#hockeyarc2021

[radiantpriamos]

With the assembling of a game within such chaotic circumstances, it’s easy to go unsurprised when, eventually, some accursed thing happens that throws the play into further disarray. What Edelgard hadn’t expected, however, was a squirrel roughly the size of a hand scurrying onto the ice and whisking away the puck. The bush of a tail disappears from the grounds as quickly as it had come— leaving the game at a standstill.

Lilac eyes darken beneath the crease of a frown upon her face, tracing upwards; her gaze fixes upon the tree the animal had run up, carrying the puck with it. It had been such luck that she and Priam, of the opposing team, had been closest to it. Stick abandoned for the moment, Edelgard crosses her arms; a gentle sigh escapes her lips as she turns to the other man.

“Well, I don’t suppose you have any nuts on you.” A contemplative pause. Her brow furrows. “Do you?”

She waits only moments for an answer, before placing a hand on the bark. “Well, if that squirrel isn’t coming down, there’s no choice to go anywhere but up.”

Priam, in the heat of hockey battle, was too stunned by the appearance of a squirrel to block it off with his hockey stick. He watched as this potential third team ran off with the puck in the middle of his and Edelgard’s skirmish, skating after it with the same rush of adrenaline he had for the game.

“Damn.” He angled his head up to look in the tree, Edelgard at his side. Priam figured he could get in the tree, skates or not, when-

“Do I?” Priam stared at her. He blinked. Squirrels, nuts, right. He patted down his pockets as if in a daze. “Er- no. I’m sorry.” Nuts.... bait... maybe any snack would do. “Do you have snacks on you? If not, allow me.” He went around to the opposite side of the tree and launched himself up. His fingers curled around the branch the squirrel had ran up and he shook it.

The squirrel and half the snow on the tree fell to the ground, and with it the puck, only for the squirrel to run off with it again.

“Race you!”

[carcinac]

Adrenaline crawls towards its peak at the lake, laced with hollers and cheer as two teams duke it out. Rennac finds himself swallowed in the commotion, his mulberry gaze concentrated on the lustrous medallion. It zips across the ice, ricocheting between elongated sticks, its overall trajectory unknown.

The puck skids to a clear opening, shimmering brilliantly beneath the morning sun. Two figures surge towards it: Queen Elincia, a magnificent beauty, and then… Ewan, the brat. Rennac narrows his eyes and finds his breath caught in his throat as they near the puck, sticks at the ready.

They reach forth...          ...  and the shot is scored!

“WOO!” Rennac cries out in triumph as Elincia scores! He gives forth a round of applause, the noise sharp and echoing. “Bring it home, QUEEN! Give ‘em what they deserve!” Especially that brat Ewan, who tested Rennac’s patience days ago at Lake Navar. The thief laughs, then turns  his head towards Ryoma’s direction. 

“You see that, King Ryoma?” He taunts. “That medallion’s going to be mine!” 

(mentioned: @raijima) 

[yewfallen]

@unsungblade​ sent:  Oh, there's that guy from before. Kris recalls, with a modicum of bafflement, how the blond had swung directly for him rather than the puck as if it were a fight. He'd managed to defend himself using his own stick until the other backed off, but as to what that had even been about in the first place, the Altean has no clue. But here they are again, this time with him ( deliberately? maybe. ) bodily colliding with Febail and threatening to throw them both off-balance. "Hey," he bites out in the midst trying to remain upright, "You know the sticks are for hitting the puck, right? Not each other?"

  Febail thinks he's getting the hang of moving on the ice by now, but that means nothing against external forces, and Kris rushing towards him is testing that. There's no easy way to outmaneuver the swordsman, which just meant he'd have to push back.

[ d20 rolls: 13 vs 10 ]   13 - 1 = 12 due to penalty!

He grits his teeth and manages to push back, forcing distance between him and Kris.

“ Cheer says, ' Cease the knees! Stick the sides! ' ”  he calls back as he glides away across the ice.

[amitieos]

The game came to a standstill with no puck, but there was a lot of commotion over by the trees. Skating across the ice, Elincia was sure she just saw her teammate Edelgard climb up a tree at breakneck speed. Wow.

Clearly impressed, she moved closer as Priam and the imperial princess wrestled with a rather cheeky little rodent. Absolutely adorable! They did need the puck back but she couldn’t help but silently cheer on the little critter. 

Bertie, do your best!

There’s quite for a moment as Edelgard pries the puck back and the game can begin again. Except... oh no, Bertie chose violence

“I’ll strike you down!” Edelgard it seemed had also chose violence and the poor squirrel was flung away several feet into the snow. The poor little dear! How tragic.

She left the ice rink and sprinted over to the mound of snow that darling Bertie was stuck in face up. With gentle hands, she reached out and took hold of him, pulling him out of the snow. It didn’t look like he’d hurt anything, besides his bruised, squirrely prize but she resolves to bring him to Rhys anyway, just to be on the safe side.

Elincia bundles him up in her sleeves, hoping to warm the chilly little rascal. Oh, he really is the cutest thing. Maybe they can commission him a tiny little cheer outfit? She skates back to her team, snuggling little Bertie to her chest.

“Lord Rennac, sir? I think we’ve found the perfect mascot!” Her voice carries across the makeshift hockey rink. “Guys look, isn’t Bertie such a handsom little man? Pet him on the head for good luck!”

[atypicalsenerio]

Soren had to wonder if a Heal staff would work on his pride. He cleared his throat and struck a pose, one knee bent to the side with a pom-pommed hand on his hip, and his other hand raised high in the air.

Some pre-game practice couldn’t go amiss.

“We are crabs! We are rad! We can do it cause we're not bad! Goooo crabs!!”

He recited it not with the enthusiasm a cheerleader should have, but a little forcefully, as though it was an incantation that wasn’t quite working, begging more than cheering his soon-to-be-playing team to do better. Soren cleared his throat and stood in a more neutral position, idly shaking the pompoms in front of him together.

“R! E! N! Let’s cheer again!” He jumped once. Soullessly. “N! A! C! We’re home free!”

He tried to do a cartwheel, but it turned into a somersault. Hopefully, he made it look intentional.

Soren sighed, folding his arms. Perhaps he didn’t have the bubbly temperament required to rally anyone. Maybe it was a failure of his own acrobatics. Whatever it was, he’d work it out. He rubbed his forehead, forgetting he was holding a pompom and directly stuck his face into the glittery neon blue and green strands of material.

Winning anything had never been about fun or pride. Battle wasn’t like that. Adrenaline was for survival, not... play. He supposed Herons and the like had to put themselves in their songs to impart courage and energy, so Soren would have to find it in himself to do the same.

He again struck a pose, both arms straight out, ankles shoulder length apart, trying to force some passion into his cheer as his pompoms threateningly wiggled.

“Blue and green, to your queen! Gooo Elincia!”

[verseandrhyme]

Hana clicks her tongue, a smile bright on her face at the sheer luck of being able to slip past the opposing team. The game's alive with...much noise, but she's focused. Her gaze locks onto the goal, and the only thing in her way is their goalie, Mitama. Surprising for them both to be in these positions, but she has faith in the other girl -- as she should.

| roll : 1 |

It's a shot she's not sure if she can make, but that does nothing to halt her movements at slightly raising her head -- a nod towards Mitama. Then, she shoots.

Mitama told them not to put her in the net. She asked politely not to be put in the net.

Mitama was in the net.

Mitama sighed to herself as she rested against the stick, watching the others skate around and struggle. This was fine. This was fine! It was the worst possible scenario in her opinion, but so long as the others showed any bit of merit, she would not actually have to-

Hana was skating towards her with the puck. Oh, absolutely not.

Mitama rolled a 1.

As Hana prepares her shot, Mitama moves to the side of the net. She grabs hold of the bar and, as much as she can without sending herself sliding, pulls the net down so the exposed part lies on top of the ice.

The puck hits the bar and slides away harmlessly.

“No, you can’t do that! Take the shot again!”

“I blocked it!” Mitama argues, gesturing to the net.

“No, again!”

Mitama groans. The net is reset. She waits for the next shot.

[jehannanmage]

“ Ah, um! If I can have a moment of your time, please, ” Pelleas runs up to Ewan mid-match. Though he's wearing the cheer outfit and is a part of the team, he'd hardly say he was confident in his ability to support through movement and vocal cheers. However, he can potentially help with power! And by the looks of this match, the players could be using a boost of power.

He holds out a drink he's made very quickly on-site using some herbs he's picked recently. “ Um, pinch your nose when you drink it. It'll help the flavor be weaker... but even if the taste isn't very good, it should help revitalize you. I c-can promise that much! Um, please believe me! ”

He’s tired. Usually he’s so full of pep, but he’s a mage, damn it, not a warrior, and while he’s better suited to the short sprints this game has demanded, the way it’s goin’ it’s feeling more like a marathon and boy is he ever pooped...

But the game is slowly nearing its end. So whatever reserves he’s got left, it’s about time to tap into them. About to head back into the fray, he halts and blinks upon being called to and turns. Pelleas, wasn’t it...? He’s usually pretty good with names, and though he doesn’t really know the guy, they’re on the same team (more or less) -- yeah. That’s gotta be it.

“What’s up, Pelleas?” Ewan asks, head tilted. Then, he eyes the proffered drink with the quirk of a brow, which gives way to a bright smile. “A power-up! For me?”

And with that, he pinches his nose as advised, and down the hatch it goes.

Hoo boy. He’d not been kidding. He makes a face, but then whirls around, fists pumping in the air. “HWOOOOOOO!! I’M ALL FIRED UP!”

That’s. That’s not really how it works, not really, but for the spirited mage it may as well be. His fatigue forgotten, he turns back with a grin. “Thanks Pelleas! I’m gonna put it to good use! HWOOAHHHHRGH!!”

[seirsvelgr]

By the stones, Rennac wasn’t going to let the Hoshidan Lobsters win. He had plans for that medallion after this event, as beaten as it was. The medallion was his, rightfully swiped and within his possession before that old man had made a big deal with it! Possessed by his spite, the knight lingers ‘round the edge of the rink. He whistles, unsuspecting, and waits for a player to near. He cares little for their allegiance as he kicks down a barrel of oil, strategically placed at the edge of the rink, and lets its inky substance ooze onto the ice.

He wasn’t going to let Lord Ryoma have this. Not if he could sway the game with underhanded tactics. The knight turns away as he hears someone’s skates skid, caring little to see who had gotten caught in his antics. Whoever the poor victim was… Surely, they could walk it off.

Goddess forbid this man be anything of an even slightly decent coach, much less supervisor.

A question. That was all she had wanted to ask— and she was certainly not about to skate over to the opposite end of the rink, although Professor Ryoma seemed a far better choice than Rennac. But of course, as the question had alluded to the strategy they were to employ in the next round of the match, she had no choice but to see the team coach himself. Edelgard catches sight of the man by the side of the rink, lingering most inconspicuously. It seemed he was hardly aware of how cartoonishly suspicious he appeared. She inhales, and her chest falls much slower than it had risen. It’s apparent, that there was no way through this, but through.

“Sir Rennac,” she starts, skating across the rink towards him, “I was wondering about—“

Within seconds of her entering the vicinity of the man does he fell a barrel of oil with an unhesitating kick, spilling its contents across the ice. Her question regarding strategy had been answered— but at what cost? Edelgard cannot stop her glide now. Not only had he completely disregarded her presence, but he’d also entirely neglected the fact that she was playing for his team! What incorrigible lack of common sense, chicken-brained, mindless display of a great intellectual deficiency had he decided to showcase? He was no better than that rodent that had made off with the medallion earlier in the game. In fact, she would say it made for quite the fitting comparison. If not for the certain safety hazard she was inevitably skidding into, she would give him more than plenty of an earful.

But that can wait. “UE—!”

roll d10 = 7 !

Gloved hands reach out for purchase; anything to stop her from ending up entirely sprawled within the mess of oil were welcome to the desperate grasp of her hands. She grimaces, preparing herself for collision— before her strained digits catch hold of fabric. Without a second thought, Edelgard stumbles forward, eager to stabilize— within her desperation, however, it had failed to occur to her that what she had latched onto had been another person. And an opponent, at that. Her gloves feel sticky. She holds on anyways; proper apologies would come after.

@sheerloyalty !

[ceaselessblade]

They are cheering.

Ike did not get the details, but this… Gauntlet is presumably for the black object sitting in the middle of the rink like a lead weight.  

At each side are students. Ike is rather shamed to know that he doesn’t quite know any of them—save, of course, the Queen of Crimea herself!

Cupping his hands over his face, he sputters as the weird striplike objects flutter into his face. But that does not stop him. He yells out a cheer! “Elincia! We’re counting on you! You can do this! Give them what for!” It’s only the weird looks from the others that give him pause. Err… was that not supposed to be encouragement? It’s only the sight of Soren moving forwards that drags his attention away, and his resulting performance leaves him slack-jawed and gaping like a fish, streaks of luminous green-and-yellow flashing past. “Soren! You’re doing great! That was amazing! Alright, I’ve got it now...” The pompoms rustle out of shape, as determined fists close upon them. Yes! He’s just got to give it his all! Soren did such a great job, and he’s going to be right here to back him up! Channeling the burning enthusiasm into his voice, he roars out over the stands, thrusting the glittery fur-things out and shaking them to blurry streaks. “GO CRABS! GO! PINCH THEM TO PIECES!”   And then, he turns to mimic the mage. It’s not everyday one sees Soren pull out an aerial cartwheel and he does so in the cheer of others?! Perhaps it’s a diversionary tactic—the flair distracts the enemies; (--aha, so that’s why they have such colourful wear that they may blind the opposition!) and on the other, gallant their allies! He will not disappoint! Shouting once again, he lets his feet leave the ground, rolling onto his palms and leaping off them in a perfect show of mimicry, tucking in his knees to perform the requisite spin that will blind the eyes of--

Oh, huh, that tall bench has a lot of whorls, doesn’t it? Hey, wait, that’s too clo-- CRUNCH-crackle-crash A brief struggle in the grip of the wood results. A few more seconds, and with a loud creak, gravity asserts. Another splintering results and a loud bang, but at least the unwelcome weight is suspended no longer. A lone puffball lies suspended in the remaining assembly as proof of the accident, like a proud nest for the birds; green and blue. Sputtering, the battered, but no less enthused mercenary claps a hand to his face to smear off the trickle of his nose, dusting off splinters with his other.

“--I’m fine!”

“GO CRABS! GO!”

[radiantpriamos]

“ Hold it! ” Febail cries out, swinging his stick up and pointing towards Priam as if it really were the two of them waving swords on a battlefield. “ We're not playing that. That's just a waste of food. ” Plus they were definitely using a medallion earlier, weren't they?

He scans the area, the light catching the shine of the makeshift puck in Rennac's bag. He motions Priam to follow suit to go grab it. “ C'mon. ”

Stealing the puck back proves easy enough, but Febail ends up grabbing some biscuits along with it. “ Guess he's had 'em prepared to switch things out, huh? ”

A pause before Febail's stomach rumbles.

“ ...You think it'd be stupid to try it? ”

Priam didn’t find thievery to be his style, but when it was from an evident thief... well. Their truce could only be temporary, but without the puck on the ice he supposed it was fine.

“Oh, cookies?” Febail’s stomach rumbled and Priam huffed. “There is no such thing as food meant to be nibbled or merely sampled. Here.”

He took one and shoved the whole thing into his mouth in one fluid motion. He crunched it. A pause. And crunched it. And crunched it. And crunched.... and eventually it was something like sawdust, which he swallowed down without complaint. Food and negative energy did not go together.

Regret. Regret which he must suffer in silence. He didn’t say how bad it was, nor would he admit that it sat down in his stomach like a sad lump of lead. Priam could understand with utmost clarity why the biscuits could be mistaken for a puck.

“Hmmm.” That was all. Priam nodded out to the ice rink. “Let’s.... go.”

[carcinac]

She skates past him slowly, gliding with what little momentum she has. Her eyes remain boldly in contact with his the entire time. "I hope you know how best to sleep with both eyes open." She comments as she slides past him.

Threat? Observation? Casual question? Perhaps.

Oh, it’s the slacker. Rennac shoots his own disdainful look as she drags by, a battle of audacity as he holds his ground. “Is that so?” He responds back with his own uppish grin, a show of how little he takes this girl. 

“I’d hope you show in the effort, if you’re so bold enough to threaten. Perhaps then, I’ll consider your words. So, crawl along, little slug.” He waves her away, “If you pray hard enough, maybe you’ll reach my quarters by tomorrow’s nightfall!”

[yewfallen]

@atypicalsenerio sent: Soren wasn’t as good at coming up with cheers on the spot as he would have liked. Febail was in a scuffle with an enemy teammate, and Soren shouted across the ice, threateningly wiggling his pompoms-

“HIT HARDER! THEIR KNEES! CEASE THE KNEES!”

That rhymed.....Roll for effectiveness: 8  ( prompt. )

  Try new things! Get new memories! Live new experiences, maybe rekindle old ones you didn't even know about! Now that he had convinced himself to be here, there was at least one thing Febail could be certain about: he was definitely no star athlete when it came to games where you glided atop ice and were armed with sticks.

He tries at first to relate the motions to what it is like to wield a sword but finds that a bit off the mark. Learning on the job against an opponent faster than him isn't the most moralizing experience, much less in the freezing cold but—

“HIT HARDER! THEIR KNEES! CEASE THE KNEES!”

Gods, are they aiming for EACH OTHER and not the puck now?! Not willing to take his eyes off the game to see who was cheering and for what team, he takes Soren's words as a blaring warning.

“ Got it!! ”  

[amitieos]

Finally, some real action! Priam drove the puck down the smooth ice, the far goal closer by the moment, if only he could just get a clear shot... He kept both hands on the hockey stick, trying to physically keep Elincia from getting the puck, elbows out and ready to shove her away with his shoulder. He grit his teeth, a glint in his eye, and took the shot.

Priam roll: 1!

Elincia roll: 1!

She tried her best to keep up to Priam. He’s very athletic but she wouldn’t give up without a (metaphorical) fight! For the sake of her team, she continued her attempts to mark him.

Unfortunately, she swerved in the wrong direction. To her delight though, Priam’s shot sailed away parallel to the goals. Another chance had fallen into her lap.

[atypicalsenerio]

The game had been going awhile, and they were tied 2-2 at the moment. There had been excitement, violence, a squirrel, men eating rocks, and whatever thing Rennac and Ryoma had between each other going on, but it was ultimately a stalemate.

Soren decided to cheer more, hoping his team morale might go up with Priam in jail. Febail was in there too... but oh well.

He was cold, and he moved more than he had before to generate some heat in his thighs that weren’t that many shades and tints from the glossy ice compared to most others’ tones.

“Go crabs! Pinch pinch! Snap snap!” He mimicked the motions of a crab claw with his arms, elbows slightly bent as he jumped and did something akin to jumping jacks, holding his pompoms at the tips of the ‘claw’. His face was as severe and serious as ever.

“Let’s show those Crustaceans what it means to be—Crushed-taceans!”

[verseandrhyme]

The scores were still neck in neck, and Priam was beginning to realize he couldn't brute force this even if he wanted to. Perhaps showing off his skill in conjunction with his gracefulness to Mitama. He gained the lead in front of her and grinned.

"Hey! When it comes to skill, I don't back down easy. Show me what you got!" He jumped in the air and did a single twist, landing on his feet roughly, but staying upright.

What...what in the world was he attempting to accomplish with that?

Mitama had given up on the match long before it had even started. The effort she put in was minimal, and at this point in the game, as she was content to simply stand off to the side and observe as others raced across the ice.

It seemed that that desire was not meant to be accomplished.

Mitama watched as Priam attempted some sort of jump. She expected him to fall on his face, but to her surprise he remained upright. It was unimpressive, but he seemed enamored enough with his efforts to goad her into attempting something of her own.

Mitama sighed. “Must I, really?” She must. “Very well....”

Mitama abandoned her stick off to the side. Her hands clasped together as she stretched her limbs high above her head. She shook them out, and then gave each of her legs a stretch in turn.

She then proceed to do the most impressive skating routine she could think off.

“I hope that will suffice.” Mitama panted as she slid to a stop in front of Priam. “I really do not want to do it again.”

[jehannanmage]

The game is on! Elincia spots the puck and skates towards it, hoping to score. Before she can strike, she comes face to face with Ewan, who seems to have had the same idea. They face each other across the puck, ready to shoot and she shoots him a friendly smile before focussing her attention on striking.

(!roll d3 result = 2)

Her stance is solid and her advance fairly good. It could have been better but at least she has a fighting chance...

(!roll d3 result = 1)

He’s not really sure what he’s doing but it’s fine. He’s remembered the most important rule: get puck = take to opposite net. That in mind, he scans the ice surface, searching, searching... Sees teammates and opponents both, and then... there!

Ewan strides toward the puck, eager and hungry for points, but lo! It seems he’s not to proceed unimpeded. He doesn’t know this lady but she’s pretty, so, with any luck, maybe that’ll change.

“Hey, what’s your name? I’m Ewan!”

And with a smile, he makes a move for the puck... but it seems she’s faster on the draw, and he can but blink as she passes by - with the prize in tow! Gah!