RPing as iNPC Maksim Preobrazhensky. Dialogue in Russian unless specified.

December 24th.
Private to @Adam Harringtom as Rudolf Novikov.

When you asked most students at Durmstrang what career they would likely pursue after graduation, many would reply with jobs in magical government, professional sports, and the like. But Maksim, ever the grounded and practical child, knew that there was a good chance that he would inherit his parents' pub. After all, from the second he could see over the bar counter, he had been making marvelous mixtures for brilliant beverages like his father. Now that he was tall enough to reach even the highest shelves behind the bar, Maksim was an above-average mixologist, especially for someone his age. It was not a skill he utilized often, but it was certainly a nice party trick that he kept tucked up his sleeve, and a talent he liked to practice and improve upon when he was home for the holidays.

Speaking of holidays, this Christmas, Rudolf Novikov was occupying a seat at the polished oak bar of his family's pub in Russia. This would be his first time spending a holiday with the Preobrazhenskys, and Maksim was determined to make his best drink yet to impress his friend. As neither Durmstrang student was old enough to drink, it was would be non-alcoholic; however, non-alcoholic didn't necessarily mean non-fun. The flat-topped Russian slid a dish of peanuts over to his guest before proceeding to dry a wine glass with a dishcloth as seductively and attractively as possible. For whose benefit was this performance? Certainly not Rudolf's. Sure, his blond bestie was a handsome fella with an excellent jawline, but Maksim wasn't into this particular blond sixth-year Durmstrang student. Nevertheless, he was more than delighted that Novikov would be spending Christmas Eve and Christmas Day at the Preobrazhensky Pub, as the two had become incredibly close over the past few years.

"So," Maksim said calmly, placing the sexily-dried glass down on the bar counter. "Let's go over the plan one more time, alright?" Adjusting his bowtie, he cleared his throat before counting off the plan's steps on his slender fingers. "First, we have to stay up until midnight. This part is imperative. We will need to ensure that we do not fall asleep while we wait, otherwise, all our preparations will have been for naught. Second, we need to figure out how to keep him contained. If he escapes the moment we catch him, then our integrity and credibility as wizards will be forever in question. Third, we need to verify that it is indeed him. If we catch the wrong man, we will become the laughingstocks of Durmstrang. We will question him, interrogate him... grill him 12 ways to Sunday. If he is an imposter among us, we will make him sing like a partridge in a pear tree.

"Got it?" The expression on his face was deadly serious as he looked straight at Rudolf's soul through his eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation. This was a plan that had been masterfully crafted by the duo, one that would take every ounce of bravery and cunning, every last bit of magical skill and prowess, to pull off. Meeting Santa Claus was at the top of both Max and Rudolf's bucket list, and this Christmas was their opportunity to meet the toy master himself. Sure, most children were taught that "Santa wasn't real" by the time they were seven or eight, but the two of them knew better. Santa Claus was definitely, indubitably real, and they would finally be able to prove it to the world.

"We'll need a drink! Something with caffeine, to keep us awake until midnight," Maksim decided. His eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning at the prospect of being able to make a drink for his friend. "I will make you an espresso martini!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "No alcohol, of course. We must be at our absolute best during our mission. It is classic and it is classy, and you will look expensive while drinking it."

Max began the process of making the espresso required for the drink with a simple enough water-heating spell and placed a coupe glass in the icebox to chill. "Dolf..." he said slowly as an idea began to form in his mind, popping his head up just enough to peek over the counter. "Dolf, do you want to try making a drink?" Reaching for another coupe glass to chill, an eager smile spread across his face. "I can give you the instructions! It'll be a good bonding activity."

RPing as Durmstrang iNPC Rudolf Novikov

No chestnuts roasting on an open fire at the Novikov home this year — but Dolf didn't mind. Why should he? He wasn't even there. In fact, no one was.

When he'd approached his parents about spending the holidays in Russia with Maksim, he hadn't expected to be granted permission so eagerly. His mother had seemed absolutely delighted with the idea, almost to the point of offense. His father had clapped his hands together and exclaimed "Well, perfect! One less thing to worry about!" Eventually they explained themselves, probably after realizing how much it looked like they were trying to ship him off and have a cozy little Christmas just the two of them. The whole family had travel fever, it turned out: as an early Christmas present to his mother, his father was taking her to Austria to fulfill her lifelong dream of hunting the Krampus. It was...romantic...in its own way? Dolf didn't pretend to understand his parents. What really mattered was that his mother was happy, his father was happy, and most of all, they were letting him stay with Max.

What would they have done if he'd been stuck in Ukraine? Months of hard work and careful planning would have gone whoosh, right down the drain. Because, see, Dolf loved Christmas. And he'd learned quickly that Max loved it too. Once they'd started talking about it, they'd gotten The Idea — soon The Idea became The Plan, and The Plan hinged on the boys being together at Max's family's pub on Christmas Eve.

So here he was. Dolf drummed his fingers against the surface of the bar, tossed back a few peanuts, and glanced over at his co-conspirator, busy drying a glass that neither of them had drunk anything out of. (Why was he moving his hips so much?) He put it down after a few more seconds and looked at Dolf; he wanted to get to business now. "That's cute," Dolf interjected before Max could begin, nodding at the bartender's bow tie with a smirk. "I like it." As Max went over the steps of The Plan, Dolf listened for anything incorrect or forgotten, but of course there was nothing. They had this thing down like pros. They were ready.

"Got it?" Maksim asked, staring Dolf down like this was the most important question he'd ever been asked in his life. Dolf met his gaze and — reealll casual-like — cracked his knuckles in response. "Got it. This year, it is the big man who had better watch out for us." That's right: the boys were going to catch Santa Claus. They said it couldn't be done. They said it had been tried a million times. Most of them even said there was no Santa Claus. But Dolf and Max were as sure of Claus as they were of themselves. If anyone could track him down, the boys could. And once they had him, Dolf intended to find out what was so important at the North Pole that it called for all of these secrets. He also (obviously) wanted to see the Naughty and Nice List. Then Claus and the boys could go their holly, jolly, separate ways.

It was too bad The Plan involved so much waiting; it wouldn't be midnight for a while. Dolf was more worried about dying of boredom than falling asleep. He should've remembered that having Max around was a cure for both. Dolf laughed as he watched his friend move around behind the bar, clearly in his element, making something that he promised would be classy and likely would contain a truckload of sugar and caffeine. A good combination if ever there was one.

"Will I look like James Bond?" Dolf loved those films. It was honestly a shame that more wizards hadn't seen them. So exciting! "Oh man, Nonmagi stuff is so cool. Most of it, anyway. The James Bond, and the Christmas songs, and the little deer movie. What's that one again? It's...oh, I've got it, Bambi. You seen that one?" Dolf's usual stoic persona was already becoming cheerier, and he hadn't even had anything to drink. Must have been the magic of the season. "I've decided: no January. Only December."

He'd nearly spoken over Max, coming back to his senses as the other boy's head sneaked up over the counter like a crocodile in the water. (That felt like the wrong analogy for the holiday season. Maybe a Christmas crocodile...?) Did Dolf want to try making his own drink? Well, it was unexpected, but...

"Sure, I guess I'll try," the boy responded, getting off his stool and rounding the bar. "Bonding. Yeah, good. So uh...what do I do?" He reached for the nearest bottle, not even checking the label, only watching Max's face to tell him if he was right or wrong. "You're pretty much going to have to hold my hand, just so you know. But let's do it."

@Ami Procoppio (as the lovely Maksim Preobrazhensky)

RPing as iNPC Maksim Preobrazhensky. Dialogue in Russian unless specified.

December 24th.
Featuring @Adam Harringtom as Rudolf Novikov.

Maksim had to admit, Dolf's fascination with Nonmagi culture was not one he necessarily shared, but it was exciting for him to see his friend get excited about something he was passionate about. Between the two of them, Max was generally the more enthusiastic and outgoing of the pair, so it was rare that he got to see Dolf display any truly cheery emotion during the school year. But then again, these were unusual and extenuating circumstances: it was Christmas, and they were on the hunt for Saint Nick. It was hard to have low spirits during such a jolly time of the year, and the joy was practically spilling out of both boys' smiles and banter. "You'll look better than Bond," Max assured his friend with a grin. "I've never heard of Bambi, though. I think there's a film about a deer during Christmas, no? Maybe not. You know more about Nonmagi culture than me."

Dolf joined Max in his sanctuary behind the bar, and Max welcomed him with a smile and a pat on the back. The smile immediately morphed into one of intense panic and stifled excruciating pain as Dolf grabbed a bottle of incredibly expensive vodka. Immediately, he reached out to remove the bottle from his friend's grasp, placing it back in its rightful place on the wall of glass shelves on the back wall. "To start, that was vodka. Maybe you should start reading the labels on things... remind me to never be your bench partner in Potions again."

Now that both the coupe glasses were chilling in the ice box, Max grabbed an intricately detailed metal pitcher, as well as a bag of coffee grounds and a spoon. "Do you know how to make coffee?" he asked Dolf. "It's fairly simple... we'll make french press coffee today, I think that's the hardest to mess up. Aguamenti!" The pitcher filled up with water, and Max pushed it over to Dolf with a smile. "Alright, heat it with Aqua Fervens. Hot enough where it's just under a boil, and then add three or four scoops of the coffee grounds."

From the icebox under the counter, Max grabbed the large glass decanter of milk that he and Slava frequently used to make hot cocoa, as well as a tin of sweetened condensed milk. "Is the water hot enough, Mr. Heat Miser?" he asked his friend, placing the two ingredients on the countertop next to him. "Okay, add the coffee. And let it sit. It needs to brew and stew before it can become true coffee. Meanwhile, let us decorate the glasses!" From the back shelf, he retrieved two martini glasses, as well as a bottle of chocolate syrup. (They may be wizards, but sometimes Nonmagi inventions were simply too ingenious to ignore) "Drizzle," he stated simply, holding out the bottle to Dolf and nodding at the glasses. "Drizzle like your life depends on it, Rudolf Novikov. And you better watch out when you do it. If you mess up, you better not cry, and you better not pout— let me tell you why, my friend. If you mess this up, it'll be entirely your fault, and the glass won't look at pretty as it deserves. No pressure!"

RPing as Durmstrang iNPC Rudolf Novikov

Better than Bond. Had he heard that right? Better than Bond. It was praise worthy of the season of giving. It was — almost — enough for Dolf to forgive Max's complete unawareness of Disney's Bambi, the single most touching cartoon of the twentieth century. When the stakes were not quite so high, he would carve out some time to show his friend what he was missing. Now, however, there was only one plan: The Plan. He could afford nothing but laser focus.

"Ah," Dolf began with an air of complete and total expertise, "you're thinking of Santa's reindeer." He swiveled in his seat, propped his elbows against the bar, leaned back, and glanced over his shoulder at Max. "Of course, you know Dasher, and Dancer, and Prancer and Vixen. You know Comet, and Cupid, and Donner and Blitzen. And that's all of them. Eight reindeer." He cracked open another peanut. "I don't know what you mean about a film, though." There were plenty of Christmas films; plenty of them featured Santa's reindeer. In none of them, however, did the animals get to take center stage. It was really a shame.

At Maksim's request, he joined the other boy behind the bar, picking up the first bottle that he saw. His friend's reaction was immediate: firmly, but kindly, Max took it away and returned it to its place on the shelf. It was vodka, was it? Truthfully, Dolf didn't know why that was a big deal. He did know when he'd been insulted. "I read!" he insisted. "My potions are..." Suddenly, he was plagued by flashbacks to Hogwarts' Blossom Ball, where he'd lost out on a perfect score at the Trial of Hecate just because he couldn't brew a damn Babbling Beverage. It was possible that Max had a point. "Alright," he grumbled, "they're not great. But you should see me cast Lumos..."

Supplies were produced and set down in front of Dolf, leaving him staring at a fancy pitcher and a bag of coffee grounds. "It's fairly simple," Maksim reassured him. He hoped that was true, because he never had made coffee before. His mother didn't allow it in the house. He'd asked her about it once, only to receive a vague answer about seventy-plus hour days while she stared into the middle distance. After that, there had been no more questions. "I think that's the hardest to mess up," continued Max, conjuring the water they'd need for the french press. He smiled at Dolf, then left him to heat the water while he prepared the next steps.

This part, at least, was indeed easy. Dolf held his wand steady just above the surface of the water, watching and waiting for it to bubble. He could hear Max moving around by his side but dared not look away, in case the water boiled over the moment that he wasn't paying attention — which, from experience, he knew it had a tendency to do. It was his job to make sure that this pitcher was heated right, and as Claus was his witness, he was going to do it. And so... he waited. He ran through the steps of The Plan once or twice more. He wondered briefly if he'd spot Slava while he was here, although Max hadn't said anything about his younger brother being around. He rattled off as many of the Chocolate Frog cards as he could remember. He spent nearly a full minute trying to remember the fourth Hogwarts house. (There was the lion, the snake, the bird, and... what else?) Finally, he turned to song.

It started out as a hum. Soon, he was singing the English words that he knew in a low, rather flat melody. "Oh the weather outside is frightful... but the fire is delightful... hm hm hm hmm hmm hmm... let it snow, let it snow, let it snow."

"Is the water hot enough, Mr. Heat Miser?" Max's voice brought Dolf back to the real world as he set a large glass of milk and a tin on the counter. Dolf glanced down to see the contents of the pitcher just starting to bubble. He gave an affirmative nod and added in the coffee grounds as instructed. "If I'm the Heat Miser, are you the Snow Miser? You've got the charisma for it." He chuckled a bit at "brew and stew" and raised his eyebrows as Max placed two martini glasses and a bottle of chocolate syrup between them. Drizzle. No pressure.

"Maksim Preobrazhensky," he said, looking straight into his friend's eyes. "Tell me. Have I ever let you down?" With that, he seized the bottle and turned it upside down over the glass. He didn't have much of a strategy — he was tempted at first to make a snowflake, but quickly realized that he lacked the skill to keep up with his imagination. Instead, he settled for a nice, even back and forth, laying lines of liquid chocolate across the martini glass in a zig-zag. When he'd finished, he raised the bottle to his lips and blew across the opening like it was a smoking gun.

In the process of doing so, he got a strong whiff of its delicious chocolate scent. It pained him to sacrifice his cool finishing move, but temptation was too strong. Acting on pure instinct, Dolf tilted his head back and squeezed a jet of chocolate syrup straight down his throat. He set the bottle down a second later, licking his lips in satisfaction. "Well. Did I do it?"

It was like he was a whole different person here in Max's family's bar. A much more fun person. Welcome, Christmas, he thought. Bring your cheer. He could live in this night forever.

@Ami Procoppio / Maksim Preobrazhensky