[ that flat look remains, fixed upon chuuya. fyodor's anger is a quiet, simmering beast—manifesting in the most unexpected ways, such as his decision to whimsically stab gogol and ending up with a nearly fractured wrist in return (rightfully so).

last person who had the gall to hit him, ace, had ended up hanging himself and so— it is inevitable really, but he will find a way to pay back this injury. not with death, no, not until he knows more about this place, but there were always ways to skin a godling.

he revises his plans; he'll need gogol alive for a while longer here too. and in order to keep his dear friend in line...well, fyodor can deal with that soon enough. ]

I will do my best to remember this, godling.

[ he stands slowly and dusts his clothes. ] I shall get back to work now. Some of us don't have the luxury of gravity at our beck and call.