Summary: Two years after the events of BEGA 5 and the havoc wreaked that caused the fall of the stadium and the city surrounding, the organisation announce another Championship. Old talent is still welcomed, and new talent is encouraged from all over the world. They've re-organised the style of blading and where it'll take place, defined new rules and strategies in order to keep fans and competitors safe. A new team rises in the efforts of claiming prime status within the blading community. They have to be at the top, and they'll do whatever they have in order to obtain such a status, and nothing lower than the top, will do.
Credit to Little A Granger for providing wonderful ideas and being just as keen about this, as I am. Thank you for listening to me, providing your input and being supportive!
Chapter One: Tyson & Co., pov.
January, 9:37am. Saturday.
Two years. It had been two long years. Two years full of ups and downs, and at first, no one was entirely certain as to the games future. Recent events had proven had a game could become dangerous, how competitors and their strengths could reach new levels and exceed all expectations. The events of BEGA and their dream team resulted in the sport being torn down the middle, people contemplating whether it would be worth rebuilding, jut to endure it again, whilst organisations and sports ambassadors had argued that things could be done differently. Smaller, minor games would be held in stadiums, for example, friendly matches, or matches that would aid charity, whereas larger games, such as finals and semi-finals would be met with a different view.
Eventually, Mr. Dickenson had surprised the many speculating viewers, to announce and finalising of a fourth Championship, in which bladers would compete in teams - no smaller than four, and no larger than six - and welcomed the notion of old talent, to encourage an age of new talent. Hilary had made the attempt of restraining Tyson, who verbally threatened to climb across the table in the efforts of hugging the blaring television. He claimed that it was the closest he'd get to hugging Mr. Dickenson for now. His noise had reached new levels, and Kai was certain that he'd obtained the ability to snare his ear drum.
"Count your lucky stars, boys! All our Christmas' have come at once." Tyson announces retaking his seat, after Hilary made the threat to hitting him with the closest utensil at hand. His visage had formed a scowl before he had returned to stabbing his fork into the thickness of the pancakes he'd collected on his plate. Surely, he had an off button, or a button that would allow the volume to be reduced? It wasn't that early, but Kai could feel the tension collecting within his temples, and momentarily applied pressure to them in the efforts of nurturing the ache. Grey eyes shut briefly, lashes fluttering amongst a span of pale flesh, and the greying skin under his eyes becoming more obvious than ever. Hilary might have commented on it, but she also knew that Kai wasn't relatively in the mood for people fussing over his well-being, and decided that making sure he had breakfast would be enough for now.
"There was speculation about this in the paper." Kai reminds as he finally lowers his hands from the sides of his head. He crosses them over his chest, pointed elbows pressed into the wooden surface of the table, the length of his spine straightened to a thin line. One arm reaches out the paper he'd put down prior to Tyson noisy outburst, and he taps his index finger against a thick black headline, like it was obvious. "About a week ago. It was inevitable."
"Tyson doesn't read, Kai." The delightful chime that singsonged in belongs to the blond who is sat aside of Kai. Max's comment earns an amused snort from Kai, a faint huff of air that slips eagerly between his nostrils, and is blatantly heard by the navy haired boy. Hilary's faint laugh is also noted, though Hilary isn't aware of the sharp glare that Tyson provides her with, as her back is displayed before him, and her waist is pressed eagerly against the kitchen counter as she stretches out for the toaster.
"I read the back of food packages, actually. And menus."
"And even then, you struggle to pronounce the words." Kai's remark only earns a dull glare from Tyson, who is midway through chewing the mouthful of food, lodged between teeth and tongue. He makes the attempt of almost opening his mouth to show Kai his churned up food, but is prevented from doing so when Rei lodges a hand under his chin. No one wants to see your food, Tyson.
"It was inevitable, but it took longer than first anticipated. I wonder how they'll structure the rounds." Rei's voice is low, and appears to rumble more so within his chest, than his throat, and in doing so, outlines how tired he is. Himself and Kai had been up at 5:30, though he assumes Kai might have been up earlier. It was routine that had been difficult for them to get out of, routines that had stuck with them, and habits were not so easy to die out. They'd trained, though Kai had highlighted on numerous occasions that he wasn't all that interested in entering another tournament, and if he was too, he wasn't too sure as to who he'd team up with. The Blitzkrieg Boys had seemed like an obvious option if not Tyson and the others, and Bryan and Spencer were not reluctant to the idea of it either.
"He said teams no smaller than four, and no larger than six, that would imply tag team setting. A two versus two format. Ultimately if teams had five or six members, that would leave sidelined players. Substitute players maybe." Chief confirms from just above his laptop. He's peering over it at them, glass of orange held contently in one hand, whilst his other hand is pressing away at buttons of his keypad.
"Wouldn't that put some teams at a disadvantage though?" Hilary asks, taking a seat next to Kai. He notes that she smells of blossom, a hint of cinnamon, and something sweet, strawberry probably.
"Not necessarily. F-Dynasty played the last tournament with two players, and no substitute player." Kai comments, but declines to offer further insight on the matter. Mr. Dickenson had already stated that it would be a fairer opportunity for all teams involved.
"Kai's right. And F-Dnasty were pretty good on their own throughout the tournament. But this tournament appears a little stricter in terms of regulations, in comparison to past tournaments. We'd have a team of five - two pairs and a substitute - you'll have to decide to better pairings amongst statistics and strategy. I'm sure Daichi wouldn't mind being a substitute if we used the pairings from the second championship. That offered us a good outcome." Kenny continues, and soon returns to tapping away on his laptop, not that anyone actually knew what he was tapping away it, but Hilary had attempted to peer over his shoulder, only to be scolded by him.
"Who said there would be a team of five?" Kai doesn't offer his silence now, he offers a deep stare, a dangerous glare , that burns with the depth of the sun. Apparently the assumption that he would consider joining them, had irritated him. It was expected however. For a year, he had left sports press hanging within the balance, asking questions and attempting to earn something from them, and he left them only with blank expressions and false hopes. The same had been for the others, Tyson and Daichi had been more upfront, claiming they'll go blading and winning tournaments until their 90. Rei had taken a little more of a realistic view on the matter, and concluded that only time would tell - he was getting older after all. Max had insisted that it was a possibility, but he was unsure as to whether he would return with Tyson and the others, or join his mother.
"I put up with you, it doesn't mean I want to enter the Championships with you." Kai continues. In a single moment, it would appear that Kai had made up his decision, though he hadn't voiced it verbally. The truth is, he hadn't decided on whether he would return to blading. The option was there, and he missed the days of glory when he won alongside Dranzer. He did, but it was the matter of whether it would be enough. Tyson had opened his mouth, and then closed it again, attempting to fight a mouthful in the efforts of voicing his opinion, but the amber glare belonging to Rei, stopped him from doing otherwise. It was Kai's decision after all, and it was also Rei's and Max's. Tyson seemed pretty set, but the others... There was always going to be that want of fighting alongside their friends, those who they had started on this journey together with... But then there was the want - an almost need - to fight separately, in the efforts of facing Tyson and Daichi again. It's a factor that doesn't die away, because you have had two years to allow it to manifest.
"Don't be such a wet blanket, c'mon Kai!" There's a silent plea within the blue hue of Max's large eyes. There's a puppy dog stare, and something innocent to the way in which he leans closer to Kai, and Kai suddenly feels like the bad guy who had to kick the puppy down. Perhaps it wasn't the best of ways to have described Max, but that is exactly what it felt like. If Kai cared enough, he might have complied, and practically bent to Max's will, but he doesn't care enough. He really doesn't, thus excusing himself from the breakfast table. His chair makes a slight noise from underneath, when it is pressed against the flooring, and Hilary almost makes the comment that he hasn't eaten, he's barely touched his coffee, and didn't even contemplate picking up the toast that she'd plopped down for him. She almost says something, and yet is stopped when Rei raises his hand briefly.
Perhaps that was a little harsh - it was harsh, and Kai knows it was - it was brutal, but a quick way of closing down a conversation that Kai didn't want to deal with at the moment. It isn't that he doesn't want to participate alongside them, really, it isn't. At first they were nag, and the ache and pain that he simply dealt with to get through Mr. Dickenson's God damn team, but then they became his friends, a group that accepted him for quirks and flaws. It's just that he isn't sure as to whether he'd like to return to the game, and even if he was to do so, whether he'd join with them, or Tala.
Max wasn't sure how many minutes had passed since Kai had left the table, but it felt like hours, and only felt all the more awkward when Tyson declared that he was tired of Kai making it about himself. Of course, Tyson didn't mean it, and later on he'd regret his choice of words, but naturally he was fuelled with a passion of succeeding at the championship. It was their chance to get back into something they loved, to enjoy it together, and whilst Tyson wouldn't necessarily mind if Rei and Max felt the same way as Kai did, he'd much rather enter alongside them. All of them.
"He's such a wet blanket." He confirms once again, teeth hooked into the corner of his toast, so words spill out and are rather muffled. Kenny broke the silence that followed by announcing that perhaps he shouldn't have jumped to conclusion, whereas Tyson reminded that Kai was naturally sensitive. A choice of wording that he'd take back later, but for now he found Kai's outburst uncalled for, and unfair.
"I suppose it is only natural that people might be a little hesitant to enter. We are getting older." Rei is now reaching across the table for the paper that Kai had previously reading, but had long since neglected, and he's pulling it towards him carefully in the efforts of dismissing the look that Tyson is providing him with. He genuinely can't tell if Tyson is somewhat offended by the matter, or irritated at how smoothly Rei is taking this. He flicks through some of the pages, but decides to come back to the column that Kai had, had his attention on. The column that gave light to a previously ambiguous situation.
"Mariah had already asked if a championship was ann-"
"Which it has been." Tyson utters, cutting off Rei mid-sentence, and only earning himself a passive look from Rei, who had looked up from the paper briefly, only to drop his head again.
"She asked if I would consider joining The White Tigers."
"You said no, right?"
"My mom asked if I'd join the All Stars. It's a possibility."
"Why are you both just saying this now? Why don't we all just join the All Stars. Or the White Tigers. Say, Kai'll even throw the Blitzkreig Boys in the mix. No doubt he'll join them too." Of course, Tyson is hurt about the matter at hand. Perhaps, he had felt that there was a chance that ideals would have changed, and that they could fight alongside one another. They started this journey together, and Tyson would sure as hell finish his journey alongside them. His friends. His family.
"Tyson, don-"
"C'mon guys. This could be our chance. Us, Kai, Chief, and well, apparently Hilary is apart of this too, but - you said we are getting older. That means we're not getting any younger! I wanna go out with a bang, guys. If this is our last tournament, I want us to be together. Not against each other. We started this together, and we've come this far together. Let's end this together." It sounded nice, to say it out loud, so everyone could hear, hell, he'd be surprised if Kai couldn't hear him. He'd be surprised if the people who passed his own home hadn't heard him. It was a bold statement, but it was declared in volumes, volumes that Tyson prayed had become loud enough for the others to hear him. The format of the Championships is different this time around, it means that Tyson doesn't need to compete against his friends, just for a position on the team. They could go in together, isn't that what the rest of them want? To finish this together? To finish it victorious, but victorious alongside their friends?
Hilary had long since left table in the efforts of scooping up boards and cutlery that were discarded, or were no longer of use since everyone had stopped eating. She grasps up the jam and marmalade, the butter and milk, balancing them amongst her arms, before she moves away once again. Rei had his eyes fixed upon Tyson, a warm glow to the colouring, whilst Max had his head down, and his two hands wrapped firmly around the span of his cup. Kenny was balancing his attention between Tyson's face and his laptop, and almost appears willing to applause Tyson on making a speech that didn't make him seem like an idiot and half. There isn't really much that Kenny, nor Hilary could say. Chief had already stated that he wouldn't mind entering the tournament with them, though he had also made it clear that he was more than happy to be working upon the sidelines, making the changes here and there to blades, and helping to balance out new strategies. Hilary was happy being the sidelining support, but the voice of reason when she had to be, but mostly the mechanism that drilled sense into the boys. Once she had returned things to their rightful place, she turns back to face them, it felt like the silence had been long enough, but no one seems to offering their input, but then again... Maybe the silence was a good thing.