Not really much going on in this chapter, but I was a little stuck for ideas when I started this. Hope you enjoy it anyway :)
Aarch solemnly entered the briefing room clutching a cardboard box. After he had dropped it on the floor, he looked up to see nine angry pairs of eyes staring at him from the baby blue sofas.
'Okay, I know how you must feel.'
'Oh, you do?' D'Jok expressed angrily.
'Look kids,' the large man sighed as he stood up straight, 'this wasn't my idea.'
'You could have said no!' Mark interjected.
'I tried my best.'
'Well, your best wasn't good enough,' the redhead striker scowled.
'I'm sorry,' he tried with genuine sorrow in his voice, 'but, let me get on to the purpose of this sudden briefing.'
With that, he knelt down and ripped the box open.
'What's in the box?' Rocket asked curiously.
'Your costumes,' he replied, ignoring the irritated groans from his players. When he saw what they would be performing in, he grimaced.
'Okay,' he gulped before reading the tag on the first costume and holding it out to its owner, 'Thran.'
The Asian boy took the ensemble with a horrified expression; he hated everything about it, from the top hat decorated with the colourful lollypop right down to the stripy green and red tights.
'You know, this is really more suitable for Christmas,' he groaned, trying to get rid of the thing.
Aarch ignored his comment and lifted out the next costume, 'Tia.'
The young girl looked at it in horror; the costume was as white as her hair, not to mention it was made from the same material you would expect to be found on a teddy bear. Reluctantly, she took it.
'Ahito.'
The goalkeeper took the costume without awaking from his slumber and threw the witch Halloween costume on to the floor in front of him.
'Rocket.'
Taking the horrendous outfit in his grasp, he looked over at Tia; she was eyeing up the blue tights, already picturing him in the glamorized jester costume.
'Mark.'
The substitute wrinkled his nose in disgust, refusing to take it, 'what do these people think I am?'
'You are a baboon, and I am not,' Micro-Ice quoted, enjoying the fact that he hadn't been cursed with his costume yet.
Mark shot his small teammate a look of death before Aarch threw the colourful costume at the agitated athlete.
'Mei.'
The defender's eyes lit up when she saw the pink gown. She quickly seized the dress with a large smile; it wasn't like one of those ridiculous puffy fairytale dresses, but a sleek halter dress. Her blue eyes looked around her to see the confused Snowkids looking at her with expressions that just screamed you had better not be enjoying this. She quickly placed the dress over her knee and calmed herself.
'Yuki.'
She had to admit, it wasn't as bad as some of the other costumes, but it was a little bit too feminine for her taste.
'Coach, it looks like they bought it from the costume section in Akillian Market,' the short-haired girl cringed as she set the fairy costume on the ground.
'That's because it is,' the coach replied, catching the confused expressions on their faces, 'budget cuts.'
He shuddered at the sight of the last two costumes lying at the bottom.
'Okay, Micro-Ice.'
The youngest player's jaw hit the floor, Aarch had just handed him a huge dress and a head dress that could have been used to cover Aarch Academy when it snowed.
'You're screwing with me.'
Forgetting all about their own tragic costumes, the remainder of the team couldn't take it anymore and erupted in to uncontainable laughter.
'How is this funny?' the shortest teenager demanded.
'Oh, Micro-Ice,' Yuki laughed as she shook her head.
The laughter abruptly ceased as Aarch pulled out D'Jok's costume; a floor-length dress as red as his hair.
'… No,' the striker said as he angrily discarded the garment behind the sofa, 'no, no, no!'
'D'Jok, don't start,' Aarch wearily said, 'it's not that bad.'
'Not that bad? I'm playing a 13 year old girl who has been raised by a nurse who doesn't understand a word that comes out of their mouth and marries Sinedd, a relationship which eventually leads to six deaths including my own. How is it not that bad?'
Before he could answer, Dame Simbai sauntered in with a smaller box.
'This is addressed to you, Aarch,' she said in her broad accent, handing the box to him before quickly leaving the dreadful scene.
He swiftly opened the box, trying to block out D'Jok's furious rant. The man pulled out a script for 101 Dalmatians, along with a rather large spotty dog costume. Confused, he looked up at his team; their expressions were slightly frightening.
'Does anyone know what's going on?'
'Well, we didn't think it was fair that we were having all of the fun,' Tia smirked.
'So we put in our own little idea in to the League's suggestion box,' the youngest continued in the same tone of voice.
'And they loved it,' D'Jok bragged.
Before Aarch could say another word, Artegor stormed through the door.
'Aarch!'
'Artegor, what's wrong?'
'Can you explain to me what this is all about?'
Aarch's blue eyes examined the fur coat his friend was waving in his face; he knew he had seen that coat somewhere before.
'Cruella Devil? Cruella Devil?'
The larger man turned to face his smug looking players, 'alright, which one of you masterminds lead the rebellion? Hm?'
Silence.
'Was it you, Rocket?'
'No, Uncle Aarch.'
'Well, of course it wasn't you, it was quite obviously you!' Artegor bellowed as he pointed an accusing finger at the redhead struggling to hold in his laughter.
'Nope.'
'What about the little picture of innocence over here, eh, Tia? Or what about you, Micro-Ice, you're quite the practical joker!'
They rapidly shook their heads, slightly scared of the furious man.
'Yeah right, like any of these losers could come up with such a brilliant idea.'
All eyes were on the door to the briefing room; a rather conceited looking Sinedd stood watching the scene unfold before him.
'Sinedd, what have you done?' the black-haired coach asked angrily through gritted teeth.
The teenage boy laughed as Norata, Clamp and Simbai barged in to the room confronting Aarch about their own costumes. The poor man was at a loss at how to tackle this as the bickering escalated. Before long, everyone in the room was at each other's throats, arguing over their costumes and roles.
