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Post by Russia on May 12, 2011 16:07:12 GMT -5
The snow was so cold that it somehow made the T-bar lifts seem even more strange and uncomfortable looking to Ivan. Sitting on a metal bar sounded bad enough, but sitting on a frozen metal bar sounded even worse, despite the several layers of warm, water resistant fabric he was wearing. And he assumed that the bars were meant to be sat on somehow. He didn’t at first see how else they could be used to transport skiers up the ridge. Unless they stood on them?
“They’re easy to use, but we’ll get to that in a second. First we need to get you into your equipment so I can give you a basic rundown before you get up onto the hill.”
Surprised, Ivan gave the Fin an incredulous look. They were going to put their skis on now, before they even got on the lift or made it up the ridge? Being as how he had never done this sort of activity before, Ivan had honestly assumed that they would put their skis on after they made it to the top of the ridge. He turned his sights on the few other Finns that were in the vicinity, noting the fact that they all appeared to be decked out in their gear as they approached the lift. How they could move so effortlessly with those skis on their feet was a mystery to him-one that he had even contemplated before in the Winter War.
Remaining quiet for the time being, he followed Finland over to the small building nearby, and watched as Tino sat on the bench and began undoing his shoe laces. At the other nation’s gesturing for him to follow suit, Ivan set his own ski equipment down before taking a seat by Finland and somewhat reluctantly unfastening his own boots.
Listening to Tino explain how getting ski boots on correctly was really important, Ivan finished removing his first steel-toed boot and set it aside. Working on the other, his eyes widened slightly at the remark about blisters. There will be blisters? He had not caught all of what Fin had been saying about the blisters, so once again he was left with the conclusion that skiers had to all be secretly masochists to put up with the sport. Not that it mattered, the Russian was not the type to balk at the promise of painful blisters. He had endured far worse, and was not about to whine or complain about such minor discomforts.
Smoothing out his own socks, he watched Finland roll up his pants and begin putting the ski boots on. Despite the rather odd appearance of the boots, they seemed easy enough to put on, and Russia wasted no time in following his former foe’s example, rolling his own pants up and then sliding his foot into the boot.
Once he had both feet in the boots and clasped, the Soviet nation looked back to Finland expectantly, adjusting his own pant legs back down and over the boots.
“Alright, now you need to get your skis locked on. Hopefully your boss gave you Alpine skis, or this could get a bit tricky.”
Puzzled, Ivan was about to ask what the difference was between Alpine skis and any other kind, but decided against it for the time being. What did it matter what type of skis his boss had given him? He would learn to adapt regardless. Instead he continued to stare at Tino with a serene smile as the other stood and continued on with his lesson.
“…but if your ski pops off after you fall down on the slope, make sure you put it back on with the ski perpendicular to the run and make sure you put the downhill ski on first. Otherwise, your ski’s going to run off from you and neither one of us wants to see you do a split.”
He didn’t like how Tino made it sound so assured that he was going to fall down the slope. It was as if there was no doubt in the other man's mind that Russia was going to mess up and take a tumble. Ivan did look to his skis though, trying to distinguish the run so that he could put them back on correctly if such a thing happened. He did not want end up doing a split either. The mere thought was enough to make him flinch.
Once Tino had seized their shoes and left, Ivan set to work attempting to do exactly as he had seen his Nordic cabin-mate do with his own ski. He was a surprisingly fast learner when he needed to be, and was able to get the binding locked without too much problem. Doing the same for his other ski, he experimental raised his foot, wondering again how anyone could maneuver so well with the strange footwear. Though he was not particularly clumsy, Ivan was not exactly nimble and well balanced either. Having not had any alcohol in a bit, he was more balanced that he might have otherwise been however.
Feeling very awkward, he foolishly attempted to walk a little in the skis, before quickly deciding that it was not a good idea. Wobbling like a drunk sailor for a moment, he placed both feet firmly in the ground and waited for Tino to return.
“How do you walk in these?” he asked as soon as he caught sight of his ski partner again. “I am amazed your skiers were so effective against my army in the war. How did they move around so well?”
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Post by Finland on May 14, 2011 12:46:54 GMT -5
The snow was so cold that the change in temperature from the locker to the outside was immediately noticeable. Though there was no heat inside the small building, the elements were unable to breach the cinderblock walls, making it just a bit warmer than the surrounding environment. Tino shivered and pulled his ski cap further down to protect his ears before making his way to check on Ivan, hobbling as best as he could given the awkward footwear.
Upon returning, he found that the man had apparently managed to get his skis locked on and now seemed to be testing them. The Finn had emerged from the building just in time to get a quick glance of the Russian taking an experimental step only to scramble to maintain a standing position.
“How do you walk in these?” Tino almost felt sorry for the other. If Russia couldn’t even manage to stay balanced on flat ground, how would he make it down the slope in a manner that actually allowed him to stay on his skis and not on his back or stomach?
Just about to respond, Finland was cut off as Russia continued, “I am amazed your skiers were so effective against my army in the war. How did they move around so well?” Taken aback, the Finn blinked a few times and nearly stumbled. Was that a… compliment? Receiving anything other than a death threat from Russia was always nice, but an actual compliment was practically unheard of. Tino tried to think back to any other compliments he had been given by the Soviet, but all that came to mind were creepy comments with hidden meanings like “Your warm ports are so nice, Finland. They’ll be perfect for my ships!” and “I really love Karelia. It will look wonderful attached to my western side, hm?” But this – this was something new and exotic. An actual kind word!
Unable to fully shake his deer-in-the-headlights look, Tino stuttered, “Ah, w-well I’m sure it’s just natural, given our environment. Finns are born on skis, you know. “ He gave an awkward chuckle as he made his way back to his spot on the bench. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got here,” he said as he knelt down to inspect the Russian’s bindings. He supposed this was dangerous, exposing his face and neck to his longtime enemy who now had large weapons strapped to his feet. He pictured Ivan catching him in the throat with one of the blades, knocking the wind out of him enough to begin whacking at other parts of his body. At least they weren’t going ice skating.
After giving a few investigational prods to the bindings, he stood and nodded. “Good, they’re fine.” Stepping into his own skis with both feet this time and locking them into place, he explained, “We need to get to the lift, so I need to teach you a few things now. First, your ski poles.” He reached for his own as aides to use in his example. “If your poles have straps on them, you’re going to want to put it around your wrist by going through the bottom of the strap.” He demonstrated by reaching his left hand up through the strap of one pole. “If you reach through from the top, the strap can get wrapped around your thumb and you’ll end up snapping it if you fall.” Tino considered this. Would there be an earthquake at some small Russian peninsula if Ivan broke his thumb? It seemed likely.
Focus, Finland scolded himself. If he let his mind wander too much, Russia might seize the opportunity and come at him.
Once Ivan had gotten hold of his poles properly, he continued, “You don’t really need poles to ski until you become more advanced, but they’re going to help you push yourself across flat ground. Now, walking.” With both of his ski poles around his wrists, he stepped away from the awning of the locker and into the snow. “You don’t pick up your feet to walk. It’s more like skating – just slide one foot in front of the other.” Moving his right foot across the snow, he watched Ivan’s face to make sure he understood the demonstration. “You plant your poles to push you along and give you momentum. That’s really all there is to it. Okay? So, let’s get up on the lift.” With that, Tino set off. He slowed his pace just a little to give the Russian time to adjust to the strange way of moving, but he didn’t pause for the other, sure that he could at least handle this much. This would be the easiest part of the lesson, and if Ivan couldn’t even walk in skis, the outlook on the rest of the day would be dismal. Potentially hilarious, but dismal nonetheless.
The terminal of the lift was only a few paces from the locker. Now mid-morning, there were several other skiers beginning to show up. Taking his place at the end of the queue, Tino turned back to Ivan, motioning to the lift. “Now you can see how the lift works,” he said as he gestured to a pair of skiers getting ready to board the lift. “The shorter skier puts the horizontal bar behind his bottom, so in our case it’s going to hit you somewhere on the upper part of your thigh. The vertical bar is for leverage. You want to make sure you don’t have your poles planted when the lift hits you and you want your skis to be parallel to one another and pointed straight up the slope. The lift does the rest of the work and pulls you up.” Tino knew that it was quite a bit of information to take in at once, so as he slid his goggles down over his eyes, he gave a polite, “Understand?”
____________________ FFFF Sorry for the wall of text again. It’s hard to give ski lessons when you’ve never actually skied before. :’D
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Post by Russia on May 15, 2011 0:37:28 GMT -5
The snow was so cold that Ivan did not even notice that he had given a compliment with his words. It was hard to think things over carefully with the distracting wind chill on his face and the frustration of the skis still fresh on the mind. Had he not been distracted, he might have been far more careful to avoid complimenting his enemy.
He stared at Finland as the other claimed that Finns were born on skis. He knew not to take the idea literally, but couldn’t help the comical image of small babies on skis that quickly came to mind. The violet-eyed nation looked down as his cabin-mate knelt down to examine his ski boots. The urge to kick up and catch Finland in the throat was almost overpowering. The smaller nation was in such a vulnerable position, and he could so easily cause him severe pain. But then, he would be left trying to figure out how to ski on his own, which dissuaded the violent urge. After giving the boots a few prods, Tino was standing again and out of the perfect throat-slicing position.
The Russian watched carefully as Finland mentioned ski poles and started to explain how to hold them. He was honestly starting to think he might like skiing. So many ways he could use the equipment as weapons if the need arose. The concerns he had initially had about having to leave his beloved pipe and revolver behind were starting to vanish as he examined his own ski poles. If someone pissed him off, he surely had the means to make a human-or nation- shish kebab.
“If you reach through from the top, the strap can get wrapped around your thumb and you’ll end up snapping it if you fall.”
Having at first reached through from the top out of instinct, Ivan re-adjusted his grip on the poles to avoid any finger breaks. Not that he would fall of course, but better to be safe in this case. It would be embarrassing to take a tumble, but it would be ten times worse to break a limb, no matter how small.
“You don’t really need poles to ski until you become more advanced, but they’re going to help you push yourself across flat ground. Now, walking.”
I won’t need them until I am advanced? Still convinced that the poles were to be used to poke and smack at other skiers who got too close, Ivan puzzled over the idea. Did advanced skiers not have to worry as much about people getting too close? Or was it because they were so good at that point that they could swerve around them with ease? Deciding the former had to be the case, he focused once more on the lesson. He should have figured that it would be like ice skating when it came to moving. The words gave the flaxen haired Russian hope. He could ice skate, so surely he would be able to move about in skis. Experimentally he slid forward, stabbing a pole into the ground and using it to help push forward a bit.
Ivan watched Finland head for the lift for a second before quickly following. It was strange to move with the skis, but much easier than before now that he was treating them more like skates. As awkward as they were, he managed to keep up with the Nordic. Joining Tino in the queue, The curious Soviet studied the other skiers.
“Now you can see how the lift works.”
Studying the pair of skiers that Finland was pointing to, Ivan listened to his instructions about the lift. “So we don’t sit on it?” He asked suddenly. The startled Soviet looked at the metal contraption in a new light as he absorbed all the information. “We just stand there and it pushes us up along the ground?” It was a far cry from the lifts he had seen.
Pair by pair, the curious Russian watched as the other skiers used the lift and the queue shortened. Finally he and Fin were at the lead of the queue, and he stared at the metal contraption with some sort of growing doubt. Reaching out, he touched the steel bar for a moment, giving it a slight wiggle to test its strength. If they were not to sit on it, he was wondering how they were supposed to refrain from falling back over it when it connected with their legs. Granted, it wasn’t going to hit him behind the knees, but he was still a bit concerned. Masking the emotion, he stood in front of the bar and waited for any further instruction from his former foe. He only hoped Finland was not the type who wanted to purposely mislead him just for the fun of making him mess up.
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Post by Finland on May 17, 2011 13:34:51 GMT -5
The snow was so cold that Tino’s joints had frozen up waiting in queue. By the time he and Ivan were at the head of the line, it took an uncomfortable snap to get his knees to bend. Even with thermals, it was a very cold morning. Still, he didn’t remember feeling the effects of the cold this strongly during the Winter War. Could it be that his human body was wearing out? Was that even possible? True, he only looked to be nineteen or twenty, but he had looked that way for nearly thirty years now. He’d have to ask one of the other nations if they ever experienced anything like this. Not Ivan. He’d surely see it as an opportunity to go for the Finn’s knees or ankles. Showing any weakness was not acceptable.
As another pair boarded the lift and they stepped closer, he heard Ivan ask, “So we don’t sit on it? We just stand there and it pushes us up along the ground?”
“That’s the idea of it, yeah,” the Finn replied. “It’s not going to be moving really quickly, but it’s not going to stop moving, so just make sure you’re ready for it.”
After just a few more minutes of waiting, Tino and Ivan were first in the queue. The Finn stepped out into the lift’s path, motioning for Ivan to follow. There was a slight tug as the bar connected with his bottom and he watched from the corner of his eye to make sure that Ivan was in a proper position. He waited in anticipation for a moment, wondering if the bar would snap against the bastion that was Russia as it started to pull. Of course, this didn’t happen and their skis began to glide over the tightly packed snow. He continued to keep a wary watch over his novice partner as he reached over to grip the vertical bar for balance, making sure not to accidentally brush the Soviet’s hand. He could feel Russia returning the glance, possibly looking for further instruction, and he shifted his gaze away from the other man.
There was nothing to explain at the moment so the Finn took the opportunity to observe the scenery once more. The trees began to thin out as they ascended the hill. There were deep grooves in the snow under the lift where traffic was the heaviest. Here, the fluffy, powdery mounds of snow had been packed down to a more ice-like consistency with high moguls on each side. Even tinged brown with mud, the snow retained its sugary, crystalline glint. From behind his goggles, Finland could see that the sky, while still very blue, had a few wispy clouds streaking it now. Perhaps by tonight there would be fresh snowfall.
As they reached a level area, Tino announced, “We’re getting off here. This is a green piste – it’s flat and it’ll be easy to teach you here. Hurry and get out of the lift’s path so you don’t bump into the people coming up behind us.” Planting his poles, he gave a few quick pushes and slid quickly towards the top of the slope, turning to stop and wait as the Russian caught up.
“Alright,” he continued once Ivan was beside him. “Your first real lesson. I’m going to teach you to do a straight run and a snowplough stop. The most important thing to remember is your position.” Turning so that Ivan could see the front of his skis, he turned his toes inward a bit. “You want to make a slight V shape with your skis. The more parallel you have them, the faster you’re going to go. Now, your stance…” The Finn bent his knees a little, leaning forward with his poles planted to keep his balance during the demonstration. “Your chest should be more or less directly over your toes. You should be carrying your weight in the balls of your feet.” Turning back to the lip of the slope, he explained, “Stopping is the same idea. To slow down, make a wide angle with your skis and shift your weight a little to the inner part of your feet.” He demonstrated the technique, sliding his heels away from each other to create a more obtuse wedge.
Lining his skis back up, he said, “Just watch me first,” and pushed off, sliding down the gentle grade and executing a textbook stop. Turning to look up at Ivan, he asked, “Easy, right? Now you do it.”
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Post by Russia on May 20, 2011 1:48:23 GMT -5
The snow was so cold that it numbed Ivan’s horror at the idea of the lift continuing to move even if he somehow tripped and fell over the bar. The lift didn’t sound at all safe with that in mind. If some poor inexperienced skier was to fall, he would be smashed by the skiers behind him. Maybe that was why Tino had mentioned taking this lift… Sure he had claimed the seating lift was further away, but perhaps he just wanted the opportunity to see Ivan fall and get ran over by any other Finns that happened to be behind them.
Cold violet eyes focused on Finland with a creepy sort of consistency. If that was indeed the case, then he would just have to ruin Tino’s plans by not falling. Finland’s gaze met his momentarily as the bar swept them forward. It wasn’t exactly a comfortable feeling to be shoved against by the hard metal, but at least it had caught him in the upper thigh and not behind his knees. Russia was quick to grab the vertical bar for balance, not used to the sensation of being pushed along in such a manner.
Tino was looking away from him now, and Ivan followed his example and stared out at the alpine landscape. Since the Finn was quiet, he assumed there must not have been anything more than needed explaining at the moment. Which made sense, how complex and involved could riding a lift be? And the other nation could not start explaining the skiing until they actually got to wherever it was on the ridge that they needed to be. So for now he could relax a bit and take in more of the frosty surroundings.
“We’re getting off here. This is a green piste – it’s flat and it’ll be easy to teach you here. Hurry and get out of the lift’s path so you don’t bump into the people coming up behind us.”
Ivan drew his gaze to Finland again, who was hurriedly getting off the lift. Stumbling to get off the lift quickly, the Russian was about to ask why they called it a “green piste” when it was covered in snow. Looking at the pale ground, he didn’t see any green poking through anywhere. Maybe a little brown from the mud here and there, but that was about it. Hurrying out of people’s way, he decided against asking for the time being though.
“Your first real lesson. I’m going to teach you to do a straight run and a snowplough stop. The most important thing to remember is your position.”
The awkward Russian gave Finland his undivided attention as he moved alongside him. Watching Tino make a “v” shape with his skies, Ivan followed suit quickly. Stabbing his poles into the ice, the eager Soviet then attempted to doctor his stance to match Finland’s instructions. Chest over toes…He leaned forward, feeling silly the whole time. He was not sure if he was carrying his weight in the balls of his feet or not, but he decided it would be best to assume that he was.
“Just watch me first."
Silently, Ivan watched Finland slide down the small slope and then stop just as he had demonstrated beforehand. It looked easy enough. He could handle something like that. His eyes shifted down to stare at his skies for a moment before he used his poles to slide off.
Using his skies just as Tino had instructed, he slide down and came to a somewhat sloppy stop besides the Finn. Re-adjusting his weight, he teetered a bit, but gave Finland a confident smile. “That wasn’t so bad.” If the rest of the lessons went so well, he was sure he would be skiing like a professional in no time. “This isn’t so hard at all. Is this all there is to skiing, Tino?” He studied the other nation cheerfully. He had not gone far though, and only hoped that all aspects of skiing would be so simple as that little slide.
“When do we get to ski all the way down the mountain, like they do in those movies?” He asked innocently, referencing the epic chase scenes he was used to seeing in foreign films. They usually involved the skier being chased downhill by avalanches, so he only hoped that those were not common occurrences here in Finland. As much confidence as he was starting to get, he was not stupid enough to think he could out-ski an avalanche. He doubted many people could off the silver screen could.
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Post by Finland on May 24, 2011 1:09:09 GMT -5
The snow was so cold that Tino’s goggles had already started to fog up. Pushing them up on his forehead, allowing them to cool, he watched as the Russian glided down the hill. Though perhaps ‘gliding’ was not exactly the proper word to describe the action. It was not horrible, but Ivan’s inexperience showed, naturally. His skis had wobbled as he tried to stop and Tino had worried for a moment that they would cross. Fortunately, the Russian remained mostly upright.
“That wasn’t so bad. This isn’t so hard at all. Is this all there is to skiing, Tino?”
“Oh, no,” the Finn half laughed. “Going a few meters straight down a bunny slope is hardly all there is to skiing.” If it wasn’t so bizarre, almost vulgar to think of his mortal enemy as such, Ivan’s naïveté almost made him cute. Tino shuddered and perished the thought; those were dangerous waters. He continued, “There’s no way I could teach you in one day everything there is to know.”
“When do we get to ski all the way down the mountain, like they do in those movies?”
At last, Tino couldn’t fight back a laugh any longer. He attempted to keep his composure, but all that resulted was a strange snorting sound followed by a chuckle. Finland supposed it didn’t matter anymore, anyway – there was no way Russia could catch him to beat him up now that he had his skis on. Hopefully the Soviet wouldn’t devise a javelin out of his ski poles and decide to harpoon the Finn.
“Oh, give me about five years and I’m sure we could have you skiing black slopes and doing jumps and all sorts of things. You might want to ask America if he’ll give you a Hollywood tour, though; skiing with green screens and fake snow might be much simpler for you.” Shaking his head a bit, Tino slid his eye protection back into place. “I promise, though,” the Finn began, “you’ll get to at least see a black slope before we stop today.” Already, being stuck going so slowly down these gentle slopes was making Tino more and more anxious to get onto the real ones, to race the wind to the bottom of the mountain, to feel every bump and dip in the snow with his skis… But there was work to be done first.
Nodding towards the lift they had ridden up just minutes earlier, the Nordic explained, “We need to get back to the top of the slope,” before exemplifying his words and walking towards the lift, regularly planting his poles for balance. After he’d managed to get himself and Ivan back onto and then back off of the lift and to the lip of the slope, he continued with his lesson.
“This time I’m going to show you how to get up after a fall. I know it seems like common sense, but it’s harder than you might think.” Pushing off from the edge, Tino slid about halfway to the bottom before suddenly pitching backwards and landing on his back, his legs down the slope from him. He allowed his poles to drop into the snow beside him. “First of all, you need to get your skis perpendicular to the slope so you don’t slide forward when you stand up. It's a lot easier to stand up over the side of your skis than it is the back.” Rolling onto his side so that he now sat with his head towards Ivan and his feet down the slope, one foot just slightly further downhill than the other, he continued, “You need to crouch down as close as you can towards your skis, push yourself up into a crouching position over them, and then stand.” Demonstrating as he went along, he rolled into a crouching position over his skis and slowly stood, brushing the snow from his outer pants and jacket.
After picking up his ski poles, Tino made his way back to the lift, continuing to call up to the man above him. “I want you to take a few practice runs before I teach you anything else just to get the feel of it. If you fall, you can practice standing. Oh, and I didn’t show you what to do if you get your skis crossed when you fall, but it’s not so hard to figure out. I’ll explain that if it happens.”
Once he’d sidled up beside Ivan, Tino motioned to the slope, giving Ivan the go-ahead to begin his practice.
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Post by Russia on May 28, 2011 2:14:20 GMT -5
The snow was so cold that Ivan’s eyes felt as though they were frozen solid as he studied the Finn in front of him expectantly. He had forgotten that he even had goggles on his head, since he was so used to only using goggles for things like flying planes and jets. He couldn’t fathom why they would need them for skiing. Unless they were to protect the skiers’ eyes from rival skiers who might jab at them with those poles? He and Finland had yet to see such violent displays on the slopes from any other skiers, but that was probably just because they were fairly secluded in their current area.
He had been a been concerned by the fact that Finland had insisted that there was far more to skiing. He didn’t see how that could be possible. Wasn’t the objective to just ski down a slope and then you were done? But skiers did seem to move around strangely from what he could recall from those foreign films he had seen, so the Finn was probably right about there being a lot more to learn. He wouldn’t have time to master all of it over the weekend.
The other nation chuckled at his remark about skiing like in the movies, and Ivan gave him a curious stare. It had seemed like a perfectly reasonable question to him. Apparently, Finland loved having a laugh at his expense though, and Russia had to resist the urge to frown and attempt to kick the Finn with one of his skis. The Russian gave a slight huff of annoyance at the remark about skiing in front of a green screen. He didn’t need that. He was sure that he could handle anything Finland threw at him ski-wise. He was too prideful still to think there might be something that Finland could do better than him.
“I promise, though, you’ll get to at least see a black slope before we stop today.”
Ivan blinked in surprise. All the slopes were covered in snow, how could any of them be black? Taking the man literally-as he was all too often faulted to do- Ivan imagined the Finns as coating one slope with a black tarp or something equally as odd. Or maybe they dyed the snow in places? Why they would do such a silly thing was beyond him, but maybe they had their reasons for it. Maybe it was to mark said slope as advanced? He had never seen such a thing before, and was now very curious about it.
Keeping his thoughts to himself, Ivan followed Finland back to the lift to continue on up the slope. Stabbing the poles into the snow with unnecessary force at times, he mimicked Finland’s actions mildly. The skis still felt strange and bulky, and Ivan only hoped that the feeling would go away after wearing them a bit longer.
Following Finland off the lift once more, the Russian observed his surroundings as the other man stated the next part of the lesson. So far, no sign of any “black” slopes anywhere within sight. Maybe they were on the other side of the ridge? Ivan turned his gaze back to Finland again, wondering why he would need to learn to get back up when he did not plan on falling down. Keeping his silence, his violet eyes shone with a sort of amusement as he watched Tino slide a bit and then fall backwards. It would have been more amusing though if he had known the other was not merely falling on purpose for the lesson. Watching Tino take a tumble after claiming to have experience in the field would have been far more comical and entertaining.
“First of all, you need to get your skis perpendicular to the slope so you don’t slide forward when you stand up. It's a lot easier to stand up over the side of your skis than it is the back.”
That made sense, and despite his plans to not slip up and fall, Ivan watched and listened carefully as his former foe went through the process. He wouldn’t make a fool of himself on the off chance that he did slip up and need to get back on his feet.
Then the Finnish nation telling him that he wanted him to try a few practice runs. “Very well, Comrade.” He agreed, surveying the slope as Tino gave a gesture towards it. Leaving Tino’s side, the Russian shoved himself forward with the poles, sliding down the slope just as he had before. There must have been mechanics to the sport he had yet to learn, because his slide was far less balanced and picturesque than what he would have liked. He was a novice, and it showed in his hesitant movements and shaky balance on the skis. The snow was very fine and powdery though, which helped move him along quickly.
After two successful-if not awkward- slides, Ivan had a pleased smirk on his pale features. Convinced he would master the activity yet, he used the lift to get back up to his starting point and made another attempt. This time, he had shoved forward with the poles a bit too quickly, and found himself sliding down much faster and more unbalanced than before. In an attempt to slow down, the Russian finagled his skis as though to stop, only to lose his balance and fall backwards and into the icy snow with a sharp intake of breath.
None too pleased that his plans to not fall had been ruined, the large blonde struggled to recall and follow Finland’s instructions for stopping. Making his skis perpendicular to the slope, Ivan managed to stop his embarrassing back slide, and crouched as instructed to get back to a standing position. Brushing the alabaster snow off himself, he couldn’t help but mutter a few Russian swears darkly under his breath as he started back for the lift.
Making it back to Finland once more, he plastered his usual serene façade on despite the humiliating slip-up. Hopefully, Finland wouldn’t have even noticed. “So… what’s next? Or should I go a few more times?”
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Post by Finland on May 31, 2011 19:51:30 GMT -5
The snow was so cold that what little bit of perspiration Tino had worked up felt like it was freezing to his skin already. He shivered and shuffled a bit in his skis to keep his muscles from becoming stiff. Ever since Ivan’s “Very well, Comrade,” the Finn had been watching as the Soviet made his way to the bottom of the slope and then back to the lift to repeat the cycle. For the first two runs, the man seemed to have the technique down pretty well. He was keeping his legs a bit too stiff to go over the bumps in the piste properly and he would occasionally lean too far forward or too far backwards, but for the most part Tino considered the trial runs successful for an amateur.
That is until Russia attempted his third practice run. From the get go, Tino could tell this trial was going to be botched. Ivan had pushed off much too hard with his poles rather than leaning forward and letting gravity pull him down the slope, and therefore was travelling much too quickly. Finland watched as the other nation’s skis wobbled and began to run out in front of him until he finally collapsed into the snow with a thud. A faintly sadistic grin spread across the Finn’s face as Ivan scrambled to stop himself. Watching Russia fail – what a nice way to start the morning! Tino had to admit, though as much as it pained him to do so, that the other learned quickly. He’d gotten back onto his feet rather effectively without slipping further down the mountain.
Tino waited as Ivan shook the snow from his clothes and returned to the top of the piste. He couldn’t help but notice the way Ivan’s normally cheerful expression wavered for just a few moments before asking, “So… what’s next? Or should I go a few more times?”
Giving a few shakes of his head, Finland responded, “No, you seem to have this down. You did pretty well, just don’t get overconfident or you’ll keep falling. I’m going to teach you how to do simple turns now.” Getting back into position at the top of the slope, he continued, “You start off in the snowplough position just like before.” Pointing the forward tips of his skis inward and leaning over them, just as earlier, Tino reiterated the position. “Say you want to make a left turn. You’re going to slide your right ski, the outside one, just a little more downhill than your left ski and you’re going to shift your weight over the outside of that leg. It’s pretty simple, really. Just look at the direction the tip of your ski’s pointing and that’s the way you’re going to turn when you put your weight on that ski. Remember to keep your weight forward or you’re going to fall over backwards again. Don’t forget to keep the V-shape with your skis, either, or you’ll start plummeting.” Really, he didn’t care if Ivan did it wrong. That previous slip up had been quite entertaining. He just hoped Russia wouldn’t create an avalanche with that massive bulk hitting the ground after a fall.
He moved his feet back into a starting position and said, “Alright, just like last time, I’m going to show you how it’s done.” With that, he leaned forward, first pushing his left ski to the outside to make a right turn and then shifting his right ski to make a left turn. Even doing these simple maneuvers felt nice. It wasn’t the professional type of skiing he was used to by any means, but it was better than slowly drifting downhill like he’d done before. For a moment, his mind turned to daydreams of famous skiers such as Heikki Hasu and Jari Puikkonen. He wished he could currently be doing what they did, watching the pure snow slip quickly under his feet and cutting the air with the blades of his skis in a round of Nordic combined. I bet they never trained a Soviet, he mused a bit bitterly.
Turning to stop at the bottom and looking up past the S-shaped track he'd left in the snow, he called to Ivan, “You know the drill.”
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Post by Russia on Jun 2, 2011 20:36:23 GMT -5
The snow was so cold that it left the tall blonde shifting slightly in some vain attempt to warm up. Finland shook his head at his question, and stated that he was going to teach simple turns next. Ivan beamed with pride a bit at the remark that he had done pretty well, despite the fall. He convinced himself that he was surely a natural at this sport. In no time at all he was naively certain that he would be able to even out-ski Finland himself.
With a smug sort of expression, he watched Finland get back into the original pose he had shown him. Listening intently, the Russian stared down at Finland’s skis as the other man explained turns. On the surface, it sounded a bit complicated. But then again, that was the way it was with many things in his experience. Some things had a way of sounding overly complex when they were not nearly so tricky in practice.
“Remember to keep your weight forward or you’re going to fall over backwards again. Don’t forget to keep the V-shape with your skis, either, or you’ll start plummeting.”
Ivan did not want to find himself falling backwards again, so he decided to be sure and keep his weight forward this time around. Keep the V-shape…. His gaze shifted from Finland’s feet to his own and he made the V-shape experimentally again with his skis. He could do that. Also not wanting to find himself plummeting out of control, so he was dead-set on following the advice as closely as he could this time. “Ah, I’ve got it then.” he informed his ski-instructor jovially. Not that he expected his former enemy to care if he understood or not. As far as he knew, Finland would surely love the chance to watch him make a fool of himself again. The smaller blonde probably had been disappointed that he had not messed up more with that last fall. Ivan knew that he personally would have loved to see Finland make horrible mistakes, and still was hoping against all odds that the Nordic would mess up at some point in the lesson.
]color=steelblue]“Alright, just like last time, I’m going to show you how it’s done.”[/color]
The Finn adjusted his stance again, and Russia silently followed suit, even though he was only to observe right now. Tino pushed off, and the Ivan watched him closely as he made his turns, the other man’s skis slicing through the fine powdery snow and leaving marks. The actions were more complex than just sliding downhill, but they didn’t seem too professional. He could handle it, so long as he remembered which foot to start out on and use for a turn. And so long as he could maintain his balance.
A noise nearby distracted Ivan, and he turned his sights away from Tino momentarily to watch as a trio of other skiers made their way down the slope as well. They were also moving very similarly to Finland, and leaving the same curved tracks in the snow.
“You know the drill.”
His eyes immediately moved away from the happy group of people speaking rapid-fire Finnish as they skied, and went back to looking down at Tino. With only a brief nod of acknowledgment at the other nation’s words, Russia steadied himself and pushed off down the slope. Left turn means slid the right ski further downhill, right? It seemed that Tino had said to use the opposite ski for each turn. Hoping that he had remembered correctly, the large Russian slid his right ski forward a bit more than the other as he attempted to execute the turn. The unfamiliar movements made him wobble a bit on his skis, and he instantly leaned forward again to correct his posture.
Luckily the trees were off to the sides, or the less-than-skilled Soviet would have surely crashed right into one. He found that his turns were not nearly as graceful as Finland’s had been, and he had turned too far out. Balance was harder to keep as well with the turning and he kept having to struggle to keep from slipping out of control. As he attempted to make his next turn however, things went terribly wrong. Despite his attention to detail when watching Finland, his skis ended up positioned wrong. Instead of a stealthy turn, the brawny blonde ended up somehow getting his skis crossed. Unable to keep his balance anymore, he slid forward the rest of the short distance down the slope, landing in a thick drift of snow not far from his former enemy.
Dazed, the Russian sat up and shook some of the snow from his hair before staring down at the crossed skis with a distasteful frown.
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Post by Finland on Jun 7, 2011 14:42:46 GMT -5
The snow was so cold that even Tino felt the chill as he watched Ivan slam down into it. The Finn cringed a bit as he watched the other slide until he reached the bottom of the slope, coming to a rest just near his feet.
“You crossed your skis,” Tino scolded, shaking his head with a small smirk plastered on his lips. “Happens to everyone. Are you,” he paused for a moment, noting that these words felt foreign and awkward when directed towards Ivan and questioning himself as to why he’d even ask such a thing, and then continued, “…alright?”
‘Are you alright?’ Why would I even ask that? Now he probably thinks I’m mocking him or something!
So that he didn’t appear to actually care if the Russian was alright or not, he shook his head quickly and added, “I mean, I’m sure you’re alright. No one gets hurt falling down a green piste.” Kneeling down so that he had a better view of the other’s skis, he studied the man’s position for a moment before saying, “Alright, get up. It’s pretty flat here, but you’ll still need to turn onto your side like before so you don’t slip downhill when you try to stand. Just in case, hei? I don’t want to have to go chasing you through the forest if you can’t stop.” Tino found himself very uncomfortable being in such close proximity to Ivan and the various potential weapons the man had in his possession, and so he stood and backed up a few paces.
After Russia managed to get onto his side, Finland continued, “You need to uncross your skis. Since your ski that you need to put downhill is under your uphill ski, you’ll need to spread your legs apart like you’re, ah, jumping a hurdle, or something, and then bend your uphill leg up towards your chest.” Tino hoped the explanation was clear enough. Uncrossing skis was not a difficult task, but it was hard to explain without demonstration and Tino was not comfortable getting his legs so tangled up that he wouldn’t be able to run if Ivan suddenly proved that his inability to ski was a ruse and attacked the Finn while he was down. He'd motioned to each of the Soviet's legs as he referred to them, but he had no intention of actually touching the man to help him up.
Eventually, the Russian got his position close enough to what the smaller nation was looking for and Finland continued, “Right, now move your leg further away from you downhill and stand up like before.” The Nordic felt a certain sense of pride over his teaching abilities. Perhaps he should give up his life as a nation and soldier and become a skiing instructor? If only…
Tino waited for a few moments to make sure Russia could stand and hadn’t hurt himself before beginning to trudge back towards the lift. “You messed up,” he explained. “I can’t let you move on until you do it right. So? Let’s do this.”
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Post by Russia on Jun 10, 2011 19:19:56 GMT -5
The snow was so cold, that Ivan felt as though he had been submerged in ice water as he dusted himself off. He had not been laying in the snow long, but he still felt far chillier than he had in a long time. What was with this day being so beautiful and so strangely cold? Maybe it was his economic problems that were allowing the snow to bother him more than usual. The overly aggressive Russian had been feeling rather sick for the last few years, and it only seemed to be getting worse as time went on. Real nations could handle the chill though, he reminded himself sternly, smiling again in spite of the bone numbing cold.
“You crossed your skis.”
The Russian sighed, his violet eyes remaining fixed on the offending skis as he considered how to go about uncrossing them. Shifting his gaze to look up at Tino, he go the distinct urge to grab the smaller man and throttle the life out of him for smiling about the whole thing. He figured that Tino would have enjoyed watching such a once-bitter enemy make an ass of himself at one of his personal favorite sports. At least, he assumed Finland loved skiing. He knew his people sure appeared to.
“Happens to everyone. Are you…alright?”
Ivan stared in silent confusion at the question for a moment. He was honestly not sure as to whether or not the Finn was mocking him, or was just asking the question out of habit. It seemed a bizarre thing for someone like Tino to say to him of all nations, so he decided that it must have been a mockery. Instantly, he searched the other nation’s expression for that smart-ass grin that people tended to get when mocking, only to be even more puzzled when he did not see it.
“I mean, I’m sure you’re alright. No one gets hurt falling down a green piste.”
At least the other man didn’t feign concern. That would have been the ultimate mockery, and had that been the case, Ivan was sure he would have had to punch Tino first chance he got. He had been insulted enough for one day, and was not at all thrilled with the other nation's presence, despite the fact that he relied on Finland for ski lessons.
Apparently, the Finn could sense his discontentment, and Ivan watched as the smaller blonde went from kneeling to standing up and backing away. With more room to move, Ivan struggled to get back up to his feet properly and avoid sliding out of control again. His side was a bit sore from the slip up, and the Soviet really was not happy with having to worm around on his side to get back up. But anything to keep from falling again could only be good.
“You need to uncross your skis. Since your ski that you need to put downhill is under your uphill ski, you’ll need to spread your legs apart like you’re, ah, jumping a hurdle, or something, and then bend your uphill leg up towards your chest.”
Wobbling a bit, Ivan looked down at his feet. These instructions made him feel so very ridiculous. Not being a master of perfect balance, he was slow to try and assume a “hurdle jumping” pose. After managing to get in a workable position he followed the rest of the instruction and bent his leg up towards his chest.
“Right, now move your leg further away from you downhill and stand up like before.”
Following the instruction, the Russian was rewarded by his skis coming uncrossed. Pleased to have that bit of unpleasantness over with, he stood still for a moment, allowing himself to adjust and catch his balance all the way. Inquisitive violet eyes fixed once more on Finland.
“You messed up. I can’t let you move on until you do it right. So? Let’s do this.”
“I didn’t mess up… I just lost my balance.” Russia huffed, annoyed by Finn’s statement despite its truth. “Finns may be born on skis, but I can assure you that Russians are not. I am sure that I won’t slip up or lose my balance again though.” Perfectly ready to try again, he followed Finland without any complaints.
Having made it to the top of the slope again, he followed the earlier directions and pushed off to try the turns again. This time, he was careful to follow the directions he had been given as closely as possible, not wanting to take another slip and end up back in a drift of frigid snow. Though still less graceful and practiced as Finland had been, he did manage to execute the turns correctly this time, and returned to Finland with a smug satisfaction.
"Why do they call it a "green piste" when I don’t see any greenery?" Ivan asked curiously. Having never heard of slopes being referred to as "green" or "black" he decided it was best to just ask. "Do skiers refer to all slopes by different color names?"
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Post by Finland on Jun 14, 2011 9:21:04 GMT -5
The snow was so cold that Tino couldn’t stop the little shivers that took over his body, just barely noticeable through his several layers of clothing. He wasn’t able to move enough to warm himself because of having to stand and wait for Ivan to practice. He was sure that by the time he got to the black slope that all of his body fluids will have frozen into a block of ice. He wondered if he could coax Ivan into giving him a gentle push to get him going down the slope once his blood froze so solidly that he became a human ice sculpture. …No, probably not.
“I didn’t mess up… I just lost my balance.”
The little Nordic rolled his eyes, hoping they were well enough hidden behind the reflective, tinted plastic of his goggles for Ivan not to notice. Of course the other was going to object to being called a failure. For that matter, the man would claim to have “just lost his balance” even if he tumbled head over heels from the top to the bottom of the longest slope at Levi.
“Finns may be born on skis, but I can assure you that Russians are not.”
Obviously.
“I am sure that I won’t slip up or lose my balance again though.”
“Is that so?” Tino asked, smirking at Russia’s almost naïve promise. “Well, we’ll see.”
The two returned to the lip of the slope and Finland watched as Russia completed a much better run. It was sloppy and there were times when it seemed his knees might give out, but he did manage to stay on his feet. Of course, Tino would never acknowledge that the man might be improving. Especially not to the other’s face.
At least Ivan hadn’t called him out on the fact that Tino just moments ago had seemed to imply that there was no way for the Soviet to improve. Instead, he presented the Finn with a rather odd question.
“Why do they call it a “green piste” when I don’t see any greenery? Do skiers refer to all slopes by different color names?”
“Ah, n-no, it has nothing to do with the flora,” Tino responded, finding the Russian’s assumptions to, once again, be almost cutely oblivious. “It has to do with the difficulty of the slope. Green is the easiest, then blue, red and black are increasingly harder. Think of it as like…” his voice trailed off for a moment as he pondered, his eyes rolling up to stare at some point in the sky, before he continued, “Oh, okay! You know how calling someone ‘green’ is like calling them inexperienced? Well they start on the green slopes. And the black slopes, well… Ah! I know! If you fall on a black slope, you’re more likely to die! So black, death, etcetera.” He gave a satisfied nod, happy with his far-from-expert explanation. In his mind, it all sounded perfectly fine. The way the normal happiness in his voice had remained as he gave his grim explanation probably made him sound a bit unstable, but he didn’t notice it himself.
“Anyway, speaking of slope difficulty, I’m ready to take you to a blue slope now. There’s not really anything else I can teach you at these speeds.” Without so much as asking if the man felt ready enough to move on, Tino led him to the lift once again and boarded alongside the Soviet. As he rode along in silence, save for humming his anthem every once in awhile because he knew it probably annoyed the other, he pulled back his sleeve enough to check his watch: 11:30. He hadn’t realized that it was so late in the day already. However, when he thought back it made sense. This time of year in Lapland, the sun rose around 8 AM, and since they’d left just after sunrise it had to have been 8:30. They spent quite a long time walking and they’d stopped at the locker room near the queue for a few minutes. After the Finn totaled it all up, it was probably close to 10:00 before they even got started at the slope.
“It’s going to be dark before we even get to the black slope,” Tino thought aloud, his voice bordering on sounding disappointed. He’d been too lost in his own thoughts to notice that he’d been talking to himself. As the sound of his own voice sunk in, he jerked a bit in surprise and stammered, “Ah, s-sorry! Just, ah… just thinking aloud.”
Great, now he probably thinks I’m a crazy as he is.
____________________ I felt like I was writing a lot with this one but getting nowhere, so you're free to get them to the next slope![/size]
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Post by Russia on Jun 16, 2011 17:17:51 GMT -5
The snow was so cold that it almost distracted the Russian to the point of not hearing Finland's words.
“Ah, n-no, it has nothing to do with the flora.”
Ivan stared at the Finn in confusion. He had figured as much of course. It would make no sense after all to attempt and ski down a grassy, plant-rich slope. Curious, he listened to the Finnish nation explain the fact that slopes were color coded as a means of describing their difficulty. That idea made much more sense to him, and the Finnish people suddenly seemed much more sane in his mind. In a way it was a relief that the slope color names had nothing to do with their actual appearance. It would have been startling to encounter a slope covered in tar or something.
“Anyway, speaking of slope difficulty, I’m ready to take you to a blue slope now. There’s not really anything else I can teach you at these speeds.”
Ivan followed Tino quietly at first, wondering how much different a blue slope would be compared to the one they were just on. Before he had known anything about the sport, he had always assumed that once you knew how to ski, all slopes would be pretty much the same. Sure, some were bound to have more trees and stuff to swerve around, but he had imagined that the difficulty levels would stop at that. Maybe as the difficulty went up the slopes themselves got steeper and had more obstacles to avoid? He would find out sure enough, so he decided against asking Finland if that was the case.
Boarding the lift alongside his former enemy, the Russian stared out at the snowy landscape again. The sun was full in the sky by this point, casting a cheery light across their pristine surroundings. The air was so crisp and fresh, that Ivan could almost relax a bit and forget he was in the company of what he thought of as an enemy nation. Then, the sounds of Tino starting to hum caught his attention, and he frowned a bit in annoyance at his choice in tunes. Of course he could recognize the other nation’s anthem, having heard it before many times. It never ceased to bug him though, and he got the distinct impression that the Finn was purposely trying to piss him off. The urge to punch the Finn in the side of the head was almost overwhelming as he turned his sights to his lift partner.
“It’s going to be dark before we even get to the black slope.”
The Russian stared at Tino for a moment, trying to figure out if he had been talking to him. The other man’s quickness to explain that he was thinking aloud ended his puzzlement, and he studied the Finn with amusement instead. He supposed he couldn’t blame Tino for talking to himself. It was probably better than talking to an enemy by far. Ivan saw no shame in it, having spent a good many times talking to himself as well. The best thing about the act was that the self so very rarely argued back. Sure, there had been times when he had had the occasional argument with himself, but those incidents were not as common as they once were. Mostly they had happened when he had been under a ton of stress and forced to deal with his own people. The days of the Revolution had been particularly disorienting, and he had done the most talking to himself and inanimate objects then.
The Soviet’s violet eyes remained fixed on Finland, as he waited to see if he was going to argue with or continue to talk to himself. If so, he didn’t want to interrupt. Listening to Finland talk to himself promised to be interesting if nothing else. But Finland was silent after his statement about thinking aloud. “There is nothing wrong with talking to yourself, Tino. I do that too sometimes.” Ivan informed the other nation.
“They should call the hardest slopes “red” then I think.” The Russian suddenly stated merrily. “When I think death and a force to be feared and respected, I think the color red. Don’t you Tino?” The Soviet smirked at his blonde companion.
As soon as they arrived to the area he was assuming they needed to be, he followed Finland off the lift. Instantly his eyes traveled down the slope, taking in details and trying to piece together what would make that slope more difficult than the last. Already, he could see that the grade seemed to be steeper than before. The area also seemed to be more heavily trafficked, and there were ski marks all through the fine powdery snow, indicating that more people traveled on these slopes than the green one they had just been on.
Ready to try his luck on the slightly steeper blue slope, the Russian pulled his goggles back over his eyes. If there were more people skiing here, he would need them protected. It was hard to tell when someone would ski too close and lash out with the ski sticks in an attempt to take his eyes out.
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Post by Finland on Jun 17, 2011 18:03:34 GMT -5
The snow was so cold that if there had been a freezer around, Tino surely would have crawled into it to warm up. Being out in the wintery air for the past several hours on top of the fact that this harsh cold front was actually taking place in his body was leaving the little Finn shivering like his brother’s Latvian neighbor as he ascended the mountain further. The only thing that kept him from going completely numb from hypothermia was the feeling of Ivan’s eyes boring holes into the side of his head. What the hell is he staring at me like that for?![/color]
“There is nothing wrong with talking to yourself, Tino. I do that too sometimes.”
Tino let out a little groan. Oh, gee, that makes me feel better. Just what I wanted – to have my sanity compared to Russia’s. It was true that Finland had not always been completely mentally stable. There had been that brief period just after gaining independence that he’d suffered from schizophrenia and had had more than one night of standing in front of a mirror screaming at his reflection, which he not-so-lovingly referred to as Punakaarti.
Almost as if on cue, he heard Ivan state, “They should call the hardest slopes “red” then I think. When I think death and a force to be feared and respected, I think the color red. Don’t you Tino?” It was Tino’s turn to stare this time. His eyes widened and brows rose behind the visor of his goggles, mouth slacking a bit. Okay, that was really weird. Can Ivan read my thoughts or something? Tino decided to test this theory, finding the coincidence of Ivan stating in a passive-aggressive manner something about the color red just as he had been thinking about the Red Guard to be too great to ignore. Staring intently at Ivan, Tino put all his energy into focusing a thought towards him.
Russia, if you can hear my thoughts, give me a signal.
No signal ever came. The Russian just kept smiling with that creepy trademark grin of his. Of course Ivan couldn’t read thoughts. Tino looked away from the Soviet, rolling his eyes. He had been silly to even think such a thing. There was no way Russia had the mental capacity for telepathy. Realizing that Ivan had been referring to the Soviet Union and not the Punakaarti, the whole thing became a lot less mystical.
“Only if there’s a gold lion and white roses included with that red, Ivan,” he replied tauntingly, shifting his skis as they began to slide away from the tracks left by the others riding the lift.
In time, they made it to the top of the new piste. Finland was happy to see that there were far more people here, or more specifically, far more Finns. The rolled, staccato sounds of his beautiful language filled the air just as the colorless snow had the night before. Yes, it was nice to be surrounded by his own people. He hoped Ivan felt uncomfortable here.
Of course, having more people around meant that it would make speaking Shaykomay more difficult. It wasn’t unusual for there to be tourists of all nationalities in Levi, however, so hopefully they would be able to blend in without issue.
“Okay, then,” Tino began once again. “As you can see, this slope is a bit more steep than the last one and a great deal longer. This means you’re really going to have to work on your balance and your ability to stop. There are also more people here, so when—er, if you fall, you’re going to need to get out of the way as soon as possible.”
Giving his frozen joints an almost painful stretch, Tino positioned himself at the lip of the slope. “Now, when skiing in a straight line, you’re going to keep the same snowplough shape with your skis that I showed you before. Just try to keep it a little more acute so you can build up your speed.” To reiterate, he moved his skis into a narrow V shape. "I want to teach you how to do a new kind of stop called a hockey stop. This is going to be a lot more effective than the snowplough stop like I showed you before because there will be a lot more resistance, so be aware that you’re going to stop a lot more quickly this way. Alright, so the reason they call it a hockey stop is because it’s how hockey players stop on the ice.”
Tino paused. Did Russia know any more about hockey than he did about skiing? At the very least, he’d surely ice skated before. The Nordic knew that Russians were famous for their ice dancing at the Olympics. A little thought played across his mind. There was a theatre filled with nicely-dressed spectators. It was dark, the glow of the ice rink just barely visible. Suddenly, a spotlight illuminated a single dancer on the ice, the red and gold sequins of his costume twinkling in the light as the “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” began to play (Tino knew very little about ice ballet so the song was the only one he could think of off the top of his head.) In Tino’s mind, Ivan was oddly graceful for such seemingly lumbering oaf, floating gently around the ice, bowing and twirling on his skates until the final note of the song when the audience stood, applauding and tossing roses.
The Finn gave a small shudder, this time not from the cold, and bade his mind to stop thinking such bizarre thoughts that had nothing to do with hockey or skiing.
Back to the lesson.
“Er, that means that you’re going to turn your body sideways while keeping your skis parallel. The rest is just physics; you’ll build up resistance and stop. For this one, you’re going to need to be slowed down a bit already before you attempt to stop, else your skis will catch in the snow and you’ll pitch forward. Don’t forget to turn your head to face forward over your skis, either.”
Pushing off from the slope, he demonstrated what he’d like the Russian to do. He kept his skis almost parallel to each other, building up great speed until he reached the bottom of the slope where it began to level off a bit. This was much better than the green piste by far! This run was actually enjoyable. Reaching the end, Tino turned his knees sideways and leaned back, bringing his skis perpendicular to the slope so that they caught on the snow. Satisfied, he turned to face up the slope, slipping his goggles up to rest on his ski-cap-covered forehead. With the slope being much longer than the last, he was unable to call to Russia clearly from here. Instead, he waved, motioning for the other to follow.
____________________ Historical bits! The Red Guard [Punakaarti] were a faction during the Finnish Civil War that would have had the Finns become Communist. Their enemies [and obviously the winners] were the White Guard [Suojeluskunta]. There are still tensions over the Civil War today, and so Tino is not able to fully shake his split personality. I honestly don't know if the Russians were already well-known for their ice routines by this point. I'm assuming so. :'D
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Post by Russia on Jun 25, 2011 15:24:01 GMT -5
The snow was so cold that it would have surely even made General Winter shiver in his boots.
The expression on Tino’s face after his comment had been priceless. That look, had made the entire trip suddenly worth it. Wide-eyed and mouth slackened, the Finnish nation had appeared a funny mixture of shocked and horrified. It was a combination that Ivan would have been thrilled to see more back in the war times. With a slight chuckle, Ivan had turned his gaze away to examine the landscape again as the other nation had silently stared at him.
“Only if there’s a gold lion and white roses included with that red, Ivan.”
The comment had made Ivan's smile falter. A golden lion and white roses? That wouldn’t be any fun at all. Leave it to Tino to take his own passive-aggressive remark and turn it around on him. Not that seeing markers for a formerly designated “black” slope as suddenly switching to red with a lion and white roses wouldn’t be strange in an almost humorous way. Ivan had to wonder what Finland’s people would suddenly think of such a switch.
Staring down the slope and through the tint of his goggles, Ivan couldn’t help but give an annoyed glance off to the side every now and then at the sounds of chattering Finns. The language just bothered him. Not because it was an ugly sounding tongue, but because it reminded him way too much of Finland himself and the less than stellar aspects of the Winter War. There were just too many of them too. The sadistic blonde was suddenly filled with fantasies of pulling out a Kalashnikov and clearing the slope. It was just as well that he couldn’t though, he realized. So many bodies in the snow would surely present a greater obstacle to ski around, especially since a number of the Finns were downslope of him. There was surely no harm in simply imagining such things however, and for a moment he contentedly stared down the slope, fantasizing how the blanched snow would look dyed red with Finnish blood.
“…this slope is a bit more steep than the last one and a great deal longer. This means you’re really going to have to work on your balance and your ability to stop. There are also more people here, so when—er, if you fall, you’re going to need to get out of the way as soon as possible.”
Ivan looked to his side sharply, distracted from his less than sane thoughts as he realized that Finland was talking again. The Soviet narrowed his eyes in annoyance as Finland was quick to assume that he would fall again. Tino tried to correct himself, but Ivan had caught the initial implications and was none too happy about it. He wasn’t pleased with the idea of being skied over by Finns either if he did take a tumble, and suddenly found himself feeling far more violent about the whole idea. Making a mental note to stab at any Finn that ran over him if he did fall, the stocky blonde listened to further instructions.
The next bit of instruction made sense to him, even though he was not overly familiar with hockey. He knew that hockey was played on ice skates, and ice skating was not a foreign concept to him. Despite his size, Ivan was decent on ice skates. Not in the same league as the professional ice skaters that he was somewhat famous for, but he wasn’t bad by any means. It was proving to be far easier for him to keep his balance on skates than it was skis in fact.
Finland was quiet for a moment, and Ivan studied him curiously, waiting to see if that was all he had to say. The other nation visibly shuddered, and Russia was quick to come to the conclusion that the cold had frozen his thoughts for a moment there.
“…Don’t forget to turn your head to face forward over your skis, either.”
If it really was anything like the maneuver done on ice skates, he was certain that he could handle it. All the same, his eyes were glued to Tino as the other nation pushed off to showcase the move. Silently willing the Finn to mess up and give him something to laugh at, Ivan sighed when Tino made it to the bottom and executed the stop perfectly. The violet-eyed Russian stared down for a moment while the other signaled him to follow. He couldn’t very well pretend the skis were ice skates… that would end in disaster since they were longer and more bulky.
The weary Soviet pushed off from the slope hesitantly, his mind racing over all that he had learned so far about the sport. Keeping his skis passably parallel, the tall nation built up more speed than he was comfortable with. The turns slowed him down a bit, and by the time he reached the area that Fin had started to slide into the stop, he was ready to try it as well. Leaning back with his skis perpendicular to the slope, he came to an almost abrupt stop, his skis sending a fine mist of the powdery snow up in front of him. Not used to the action at all, he stumbled a bit to get his footing again, but somehow avoided falling on his ass by Tino. At least he had remembered to turn his head as instructed.
“Why does there have to be so many different instructions and techniques to this sport?” He of course knew the answer himself right after he had asked it. Or at least, he suspected that he knew the answer. What fun would a simpler sport be? How much fun could it be for anyone to just slide down a slope and not do anything else? Though it would be far simpler for him to get a grasp on if there were less intricacies involved, it would no doubt make skiing duller. Even though he struggled with them, things like the turns did have a way of making the motion downhill more fun. Not that the falling part was fun at all…but he had to admit to himself that the rest wasn’t so bad. Just maybe, this little ski trip might actually be somewhat fun once he had gotten the hang of it better. In his mind it would be more fun if he was with someone who wasn’t a former enemy of his, but that was probably asking too much.
“How was that for a stop?” He questioned Tino curiously, hoping the other would at least note that he had not fallen this time. “At least I didn’t slip up this time, yes?” Hopeful violet eyes searched the other nation’s expression carefully. ______________________ ((Sorry I couldn't give you much to work with this time. I was strapped for time and didn't want to end up accidentally powerplaying Finland.))
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