Porridge Party

Sonja has Matti doped up on vodka, and is doing gruesome looking things to his face. It's for his own /good/. Apparently. She managed to find a new use for nail scissors anyway, for which Matti will doubtless be eternally grateful.

Niko opens his eyes and sits up. He scratches at his beard and rises from his cot. "Damn, it's cold," the small man mutters. "Hopefully The Neighbor is colder than we are…" A glance over at Sonja working on Matti. "And hopefully Ivan lacks even the most basic medical tools." He picks up his rifle and slings it behind a shoulder before heading over to the stove to set water to boil. "Oatmeal, anyone?" he asks.

Matti stirs while Sonja stitches the cut over his cheek and forehead, only moving a little bit - he's doped up on ether, so while his eyelids flutter, he isn't coming out of the mists of lethe yet.

Sonja appears to have lost her fear of blood, at any rate. Or… maybe not, her hands are shaking a bit, but fortunately Matti can't see that. His eye is near that nail scissors after all. "Uh… alright. And maybe some of that tea I saw someone bring in?"

"I'll make some tea once the water's boiled," Niko says. He turns around to watch Sonja work. "You should have seen him. Charged a tank with a molotov in hand and got shot up pretty bad. He's damned lucky he's alive. Afterwards, he continued to fight." He shakes his head. "With madmen like these, maybe we might actually win this war after all."

Vesa is sitting on a crate over to the side. Half an ear on the conversation, he's reading the little notebook that Pentti gave him last night, handwritten Cyrillic covering the pages.

Matti would offer his general dose of scornful pessimism to Niko - but unfortunately, he's happily unconscious, his breathing deep and regular. Happily, he misses the pseudo-compliment; he's not known for being able to deal with those.

Well, the cut on his face must have been a grazing hit in effect, just a stitching job rather than spooning his brains back in, and it had evidently been treated well by Saimi before Sonja even got to look at it. "Soviets must be using fake bullets then… either that or God even watches over the godless. I suppose Matti is a good man though on balance." she mutters as she draws a thread through his flesh.

The man with tea, and not the free kind, skiis in towards the cabin. Pentti coughs a bit from inahling a bit too much fresh, cold air. He stops outside the cabin and waits a few moments to cool off before swinging the door open and heading inside.

Niko shrugs as he watches Sonja stitch Matti up. He seems fascinated by the needlework, lost in the minutiae of the wound. "How soon do you think he'll be back on his feet?" Niko asks. "Do you think the head wound may have altered his personality any? I would wager a bag of salmiakki that he's surlier from the experience, rather than grateful to be alive." The small man smirks.

"It's only a cut, and it didn't hit him full on." Sonja points out. "The thinking part is up here." she points out, tapping Matti's unwounded forehead. "So I'm afraid he'll be the same as ever." she says with a small grin as she puts the last stitch in. It's not particularly good stitchwork, Sonja is an extreme amateur after all.

Pentti eyes the amateur and the man who'll end up with cool scars. "So if I shoot Erkki in the head, chances are we'll get a new and improved Erkki boy?" He eyes his SMG as he sits down by the table, "How many bullets do you think it would take?"

"There must be a ball-peen hammer or something around here somewhere to crack that eggshell of his," Niko says. He feigns looking around for one for a moment, then says, "Water's boiling." He fills a large bowl with crushed oats and pours the hot water over it to make a porridge.

Matti stirs, mumbling in his drug-induced stupor. Happily oblivious that people are busy talking smack about him. He actually seems pretty well, decent colour on his face, the leg almost healed, and the bandages removed from his hand and chest. Maybe Matti has been shot so many times by now, that his body is starting to heal faster? Evolution in progress.

Sonja glances over Pentti. "Depends if 'dead' is an improvement." she says, with an expression that suggests it very well may be so. "I don't know, I'm a nurse, not a neurosurgeon.". She wipes the blood off her hands onto a cloth, very hygienic, and puts the scissors and thread bag in her father's bag.

Niko spoons some oatmeal for himself and sits down to eat it.

Pentti shrugs at Sonja's bloodlust, instead turning his attention to the promise of porridge instead, digging up some salt from one of his pockets to mix into it, he's not a total barbarian.

Vesa looks up from the notebook, and over at Matti, raising his eyebrows at the stitching. He closes the book over his fingers, reaching up and scratching the back of his head.

Sonja leaves Matti to sleep off the oldest drug, and heads over to the stove, to poke at the porridge Niko made. Well, more like gruel, really. "There any sugar?" she wonders. She'll need that for the tea after all…

Niko shrugs. "I didn't check," he says. The small ugly man seems content with eating his "gruel," (he didn't even put salt in it) smacking his lips noisily. He even has a bit stuck in his beard.

"I don't think so, Miss Sonja," Vesa replies. He closes the notebook and puts it down so he can stand up and stretch out a bit.

Sonja ughs, and wonders if this is punishment from On High, to be stuck in a cabin, sans tea, sugar, milk, or decent company. She sighs, and mutters a quick prayer, before finding a bowl and spooning some glop into it.

Topi makes his way in from the outside, looking around for a few moments as he steps through the door.

Pentti doesn't waste much time eating his oatmeal, even after making it a luxury meal with some salt. If he has any sugar he isn't telling, Sonja doesn't even have any tea to go with it yet.

"There's porridge to be had, Topi," Niko says, stifling a belch. He goes to dish himself a tiny bit more, then sits down to eat his seconds. From looking at him, it's a wonder Niko doesn't gain any weight. Then again, he probably hasn't been eating a lot lately.

Vesa heads for the kitchen to see what this fabled porridge looks like. Looks better than air. He pulls down a cup or bowl, whichever happens to be handy, and spoons a half serving in before heading to the table.

Sonja munches on the gruel, not that theres much in it that needs munching, and then heads over to the pile of tinned tomatoes, wondering if she can stomach yet more Red Army toms.

Matti grunts, moving a little. The effects of the ether seem to be at least slightly wearing off, as he's lapsing more into a natural sleep.

"Say anything interesting?" Pentti looks over to Vesa after finishing off his meal, "The book there you got?"

Vesa shakes his head as he starts eating. "Just a soldier, like you said. From Nizhniy Novgorod. He'd been out here for three weeks when he stopped writing. The pages weren't all dated. Talked a lot about the fighting. About the Finns."

Sonja ohs at that. "What does he say about us?" she wonders, curious.

"He won't write anymore" Pentti mumbles, "And no entry for sure since six days ago."

"I'll make sure to get that next time." Isak responds as he closes the door behind him. With a bundle of firewood under his arm, he moves over toward the stove and drops it off before stomping a bit of snow from his boots and wandering toward the table where everyone sat with their porridge. "There any left?"

Topi shrugs a little as he looks back to the others, "Not hungry," he offers, a bit quietly. He then looks between the others for the moment, with a bit of a shrug.

Vesa looks at Sonja for a moment, dragging his spoon through the porridge. "I don't really think you want to know, Miss Sonja. Wasn't very, um…nice." He looks at Pentti and nods, shrugging one shoulder. "Too bad there wasn't anything useful."

Sonja ohs. "Well… whats wrong with us?" she wonders. She shrugs. "Probably not very easy to love your enemy when your enemy is shooting you and your friends." she admits, and goes back to her gruel.

Pentti starts digging around for cigarettes, but he doesn't have any and soon give up. "Useful? What do you mean 'useful'?"

"Anything much about how the other fighting was going," Vesa says to Pentti. "From the way wrote I don't even think he really knew." He looks back at Sonja and smiles wryly. "Yeah, guess not. Complained more about the cold than us though."

"Boys. Boys, far away from home." Matti mutters this thickly, his eyes still closed; from the grimace on his face, the pain is starting to hit him, now that the ether is gone.

Pentti shrugs at Vesa, "They run towards us, when enough of them have been killed, they run back. Sometimes they repeat at once, sometimes it takes a little longer. I don't need to read any secret papers to figure out their tactics and plans."

"Didn't mean about tactics," Vesa says, scraping up another spoonful of porridge. "Just what was still standing and what wasn't. But it doesn't matter, he didn't say much like that." He's about the eat the spoonful when Matti speaks, and he turns his head to look over that way.

Sonja doesn't have much to add to this, as she's not actually even really seen a Russian here yet, except when running from them. And actually… she always ran before she got to see them.

Isak hears Matti's rumblings, but considering the lowered tone he does the best he can to ignore the man. It was a habit he'd need to develop, for sure. He got himself a bowl of the porridge and sat down on the table, listening to mention of some sort of writer and shrugs his shoulders. Never had much time for books anyway. Instead, he turns to Sonja, "Still here?"

Sonja glances up at Isak. "Where else would I be?" she wonders, with a slight frown. "Maybe in Pyyvaara." she replies to her own question, pondering a sauna-trip presumably.

"Why you people keep all the food so far away from the trenches we're supposed to sit in?" Pentti wonders after a while, "Can't you just move a cabin down there, I heard you people had a sled and all."

Luukas is managing to limp with the aid of a crutch, now, holding his coat closed at the front as he manages to keep the front door open with his shoulder as he returns inside from a trip to the back.

"'You people?'" Niko says with a grunt. "I just work here. I leave the thinking to others. That way when things go sour, it isn't my fault." Finished eating, he sets his bowl down and leans back in his chair.

Isak nods toward the rows of cots behind him. "Keep it close to the wounded." Apparently an answer of sorts for Pentti. Turning to Sonja, he simply grins. "Mmhmm" he grunts, spooning a bit of the gruel into his mouth. "Besides, I figure the boy would be aching for room to run."

"It's a bit cold out there for Henrik now. He can barely walk you know." Sonja points out. "And its dangerous with the Soviets around.". She looks over Luukas when she sees him moving around. "You are back on your feet then?".

Vesa finishes the last bit of porridge, leaving the bowl close to his arm. He twists his shoulders a little as Sonja talks to someone past him, grinning at seeing Luukas up. "All the praying worked, looks like."

Luukas smiles for a moment to Vesa, "Well, leg's getting better now. Can walk with a stick as a crutch." He heads over towards the warmth of the fire.

"I bet the cold makes your leg ache something terrible," Niko says. He holds up his hands. "Does that to me."

Matti stirs in bed, opening his eyes a little bit, squining into the light from the fire. Slowly, very slowly, he sits up, cradling his head in his hands. "My head…" His leg is still bandaged, but seems to be almost healed.

Vesa smiles back at Luukas, then looks over at Matti as he sits up. "Least it's still on your neck, Matti. You want something to eat?"

"Ugh. No, I feel like throwing up. Whatever the nurse gave me, knocked me out." Kind of like date rape drops. Soooooooooooonja? Matti slowly pats his stitched face, as if trying to see whether it's still attached. After a moment, he drops his hands and looks around himself with bleary, red eyes, apparently satisfied with his inspection.

Niko slings his rifle over a shoulder and looks at Vesa. "We work well together," the small man says. "Let's stick together until a Russian grenade rips us apart, eh?"

Vesa grins a bit at Niko, standing and pulling his rifle strap over his head. "Sounds like the best plan I've heard." He stops to pick up a grenade.

Luukas casts a look back outside. "They look like they're getting ready for something." There's a sigh as he sits down in a wooden chair, stretching out the bandaged leg and setting aside the stick used as a cane. "Going to be a long battle, I guess."

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