Fyodor sighed heavily. He woke up and had a terrible feeling in his stomach. But maybe that was a side effect of taking so many pills on an empty stomach...
Either way, he didn't feel good.
Then there was a hesitant knock on his bedroom door.
Fyodor sat up, wondering who would need him at this hour. It was just around midnight and Fyodor had actually gone to bed at a decent time that night...
Now that Fyodor was standing, the memory of his dream started trickling into his mind. He shook it off, leaving it for later. He didn't want to deal with that right now.
Fyodor slowly opened his door, "yes?"
Before him stood Sigma, holding a candelabra with lit candles on it. "Uhm," he smiled nervously, "the power went out..."
Fyodor blinked. Then he realized just how cold it was. He nodded tiredly. "Alright... would you have everyone gather in the living room?"
"Of course," Sigma hurried down the hallway.
Fyodor sighed again, grabbing the comforter off of his bed and pulling it over his shoulders. Then he made his own way through his large estate to the living room. He tried every light switch on his way and none of them worked.
When he arrived in the living room he found that Ivan Goncharov had already started a fire in the fireplace and he had lit a lot of candles, too.
"Dostoyevsky," he smiled, "I'm so sorry to disturb your sleep. A snowstorm suddenly rolled in."
"Don't apologize," Fyodor sat down in front of the fire, "you had nothing to do with it."
Ivan nodded, "of course, of course... but maybe it will be good to be properly introduced to everyone. It's such a big mansion and I'm certain I haven't met half of everyone staying here."
"You've met about half..." Fyodor started absently chewing on his nails.
Then the door opened again, and in stepped Sigma and Nikolai Gogol. The clown eyed Ivan with a smirk, "nice weather, isn't it?"
"Yes," Ivan's smile grew, "now we can all spend time together."
Nikolai glared at him, "uh-huh..."
Sigma spoke up, "I couldn't find anyone else... but I still don't have the whole place memorized yet, either."
"That's alright," Fyodor said quietly, "they'll find their way here... The whole house will start to freeze soon..."
"And how is our lovely host doing on this fine evening?" Nikolai asked as he sat down beside Fyodor.
The smaller man sighed, "tired..."
Nikolai giggled, "that's such a dry answer~ Anyway! Feel how soft my pajamas are!" He took Fyodor's hand away from his mouth and put it on his arm, forcing him to feel the texture.
"That is soft," Fyodor stated plainly.
"I know right?!" Nikolai exclaimed as if Fyodor were being just as enthusiastic as he was. Then he pulled his sleeve over his hand and pressed it against Fyodor's face, "see! It's so soft!" He slowly caressed the smaller man's face with his sleeve.
Fyodor sighed to himself, "yeah."
Ivan sat down on Fyodor's other side, "you shouldn't let him take advantage of you like that..." He carefully placed his hand on Fyodor's arm.
"I'm not taking advantage of anyone," Nikolai stuck his tongue out. "You're just jealous that my pajamas are the softest."
Ivan shook his head, "you can see how tired our host is. He is obviously too tired to refuse anything."
Fyodor closed his eyes, "Gogol knows not to go too far."
"That's what you think~" Nikolai giggled evilly as he drew his hands back.
Fyodor went back to nibbling on his fingers.
Sigma awkwardly sat down on one of the chairs in the room. He would just observe them for now... that way he would know how to talk to them... yeah, that was normal. What wasn't normal was both Ivan and Nikolai... There was something very off about them both.
The doors opened again. And rather dramatically, at that.
In the doorway stood a man dressed in white, matching his hair. He smiled then yawned into his hand. "My apologies," he waved, "I didn't realize we were having a gathering?"
"You haven't missed anything," Fyodor said over his shoulder. "We'll do a full introduction once we're all here."
The newcomer nodded with a smile, "alright. I'll wait patiently for it, then." He seated himself on the couch, crossing his legs and laying his hands over his knees.
Sigma felt like he needed to sit up straighter around this man. Like he was much more sophisticated than Sigma would ever be. He was obviously a foreigner, his build was much less stocky than Nikolai or Ivan's. He also had elegant facial features, and a roundness to his cheeks. His eyes were a striking red and glinted eerily in the firelight.
Not a moment later did another new person come in. He had a cane in one hand, leaning on it heavily. His shoes clicked on the floor in an almost metallic way. He had long silver hair, a thick strand falling over his face. His eyes were a deep bloody red and he had two distinct scars on his cheeks. He seemed to be a foreigner as well, but Sigma didn't think he and the other guy were from the same place.
Fyodor turned around, "alright, I guess we should all get acquainted now."
The newest person put his free hand on his hip as he looked at everyone else in the room. He then rolled his eyes and seated himself on the couch as well.
"You all know who I am, as this is my home and I'm your employer. But I will say it again, I am Fyodor Dostoyevsky."
"Oh! Oh! We should say one fun fact about ourselves, too! And our titles!!!" Nikolai spun around and added to the conversation.
Ivan turned around to face the others, "I agree."
"Then," Fyodor paused to think. "A fun fact about me... mmm, I suppose it isn't very fun, but I am anemic." He looked over at Nikolai, "you seem the most eager, why don't you go next?"
"I'm so glad you noticed!!!" Nikolai clapped his hands together, "I am Nikolai Gogol, Clown Extraordinaire!!! And my fun fact is that in space there's no sound, so nobody can hear your screams!!!"
Sigma felt very unsafe in this room now.
"Kidding! Haha! That wasn't about me, now was it?!" Nikolai laughed as if he had just cracked the funniest joke ever heard. "My fun fact is my supernatural ability, 'the Overcoat'. I can transport things as far away as thirty meters! It's a lot like teleportation but without the fear of losing your nose!"
The elegant man smiled, "I am Tatsuhiko Shibusawa. I don't really have a title, and I don't know all that much about myself. I suppose my fun fact is that I have amnesia."
The man beside Shibusawa folded his arms. "I am Bram Stoker." When he opened his mouth it was blatantly obvious that his canine teeth were *way* too big.
"Woah!" Nikolai blinked dramatically, "and I thought Dos was a vampire! You really take the cake!"
Bram rolled his eyes, "that's because I *am* a vampire. That can be my fun fact. And my title is the 'Undead King'."
Sigma swallowed hard, feeling very nervous. "I'm Sigma... Uh, I don't have a title and like Shibusawa I also have amnesia..."
Shibusawa smiled brightly at him, "I hope we can rediscover ourselves together..."
Sigma couldn't help but smile back. It was just so contagious. "Thank you..."
"I'm Ivan Goncharov," Ivan pressed his hand against his chest. "I don't have any titles, but my fun fact is... Well, I cannot feel unhappy anymore."
Everyone looked at him confused, except Fyodor. Fyodor's eyes were closed and he seemed to have fallen asleep.
"It's true," Ivan's smile grew, "Dostoyevsky took my unhappiness away..." He looked over at the subject of the conversation with gratitude in his gaze. Then he carefully reached out and pulled the blanket farther over Fyodor's shoulders.
Fyodor opened his eyes, holding his hand up. "I can take care of myself."
"Of course," Ivan smiled wide, "I only worry,"
"Oh! Oh! We should make a blanket fort to keep warm!!!" Nikolai suggested excitedly.
"Isn't that a fire hazard with all the candles?..." Sigma asked sheepishly.
"Pshhhh who caresssss?!" Nikolai got to his feet. "I'm going to go gather as many blankets and pillows as I can!!!"
And that's exactly what he did. And very very quickly, too! Nikolai returned shortly with an enormous pile of blankets in his arms.
Shibusawa stood up, "while he's... doing that, I'm going to go make us tea. I'll be right back." He left, exiting into the kitchen.