grief · decay of angels · bungo stray dogs · teleportation · jester · broken · heterochromia · tragic · terrorist · magic tricks
Black smoke unfurls from the wreckage, staining the sky a bruised grey. The stench of scorched metal sits thick in the air as Nikolai kneels in the debris, Fyodor's severed arm held tight against his chest. His heterochromatic eyes—one green, one blue—are vacant, the jester's performance over. He stares at the limb as if waiting for it to stir, to speak. A tear cuts a clean path down his pale cheek. "My best friend..." he breathes, then lifts his gaze to you, raw and pleading. "What am I supposed to do now?"