#team: alekov valiant

[sanguine-arena]

enough. | misc drabbles #1

desc: A Valiant rookie bites off more than he can chew when he tries to stand up for his captain.

cw: blood/gore (mildly described), violence (mildly described)

wc: 957

tags: @thetruearchmagos @hottubraccoon @athenswrites @elijahrichardwrites

---

"Please, please, don't- stop hurting me- I'm sorry--"

Thatcher rolled his eyes, chuckling at the crying, sniveling Valiant rookie that had curled himself into a ball on the ice by now. He was unphased by how much the younger man was obviously trembling at his feet and how much smaller he looked now. He mulled over the idea of stomping his blades into the other's throat, even momentarily teasing the blade gently along his skin, but ultimately holding back just to be able to toy with him even more.

"Aw." Thatcher said, his voice clearly dripping with venom and fake pity. "Is the kid too soft? Did he bite off more than he could chew? Huh?"

He watched the river of blood steadily flowing from the kid's nostrils, the bones of his nose smashed and contorted in a way they weren't ever meant to have been. Thatcher looked over his thin, fragile looking frame; he appeared to have bones so thin and breakable that they weren't unlike those of a bird. He stayed curled up on the ice, flinching and whimpering as Thatcher quickly snapped the blade end of his stick into the kid's already bruising ribs. He covered his head with his now bare hands, the skin now dyed purple, blue, and red with the bruises that were starting to appear. His gloves laid some twenty feet away, the kid having thrown them off to start the fight that began far away from where he laid the ice.

All started when Timur, his captain, was slow to get up after being plastered to the glass by Thatcher just moments before.

The captain soon brought himself to his feet, groaning softly in pain. He adjusted his helmet to properly sit on his head, trying to ignore how much his head was throbbing and how much his brain was trying to tear through his skull and then peel its way out of him.

"Hey!"

"Timur, no- stop!"

"Hey!"

"Stop, he'll hurt you too- please, no--"

Timur was currently not one to follow directions, even at the desperate urging of his teammate. The cocktail of knowing he was the catalyst for this shitshow and the delirious feeling starting to set into his consciousness wouldn't let him back down.

"Get off him!"

Thatcher gave an unimpressed snort, one that could barely have qualified as a scoff. He slowly skated away from the rookie's shaking body, standing nearly face to face with a clearly dazed Timur. Timur blinked several times, hard, and tried to lazer focus his gaze on Thatcher to thwart off the black colour he saw forming in the corners of his vision. He lazily put his hands into a slumped fighting stance, not knowing to be absolutely terrified when the much larger Thatcher squared up with him.

Timur didn't have to say a word, reeling his arm back as he began shuffling forward on his skates to smash his fist into Thatcher's jaw. He swung, and decidedly missed, nearly knocking himself over from how much force he'd put behind the punch.

Well, it was probably a good thing Timur wasn't exactly known for his fighting ability, even when he hadn't just been stapled into the wall a few minutes earlier. Maybe that would save him from criticism when he was asked about this later.

However, Thatcher took the opportunity to advance on him, snatching Timur by the visor of his helmet with lightning speed. He shook him by it hard a few times, watching as the other's eyes struggled to focus and his body struggled to keep himself balanced on his skates. As Timur finally started to straighten out, Thatcher pulled back, driving all of his force into the goal of throwing Timur face first back into the ice like he'd been not even ten minutes before.

Timur's skates slid out from under him, and he was slammed down by Thatcher with ease. His chin had been the first thing to drive down into the ice, and Timur instantly knew he was bleeding heavily from the gash that had opened up. The top of his helmet was the next to smash into the cold, hard surface, and Timur knew his head and neck were rattling hard upon impact. It didn't take long for the burning and tingling sensation to start setting in, and the fall took his breath away. He laid there a moment, his consciousness rapidly fading in and out and his body growing heavier with the increased labour of trying to keep his heart, his lungs, his limbs, and everything else under control.

"Are you done?" the washed out voice of Thatcher asked from right above Timur, and the man could barely make out his cold blue eyes staring down at him. "Have you gotten enough yet?"

Timur groaned in pain, weakly coughing and sputtering to try and control his breaths. The feeling of weight sitting and pressing down on his entire body grew stronger and stronger, and soon any control he had over his movements faded away. His eyes fluttered and soon shut completely, but his silence wasn't an answer Thatcher liked to hear. Thatcher kicked his skate into Timur's side, trying to jolt him awake enough to say something in response to his questions.

"I...I'm done."

Those two little words sent a shiver of pleasure down Thatcher's spine, making him shudder with the rush something like this gave him. He chuckled, shaking his head before skating away from the two bruised and bloodied Valiant skaters. He watched as the opposing team and the officials gathered around them. The Thunder's skaters all gave Thatcher pats on the back, hi fives, and fist bumps along with their uttered praises of what he'd done to their opponents.

[sanguine-arena]

TEAM SPOTLIGHT // ALEKOV VALIANT

-> “Strike swift, aim true.”

tag list: @athenswrites

(if you want to be added to this list, please send me a message!)

Official Name: Alekov Valiant, or Alekov Valiant Hockey Club

Team Nickname(s): the Valiant, the Birds, or the Brave Birds

Based in: Alekov, Skanovia

League: Combat Sports Hockey League (CSHL)

Team Colours: Black, White, Red, Navy

Founded:

Y2008, as the Alekov Brave Birds; played as members of the Skanovian Hockey League (SHL) for 31 seasons

Y2039, moved to the Plutidyne Elite Hockey League (PEHL) after the SHL folds and the teams are bought out by the PEHL’s owners in order to save them. The hope was to draw fans with already established teams.

Y2107, merged into the Combat Sports Hockey League (CSHL) after the PEHL is bought out by Combat Sports Entertainment.

Y2108, One hundred years after the Alekov Brave Birds were first founded, the club changes their name to the Alekov Valiant and rebranded their iconic “Brave Bird” name and logo into something more modern / current.

Name Origin: The city the team is based in, Alekov, has a strong military history dating back to the country’s founding. It is even named after a historical Skanovian military leader, Ivan Alekov, who is credited with being a major leader in the war that eventually gave the early Skanovian people control over their country. The city is also home to a Skanovian Air Force base, further adding to this. The people here are very proud of this heritage and culture, and are  also generally loyal to the team itself. However, individual players are often criticized for even minor failures. Hockey is a popular sport in Skanovia as a whole, but especially in larger metropolitan areas, such as Alekov.

Star Players:

Keiko Akiyama, #9, centre; Top scoring player. Most recent 1st overall draft pick in Valiant history, drafted under “exceptional status” at fifteen years of age and expected to turn the entire team around on his own because of it. He often gets the brunt of the media and fanbase’s outrage, something he tries to avoid talking about or commenting on.

Timur Kotov, #97, left wing; Captain of the team; contributes to many of Keiko Akiyama’s points (especially goals), and can often be seen hanging out with him off the ice. Has a notable attitude with the media in general, especially when it comes to making sure his teammates are given the credit they deserve for their on ice performance. Usually a fan favourite, but also subject to heavy criticism from fans and reporters alike; often puts his own performance down to lift his teammates' up.

Kazimir Krovopuskov, #66, defense; A hotheaded, offensively minded defenseman. Often seen laying heavy checks on opponents and crushing them in any way he can to keep them from scoring. Kazimir is usually the first one to jump into a fight with another player or the first one to swing at an opponent who picks on one of his teammates. He is often regarded as the team’s “guard dog” by teammates, a term that has since affectionately been applied to him by many Valiant fans. Brother of fellow teammate, Valentin Krovopuskov. 

Viljo Voutilainen, #77, defense: Often nicknamed "Scout", his silence should not be mistaken for passiveness. He has a unique talent for seeing every facet of the game, and a lot of times he seems to know what an opponent is going to do, sometimes maybe even before they do. He is shifty and not very flashy with his play style, but those looking closely can see the game being simulated in his mind and how quickly he adapts to it. People even joke that Viljo "must be psychic" due to his remarkably high level of hockey IQ. He adopts a more stay at home style of defense, but easily sets up his forwards for goal after goal. 

Ingvar Hjalmarsson, #28, right wing; Known simply as "the Berserker" to many fans, the flame haired man easily leads the team in fights, penalty minutes, and ejections just about every season. He is notable for his ferocity and very aggressive play style, coupled with his notably massive size, coming in at a towering 6'8" and 260 lb. These traits make him a force to be reckoned with and a sight to behold on the ice, especially for a team more focussed on the "skills" aspect of the game.

Viktor Pchelyakov, #95, goaltender; The Valiant's starting goaltender. He is one of the few “veteran” presences on the team, having been with the Valiant organization since 17 years old after a trade from the Koroshiv Comets following his rookie year. He is currently 27 years old. He is most known for his stone cold demeanour, not often phased by the events of the game, even when he is specifically being provoked. He stonewalls his opponents with a shocking amount of ease. He often leads the league’s goalies in shutouts and currently holds the fourth spot in Valiant franchise history for most shutouts recorded by a goalie even at his relatively young age. Viktor is also one of the few "southpaw" goalies in the CSHL. He is heavily criticized by media and fans alike, and is often blamed for not doing enough to help the recently struggling Alekov Valiant. The biggest criticism he gets is that he is "streaky", as whenever Pchelyakov tallies a loss in a game, it is often by a very, very high amount.

[sanguine-arena]

PLAYER SPOTLIGHT; VIKTOR PCHELYAKOV

age: 27 | 6′3″ | 200 | position: goaltender | #95 | alekov valiant

tagging: @athenswrites , @thetruearchmagos

from the CSHL’s official site:

“Viktor Pchelyakov got his start in the CSHL with the Koroshiv Comets, and was surprisingly traded from the Comets after his rookie season in Y2129. where he posted 11 wins, 4 losses, and 5 overtime losses in 20 games played. Ever since his trade to the Valiant, Pchelyakov has bloomed into one of the best goaltenders in the CSHL today. He holds the 4th place spot in the team’s 100+ year history for most shutouts recorded by a goaltender, and he often leads the CSHL in shutouts. He won the Askarev Trophy in Y2135 for being the League’s top performing goaltender that year, recording 67 wins, 13 losses, and 4 overtime losses in 84 games played, and holding an astounding save percentage of 94%, the highest that season for any goaltender. Along with his proficiency in net, he is also known for his stoic, cool nature, even under pressure, making him a dream netminder to fight to acquire if you’re any team in the League.“

drabble;

Breathe in, breathe out.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Tonight hadn’t been a good night, and Viktor always found himself needing to repeat these words to himself on nights like these. He sighed in relief as the anxious, tension filled air was expelled from his lungs with every breath he made. The sense of being somewhat grounded washed over him now as well. Viktor found himself skating out of his crease and for a quick lap by his net, idly tapping his stick on the ice when he approached the net. He slowly repositioned himself, tapping his stick on either post to regain the awareness of where he stood between its two posts. Something about the small tinking sound of the metal soothed him.

The official blowing his whistle at centre ice snapped Viktor back into the moment. Viktor slowly reached the top of the blue paint infront of his net, half crouching into his usual stance as he watched and waited to see where this next faceoff would take him. He tried his best to keep from looking up at the giant jumbotron that hung right above his head. He knew the bright lights would display the current score of 4-2, in favour of his opponents.

But he already knew that. He never forgot when a goal went in, let alone four.

Viktor watched as the puck was dropped several feet away, his eyes scanning the length of the ice. The other players skated and scrambled around on the other side of the ice, and they were only some flash of colours and movement that were in the corner of Viktor’s eye.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Viktor repeated his mantra again as the opposing offense descended on him, instantly dropping into his crouched stance. He shuffled himself closer to the shooter, trying to challenge him into losing the puck and missing his shot. The opposing shooter remained steady in his skating, reeling up for the shot. Viktor dropped to his knees, bracing for the shot that never came.

The opponent had managed to pass the puck off to the opposite wing of the ice, where the man who stood there was already ripping the shot right at the net. Viktor dug his skate into the ice, huffing and aggressively pushing his body towards the incoming puck. He windmilled his glove hand towards it, snapping his glove shut as soon as he saw it going into it.

Until a loud, familiar ‘tink!’ sounded right behind him.

The black rubber disc clashed into the crossbar of the net after whizzing by his head, stopping dead in its trajectory and dropping down to the ice behind Viktor. Too slow to react, the puck easily slid past the thin red line and into the net, the red light behind it instantly lighting up. The blaring sound of the opposing team’s goal horn rang throughout the arena, and Viktor’s ears weren’t spared from it. Or the thundering cheers of the home crowd celebrating their team’s goal. He wasn’t spared from the cheers and excited shouts of the opposing team’s players, everything stinging worse when the group mobbed each other in celebration.

Viktor’s shoulders sunk, and he stared directly at the opposing net. He slowly recovered and got to his feet, and he knew his body was trembling right now. He slowly lifted his head, not a word coming from his lips as his defensemen tried to apologize and take the blame for the goal against that made the score 5-2.

His posture said calm and collected, and unphased- however, in his mind, the only thing that came to mind was how much he wanted to scream “FUCK!” at the top of his lungs.

But Viktor had to remind himself- breathe in, breathe out.

Breathe in, breathe out.

[sanguine-arena]

PLAYER SPOTLIGHT: TIMUR KOTOV

age: 21 | 6′1″ | 200 | position: left wing | alekov valiant, “c”

tagging: @athenswrites , @thetruearchmagos

(and always feel free to send me a message if you want to be added to the list on future ones!)

from the CSHL’s official site:

“Timur Kotov is a player that one may count out at first, and they would be wrong to do so. Kotov made his first CSHL appearance shortly after being selected in the second round of the Y2136 CSHL Entry Draft (round 2, 29th pick, 60th overall) at eighteen years old . He is an expert play-maker, and has an excellent understanding of the game. He takes advantage of any scoring opportunity presented to him, and tallied 21 goals and 26 assists last season, for a grand total of 47 points. He is not often a physically aggressive player, or even a flashy player, but when he is, he is like nothing anyone else has seen. Kotov was given the captaincy by the Valiant in the 2137-38 season, a role he is clearly very dedicated to.”

drabble;

“What do you have to say about the team’s performance tonight?”

Timur always hated this question.

He hated how much reporters tried to pry this information out of him. He felt his jaw tighten and let a soft sigh fall from his mouth. He crossed his arms, and he knew the slight shrug he gave as his first response would probably be mulled over and picked apart for hours after this interview would be first broadcast. Timur turned his gaze towards the floor, trying to focus more on the fraying laces of his skates, or anything about them to avoid having to make eye contact with this reporter.

“I mean,” Timur’s brain stopped trying to form words as soon as the first two came out, and the obvious pause in his answer made him want to throw up. “We obviously need to do better. Obviously we didn’t make all the right moves tonight, and they made us pay for that. I definitely could have done better, maybe led the team a bit more out there-”

The reporter’s unwavering and cold gaze threatened to pierce through him, stopping Timur’s thoughts mid sentence. He almost flinched at the man’s harsh stare, immediately dropping his gaze back down to his skates. Part of him hoped the team hat he had on would cover his face enough to hide what he knew it would be saying: he hated how tonight went, he hated how much he’d let everyone down, and he wished he’d never have to stand in front of a camera again.

“And what do you have to say to the fans out there who were maybe disappointed with your performance tonight? A 9-2 loss is a pretty significant one, after all.”

The way the reporter’s microphone was suddenly in his face again after the question made it sting that much more. Timur could feel his heart start to pound, a low, dull thumping against his chest. His hands began to shake, and even tensing up his crossed arms as tight as he possibly could wouldn’t kill that feeling. He hated how aware he was of all of the cameras and recorders that captured every move he was making right now and would make in the next few minutes, and he knew that it would all be over-analyzed until every detail was squeezed out of the media scraps the general public had to work with. The weight of the “C” emblazoned on the chest of his jersey was starting to drag his shoulders down further and further the longer he tried to think of something to say.

He hated how fragile these things made him look.

“I’m sorry,” he said, quieter and weaker sounding than he’d ever intended for it to be. “I-I’m sorry, and I’ll do everything I can to do better next game.”

[sanguine-arena]

PLAYER SPOTLIGHT: KEIKO AKIYAMA

age: 19 | 6′1″ | 190 | position: centre / winger | #9 | alekov valiant

from the CSHL’s official site:

“Keiko Akiyama is a special kind of player that is only seen once in a lifetime. He generates points and scoring chances for his teammates at rate that has never been recorded since before the Conversion. He is currently the youngest CSHL player to score 100 individual points in a season, a feat that ended up winning him the Louis Stinton trophy for being the league’s leading scorer that season (won: Y2138-39 season, with 58 goals and 42 assists). This high rate of point production and unmatched vision for the game are some of the reasons why he is the most recent player to be drafted with “exceptional status”, being drafted into the CSHL at fifteen years old in the Y2135 CSHL Entry Draft. Akiyama’s gift for the game makes him a dangerous asset for any team....”

drabble;

“With the first overall pick of the 2135 CSHL Entry Draft....”

Keiko’s heart was starting to pound, threatening to jump out of his chest. He tried to ignore the slight shaking of his hands as the anticipation began to build up more and more. He’d known for weeks that everyone was looking at him; he knew that scouts from all over both leagues had been watching him intently during his last season in the VJHL.

It was hard to be missed when you managed to, somehow, put up over a hundred points in seventy games.

Though, if he were honest, this hadn’t been the draft floor he’d been expecting to be on. If you’d asked him a couple months ago, the CSHL hadn’t even been a thought for the boy.

The idea of going pro at fifteen hadn’t even been an option given to him; not yet, anyways. Every team at the PIHL had considered him, to some degree, if his manager were to be believed, but Keiko’s young age had always proven to make things difficult.

It was always- “wait a few more years”, “we’ll look at you again in a few years”, and “we would love to have you, but you can’t play for us until you’re older”.

There was always some sort of excuse, and Keiko had grown tired of it.

“You shouldn’t have to wait to show the world what you’re made of,” Keiko remembered the CSHL’s officials telling him. “We can make you a household name right here, right now.”

That was all he’d ever wanted to hear. And now, here he was, ready to faint at the thought that the professional career he’d always been dreaming of was going to begin and become a reality right here, right now.

Tonight was Keiko’s night.

“From the VJHL’s Belneux Junior Thunderbirds, the Alekov Valiant are proud to select Keiko Akiyama!”

Tonight was Keiko’s night, but why was he so nervous?

Keiko’s stomach dropped, and he felt ready to hurl as he got up to his feet. His dark eyes widened, darting around the stadium and the several thousand people who sat in its seats. He swallowed hard, trying his absolute best to keep from hyperventilating. He knocked out any sort of wrinkles that could be in his suit, keeping his head down as he walked up to the stage. He avoided eye contact with the several cameras being shoved in his face, trying to ignore how much more his breaths shook as he noticed more and more people trying to grab his attention.

The boy heard a chorus of chants, both cheering him on and booing him. Keiko wasn’t sure which ones to acknowledge, if any of them, as he finally stepped foot on the stage. He hesitantly took the jersey of his new team from who he’d assumed was the team’s owner, slowly slipping it over his head and reaching over to shake the man’s hand.

Keiko could’ve sworn his eyes were staring through him in that moment.

“We can’t wait to have you, Keiko,” the man told him, but his tone sent chills down Keiko’s spine. “We’ve been waiting to have an asset like you for such a long time.”

He didn’t have enough time to unpack the man’s words before he had to face the hundreds of cameras looking at him, and crack a smile that he hoped didn’t show how terrified he felt now. He knew the other could feel how nervous he was in the way that he almost seemed to be crushing Keiko’s hand during their handshake, and the way he took his time letting go.

“You’ll be the thing that changes the game for us.”

Keiko wished he’d known what he was getting into; he no longer felt like a person in that moment, and he wasn’t sure if anyone around would see him as one anymore. He felt as if he were being stared down by a pack of wolves, all ready to tear into him at once.

He knew they would eat him alive if they could.

[sanguine-arena]

scrap; misc drabbles #2

desc: during a game against the Alekov Valiant, young hotheaded Neon Knights defenseman Antonio Agnello decides he has to stand up for his goalie. despite swearing that he saw the Valiant’s player run their goalie over, Antonio’s defense partner, Bjarki, separates him from the opposing player in an attempt to calm him down from what seems to be one of his common overreactions.

cw: very mild violence mention, lots of swearing

wc: 1,266

tags: @thetruearchmagos , @hottubraccoon , @elijahrichardwrites , @jezifster , @isherwoodj (dm me if you want to be added/removed)

---

“Hey, hey, hey, hey-!” 

Antonio ignored the sound of Bjarki’s calls for him or didn’t hear them at all as he took off full speed towards one of the opposing Valiant skaters. He was honed in on the much larger forward, dead set on persecuting him for the crime of taking a run at their goalie after the whistle. His strides were short but powerful nonetheless, ice easily spraying up behind him with every crank he made into it. 

He didn’t take much longer to finally catch up with him, and wasted no time throwing a crosscheck into the number eight plastered on the back of his jersey. The much taller blond stumbled from the shock, not expecting the attack even a little bit- he regained his footing and turned around, his green eyes expressing confusion more than anger.

“Hey man, what the fuck? What’s your fuckin’ problem-?” “You know what you did!” Antonio snapped at him, his voice cracking towards the end. He looked up at the other, who was easily a foot taller than him, though that wasn’t a situation Antonio could say he’d never been in before. “You don’t run our fucking goalie like that! Got it?”

Antonio’s blood boiled when he laughed in his face instead of being angry back at him. 

“Yeah, okay,” the other said, dismissing him altogether. “Whatever you say, kid.” “Hey! Ant, get over here-” Antonio ignored Bjarki’s calls for him once more, two handing his opponent once more before throwing his stick aside entirely. He threw it and his gloves off in one fluid motion that could only signify this wasn’t the first time he’d done this. He snagged the blond’s jersey in one fist as the taller of the two faltered again, and he pulled down on it with a certain ferocity the other couldn’t say he’d ever seen before. He stumbled over himself once more, and Antonio finally took the opportunity to pounce on him like a cat to a mouse.

The two slammed down to the ice moments later, and Antonio started slamming a flurry of punches into the other’s face. He kept going, even as the other squirmed and tried to fight back without much luck. He managed to crack Antonio in the jaw once in what seemed like pure luck, though it didn’t seem to phase the smaller of the two for too long as he continued wailing on him immediately after he’d popped it back into place enough to relieve the pain for now. He kept going even as bruises began to set in on the other’s face, and the bones in his nose started to crack and shift by themselves. 

Whistles from the referees were starting to blare throughout the rink, the sound of them skating over becoming more obvious. Bjarki soon caught up to the fight, as well, and Antonio felt him tugging on the back of his jersey. The first and more gentle of the attempts didn’t get the message to stop through to him, and as such Bjarki was forced to use all of the strength that came with standing at a massive six foot eight to forcefully pull him off of the Valiant skater by his jersey’s collar. He effectively scruffed Antonio off of the other, skating away from the scene with him while the much smaller of the pair furiously squirmed and tried to kick himself away from him.

“What the fuck? I was teaching that guy a fucking lesson-” Antonio said, his tone almost an exasperated shriek as he did. “I was kicking his ass-” The officials helped the Valiant skater up and away from where he’d been attacked, escorting him to his team’s bench while Bjarki tried to reign his defense partner in a bit more. Antonio soon kicked himself free, though Bjarki would never tell him that he’d partly let him go anyway. He put himself between Antonio and any open ice that could’ve led to the Valiant bench, who were all certainly looking on to the scene that Antonio was making right about now. 

“What the fuck did you do that for?” Antonio shouted up at him, even giving Bjarki as hard of a shove as he could manage in hopes of riling him up, as well.

Bjarki, eternally unfazeable, sighed softly and looked down at him with what could only be explained as half disappointment and half pity.

“He didn’t even do that on purpose.” “You don’t fucking know that-” Antonio continued his tirade, shoving him again and even teetering on the edge of angry tears. “Didn’t you see what he did? Do you even fucking pay attention?”

“Ant.” Bjarki’s tone was stern, but quiet, and he let himself skate back a couple more inches to give himself more of a buffer. “Calm down. Now. He didn’t run him on purpose.” “I- You’re so fucking stupid! You don’t ever pay attention-” Antonio stumbled over his words, shaking his head frantically to get the tears to stay in his eyes. His thoughts ran at a thousand miles an hour now, and getting anything out coherently seemed impossible. “You don’t ever want to fucking stand up for anyone! You never want to be there for us!” Bjarki couldn’t help but flinch at the accusation, but tightened his jaw and took a deep breath before he responded.

“Ant. Listen to me.” he kept the stern tone, and Antonio could feel how hard he was being stared down right now. “You need to learn to control yourself. You’re a solid defenseman, but you get so riled up and so in your head, and-” “Don’t talk down to me like that!” Antonio’s anger started to falter a bit now, and his hands shook under his gloves. His breaths grew uneven, and he could only hope that Bjarki couldn’t tell. “At least I give a shit about this team! At least one of us is going to stand up for our guys! What are you going to do?”

Antonio’s rage had completely fallen off by his last question, and soon the tears started to pour out of him. He instantly turned his gaze down to his skates, and his shaky breathing was more obvious than he’d ever wanted it to be. Bjarki soon skated closer to him, hesitating before going to wrap an arm around him in an attempt to comfort him now.

“Hey, Ant- let’s go sit, okay? It’s alright, you’re al-” 

“Don’t- don’t fucking touch me.” Antonio pushed him away, and soon skated away from him entirely, only to skate towards the Neon Knights’ bench instead of towards the other bench to restart the fight. He didn’t go to restart the fight, like Bjarki had seen him do easily a thousand times before tonight and had expected him to do once more. Antonio hated how quiet he’d sounded, though the lump in his throat from how hard he was trying to hold back crying wouldn’t let him be any louder. 

He reached over the bench’s door, fidgeting with the handle for a moment before it finally popped open to let him in. Antonio slammed it behind him and made his way down the tunnel and towards their locker room. Though, if Bjarki were honest, the lack of his usual effort in slamming the door concerned him and made his chest tighten up with worry more than the act of slamming the door itself. 

He looked up, and saw the thousands of eyes staring directly at him, and he could’ve sworn he’d be able to hear a pin drop in the arena in that moment.

[sanguine-arena]

starting lineup. | oc introductions #1

(this is just an introduction of a small batch of characters i’ve made and will write about on this account :) click under the cut to read some brief info, including the player’s name, age, height/weight stats, position, team, and a small summary of who they are as a character.)

keiko akiyama  | 19   | 6'1", 190  | forward, alekov valiant  |

keiko akiyama is a young CSHL player who didn't spend much time in the minor league system due to roster issues and a very remarkable skill level on the ice. something of a hockey playing prodigy, the young star has been misguided onto a career path from which he may never recover and the consequences are already starting to show. three years after his CSHL debut, the boy can’t help but flinch at any sign of aggression and is constantly watching his back.

haydn runarsson  | 24  | 6'1", 195  | centre, kongsplass thunder  |

the origin story of this blond, long haired wonder begins a few years before the present; haydn's career had started taking off in the IHL, until a very unfortunate incident in which he snapped and attacked his goalie. haydn was immediately cut from the team. the true motives of this outburst will die with haydn and the goalie in question. behind haydn's ocean blue eyes lays a mind that is constantly sharp, alert, and scheming.

thatcher leichenberg  | 24  | 6′4″, 215  | forward, kongsplass thunder  |

any care thatcher leichenberg may have had for others was taken from him early on in life. violence and anger were the only problem solving skills given to him. extended family tried to help the troubled young man by giving him hockey as an outlet. it quickly became a platform for unleashing his rage on everyone around him. thatcher is known as a bruiser, but not one that lacks the occasional skill needed to keep his team in the game. the CSHL saw his talent for every aspect of their brand of hockey, and jumped at the opportunity to poach the young man from any other professional opportunities. despite having the captaincy in kongsplass, he has managed to cement himself as one of the most infamous and controversial players in the CSHL for the amount of damage he’s caused.

cosmin aloysius ignazio  | 36  | 6′2″, 200  | defenseman, alekov valiant  |

anyone who looks at cosmin aloysius long enough will know that the man has been through a lot over the span of his 20 year long career. he remembers the league before how it was now, when it was a place of elite talent and skillful play. he can feel that his days are numbered, and that those watching the CSHL with any sort of closeness hate everything he does. cosmin can feel that there’s a target on his back no matter where he goes, and he knows that his only true friend at this point lives at the bottom of a bottle. no one likes tenderness in this league, and unfortunately the father of three can’t help but stand up for his teammates. he’s long been over the CSHL and its treatment of players, but he wants to set his family up for life, and unfortunately the league’s pay is too high for him to give up just yet.

alec vorobyov  | 18  | 6′5″, 220  | defenseman, arelate emperors  |

though alec is a new face in the CSHL, he’s already been making waves. he’s known for his aggressiveness on the ice and also his sharp playmaking abilities. he’s a remarkably skilled pest on the ice and gets himself into plenty of trouble. despite the aggressive playing style, off the ice, the young man is surprisingly reserved and humble. he already seems to know to keep his head down and do what he’s told. he does it as if he’s been playing for years now. if you look under his tough, intimidating exterior, there is still a child who needs to grow up.

torsten kristjansson | 26  | 6′5″, 250  | goaltender, kongsplass thunder  |

something seems to haunt torsten, though it’s not clear what. torsten is incredibly introverted, and even if something was wrong, it isn’t likely he would let anybody know. he comes off as odd to his teammates and those around him, and not many people can really say they know him very well. many of them likely haven’t heard him say more than a few words at a time. smiles and friendly conversation from torsten are a rarity. the only thing his teammates really know for sure about their goalie is how hard pressed they would be to find someone who stops pucks better than him and how angry he can get when things aren’t going well in a game. the only real bits of emotion they see from him are when he’s angry, usually resulting in torsten trying to pick a fight with opposing players, and often times, even the opposing goalie.