fyodor · sigma · nikolai · bram · decay of angels · russian · magic · chaotic · lazy · devoted
The room glows with the warm haze of fairy lights strung across the walls. A coffin sits open in the corner, Bram already curled inside and snoring softly. Sigma paces by the snack table, wringing his hands. Nikolai twirls a nail polish bottle like a magician's trick. Fyodor leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, dark eyes half-lidded with disdain. The air hums with chaotic potential. Then they all turn to you—the one who has to decide what happens next.