Tent Saturdays are for the Boys PV

If dialogue is in italics, Maksim is speaking in Russian.

As Maksim entered the Durmstrang campsite, he noted all of the students fleeing to find a tent of their own, and picked up his own pace. Five people... he needed to find a tent to fit five, not two, like he'd originally thought it was going to be. After all, he couldn't imagine a more exhilarating time than roughing it with his brother and built-in best friend in a tent, preparing to cheer Slava on at the big match versus Hufflepuff. But, one thing led to another, and suddenly, Maksim found himself with three other tentmates that he hadn't planned for. Not that you'd ever catch him complaining about it- he had always loved socializing and meeting new people, and had never turned down an opportunity to get closer with some of his classmates.

Finally, he found a tent perfect for five people- you could tell because there were only five beds. Glancing around the campsite, looking for his prearranged tentmates, his eyes landed on Arjan Oberoi first, and his mouth twisted into a hesitant smile. Frankly, the Indian boy frightened him a bit, not that he'd ever admit it, especially not to his face. While both of them were confident and let their emotions run wild, Maksim was more of a lover while Arjan definitely was more of a fighter. But still, he didn't let his unfamiliarity with the boy stop him from waving wildly, hopefully catching his eye. "Oberoi!" he called out, the slightly taller boy jumping up and down in front of the tent. "Over here! I found a tent, and it's pretty big, too."

Turning to scan the campsite once more, he picked out Rudolf Novikov, another familiar face from his year and someone he deeply respected. While the two certainly weren't as close as he was with his brother, they were nearly on a first-name basis with each other. Maksim certainly hoped that their experience sharing a tent would tip the scales just enough where he'd find a new friend and ally in Novikov, but that was yet to be seen. "Novikov, come quickly!" he hollered in the direction of the Ukrainian. "I found a good tent for us all!"

Now... where the hell was Madhup Hexum? Maksim had never really considered Bumblebee to be a good friend of his, or even a friend at all. But, he was friends with Slava, so he held no ill will against the boy. Sometimes he got on Max's nerves, but that was pretty much the extent of it. Finally picking out the shorter boy in the crowd, Maksim was tempted to try and hit the kid with a harmless hex or jinx to get his attention, but managed to restrain himself. "Hexum, I found a tent! Hurry up, or you'll get last pick of the beds!" Not that he'd ever get first pick anyway, being the youngest amongst the five of them.

Finally, Maksim located his own brother, Vyacheslav Preobrazhensky, waving eagerly to him with a wide smile. The two looked nothing alike, of course, but they were as close as brothers could be. While they were a year apart in age, they were still best friends and always had each other's backs. "Slava, you slow-poke, hurry up! I want a bed next to you."

Satisfied, now that he'd located all of his tentmates, Maksim turned to head inside the tent to examine the space more thoroughly. Whistling appreciatively as he scanned the place, he tossed his knapsack onto one of the beds and dropped his duffel bag on top of the trunk, his head swiveling round and round as he tried to take everything in. "This is nice..." he muttered approvingly, although he noted how easily the five of them could drive each other crazy in the confined space. They were all strong characters with explosive personalities, and he could only imagine how ridiculous things could get if they managed to land themselves in an argument.

But that wasn't something he needed to worry about now. Turning back to the bed he'd claimed, Maksim began to unpack his things, tucking his clothes into the pull-out drawer attached to the bed. His tentmates would arrive when they arrived, and none of them were in any particular hurry to get anywhere. He would have plenty of chances to get to know the rest of them better throughout the rest of their stay here.

Roleplaying as Durmstrang iNPC Arjan Oberoi

Stamina: 12 | Evasion: 1 | Strength: 15 | Wisdom: 3 | Arcane Power: 7 | Accuracy: 10
Abilities: Obnoxiously Strong | The Martial Artist | Spell Spread

Stretching his muscular arms over his head, he exhaled as he grabbed his belongings. They had been briefed and... it went in one ear and out the other. There was something about rules - but they did not apply to him, did they? Nah. Throwing his bag over his shoulder, he grabbed his trunk in the other. Arjan's hazel-brown eyes searched the camp. He was meant to stay with a bunch of guys. What a pity. Where were the cute girls? He resisted complaining - for the millionth time - that it was unfair he could not stay in the Beauxbatons camp. From the reputation, it sounded like the girls there would be very much his type.

Hearing his name, he glanced over to the direction of the sound. Oh. That Maksim Preobrazhensky kid. Arjan did not really know him well enough but he recognised him, as Slava's older brother. Though maybe he should actually look after his younger brother so Arjan did not have to. Wait, Arjan did not care about Slava. Of course not. He would never look out for him! It was just a coincidence! Every time!

Arjan groaned under his breath as he watched the kid jumping up and down, secretly hoping he was not this energetic all the time. Definitely should sneak off to the Beauxbatons camp if that was the case... Heading over regardless - mostly because he wanted to snag a good bed - he observed the tent. It was not terrible. It was not as fancy as he would have liked but they were literally camping. It was probably far better than half the crap around here. At the very least, it was big. Despite being for only five people, it was still larger than some of the others. "Eh, not a bad find..." He responded back in Russian as he observed it. A rare compliment from him. Well... as good as Maksim might actually get.

Spotting the best bed - in his opinion - he snagged it by throwing his back onto it and dumping his trunk by the edge of it. The chosen bed was pretty much the same as everyone else's, just differing in the location but that was enough. He just wanted the best bed and he had claimed it. That was all that mattered. Guess arriving early had its perks sometimes. At least he did not have to get his hands dirty by dragging someone else out of theirs and threatening to break their face if they did not give it up. He jumped back onto the bed, kicked off his shoes, cracked his knuckles and ran his hand through his poofy hair before just lying back. London was less exciting for him than some of the others. It was where his parents lived, anyway. So he came back pretty much every holiday. And since he was not really playing Quidditch, he did not really care about checking out the stadium anyway. He was mostly here for the girls or the experience. It should have been a laugh. At least this way, he did not have to deal with the irritating small sister of his back home.

RPing as iNPC Rudolf Novikov

It was much easier to hear Maksim than see him in the colony of colorful tents, but luckily for Rudolf, he wasn't shutting up any time soon. At the sound of the Ukrainian's name, he slung his duffel bag over his shoulder and ventured into the canvas labyrinth, searching for the schoolmate who continued to shout a roll call across the encampment. Dolf was glad that Maksim had put him at the front of the list — without any noise to follow, he might have never found him. Plus, if Dolf was first to the tent, he'd get his pick of the beds. Spurred on by that idea, Dolf walked a little faster and looked a little harder for the other boy.

If their five-person tent was a circus (which seemed very likely), Maksim Preobrazhensky was the ringmaster. He'd been the one to invite Rudolf into the group, which had saved the latter from another dull summer in Kyiv. Dolf was grateful for the offer, and for Maksim's thoughtfulness; the two boys weren't friends, exactly, so it had been an especially nice thing to do. Apparently, he'd picked up some other lost souls since they'd last talked. Dolf wasn't very close to any of the boys that Maksim summoned to their tent, but he could match their names to their faces, and he tried to do so as he rounded another corner with no sight of his destination.

Arjan Oberoi was in their year, and he just looked cocky. Of course, Dolf had no way of backing up that assumption, given that they never talked, but he wouldn't be surprised if it was true. He was tall and well-built like Maksim. They both had black hair too, though Arjan's was much longer. The big difference was their expressions: while Maksim came off energetic and smiley, Arjan's face said that he'd gladly punch you in yours. Maybe that was just Dolf's presumptions getting in the way again. He'd have to make an effort to get to know Oberoi — and Maksim, for that matter — for real before July was over.

The other two were younger boys: Maksim's brother, Vyacheslav, and his friend Madhup Hexum. They were the shortest of the group and both had something mischievous about them. Vyacheslav always looked like he was planning something; Madhup always looked like the distraction. Dolf was sure that he'd have to watch his back living with them for a month, but it was nothing he couldn't handle.

One final turn put Rudolf right in front of their tent, just in time to see Maksim disappear inside. Did that mean that everyone else had already gotten there? He didn't want to get stuck with the reject bed. Dolf glanced over his shoulder to scan for his other tentmates and realized that he'd taken a detour for absolutely no reason at all — he could see straight down an aisle of tents to where he'd been standing five minutes before. лайно! Shit! Dolf grit his teeth and hoped that Maksim hadn't seen too much of his wild goose chase. So much for "come quickly".

Dolf entered the tent, relieved to find only Arjan and Maksim inside. He muttered a greeting and glanced around the interior, relieved to find that it was a good tent after all. There was plenty of space for each of them, storage for their belongings, even a pit for a fire. That seemed like a risk; not a detriment, though. Dolf nodded appreciatively and set his bag down on one of the empty beds. He could see himself living here for a month. He could do much worse.

Arjan spoke up and Dolf agreed as he started to unpack his things. "Good job, Preobrazhensky," he remarked in Russian, giving a small smile even though his back was turned to the other boy. He could busy himself with the unpacking until the last two boys arrived — he wanted to greet them, if only just to officially introduce himself. He wondered briefly how much time they'd actually be spending together; there was bound to be plenty to do before the Quidditch game even started.

If he never saw his tentmates again, or if he saw them every day, Dolf was still glad he had a place to stay. London certainly beat Kyiv. With any luck, he wouldn't spend this summer counting the days until he was back at Durmstrang.

Madhup slithered through the bustling crowd of tent hunters with ease. It may be more accurate to say, it parted around him, for the short-legged lad moved slowly today. A large rucksack was upon his back, and stretched across his shoulders, arms looped around the shaft to hold it in place, was his broom. It did not matter that he was a second-string member. Making sure everyone passing by recognized him as a venerable Quidditch player was absolutely essential. He walked at a leisurely speed, untroubled, unhurried. It was a practiced pace intended to imply he was completely confident, something which would work well in hiding the fact that Madhup had never before been to London. The boy's peacock practice was interrupted, though that wasn't any trouble. He'd heard one of his favorite things: his own name. And something else....

Last pick of the beds?
Madhup was last at nothing.

The act was dropped. Madhup scrambled through the crowd, darting and weaving with an agility that defied the bag on his back or broom under his arm. He entered after the others eagerly, slapping the flap aside. "Rustic" was not his typical go-to. The cabin-tent's charm was not lost on him, though the boy maintained a relatively unimpressed facade, "hmmm"ing here and there as if debating whether or not it really was as "good" as Maksim claimed. His Russian was adequate, yet his English was rudimentary at best, thus- seldom opting for his native tongue around his Durmstrang companions- he would most often elect to use the former. "Is the best you could find, Maxie?" Madhup jeered through a jackal's grin, his ribbing good-natured (albeit often tiresome). "I will stay- only because you asked, and it will be too quiet without me!" The young flyer did a swift scan of the room, trying to locate a bed cozy enough to fit his ego.

While moving through the room, Madhup discreetly sized up more than just the bunks. Maksim had bothered to bring them here. He already had an advantage: friendliness, and a camaraderie which may bring them all to bond, even if Maksim and his new roommates had a funny way of expressing these things. Arjan was huge in musculature, magic, and personality. Dorming with him was the perfect opportunity to figure out if he actually had any weaknesses besides Slava- not something which would be used against him per say, but something which would consequently make Madhup feel less small standing next to him. The Novikov boy was also big for his age; he, like Madhup, was bold and easy to aggro. But his sense of self-control gave him an edge over the reckless second-year.

Posturing would not get him too far with this lot. Trying to burn too brightly in a room full of wildfires would only fry him early on, and so Madhup would plop his possessions down onto a bed without further jabs or jokes. He began unpacking and grinned excitedly to any who met his eye, crooning Hindi with an approving vibe upon noticing the fire pit.

RPing as approved Durmstrang iNPC Vyacheslav Preobrazhensky

Words that Vyacheslav says that are in italics are in Russian.

Slava was excited. A trip to a different country, Quidditch, chilling with his brother and friends, and getting to mess with more people? Perfect! He walked beside Maksim with a bounce in his step, humming to himself and occasionally jumping in front of his brother to tell him something he had thought of. When Maksim went to find a tent like the responsible older brother he was, Slava wandered off. There was just so much to explore!

He hopped along, kicking a pebble on his way and alternating between putting his hands in his pockets and having his arms spread wide for balance when he was walking strangely. He tripped once, but straightened up quickly and brushed any dirt off of him, looking around frantically to make sure that no one saw before continuing his trek, downplaying his mistake by strutting off with the coolest look he could manage.

At some point during this, he saw his brother's smiling face. And he dared to call him a slowpoke? “I'm coming, I'm coming!” he yelled back, running into the tent. He barely took a second to glance around before focusing on his tentmates. A wide, goofy grin spread across his face as he prepared to address them all in turn.

“Rudolf, how's it going?” Slava wasn't particularly close to him. Most would use last names for that kind of relationship, but Slava was never one for formalities. Why bother demonstrating that there was any emotional distance between them? That seemed like it would just make people even less close. Dolf was likely the one who possessed the most self-control out of anyone in this tent, and so the younger boy was ever so slightly wary of him, not sure whether he was constantly annoying him with his energy. But had that ever stopped him? Absolutely not, and he wasn't going to let any of his tentmates go unnoticed!

He grinned especially widely at the next victim of his attention. Arjan Oberoi. He had looked out for Slava on numerous occasions, despite his claims that it was purely accidental and not at all intended in a friendly manner. Suuuure, Slava thought. Regardless of the claims Arjan made or whatever the truth was, the smaller Preobrazhensky would insist that Arjan was doing it out of love, and that they were truly besties, even if Arjan didn't know it yet. “Arjan, my man!” he greeted the boy, attempting to do finger guns at him.

Since he had already acknowledged his brother briefly and would probably talk to him later on, the final member of their tent that Slava would acknowledge was Madhup, his close friend. “What's up, Tiger?” He threw his arm amicably around the shoulders of the little Indian. Madhup's name was one that meant honeybee, and he didn't seem to like that meaning, pretending instead that it meant tiger at the beginning of the year. By now, Slava knew its true meaning, but he preferred for his friend to be comfortable, and Tiger was a decently cool nickname anyway.

It was then that Slava spotted the full-length mirror and snickered quietly before blowing himself a dramatic kiss. “Don't I look gorgeous?” he said jokingly to no one in particular, soon being distracted by locating his bed. He wandered closer and leapt up in the air, soaring over and diving down, landing on the bed with a bounce. He scrambled to turn to face the right way, crossing his legs and eyeing his tentmates gleefully. The kid had way too much energy, and it wasn't running out any time soon.

If dialogue is in italics, Maksim is speaking in Russian.

@Serena Towers as Arjan Oberoi || @Adam Harringtom as Rudolf Novikov
@Pericles Dralt as Madhup Hexum || @Ruby Cazares as Vyacheslav Preobrazhensky

The first of his tentmates to join Maksim inside the tent was Oberoi, and he greeted the rather intimidating boy with a wide and gracious smile. It wouldn’t do to start off on the wrong foot now, would it? Max couldn’t imagine a worse fate than to spend his summer with someone who hated his guts. His smile wavered slightly at Arjan’s less than enthusiastic reply, but in a flash it was back to its full wattage. Frankly, that was probably the nicest thing he’d ever heard from his classmate, so he figured that he’d take what he could get. Who was he to judge someone else’s behavior? Different people had different definitions of being nice or being polite, and Max was in no place to try and lecture Arjan on how the etiquette of complimenting someone’s tent-finding abilities. So, he smiled, honestly pleased that Arjan hadn’t just sucker-punched him right then and there.

Continuing to tuck his belongings into the various storage spaces provided for them, he beamed at Rudolf as the other boy entered the tent. Now here… here arrived Max’s main mission of the summer: to truly befriend Novikov. Frankly, Maksim just needed more confidantes, more people he could truly count on. After all, Slava was a whole year younger than him, and they shared very few classes together, if any at all. It was a shame that he wasn’t closer with Novikov, really. “Thank you,” he remarked graciously in response to Dolf’s compliment, pausing to glance around the tent. “Considering there’s five of us, it might be a bit of a squeeze... but we can-”

His encouraging words were cut off by the loud arrival of Madhup. Sighing slightly, he raised an exasperated eyebrow at the boy, quipping half-heartedly, “I’d like to see you find better.” His heart wasn’t in it, however, as he scanned the tent anxiously. Where the hell was his own brother? As scatter-brained as Slava appeared on the surface, he could be incredibly focused when he wanted to be. “I fear that it may be too loud with you around,” Max added, referring to Madhup’s joking once more. “And on top of that, if you snore, we may just have to throw you out.”

Finally, Slava appeared, greeting the squad with his customary enthusiasm. Scoffing as his brother beelined for the mirror, he muttered under his breath, “Am I living with peacocks?” Straightening up as he finished putting away his few belongings, he resisted the urge to help Slava with unpacking. He figured that there was no way that Slava would want his older brother to baby him in front of his friends, even if that meant his clothes would end up wrinkled as they got shoved haphazardly into the drawer. Taking a seat on his bed, tucking one of his legs underneath the other, he glanced around at his tentmates.

“We should have some ground rules,” he suggested tentatively, glancing warily at their resident anarchist. “Just so no one feels the need to strangle one another,” he added quickly, hoping that Arjan would play nice for now. “If you’re snoring, we reserve the right to throw you outside,” he started, beginning to recite the list he’d already started formulating during the journey here, “Same goes for anyone who talks in their sleep. Or at least, we’ll yell at you to shut the hell up.” Pointing at the mirror on the far end of their tent, which Slava had already spotted, he added, “No more than ten minutes in front of the mirror. I’m not going to wait an hour for Oberoi to floof his hair up the perfect amount.”

Max immediately flinched slightly after his loose-lipped quip, fully expecting Oberoi to hex him right then and there. How could he be so stupid as to say that out loud? Kicking himself internally, Maksim nodded at the fire pit in the center. “And maybe we can use that, too,” he suggested hesitantly, “If we can find some food to toast and wood to burn.”

He knew that there was absolutely no reason as to why they’d ever need ground rules, but Maksim always needed control. He needed order and a system, which sometimes made him seem like a bit of a mother hen. However, he’d rather air his grievances out in the open sooner rather than later, as he certainly didn’t relish the idea of a miserable summer. He wouldn’t force the boys into some sort of ground bonding exercise, of course, but he hoped that maybe they’d be a little bit closer by the end of this whole ordeal.

Finally turning to the other tent tenants, he asked, “Anything to add?”

Roleplaying as Durmstrang iNPC Arjan Oberoi

Stamina: 12 | Evasion: 1 | Strength: 15 | Wisdom: 3 | Arcane Power: 7 | Accuracy: 10
Abilities: Obnoxiously Strong | The Martial Artist | Spell Spread

Arjan was happy to lie on his bed and just rest, without being disturbed. However, the voices around him seemed to have a different idea in mind. He sat back up as he heard his name. In time to see Slava sending some finger guns his way after a greeting that was met with a glare. 'My man', seriously?! Slava almost made it sound weird. They were just acquaintances. Nothing more. Come on, "Geesh, man, you need find yourself a date," He responded, just trying to get the boy's attention away from him and onto something else.

The other Preobrazhensky decided to sprout some crap about ground rules. What even. There was only really one ground rule they needed to know in Arjan's mind and that was 'stay the hell out of my way'. He almost started to complain, about to tell the boy to shut up. But then heard something about snoring. That... was a good point. Arjan did not want to listen to someone snoring loudly - and throwing them outside sounded like suitable punishment for that crime. He had no idea if he snored but that did not matter. He did not have to listen to himself, after all. And besides, if his voice sounded so beautiful then his snoring was probably like music to their ears. So even if he did snore, it would just be musical and beautiful. No one could fault that. He was, after all, perfect.

He almost agreed with these ground rules. Until he heard the comment about his hair. "Hey now-" He started up immediately, standing up to make his point. He was a lot more intimidating when he was standing tall, after all. "You might not care how you look but some of us do," He responded, meeting the boy with a glare. The others might need less than ten minutes in front of a mirror to look as bad as they did but Arjan needed to make sure his clothing and his hair were perfect. Not a single crease or strand out of place. It took time to look this beautiful. He spent countless hours exercising for these muscles, he would happily spend at least ten minutes a day just admiring them. Everyone else got to admire them, why couldn't he?

It was unfair if he could not appreciate them. In fairness, he woke up very early and exercised first thing - even on holidays. So there was a good chance that he would be up and dressed before the others even stirred awake. However, that was not the point. The point was that if anyone thought he was going to move aside when he was using the mirror, they were sorely mistaken. You could not pay him enough - or threaten him enough - to move.

With that, he raised his guns - showing them off to the others and placed a kiss on each arm as he did. They were the muscles he had to appreciate. That and he was not afraid of using them against them. "I'll take my hour," He continued after that display, not really bothered by what the others thought. Of course, they could try and stop him.

He had no other rules to add at present. His focus was just stopping this ridiculous one, that he was obviously not going to follow whatsoever.

RPing as iNPC Rudolf Novikov

Too quickly after Dolf set his things down, the tent got noisy. This was all thanks to the arrival of two younger boys. They were not his friends — none of the other boys were, really, and he was fine with that — and they were certainly not rivals. Simply schoolmates that he saw on occasion. The boys entered one after another: equally enthusiastic, equally disruptive.

First came Hexum, the small one. Some people called him Tiger, if Dolf was hearing them right; he would not be doing the same. It wasn't a total mismatch, he supposed, but you couldn't see the tiger in Hexum until he roared. And roared. And roared. When you spoke to him, you were struck by his exaggerated swagger, his...big personality. Dolf got the sense that if it came to conversation between them, he would be easily overwhelmed by his tentmate. He'd have to remind himself to keep someone between him and Hexum until they were better acquainted with each other. If only for his sanity.

It will be too quiet without me! Hexum proclaimed as he swept through the tent. Dolf cast a look at Maksim and wondered if there was such a thing as "too quiet".

While Hexum was claiming his spot, the tent's final occupant walked in: Maksim's little brother, Vyacheslav. No fancy nicknames, but just as much charisma as the Tiger of Durmstrang. He greeted Dolf almost right away, even using his first name, implying something much more friendly between them than Dolf had thought. Surprised by Vyacheslav's directness, Dolf just nodded and muttered something half-coherent in response. It didn't matter much — the boy had already moved on. He beamed at Oberoi, tossed his arm around Hexum, and stopped in front of the mirror. Dolf smirked as he blew himself a kiss. If nothing else, Vyacheslav was effortlessly entertaining.

Maksim played host as the boys filed in, and once their things were in place it was him who suggested making a few rules. Dolf agreed: rules were good in any situation. The ones that Maksim laid out were reasonable and fair, although Dolf wished he'd sound more confident when he said them. He laughed at the (completely fair) jab towards Oberoi and nodded his approval about the fire pit. With Maksim keeping them civil, this summer could go by without many problems at all.

Unless Arjan "I'll take my hour" Oberoi messed it all up. Dolf rolled his eyes as the big boy stood and flexed in a show of...dominance? He was strong, there was no denying that, but every time he talked, it was all bluster. Dolf didn't like him very much. He cleared his throat pointedly and spoke up, looking at Maksim. "I've got a rule. I don't want to see that," he announced, gesturing towards Oberoi and his display of muscly manliness. "Otherwise, sounds fair. Not like we'll be spending much time here, hm?"

As Dolf turned back to unpack the rest of his things, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and frowned at his reflection. His hair was sticking out in that terrible place it always did. But, great — there was no way he could fix it now after making fun of Arjan for it. Slowly, subtly, he reached up and combed his fingers through the problem area, groaning as it jumped back up again.

Anything else he'd been thinking of could wait. This hair thing was a serious issue now. Dolf slid over on his bed for a better view of himself in the mirror and got to work on fixing it.