Thestral PV Nichlas F. What's in an 'O'? Closed

Nicholas answered Nichlas’s tsk and change in posture with a solemn nod. He understood the feeling well, all too well. Second was a much nicer way of saying ‘first loser’, after all, it would hardly do to sit and be content with failure. Sure, it was better than placing truly last, but it still meant that you had been bested. The spark of understanding flickered on in Nicholas’s mind, the other boy, despite being rude and entirely obsessed with himself, was hardly the type that the Hogwarts student could bring himself to dislike. He was blunt and impolite, but he was honest, there was no sugar-coating or whatever other saccharine nonsense that so many of Nicholas’s own upperclassmen seemed to exude at every waking moment.

Nicholas had been weary, but he found himself relaxing now, truly relaxing. The other boy was a predator, vicious, but he wasn’t rabid. Even as he spoke of watching another boy drop, an obvious reference to his attack on another participant, the violence of which he spoke was reasoned. Hell, it was refreshing.

Nicholas responded with a smile of his own, not a predatory one, but the sort of self-assured smile that seemed to grace the faces of arrogant young men when they were certain that they had stumbled upon the secret to invincibility, “Naturally.” The word was honest, his tone sincere, “It’s the nature of the sport, isn’t it? If you can’t send people hurtling to the ground, you’ll be sent yourself.”

Nicholas did not know the circumstances behind the attack, or the alleged love triangle between the older Swede and his younger classmate. Nor did he know of any sleight that may have been cast toward him by the boy he had sent to the ground. What he did know was that it had taken place in a broom race. Anything was fair game when it came to winning, be it strictly within the spirit of the game or not, there was no room for cowardice or petty morality when it came to the pursuit of victory.

“I hope he wasn’t a total bleeding heart about it,” Nicholas added, “Nothing worse than people who can’t wrap their heads around what it takes to win.” The boy leant forward as he spoke, relaxed and enraptured as the foreigner provided the playback of the race. He’d missed it, and now he found himself entirely disappointed with his failure to attend.

Nicholas nodded finally, the frustration the blonde boy expressed through his body language lost on the rather daft brunette, “Shame.” Nicholas’s tone didn’t change as he followed up the monosyllabic, “Unfortunate end to the race, reckon you can grab the win next time?"

The unspoken question was there, lingering in the air, did he think he could beat Nicholas? Truthfully, even Nicholas knew his chances of victory against the much older boy were slim to none, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to place the challenge regardless. There two things McCowan had in spades, stubbornness and ambition.

Stats: STA: 12 | EVA: 6 | STR: 8 | WIS: 6 | ARC: 4 | ACC: 6
Abilities: Foulplay | Statistically Relevant
Tags: @Alan Vanes
Action: Bro, broom racing is sick

The older boy was sitting in his arm chair with his gaze lingering on the younger kid. There was a silent understanding between the two that seemed like it had cut through all of the tension between them like a heated knife ran smoothly through cold butter. There was no more resistance and the sparks of anger and competition had subsided to a glimmer as the fire had burned out. It was oddly calming and Nichlas would welcome the change of pace after a second of consideration. He would allow himself to think that the other kid, Nicholas, had passed the test, that barely had been one. There was an odd familiarity in the way the other boy behaved that reminded him of themselves, though that Nicholas' was clearly more of a hot head and physical fighter. Nichlas was a firm believer that magic got the job done far better and with the plus of not getting one's hands dirty.

A smile, a genuine one for a change, would tug at his lips. "Of course," he drawled, "Good to see that not all kids here are so.... on the fence in understanding what it takes in order to be your best self," he added, his voice accented thickly by his native tongue. Nicholas was free to take this as a compliment, he would hardly care about what the kid thought of his words as long as he would not annoy him with it.

"As for the kid that fell, I hadn't bother to turn around and check for him, he was hardly a concern of mine after that," he'd continue to speak his mind ruthlessly. What a refreshing encounter, someone who listened to his morbid speech and didn't run his mouth or pointed fingers. Ella would have likely smacked him if she had seen what he had done and how he talked about it now, she had always been nicer than was good for her. The world was brutal and she was not ready to face that fact, which made it his job to keep her safe.

The next question had a underlying message that the older student was quite aware of and thus would incline his head with a prideful smile. "Of course," he'd promise. All of a sudden he could not wait for the next year's summer race in which he could for certain show this boy his place. For sure, there was something entertaining about the unspoken challenge between the two. It would be interesting to see who would be the victor of the situation, even though Nichlas was sure he knew the answer already, after all there was no way he would lose to a child.

Nicholas’s smile widened further, the mutual understanding between the two boys had been relatively rocky in its inception, but there was no doubt that it now existed between the two. Perhaps the reason for the initial animosity was the same as why such animosity had faded. Nicholas was aggressive, rather ruthless in his approach to sport and to life, Nichlas it seemed was all of that and then some, colder, harsher than the much younger Irish boy. If Nicholas was autumn, then Nichlas was winter, those same natures fully realised. Nicholas was not cognizant of such a factor, nor was he capable of understanding what it could mean, but he was aware of the fact that his guard had lowered significantly. Be it the general aura of the conversation or a subconscious desire to learn more, the brunette had relaxed all but entirely.

“Naturally,” Nicholas responded to the Nichlas’s rather ambivalent statement as to the well-being of his opponent. It was a harsh reality, but that did not make it any more real, that broom racing was such a sport that fostered brutality and violence. That made utilisation of such tools a fundamental aspect of competition, and it fell to the opposing team to deal with the consequences.

Those tools would no doubt be used against him by the older boy, the smile provided by the Swede made that entirely obvious. He was a predator, and while there had been a genuine understanding between him and Nicholas, it was clear that the latter was prey. It would be foolish to court disaster in the form of outright challenge to the older boy. Unfortunately, Nicholas was very much a fool. He knew that he had not even taken up the sport, he knew that he was outmatched in just about every conceivable way, and yet he found himself greatly looking forward to the altercation. No matter the form that it may take. One did not seize glory by sitting on the sidelines and allowing the world to pass them by.

The smirk that Nicholas shot back was answer enough to any challenge, he was a whelp challenging a wild beast, and that alone was enough to send a sense of smug pride down his spine.

“Well, here's to hoping I’m out there to try and put a stop to it,” Nicholas extended his hand, the handshake offered, a formality from a boy so informal.

Stats: STA: 12 | EVA: 6 | STR: 8 | WIS: 6 | ARC: 4 | ACC: 6
Abilities: Foulplay | Statistically Relevant
Tags: @Alan Vanes
Action:

Perhaps Nichlas was being a little smug here, perhaps even condescending... no he was definitely being condescending, but he knew he was in his right to be. Here he was sitting in this cabin with a child, admittedly a brave and somewhat witty child, if not a bit bashful, making himself yet another rival. Though this felt a bit different, after all the both of them somehow got along, despite of their rough start with Nichlas testing the child and him not being fully able to grasp it at first. He would have to learn that, especially if he planned to stick around the Durmstrang boy for longer.

"Yes," he drawled and he could have fooled someone for it sounded pitiful, but he was past that act with the other boy, or rather he never had to put up an act around the boy who seemed to understand very well the likes of sport and competition. He was just a bit surprised with how easy conversation seemed to fall into place with the other boy as he watched him like a hawk, waiting for him to mess up, slip up and reveal that he was overwhelmed with this situation. Perhaps this was all an act to seem stronger than he was, but oddly enough the teenager did not feel such a sense coming from the other boy. Nicholas seemed sincere in his approach to these matters and Nichlas couldn't help but acknowledge that with a slight smile showing on his pale lips.

"You could only dream, barn," he retorted with a smug face and mischief shining in his eyes. The very same word he had earlier used as a means to insult. He had picked it up again, though it was not spoken with the same malicious intent he had spoken it with before. It seemed he no longer believed this word to be accurate as a descriptor for the younger boy. Of course he was still a boy, a child however he was in no way as helpless and childish as Nichlas had first expected such a reckless individual to be. "You shouldn't be promising what you cannot keep."

He was still not sure if that would make him mad again, he did not seem like a kid that could take jokes well. Though Nichlas meant the part of winning against him. He would show and prove to the other boy that he had nothing to fear from the Hogwarts student. After all the one student from the Hogwarts team that had snuck their way into his team, had not even bothered to show up to support them. Then again Nicholas hadn't been captain back then, perhaps he would actually manage to lead a team. Though the Durmstrang student would doubt forever that they would be even able to come close to their lead, once Nichlas managed to get a headstart. He would tilt his head, regarding the boy with a calculating gaze and the usual predatory smile, "now... tell me, do you have any experience in broom racing?"

Nicholas frowned the moment the older boy’s mocking use of the foreign tongue returned, already dark eyes darkened further and the Irish boy’s hand retreated to his pocket. Was the mocking good natured? Perhaps. Not that Nichols particularly cared, he was still frustrated by the situation, his teeth gritting together in a rigid grimace. The conversation had begun to flow so naturally, only for it to be brought to a crushing halt by Nichlas’ insistence at one-upping the younger boy. The more frustrating thing was that Nicholas knew and understood that the Swede was right to mock. He’d never flown a broom competitively and here he was attempting to hold himself to a certain standard before the far more experienced racer. Hell, Nicholas wasn’t even on the team. Nichlas was right to accuse him of writing cheques with his mouth that his flying abilities would not allow him to cash. That only made his frustration seep further.

The Hogwarts student straightened his back, posture returning to that same defensive pose that he’d unconsciously entered into not a few moments prior.

“We’ll see,” Was all that he said.

Scenarios ran through Nicholas’s head, means to achieve that goal that he’d set himself. He had to get on to the Gryffindor team, win the house championship, then best Durmstrang come the following summer. Three goals, each more difficult than the last. Not to mention Nichlas’s following question was just as fair as those that had preceded it. He did in fact have no broom racing experience. Barely anyone at Hogwarts did, to be fair, but at least some of his housemates had been able to prove their worth through defeating the other schools.

“No,” He answered truthfully, “But then again, neither did half the team that beat you.”

He shrugged, a deliberate motion, an attempt to convey that the other boy’s comment hadn’t gotten to him. Even when it evidently had.

“Always time to practice though,” He added idly.

And that was exactly what he intended to do. He’d been arrogant, stupidly arrogant to even put himself in the same league. Yet, he’d committed himself to competing, and that meant training until he could at least hold a candle to his opponents’ flames.

Stats: STA: 12 | EVA: 6 | STR: 8 | WIS: 6 | ARC: 4 | ACC: 6
Abilities: Foulplay | Statistically Relevant
Tags: @Alan Vanes
Action: