not that he minded what anyone else would think of it. A flask wasn't nearly enough to get Ivan drunk on the job. He was walking on his way to another free, open spot; hoping to see a fresher face that was as need of company as he might be. Or at least, looked that way. His boots crunched in snow as he went, nearly uncovering the dead grass and ground that lie just beneath its white layers.

People always said that movement helped the body warm up. He knew that, but he felt a compulsion to sit for a while and admire the snow of winter while it lasted. Distancing himself from the other guards provided a nicer and quieter environment. It wasn't entirely lonely, however, since there was someone else situated there beside Ivan when he sat down. They might have been a complete stranger at first, since he had only cast them a brief first glance -- but he had seen that face before, hadn't he? A double take confirmed that he had passed this guard several times before, in and out of the Underground corridors. They had even exchanged a few words, as he could vaguely remember. This guard was one who seemed much more pleasant and sweeter than others, and that made Ivan curious as to how strong he could be in the right situations.

Name, name, name... Ivan remembered that the other's name was short and simple like his own-- ah. "Tino?" he recalled, speaking lightly to get the man's attention. He was in the process of retrieving that flask of vodka from his coat while speaking. "Ah, I thought I recogniset you a little.."

Word Count: 708
Tags: Tino Väinämöinen
Notes: 

by worldie for jen

[Tino Väinämöinen]

and maybe one day you'll

UNDERSTAND WHY

everything I touch surely dies

Wisps of cigarette smoke meandered through the air, carried away to far off places with the help of the gentle breeze. Tino stared out with blank violet eyes, aimlessly tracing the shadows along the forestline, debating what it would be like to just run. Run and live like a Wildman, beating his chest and chasing down rabbits, wrestling bears….

Haha, Tino wrestling bears. What a joke. The Fin took a long drag on his fag and let the nicotine rush ease his senses, before slowly letting the fumes seep from his mouth. He had bigger concerns to focus his attention on, and whether or not he could make it through a winter in Siberian territory was not one of them.

Tino put the cigarette to his lips but didn’t inhale. Instead, he pulled his knees to his chest and stared ahead, thinking deeply in regards to the major political issues surrounding Archadia. The Government consistently denied any trace of a problem to the public, masking it with sugarcoated lies and falsified claims of how perfect the system was. Worldwide broadcasts were released frequently, endorsing the concept of slavery that mankind purged years ago with the death of the sweatshop era in Southerneastern Asia. It was despicable and yet every person seemed to accept it without remorse, or at least turn a blind eye to the horrors of the situation.

Things were far from okay and the situation was only getting worse.

Tino took a breath and puffed out another lungfull of smoke. Mutants were not scot-free either. They were an issue and the Government had reason to restraint them. Mutants were gifted with inhuman abilities. Such creatures could be as war machines, weapons that could cause mass destruction. What about personal gain? Bank robberies and thefts would skyrocket. Society members of great importance could be assassinated easily. There was too much at risk to leave them wandering the streets, but the way the Government handled the outbreak of mutants was not acceptable either.

Tino hummed, tapping the tips of his boots together in thought.

As an agent of a security branch of the country, he was expected to fully endorse whatever his overseeing officer told him. Mutants were bad. They would always be bad. They lived to serve humanity. Being a soldier pitted against mutants would save innocent lives. Tino’s eyes hardened and he bit into his joint. He may have just been a pawn to the officials above, but he wasn’t without a brain. Tino let out a groan, too frustrated to try and deal with the whole mess he found himself in.

Honestly, he wished he could have just stayed in Moscow and continued his job of taking out renegade mutants involved in gang activity. Life was a whole lot simpler, and issues between mutants and humans were black and white, good vs bad. In the Underground… well, things weren’t so easy to categorize.

Tino heard the crunching of footsteps approaching, but he didn’t immediately turn to see who was advancing towards him. Most of the time, he sat alone on his breaks, digesting a cigarette as he sprawled his thoughts out in his head. Today was strange… the other guards only seemed to enjoy his company when they tormented him. The steps continued to grow in volume, so Tino adjusted himself and glanced to the side to see who it was.

It was not one of his regular coworkers… that he knew for certain. The man approaching him was large, towering over the Fin, even when Tino was standing. He apparently worked over at the Weeds Academy, serving to work the perimeter in that facility. Tino idly wondered what kind of person he was. If he was as cruel as Tino’s fellow prison guards, did he present that to the youngsters he was responsible for? Tino didn’t know.

When the tall man made eye contact, Tino popped the butt of the cigarette into his mouth, chewing it a few times before swallowing (yes, Tino realized how unhealthy his habits were, but he’d likely die in a fight long before something like cancer took him). His name was spoken aloud, almost like a question. Tino smiled and nodded, which served as an invitation for the other to sit down with him in the snow. The man seemed equally as polite, even if his English was slightly broken. Tino wondered if he should just slip into his Russian tongue, but he decided to practice his English.

“Yeah, I’ve seen you around a few times. Your name is…” Tino paused, raking his brain for the title. He normally didn’t put forth much effort in reciting his coworkers names unless he suspected them of treason. Who was this fellow again… Something along the lines of Johannes? “… Janne?” Tino tried hesitantly, looking sheepish as he glanced up at the other, looking for confirmation in the man’s eyes and expression.

@jen, words: 818, notes: sorry for the wait

EDEN OF GS.

[Deleted]

we all want to change the world

D

id he just...?

That eye contact was broken so that Ivan could notice the butt of a cigarette (he was positively certain that's what it was) disappear behind a pair of smiling lips. The Russian's reaction to Tino's unspoken invitation was subdued, because it took him a while to process that a cigarette had just been ingested. A startled surprise had stricken the taller man, yes, but it was more a morbid fascination than anything.

There was nothing Ivan could do but redundantly comment, "I do not think anyone is suppost to do that." Nevertheless an act like that was not something to keep Ivan from accepting a friendly request, so he sat down. One less cancer stick to litter the ground, he supposed. Snow served as a rather suitable seat, if not for the gradual moisture and cold temperature, and to sit with company beside him was already a given comfort. His flask of vodka remained in his clutch.

“Yeah, I’ve seen you around a few times. Your name is…” Ivan's grin widened in amusement, effectively holding back a chuckle. Now it was Tino's turn to struggle over a misplaced name. Their names contained the same amount of letters, the same number of syllables - he hoped that it wouldn't be too challenging to remember. As long as any Russian pronunciation weren't too butchered, he wouldn't have minded an off-guess. "... Janne?"

Ivan only blinked, which likely didn't hail the confirmation Tino sought from him. A shake of his head came shortly afterward, and that same smile was present with his short response. "Nyet." He could praise himself for having guessed Tino's name correctly, though he at least knew to acknowledge the Fin's effort. The name he said sounded rather cute, not that Ivan would admit to that. Since the other man had responded in English, Ivan assumed, as greatly as he preferred his mother tongue, that was the language he should continue with.  "Bot that sounts a little close! It is Ivan." 

He brought his flask up, uncapped it and took a nice swig. When he lowered it, he pondered for a moment whether he should share. His eyes carried passive glances between the flask and to Tino. Maybe he should... For the time being, the flask was placed down between where he and Tino sat, nestled comfortably in a patch of snow. At least that would keep it cold. "Excuse my intrudink," Ivan started again (not very meaningfully, because intruding on people's business or alone time was something he regularly did). "I cannot remember whether you come from here, bot you do not seem to be one off the bully guarts that usually patrol arount here. We are both familiar with them, I am sure. I jost thought it woult be nice to join you ant talk."

As usual Ivan was good at commencing the talking part of things. He studied the face of the man beside him, looking for traces of spite or scorn that might oppose his observation. He trusted that his assumptions were correct, however, and that he hadn't anything to worry about. "Especially since you work in soch different environment than I do. Different people."

He was already making it rather obvious that the Underground sparked his interest. As much as he would like to question everything about that, he supposed he should slow down and start on a general topic. "Is everythink well?"

Word Count: 569
Tags: Tino Väinämöinen
Notes: 

by worldie for jen