[color=lightgreen][center][h3][i][b]Day 2: 00:45:10
Outside of Koley Railyard, Koley,
Libor Province,
Republic of Polavia
[/b][/i][/h3][/center][/color][center][b][h3][i]Borys Skala[/i][/h3][/b][/center][hr]
Borys did not take further part in the fight. After nearly getting bowled over by the lion, he simply sat back and watched his plan work perfectly with the content smirk of someone drunk enough to give alcohol testers anxiety. A [i]normal[/i] person might have been disturbed by the sight of what he helped unleash. Borys simply lamented the fact that his only pack of semechki was buried too deep in his backpack to grab it before the show ended.

“Molodets. Not bad.” Borys laughed as he clapped Felix on the shoulder after he turned back to human form, using the gesture to wipe the bit of Felix’ lunch that had landed on his hand against the Libolian’s shirt.

[quote]”We got a plan apart from getting shot by another patrol and you feasting on medium rare Polavian at Mach Fuck?”[/quote]
“I think that’s called ‘zoomies.’ ” He chuckled as he was wiping down blood from the floor with ripped army jackets and throwing out dismembered body parts of former regime personnel. You could say he was tossing out pieces of pieces of shit.

[quote]”How typical of everything in Polavia so far. Slightly run down and only responds to violence.”[/quote]
“Excuse you. Who are you calling ‘run down?’ ” Borys grumbled at Rowan as he stole a wrist watch from one of the dismembered limbs in the car, not challenging the rest of the statement.

Loading up, Borys took full advantage of his Craft, the lack of Dushkas on the pursuing vehicles and the fact that he was pissed enough for his ear drums to be practically immune to gunshots by that point and basically became a living gunshield for Rowan for the duration of the rolling firefight.

When it came to boarding the rolling train, he actually appreciated getting half-thrown that time. Falling itself would only have been disastrous once the PSA goons caught him, but there was not enough alcohol in all of Polavia to let him survive falling under the train’s wheels. He quickly checked that there was nothing threatening inside the cattle wagon before helping others in, low center of gravity and sheer guns helping offset his blood alcohol content when he didn’t have to move.

And then the UAZ got kamikaze’d.

Borys leaned out of the open door, realizing they were too far away for him to make an accurate shot at whoever was holding Felix and Rowan with irons and his blood alcohol level and turned to jump.

He probably would have been fine.

Fortunately, the last sober brain cell in his skull reminded him: ‘How the blyat are you gonna get back on the train, debil?’

“They’re fucked harder than a Kalani emigrant porn star.” He stated almost flatly, but with an undertone. Not sadness. It was the Polavian evergreen: Drunken fury. He’d almost leaned back into the train car when he saw it. A woman on a broom and a lion charging after the train. He leaned out again, one hand holding onto the inside of the train car, the other outstretched to grab onto Felix’ armor and help him on board when he caught up.

With the lion safely aboard, Borys turned to Oksana, lightly tapping the rangefinder she’d given him with his finger. “Do you want this back? Because if not, I’ll gladly keep it. Don’t get me wrong, it’s fucking weird, but really useful.”

Once Felix had been healed and back in human form, Borys pulled out the package from Oksana’s babushka. “Hungry?” He offered.