28 Dec 2021, 23:43
Boiling Point
Mikael stared at the pale wisp of a boy. Who could have guessed such an insignificant waif of a boy could run him around in circles. The boy looked down at the thumb covered in his blood. Slowly the boy brought his finger to sniff it. The stench of blood overran his senses and brought a weird taste to his tongue. The boy felt a sigh building his throat as the other repeated his sentiment. Though, he swallowed down the sigh keeping a stoic expression. He could not lose himself to the feelings that pulled at his heart. Such insignificant wisps that attempted to sink hooks at the muscle and tissue that made up his heart.
He wished there was a way to guard himself against these half-hearted attempts. Though, it seemed that the more time he spent with Yefim the more he was changed. When had he let Yefim sink claws of recognition and camaraderie? When had he stopped being so impartial to life? It was not just Yefim who seemed to have this effect on him. As much as he wanted to deny it, Valentin also had an effect on him. Valentin seemed to pull something out of him from amongst the pond of black sludge. A thick and hot anger that seemed far too intense for the likes of him.
The boy felt as if he was in a foreign body more so than usual. Mikael had gotten used to looking into the dirty mirror and seeing nothing more than a mask of porcelain. Though, over these past few years, it seemed as if the fragile china had been chipped away. Slowly but surely as if someone were taking chisels to it. Cracking away at his defense against the twisted darkness that threatened to break free from the china. Mikael stared back at Valentin studying him at him as his eyes were lit with a burning flame. He wondered if it was Valentin and Yefim that held the chisels within their clasps. Taking away normality with something dangerous and seething. He could not be too sure, but these feelings of his had only existed when they had come into his life.
Mikael cleared his throat free of the sludge that hung heavy in his throat, and he began to wonder if it would be black. Would it not make sense if he bled black as well? The boy stared at the other as blue and violet locked together in a heated battle. No words would come to him as he watched the other boy lung toward him. It seemed as if this fight of there's could not be finished. More blood had to be spilled in order to sate something that crawled deep inside him. Something that he was sure Valentin had crawling around inside him as well. The boy quickly pointed his wand at the boy in hopes of landing a spell before the other could tackle him to the ground. "Flipendo!" he would call out.
Russian (Default) | Norwegian | EnglishMentions: @Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood [Valentin "Der Niffler" Schnell],
Mentioning: @Flash Holmwood [Yefim Rumyantsev]
|PC: Percival Rainwood
4 Jan 2022, 06:21
Boiling Point
Back in the good old days, Niffler practiced seeking the golden snitch on moonless nights. He started this peculiar habit in the fashion of the eternal tryhard who practiced both night and day, in any weather the heavens could manifest. Alone in the dark and cold, Valentin felt he had discovered another realm-- an underworld in the sky. Hunting through the great black void, this pale wizard yearned to find the tiny gold orb even though it could barely glint under the meager starlight. Looking into Mikael’s eyes now, Valentin felt the chill of those nights return. They were the same.
Valentin had a gift for finding hidden things, including the precious things people kept behind barriers of cloth or lockbox or, most difficult of all, behind their eyes. Light grey-violet against dark blue-grey, the boys’ gazes locked together like clashing stag antlers. Yes, something was there in Valentin’s eyes as well, crawling around like a blind pit demon. Valentin could see it in Mikael as well, that hungering darkness. Yet, Valya knew it was not the only force within Mik’s struggle. No, the pale mage had seen it before, the glint of gold that seemed to call to him through the void inside of Mikael.
Dark-haired Mik tried to launch a flipendo, but even at risk of being struck, Valya could not break his gaze away and did not try to dodge. Mik’s spell sizzled out, incomplete. Valentin never understood why he was so compelled to seek the gold of the snitch. Just so, Valentin knew not why he sought the glint inside of Mik’s shadow realm now, but his soul demanded it. Powerless in the surge of this calling, Valya’s arm extended, conjuring flame as if to burn away the walls between them.
Valentin’s incendio duo spiraled in a double column towards the focus of his attention, Mikael’s face. It struck, though lightly, and Mikael caught fire [70 damage and with risk of further burning for one round]. The internal damage done before, when Valentin collided with the table corner, continued to ache and bend the thin white mage over to one side [416 HP remaining] as he tried to lessen the pain. Mik was also worse for wear from Valya’s earlier punch, but now he had greater harm upon him as he burned [580 HP remaining].
Knowing the pain Valentin had channeled at those dark blue eyes, the seeker’s legs moved forward. Over the course of the duel, something had changed in Valentin. Through the sacrificial rites of blood and fire, Valentin’s fear of losing Yefim had burned away in purification. Now with the total confidence of devotion, Valentin knew he would earn the right to Yefim’s friendship, and still he hungered for more. Another battle was at hand, and Valentin would not relent. He had to get closer, beyond the barriers, where the gold spark lie inside of Mikael.
Mentions: @Percival Rainwood @Flash Holmwood
20 Mar 2022, 05:44
Boiling Point
Mikael's jaw would tighten with annoyance as he watched his spell completely and utterly fail him. Thankfully the spell had not backfired on him, but this would not damper the pang of frustration and disappointment that filled the dark void in his very soul. Mikael would lick at his chapped lips absentmindedly. A pang sprang forth before he dully remembered he had split his lip. The sharp pang brought back a focus and determination within him. He could not give up now. When he had so much to prove.
The thought gave him pause, his brows furrowing as he studied the white-haired boy. What was he trying to prove exactly? At first, it had made sense that he was doing this to show Valentin that he did not deserve to be close to Yefim. Though, now as he stood there bloody, a part of him wondered if it was he who had to prove that he deserved to be near Yefim. To prove himself worthier than the thin twig of a boy in front of him. It had seemed so easy in the beginning. Of course, he was worthier than the other, but now... Standing here bleeding and out of breath from their fight. A part of him wondered how much worthier he truly was, and that part of himself was terrified. Mikael gritted his jaw tight as he stared at the other with a determined look. He was not too sure what he would do if he lost Yefim. To be shunned away from him as if he meant nothing more than dust to the other. There was only one option for him then. He needed to win.
Blood. The strong metallic taste welled into his slightly parted lips. Staining his teeth a reddish color to match. Blood dripped freely from his nose, but he could not bring it within himself to wipe it away. Especially, when it would be easily replaced with more. Mikael knew that him and Valentin were not that much different. Both of them were the rivers of blood that flowed into the greedy mouth of Yefim. Though not truly greedy as Yefim deserved every ounce of their blood. Willing to give but so easily replaced. Maybe that was the truest reasoning behind this fight of theirs. A fight for survival. A fight for irreplaceability.
Mikael swallowed thickly as he stared at the boy's unreadable face. His arm had lowered ever so slightly after his failed attempt of a spell. The boy began to move his arm up as he watched the other boy's arm move. He truly had meant to be quicker, but by the time he began to cast a counterspell, it was too late. Mikael's eyes widened as he watched green flames shoot out towards him. The spell hit him square in the face. Mikael stumbled back as shooting firey pain hit him like a sack of bricks. It reminded him of the time he had gotten stung during a broom race. The boy let out a pained cry as he gripped at his skin. The pain was far too similar to that drasted wasp. Mikael barely payed attention as he heard Valentin cast something. One second he was writhing about on the ground, and the next he simply wasn't. He wished the pain would have stopped as well.
Russian (Default) | Norwegian | EnglishMentions: @Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood [Valentin "Der Niffler" Schnell],
Mentioning: @Flash Holmwood [Yefim Rumyantsev]
PC: Percival Rainwood
21 Mar 2022, 18:47
Boiling Point
Mikael was burning. Valentin’s ‘friend,’ cold as he may be, cried out in pain, gripping his own skin as the pretty face corroded in flame at Valentin’s bidding. Silver-violet eyes locked on target, an eagle’s claws sinking into flesh. Thin Valya lacked for physical strength as well as arcane power, so the spell’s severity was basic, but Valya made up for these weaknesses with his powerful strategic mind. It was like setting up the enemy in quidditch-- calculated entrapment. Mik, writhing in pain, succumbed to Valya’s coldly stated Petrificus totalus. From his fancy burning face down to his toes, Mikael petrified in place.
«Прекрасное застывшее пламя» (“Lovely frozen flame,”) remarked Valentin at the surreal scene of a burning man who could no longer even writhe. From here, Valya could let the flames continue to burn and occasionally reconjure them until Mik fell unconscious. Approaching the side of Mik’s burning face, Valentin whispered in the boy’s ear. Even through the sound of the flame, the smooth, quicksilver voice Valentin inherited from his mother, the famous singer, sunk in audibly: «шах и мат» (“checkmate.”)
Stepping back, Valya looked on as if observing a fine painting. He knew it hurt like hell. Yet, it was part of the beauty Mik shared with Valentin, and Valya wouldn’t take that away from him now. The two had bled and shattered themselves against the earth and yearned for victory as Durmstrang’s esteemed quidditch force of nature, back before the team broke apart. Valya knew Mik was tough as hell; going easy on him now would have been an act of pure disrespect. Taking a step forward, Valentin looked through the flames into Mikael’s dark blue eyes, into their night sky, straining his violet eyes as if trying to make out the first stars.
Somewhere in there flickers a golden spark, thought Valentin. He knew it in his seeker gut, just like they both knew of the gold inside Yefim. It wasn’t a question for Valentin if Mikael was worthy of Yefim. Greedy niffler that he was, Valentin yearned for both golden glints, and would not settle for the friendship of only one of them. In the heat of the spilled blood and licking flame, Valentin’s resolve dissolved his self doubt. Even if it killed him, he would win them over, both. This was what he was born for.
The clarity of Valentin’s victory made any further words about Yefim unnecessary. It would have been like telling someone the sky was blue. No, Valya loved and respected the beauty inside Mikael and would not mar the sacredness of this battle. Wand arm hanging idle at his side, Valentin prepared himself to wait for Mikael to burn until unconsciousness.
«Прекрасное застывшее пламя» (“Lovely frozen flame,”) remarked Valentin at the surreal scene of a burning man who could no longer even writhe. From here, Valya could let the flames continue to burn and occasionally reconjure them until Mik fell unconscious. Approaching the side of Mik’s burning face, Valentin whispered in the boy’s ear. Even through the sound of the flame, the smooth, quicksilver voice Valentin inherited from his mother, the famous singer, sunk in audibly: «шах и мат» (“checkmate.”)
Stepping back, Valya looked on as if observing a fine painting. He knew it hurt like hell. Yet, it was part of the beauty Mik shared with Valentin, and Valya wouldn’t take that away from him now. The two had bled and shattered themselves against the earth and yearned for victory as Durmstrang’s esteemed quidditch force of nature, back before the team broke apart. Valya knew Mik was tough as hell; going easy on him now would have been an act of pure disrespect. Taking a step forward, Valentin looked through the flames into Mikael’s dark blue eyes, into their night sky, straining his violet eyes as if trying to make out the first stars.
Somewhere in there flickers a golden spark, thought Valentin. He knew it in his seeker gut, just like they both knew of the gold inside Yefim. It wasn’t a question for Valentin if Mikael was worthy of Yefim. Greedy niffler that he was, Valentin yearned for both golden glints, and would not settle for the friendship of only one of them. In the heat of the spilled blood and licking flame, Valentin’s resolve dissolved his self doubt. Even if it killed him, he would win them over, both. This was what he was born for.
The clarity of Valentin’s victory made any further words about Yefim unnecessary. It would have been like telling someone the sky was blue. No, Valya loved and respected the beauty inside Mikael and would not mar the sacredness of this battle. Wand arm hanging idle at his side, Valentin prepared himself to wait for Mikael to burn until unconsciousness.
Mentions: @Percival Rainwood [Mikael Haldorson],
Mentioning: @Flash Holmwood [Yefim Rumyantsev]