Who: Nikolai Luzhin vor & OTA What: Taking a Walk When: Saturday, November 5, midday Where: Local Public Park Rating: Audience Discretion (could be) Advised Warnings: Nikolai is a career criminal who engages in questionable activities on a regular basis, serves as a bodyguard for Kenya Rosewater who runs The Need/Want (an adult club which features nude performances and offerings of the less-than-legal variety), and speaks his mind bluntly as is the nature of his upbringing in Moscow, Russia. Status: In Progress/Open to Anyone
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Orange County had more city parks than Nikolai imagined were in all of Russia. That old country knew little of modern niceties even in these modern times. It was called The Old Country by people who had never set a single foot on its stained soil; Nikolai missed it some days the way a beaten dog howled for its abusive master when neglected too long. He ached at a deep level for all he'd left behind there. It was not family or friends for him courtesy of his decisions in life. No, Nikolai Luzhin missed the structure, the certainty of life as it was for a man who had chosen the path of the Vory v zakone.
He had no family allowed him.
He had no friends allowed him.
All Nikolai was allowed?
The way of Vor.
Walking in the park was a nicety he should not indulge in. There were many who would have taken their knives to him, tried to beat him, berated him to remind him of his place as a Vor---except there were no true Vor in America, were there? He was a dying breed in his own country. In this country? Nikolai was entirely alien in a way he did not care for at all. His heart was torn between the world he had chosen to immigrate to and the world which was etched into his skin forever. People had a tendency to look at him only to look away quickly again. He knew it was the result of that life showing on his inked skin and the cut of his suit which matched the slash he called a smile.
Did any of these people come from someplace else? Were they missing a home other than the one they knew here? What kind of thoughts kept them walking with their eyes fixed straight ahead, staring at something unseen in the distance?
It was not in his nature to wax philosophical, yet Nikolai found he couldn't help himself as he meandered to a stop beside a bench. He stood at its side rather than taking a seat. His hands went almost without thought to his pockets to rummage around until he found his cigarette case, taking it out to retrieve a momentary boost of comfort from the smoke. He kept the cigarette clamped between his lips as he replaced the case to retrieve his lighter. The smell of burning tobacco calmed him in a way he both loved and despised.
Weakness was not tolerated among Vor.
Someone stopped in front of him and Nikolai cocked a brow in question as much as in welcome, "A quiet walk in the middle of the day is nice break from all work. It is the little things, is it not, to make life worth the living?"