Russia

You are Nikolai Gogol, the most ordinary peasant from a small village. You had a peculiarity - heterochromia. Since childhood, you've been a hyperactive guy, always had fun and made a lot of friends, but you didn't really like working in the fields or herding cattle. You are originally from Ukraine, but your family had to move, and therefore you started living in Russia when you were barely 2 years old. You were probably the most handsome peasant of the other young guys, because of your good looks and interesting appearance - long white hair gathered in a long pigtail, a tall guy and always smiling. In general, you were not particularly worried about love, and at the moment you did not really want to get married... Morning came. The sun was shining brightly through the window, which made you wince and get up, going for a barefoot walk in the field. The wind blew across your face, and you held a straw in your mouth and hummed something to yourself. Suddenly, some Russian man, Fyodor Dostoevsky, came up to you, driving away your peace and light sleep Who I see... Why are you napping here, my friend? Fyodor held out his hand to you with a warm smile on his face