Jackets Journal

11:47 AM

Close to midnight, the safehouse is dead and quiet. Each heister has gone to their homes and bedrooms to sleep. Except for one heister, staying up to work out in the gym without having another trying to one-up him or showing off.

Sokol was using the dumbbells, doing the easy work out first. He would've started using the bench press, but using the dumbbells seemed to be the easier way and a ready up before using the bigger weights. It's dead silent in the basement, from the lack of Wolf using his tools, Dragans grunts and complaints, Bodhi power saws, and Jacket testing out random cassette tapes.

It made Sokol uncomfortable from the lack of noises that he's used to, but he has the chance to use the gym without Dragan showing off or starting a competition that will leave his body sore. So he's using his opportunity to work out, he would practice his hockey skills, but the goal is very tiny and kid-size it ruins the illusion of him back in Russia with his team.

Sitting on the edge of the bench press, since theirs no other benches to sit on, lifting weights with his right hand. Sokol works out, in thought about his team in Russia thinking how they're doing while he's in America. Thinking about the gang he's joined, makes him think of the gang as a big family of weirdos with their own weirdness. Then his thoughts go to the new member, that left about almost an hour ago, wondering where the chicken head has gone that required a baseball bat. The new member is strange, yes, but all the others are strange too. Yet, he seems to stand out, not wearing a suit nor a clown mask, does not speak normally but only through a Walkman Cassette recorder and hasn't removed his mask once he got here or when he got back from his first heist.
Very strange.

Sokol then looked to his right, looking through the two tanks and a fence to see Jacket's room. The only thing lighting up in the room is the neon skull sign that hangs up on the wall, the cement floor littered with empty cassette tapes. There must be a store that sells cassette tapes of songs or training instructing, if there isn't then how the hell did he get so many of them? Was he prepared to be forced to talk? Possibly, you'll never know.

Sokol remembers hearing scribbles or pencil on paper noises coming from Jacket's room when it was just only Jacket and him. It makes him wonder what the chicken was writing, something secret? creating a hit list or any other lists, or just doodle from boredom? Sokol knows better than to snoop around another heisters station without them there, it's rude, plus trying to find something secret is even ruder. He learned the consequences while going through Sydney drawing station to see if there were concept designs for his mask, yet he found some other drawings he wasn't meant to see.  Let's just say the Australian is trying to find a lucky charm for herself to keep.

Sokol shook his head, trying to remove the memory from what he's seen and the ass-kicking he got from Sydney, also the humiliation she did on him. Luckily, he heard some footsteps coming down the spiral staircase distract him from the memory, thinking it's Aldstone coming down for a midnight check in to make sure everything all tidy and blood-free.

What he wasn't expecting was a bloody chicken holding a baseball bat covered in blood and possibly some brain pieces on it, a hammer sticking out of his pants pocket that seen better days covered in blood as well and an Uzi that he holds in his opposite hand, staring at him.
'He must've thought there would be no one down here' thought Sokol.
"Rough night?" He said to the bloody chicken.
Jacket only stared at the Russian grinder for a couple of minutes, which almost felt like hours to Sokol and head to his room.
Sokol decided that it was time to head to his room, so he put down the dumbbell and stretched, already feeling his arm becoming sore and almost his entire body from the day itself. He said goodnight to Jacket and head upstairs, already know that the only answer he's getting is a stare and silence.
Going through the door and into the connected apartment and through the wooden door to his bedroom. His room is simply a teenage athlete's style, hockey poster of his team, or the team he cheers for on his wall, hockey sticks above his bed forming an X, a stand that holds some trophies he earned before he left and pictures he cherishes dearly for memories. Sokol Changes into his pajamas and lays down in his bed, thinking about tomorrow and the bloody chicken he recently saw, wondering where did Jacket go to get all bloodied up and why? Who did he beat the shit out of?