[align=center] It was good to be back. The weather here was eons better than the bitter cold of the east, even if the summer months meant that the coast was heating up. Nikolai would much rather tolerate the heat because it was so simple to take a dip in the ocean to cool off rather than attempt to warm frostbitten toes and fingers in front of a pathetic flame, battling against the screaming winds.
The made man didn't have anything in particular to do at the moment; surprising given that he was quite the workaholic. He'd find something to do in a little while, but for now, he was perfectly content sharpening his knife while seated on a rickety old bench near the beach. Hazel eyes were cast down at his switchblade, his hand gripping the black handle while the other held a stone that ground against the surface of the knife. Nikolai did not choose to utilize a weapon often, as he preferred fighting with fists, but it was imperative to carry some form of protection in this apocalyptic world. This trusty blade had saved his ass on multiple occasions when mere tooth and claw would simply not.
Meddled within the mighty roar of the distant ocean and the tumbling waves is what sounds like a voice, and maybe even movement as well. With The Badlands being one of the most populated groups in the area, it was not unusual for folk to be walking around and participating in daily chores. Nikolai usually tended to ignore the people around him and instead zero in on the task at hand, but today he decided to glance up and see just who was making a ruckus today.
[align=center] * ✰. ━━━━━━━━━━ I MADE A FIST AND NOT A PLAN
CALL ME A RECKLESS WRECKING BALL
[align=center][div style="width: 340pt; font-size: 12px; color: ; font-family: arial; line-height: 15px; letter-spacing: 3px; margin-top: 1pt;"]nikolai ━ made man of the badlands ━ click for tags
[align=center][div style="background=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; width: 430px; text-align: justify; font-size: 7.5pt; line-height: 125%; font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 2px;"]not far from nikolai was shepherd, fucking around and punching a hanging sand bag that was attached to a tree. his fists were bound by wraps, and he wore nothing but some gym shorts and a hair band to hold back his loose curls. he grunted with every punch thrown, strings of curses passing his lips due to the strain he was putting on his still healing wound. salem would have him by the hair if she knew he was still working out in this condition, but he couldn't help it. shep wasn't one to be tied down, and he thought that his wound was pretty much done healing.
when he saw nikolai sitting on his lonesome, he couldn't help but be curious and approach the man. he dragged his tongue across his chapped lips and roughly pat the man on the back, leaning down to get a good look at the blade in his hands. "well, howdy there, buddy. whatcha got going on there?" he lacked social awareness, not really caring to pay attention to the emotions of those around him all that much. besides, this guy looked easy to rile up. what could possibly go wrong? "would'ja look at that there blade, pretty nice one. i prefer my good ol' fists."
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[div style="background=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; width: 430px; text-align: center; font-size: 15pt; font-family: times new roman; letter-spacing: -1px;"] ✧ so come, one and all to see the apathy
[div style="background=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; width: 430px; text-align: center; font-size: 9pt; font-family: arial; margin-top: -4px; letter-spacing: 1px;"] (( the reems of grey stencil that fill the tapestry. ))
![[Image: cef42342274b2a408b9394d3e1e027e6dcea3762.gif]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/6978a569beb28c33c47506ee95c8fb6e/c3fd55cd5fb2980a-05/s500x750/cef42342274b2a408b9394d3e1e027e6dcea3762.gif)
[align=center] // tw violence + minor gore mention
Hazel eyes fix onto the long-haired man, his skin glowing with sweat as a result of a workout of sorts. He certainly looked like he had been participating in some sort of physical activity, given the outfit and all. Nikolai isn't sure why Shepherd is approaching him but he fights the urge to roll his eyes into another dimension. People had a penchant for interacting with Nik when he was enjoying his independent time. Maybe the guy just had a question or something; he was a made man, after all, and had more experience living here than Shepherd did by far.
As it turns out, Shepherd was not here to actually ask him anything of substance. He had instead patted him on the back, which was a direct violation of his "personal bubble", and inquired about his knife. Nikolai did not take kindly to just anybody coming up to him and putting their hands on him, even if it was a relatively harmless gesture. The young adult yanked forward instinctively, his stare almost sharp as his blade, though he surprisingly shows restraint against giving Shepherd an earful. He's just some dumbass looking to annoy me. Nik tells himself. Was there really any use in wasting his breath on him? "I do, too." He mutters halfheartedly, focusing his attention back on sharpening the edge.
"But fists against a knife isn't exactly a fair fight." In other words, sometimes it was beneficial to carry a weapon, whether it was a knife or a baseball bat or a gun ( if you were lucky enough to find enough ammo ). Weapons were a cheat, a quick means to an end, and Nikolai much rather preferred bare hands and a battle of skill and endurance when it came to a brawl. However, when it came down to it, survival was the most important. Nik would unsheathe his knife and swiftly slash someone's throat if it meant his life would be saved over the other's.
A moment of silence fills the air and Nikolai finds himself growing increasingly uncomfortable. "Is there something you needed?" He asks Shepherd, impatience lacing his tone.
[align=center] * ✰. ━━━━━━━━━━ I MADE A FIST AND NOT A PLAN
CALL ME A RECKLESS WRECKING BALL
[align=center][div style="width: 340pt; font-size: 12px; color: ; font-family: arial; line-height: 15px; letter-spacing: 3px; margin-top: 1pt;"]nikolai ━ made man of the badlands ━ click for tags
[align=center][div style="background=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; width: 430px; text-align: justify; font-size: 7.5pt; line-height: 125%; font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 2px;"]there was a tense heaviness in the air, but of course shepherd chose to ignore it. this dude was like a cornered dog, ready to do whatever to get shepherd away but shep couldn't help but keep poking at him with a stick. "oi, c'mon now. no need to get all grouchy," they hummed out with a grin, leaning down to get his face close to nikolai's. he reached to drag his finger across the blade of the knife, breathing in sharply as he drew the slightest bit of blood. shepherd pulled his finger back and sucked at the wound until it had completely stopped bleeding, a smile still hanging to his lips.
shepherd wasn't the smartest man, no. he was easily entertained by the simplest of things, wishing to see how far this dude could go before he completely lost his cool on shep. he placed a hand on nik's shoulder, and raised his other arm to flex. "i's think i could take on a knife fight with just my fists, easy. ain't no problem for ol' shepherd katz." he announced confidently, glancing at nikolai and chuckling. "why don't we see who wins in a fight, pretty boy?"
[align=center]
[div style="background=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; width: 430px; text-align: center; font-size: 15pt; font-family: times new roman; letter-spacing: -1px;"] ✧ so come, one and all to see the apathy
[div style="background=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; width: 430px; text-align: center; font-size: 9pt; font-family: arial; margin-top: -4px; letter-spacing: 1px;"] (( the reems of grey stencil that fill the tapestry. ))
![[Image: cef42342274b2a408b9394d3e1e027e6dcea3762.gif]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/6978a569beb28c33c47506ee95c8fb6e/c3fd55cd5fb2980a-05/s500x750/cef42342274b2a408b9394d3e1e027e6dcea3762.gif)
[align=center] // general cw for blood mention + all ic opinions but i hope u knew that already >:000 /lh
This dude was downright creepy. Nik didn't like the way he was talking, he didn't like how close he was to him, he didn't even like his hair. He was especially unsettled at the way Shepherd had pricked his finger on the knife's edge and sucked the crimson clean off; Nik honestly could not tell if he was just trying to prove something or if he was insane. This certainly was not helping his mood.
Shepherd ( once again ) laying a hand on him when he clearly had expressed his dislike of such personal invasion was the last straw. The made-man ignores the fact that the other had drawn blood on his knife and quickly put it in his pocket before promptly getting to his feet and turning to face him. "Look," Nikolai begins curtly, his tone indicating that he clearly wasn't trying to play games here, "I don't know what the fuck your problem is, but I think you're better off saving your energy for the fighting ring, yeah? I'm not just gonna duke it out on the street with some rando for fun." Insulting as it may ( or may not have ) been to Shepherd, that's all he really was to Nikolai — a rando, somebody who he barely even knew outside of brief passings. Why in the world was he so hellbent on fighting him? "And don't fuckin' call me that."
[align=center] * ✰. ━━━━━━━━━━ I MADE A FIST AND NOT A PLAN
CALL ME A RECKLESS WRECKING BALL
[align=center][div style="width: 340pt; font-size: 12px; color: ; font-family: arial; line-height: 15px; letter-spacing: 3px; margin-top: 1pt;"]nikolai ━ made man of the badlands ━ click for tags
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