New Beginnings
February 2nd 2023 - U17 Season
You’d think rival GAA teams sharing a school would do something to ease the centuries long rivalry that came to a head at every match form U8’s to senior championship.
Unfortunately ‘Janna Bridge Memorial Secondary School’ did nothing to promote kumbaya, peace, love, hippy shit between Zaun and Piltover.
Nothing probably ever would. As a matter of fact, it made it worse.
Cause Pilties were assholes on and off the pitch.
That and the fact that last year the school hurling team had been cut, so instead of having two teams in different leagues, they had to share a team. Pilties and Zaun kids on the same team - it went about as well as anyone expected.
The posh Pilties coaches didn’t want to play the Zaun kids, even when they were leagues better then the Piltover kids, Vi was one of the few Zaun kids that ever got to start - course Kiramman played every game.
Course, Vi pretended to care, but really, sometimes it was nice to watch her play - she was an artist really. Long limbs that should be a disadvantage, disorganised and clumsy, carried her gracefully across the grass. Kiramman could run from one end of the pitch to the other and still execute the perfect pass, the perfect block or send the ball soaring delicately over the bar.
And she wouldn’t even be out of breath.
That and her skills with the ball were otherworldly, she could use her feet, top of the stick, end of the stick, whatever she liked and she could run circles around you, flicking the ball up in the air, shooting past you and catching it on the bas just to piss you off, weaving in and out of tackles, like the sliotar was glued to her bas.
It drove Vi crazy, it drove her even crazier when Kiramman would sink the ball into the back of the net, smile softly to herself and look to find Vi on the sideline, without fail at every single school game.
Kiramman was maddening.
“What?” Kiramman asked her, a smile playing on her lips as she dropped her muddy jersey into the gear bag Vi held, grinning at her devilishly.
“I just, need to use the bathroom” Vi shrugged nonchalantly, eyeing Kiramman knowingly.
The taller girl arched a slender brow, biting at her lower lip.
“Well, you should go then” she purred, moving past Vi and into the near deserted dressing room, Vi catching a whiff of Kiramman’s sweat, laced with sweet, sweet lavender perfume.
Maddening.
Rough hands pushing smooth slender fingers against the brick bathroom wall.
Fingers toying with the hem of skorts and shorts.
Lips on scarred lips, whispered pleas, suppressed feelings.
Maddening indeed.
Vi told herself it was just curiosity, that she was merely interested in what this could be, in what Kiramman was truly like. She’d never seen much of her at school, their rivalry had been heavy set since before either stepped foot in Janna Bridge Memorial Secondary School. They met most frequently on the pitch, in the height of summer, less so as the long evenings shrank into cold nights.
“We should go” Kiramman breathed, pulling her dark blue hair back into a tight, neat ponytail.
Vi nodded, slowly pulling open the bathroom door to give a quick scan of the dressing room, it was empty - save for the jersey back she had dropped in a flourish to follow Caitlyn into the bathroom.
“All clear” she clicked, her hand slipping around Kiramman’s waist as she pulled the taller girl towards her.
Kiramman hummed, clearly trying for disapproval but the way her body melted under Vi’s touch left little to disapprove of.
“I’ll see you later then” Kiramman said, not a question. Her lips ghosting over Vi’s.
Vi just nodded, feeling her core clench as Kiramman’s breath warmed her face.
“If I still like you after training” Vi shrugged “Coach might have some dirt”
Kiramman pushed her away scoffing, but her eyes sparkled with amusement, she made for the door, pausing as she slipped the bolt lock to the side, turning back to Vi.
“We’re not gonna, go insane and hate each other once the season starts, are we?” she asked quietly, the questioning hanging in the air between them.
The past three months had been fun, their unorthodox friendship (with insane benefits) had helped ease the sting of having to play with Pilties, in fact Vi wouldn’t done it years ago if she’d known it would lead to this.
“Me, insane? No” Vi shrugged, waving the tension away just at it had settled in the echoing bathroom.
Kiramman’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, the tiniest micro expression that Vi had grown all too familiar with.
“Okay then” Kiramman sighed, blowing Vi a kiss as she dipped out of the bathroom.
Vi turned back to face the sink, the aged mirror on the way captured a face; an expression Vi didn’t quite recognise.
This shit with Kiramman was just some fun, trying shit out. She hadn’t meant for her heart to race every time Kiramman so much as met her gaze, never meant to crave the feeling of her soft skin. Never meant to want her, in more ways than how she had her now.
“Ah well” Vi muttered, pushing herself off of the sink and pulling her shirt back on as she left the bathroom.
Anything she felt towards Kiramman would surely dissipate as the school season as teammates ended and the GAA season as rivals began. It had to.
—-
Vi felt like a fucking failure for weeks after the semi final. Sevika’s words haunted her everywhere she went ‘You should’ve let her take the point’. Ten seconds left, she knew that, Kiramman must’ve known that, so why did Vi do it? She hardly knew herself.
She’d gotten a hell of a lecture from Vander about sportsmanship and good conduct on the pitch, he’d been more enraged by the dirty tackle than the reasoning for it.
“Why’d you do it? Why stoop that low?”
The words hung in the air, she could feel her adoptive father’s eyes on her, feel her sister’s presence just around the corner.
“I thought” she sighed “I thought that if she kept running she’d get a goal”
Vander sighed, running a large palm down his face.
“With ten seconds left? She was looking to level it” He scoffed “But that’s not the point”
Vi bit back her anger, he was acting like she’d smashed her hurley over Kiramman’s knees. Like her actions in the dying seconds of the game were what made them lose.
“Look, I’m sorry, but, it’s done know, Piltover are gonna win the cup again, story of my fucking life” She scoffed, a bitter anger seizing control, unable to stop herself.
“You’re the captain Vi” Vander growled “You need to be setting a better example for your team, for Powder, I know Piltover are annoying, I know Kiramman gets under your skin, but she would never make a play like that and I think that’s what annoys you the most”
Vi looked up in protest, but Vander’s stern gaze made her stifle whatever words were bubbling in her throat. Instead she scoffed and stood up, not caring to be excused. She passed Powder in the hall, wide eyes staring.
“Stop eavesdropping Pow” Vi snapped, storming into her room with a slam of the door.
She would never make a play like that, she didn’t have to, she never would have to. Maybe that’s what annoyed Vi the most.
“Whatever” Vi muttered, curling up into a ball on her bed, trying in vain to banish any and all thoughts of the game, and of Kiramman, from her mind.
—-
Zaun were taking no chances this year. Older age group meant tougher games, maybe further afield, maybe teams they’d never played. They also got their first run in the Championship, a knockout competition Zaun had never taken part in, until now.
Sevika was adamant that an early start to the season would give them an edge on the competition, namely Piltover - Vi didn’t have the heart to tell her that Piltover had been training for two weeks indoors.
She and Kiramman had promised that any intel they shared with each other about their respective teams would stay between them, should they ever talk about hurling.
They avoided it best they could.
Vi pulled her gear bag and her hurley with her helmet slipped through the handle out of the front seat of Vander’s truck, Powder hopping out of the back with her own gear.
Powder let out a low whistle as she surveyed the field, an array of multicoloured poles stuck out of the ground, along with series of cones in various arrangements dotted the entire length of the field.
“She’s really gonna put us through the wringer” Powder mused, nudging Vi with her elbow.
“Oh yeah” Vi chuckled, taking a step forward, noting Sevika and Benzo having words by the training gear bags.
Vander came up behind the two of them, placing his broad hands on either of their shoulders.
“See you lot in an hour and a half” he hummed, smiling between the two of them.
“Oh, I actually think I’m gonna hang back, spend some time at the ball wall, if that’s okay?” Vi said, she didn’t really care if he thought it was okay or not, choice was an illusion after all, plus Vander wouldn’t have a problem with it.
The ball wall was the perfect excuse, since she was a kid she’d gone to the ball wall, almost exclusively by herself to bash out a problem; nothing like the dull repetition of a swing and catch, the ball coming back to her hand each and every time, whether she hit it along the ground, hit it with a bounce, straight ahead or high in the air, the sliotar would come back like a boomerang one.
Because she’d made such a habit of going solo to the ball wall, no one would be suspicious of her rendezvous with Kiramman. A win all around.
“Sure kid, just don’t be out too late” he shrugged, none the wiser; tousling her hair lightly as Sevika blew her whistle, beckoning the two sisters down.
“Wish us luck” Powder grimaced, blessing herself as she took a deep step down the embankment towards the pitch.
Vi rolled her eyes, opting to take the safer way down to the lower pitch, only ever really used for trainings and some of the much younger kids games. Zauns GAA complex was anything but impressive. They only had one pitch that could function as such, the other was so waterlogged it barely worked as a training pitch. The dressing rooms were down a ridiculously steep path that didn’t even have safe steps (Powder had busted her ass so many times in her studs Vi had lost count) and the dugouts were centuries old, rusting panels and a singular wooden bench that gave you splinters if you touched it with your fingers.
But Vi would be a damned liar if she said she didn’t love it.
It had that unmistakable charm that all places in Zaun seem to have, that rugged, rough around the edges but soft in the inside feel. It wasn’t much but it was all they had, and the years of wear and tear only spoke to the community it housed - vibrant, unique and determined.
“Welcome back” Sevika grunted as Vi dropped her gear bag, water bottle and her hurling and helmet onto the ground, pulling her cropped hair back the best she could into a low bun at the base of her skull, hair tie in her mouth.
She grunted in response, scanning the setup for the training, coloured poles and cones littered the field.
“Good season with the school?” Sevika continued, dropping a draw bag of sliotars by their feet.
Vi nearly flicked her bobble out of her mouth as she resisted the urge to drop her jaw - that wasn’t what Sevika was implying, it couldn’t be.
“Good” Vi said, having pulled the bobble from her mouth, that was probably safer.
One thing was abundantly clear about her, thing, with Kiramman - no one could ever know. That was something they had both agreed on. It would complicate everything, have people hating them, coaches hating them, friends hating them, really their, thing, was going nowhere - but damn was it fucking incredible, recently Vi had been questioning if she wanted it to go nowhere, if she was truly content with that.
The season would change that, is what she kept telling herself, if she didn’t hate Kiramman by the end, Vi would hate her for sure.
Oh well.
—-
“Well, how was it” an accented voice called, Vi looked up the stands, slabs of concrete crafted to form steps and seats that overlooked the Zaun home field.
Kiramman came to a halt next to where Vi sat, her eyes scanning around the field, there would be no one here now, not unless someone decided to stay late to work on the ball wall, the distinct lack of sliotar against wall suggesting otherwise.
Zaun was desolate like that, especially up by the woods, kids were scared to come up unless matches were on, and people seldom walked their dogs near the dumping ground behind the ball wall.
“Fine” Vi grumbled, unwrapping her hands, eyes scanning the newly used pitch, stud marks still etched into the ground, the areas around the goal permanently grassless from decades of scraps and anxious keepers.
Kiramman dropped to a seat next to her.
She wasn’t dressed for training, Pilties trained on Mondays, Thursdays and the odd Saturday, Zaun trained Tuesdays and Sundays.
Instead Kiramman wore a vintage leather coat, loose dark blue jeans and a knit sweater. Vi watched Kiramman, as Kiramman scanned the field.
“Intense looking” she mused; turning to meet Vi’s silvery gaze.
Vi dropped the used wraps to the ground, reaching up and tucking a loose strand of Kiramman’s flowing, impossibly silky hair behind her ear. Careful so that the strands didn’t catch in any of Kiramman’s piercings.
It was one of the things that had surprised Vi the most about Kiramman; the insane amount of piercings she had, in both ears. Naturally when playing the would all have to be taken out, but casually Kiramman wore a ton, coating the outer shells of her ears like an armour, Vi figured it was some sort of rebellious streak - she couldn’t be sure though.
“Very” Vi breathed, not missing the way Kiramman’s cheeks went a few shades darker despite the cold and the way she leaned into Vi’s touch as her hands cupped Kiramman’s cheek.
“We ought to get moving” Kiramman whispered, standing smoothly, slipping her hand into Vi’s. “It’s not getting any warmer out here”
“Isn’t it?” Vi teased, throwing her small gear bag over her shoulder.
A while later they lay panting in the back of Kiramman’s car, Kiramman’s jeans and underwear bundled at her ankles, Vi’s own thrown haphazardly into the boot when they’d started. She now lay on top of the taller girl, limbs intertwined.
Vi absentmindedly stroked the soft skin of Kiramman’s collarbone.
“I was serious y’know?” Kiramman spoke, soft fingers running through Vi’s haired, Vi only hummed.
Kiramman shifted, moving to sit up against the backseat door, Vi tutted softly as she pushed herself up onto her elbows.
“We won’t go insane on each other?” She said quietly, repeating the question from earlier, this time with more sincerity, her eyes shone with something Vi couldn’t quite place.
“You’re worried?” Vi scoffed, trying to play it off, but the look on Kiramman’s face made her heart pang.
“A little” Kiramman whispered, wrapping her knees up towards her chest. “It’s just, I know how much it means to you, to me as well, I don’t want things to change”
Vi let out an exasperated sigh, swinging her legs out from underneath her and opening her arms, gesturing for Kiramman to come nearer.
She obliged, crawling into Vi’s open arms, settling her head on the crook of Vi’s shoulder. Vi inhaled her scent like, closing her eyes and feeling the warmth of the other girl, the girl she hated 3 months ago and now, the girl she looked forward to seeing every day.
“We just keep it separate, what happens on the field stays on the field” Vi mused, her fingers tracing Kiramman’s upper arm. “It would be silly really, wouldn’t it? If we, y’know, fell out over this”
Kiramman hummed in agreement, nuzzling further into Vi’s chest.
“You sure you can do that?”
The words hung in the suddenly thick air, Vi sighed lightly, tracing circles on the smooth, soft skin of Kiramman’s back.
“I am sorry”
Kiramman shuffled to look up at her, eyebrows drawn ever so slightly. Her mussed hair cascading around her eyes.
“About?”
Vi chewed at her lip, unable to meet her eyes. Shame bubbling up in her, trying to shove it back down
“Last year” she mumbled, barely above a whisper.
To her surprise, Kiramman laughed lightly, reaching up to pull Vi’s face toward her, finally meeting her eyes. Blue in the way that comforted her and simultaneously bore into her sole, eyes that stripped her down and built her back up, eyes she could barely meet and yet wanted to look at all the time, wanted to fall into and never return from.
Ah well. Fuck.
Kiramman’s thumb gently stroked her cheek.
“I’m over it” she hummed, eyes lowering to Vi’s scarred lip. “Way over it”.
Vi had closed the gap between them so fast. It didn’t change much about how she felt about last year’s game, the shame she felt from her family and team would probably never go away. But she would be lying if Kiramman’s words hadn’t eased her shame somewhat.
Kiramman pressed into her harder, Vi’s hands sliding down Kiramman’s ass and squeezing, eliciting a slight moan from the taller girl.
To Vi’s dismay, Kiramman pulled away, tutting slightly, biting at her lower lip in a way Vi thought Kiramman must’ve known drove her crazy.
“I should go” she sighed, sitting back on her haunches, looking at Vi with a cloudy expression. Vi hated when she looked at her like that - like Vi was some sort of puzzle she was trying to figure out, Kiramman’s gaze was one of the only things that made her sweat, something she daren’t show the other girl.
Vi cleared her throat, nodding as she felt her cheeks flush hot and pink, rifling through Kiramman’s boot for the shorts they’d discarded a long time ago.
“Sure thing Cupcake” Vi muttered, aiming for light but failing, still feeling Kiramman’s gaze boring into her.
She really wished she could put a finger on it. She worried she would never be able to.
Kiramman reached forward, a strong slender hand cupping Vi’s face, a manicured thumb stroking the crest of Vi’s rosy cheeks.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Kiramman asked softly, sucking all of Vi’s oxygen out of her longs with one glance. Big blue eyes unsure, questioning.
Vi nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
Curiosity, that’s all it was with Kiramman.
With Caitlyn.
“Okay” Kiramman breathed, her eyes darting down to Vi’s lips, her thumb following the path to gently run over the marred skin of her scar. Vi couldn’t help but lean into her touch.
She hated how soft she became under Kiramman’s touch, how pathetic she felt whenever Kiramman dared lock eyes with her in school, the two of them sharing this secret, this fantasy, stolen kisses in bathroom stalls and abandoned hallways, around the back of the school building of in the empty dressing rooms of the school pitch.
It was all electrifying - like a drug that Vi had become violently and irrevocably addicted too.
A dangerous secret that could ruin everything.
But fuck it was it worth it. Was she worth it.
Vi left Kiramman with a peck on the lips and a promise of tomorrow. Watching her former rivals car trundle down the dirt path Vi sighed.
She’d really fucked up.
—-
Saturday October 15th - 2024 (U16 Season - County Semi Final) - T- 1 hour till game time
“It’s like we’ve always said, we’ve been playing this exact team for ten goddamn years!” Sevika growled, pacing around the changing room as the Zaun team sat, knees bouncing in anticipation.
Vi picked at the frayed edges of her ancient black and red grip, sweat soaked an worn from years of playing, years of spinning it in her palms, years of rolling and jabbing, swatting and blocking, pucking and passing.
“We know their tricks, we know their players - it’s nothing new” She went on, exasperation coating every word “Powder, I want you tight on Steb, once he’s gone he’s gone, we know this!”
Next to her, Vis little sister stiffened. She’d been called up when Vi was in under 14’s, the Zaun team often lost players as they got older, with work and school becoming too demanding, the younger stock of players were brought up to fill the gaps - Powder being one of them.
Powder just nodded, chewing at her lower lip, she was just 15 and eager to prove herself. In the last game against Piltover, this kid Steb had walked all over her, Powder almost pitched a fit, and was given a yellow card by the referee, something that haunted her for the rest of the season.
“Mylo, keep the cover on Claggor, watch out for Talis’ shoulder, capiche?” Sevika instructed, pointing to their screaming full back, who nodded in determination.
“And Vi” Sevika said, a note of finality, the two locked eyes, Vi’s task already crystal clear, from the moment they knew who they were playing, from the first training since the quarter finals, since Sevika had pulled her aside before the pep talk, before she would even pull her aside again right before they went out on the pitch, “Hard and fast”
Vi nodded, her whole body shaking with electricity, with the need to prove herself once more. She thought of Caitlyn last night, wishing her luck, kissing her softly on the lips before she left her, standing cold and alone under the bridge.
Was this how it would always be?
“Alright, come on, let’s go make the parish proud!” Sevika roared and the dressing room erupted into cheers.
“It’s okay to be nervous Pow” Vi teased, wrapping her arm around her sisters slender shoulders as the walked from the dressing room to the pitch, the stands already filling up with supporters from both sides.
It was a crisp October evening, the sun long set as the blinding LED of the fancy Piltover flood lights shone over the freshly painted and manicured pitch.
Already Vi could feel the rain in the air. Playing an outdoor sport, you learned pretty quickly as the months darkened when an evening would be cold and dry or cold and wet - tonight would be wet, certainly.
The rain always brought a new edge to the game. Hurleys were slippy, the sliotar even slippier. The ground was unsteady, jersey’s clung to bodies and legs became red raw and blue in the freezing country rain. Rain games always ended up being the most brutal, the most desperate - not bad atmosphere for a semi final.
“I’m not” Powder scoffed, attempting to shake her sister off, but Vi just jostled her closer.
“Sure” Vi coaxed, deciding to leave her stew, words of comfort did nothing before games this important, no amount of assurance could put the thought of failure behind, especially when an mistake in this game could cast them the win. One puck of the ball and the game was over. It was that simple.
The Piltover team were already out, warming up in strict lines, stripped of their half zips, bare arms and legs already adjusting to the cold. Vi scanned the team running around cones in lines, balancing the sliotar on their sticks before hand passing to the next in line with a slap of their palm to the sliotar.
Her eyes wandered to the goal on the far end of the field, and there she was, of course, there she was.
Target practice.
She shook the thought from her mind. She could take her, she might be the only person in the whole division who could challenge her. So she had to make it count tonight.
They’d been playing a blinder of a season, only losing on match to the Pilties very early on, setting them on the back foot. Luckily they recovered, dominating over the Ionians in the quarter finals.
“Alright, let’s get warmed up; match starts in fifteen!” Sevika roared, dumping the string bag of sliotars onto the ground “Pair up, striking on the ground to start, then to the hand - go”
Vi and Powder headed down to a quiet corner of the pitch, shooting the sliotar to and fro, Powders aim was a little wobbly and her touch could definitely need some work, but Powder was a crafty defence woman, her skills had time to develop, but the wat she wrangled forward, having them dance around themselves in rucks, couldn’t be taught.
“Are you nervous” Powder asked pointedly, having shot Vi a wobbly pass to the hand with her bad side.
Vi stepped to the left casually, catching it and lobbing it over easily to her sister’s outstretched palm.
“A little” Vi admitted, hoping to ease her sister’s nerves somewhat by admitting to her own.
Powder just nodded in acknowledgment, sending the sliotar skimming along the grass towards Vi’s feet, the ball sending water droplets up into the air like fireworks.
At that moment, the referee blew the whistle, signalling for the two captains to meet in the middle for the fortuitous coin toss.
“Vi!” Sevika called, beckoning her over to her.
“Wish me luck!” Vi laughed, humourlessly, shooting Powder a coy grin as she jogged back up to the dugout where her coach stood waiting.
Sevika eyed the oppositions dugout, as the Piltover Captain made her way to the referee, extending her hand in greeting.
“No funny business alright” Sevika warned “Which way is the wind?”
Vi crouched down, picking up a few blades of grass and letting them fall back through her fingers as she rose, the wind gently caught them, blowing them weakly away from her.
“I’ll go for down that way to start so” Vi mused, following the blades of grass to the optimal goal
“Good, get us our first win of the night alright?” Sevika enthused, giving her a strong pat on the shoulder as the referee impatiently blew his whistle once more.
Vi nodded, jogging out to the centre of the field, trying to calm the nerves bubbling up inside her as she met the gold eyes of the other team’s captain.
Mimicking the formality her opponent showed earlier Vi extended her hand to the referee, an average middle aged man, who shook it primly.
“Shake hands girls” he grunted, gesturing to the pair.
Both girls paused, eyeing each other like they both had knives behind the backs instead of hurley’s.
Mel Medarda extended her smooth, perfectly manicured hands first, her face ever stoic, at first Vi had wondered why Medarda had been captain, her skills weren’t exactly up to par with some of the others in her team, but as the years went on Vi realised that Medarda’s cool composure gave the Pilties a certain advantage compared to the hotheaded Zaunites. Even admitting that now irked her, so she squeezed a little harder as her calloused hands wrapped around Mel’s. The other girls face remaining unchanged, save for the forced smile she gave her.
“Away team get first dips, heads or tails?” the referee said, straight to business
Vi thought for a moment; looking down the field at the windward facing goal, then to Mel; who’s gold eyes were fixated on her, almost goading her, a ghost of a smirk on her face.
“Tails” Vi grumbled.
The referee grunted acknowledgment, placing the coin of his fingers and with practiced perfection, flicking it up with his thumb and catching it with his other hand.
“Heads win, Piltover where do you wanna start?” he asked, Vi cursed internally, just her luck, losing the coin toss meant losing the advantage, who knew what the weather would be like in 45 minutes, the wind could be completely died down by then.
“That way please” Mel said, her posh accent dragging in Vi’s psyche like nails in a chalkboard.
It was almost enough to distract her from the fact that Mel had pointed to the opposite side of the field that Vi had wanted. Almost.
Her head snapped to Mel’s, eyes narrowing, what kind of tactic was this? The wind was strong enough to have an impact on scoring, playing against it was kinda stupid - what the fuck kind of tactic was this?
“Very well, best of luck to you both” the referee shrugged, waving them both off as he scribbled something in his notepad.
Less than ten minutes later the teams were lining out. A final message from Sevika involved vague threats of being taken off if you weren’t pulling your weight, the usual crap - leave it all out there. She’s told them. Leave it all out there.
“One, two, three ZAUN” they chanted, hurleys stacked on top of each other, breaking apart and lining out. No chatter, no cheering, this was serious.
The Pilties took a little longer lining out, Vi watching as their scary looking couch spoke emphatically to them on the sidelines.
They broke away without a chant, without a celebration they were cold and calculated, and tonight they would go down.
Vi’s face hardened as the players slotted in across the field, scanning, scanning, and there she was again. Long legs, the number 11 on her chest, long fingers clutching a blue and yellow gripped hurley to her chest, ‘KIRAMMAN’ written in Sharpie across the middle of the handle.
Her face was inscrutable, her narrowed eyes scanning the field, the goal behind her, the stands, before finally landing on Vi.
Without a word she settled in next to her, practically shoulder to shoulder, slipping the middle of her hurley handle further down the crevice of her thumb and index finger, so the wood just before the bas rested in the groove - the ready position.
“We meet again” Vi quipped, leaning on her hurley casually as the referee checked his watch.
“Don’t sound too happy” Kiramman scoffed, not taking her eyes off of the ball in the referees hand.
“I’m only delighted” Vi continued, nudging her slightly with the top of her handle.
Kiramman only tutted, her face obscured slightly by the mask of her helmet, eyes still trained on her target.
“This is gonna be fun” Vi grumbled, crouching down, ever so slightly digging the toe of her hurl into the soft ground.
Vi locked in on the ball, the midfielders already tussling slightly, crouching down shoulder to shoulder - Ekko and a Piltie named Loris, the muscle. Vi swore you could hear a pin drop as the referee started his watched, blew his whistle and gently dropped the sliotar into the scrum.
Then all hell broke loose.
Then it all went to shit really.