fissionmailed | BIG SWEATY GYM TIMES/TORTURE

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BIG SWEATY GYM TIMES/TORTURE

[The Nexus gym is particularly loud and noisy today, as someone is in there barking orders like a standard drill sergeant, except the said orders are in Russian. The treadmill is rattling and rolling at a high speed, and there is the sound of feet clopping along on it in their frantic rhythm.

At the back corner upon entry, there is the large, imposing figure of Volgin, still quite large and still very imposing even in casual dress. He is currently overseeing the forced fitness regimen of one of the Raikovs he had come to grow some attachment to (as he is aware of clones in this place, but still grasping the concept). Fed up with this pattern of fattening Raikovs, the Soviet giant is determined to rectify the problem. Once a GRU colonel in charge of his own unit (in this Volgin's particular case), the proper care and maintenance of his men was a high priority and body shape was among those concerns.

No man looked like Volgin at his age without proper self-discipline! Like a good commanding officer, he feels it is his proper duty to keep his men in shape if they are so foolish as to let their discipline slip. There would be consequences.

Starting with this one.

Whenever Raikov's pace slackens, Volgin coolly holds a hand out, and a good electric probe to his asscheek helps him right back along. His face is locked for the time being into a stony indifference. No matter what sounds Raikov makes or how much he complains: There is a price to pay for letting such a beautiful body grow soft, and there will be correction.]

((OOC: Open post, anyone is free to walk in and interact in any way you see fit! Sometimes they're both there, sometimes Ivan is left there and Volgin is off doing something in another room. Pretty briefly, if he's out.))

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[Yeah, he does look a bit like a certain American Dog. Enough to have him debate between Ivan's fitness and tearing this bastard that ruined everything to wet, bloody shreds.

A grunt at Raikov:]

You stay there!

[Which, here, luckily for Snake, Volgin isn't terribly fast. Any matters in regards to speed has been mostly taken up by Raikov, but the older Soviet sure is trying.]

[He curses mentally at the overheard words and draws his gun. Solid's not foolish enough to go around unarmed, even if he was only planning on working out.]

[He fires a few shots behind him, aiming for the hulking man following him.]

[Volgin knew what a gun being drawn looked like, and that has him pausing to not take any more gunshots than he needed to today. For the concentration involved in deflecting the bullets, Snake was allowed to put more distance between them.

He was not going to get away this time!

Electricity, lingering from the shield, crackled. Snake could likely outspeed the old Colonel, but he had yet to see a man outrun his electricity ~~except slow videogame attacks or somesuch okay videogames~~.]

Snake! I will finish what we started decades ago, filthy American scum!

[Solid was fast, but not fast enough to outrun directed lightning. Pain courses through him, making him cry out involuntarily. Muscles spasm and he belatedly realizes with horror that the gun has fallen from his numbed hand.]

[After a moment, he also realizes that he'd fallen to one knee. Solid reaches for the dropped gun even as he begin to force himself back to his feet.]

[Capture means death, or worse. He knows this.]

[The sound of gunfire had Ivan nearly fly off the treadmill a second time today. Luckily, he caught himself and hopped off the side instead.

His bag nearby, shaking, exhausted, sweaty hands searched for his own pistol as a flurry of emotions bubbled up inside him--apprehension, anger, a sense of unbridled affection as Volgin would beat another man to a bloody pulp and he would be part of it. Mostly though, and more significantly, he was terrified to see Volgin hurt. As much as he denied it to himself he knew full well that even Volgin couldn't cheat death from a well placed gunshot wound to the head.

A beautiful makarov, scuffed, but obviously taken care of. That bastard was trying to kill Yevgeny.

He aimed and fired thrice, missing twice due to the distance, hastiness, his slippery grip and fatigue. The last one managed to hit--not fatal--but he didn't intend it to be. Ivan only wanted to incapacitated; to stop him from reaching his gun.]

[Today would not be progress in the war against abdominal fat, but further purchase of Raikov's use, this Raikov of the Nexus' use beyond personal tension, at Volgin's immediate side rather than on remote patrol in his stead.

Just what he wanted in a good soldier.

Volgin flashed Raikov an approving smug look before turning his attention towards the man that might as well have been the largest thorn in his side in his final days. The man that robbed him of everything.

And, Volgin felt he had all the time in the world to break each and every bone in his body.

Snake had little time before Volgin was on him. If he could not get away in time, he would be taken up by his neck in a choking grapple, suspended off his feet to meet the Soviet beast at eyelevel.]

Edited 2011-01-20 01:56 (UTC)

[He grunts in pain as the bullet lodges in his arm and then he can't even do that as the Russian's hands wrap around his neck.]

[Solid stares into the man's rage-filled face, realizing with a certain numbness that he probably wasn't going to survive this encounter.]

[Still, he kicks out, not willing to simply give up.]

[Once Solid is taken hold of Ivan works his way closer to the scene. His gun is never lowered, strafing around to Volgin's side in order to keep it trained on the offender.]

This is Snake? [He's pretty sure he's seen some of these around, but they all go by different names. Not that it really mattered.

It was a shame really, he was quite the looker.]

[Volgin pulled Snake in for a closer look, hardly gentle in tilting the man as needed, fixated on his ... very familiar face. It had to be him. The Soviet was triumphant, but panting from his exertion. His breath was hot and pungent, but any organic odors were drowned out by the overwhelming ozone smell, something not unlike burning electronics.]

Look at this, Ivan: Our little American friend has two eyes.

If he doesn't talk, would you like them for yourself?

Nngk!

[The realization that they were mistaking him for his father strikes him suddenly. Solid's situation just got a whole lot worse.]

[He fights back despite the pressure at his neck, trying to find a weakness to somehow exploit.]

[Ivan doesn't understand the two-eyed reference--he came before Naked Snake had lost his. Nonetheless he wears a small, devilish smile. It would rival Volgin's if only it weren't on such a pretty face.]

I'll find something to do with them.

[He narrows his eyes at Solid now, gun steady.]

Stop squirming or I'll shoot.

Edited 2011-01-20 04:00 (UTC)

[Snake's resistance is countered by twitch of the giant's body, and the crackling burning and blind of the electric shock that followed.

Drinking in that beautiful scent, the thrill of domination, Volgin's voice drops to a cruel purr:]

Ivan, do you have a knife? I could do this with my fingers, but a knife would be... quite neater than these, yes?

[He wiggles the thick, gloved fingers of his free hand, for emphasis.]

[His muscles jerk and a low, strangled scream of pain is forced from Solid's throat. The bullet lodged in his arm attracts the currant and magnifies it, burning the tendons and flesh surrounding it.]

[Stunned, he goes limp in the man's grip. His ears are ringing too loudly for him to properly hear what Volgin is saying.]

[There's that smile again, a sweet little devil.]

Of course, Yevgeny.

[He walked back to his bag, procuring a stunknife. Knowing of the dangerous it held for the Colonel he made sure to point them out before handing it over.]

Yevgeny, look here.

[He spoke quietly, flipping the knife over so he held the blade in his hand allowing him to easily point out the button on the handle.]

It's electrically charged when you hit this button, so be careful.

[Not-so-found memories of killing an alternate of his lover sprung up with it.]

[Volgin was fortunately enough in the bulk department to be able to handle a captive in one arm, freeing his other to be educated in the ways of this ... electrical knife.

He took it. Eyed it. Tested this electrical feature curiously. Let it buzz dangerously. Turned it off.

Interesting.

Without further warning, the electrically-ravaged Snake was harshly slammed into a wall to his back. An arm pressed into his throat.

The blade hovered dangerously before one of his eyes.]

Which one we should start with, Ivan? The left or the right?

Guh!

[Desperate, Solid tries to force his abused body to respond and fight back, but to no avail. Sick helplessness coils in his stomach as he hangs, the knife growing large in his vision.]

[He focuses on Volgin's face, glaring at him balefully.]

B-Bastard...

[Ivan was close; he ran a hand over Solid's toned stomach beneath his clothes. A shame really, he was born on the wrong side of this Cold War. If only he had been one of their comrades...]

Right.

[He said it firmly, retracting his hand and smiling. He took a small step back to get full view of the show.

Torture was not something he saw so often anymore. A sickening display, but at the same time morbidly fascinating. Depending on the patron it could be quite erotic. His limits though, fell short of Yevgeny's. Ivan preferred to let them live unless they truly deserved death.

In this case, well.]

Edited 2011-01-22 02:42 (UTC)

[How cute. He was a bastard.

A cool tone:]

Right it is, then.

[The knife snapped to the right and held, a thread away from the sensitive surface of that beautiful eye. The tip tilted, practiced in the large hand, the wielder curling his lip in his sadistic delight as he drank in the other man's anxiety.

Wrong side of the Cold War, indeed.

A terrible shame.

But, only the beginning of a fate he deserved.

The arm around Snake adjusted, pressing against his body, but his hand was forcing the right eye wide open. He wanted it clean. Without further warning, only a toothy grin, the blade dug into the region where the pink tissue met with the white.

The knife sought to pop it out, pull it out enough to that it may sever all its muscular connections inside his face. Blood dulling its glint, in the end, it was a sloppy cut by an overeager man that enjoyed the process moreso than the result.

The eye's final muscle was cut free, and finding some purchase in the strands of attaching tissue of varying lengths, the older Soviet held the bloody organ up to his lover, beaming.]

What do you think, Ivan? [A warm, delighted purr.] It's yours now.

Edited 2011-01-22 03:16 (UTC)

[There isn't pain until a few seconds after the knife begins working its way into and around Solid's eye. Warm blood flows down his face, making his remaining eye burn.]

[His body moves instinctively to get away from the agony, writhing like an insect pinned and dying for a scientist's display.]

[The scream is caught in his throat as he feels the tugging of tendons and how the knife scrapes the inner cavity, sees the malicious grin on his tormentor's scarred face, and hears the wet sounds his eye makes as it is pulled from the socket.]

[Ivan had gazed at the scene, a sort of silent awe in his face as he watched. Disgusted, revolted, but intrigued and unable to look away; just as always. The blood running down his face was something of beauty, he thought.

He looked up at Volgin as that eye dangled in front of him like some perverse gift. Smiling he took it, observed it in his hands, shivers sent down his spine at the eerie slimy feeling.

His attention turned back to their captive. Bloody eye-socket. How much he probably wished they could put his eye back.]

Snake...do you want it back?

[He said it with mockingly. The eye dangled between two bloody fingertips in front of Snake's remaining eye.

After waiting for a reply he let it drop to the ground, and then promptly stepped on it.]

[The sound of the eye hiseyehiseyeohgodhiseye being crushed sent a shudder of revulsion through him. Solid's head lolls weakly in Volgin's grasp as he feels his body beginning to numb with shock.]

[Blood and tears mingle on his face, drawing a quiet groan from his roughened throat.]

[There was a low, powerful laugh, a cruel, mocking rumble. Volgin licked his partially marred lips, his eyes trailing from the mush that was once a soldier's most precious organ to the face and its bloody "tears". His single arm grip adjusted, electricity threatening to keep him in place if he dared struggle.

Snake more resembled a doll. Such a shame: A worthy opponent now a limp, little toy he could shake about.]

Oh Vanya, Vanya... You broke it.

[A coy tilt of his head.]

Am I going to have to get you another one?

[Volgin's tone sent a familiar wave of heat down him--more than anything they'd been doing thus-far. He steps closer, slowly pressing himself against the other man; a hand still covered it blood ran over his chest.

It was like the beginning of some grotesque pornography.]

I'll try not to break it this time, Zhenya~

[Body quaking in fear and anger, Solid puts all he has into a kick at Raikov.]

[nononononono-]

No-!

Hey! [Ivan pulled back, irritated. He punched Snake in the stomach.]

Yankee.

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Sorry about that, HTML special ed time for me!

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