Entirely self-indulgent. Feel free to skip to the end.
Nickel wasn't sure how he'd gotten into this scenario.
Wandering around the exterior of the Restoration Headquarters had taken a strange yet fortuitous turn when the car of a certain feline he'd met not too long ago showed up.
Nickel watched as the driver rolled down the window, having stopped just in front of him; upon seeing that it was Jax, he went over to greet his fellow cat.
"Hey, Nickel!" Jax hailed. "What are you doing out here?"
"I could ask the same thing of you," Nickel returned. "Were you visiting that friend of yours who's here?"
"Yes, actually!" As he spoke, Jax seemed to get an idea. "Do you want to meet him?"
"Uh, sure," Nickel said uncertainly. "Where should I go?"
"I'll take you there."
"No, s'okay. I'll walk."
"Nonsense. It's further than you think - let me help you out again."
"You've helped us more than enough before. You don't need to keep doing stuff for us."
"You can never help your friends too much. Besides, I think you'd get along great."
Nickel caved. He got in at the back, and Jax turned back around to take him to the destination.
This was how he had ended up in the abode of an English skunk, watching a football match with him.
Jax had introduced them: the skunk's name was Berry, and he was visiting from East Anglia with Jax as his friendly tour guide. Nickel talked a little with him, before noticing the football being played on the television inside and petitioning to watch. Berry had graciously permitted him, and they bid farewell to Jax as he no doubt returned to Central City.
The light ivory feline had been right. Nickel and Berry did get along quite well, being both big fans of the sport they were watching. They gave commentary on the current game, sometimes even talking to the players themselves, as well as discussing happenings and preferences outside said game. Soon they were pretty well acquainted.
As it happened, the match on TV featured Berry's local team, and Nickel started getting just as invested in that team as the skunk was; unfortunately, they were losing 2-1 at the moment.
"Come on, thirty minutes to go," Berry muttered, as if trying to will his team into life.
"They've had chances," Nickel remarked, his accent having compulsively turned British. "They just need to find the back of the net."
"That's true, but it doesn't help when you shoot yourselves in the foot like we've done." Nickel had to concede that - the two goals that they had given away were laughable.
By and by the pair of them resumed their commentary. "Mewton to Frei," said Berry, referencing the pass that had just been played. "Driving down the line - Toka is inside if he can find him."
As if the Englishman had been heard, the player named Frei passed the ball inside, just getting it off before a tackle came in. "Nicely done," Berry spoke again.
"Ooh, no," said Nickel, however. The pass itself was poorly played, going straight to an opposition player at least four yards behind where it was supposed to go.
Berry clicked his tongue. "Not nicely done. S**t pass, Frei," he corrected himself. Nickel's ear twitched upon hearing the swear word. "Terrible f**king pass."
Thankfully, a defender cleaned up the mess made by his teammate. "Thank you, Raven," the skunk continued. "If only we could've said that in the first half when you went to clear the ball."
Nickel huffed out a laugh, and only then did Berry seem to remember his company. "Apologies for the aggressive language, but - well, you can tell just how frustrated I'm getting at this match, can't you?"
"Just a little bit," Nickel remarked jokingly, before turning his full attention back to the game. "Win that!"
"Good header. We'll have that back, thank you," Berry followed. "Pollock will get that out wide to Vine. Now look for Sharke. What a s**t ball again!" he suddenly exclaimed once more. "He's right f**king next to you, you p**is!"
Nickel again chuckled somewhat mirthfully at Berry's anger, going unnoticed this time as the passionate Englishman continued to rant. "How hard is it for players to be able to do the basics in this one game for some reason? Frei gets it out; these players can't pass, they can't clear - it doesn't bode well for a positive result, does it?" He sighed. "Come on, lads. Get down the other end of the field and have something positive to say about this match."
That 'something positive' wasn't forthcoming immediately, but it did come, all the way in the eighty-third minute.
The cat and the skunk were getting increasingly frustrated at the performance the team they supported were showing. They had been pushing to get a second to draw level, but every attack was brought to a halt by something or other.
"Come on," Nickel spoke as a deflected cross went out for a corner kick. "Should've put it in earlier."
"Just not acting on instinct," Berry reasoned. "Everything's a half-step too slow."
The corner was taken, and unsurprisingly the ball found no one but a defender. Berry sighed for what must have been the twentieth time. "Please. One moment of quality, from someone. Anyone. Ivan Sharke. Equalises with a banger!" he shouted out as the man whom the ball had fallen to lashed it in from way outside the box. "Get the f**k in! 2-2!"
"Finally, oh my lord. Waited forty-odd minutes for that," Nickel muttered. "Well, there's your bit of quality, Berry."
"And what a time to get it," Berry remarked. "Now we just need to not be stupid and see the game out, and we'll get a point."
"Or, I mean, if they wanna go for three, that's fine too. But again, without being stupid."
No third goal was found for either side, however. The match ended in a draw.
"I'll take that, considering how awfully we played in the first half," Berry said, as the dull post-game interviews were carried out.
"True," Nickel agreed. "And maybe next time, you won't have to swear so much."
The Englishman laughed. "Perhaps. Only time will tell."
They said their goodbyes, and Nickel stepped out of the house and back into the busyness of the City.
Now he needed to find his way back home and explain to Lily why he'd been gone so long.
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Jax the Cat: Twenty-two years old.
Average height at 3'4.5"; relatively slender; light ivory in colour with fur of medium length; hazel green eyes; sandy muzzle; short, frayed tail
Lavender shirt and deep green pantaloons, off-white shoes, white gloves with purple trim
Has a somewhat androgynous voice. Resides in Central City. Works as a freelance driver for tourists, like his British skunk friend. Very generous with whom he considers friends, to the point of being almost overly generous. Self-conscious about his tail - doesn't talk about it a lot. Likes helping others a lot. Does not like death/killing at all.
Likes reading in his spare time. His favourite book is "Journey to the Centre of the Earth", but his favourite series is the Hardy Boys series.
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Berry Ulysses the Skunk: Twenty-three years old.
Way above average at 3'9.33"; well-built, not stocky; short fur with light and dark stripes (slightly tinted red); cerulean eyes; dark-coloured muzzle; giant tail
White tee with amber-and-black neckerchief, black denim jeans, black-and-white shoes with black laces, black gloves with amber stripe
Has a baritone voice with a classy-sounding English accent - hails from East Anglia. Having heard about the war, he was apprehensive about making the trip altogether to Central City, but did so anyway after it ended. Has a sandy-coloured feline friend and tour guide. Is a massive fan of Cambridge United. Has propensity to swear sometimes. Hates his middle name - believes it to be stupid and weird-sounding. Always gets upset at preconceived notions about his scent. Likes football (soccer) a lot. Does not like racism at all.
Has a lot of pride in his tail, like most skunks do. He will, however, request that you ask for his permission first before touching it, unless you're his S/O - or unless you're a young child.