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       #Post#: 109--------------------------------------------------
       Nikolai (Side RP#3)
       By: Gav Date: September 3, 2018, 9:39 pm
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       The battle was done. All had come to a screeching halt, nothing
       more to say - nothing more to do. The Collective was, in the
       end, victorious without loss - they had made away with greater
       weaponry, and if all went well then they wouldn't even be the
       ones to take blame. The other organization, one that had
       appeared as if from thin air and offered them aid, had caused a
       massive ruckus and they benefited from it. Any consequences of
       this remained unseen, and for the time being? They could simply
       relax and lay low - they meaning everyone EXCEPT for Nikolai,
       who could never seem to really unwind. It was always a struggle
       - always a movement to advance and grow, no matter the cost.
       Growth equated to power, and power meant survival. All he had.
       All he knew. The high brought on by the battle fought prior was
       gone, and he needed to find something to distract himself with
       aside from Vodka and viciously beating people in the hobo
       fighting ring.
       That was why he was doing this, it seemed.
       Vladimir and Toma were off completing a trade. Boris was
       recovering. Konoma was...doing as Konoma did, probably, and
       Chris was likely at an actual home. For Nikolai, there was but
       one thing on his mind - the testing of his newly
       obtained...equipment. Stray bottles sat about in various nooks,
       crannies, and everything inbetween - emptied by none other than
       Nikolai himself, and simply ASKING to be shot. A basic exercise
       in order to practice his aim, but one that would prove effective
       nonetheless with the absence of a proper target and E-T-C.
       SARZ-230 in hand, he took aim - took point, preparing to open
       fire. His left eye closed, right glaring forth along the barrel
       of his weapon as he lined up..
       BANG.
       Shattered glass exploded about, scattering across the corner in
       which the bottle had been placed and showering the area nearby
       in a rain of shards. Not one to waste momentum, time, or drag it
       on - Nikolai instantly took aim for the next, lining it up and
       releasing yet another bullet that connected and sent a wave of
       glass flying. On and on he continued, startling precision, honed
       aim, a disciplined trigger finger seeing him through as glass
       rained down and scattered about. More and more he opened fire,
       going until he could feel his reserve of EN drop dangerously low
       - and only then, he swapped to an alternate weapon. Out came the
       Kalashnikov, and from it a stream of bullets. They rang
       throughout, blasting the area with a deafening wave of noise as
       he emptied the entire clip and eviscerated his each and every
       target. With the noise, with each and every bullet, a feeling
       ate away at him - one of dread. A headache, slowly springing
       forth, racked his brain in an explosion of mental pain.
       The gunfire. The noises. The thoughts.
       A flashback - one of the war, was brought on by the intense
       gunfire. Nothing unusual for him, but still a feeling that left
       him drained more than anything else could. For one who reveled
       in battle so much as he did, one who thrived in it, one who
       could do nothing more than battle - it still hurt him. It had an
       effect on him that remained unseen to his peers, one that nobody
       could ever truly understand. Instantly, a cold sweat broke out -
       he felt oddly..jittery. His nerves were shot, soon enough taking
       over as he began to hyperventilate. More recollection - more
       memories, the sight of people dying around. The mutants. The
       gore. Everything that had occurred. The noise..gunfire...Was he
       being shot at? Without even the slightest bit of consideration
       he dove, going prone with gun in hand, almost as if envisioning
       a wave of bullets flying overhead. He opened fire, letting loose
       a stream of bullets unto some far off corner of the warehouse -
       tearing through everything in their path. Thankfully, Boris was
       not present, nor anybody else for that matter.
       A moment of silence.
       Nikolai regained his composure in due time, reaching for the
       last of the Vodka. He would say nothing of this - speak nothing
       of it. His training would continue, whether or not his own mind
       allowed. The Vodka was emptied, stray bottle tossed upward and
       fired at with pinpoint accuracy. He stowed away his weapon, and
       said nothing more of the situation. In the coming days, his
       training would continue - physical, aiming, and everything
       inbetween.
       #Post#: 113--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Nikolai (Side RP#3)
       By: Banditofdoom Date: September 4, 2018, 12:11 am
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       Accepted, good job Gav.
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