#worldweavr

[moonsmultimusings]

📱 [Yuuri and Viktor!]

send a 📱 for a voicemail left by the receiver on the sender's phone! - Accepting ☾

This one must have been recorded in a crowded area. The background noise almost threatens to drown Viktor out at times, and the frequent bites he takes to punctuate sentences does little to help him be better understood. “Yuuri! Yuuri! Where are you?” he calls into the phone over the noise, as if there's any chance of a response on the other side. It is, of course, a voicemail, but it seems he's gotten excited enough that he's almost forgotten that fact. “When were you going to mention sukiyaki to me? It's like a Japanese zharkoye!” Of course, they're seasoned differently, but the general concept of a warm beef stew is enough for him, especially after the cold locations they'd been visiting on their competition circuit.

“Ahh, I need you here to have some of this with me… I could feed you some beef directly from my chopsticks…” he muses to himself, the beer he's had with his meal allowing his thoughts to slip out even easier. It hadn't even been long that Yuuri had been away from the table, based on the timestamp. “Oh! I'll send you a picture to let you know the food's here!” It only occurs to him now that this may have been a better plan than trying to leave a voicemail that may not be checked until later on. The call disconnects abruptly, with a photo of his own half-eaten bowl and one waiting across the table following.

[moonsmultimusings]

It was true, the returning skater had needed a coach, and Yakov was more permissive than some may believe. At least, he seemed to have enough of a soft spot for Viktor to allow him to get away with a bit. Some of the teachings that had been offered to him were the basis for how he chose to teach Yuuri as well, although he put his own spin on things, just as he was doing now.

“Hm, that is true…” He was no longer as spry as he'd been when he first started. He ought to conserve his energy better. Yuuri was a great point of reference for this, as someone who had the stamina to fit more jumps into the latter half of his program. He considered his theme a moment. Of course, he'd given it thought before. It needed to be something that would wow the judges, something that would surprise the crowds and capture the admiration he'd had for years now…

The greatest problem was finding something shocking enough. “Acceptance isn't a bad idea,” he chimed, a bright smile on his face. “There would be something poetic in placing above you with a theme like that, wouldn't there?” he teased. Truthfully, he had considered a similar theme himself. It was one he'd been toying with. He returned his attention to Yakov as he continued, “Something like that may work, but I was also considering something about coaching too. I need to bring my new experiences to the table.” Something new to bring to his routine: the delicate hand of a teacher that he'd been working on with Yuuri.

Huffing a breath of annoyance and amusement (if one looked close enough!) the old Russian coach shook his head, more than used to Victor’s antics by now, and in truth, he was grateful the boy hadn’t lost the passion that had so inspired him, prior to meeting Yuuri.

“Remember who asked whom to be their coach again, Vitya,” he reminded, with a raised eyebrow. Not that he would have ever said no. “And now you are coach and competitor both - we need to mark your stamina levels on the ice carefully so that you can reserve your strength for when it is most needed.” he paused, tapping his fingers agains the rail. “Do you have an idea of your theme for this year, yet? Any idea of a routine? If not, we can work from the ground up, if so, if it is best you tell me now!"

“Maybe it should be acceptance!” Yuri chimed in from where he skated a quite literal circle around the older skater, the grin on his face unrepentant.

[moonsmultimusings]

@worldweavr sent a plotted starter:

Positioning his body to launch into a triple sal, Yuri Plisetsky kept one weary eye on the entrance to the ice rink. He still wasn’t sure how he was feeling about Victor’s return, so he’d opted to try not to think of it at all…

Which wasn’t really working.

“Yura! Sloppy spin - do it again!” Yakov’s voice snapped him back into the present and Yuri grimaced, taking a breath before repeating the spin, but by the time he’d looked back at Yakov to see the coach’s reaction, the old man was focused on something else… someone else.

The familiar timber of Victor Nikiforov filled the ice rink, and Yuri fougt to keep his expression neutral. The legend was back.

To be back on the ice in Russia felt like revisiting an old friend, or returning to a childhood home. This would be Viktor's last season, no doubt. As a professional, he didn't have much left. He was young by most accounts, but in the realm of professional skating, he had nearly reached the ceiling. The cutoff of 30 was looming over his head, and two years simultaneously felt like no time at all, and yet far too much.

Even more than age weighing him down, he had the pull of dissatisfaction. He would be nothing if he couldn't impress his crowd, but there were only so many tricks one person could pull. After over 10 years of finding new ways to keep people on their toes, he worried he'd run dry. But the appeal of competing, even just once, against the up and coming skaters he'd inspired was tempting. He had coached both Yuuri Katsuki and Yuri Plisetsky, and after seeing their close finish in the championships last season, he still desired to test himself against them, aware as he was that he was at risk of losing now more than ever. Perhaps it would be a whimper that his career ended on as opposed to a bang, but would that not be surprising in itself? (Not that he intended to give in without a fight, mind you.)

He drew in a deep breath, the air tempered by the cool ice, as he skated out onto the ice, where Yuri was already practicing. “Yurioo~!” he greeted, his voice echoing across the rink. He stopped sharply beside him, waving a hand to his old coach as well. “And Yakov, of course. I'll only need a minute to warm up.” It had been a bit since he'd been on the ice, though one would be hard-pressed to claim him rusty after the short break.

[moonsmultimusings]

As expected, Yakov didn't seem to find much entertainment in his choice. He just thought forward laps were a bit basic, but he supposed they may as well start there. Since it had been a minute since he'd been out on the ice. Sure, he'd done a bit of practicing with Yuuri and Yurio, showing them both their routines a while ago, and a bit of time himself, but he hadn't been practicing to the degree he would have if he hadn't been a coach last season.

“Ah, I heard you, Yakov!” he assured, pulling off a quick turn mid-lap to right himself. “I just thought I ought to check my backwards crossovers a bit! I haven't done them recently.” Now, despite the instruction for forward laps and little else, he still attempted to slip in some smaller embellishments here and there. “But you're right… I need to make it in the competition circuit this year to compete against Yuuri!” Traveling around as fellow skaters would be different than doing so as coach and skater, but he wanted to experience both with him before they officially tied the knot.

with the sort of maturity that only he could muster, Yuri flipped Viktor off as he skated past him, smirking a bit at Yakov’s instruction to the older skater as he watched their lesson out of the corner of his eye. “No thanks,” He called back after a moment, “I don’t think i trust someone who needs glasses and a hearing aid!.” As if he always did everything Yakov said himself... Yakov grumbled at the direct refusal to his command, looking not the least bit impressed as he folded his arms. “Vitya! Have you cloth in your ears? Perhaps I need to tell Yuuri you should sleep in seperate beds from now on, the lack of sleep clearly has you misunderstanding me. I said forward laps - unless you want me to send you to Lilia to do barre work!” he threatened, not the least bit pleased.

[moonsmultimusings]

Yura seemed the same as he ever was in greeting. Given their time practicing together, Viktor knew to expect how prickly the young blonde was. He couldn't be too taken aback. He stretched his arms out over his head in preparation. He certainly wasn't in middle age yet, but he wasn't a spry teenager anymore either. A bit of stretching beforehand would do him some good.

As his fellow skater moved away to continue practicing, Viktor didn't hesitate to add, “Let me know if you need any help with your triples!” Just a light tease in return for what he'd been given, as he had witnessed the mistake just before he'd entered. He was as aware as anyone that Yura was capable of more, that he'd started doing quads earlier than most. As he'd noticed especially while training Yuuri, skaters tended to make more mistakes when their minds were elsewhere. Hence, he'd always done his best to clear his mind of anything but his program while out on the ice. It had served him well in past competitions.

“Ah, basic forward laps?” he protested, turning himself around and beginning them backwards instead. He certainly needed a warm-up, but he'd hate to miss an opportunity to be a bit more flashy with it than he likely needed to be, though he did ensure he kept close to the outer wall in order to avoid where Yuri would be practicing.

Yuri bristled as the loathed nickname pierced through the ice rink, and he hoped that no one in earshot would dare repeat it, though he doubted it. Those at the rink were family, and with that came the type of teasing that only came from those who had seen the blood, sweat and tears that went into one’s sport and life. “I didn’t realise they let fossles onto the ice now,” was his greeting, unable to resist needling the older skater - just a bit.

In truth, he was privately in awe of Victor’s gumption and daring. Even if the Legend were to fail (and Yuri begrudgingly doubted it, though he’d rather die than admit it aloud, especially when Victor was in earshot.) “You move well, for a relic,” he said, before turning on his heel and skating back toward where he’d been practicing,

“Don’t mind Yura,” Yakov advised as he made his way to Victor’s side. “He’s grumpy at everyone. Now! Let us go back to basics first. Laps, Vitya - three, around the rink. I need to see how you move."