07-08-2021, 06:21 AM
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"Your uncle, he ran away from home and never came back. He could be dead for all I know, all because he wanted to roll with gangs. Is that the life you want for yourself?"
His father thought that threatening him with a story about his lost uncle could deter him from living a life on the lam, outrunning danger and escaping death at every turn, but he had been so very wrong.
It had been seven years now since Nikolai, formerly Lachlan, had fled home. Mom was dead, things with Dad grew tenser each passing day... The only reason he could have remained behind was his little sister, Florence. As much of a pest as she could be sometimes, she was a beam of light, the sunshine on his cloudy day. Fuck, he missed her. He could hear her voice now -- "Did you just say that you missed me? What a softie!" Only for her, he was.
Nikolai knew that Florence would be better off with Dad, as much as he grew to resent his old man as a teenager. He hadn't been someone he could truly connect with, even though he meant well and was loving towards his two children. When he tried to sit down and connect with his son, he only ended up pushing him further and further away. Eventually, after Mom died, it became too much and Nikolai knew he had to leave. He had gotten caught up in a local street gang, terrorizing members of the community and stealing and looting and destroying things. Sometimes it had been for profit and gain, and sometimes it had been purely out of an urge to rebel and raise hell. They were kids, all of them, though Nik had been the youngest member at the time.
Now, the gang was gone. Nikolai had set off on his own for, say, a change of pace. He was done wreaking havoc just for the thrill of it. He wanted to seek his destiny and fulfill it, perhaps achieve a higher purpose. This world was abandoned and crumbling, and there was plenty of opportunities to seize.
The young man, tall in stature, steps foot onto the beaten path that leads straight into the city. His uncle would be here; or, perhaps, he wouldn't be. Nikolai knew that Charlie's reign was long over by now, but he still wondered if the man was still living in the city. He'd certainly like to meet him; maybe he would understand him more than his own father would.
Dark eyes survey his surroundings, thick brows slightly furrowing as he looks out for anybody on the horizon. Hm. Nikolai supposes he has to play the waiting game. He could be an impatient, brash man, but he knows that overstepping boundaries wasn't a smart move in a territory he didn't know. Nik wanted to live to see another day, not get jumped by a bunch of... gang members. Or mobsters. Whatever these people wanted to call themselves.
His father thought that threatening him with a story about his lost uncle could deter him from living a life on the lam, outrunning danger and escaping death at every turn, but he had been so very wrong.
It had been seven years now since Nikolai, formerly Lachlan, had fled home. Mom was dead, things with Dad grew tenser each passing day... The only reason he could have remained behind was his little sister, Florence. As much of a pest as she could be sometimes, she was a beam of light, the sunshine on his cloudy day. Fuck, he missed her. He could hear her voice now -- "Did you just say that you missed me? What a softie!" Only for her, he was.
Nikolai knew that Florence would be better off with Dad, as much as he grew to resent his old man as a teenager. He hadn't been someone he could truly connect with, even though he meant well and was loving towards his two children. When he tried to sit down and connect with his son, he only ended up pushing him further and further away. Eventually, after Mom died, it became too much and Nikolai knew he had to leave. He had gotten caught up in a local street gang, terrorizing members of the community and stealing and looting and destroying things. Sometimes it had been for profit and gain, and sometimes it had been purely out of an urge to rebel and raise hell. They were kids, all of them, though Nik had been the youngest member at the time.
Now, the gang was gone. Nikolai had set off on his own for, say, a change of pace. He was done wreaking havoc just for the thrill of it. He wanted to seek his destiny and fulfill it, perhaps achieve a higher purpose. This world was abandoned and crumbling, and there was plenty of opportunities to seize.
The young man, tall in stature, steps foot onto the beaten path that leads straight into the city. His uncle would be here; or, perhaps, he wouldn't be. Nikolai knew that Charlie's reign was long over by now, but he still wondered if the man was still living in the city. He'd certainly like to meet him; maybe he would understand him more than his own father would.
Dark eyes survey his surroundings, thick brows slightly furrowing as he looks out for anybody on the horizon. Hm. Nikolai supposes he has to play the waiting game. He could be an impatient, brash man, but he knows that overstepping boundaries wasn't a smart move in a territory he didn't know. Nik wanted to live to see another day, not get jumped by a bunch of... gang members. Or mobsters. Whatever these people wanted to call themselves.
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* ✰. ━━━━━━━━━━ 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