Who: Nikolai & OPEN What: Watching TV in the community movie room When: Late afternoon, Fri 22nd July Warnings: TBD
Growing up military and then turning to the Bratva when he was young hadn't left a lot of room for Niko to have what would be considered a 'normal childhood', whatever that was. He hadn't sat and watched cartoons at all when he was young, all his free time spent on studying and learning or hanging around the Russian bars listening in on their tales of crime and killing. He'd always considered himself too old to go back and catch up on what he missed out on but he'd found out, once he had the time and opportunity, that he liked the simple line and colour entertainment.
He was more than ready for the gala; as much as he didn't relish the idea of attending, he'd had practise and could feign interest in social functions without coming across as awkward and uncomfortable as he really felt. He'd much rather be lying in wait with a scope and a gun waiting to pick off his target, but there'd be time enough for that. He had a couple of suits already from previous jobs where he'd had to hob nob with high society and he'd spent a couple of hours down at the shooting range to practise his aim. He'd worked out at the OMEGA gym before going to his room to take a shower, changing into loungepants and an overlarge hoodie - most of his hoodies were overlarge, it wasn't hard on a small frame at 5'2" - before wandering out into the communal areas.
He made his way to the community room with the TV and settled down in his favourite seat, a two-seater sofa that was positioned in such a way that he could see anyone approaching but also had his back to the wall so no one could sneak up on him as well as being out of the line of sight of anyone who might be aiming through a window with a rifle; these were the things he thought about without consciously being aware he was fretting about them.
It wasn't unusual for Niko to relax by vegging out in front of the TV before a job and nothing changed now. He'd curled up in the nook of the sofa against the arm, lying on his side a little while Adventure Time played out on the TV screen. His mutilated hand was curled up by his face like it would hide the missing digit; all that he was missing was a bowl of popcorn.