COME TOGETHER - Interlude A: Number 3
Jul. 13th, 2007 06:17 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dethoratsBack to the land of ice and snow and pickled herring and adorable rhythm guitarists!
Title: Flying High
Rating: G
Word Count: 2306
~Beep Beep Beep ~
The alarm sounded its daily clarion claxon of annoyance and low groans and mutters echoed in the dark room until a long, slender-fingered hand reached out from beneath the comfort of warm covers and turned it off. In the immediate hush, the movements from the kind figure that had silenced the alarm seemed loud to the one making them but Toki’s daily habits were routine and his bunkmates ignored the faint rustles and creaks. As was his way, Toki sat up in bed and stretched, first overhead as far as he could reach without his butt leaving the mattress and then down until he could feel the lumps of his toes against the base of his fingers. Then, never without a small amount of reluctance because his bed was warm and soft, no matter what his companions claimed, he swung his legs out from under the covers and put his bare feet flat onto the chilled floor.
Padding softly down the line of his bed, his clothes were ready and waiting on his footlocker and he carried them off along with a pair of battered but sturdy sneakers. The tiles of the bathroom were even colder against the bottoms of his feet and Toki shivered and hopped slightly in place as he wiggled into a pair of sweats. Socks and sneakers followed and then his heavy winter coat, gloves, scarf and hat. Footsteps nearly silent, Toki headed past the row of beds with their snoozing occupants and slipped quietly out the door into the small antechamber. Lights swept periodically past the two double-paned windows and ice-blue eyes squinted against the sudden piercing stabs as Toki double-checked his attire. Then, bracing himself, he opened the heavy main door and stepped out into the early morning.
Even at that hour Ørland was busy with air traffic; commercial planes and a few military flights were both in place on the runways and he could see the controllers with their jeep-mounted lights driving slowly down one to guide a Sentry into taxi-ing position. Snow was falling lightly but steadily and more crews were out plowing in the frozen air. Toki spared a final look at the planes before he slowly began to jog towards a hangar only a few hundred meters away. Inside was much warmer and he shed his coat and other winter gear with a sigh of relief. In spite of the short distance and his extra covering, the cold had reddened his nose and the bottoms of his ears. There was coffee waiting but he ignored it in favor of a large glass of orange juice. Thus fortified and awake, he joined the other two men already in the room on the indoor track.
Running – it was the most frequent form of physical exercise he was able to get at the moment and Toki was loath to give it up. His mind never felt as free as it did when he lost himself to the pounding rhythm of his heart and his legs, the steadily pumping bellows of his lungs. It was a treat too, to be able to run and stretch his limbs so freely in the middle of Norway’s winter. Already into his second year in Ørland, Toki still hadn’t quite gotten used to all the changes in his life but he certainly didn’t regret a single one of them.
He had turned 18 in September of 1993 and promptly on the morning of his birth he had removed his letter from its hiding spot under a floorboard. Toki had had precious few belongings and what he chose to wear and gather together into a pitifully small bundle that morning had all been gifts, nothing from his parents. Somehow he had managed to stand impassively in front of his father, his poor excuse for luggage at his feet, while he watched the Reverend read the photocopied letter and scowl before tearing it into pieces. Oslog Wartooth was not about to let his only son slip easily from his hands but Toki had been prepared and there were more copies of the official letter waiting and a plane already chartered and scheduled to pick him up in less than an hour. And the Norwegian Royal Air Force had already received confirmation of his enlistment and they would come and find him if he didn’t appear. Toki was leaving Hastanfjord and there was nothing his father could do to stop him.
Staying any longer in that hushed isolated village would have crushed him, turned him into a pale wraith like his mother or eventually sent him out screaming into the snow to die. It had been expected that he would take the conscientious objector option to his mandatory military service but then he would have ended up never leaving and he had to get out and away, find out who he really was beneath the weight of his father’s harsh words and his mother’s silence. Ørland was almost due north from his home, located along the Atlantic coast. Toki had never seen the sea before, even though Hastanfjord wasn’t too far from Oslo and was, in fact, named for a fjord itself. He’d never been more than three miles at most, ranging that far on infrequent hunting trips, and his flight was the first time he’d ever ridden in a mechanical vehicle. It was obvious that he was naïve and somewhat ignorant about the modern world but Toki couldn’t hide his excitement or his curiosity and the pilot kindly explained many of the controls during the brief hop to Oslo.
When he arrived at the Ørland Main Air Station, he’d easily passed the physical fitness test and some of the written tests and the English exam but he had utterly failed the examinations on history and geography as well as some basic technical questions. The administrator had been mildly appalled until Toki had briefly explained about where he was from. History came from his father’s teachings and he had known that most of it was at the very least shaded by the Reverend’s skewed world view but it turned out that it was largely all false or made up. As for geography, his father had seen little need for his flock to know about the world around them when it was such a dire place and without knowing what was around them, the people would remain close with no desire to wander away. And, seeing as Hastanfjord was almost pre-technological minus its cell phone towers, it was a wonder Toki hadn’t been spooked by the machines surrounding him on every side. To the contrary, he’d been fascinated by all the gadgets and devices and the administrator shrewdly decided where to place the young Mr. Wartooth.
After a month in basic training with his fellow eighteen year old enlistees, where Toki excelled in the physical tests and proved that his aim with a gun was even better than what he had had at home with a sling or the old single-shot rifle, he started specialized classes. With his clever fingers and keen enthusiasm, Toki learned quickly how to run and maintain the communications boards the Station used to coordinate its flights. He was trained as well on some basic helicopter mechanics and like all of the grunts, he took his turn clearing the runways with the plows and doing more routine things like standing for sentry duty and a round of KP duty that was better off never being mentioned. Although he had dreamed of becoming a pilot when the letter informing him of his service requirements had first arrived, Toki had no regrets. As fun as it was to ride in the planes and the helicopters, it was more enjoyable to watch them and marvel at what man had wrought. That was blasphemy, pure and simple, but he didn’t care. There were few things as incredible as watching an enormous chunk of metal take to the air.
Life in Airwing 138 had been good and a year had passed almost before Toki realized it. Then it was September again and his friends in the service had gotten him the first birthday present he’d ever received. Toki talked seldom about his past in Hastanfjord. It was just too weird and hard for other to relate to and sometimes he was met with pity, which he couldn’t stand. But he had spoken once or twice wistfully about his lost guitar and a few times he’d taken a turn on Dag’s acoustic, producing music that had opened more than a few pairs of eyes. He had torn off the wrapping paper and then very nearly embarrassed himself by crying because there had been a used red Gibson Flying V and a small portable amp beneath. Shyly, following his friends’ enthusiastic urgings, he’d plugged in and tuned carefully, fingertips lingering on the finish and caressing the strings. Toki Wartooth had never heard of Eddie Van Halen and he didn’t know a single note of ‘Eruption’ but what exploded from the amp was similar in scope, speed, and power. Raw and unbridled guitar glory and his friends exchanged awed glances and then had to smile because Toki was playing with his eyes closed and the grin on his face stretched from ear to ear.
The peacetime strength of the Norwegian Royal Air Force generally stood at around two thousand. Toki was offered the chance to continue his enlistment and he, unlike many of his friends, opted to take that opportunity. He didn’t have any plans, his thoughts about the future having never gotten further than his escape from Hastanfjord and his parents. Besides, he was good at his job, running and repairing the signal lights on the F-16 runway, and he would never get tired of watching the planes come and go. Too, the Air Force took good care of him; he had warm clothing and shelter and food in abundance and quite the tidy little nest egg socked away. A friendly and good-natured young man despite his upbringing, he made friends easily and his barrack mates adored him for his almost hyper happiness, childish enthusiasm for life, and for his incredible guitar playing. It was enough to forgive him his early morning alarm.
Toki slowed his jog, bringing it down to a fast walk and then a slower one as his pulse rate gradually declined. He preferred to run out in the open air but it was privilege enough to run at all in the winter and he was grateful for the gym. Espen was already through and stretching and Toki held his feet while his fellow airman did his sit-ups before they switched places. Two hundred or so push-ups and several sets of lunges later and Toki considered himself finished. There were some free weights tucked into one corner but he didn’t feel like messing with them that morning. What he wanted next was a cup of coffee, or as his mates called it, a cup of sugar with a smattering of caffeine. The stuff was bitter, though, and sugar was a luxury that delighted his senses and gave him more than enough energy for the day. He made his cup, smiling a bit when Espen laughed and rolled his eyes at the stack of empty sugar packets accumulating next to the coffee, and took a hearty swig.
It was Valentine’s Day, some American holiday that the NATO troops had been buzzing about for the past few days, and there were plans laid for that evening. Toki didn’t know much about love and he certainly didn’t have a girlfriend – women being largely scarce on the airbase except in the form of pinups, pornography, and as the constant topic of conversation – but he could appreciate a good outing. It wasn’t often that he got away from Ørland but tonight he and three of his mates were going into nearby Trondheim to catch a show. Trondheim was the third largest city in Norway and, discounting his very brief jaunt by plane and taxi through Oslo, it was the biggest, most populous place Toki had ever seen. Nearly one thousand years old, Trondheim was the education capitol of Norway and also had a vibrant music scene thanks to the presence of two different music schools. Add in the presence of various foreign nationals thanks to Ørland’s importance to NATO, and it was a very cosmopolitan city. It was a tad intimidating to Toki too, although after receiving his guitar and having to think a bit more about his future, he’d managed to venture into the city twice on his own. Once he’d needed new guitar strings and the other time had been to experience a McDonald’s just to see what all the commercials were about. But this time he would be going to a concert.
Magnus and Ivar had taken him several times to see shows but they were into the jazz scene. Toki had found the experience pleasant enough but there wasn’t enough guitar to really satisfy him. Tonight had been Rune’s idea and they were to see an actual rock band. Radios were common enough on the base, as were cassette and cd players but Toki didn’t own any of these himself. He planned to; it was just a matter of finding the time, the right equipment, and the proper bands. He had high hopes for the evening and it was with a sugar-fueled burst of anticipation that he scrambled back into his coat and outer gear. The sooner he got back to his barracks, the sooner he could wake his mates up and the evening and the concert would be that much closer. Life, Toki decided as he paused in the anteroom to watch a plane take off into the pink light of dawn, was wonderful.
A/N: As usual all the places are real. I do a small amount of research for these babies and yes, Norway DOES have mandatory military service for males at age 18. The details and types of planes at Ørland are true as well. This series is largely routed in the real world at this point in time although more freakishness and surreality will definitely be moving in. XD Toki in the airforce makes me happy and it would explain his plane love, his shooting proficiency and even his adroitness with technology despite the implications that he grew up in an unevolved hell hole.
Anyway I hope this was enjoyable and I believe I'm going to try and get Chuck taken care of next.
Title: Flying High
Rating: G
Word Count: 2306
~Beep Beep Beep ~
The alarm sounded its daily clarion claxon of annoyance and low groans and mutters echoed in the dark room until a long, slender-fingered hand reached out from beneath the comfort of warm covers and turned it off. In the immediate hush, the movements from the kind figure that had silenced the alarm seemed loud to the one making them but Toki’s daily habits were routine and his bunkmates ignored the faint rustles and creaks. As was his way, Toki sat up in bed and stretched, first overhead as far as he could reach without his butt leaving the mattress and then down until he could feel the lumps of his toes against the base of his fingers. Then, never without a small amount of reluctance because his bed was warm and soft, no matter what his companions claimed, he swung his legs out from under the covers and put his bare feet flat onto the chilled floor.
Padding softly down the line of his bed, his clothes were ready and waiting on his footlocker and he carried them off along with a pair of battered but sturdy sneakers. The tiles of the bathroom were even colder against the bottoms of his feet and Toki shivered and hopped slightly in place as he wiggled into a pair of sweats. Socks and sneakers followed and then his heavy winter coat, gloves, scarf and hat. Footsteps nearly silent, Toki headed past the row of beds with their snoozing occupants and slipped quietly out the door into the small antechamber. Lights swept periodically past the two double-paned windows and ice-blue eyes squinted against the sudden piercing stabs as Toki double-checked his attire. Then, bracing himself, he opened the heavy main door and stepped out into the early morning.
Even at that hour Ørland was busy with air traffic; commercial planes and a few military flights were both in place on the runways and he could see the controllers with their jeep-mounted lights driving slowly down one to guide a Sentry into taxi-ing position. Snow was falling lightly but steadily and more crews were out plowing in the frozen air. Toki spared a final look at the planes before he slowly began to jog towards a hangar only a few hundred meters away. Inside was much warmer and he shed his coat and other winter gear with a sigh of relief. In spite of the short distance and his extra covering, the cold had reddened his nose and the bottoms of his ears. There was coffee waiting but he ignored it in favor of a large glass of orange juice. Thus fortified and awake, he joined the other two men already in the room on the indoor track.
Running – it was the most frequent form of physical exercise he was able to get at the moment and Toki was loath to give it up. His mind never felt as free as it did when he lost himself to the pounding rhythm of his heart and his legs, the steadily pumping bellows of his lungs. It was a treat too, to be able to run and stretch his limbs so freely in the middle of Norway’s winter. Already into his second year in Ørland, Toki still hadn’t quite gotten used to all the changes in his life but he certainly didn’t regret a single one of them.
He had turned 18 in September of 1993 and promptly on the morning of his birth he had removed his letter from its hiding spot under a floorboard. Toki had had precious few belongings and what he chose to wear and gather together into a pitifully small bundle that morning had all been gifts, nothing from his parents. Somehow he had managed to stand impassively in front of his father, his poor excuse for luggage at his feet, while he watched the Reverend read the photocopied letter and scowl before tearing it into pieces. Oslog Wartooth was not about to let his only son slip easily from his hands but Toki had been prepared and there were more copies of the official letter waiting and a plane already chartered and scheduled to pick him up in less than an hour. And the Norwegian Royal Air Force had already received confirmation of his enlistment and they would come and find him if he didn’t appear. Toki was leaving Hastanfjord and there was nothing his father could do to stop him.
Staying any longer in that hushed isolated village would have crushed him, turned him into a pale wraith like his mother or eventually sent him out screaming into the snow to die. It had been expected that he would take the conscientious objector option to his mandatory military service but then he would have ended up never leaving and he had to get out and away, find out who he really was beneath the weight of his father’s harsh words and his mother’s silence. Ørland was almost due north from his home, located along the Atlantic coast. Toki had never seen the sea before, even though Hastanfjord wasn’t too far from Oslo and was, in fact, named for a fjord itself. He’d never been more than three miles at most, ranging that far on infrequent hunting trips, and his flight was the first time he’d ever ridden in a mechanical vehicle. It was obvious that he was naïve and somewhat ignorant about the modern world but Toki couldn’t hide his excitement or his curiosity and the pilot kindly explained many of the controls during the brief hop to Oslo.
When he arrived at the Ørland Main Air Station, he’d easily passed the physical fitness test and some of the written tests and the English exam but he had utterly failed the examinations on history and geography as well as some basic technical questions. The administrator had been mildly appalled until Toki had briefly explained about where he was from. History came from his father’s teachings and he had known that most of it was at the very least shaded by the Reverend’s skewed world view but it turned out that it was largely all false or made up. As for geography, his father had seen little need for his flock to know about the world around them when it was such a dire place and without knowing what was around them, the people would remain close with no desire to wander away. And, seeing as Hastanfjord was almost pre-technological minus its cell phone towers, it was a wonder Toki hadn’t been spooked by the machines surrounding him on every side. To the contrary, he’d been fascinated by all the gadgets and devices and the administrator shrewdly decided where to place the young Mr. Wartooth.
After a month in basic training with his fellow eighteen year old enlistees, where Toki excelled in the physical tests and proved that his aim with a gun was even better than what he had had at home with a sling or the old single-shot rifle, he started specialized classes. With his clever fingers and keen enthusiasm, Toki learned quickly how to run and maintain the communications boards the Station used to coordinate its flights. He was trained as well on some basic helicopter mechanics and like all of the grunts, he took his turn clearing the runways with the plows and doing more routine things like standing for sentry duty and a round of KP duty that was better off never being mentioned. Although he had dreamed of becoming a pilot when the letter informing him of his service requirements had first arrived, Toki had no regrets. As fun as it was to ride in the planes and the helicopters, it was more enjoyable to watch them and marvel at what man had wrought. That was blasphemy, pure and simple, but he didn’t care. There were few things as incredible as watching an enormous chunk of metal take to the air.
Life in Airwing 138 had been good and a year had passed almost before Toki realized it. Then it was September again and his friends in the service had gotten him the first birthday present he’d ever received. Toki talked seldom about his past in Hastanfjord. It was just too weird and hard for other to relate to and sometimes he was met with pity, which he couldn’t stand. But he had spoken once or twice wistfully about his lost guitar and a few times he’d taken a turn on Dag’s acoustic, producing music that had opened more than a few pairs of eyes. He had torn off the wrapping paper and then very nearly embarrassed himself by crying because there had been a used red Gibson Flying V and a small portable amp beneath. Shyly, following his friends’ enthusiastic urgings, he’d plugged in and tuned carefully, fingertips lingering on the finish and caressing the strings. Toki Wartooth had never heard of Eddie Van Halen and he didn’t know a single note of ‘Eruption’ but what exploded from the amp was similar in scope, speed, and power. Raw and unbridled guitar glory and his friends exchanged awed glances and then had to smile because Toki was playing with his eyes closed and the grin on his face stretched from ear to ear.
The peacetime strength of the Norwegian Royal Air Force generally stood at around two thousand. Toki was offered the chance to continue his enlistment and he, unlike many of his friends, opted to take that opportunity. He didn’t have any plans, his thoughts about the future having never gotten further than his escape from Hastanfjord and his parents. Besides, he was good at his job, running and repairing the signal lights on the F-16 runway, and he would never get tired of watching the planes come and go. Too, the Air Force took good care of him; he had warm clothing and shelter and food in abundance and quite the tidy little nest egg socked away. A friendly and good-natured young man despite his upbringing, he made friends easily and his barrack mates adored him for his almost hyper happiness, childish enthusiasm for life, and for his incredible guitar playing. It was enough to forgive him his early morning alarm.
Toki slowed his jog, bringing it down to a fast walk and then a slower one as his pulse rate gradually declined. He preferred to run out in the open air but it was privilege enough to run at all in the winter and he was grateful for the gym. Espen was already through and stretching and Toki held his feet while his fellow airman did his sit-ups before they switched places. Two hundred or so push-ups and several sets of lunges later and Toki considered himself finished. There were some free weights tucked into one corner but he didn’t feel like messing with them that morning. What he wanted next was a cup of coffee, or as his mates called it, a cup of sugar with a smattering of caffeine. The stuff was bitter, though, and sugar was a luxury that delighted his senses and gave him more than enough energy for the day. He made his cup, smiling a bit when Espen laughed and rolled his eyes at the stack of empty sugar packets accumulating next to the coffee, and took a hearty swig.
It was Valentine’s Day, some American holiday that the NATO troops had been buzzing about for the past few days, and there were plans laid for that evening. Toki didn’t know much about love and he certainly didn’t have a girlfriend – women being largely scarce on the airbase except in the form of pinups, pornography, and as the constant topic of conversation – but he could appreciate a good outing. It wasn’t often that he got away from Ørland but tonight he and three of his mates were going into nearby Trondheim to catch a show. Trondheim was the third largest city in Norway and, discounting his very brief jaunt by plane and taxi through Oslo, it was the biggest, most populous place Toki had ever seen. Nearly one thousand years old, Trondheim was the education capitol of Norway and also had a vibrant music scene thanks to the presence of two different music schools. Add in the presence of various foreign nationals thanks to Ørland’s importance to NATO, and it was a very cosmopolitan city. It was a tad intimidating to Toki too, although after receiving his guitar and having to think a bit more about his future, he’d managed to venture into the city twice on his own. Once he’d needed new guitar strings and the other time had been to experience a McDonald’s just to see what all the commercials were about. But this time he would be going to a concert.
Magnus and Ivar had taken him several times to see shows but they were into the jazz scene. Toki had found the experience pleasant enough but there wasn’t enough guitar to really satisfy him. Tonight had been Rune’s idea and they were to see an actual rock band. Radios were common enough on the base, as were cassette and cd players but Toki didn’t own any of these himself. He planned to; it was just a matter of finding the time, the right equipment, and the proper bands. He had high hopes for the evening and it was with a sugar-fueled burst of anticipation that he scrambled back into his coat and outer gear. The sooner he got back to his barracks, the sooner he could wake his mates up and the evening and the concert would be that much closer. Life, Toki decided as he paused in the anteroom to watch a plane take off into the pink light of dawn, was wonderful.
A/N: As usual all the places are real. I do a small amount of research for these babies and yes, Norway DOES have mandatory military service for males at age 18. The details and types of planes at Ørland are true as well. This series is largely routed in the real world at this point in time although more freakishness and surreality will definitely be moving in. XD Toki in the airforce makes me happy and it would explain his plane love, his shooting proficiency and even his adroitness with technology despite the implications that he grew up in an unevolved hell hole.
Anyway I hope this was enjoyable and I believe I'm going to try and get Chuck taken care of next.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-07-13 04:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-13 06:04 pm (UTC)YES! FINALLY!!!
Date: 2007-07-14 07:08 pm (UTC)TOKI TOKI TOKI TOKI TOKI!!!
...
...
...
I should probably read it now.
^_^;
no subject
Date: 2007-07-14 07:54 pm (UTC)I think I might drown in a puddle of my own drool.
Air-force Toki really does explain his love of planes.
All in all, nicely done.
Happy Cat is now Happy.
^_^