[ Like most citizens of Aldrip he's often seen in the same places with the same agreeable kind of faces. A fitting corner piece in this grand picturesque puzzle. Today Nikolai wedges himself against a door to hold it open in anticipation for the next person with a smile like any polite neighbour would.

The heterochromatic gaze shifts a few inches to the side to over that newcomer's shoulder as he spots one of the fairies carrying a brooch he feels a momentarily misplaced and impossible sense of ownership for. The feathers made of encrusted white stones, the body a deep-jade tone, the eyes purple—A look of acute distress flits across his features, yet resolves as quickly as one recovers from a sneeze when the person he was holding the door open for gets close enough. ]

Is it nice weather we're having?

[ The confusing emotion is actively dissolving away from his voice by the time the friendly greeting is offered alongside a belated wink. It's cheeky because when are they ever not having nice weather? ]

[ A certain someone has squirrelled some of the geodes away to crack at the local coffee shop in anticipation of a win... Well, another win. Judging from the glittering purple of the geode laid split on the table he has one free drink to redeem already. The steaming cup of black coffee thoughtfully sequestered off to the side of the table helps paint that picture further.

Of course there was the sheepish promise that he'd clean up any of the mess made before leaving the cafe.
With a grin he rolls up the sleeves of his cardigan before presenting a uncracked geode with one hand. Both eyebrows lift his face into a playfully expectant expression. ]

If this one is a winner you can have the prize.

[ Hard to spot from a certain distance with the two halves of the geode being held together with a hand: but it seems the results are already known. The red crack peeping out from underneath a bare palm is just a little too evident to be hidden from those who are looking. ]

[ The curious thing about experiencing death in a dream is how you're supposed to snap awake.

The Nikolai who belongs in this dream and to this hazy labyrinth is never meant to walk out of it alive. Is it by instinct he knows of this fate? No answers will come even as he wanders using the feet of stranger. At some point like a nightmarish manifestation a benevolent hand reaches out to touch him. He dies— He—

P̸̧̧̧̱̜̻͙̳̤͉̝̞̮̖̦͔̲͈̝̤̭̲̬͚̓́͑̓́̿̒͒͜͜͜͝͠U̶̧̢̡̡̬̻̣̞͇̫̩̖͇̙͇̞͉̎̽̈́͂́͋̇̆̆̈́̃̀̋̊ͅͅR̴̨͈̦̬̝̝̦̗̜̝͕̼͚̹̫̙̼̣̗̼̠̯͚̍̾̏͌͒̅̊̈͂̏̔̀̂͊̅͒̈́͛͘͜͝͝G̷̥̟̮̳͚͔̳̰̘̼̫̬̼͉̠̣̩̬̘̩̐̎͗̐͊̇͋̀̈́͝͝ͅǏ̷̪͓̥̜̞͉̲̱͙͍̮͇̲̬̽̓̆̎̋́̈̿̄͂̏̐̈́̈́͘̚N̴͚̞͇͍̲̽̀͂͋̀̓̓̽͂́̆̀͛̏͝G̶̢͔̝͋̈́̈̈́͊̋͌́͂̇̊͊̉̄͒̊̓̕̕͘͠ ̵̢̛̠̦͎̜͕͖͍͉̲̼́͒̈́̾̔̋̏́͑̽͋̆̄̊̉͗̈́͋̈́̒̌̒͐̔̐͘̚̕͘C̶̢̛̱̪̜̞̺̘̳̓̇̈́̎͗̐̑̋̐̑̒͌̌̀̽̕̕͘͝Ŏ̴̢͈̞̹͐̍́͒̄̎N̶̢̡̳̬̤̙͚͉͕̼͍̜̟͎̤̥̳͈͚͚͈̲͎̖̖̼̭̮̱͒̍́̎̐̄Ṫ̸̳̜̥͈̪͕͉͚͇͓̻̼̥̺̓̏̓̉̒̊̉͠͝Ë̴̺̝̱̬̣͈̮̠̯̝̜̬́ͅŅ̶͕̗̻̰͈̪̝͇͈̭̒͆̿̅̋̓͗̀̿̔́̏̀͒̂͗͋͛͌̉̀̕̚͝T̶̢̢̡͙͍̯̲͚̼̲̺͉̥̲̣̞͚̦̹͍̺͕̫̰̬͂̇͜͠]



[ It's such a beautiful day, once again. As per usual a perfect day to go feed the ███ḋ̸̠͚̒́͠ͅs̵̞̹̠̋̀͝͝ in the park.
After tossing a handful of seeds the platinum haired man turns his face up towards the sky in muted anticipation of seeing something that will never fly down to partake in the offering. A █î̸̼̠r̷̡̘̈́̈́ḍ̴̓ born in a cage doesn't notice that it's a prisoner. Yet once it notices those bars? In this manner did a unshakable mental disturbance come about and take hold.

It no longer feels like such a nice day. Is that rain? Regardless of if it is Nikolai doesn't move to find any cover in the park. He doesn't move at all. ]

[You know how this works! HMU. Generally Nikolai is going by his first name far more than he usually does during the AU. I have a plotting comment here because it's never too late to scheme being a really normal member of society.
LMK if you tag in and you're down for a short cameo from space manipulation shenanigans because Gogol's getting haunted by the Overcoat as some metaphor for remembering the true self or something. We love metaphors and pathetic fallacies here ]