milliways_bar | (no subject)

Apparently pure spite is not enough to keep Tommy's door from opening up into Milliways. However, he is on-duty at the firehouse, and he has no desire to take a break or grab something at the bar or meet with anyone in particular -- he's just too busy and distracted to care. It won't be a big deal to step right back through his door.

Well. Except for the hockey game on TV.

Rabastan, have one fireman standing behind the couch with his eyes glued to the screen.

Edited 2013-03-10 17:13 (UTC)

He knows you're there, even if he doesn't turn to look. Good senses now.

On the screen, the visiting team has just made a spectacular save, and the commentators are chattering about it.

Something about it being one for the nightly "plays of the day" reel.

...the bowl of popcorn is offered...

[Sorry for not tagging sooner. I seem to be keeping nights. :I]

"Ooh, damn, that was a good shot!" The set-up and execution were stellar, but the goaltender was definitely on his toes.

Tommy tears his gaze away from the replay long enough to blink down at the bowl of popcorn being offered.

"Oh. Thanks."

He grabs a handful and pops a couple of kernels into his mouth.

"Mind if I...?" he says, gesturing at an empty spot on the couch.

"You're quite welcome."

Rabastan, sadly, can't offer much by way of analysis. Hockey is not his sport. He'll accept what others say is "good".

"Sure. Go ahead."

"Cool."

He comes around the side of the couch and sits down, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, eyes fixed on the screen again. It's obvious that hockey is Tommy's sport.

"Jeezus, it's been a while since I've had the time to just sit down and watch a game. You a fan, too?"

Oh good. Now Rabastan has someone to explain the ins and outs. Because he's got lots of questions about hockey.

He notes that there are some similarities between hockey and the sport he does know: Quidditch. The puck's as important to hockey as the snitch is to Quidditch, if for different reasons.

"Afraid not. I don't really know what's going on." Then, "It is fascinating though."

Edited 2013-03-11 04:30 (UTC)

Oh good. Tommy has someone to listen to him blabber on and on about hockey.

"It's pretty simple, really. Obviously the object of the game is to get the puck in the other team's goal, using only their sticks. The action's quick, but I think it's easy to follow. Of course there's lots of rules and penalties and whatnot involved, but since its only the first period, I'm sure you'll get to see how it all works. And hey, who knows, a fight might break out."

He helps himself to another handful of popcorn.

Huzzah!

He turns to look at Tommy.

"Is that important to the game? Do you get more points for fighting?"

"There was a fight and a hockey game broke out" is not a joke he's heard before.

"Uh-- no, no points" he replies, smirking. "You get a penalty for fighting, five minutes off the ice, which means your team will be a man short while play goes on. And it's not important, per se, it's just, y'know, a sorta traditional part of the game. There's rivalries, personal grudges, people pissing each other off with illegal moves. I mean, I should know, I've pulled off every underhanded move in the book while the referees weren't looking. It's pretty much an art form."

No, it's not, Tommy, it's just you being a prick.

Don Cherry might think there was an art to fighting. Rock'Em Sock'Em anyone?

"Oh. Yes," he nods. "That would make sense."

He means all the reasons for fighting. Underhanded tactics are a part of any sport—even ones he's familiar with.

"So. What about those guys? The commentator said these two teams have a long history together."

[Which two teams do you think might be playing tonight? Tommy's favourite versus...?

"These guys? The Chicago Blackhawks and the Toronto Maple Leafs. Yeah, you could say they've got a long history -- they're part of the Original Six. And by Original Six, I mean that there were only six National Hockey League teams for like, twenty-five years before the league expanded in 1967." He counts off on his fingers: "There were the Blackhawks, the Maple Leafs, the Boston Bruins, the New York Rangers, the Detroit Red Wings, and the Montreal Canadiens. All of 'em are great teams and have fantastic track records-- aw, shit! That was close!"

One of the Maple Leafs had just slapped the puck toward the net, but it ricocheted off the goal post. Disappointed, but still thrilled with the play, Tommy reaches for some more popcorn.

"So, what's your favorite sport? If it ain't hockey, yet. Heh."

That's two more teams than Hogwarts has. He wonders how many games were played during the time there were only six teams.

Not many, he decides.

"Well, there's not many where I originally come from, but Quidditch was always enjoyable, even if I wasn't as serious about it as so many people are."

[Is Tommy a Leafs fan or a Blackhawks fan? :3]

"Quidditch? Oh, hey, cool, I know Quidditch. Well, I heard of Quidditch, never actually saw a match or anything. A girl I know here told me about it, said she plays it, the whole flyin' around on brooms and stuff."

He sounds very nonchalant about it for a guy whose world doesn't have magic or witches or wizards.

[Tommy would lean more toward the Leafs.]

If he's surprised that Tommy knows what Quidditch is, he doesn't show it. Seven years in the bar has gotten him quite used to the idea of "Muggles know what Quidditch is".

"It's a little like this game of hockey. But instead of having three different types of ball, there's just a puck to determine score with, and everyone seems to be equal parts Seeker and Chaser, except those the commentators call 'goalies'. They'd be Keepers in Quidditch."

It's nice that there are similarities between the two sports. It makes it easier to translate from one to the other.

"Yeah, the way it was described to me, it kinda sounded like a cross between basketball and hockey, what with it bein' a contact sport an' all. But there are actually other different positions in hockey, they just aren't that obvious to a casual observer, I guess, 'cause it does look like everybody's tryin' to do the same job. There's players called forwards, made up of a centre and a left and right wing, and two defensemen. I play right wing -- mostly I'm in charge of knocking opponents against the walls and getting the puck away from 'em."

This is demonstrated onscreen as one of the Blackhawks rams a Leaf into the boards, making the plexiglass shudder audibly, and a contained battle amongst the players ensues, sticks clacking loudly as they fight to get the puck out of the corner of the rink.

"You ever played Quidditch yourself?"

"I guess if you played Quidditch you'd sort of be like a Beater."

Yes. It's so much easier when you have similarities.

"Basketball... I don't think I've watched that before. But yes, I did play a little. Tried out for the House team, but I was passed over for someone who was a bit shorter than I am*, and had better eyes for spotting the Snitch."

[*Rabastan is about 5'7" in my mind's eye.]

A Beater. Well, given Tommy's propensity for brawling on and off the ice, it's an apt name.

"The Snitch...what is that again, exactly? And speaking of height, in basketball, everyone's like six-feet and taller 'cause they hafta get the ball into the baskets without the help of flying brooms."

Rabastan indicates something roughly the size of a walnut.

"Small. Winged. Bloody fast. You need good eyes to be a Seeker."

Pause.

"I'd like to see that." He grabs the TV guide, flipping to see if one is on after the hockey game. As it happens, yes there is. "There's a game later. 'Nets versus Wizards'."

Is someone trying to be funny? Yes, yes. They are. :3

"Wow. That's pretty damn small. A hockey puck is about this big--" (Tommy makes a circle with his fingers that's about three inches in diameter) "--so yeah, good eyes is a plus all around."

Munching on some more popcorn, he glances over at him as he checks the TV guide, and then utters a short chuckle.

"Ah, the Nets. They suck. And I ain't just sayin' that 'cause they're from New Jersey. Or, well, maybe I am."

"And they're playing a mostly two-dimensional game. No up and down in hockey."

That, plus puck size, makes it easier on the eyes.

[Unless you were one of those geniuses who, back in the mid-90's, thought giving the puck a blue or red streak would make it easier to see, in which case, you need to adjust your prescription.]

"Then let's hope the Wizards win."

He's not saying that because he is one. Or maybe he is.

"Wizards all the way, man," he agrees with a smirk.

Brushing crumbs and butter grease from his hands, he then extends one toward him to shake.

"Been talking all this time and I don't even know your name. I'm Tommy, Tommy Gavin. From New York City."