Eviction Notice PV with Hans Jenssen

In a sense he was glad for the attempt on his life as it gave the perfect excuse to not have to answer the lingering question that hung in the air moments before Hans drew his wand. The spellwork he showed was entirely impressive and only further confirmed that every judgement and criticism he had placed on the boy in two years had been completely unfounded. If he wasn't so desperately dead set on the thrill seeking of riding his glorified household sweeper around a track Nikolai might have seen a duellist spark within Hans spirit.

Nikolai found his gaze lingering on the boy for a second too long and almost lost himself to the moment until the flicker of embers began to run up his leg. Instinctually with a calming nature founded on the deepest set muscle memory Nik drew his wand and incanted swiftly "Extinguo" on the fraying tatters of his trouser leg. Another blessing he thought as it drew his attention firmly back towards the situation at hand. What was it about this boy that he had such an ability to capture his entire attention and hold him to it.

Watching as the black flames continued to writhe under Hans attack he coughed slightly to clear his throat before saying "Good job," sure not to make eye contact lest he be entrapped within it. As the flames grew and contorted the visage of his father once again lingered in his silhouette of ash but that act was getting old and Spring was a time to let go of the past. Clenching his wand and letting the magic build within him he stared the flames down claiming his duellist stance and summoning a well of energy to his hand the wand released a burst of red light illuminating the creasing shadowed darkness and ripping through it with the steadied voice of "Finite Incantatem" filling the silence. Flames shied away withering to bare flickers as he closed his eyes in accomplishment, yet the darkness was not yet done with him.

In an instantaneous retaliation the flames contorted themselves at the edge of his spell and flung their fiery blaze towards him where his arm still held an outstretched wand. Just managing to slightly singe the boy before he was able to retract shouting with an aggression built up from years of treatment. It wasn't possible, not really but regardless Nikolai was sure. He had been subjected to his fathers' magic enough times to know its cruelty and this was no different. Clutching at his arm he inspected it for damage but found only a surface level injury that would easily heal and shrugged it off with a look of pure indignation upon his face.

"If it wasn't mutual before, it certainly is now. Everything they touch is stained. But I won't be any longer." With that the now ferociously invigorated boy began kicking piles of boxes into the pile ridding himself of every shred of their existence within reach until it all melted away in the dark flames. With every kick his eyes hardened slightly the crackling lightning blue becoming a dark swirling storm but his smile was brimming with freeing glee. It was true no one could escape being a Volkov, so it was damn well good he wasn't planning on being one for a moment longer, not by name nor association, no matter if they begged for him back, Nikolai Volkov burned in that fire. No longer would his story be plagued by his blood, "cкатертью дорожка"

@Archer Duncan as Hans Jenssen

Translations:
cкатертью дорожка - Good Riddance
Direct Translation - I want you to get out from here and let your road be smooth and safe enough so I don't ever see you again.

Roleplaying as Hans Jenssen

Despite the fireball's persevering desire not to surrender, Hans flashed Nikolai a smug grin as gratitude for his compliment. He was about to respond with his own words of congratulations as the cursed thing finally spluttered into sparks, seemingly tamed by the duellist’s forceful hand. Yet they were delayed as the family of wolves had not decided to go easy on them. The flames convulsed violently after Nikolai follow-up of Finite Incantatem, raging back towards him, deep-rooted hatred from his parents drilled into this unpleasant surprise as much as anything else.

Hans took Nikolai's cry, more rage than pain, a torrent of emotion condensed into a shout, as a cue to step back and allow him some space. What depraved - what pathetic - wretch of a person would go as far as to send a curse (possibly fatal, no less) after a child, let alone their own? While he was glad Nikolai was no longer, something in his attitude that treated the threat with mere mild annoyance suggested this instance was not the first time he had been on the receiving end. Did they ostracise him for being the black sheep of the family, when they had been blatantly eating away at him? That fool, if only Nikolai had accepted his friendship, he would have supported him through whatever hell was plaguing his life. Instead, Hans’ attempts had been ignored and turned down, as if his self-alienation would have made them treat him any better. And if only Hans had considered another reason for his refusal other than the generic pureblood snobbery, perhaps he would have offered empathy with him earlier. He would rather think about more pleasant topics, but oh, how many levels this was messed up on.

So as he acted more invigorated than ever, kicking the boxes as if they were his mortal enemy - which they rightfully were - Hans regarded this former mere ghost of a boy with a mixture of sympathy, admiration and disbelief. While his own family had never exactly been a source for pride or agreeability, he deemed Nikolai's experiences unimaginable as he watched the boy fervour assaults on the unwelcome mementos from the household that had wronged him. The fruits that had borne him might have been rotten to the core, but Hans rejoiced thinking Nikolai had fallen an eternity away from the poisoned tree.

‘You doing good?’ He first paused to confirm. As good as someone in this mess could be, at least.

Now that the worst of the flames had passed, so would such grim thoughts. Vulnerability had never been the most conventional way to share a post-holiday chitchat section anyways. Shooting his newfound friend a triumphant smile at the havoc they had wrecked, Hans stretched as if the bonfire lit in signature teenage recklessness (here used merely as a euphemism for stupidity) had been nothing north of a walk in the park. He smiled invitingly and gestured for the blond to make himself comfortable as he himself reclined onto his bed, saying in a half jest, ‘Now that you’ve finally stopped with the sulking, we should get to properly know each other.’

Deciding he might as well lead the oblivious Nikolai in a general direction, Hans found himself taken aback at how little he knew of the boy before him except for the bare basics. Whenever he had miraculously somehow crept in conversation (or more accurately, gossip sessions), usually under some mildly insulting alias, Hans had batted his friends' inquiries away with an indifferent laugh, saying “Do you think I know any more than you do?” In these past months, he had convinced himself he could not care less about his dorm mate if all he offered in return was silence, yet now with their tension broken, his built-up curiosity could have bordered on insatiability. Instead of voicing his snarky thoughts on how both of their experiences would have been enhanced if only they had spoken, he asked, settling on the most common and least controversial of conversation starters, ‘So, what’s an interest of yours?’ Then pausing, he added with a jocular wink, ‘And please, you deserve more than something boring.’ Truthfully, the Russian probably had bigger fish to fry than jejune avocations, namely how he plans out to sort out his living situation and legal guardianship, but those concerns could go to hell and as they say anyhow, take it slow.

@Matthew Campbell as Nikolai Vol’ka

Momentarily distracted from the siege on his past belongings he turned to answer Hans' question and there wasn't a shred of doubt in his mind that it was the most truthful thing he had ever spoken, "Honestly? I truly don't think I've ever felt so fucking good." Tears of happiness almost began to fall but were forced back, it seems old habits do indeed die hard but still the very feeling of it told him how honest the realisation was. The triumphant smile his dormmate shot him in the following moments would be ingrained in his mind permanently alongside the carnage they had made of his previous life. A life that was barely lived.

A life that was barely lived. That was the catalyst that stuck in his head as Hans jovially invited him to join in an activity they both knew had never existed between them before. It felt tragically disheartening that they felt the need for an invitation in order to converse but at the same time it was so affirmingly wholesome that it had only taken minutes to forget years of silence. Nikolai hoped that eventually they would get to a point where words existed between them non stop. A point where he would know every part of Hans' life and even be a part of it.

That was when he hit him with the first question they ever had. The only way to describe the feeling that lingered in the air was odd. Two boys that had literally occupied the exact same space for almost 2 years didn't even know a single thing about each other. Well that wasn't entirely true, Nikolai knew that Hans was an athlete and broom racer with a great deal of popularity but anyone with a pulse knew that and he was quite sure it didn't make up the truth of him as an individual. The question required a worryingly deep level of thought and before he knew it he found himself spilling words he had no intention of speaking or knowledge he even felt, "You know I've just realised, that I don't think I know who I am. I've spent a whole life supposed to be something and now I haven't got to do anything but be me, whoever that is."

Throwing himself down atop his bed he looked utterly speechless but what could have been perceived through words as a depressing comprehension was actually incredulously freeing. Nikolai felt himself take a breath of life so deep he was sure he was reborn and before Hans could speak he warmly turned to him, "I love photography and history, even if you think its just old boring people doing crappy things. I love to swim and I find the forest the only place I can calm my mind. I've read more words than I've ever spoken to anyone in the world and I think non-magi clothes are the sickest things in the world but I've never had the opportunity to wear them. It's not much but it's a foundation to build on and maybe that's enough?" Questioning as he finished, both to himself and Hans who he hoped understood enough to see him for what he was trying to be and not who he was.

Tipping his head towards his new German friend? Nikolai considered offering him a jovial wink in return but if he was honest the only gestures his eyes were capable of mastering were one killer eye roll and a stare so withering it had left him perpetually alone. Instead he offered him a genuine smile and hurriedly spoke, "Oh! and one more thing I'm someone who would very much like to get to know the person who tried his very best to get me to open up despite constant disregard and is willing to even after it all." There was a genuine sorrow for his actions but it never made his features seem sad just thankful, in fact where Nikolai's features were once cold and harsh now a lightness grew that rivalled even the infernos spark. A lightness that was here to stay.

@Archer Duncan as Hans Jenssen

Roleplaying as Hans Jenssen

“I'm glad,” Hans chuckled as he met Nikolai's words with a devilish smile. Eyes gleaming brightly with something more than just reflected firelight as he turned to regard his newly reborn dorm mate, it struck him that it had only been a matter of less than an hour since they were still ghosts in each other's half- or far-from-that-fulfilled lives. Like the fire that burned away at Nikolai's past, the tension between them was finally melting as if it was ice cream sitting out in a hot midsummer's day: proof that arson was a much more effective icebreaker than those classroom games teachers employ.

Then Hans would have been too naïve to realise what catalyst had hit his own subconscious. Having rarely been subjected to such talk, he let the words slip past his mind - only to come back and perturb him come summertime, that is. A curious case of a boy moulded more by society than himself - would he even stop to question himself: how exhausting was holding up a mask in front of everyone? Him too - does he not yearn for more than just a product of society? Still a clean slate, plastic-wrapped and fit for adaptation, his canvas seemed to be devoid of the colours it had the potential to boast. What even was he supposed to be? To his parents: their hardworking Muggle child; to his friends: the confident, loyal athlete; to the Wizarding World: an eager boy finding a place in this foreign realm. If that was as far away as from who he reply was as he thought, who was he - Hans? And how would he find the words he defined rather than defined himself?

Listening intently as Nikolai described himself, he found it an excuse to distract himself when every word he spoke melted away at an assumption he had for the untalkative boy. “I haven’t swam in some time,” Hans admitted as he swallowed the unexpected but unwelcome nostalgia that followed. “I’d like to do it again as the weather gets warmer, not for competition like before but just for fun.” Pulling open the drawer at his mention at interest in Muggle clothing - on this he was unable to see eye to eye with the pure-blood, he gestured at the tasteless clothing his parents supplied, “I can always lend you one if you want. But sure, that's a solid enough place to start.”

Receiving the question back as he knew he would, he pondered in thought before answering. It was difficult to sum up his entire existence in the matter of a few sentences nor without delving into topics he was not particularly in the mood for today - as if he ever was, but he did his best to do at least some of the aspects justice. With words well chosen, Hans said, “I think flying is the awesomest thing to ever exist. The sky to me is like the forest to you, and I find peace in thinking I could own the whole world. And just eating takeout or playing UNO” - referring to two things Nikolai probably had no idea about - “with my friends is the second. Oh- and UNO is a card game. I have it in my desk by the way if you ever want to play it. Also, I love a good joke but I hate people who do so at the expense of others. What else? I have a scar on my knee from the time I crashed into a patch of roses when I was biking.”

Pausing to look Nikolai in the eye as he directly addressed him, “…And, I love a person who is passionate, even if I thought I couldn’t possibly have any interest in what they’re talking about. Nikolai, can you tell me about what you like to read?”

@Matthew Campbell as Nikolai Vol'ka

With the mention of so many foreign concepts an uncontrollable curiosity lit up the young Russian widening his eyes and forcing him to lean off the bed closer to his new compatriot. So many concepts that in the non-magi world were probably as common as wands for wixen drifted over his head completely conjuring wild visions of their meanings. Nikolai knew in the moment that he would undoubtedly be forcing Hans to show him this UNO and as for his clothes it brought a smile to his face when offered to share. The young pureblood had often debated looking through his roommates drawers just to bare witness to the range of choice he was provided, what seemed tactless to the athlete was in his eye rather viewed as expressionism.

Choice was never something present in the ex-Volkov's life and yet now here he perched veering on the edge of a bed but feeling far more like the precipice of something more. For while his dormmate offers to most would seem fairly inconsequential for Nikolai the very concept of free will was imbued in each outstretched hand. How would the heir live his life now that he was unshackled from the bonds of his family, he was unsure, but whatever form it took he had a feeling Hans would be right there alongside him and on many occasions likely leading him.

"Also, I love a good joke but I hate people who do so at the expense of others." It was interesting just how much of a misjudgement he had placed upon the younger boy. Truth be told he likely should have felt guilty but in his defence given the boys popularity and company kept he assumed Hans to be far more similar to the socialites of Durmstrang. Yet with his words Nikolai was sure now they both walked through life bearing masks. Silently he hoped that with time both of the boys could let go of forced personas seeing what lay at the depths of one another but Rome wasn't built in a day. For now he could just let his heart flutter in the joy of knowing Hans' playful kindness.

A hearty laugh ripped the air as he described his floral accident that was soon silenced by the directness of Hans' next statement. Holding the stare between them Nikolai was sure the lightning of his eyes were crackling to bright light with each word and in turn his cheeks reddened softly. Going to speak he found his voice had completely forgotten function and so clearing his throat he made eye contact with the trunk he had personally packed filled to the brim with his only prized possessions. Then passionately he spoke his entire body animated in excitement to discuss a topic he loved more than life, "I love a great deal of books from many genres. Some of my favourite authors are classic Russian writers, Leo Tolstoy of course, then you have Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn and Aleksandr Herzen, and not to mention Fyodor Dostoevsky particularly 'White Nights' it helped me through a lot of lonely nights plus it's set in my home... well my old home."

The pain stung a little more than he expected but refusing to allow it to settle he continued on his tangent inspiring him to move erratic in motion opening his case to pull out three books. "Then there's the ancient Greeks I must admit I've always been partial to that period of history and particularly Homer. 'The Odyssey' will always be a classic though the modern retelling of Achilles and Patroclus by Madeline Miller was devastating. I haven't been allowed to access many non-magi books but my brothers bought me these for Christmas!" Swooping over to where Hans sat he considered placing himself down next to him but with every fibre of his being buzzing with electricity already he at last second decided against and simply offered him two books.

"'The Well of Loneliness' by Radclyffe Hall another classic and 'The Lost Apothecary' by Sarah Penner which actually was only released a few years ago and while I haven't had much exposure to modern writing it has been surprisingly pleasant. I look forward to the first time I can enter a bookstore and not have to worry about what I'm buying." As he passed the books along it left only one remaining in his hand that seemed worn with love and in the skew of its pages curvature light writing could be spotted between the pages. Years of annotations telling a tale of hours of poured attention and devotion. "Then I guess comes my favourite, 'The Picture of Dorian Gray' by Oscar Wilde. I don't know how many times I've read it but no matter how much I do there's always something new." Clutching the copy to his heart he held it with such care despite its worn appearance.

Then unable to quell the potential excitement from his tone he asked, "Do you read much Hans? Also sorry I got a little distracted but maybe we can go swimming together sometime? It's cool that you did competitions was that in the non-magi world? Oh and I also haven't actually ever flown before isn't that crazy I want to, at least I think I do... maybe not quite yet but in time!" Accidentally it seemed that in forgiving Nikolai and engaging him in arson he had unleashed the flood gates that had frozen tight so long ago and now whether he liked it or not the golden retriever boy was in full swing. Nik couldn't recall the last time he had such a passionate conversation with someone, other than Valentin no one in recent times had ever really wanted to hear anything from him. Now he had a voice again and he would be damned if he wasn't going to use it.

Roleplaying as Hans Jenssen

Smile spreading as he leaned forward it was evident that the small trunk of bound paper lit up Nikolai's life more than anything. The most keen he had ever seen the usually passive boy, Hans was glad to have asked the question, even if some of the authors’ names flew by his ears without particularly registering. Tolstoy, Solzhenitsyn, Herzen, Dostoevsky, dusty old books full of dusty old stories, as he used to think of them. His teachers had brushed past them if they had ever touched on them, returning to their dull lectures as soon as anything mildly interesting seemed to have been introduced. Never before had he seen anyone talk of them so vibrantly and full of a passion refusing to be dwelled. Despite the painful turn he recognised at the uneasy mention of home, it was still as if the ink on their pages were the very blood that flowed through his veins.

Accepting the two books as Nikolai reached out to offer them, his eyes first scanned over the cover depicting a heart shaped bow, a design that failed to capture his attention. Instead his gaze slipped to the second book with ship among tempestuous waters, a long-haired, wild-eyed man stood at the helm who he thought must be Odysseus facing a swarm of bird-ladies. Fingers tracing the grooves and rises of gold foil, Hans looked up suddenly and, tone still kept casual despite the deeper thoughts his memory triggered, he asked, “The Odyssey is about coming home isn’t it? That’s a rather nice theme.” In a way he admired Odysseus, or what little he remembered of him, not only for his perseverance but more the faith that home would still be right there and waiting. Where was his Ithaca, and if he was to spend ten years away from it, would he truly bother to spend another ten years journeying through an ocean of turmoil trying to find his way back?

But Hans’ thoughts were jolted back out of the depths he had never appreciated as three more books were passed along to him. The first two were unfamiliar and his gaze simply skipped past them without much consideration, but the final one struck a bell as Nikolai spoke of his love for it. ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’, the story of a troubled though beautiful young man he had either flipped through or read some summary on. The plot was blurred in his mind, but, finding a piece of gothic fiction as dark as it was an odd choice for a preferred read, his curiosity still got the better of him. “And this is about a drawing that grows uglier and uglier as the subject’s heart gets corrupted, right? Why is this particular one your favourite?” Even if his tastes were odd, there was a certain beauty in getting to know someone Hans thought he would never even speak to.

When asked for his own reading habits, he answered, “Probably not as often as you read but I do enjoy it when I do. I am a big fan of sci-fi: ‘the Martian’, ‘Dune’, 'Ender’s Game’, also some of the newer stuff as well, but I would have to say I love ‘the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’ most. Have you ever read that?” Hans had picked up his first science fiction read thinking laser blasters and racing starships were the coolest things ever. Despite having now seen much more of the world to easily claim otherwise, the childhood whimsy still clung on tight and urged him to borrow out anything with the familiar futuristic elements he had loved since a child. While the Institute’s library offered limited options, he pulled out the four favourites aforementioned and laid them down between them just as Nikolai had done.

Cool was a loosely-used word of debatable nature but Hans made no comment on the sport he once devoted his entire energy into and now left behind as just another era of his life to forget and move on from. He could not deny without undermining how much genuine fun he had with his swim team or how many friends he had made, or it had, whether he wanted to or not, shaped him into who he was today. Simply swallowing down his words, he replied simply, “Yeah, that was. I went to one last summer actually. But yeah, sure, I would love to go swimming someday. Admittedly I haven’t found anyone sharing that particular interest at Durmstrang yet.” Although surprised at how Nikolai had never flown before, despite being blessed with such privileges as the opportunities that came with being born into magic, he said nothing but a remark with his signature goodnatured snark, “You should try it sometime. I’m sure your broom is kind enough not to throw you off.”

Despite all his doubts about Nikolai for the year they spent enveloped in a suffocating silence, it had not taken long for Hans to recognise him just as any other and to restart anew and untainted by the past. He was not the aloof little ghost who had left a sour taste in his mouth since the first day Hans had stepped foot into his dormitory, but more commendably someone who had the potential to overcome the stain time had left unwashed. Having always had the affinity to see the positive side, whether it be of situations or people, he had no qualms with the sudden but welcome invitation all the same. Before him was an open door, and like any entrance he would not hesitate to dive right in.

@Matthew Campbell as Nikolai Vol'ka

Nikolai's face practically lit to pure sunshine with the question, he had long since wanted to opportunity to discuss works of fiction with a friend but never believed he'd get the chance. Far too eagerly he began speaking all while holding a gaze that didn't hint of any superiority at his lack of knowledge on the text but rather the emotionality of someone who had carved his own soul into the pages much like Dorian, "I suppose it's because what Dorian craves is how my life felt for so very long and the very opposite of what I wanted yet I still understood the notion. I wasn't more than a trophy, a portrait in the family gallery of their creation, I was to be seen but never heard and all that mattered was my image. The image they wanted to present me as. I wasn't sure who I was without that image as I never dreamed I'd have the luxury to find out. My life was set to be immortalised in oil and entombed in a gilded frame, likely it now is. Honestly I imagine my family will claim me dead so as to avoid the disgrace of truth that I have been turned away."

Feeling rather vulnerable from the realisation that hadn't even occurred to him until the words were before him he found himself seeking refuge in his own analysis of the text intending to distract Hans from the cruelness, "I often found myself wondering what I would sell my own soul for. Anyways, I guess rather than the image becoming uglier as the story progresses I saw it as it becoming more truthful, more honest, the true depiction of a human soul. For we all have differing beauties on the outside but within we are scarred with every wound of the past. But isn't knowing someone as intimately as that far more beautiful than a portrait of perfection. Dorian can't see what's in front of him as his life has been consumed by vanity but we as the reader get to evaluate its place and learn from his mistakes, his corruption, to bring about change in our own lives." When he finally finished he found his eyes drawn away from the forgiving boy before him and down to the cover not wanting to be seen in the way he had just naturally opened to. It was all too quick.

Lightening the mood seemed the only option so that Hans wouldn't press any deeper "Sorry that was probably a rather boring philosophical tangent, maybe you were luckier than you thought for not knowing me before today." The joke was said with all the lightness of air but Nikolai secretly worried that it was probably more accurate than not. Maybe silence was better than revealing himself as an insufferable bookworm. In truth Nikolai had long since answered his own question from the book, he would have sold his soul in a second for a chance to live like he was to now, though he supposed in the deepest wishes that his original dream was to do so as acceptance not from banishment.

As vulnerable as he had been he hadn't managed to convey one of the most poignant points of the book that always drew him like a moth to flame. Wilde was long since held as a martyrdom for his acceptance of his own sexuality and Dorian was widely believed to be a portrayal of a gay man in society. It was the first and only real fictious portrayal of how he felt in his heart in literature and as such his heart yearned for it. However, that was not a place he was ready to go yet, Hans and he were just starting to get onto the right foot and they weren't lacking in hurdles to overcome as it stood. No Nikolai couldn't put himself in a place to be rejected again so quickly. He wouldn't.

Thankfully by some miracle they eventually moved on with Hans' own tastes and the nervous bursts of anxiety muddled into pure confusion and thrill at the discovery of "Sci-fi" Planets painted the covers in bright colours and bold texts, some planets he had studied in Astronomy classes but some of which he didn't recognise like the Dune cover that drew his eye. Taken aback by his lack of knowledge on the subject rather more frustratingly than a regular person would be he found himself awkwardly asking Hans for an explanation, "I'm sorry I can't say that I've read any of them. If I'm being honest I don't really think I've ever heard of sci-fi what does it mean? It is some kind of analysis of space and the wider cosmos they all seem illustrated towards the wider universe?" Dreams of Nikolai being able to share favoured texts with the boy died in his ignorance and he wished adamantly that he had in fact sold his soul all those years ago when he first met Dorian.

Of course the young Russian knew he was overthinking things but once he began to spiral it was a struggle to get off the train. Yet, as was becoming a normality, Hans showed no outward judgement when he spoke and after he answered his questions he moved on to swimming as if their conversation was just natural to him. Guilt surfaced at thoughts of all the times the two of them could have bonded over their common interest, yet, even if he'd known would it have changed things or would he have remained hidden. If any of the past weeks events had altered even slightly would they be uniting here as friends or still just living shadows in the other's life. Before his mind could derail the conversation continued moving onto the far more wizarding sport of flying. Nikolai had to hold back a scoff at the notion of kindness given its lack of presence in his existence but then remembering he didn't have to he let it loose staring at the Nimbus that lay against the wall, "Are you sure about that? You saw the ring for all we know the broom is cursed too. It probably was before all this, we were forbidden from ever riding in case we were injured I wouldn't be surprised if it was hexed or jinxed as a preventative measure."

A smile beginning to refill his features with the light that had dimmed consumed by his own anxieties he chose to be brave. From the events of his spring holiday he knew he was capable and as much as he could compulsively frustrate himself over his past actions it wouldn't change them. This was an opportunity to do that, to form a connection and make a friendship that he could actually deserve. Quietly building with his thoughts his voice broke free"It's a shame I didn't know you swam, there's a lake I go to in the forest so that's probably why we've never seen each other. It was always easier to be away from people or I think I deluded myself into believing that at least but I'm not sure it's true now. I hope this is really a new start for us, and not just because I'm hoping you'll lend me your books!" Winking at the end he felt himself come more alive with the jesting spirit Hans had down to a fine art.

Roleplaying as Hans Jenssen

Contrary to how Nikolai’s face had positively lit up as he spoke impassioned about the novel, a small frown forced its way onto Hans’ brows. Here was probably why he had always found the talking portraits sold at various magical shops unsettling. If he had compared himself to Dorian’s tendency for crime Nikolai might have received a scoffing smirk at most, but his description, vivid as if he had been waiting a lifetime to share them - though more so vulnerable than anything - of image and trophies sounded not only horrible but, having observed the social scene at Durmstrang, much more believable and much more relevant. He was yet to experience firsthand exactly how fucked up the pureblood hierarchy was, but then again had he not been presenting himself as an image in an ironic effort against it? Not truly understanding or perhaps simply not wanting to understand his pensive dorm mate’s further thoughts, Hans usually tried not to consider all the complexities of human nature for the wellbeing of his sanity. Still early into his youth he would like to think of himself unscarred - and he probably was. But when did he ever display a truthful depiction of himself? And selling his soul? However was he supposed to respond to that? No thanks?

Allowing himself to ease after the heavy talk as he physically relaxed into a shifted position, a smile, casual as ever, was flashed at the blond. Of course there were still questions at his explanation, and once again the single one he did not ask raced through his mind: what had he done so unforgivably wrong that he was banished from even his own family? Oh someone spare him from these thoughts this bright afternoon. And there came his perfect interjection; chuckling at Nikolai’s humour - still it came as a surprise from the boy he thought could never have smiled, he was glad for his openness, even if it came as long-winded to some or was strong enough to start causing existential crises. It was nowhere near boring. In fact, to rephrase, a little too far from the familiar topics he weaved discussions so well with for his taste.

While his knowledge of literature seemed thorough, it still came as no surprise that Nikolai was foreign to sci-fi, and Hans was happy to explain despite his evident disinterest of literary analysis inside the classroom. The relief, whether of having shared or having finished sharing, went both ways as they moved on. “Kind of? It stands for science fiction though of course, being fiction, there’s some expansion to other universes. Like Dune is set on a planet called Arrakis, and it’s actually 20,000 years into our future. Some seem more relatable, like the Martian, which is about a person stranded on Mars, and it’s only 11 years in the future. I think sci-fi authors love to set their stories in the future, but then again there’s also Star Wars. It’s a film with the famous starting line of ‘a long long time ago in a galaxy far far away’.” He paused to find words for over why he enjoyed the stories as much as he did, and eventually said with a laugh and a vague gesture, “Anyway, like fantasy, I think they’re tailored towards those who dream, with all the potential human technology could take us put onto pages. But you know, they seem cooler than fantasy.” Not exactly a philosophy course, but perhaps after all Nikolai delivered, it was a good thing.

Odd what unexpected directions such an offhand comment had let the young Nikolai, but Hans followed with reassurance nevertheless. “I was just joking, but if you ever want to do it for real tell me. And if you’re really worried about it being hexed, I don’t see why you can’t just use a school broom.” Hiding his brief doubt, he lingered over whether or not to offer his own. Nikolai had been nothing but honest since his first word of the day - or rather, much more accurately, his first word of the year, yet it was that exact lukewarm haughtiness that moved him to stop and reconsider. Polished and cleaned as meticulously as it was, it was a prized possession, partly for the money and partly for the meaning. Yet the fostering and - more often than he would have preferred - breaking of trust was a rollercoaster of a show to watch, but more so a pain to experience. Finally, voice light and welcoming as it always was as if there had been no consideration at all, he decided, “And of course you can borrow my broom as long as you take good care of it.”

Hans’ own heartening as Nikolai’s frown inverted into a gleaming smile, there was a gladness in the realisation Nikolai was just as any other he might call a friend, rather than the self-conceited, aloof little heir he once thought he was. They both knew well how many chances on friendship they had missed out on. “Well, might’ve been a shame in the past but now we know! Though Durmstrang isn’t exactly a fit place for a lake day, going together sometime should be a fun distraction.” He said with a chuckle. Nikolai’s next remark demanded he halt for more thought, so therefore he did the exact opposite and glossed over the subject. Deluded or not, there was nothing wrong with thinking it was easier to be away from people - if so, the introverts who took up, what, 50% of the world, could be damned. However, people often proved to particularly helpful if he wanted to spice things up. With so many fish in the sea, he could have not cared less for one, but after all the effort Nikolai had put into burning down his icy defences, it was difficult not to be touched. Gesturing at the books with glinting eyes, he said, “I hope so too, but for now, take your pick.”

@Matthew Campbell as Nikolai Vol’ka

Nikolai supposed that Hans was right about the school not exactly being the picturesque lake setting and yet there was something so intoxicating about the frozen waters of its surroundings. Swimming in heat was certainly a more enjoyable activity for the masses but the piercingly cold water was almost like swimming for the soul to the boy. Nikolai often yearned for the stinging sensation you felt under the freezing embrace. The chilling sensation always reminded him that he was alive and he spent so often out there even the initial shock dulled from acclimatisation. Perhaps it simply felt nicer to prove himself colder externally than internally.

"I would like that a lot, I've not much experience in fun but I will do my best.", flashing a playful grin as he joked he wondered if he could get used to the lightness he felt. Even if it didn't last forever there was a semblance of peace that came with the hope, a hope Hans only reinforced with his kindness. Having offered him both his broom and now his books Nikolai wondered how the boy could be so forgiving. It seemed entirely unnatural in comparison to his experience but then far more sorrowfully he wondered if his experience had been the exception rather than the rule. His troubled mind never met the surface though as Hans' glinting eyes and soft chuckles kept his smile ablaze.

Pondering over the four books he considered them all carefully with the aforementioned descriptions still fresh in his brain. The future was a concept Nikolai only recently began to think of as a positive for it held within it so much possibility. That possibility had long since been forced out of him but no longer and so in the covers he saw a new beginning. Something about the 'Dune' book called to him but he had a lifetime to discover these stories and for now the aim was to foster his friendship, letting it grow and bloom.

Bright eyed he picked up 'A Hitchhiker's Guide to The Galaxy' saying, "Might as well start with your favourite!" His friendly tone becoming more genuine as he continued, "Thank you for sharing them with me, and for offering the broom too it's very generous of you. I wish I had more to offer in return but I think it might be a little late." Flipping his head towards the ash pile that still smouldered with the Volkov remains he couldn't help but laugh heartily. Then attempting a more boisterous cheeky expression he turned and teased, "Can I use your broom to sweep that up, that counts as taking good care of it right."

It was very clear to him from the reverent way Hans' eyes fell on the item just how precious to him it was and although he would never truly use it for such means he couldn't help but reach toward it in jest. Laughing as he did with a volume that only increased with the other boys reaction he returned his gaze towards the pile and with a slightly more downtrodden reaction said, "Really though I suppose I should probably clear that up now, it seemed like such a good idea before I had to clean it up." Laying the book caringly on his bed he grabbed his fur lined robes to protect against the chill of the late afternoon air and turned once more towards the boy he now regarded as a friend, "Hope to see you later?" It was both a question and a statement of intent and quietly in his mind he promised to make true on it.

@Archer Duncan as Hans Jenssen

Roleplaying as Hans Jenssen

“Good choice,” Hans said, watching with shared delight at Nikolai’s appreciation even over something as simple, “I do hope you enjoy it. The wordplay especially is quite clever.”

“Of course! And don’t worry about giving something in return, for God’s sake we’re not doing a business deal,” Hans reassured, tone lighthearted. Brushing away his gesture at the destruction in front of them, he could not care less for the broken property that rightfully belonged to the past. After all fire was permanent, and having seen that cursed ring that was a nature Hans had no qualms with. Despite the dismissive laugh, he said, “Oh come now, what do you mean late? There’s so much ahead isn’t there Nikolai?” Expression turning upside-down into a scowl at his joke, he glared at Nikolai with feigned menace and shot back in smug return, “If you want to sure, quite convenient actually, I can just beat you with it when you’re done.” With an idle smile as Nikolai’s bright laughter rang through the room, Hans’ eyes followed his dorm mate with glad intent.

Snickering at the comment, Hans smirked, “At least we got rid of those curtains, that in of itself should be worth all the celebration.” Genuineness evident in his voice despite the jest and rash boldness of their actions, he continued, “It would be well worth the clean. That was fun. I’m glad we did this.” Without question arson was a thrilling endeavour, but the events of that spring day extended beyond whatever teenage longing for rebellion and crime. Their old relationship - if it could even be called that - had gone with the raging inferno and bid them adieu. Hans had wholeheartedly meant it when he said there was still so much in front of the two, and the past could be forgotten for all he cared. That fire had not solely been in the name of pyromania. From it spawned not just demolition but growth.

Then picking up the comic book and returning to where he had stopped, he read as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. Yet it did not take an incredibly keen eye to notice the addition of a smile as he lifted his head to reply, “Sure. If you need a hand let me know, otherwise, dinner should be served soon enough, no?” Despite the flames having just died out, the room did not feel as icy nor barren as it used to, and Nikolai was more than a stranger tainting Hans’ life with his coldness. Rather, a friend, in spite of the unlikely circumstances, perhaps, they could hope, strengthened by unlikely circumstances; the dragon, as he called himself, reborn through fire. 


@Matthew Campbell as Nikolai Vol’ka