"...I dunno what that is, but okay," he says, blinking fast against-- what,
exactly, he doesn't know. "Maybe that's why I wanted to take you boxing.
'Cause that's what I do at home, too. I work, I go boxing, I watch hockey."
Luckily his work is exciting to compensate for his empty social life.
He throws him a smile, feeling some kind of anticipation, some kind of hope. He puts the bag back where it belongs and puts his stuff away while Credence unwraps his knuckles.
It's the work of a few minutes to go back to his room, wrap up a bit
warmer, feed his pets and receive a few reassuring beak-scritches from his
phoenix. Then back upstairs to meet Ray.
Ray does the same, going to his room and getting a nice woolen coat, a hat,
gloves, and then makes his way over to the Enclosure.
"Hey," he says, like they didn't see each other five minutes ago, and then
goes over to the control panel. He's thought about this on his way here,
but he goes with the classic: the 1960-61 Stanley Cup, Chicago Blackhawks
vs Detroit Red Wings. He knows how it ends, but it's a classic, Bobby
Hull, Stan Mikita, plus he knows that the dry spell of Cup wins hasn't been
broken yet.
He's excited for it, clearly, and he grins as th door swings open.
Credence blinks at the blast of cold as they step into the stands. Neither
of them know that the Barge can't muster real people: the players on the
ice are in the right uniforms, but the faces, the hair colours, are
distinctly different.
"The old Olympia Stadium in Detroit" he says, as they step in. He's looking
at the crowd, but the Barge has done its job well: the players, warming up
on the ice, aren't the people he knows from pictures and stories.
"Nah, not really. But the puck can come atcha with a hundred miles per
hour, you don't want that flying at your face. Guys can get into fights
sometimes but that's down on the rink, not in the stand."
He rubs his hands together, warming them as his cheeks go red with cold.
Credence nods, and slips out his wand. A briefly, carefully murmured charm
surrounds them - just the two of them - in a bubble of warmer air. If Ray
reached out, his fingertips would still be chilled.
Which Ray does. Twice. Maybe three times. Each time he looks pretty happy with the feeling, and he grins at Credence before taking off his hat-- hair sticking up even worse than usual.
"Alright," he says, shifting a little so they can both see the ice better. "Listen up, class is in session. Basically, you wanna score against the other team. Way to do that is to get the puck in the goal. There's six guys on the ice at any point, but a team's got twenty players, 'cause things can get pretty rough there and they gotta switch off."
He sits up a little and points: "You got a goalie there, two defenders there and there, and then three forwards. That's the guys who're gonna try and score. Games're an hour, three times twenty minutes, but that's enough time for these guys to seriously get beaten down. I mean, they get penalty time for doin' stupid shit, but that don't stop 'em all that much. If the game's good, I mean." He gives him a little grin.
"Not hurt hurt, just, y'know. You gotta see some passion out there, and if they shove at each other a little you at least feel that they want to score as bad as the fans want 'em to."
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2019-02-12 04:25 pm (UTC)"...I dunno what that is, but okay," he says, blinking fast against-- what, exactly, he doesn't know. "Maybe that's why I wanted to take you boxing. 'Cause that's what I do at home, too. I work, I go boxing, I watch hockey."
Luckily his work is exciting to compensate for his empty social life.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-12 04:28 pm (UTC)"I've never seen hockey," Credence says quietly.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-12 04:32 pm (UTC)"We don't get cable here," he says, thinking it over. "I got... I got some old tapes, I think. From when I couldn't watch the game because of work."
no subject
Date: 2019-02-12 04:39 pm (UTC)"The library has discs," he says. "Of....everything. So, probably hockey. And the Enclosure might do it."
no subject
Date: 2019-02-12 04:48 pm (UTC)"The Enclosure could make a game, you think? That's better. That's way better-- you don't mind some cold, right?"
no subject
Date: 2019-02-12 04:52 pm (UTC)"I grew up in New York," he points out, without sarcasm. "I don't mind the cold. And I think we could ask."
no subject
Date: 2019-02-12 05:02 pm (UTC)"You, um-- you wanna go put on a coat, check it out now?"
He feels strangely soft about this all. Like Credence is taking care of him.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-12 05:03 pm (UTC)Credence nods.
"Alright."
Although he's going to go about unwrapping his knuckles first. They do feel a little tender, surprisingly, somehow.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-12 07:43 pm (UTC)"Meet you by the Enclosure?"
no subject
Date: 2019-02-13 09:50 am (UTC)"Yes."
It's the work of a few minutes to go back to his room, wrap up a bit warmer, feed his pets and receive a few reassuring beak-scritches from his phoenix. Then back upstairs to meet Ray.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-13 11:05 am (UTC)Ray does the same, going to his room and getting a nice woolen coat, a hat, gloves, and then makes his way over to the Enclosure.
"Hey," he says, like they didn't see each other five minutes ago, and then goes over to the control panel. He's thought about this on his way here, but he goes with the classic: the 1960-61 Stanley Cup, Chicago Blackhawks vs Detroit Red Wings. He knows how it ends, but it's a classic, Bobby Hull, Stan Mikita, plus he knows that the dry spell of Cup wins hasn't been broken yet.
He's excited for it, clearly, and he grins as th door swings open.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-13 01:14 pm (UTC)Credence blinks at the blast of cold as they step into the stands. Neither of them know that the Barge can't muster real people: the players on the ice are in the right uniforms, but the faces, the hair colours, are distinctly different.
"Where is this?"
no subject
Date: 2019-02-13 04:29 pm (UTC)"The old Olympia Stadium in Detroit" he says, as they step in. He's looking at the crowd, but the Barge has done its job well: the players, warming up on the ice, aren't the people he knows from pictures and stories.
"It got torn down in the eighties."
no subject
Date: 2019-02-13 04:35 pm (UTC)Credence finds some conveniently placed empty seats near the transparent panelling that surrounds the rink, and sits down.
"Is this...dangerous?"
He doesn't know many sports that are physically separated from their spectators.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-13 04:50 pm (UTC)"Nah, not really. But the puck can come atcha with a hundred miles per hour, you don't want that flying at your face. Guys can get into fights sometimes but that's down on the rink, not in the stand."
He rubs his hands together, warming them as his cheeks go red with cold.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-13 07:02 pm (UTC)Credence hesitates, then offers:
"I could make it warmer."
They've already had a bit of a squabble over magic. Will this just remind him of that?
no subject
Date: 2019-02-14 02:05 pm (UTC)Ray's problems with magic are mostly related to his own incapacity to do any or understand much of it, so he doesn't seem troubled by this.
"Without making the ice melt?"
no subject
Date: 2019-02-14 02:10 pm (UTC)"I think so."
Credence nods, and slips out his wand. A briefly, carefully murmured charm surrounds them - just the two of them - in a bubble of warmer air. If Ray reached out, his fingertips would still be chilled.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-14 02:18 pm (UTC)"That's pretty great. Can you do it long?"
no subject
Date: 2019-02-14 02:24 pm (UTC)"I think the charm just lasts until I dispell it. Or fall asleep," he adds thoughtfully. "I first tried it when my room was too cold."
no subject
Date: 2019-02-14 05:31 pm (UTC)"Okay, you wanna know the rules, so you get what's actually gonna happen on the ice?"
no subject
Date: 2019-02-14 07:22 pm (UTC)Credence nods.
"Yes, please."
He doesn't even really know what a puck is.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-15 03:06 pm (UTC)He sits up a little and points: "You got a goalie there, two defenders there and there, and then three forwards. That's the guys who're gonna try and score. Games're an hour, three times twenty minutes, but that's enough time for these guys to seriously get beaten down. I mean, they get penalty time for doin' stupid shit, but that don't stop 'em all that much. If the game's good, I mean." He gives him a little grin.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-15 03:21 pm (UTC)"So, if people get hurt, that's....a good game?"
Prime wardening here, dude.
no subject
Date: 2019-02-15 03:23 pm (UTC)"Not hurt hurt, just, y'know. You gotta see some passion out there, and if they shove at each other a little you at least feel that they want to score as bad as the fans want 'em to."
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