I'm like a bird; I long to fly away [Zviad]

Where was he? Nikon didn’t like not knowing where Rodion was and what he was doing. They did a lot together, despite being worst enemies and vicious rivals. They often sat and did homework in the room together, they ate meals near each other. They occasionally sat outside near the lake sunning themselves or training on the pitch, but for once Nikon was in the room with no one but Zviad to keep him company, and he didn’t like it. Zviad was weird. He was a Koldo transfer, which wasn’t bad in and of itself but he felt like he was a bit of an outsider. When Lev was still in school with them, Nikon would sometimes seek out his paternal cousin to bounce ideas off of (not that Lev ever seemed to care about anything with quidditch and his girlfriend). He knew Lev and Zviad were passable friends, which should have made him friendly by default, but as it was they rarely spoke.
 
It seemed that when he was with Rodya, Zviad was elsewhere. He was rarely in the room with them and Nikon didn’t feel much like Zviad was a proper roommate as much as a guy who happened to sleep in their room. It had been like that all year, since Zviad had been held back a year. They hadn’t had seven years to get used to one another’s habits and quirks. He felt like a stranger to him. Nikon was bored, though, and restless. He had just returned from spring break, where he had watched the other seniors debut, and was feeling unsure about things going forward. This would be his senior debut year, too. He was jealous that he had to wait to graduate, despite being of age. He wanted to drop out and do it now, but what was the point of going to school for six-and-a-half years if he wouldn’t even finish the last of his seven?
 
He was sitting cross-legged on his bed, sewing a few beads back on his most ornate artistic flying costume that had been damaged during costumed training. He looked over at Zviad, then back at his work, then back at Zviad. He wondered where the other’s head was at, what he was thinking. He tossed the outfit aside, and stood up, stretching out his back. He had a long, feline torso, and a big femme energy coming from him. He was pretty, like a girl, and his shaggy blonde hair didn’t make him look more masculine, either. He glimpsed himself in the mirror, and frowned as he looked at his profile. Was that chub? No, no. That was normal. He had been strictly sticking to his diet, and it was paying off. He had tone in his chest and arms, and a very svelte, slim physique—like he planned. He was obsessive, though, and had taken to journaling his food and counting his calories and macros. It had seemed to be helping, as his weigh-in had shown he lost 0.8 of a kg. He hated to be so obsessive over something so, otherwise, silly, but his figure was his livelihood, and allowed him poise, grace, and the ability to do stunts his more masculine competitors could not do any longer. He was stronger than he looked, too. He could also go faster, he thought.
 
“Might go for a fly before the night’s over.” He said, after a moment. He missed the old castle, where he could fly directly out of the window. This underwater thing made him feel suffocated. He was more himself in the sky. “You can come if you want to join. Nothing too strenuous. Just a little glide around. I miss the open air down here. I feel suffocated underwater, don’t you?”

@Zviad Gogoladze

Zviad Gogoladze was counting the days until his graduation. Maybe he had started this a little early in the year but, honestly, he just didn’t want to be at school anymore. It had been okay at times but what had driven him to repeat his seventh year? He should have just left school without graduating. He would have survived even without a proper degree.

Now he was stuck at Durmstrang for another couple of weeks without those he had hesitantly called ‘friends’ in the past. He was sharing his dormitory with boys that he could not connect to. Nikon and Rodion each were no friend material but both together they were Zviad's worst nightmare. Their constant flirting and fighting was tiresome at best. Most of the time the Georgian actually wanted to curse them into oblivion because they were so annoying. He had found a way to cope with the situation that did not land him in detention, though. The boy avoided spending time in the dormitory when both Nikon and Rodion were around and sometimes even found another place where to sleep.

He had seen Rodion leave the dormitory at some point so he had dared to enter. Nikon seemed nicely busy with some atrocious beaded costume. A small smirk had spread across the Georgian’s face as he had seen it but he didn’t want to comment as he didn’t really want to start a conversation at all. He rummaged in his trunk and found a joint he quickly slid into his pocket for later use.

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw that Nikon was looking at his reflection in the mirror and his eyebrows seemed to shoot upwards. This boy was so vain and… feminine. He was so different. There was probably nothing the two of them had in common but then again Zviad hadn’t really made any effort in finding out similarities.

Suddenly Nikon spoke and Zviad turned to face him properly. His expression was unreadable for a moment as he considered what the other boy said. Flying. Yeah, there was something they had in common, after all. Though, Zviad’s way of flying was different than Nikon’s. Zviad would never wear a beaded, tight fitting bodysuit and stand on a broom moving like a little girl. That was so not his thing. He liked riding a broom, though. Had tried out Quidditch at some point and enjoyed it and, of course, he liked to fly when he was in his animagus shape. That, however, was something none of the boys in his dormitory knew about.

“Yeah, I miss the fresh air, too,” he said after a moment and then gave a little shrug. “As long as you do not expect me to wear such an… outfit,” he pointed at the clothes on Nikon’s bed and a little snort of laughter escaped him, “I’ll come with you. I was about to go out anyway.” He said, having intended to go out to smoke.

Nikon actually smiled lightly at Zvaid’a response, both to the flying and to the outfit. “Oh no, this thing is ridiculous.” He admitted. “I would only ever wear it for shows, and only because it’s traditional.” He admitted. “I’ve really got more of a grungy, punk kind of style. Black. Flannel. Ripped jeans. Stuff like that. Drives my mother crazy, but that’s part of the fun, right? She’s so suffocating, any chance to annoy her I’ll take.” He admitted, oversharing just a little bit. He pulled on his jacket and led the way down to the pitch, looking around for Rodya just a little bit on the way. Where was he? What was he doing? And why was Nikon so bothered by it?

It didn’t take them long before they found the broomstick cupboard, and Nikon pulled out one his favorite non-artistic flying brooms, the Nimbus 2001. He let Zviad pick from the school brooms, unless perhaps he had his own. Nikon’s mother didn’t truly work, and the Zimas were not necessarily well off either, which made it difficult to pay for both schooling and a nice broom, but he had put in a request with his mother for a nice artistic flying broom. He hoped that he would get it as a graduation and senior debut present, but he was working on saving up for if that did not truly happen for him.

He wanted to comment on it, but he eyed Zviad up a bit and decided his family was likely not very well-off either. He wouldn’t want to hear him brag about trying to get a nice broom. He knew what it was likely struggle financially, and that resonated with Nikon. Once they had gotten their brooms, he walked towards the pitch. “Anything particular you want to do tonight?” He asked. “Race me?” He asked, a little playful. “Or maybe you just want to look around. The campus is more beautiful at night, even if it is cold.” He kicked off, and just floated there for a second, trying not to  think about what kind of tricks he could do.

“I’m sure, living with two of us, you’re tired of hearing about the sport all the time, but it really does take a lot of practice, you know. Gymnastic skill, endurance, and the rest. Not only do we have to contort, land, lift-off, we have to do it all flying. I’d like to see you try it.”

"It's ridiculous and yet you'd wear it in public," Zviad remarked. He did not sound malicious or as though he was teasing. He was simply stating a fact here. He briefly wondered if there was a way to get around wearing such an outfit in that sport Nikon practised but the Ln discarded the thought as he did not really care.

Nikon already spoke about other outfits he wore anyway and Zviad raised his eyebrows, wondering if the other boy thought that he'd be… impressed by the alternative attire he described. He wasn't. However, there was no point in saying so.

As they reached the broom cupboard, Zviad eyed Nikon who did not take an artistic flying broom but a Nimbus 2001. Feeling a little envious, the Georgian reached for his own older Nimbus 2000 which he had bought a while ago with stolen money. He didn't feel bad about the way he had got the broom. He just wished that he had had more galleons to spend. Then again it wasn't really important anymore. He didn't aspire to join the Quidditch team any longer and he could fly in his animagus shape.

Zviad looked at Nikon a little bemused as he asked what he wanted to do and suggested a race or to just look around because the campus was beautiful at night. Was Nikon considering this as some kind of a date and tried to create a romantic atmosphere?

Hesitantly he kicked off as well, keeping a safe distance from Nikon. Why had he agreed to join the other boy? He hovered in the air, tempted to light his joint but refrained - for now - as Nikon went on chatting. Zviad smirked when his companion said that he was likely tired of hearing about the sport all the time. He was tired of the constant chatter and bickering. He didn’t really pay any attention to what Nikon and Rodion spoke about. However, it seemed like Nikon was trying to gain his respect by pointing out how difficult artistic flying was. Zviad didn’t doubt that it was tricky and needed a lot of practice but he didn’t really see the point of it.

“Yeah,” he said dryly. “Won’t do you that favour.” He was tempted to tell the other boy that he’d like to see him try to become an animagus and figure out how to move in an entirely different body. However, he was not going to let Nikon in on his secret. The less people knew that he was an animagus the better.

Nikon laughed at Zviad poked a little fun at him. Other than his work artistic flying, he did not typically take himself very seriously. “You’d be surprised what I would wear.” He teased, unintentionally flirtatious. Or, well, maybe a bit intentionally, but certainly not seriously. “It’s expected to look as flashy as possible. Haven’t you ever seen gymnastics? Or ballet, even? You wear what fits the aesthetic, not necessarily what you like.” He laughed. “And in ballet, you sometimes have to even act ridiculous, too.” He laughed. “Maybe you just take yourself too seriously.” He laughed. 
 
He floated around, watching Zviad as the other boy kicked off. He laughed again at the other’s response to trying to artistic flying. “Ah, yeah, you definitely take yourself too seriously. You think you’re too good for it.” He noticed, but he shrugged it off. It wasn’t for everyone, but he doubted Zviad could handle even one standing move on an artistic flying broom. It comforted him a little to think that the other couldn’t handle the thing he was admonishing him for. 
 
He waited, despite himself, to Zvaid to get ready on the broomstick. “Race you to the far goalposts?” He offered, trying to play nice. Had he known what Zvaid was thinking, he might have been angry or annoyed, but at least the former Koldovstoretz student wasn’t speaking his thoughts about Nikon taking him ‘on a date.’ Why would Zviad even say yes in that instance? 
 
While he did, to some degree, want to impress him—truthfully he just felt the need to defend himself, his choices, and his sport. He never needed to do that with Rodya, because the other boy understood. He missed him, despite himself. He wouldn’t be here with such a grouch if there had been an alternative other than lonliness. 

“Yeah,” Zviad said, smirking. “I’ve seen that and I wouldn’t want to wear a ballet or gymnastic outfit either.”

Nikon was a peculiar boy. Zviad was quite aware that the other Klyk was attracted to males and females alike, though he suspected that he was really more into males. He found it quite impressive that the boy could laugh about himself. Nikon was right that Zviad took himself far more seriously. However, the Georgian assumed that was because he had never been privileged in any way. He had always had to fight. His family was poor. He had grown up, not knowing that he was a wizard and he always felt that it was usually him against the rest of the world.

Then again, Nikon was from Rybinsk but not part of this huge artistic flying family that lived there. He was not looking like the typical Durmstrang student. He was an athlete who took part in competitions. He had to fight as well.

“Not too good for it,” Zviad explained. “Just not my thing, really. I am sure it requires talent and training to do all these stunts.” That was as much of a concession as he was willing to make. He thought the sport looked difficult, yes, but also silly - at least for males.

A race to the goalposts sounded fun and he nodded. “Sure,” he said and got ready. He knew that his broom was likely less fast than Nikon’s. Besides, he hadn’t flown on his broom in a while. However, he was still fighting to win this race even if it seemed lost before they started it.

Zviad was being surprisingly nice to him, and Nikon was here for it. He wanted them to be friendly at least, especially now that they had the room to themselves. Rodion had been promoted to Klyk Vampira Tzar and had his own room now, but that didn’t mean he didn’t still frequent their bedroom. Even so, it was he and Zviad alone now, for the most part. He didn’t want things to be harsh between them. If anything, he hoped to forge a vague acquaintance-style friendship, if he could. Knowing the other’s broom was slower, he gave Zviad a little head start before he started flying towards the posts, utilizing his flying skill and thin physique to get him there as fast as possible.

He peeked over at the other as the flew, feeling free for a moment. He loved flying, artistically or otherwise. It really did leave him feeling freer than usual. He tried his best to outdo the other, if only for bragging rights.

He didn’t care that Zviad had been a Koldo, the same way he didn’t care much about the others. He liked him well enough, mostly. He just wanted to get in his head a bit, know him.

Rolled 1d6 : 1, total 1

Even = Zviad wins
Odd= Nikon wins

Zviad felt that he didn’t need anyone. Besides, it wasn’t long until he’d leave Durmstrang for good. There was no point in socialising and trying to make friends, especially not with Nikon and Rodion who were just not the kind of guys that Zviad thought were good company for him. He just didn’t get them and, truth be told, didn’t really want to get them either.

He hadn’t been flying on a broom in a while and Zviad grinned as he thought about how different it felt to fly in his animagus shape. Having got a hang of it now, he preferred flying in his bird shape. He felt weightless then, he loved to feel the wind below his wings, and enjoyed how it carried him around. It was like playing with the wind. When he was on his broom the wind felt more like an enemy somehow.

He sped up, leaning forward on his broom to accelerate and wiped the tears from his watering eyes with his sleeve. He didn’t really look at Nikon, just tried to fly as fast as his Nimbus 2000 allowed.

He raced past one of the goal posts and then took a sharp turn, catching the middle hoop with his right hand to come to a halt in the air.

“Did I win?” he asked, as he caught sight of the other boy. He really couldn’t tell who had been there first and, strangely, it didn’t matter. The rush of adrenaline just felt great and he hovered there high up in the air, a smile spreading across his face.