Octavius was walking down the street, tearing bullet riddled articles of clothing, leaving nothing but his smallclothes and a black armband embroidered with “RIP Forever-Comrade Peter”. He passed SlimRagnarok with a nod, and approached Natasha and TonyTheTailor. He had the look of a man who had yet to sleep, for it was true. The sounds of gunfire and swearing from the FBN agents kept him wide awake. Luckily he was able to keep a steady dose of cocaine to keep him focused. He spoke to Natasha and TonyTheTailor in a thick Russian accent. 
 

“Federal Bureau of Narcotics? More like Fucking Bitch Network amirite, comrades?”

He handed Natasha a slip of paper with a list of attempts on his life. Not that he really even knew the names of the agents trying to murder him. 
 

“I will be awaiting delivery of my Ushanka shortly. I’m off to find some clothes.”

Milk, after hearing Octavius, comes out of the local watering hole with his fresh glass of 2% 

We lost a good Don this morning, but this is the risk we take entering the gulag.  Most of us came out the other side alive but we have to pay respects to our fallen comrade.  

Milk hands Octavious a new suit, albeit a shitty one.

Congratulations, comrade.  You survived 7 shots and are officially one of us.  

Milk doesn't even know if he is a true comrade because he has yet to have been knighted by Comrade Natasha 

He tosses his glass into the street and hugs Octavius.  

Regardless of how one feels about this endeavor, it's certainly entertaining. Definitely an interesting way of testing your fortitude and perhaps how lucky you really are. Either that or it just goes to show how our entire police force across the nation is under our control, considering the majority of them apparently can't hit a barn wall standing 10 feet away.

I mean, really! If they're willing to disregard who actually gives them their paychecks and take pop-shots at those directly sponsoring them, you'd think they'd have taken at least a single class of shooting lessons. I mean, they're expected to patrol the streets at night for other lowly criminals, you'd think they'd actually be able to enforce anything they stand by.

Put perhaps that's our doing, and maybe for the better; if they actually could hit their fucking shots, we'd be in some trouble. There's also no reason to keep paying them off otherwise then.

Like all guaranteed risks though, Peter unfortunately got served the shorthand of the stick. Just his luck the one cop who he happened to run by on his beat decided to go target shooting the other day. At least perhaps he can rest knowing that piece of shit is certainly no longer with us...and judging from the conversations held earlier today, his kin was well-compensated.

A rite of passage, perhaps? One could say someone had to go first; it just came down to who it was actually going to be. Could also be interpreted as a show of force; now, arguably, the rest of y'all are not to be trifled with. At least by the Philadelphia police force, that is.

Natasha listened to PlagueDoctor give his own two cents on the "controversial" testing of your fortitude by entering the gulag. She knew this wasn't for everyone but she did not care. She only cared about her closest comrades. Natasha stepped forward to make an announcement...

"Comrades and comrades to be, I come before you to mention a rumor I heard. I heard that someone entered the gulag a second time. Perhaps that person will come forward and admit to this. All I have to say is they have huge balls. Maybe not so much brain though as surviving the gulag twice, is probably unlikely. In the even this comrade succeeds and survives the gulag a second time, an announcement will be made on their status and their new ushanka."

She takes a breath to collect her thoughts... she was extremely why someone would want to enter the gulag again after they survived it once before. Along with that, the gulag has taken two lives recently... it really isn't meant for every comrade.

"A tier status ushanka, much like a prestige level may be presented to the unlikely survivor of the gulag to commend their willingness to be comrade tested not once, but twice. Their dedication is second to none. Thank you all for your kind support in supporting the gulag."

If anything, if multiple people decide to take the risk and pursue the gulag multiple times, you might have to create a whole tier system for those who have survived their first endeavor and those who have survived multiple.

Assuming this compatriot survives the second round, others may follow suit. Perhaps they might even attempt the gulags for a third time!

After that point though, anyone who walks out of those doors after surviving all those bullets, let alone doing it a third time, certainly deserves a nod of respect. If the FBN can’t take them down, then the rest of us should be in safer hands.

Knowing that any agents who do succeed in killing any of them, as unlikely as that is, don’t last much longer themselves, helps relieve such tragedies anyway. No price goes unpaid.

it’s funny you say that Plaguedoctor
 

Comrades, it is I… Liam bloody Gallagher, reporting from the other side of the madness once again. A man enters the gulag once and survives, they call him lucky. A man enters twice and survives… well, that makes him the hardest bastard walking the streets from New York to Philly.

Fourteen attempts on my life so far,  scarves, bottles, clerks with shaky hands, whatever else the FBN could dig out of the bargain bin and yet here I stand….. bruised, loud, and still demanding I get sent two Ushankas for becoming the first in mob and comrade history to complete the gulag double. I’ll wear one on me head and the other at a jaunty angle just to remind the world that New York now has its own one man faction of comrades.

To TonyTheTailor, Natasha, and every comrade who’s  dodged a shot  or spilled whiskey in the name of this ridiculous… glorious program CHEERS, comrades. Raise your glasses high. And if you run out of vodka or whiskey, use Milk. I hear it works just fine.

Comrade Antonov Tailorski adjusts his ushanka, squinting at the absolute madness unfolding before him.

Liam… @Liam Gallagher… you absolute lunatic.

Most men walk into the Gulag once, survive, and immediately swear off ever doing it again.

You treat the Gulag like it is a Macy’s.

Fourteen shots fired and you still strolled out looking like you had just popped to the shops for a paper. At this point you are not a Comrade… you are a geological feature. Immovable. Eternal. The FBN should list you as a national landmark.

Let me also raise a glass to our beloved Nonrade PlagueDoctor, possibly the only civilian on record who has spoken about the Gulag without calling us insane. A man wise enough to understand that Comrade behaviour is not meant to be understood, only admired from a respectful distance. His continued commentary has been deeply appreciated by the Party.

Slava Comrades.

OdinProtsent stayed seated while the room reacted to LiamGallagher 's announcement. Liam stood there talking about completing the gulag twice, with that Queens, New York tone everyone recognized. The others cheered right away.

Queens was the place Peter once called home before following TonyTheTailor to South Philly. Odin kept that in mind. His father didn’t survive the gulag. His grandfather didn’t either. Those facts stayed with him no matter what anyone said.

Around him, the Comrades were making jokes at his expense, the usual kind they throw around during celebrations:

“Odin, watch him closely. That’s how you finish the job.”
“Your line is due for one win eventually.”
“Someone make sure Odin doesn’t wander off when it’s his turn.”

He didn’t react to any of it. He just listened and kept his thoughts to himself. Natasha lifted her drink. Milk was already pouring another. TonyTheTailor called Liam’s name louder than anyone. The whole group looked ready to celebrate the rest of the night. When the noise lowered a bit, Odin finally stood. Everyone looked over. He looked at Liam and said,

“Congrats, Liam. You earned it.”

Then he sat back down. The others continued celebrating.

milk stumbles away from the bar after hearing his name.  he didn't have his normal 2% in hand but, instead, a bottle of tequila.

"LiamGallagher" he shouts

"You are an absolute madman.  No comrade has survived the gulag twice..."

"One of us, has lost the gulag twice" milk coughs and muffles OdinProtsent under his breath

Just so you know, I have asked comrade Natasha to crown you with a special ushanka to commemorate this special occasion.

For anyone else that would like to be a comrade, I believe the next gulag will be in 6 days.  Put your names in the ushanka now if you would like to be considered for comrade-ship.  Except you FatTony, you will never be a comrade.  

as milk finishes his speech and downs the rest of his tequila, he shoves FatTony into the accordion player and stumbles back to the bar. 

Now, I’m not an officially licensed comrade, but I think I’m allowed to point out absolutely nobody within the Comrade Program should be picking on let alone insulting OdinProtsent let alone any of his kin. His family died so that the program could continue, and honestly, I think he took the bullets meant perhaps for more valuable targets.

As the saying goes, third time is the charm. Odin is certainly in a prime opportunity to succeed his kind and score a victory in the gulags when they decide time is right. Knowing one is continuously well compensated should any rogue FBN agents score a lucky shot, it’s not like anything is really lost in the end. Everything we earn here can be regained just as easily anyway.

It’s not insanity. It’s freedom!

Natasha entered the streets, noticing a couple more Associate Comrades make it through the gulag. She was still wondering when the next of kin to Peter and Pops would be to finally make it through the grueling test. She did not want to pressure OdinProtsent, as he knew what was expected of him. Not by herself, but by his forefathers. 

"Comrades, associate Comrades, and non-comrades, I come before you today to notify you that last night's lottery win by MrKrabs is a win for the program. Even though MrKrabs is not a comrade, he has pledged a great amount of money to the program. He is a very generous and kind non-comrade. Perhaps with knowing this, there will be more that enter the program. Perhaps there may be more comrades that become a higher level tiered, comrade. Who knows... but thank you for your generosity MrKrabs."

She leaves the streets with her Slavic looking henchmen. 

Not one to be shown up, especially by a satellite Comrade, Nikolai decided it was time to run the Gulag again. He straightened his Ushanka, took a large gulp of vodka and approached Comrades TonyTheTailor and Natasha. He locked eyes with fellow Comrades Milk and Megan with a look of pride. He looked over to OdinProtsent and smirked. 
 

“Watch and learn, young one.” 
 

He turned back to the true Comrades and handed TonyTheTailor a blood covered slip of paper. The slip read:

Seeing her fellow comrade Octavius and prospect OdinProtsent both enter Gulag, Megan suddenly got the feeling she couldn’t let them fight the FBN alone. Alongside she really wanted to move up a rank and become a two-star-comrade.

Within minutes she made up her mind and calmly walked up to TonyTheTailor and Natasha and said; 

“Comrades, I’m getting my second star”.

A gunshot was all that followed and FBN Officer Boyer dropped to the ground, a red circle of blood slowly appearing underneath.

It’s on, yet again.

Milk stumbles out of the ally covered in blood, in his new suit, with a bottle of tequila in his hand.

Comrades and nonrades, I have just emerged from the gulag for the third time.  I patiently wait for some of Philly's finest to try and gun me down.  Once I survive and be the first to earn their third ushanka, there will be a celebration like the streets have never seen.

Milk takes a massive swig from his bottle

now I go into hiding for the next 24 hours.  Come at me coppers

milk spits, takes another big swig, lights up a smoke and disappears as quickly as he appeared 

Milk stumbles out of the shadows with the same bottle of tequila he left with

Comrades, I have survived the gulag for the third time after getting my new slanty suit.  I had to do it to set an example for all of the potential comrades in our ranks.

Never give up.  never surrender and never be like OdinProtsent and get 1% two times in a row. 

Milk mutters something about Octavious that sounds like congratulations but takes a swig and stumbles back into the alley.

​​​​​​​

Tussyy slowly wanders into the fray, a blood stained coat and several holes in his coat indicating his recent whereabouts. He hadn't long heard of the benefits surviving the Gulag would offer, but Philadelphia has a habit of giving him cold ears. He was sick of it....

'Dasvidaniya! I heard through reliable sources that bringing proof of execution gets me an Ushanka to protect my sensitivities?'

He lights up a cigarette and throws a Stetson into the crowd with a bullet hole straight through its center. Despite the defect, the name Muntean can be ready on the brim. This wasn't his first rodeo, but he was even less impressed and normal with the need for a new coat.

Havana had been watching with interest all this time. Seeing the ears been covered with warm fur time and time again. She was patient though as she worked that night shift and congratulated each new comrade that came along but she was sick of the cold and oh boy did it get cold on the night shift.

She heard about yet another person following in the steps of becoming a comrade and she wasn't going to let another day go by before taking the jump to be the newest Comrade to come along. She bugged at @tony, then poked him with a foot if he fell asleep while she blabbered on about her being next until octavius was told to give this crazy mona a name.

She looked at it, glee filling her eyes and she ran off, ready to obey. She searched around Philly, she knew exactly where as those fat bastards weren't hard to find. She didn't even have to wait long until her eyes were set on the FBN Agent and she walked up to him with a little pep in her step as he left the diner. She gave him the sweetest smile. She knew she did have a lovely one and she pressed the gun to his belly and pulled the trigger.

"Bye bye!" She called as the body made a thud as it fell and she giggled, turning off into an alley.

She didn't get far until she butted up on an Agent, her eyes going wide before she loosed a cackle and took off. A bullet flew by and she ducked off into another alley. Heart pumping into her ears and eyes wide with glee. She would lay low for a bit now.