[ Nikolai isn't sure 'annoying' is the word he would choose to describe that room. 'Distressing', maybe. Is the difference in its impact a feature of the room itself, or a reflection of the kinds of people in it? Brook seems to think that it's the latter.

Now that he's through the door again, away from the sound burrowing into his head and the red glow making those black scars stand out sharply against his skin, Nikolai feels more than a little silly for panicking. Has he really lost his grip that much? Controlling his reactions, as Brook put it, used to come so easily to him. ]

A long time?

[ Nikolai repeats the words with light amusement, lifting his eyebrows. He is assuming - quite incorrectly - that Brook must be younger than him based only on appearance. It would've been a safe bet, based on the rules of his own world. ]

Surely not that long.

[ He smiles, clearly meaning no harm by it. The truth is, he's grateful to Brook for snapping him out of his trance and giving him the excuse to leave that horrible room. ]

But - forgive me if I'm showing my ignorance, but how exactly is any of that meant to be art?