Brynjolf Nilssen
Have I gone mad?
Wed Jan 24, 2018 00:45

Blue eyes watered blearily in the early morning as Brynjolf tried to clear his head and focus for what must have been the millionth time since crawling out of bed. Conveniently, the string of associated curses that had left his mouth in those few moments when he woke up had fallen upon an empty room. Since he was the only fifth year boy, his roommate was a nonexistent entity and so failing to sleep as long as he’d like wasn’t a problem. At least, to anyone else. A solid attempt had been made by the fifteen-year-old to drift back into the warm embrace of unconsciousness, but the twitches in his legs had driven him to the point of rolling out of his nice bed with a less than pleasant demeanor.

The Draco had started pulling himself together earlier in the morning to get a workout in. He felt the need to stay on top of things since his new height and subsequent appetite had him questioning exactly how his body was functioning. In reality, he knew that he was still growing and that it was normal, but it still seemed like his body was slowing down with the more weight he gained (or attempted to gain at that, so far his height was gaining faster than the rest of him). So, right before term had started, Bryn had forced himself into a routine that he refused to quit. It seemed to be working out for him. Maybe the changes weren’t visible, but the fifth year could tell that he was getting stronger and bigger. Chances were that it wouldn’t really be noticeable for anyone else. He was bound to be mostly lanky for the rest of his life.

It was a factor that was really killing his motivation and so he’d fully intended to not get up that morning. But his body had already adjusted to the new schedule and his legs were restless to no end. Most mornings, he had taken to the Pitch, but the scenery was getting old and really wasn’t helping his already failing motivation. The hillside of the Outdoor Classroom had appealed to him and so it was there he found himself, shaking shaggy blonde hair out of his face as he did another push-up, despite his screaming arm muscles. Struggling through another set, the Draco rolled onto his back, looking at the artificial sky of the room. Considering that magic was amazing enough, he was astounded at the fact that magic couldn’t alter a person’s body that way it could the ceiling of an otherwise ordinary room. Rocky Mountain was completely underground and yet he was staring at a blue sky. He supposed that you could change your body, but why would you want to? It seemed like cheating.

With a sigh, the blond sat up and set his elbows on his knees. Come along, Brynjolf he thought to himself dismally before pushing up onto his feet and shaking out his sore muscles. Another few sprints and maybe you can crawl back into bed for a few. Yes, maybe the workout he’d already completed would appease the restlessness that had crept unsuspectingly into his muscles during the night. If it worked, a hot shower and a comfortable bed would probably lull him back to sleep. Or the adrenaline would have him staring at the ceiling with a mild hatred for putting himself through this ridiculous regimen.

Focus was something that he’d been lacking so far during these mornings. His mind wandered to anywhere but the grassy area that he was sprinting across, trying desperately to forget that he was pushing his body to its limits just because he felt inadequate. There wasn’t anything else that bothered him. He was intelligent, nice, and a model student. But his physique for all it was worth, was a bit of a buzzkill and certainly didn’t help him on the Quidditch Pitch. Going from short and lanky to tall and lanky did absolutely nothing for his appearance. Now, instead of that awkwardly small Scandinavian, he was that awkwardly tall but equal skinny Scandinavian. He wasn’t sure which was worse.

At some point in the set of drills he’d been subjecting himself to, Bryn stopped dead in the middle of the run. His left leg seized up a bit, the unpleasant feeling of a severe string of cramps causing him to flop to the ground with yet another string of expletives that morning. A muffled noise caught his ear in the early silence and he lifted his head to find the source of the sound. When none presented itself immediately, he sat up, gingerly flexing his foot to alleviate the tension in the afflicted extremity. “Someone there?” He called out, focusing on his hearing for the moment. Hopefully, the person would be kind enough to announce themselves, otherwise it was just Brynjolf Nilssen sitting on the forest floor, talking to himself. Boy would that be a sight. He'd be crazy Bryn for sure.

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