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WHO: Tenma and all other soccer enthusiasts/filthy casuals
WHAT: Marathoning the past two World Cups. In Spanish.
WHERE: Student lounge, or any space with a TV if they get kicked out
WHEN: Evening of September 27th, leaks to other days/nights
WARNING(S): Soccer. Maybe language

Snacks? Check.

Drinks? Check.

Setting early claims on the couch and TV in the student lounge? Check-a-roony.

Getting a laptop somehow connected to the TV? Check...?

Tenma gave a great sigh of relief. It wasn't an easy battle, but he managed to get everything set up for a World Cup marathon or two. Missing five years of his life meant he would miss a World Cup for sure. Unfortunately, the timing was bad enough to make him miss two tournaments. Two whole tournaments! But this time around, the stars aligned in his favor. He knew everyone needed a distraction, himself included, from the recent events that happened. Tonight, he wasn't going to worry about Jon Sublime, President Kelly, or the U-Men. He was going to have a great time with his friends and if someone tried to rain on his parade, he had plans. If someone wanted him to move, he knew of alternate rooms he could host this marathon. If someone tried to get him to go to bed, he would argue finishing up whatever match they were watching before continuing in the morning. If the power went out... Well he didn't have a plan for that, but he would just wing it if it came to that.

Nothing was going to stop him.

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In an attempt to become more integrated with American and worldwide culture, Elsa is actually... showing up to this event. Sorry, she's a filthy casual.

She walks in the room wearing a dress that's probably too formal for a night of pigging out and watching soccer, but she gives Tenma a little wave as she approaches the couch. "Good evening."

Tenma notices Elsa from his position on the couch and waves to her enthusiastically.

"Hello!" He greets cheerfully. He scoots over, squishing against one of his neighbors, and pats down on the couch. He appears to be offering her a seat.

Oh dear.

Elsa apologises quickly to the person Tenma crushed, but takes the seat regardless, worming around a little as she tries to settle in. She's sinking in much further than she has any right to be; this part of the couch seems to be broken.

"I... confess that I don't know much about this sport," she begins.

Tenma doesn't notice the any problems with the couch. It seems like he's used to broken couches, but he does notice that Elsa seems to be a little uncomfortable. He offers her a sheepish smile.

"I can help explain what's happening if you'd like." He said. "Do you know the basics already?"

[1]

Shindou had come equipped for the long haul tonight. Though still in his kit jersey and shorts following afternoon practice - it'd seemed somewhat pointless to change for the occasion - he slipped into the room loaded down with supplies. A thermos of tea steeping, so there'd be no running off for drinks, a box of various sweets sent from back home, and his book-bag slung over one shoulder, just so he could get some homework done during slower-paced games...he was well-prepared. This had the makings of a whole-weekend affair, after all, trying to cram nearly two months of soccer into a few nights.

"Did you get everything hooked up alright?" he asked Tenma, before staking out a spot on one corner of the main couch in front of the TV. He nestled up against the thing's arm, then whipped his Italian textbook out onto his knees.

The more time he got in being responsible at the margins, the easier it'd be to justify staying a couch potato most of the weekend.

[2]

Once the screening was actually underway, Shindou stayed glued to the screen, more or less. He'd sneak homework back out for some of the more hopeless group stage matches, but beyond that...there weren't many teams he didn't at least have a few favored players he was ready to follow and chat about.

Outside of Japan's games, it tended to be the European squads that got him excited, though. Italy not doing better was disappointing, but the way Spain got dismantled in the group stage...! He was barely able to stay on the couch.

And the German squad? Shindou might've had a crush. Their control of posession and the flexibility of all their midfielders, and...gosh, did you know how young most of the team is? (He occasionally slipped on remembering that these were all matches from years ago.)

When they got to the team's match against Brazil - and the 5-nil lead the Deutsch squad put up in the first twenty minutes - all of Shindou's usual composure flickered right out:

"Oh -- oh, wow -- " And, then, in breathless Japanese, "Did you see that? That's incredible. "

[3]

But, eventually, the marathon marched on into the wee hours. Between matches, Shindou ducked out to go put up his books and re-up on tea...and padded back into the lounge in a set of cozy, white pajamas and slippers. There was basically no chance that this was going to end before they literally started passing out, right?

Best to be prepared.

"Who's up next...?" he asked the room, suppressing a yawn as he wound a blanket he'd carried down from the dorms around himself. (He wasn't offering, but it was probably big enough to accommodate another body or two.)

Tenma was happy when Shindou showed up, though disappointed that his senpai brought books with him. Why study when there's soccer to catch up on? Not that he was one to talk, with his abysmal grades being enough to hold him back an entire year. It wasn't his fault English was so hard!

"I got it to work somehow!" Tenma beamed. He even pulled up video of pugs playing around on his laptop, which was mirrored on the television screen.

"Oh, good - I was worried we wouldn't be able to get it set up in time."

One could add fussing with A/V equipment onto the list, along with cooking and laundry and similar minutiae, of things Shindou'd never had to bother caring about. And, with the hazard of having to care deftly avoided again tonight, he settled for a quick, muted chuckle at the puppies romping around on the TV screen before starting to flick through his Italian vocab.

"We're starting with the 2014 group matches, right?" A pause. A vaguely guilty twitch to an otherwise easy smile. "Did you look up any of the results at all?"

Truth be told, his telekinesis helped out immensely with plugging and unplugging things. Not that it was necessary to reveal that information.

"I saw who the winner was, but I only heard the final match was amazing." Tenma confessed. "Even though I know the results, I still want to see each match with my own eyes."

"Of course! I checked some of the scores, too - " Read: mostly all of them. "But it's not the same as seeing it for yourself."

Shindou nodded firmly, then edged more firmly up against the far end of the sofa, so he could indicate the space beside him. They were the first ones there, but it just wouldn't do if he wasn't able to point out his favorite players to Tenma mid-game or get up a miniature cheer-squad for Japan's matches.

"Do you want to go ahead and queue up the first match? Hopefully people will start showing up soon..."

"I didn't have time to watch any of the matches." He mused. "So I'm glad we're doing this now."

It was mostly true. Between waking up, getting things together, classes, the Sublime rally, and Kelly's address, there was no possible time to watch the World Cup straight through. It was also something he wanted to experience with friends, a feat he was never able to accomplish back home. Even with his first friend, she didn't want to sit through the match with him without wanting to do something else.

"Okay, we can recap if people want to know what's going on."

A few clicks and an automatic ad later, the first match began to stream.

"Sure. It'll take a few minutes before kickoff, anyway..."

What with the commentators offering prelude to the Cup's opening fixture, while both teams marched out onto the field. Not that Shindou could understand a lick of it (the Spanish announcing was already coming at an enthusiastic clip), but...that didn't matter much in the end. He could fill in just fine, leaning forward to indicate some of the more noteworthy players warming up.

Hopefully Tenma really wanted to hear all about the more exciting luminaries on the Croatian national team? Brazil's side went without saying, of course, with Neymar...but, on the other end of things, Mandžukić was the leading scorer for Bayern that season! (Before he left for Madrid, obviously.) And Modric and Rakitic would be great in the center...

Fortunately, there wasn't too much of a wait before the teams set up for the match's first kick, and Shindou hushed, settling back.

"It's still so exciting, waiting for it to start..." Even though it was over and they had missed it. "It's strange."

Shindou seemed so happy to be talking about the different players that Tenma didn't have the heart to tell his senpai that he was prattling too fast. It seemed to him that the older boy never had a chance to do so, or at least he couldn't for five years, and there was no way he could take that away from him. So Tenma sat with a smile, listening and nodding. He did take note when Shindou mentioned something particularly interesting, but it was between things he could barely understand.

"I don't think it's that strange." Tenma finally said at the kickoff. "Soccer was just waiting for us."

"Hm?"

It was funny how, after so much time spent listening to Tenma since they'd met, the midfielder's declarations about soccer could still give him pause at times. But they could, and Shindou had to sit back for a second, head quirked, before he nodded comfortably.

Tenma had his own way of saying it, but that really was what it felt like -- home-y and almost welcoming, where so many things since they'd come back were simply strange.

"I guess that makes sense," he agreed, settling in to watch the back-and-forth of the game.

"No matter what happens, no matter how much the world changes, we will always have soccer." Tenma concluded. Yes, in those five years they spent asleep, when all their cherished friends from Raimon grew up and their good times became distant memories, soccer remained the same. There were different games and strategies now, but at its core, it was a comforting constant, as it always had been.

It was hard to put into words, but it seemed to make Shindou happy, so he guessed he conveyed his feelings through. He is content to watch the match, and jumps and cheers with the Spanish commentator whenever a goal is made.

"Did you see that?!"

God, the German team was just crazy good. How was that fair? How was he supposed to cheer against them when they played with such passion, such clear dedication?

Totally unfair. They made it really hard to dislike them. He knew what was going to happen in this match, but it was still kind of breathtaking.

"God. That's-- haha, totally crazy, huh?"

Someday -- someday, he was going to see his team beat teams like this. In the end, more than watching anyone (besides the Russians) lose, that was what he really wanted.

"They're incredible."

Be still, his beating heart. Shindou had seen the score-line in passing, since he'd had several weeks since waking up to spoil himself on the results. But that didn't compare at all to watching it in action! The way the German squad controlled the ball without ever letting up on pressuring the opposing side and the precision of the goals they strung together, back to back...he was literally sitting on the edge of his seat from taking it all in.

His normally subdued manners had rubbed away entirely in favor of fired-up delight, by the time he tore his eyes away to turn to Feliks.

"The other side doesn't know how to handle them at all -- " And against the team that was favored to take the whole tournament! Shindou laughed aloud, raising a hand over his mouth and visibly trying to rein himself in. "....It's the kind of game that makes you feel like you're seeing how to play all over again."

Feliks has a threefold agenda, when he turns up for this with his white and red jersey and enough snacks to feed a small army.

First: Watch the few matches that Poland's even in. They didn't make it in in 2014, and didn't do great in 2018 -- they're really not one of the stronger soccer teams out there, and he knows it, but they're his team and he'll support them. Even when supporting them means pouting and bitching at the TV, a fair amount of the time. He does get really energetic and excited when they're doing well, though, even if it's just for a short stretch when it looks like they'll score.

Second: Watch some of the games Germany is in. They usually make it far enough that he doesn't have time for the whole thing, but he likes the ones where they lose. Call it, well... schadenfreude. As much as he hates to admit it, though, they're quite a good team, and are really fun to watch in the moments when he forgets to be grumpy at them for being so much better than his team.

Third: Watch the matches where Russia loses. He has no interest in any games where they win, but -- as he's quick to point out viciously -- there aren't too many of those, anyway. Anyone in the room during those will receive an accidental education on the topic of cursing the gods and very creatively insulting people's mothers in Polish.

Jack was originally just here to listen to the matches from the early days, but as it turns out soccer is way better than football and he is enthralled. And it just so happens that, since he has now made the commitment to watch all of the matches, Jack gets to spend a few listening to Feliks boo Russia down.

It's the fourth or fifth match when Jack finally turns to Feliks and watches him for a bit before quietly mumbling, "What's wrong with Russia?"

It sounds like a very genuine concern.

Feliks, halfway through a suggestion about the Russian striker and a simply astronomical number of dicks, pauses and tilts his head at Jack.

"Like, what's not wrong with them?"

Jack shrinks a bit, and stares at the TV for a moment before frowning and turning back to Feliks.

"What did they ever do to you?" Again, it doesn't sound like a rhetorical question.

"To me personally, or like, to my country?"

Okay, no, but that wasn't the point. The point was...

"Their foreign policy is aggro as Hell, and like, their vodka is crap."

"Aggro?" He tips his head, and scratches his head as tries to define the word in his head and fails.

And then his voice drops to a somewhat hurt mumble. "I like their vodka."

This conversation is in no way helped by Feliks feeling defensive around him since the last time they tried to talk about something.

"'Aggro', like 'aggressive'? Like, mad pushy and can't take 'oh my god dude how is it YOUR business' as an answer?

"And Polish wódka is totally better. We like, invented it, you know!"

This reminds him of his dad. Andrew Ryan was definitely 'aggro'... he would call hypnotizing a city of insane mutants to kill Jack for accidentally trespassing aggressive and pushy.

"I guess they are... aggro." he concludes. "And I've never... had Polish vodka. There was only Russian vodka in Rapture."

Personally he thinks this conversation is going very well in comparison to their last one. At least they're agreeing on something.

And at least there's something for Feliks to joke about. Plus, alcohol!

"So all the gays were psychotic, and all the alcohol was Russian? God, that's just the worst! I'll let you try some better stuff, sometime, when there aren't little kids around."

Jack considers telling Feliks that he is a little kid, but it's bound to discredit him and maybe even take away his chances to get better vodka.

"The... man who built the city was Russian. I guess Russian vodka was what he wanted." Jack sighs, "Everyone was psychotic, though, not just... gays." He ends up staring at his left hand while he speaks. So many powers he used to have... "We had a drug that mutated people... gave them whatever powers they wanted, but it drove them insane after a while. Cohen took a lot, I guess."

It feels more and more awkward every time he talks about Rapture. Like it's a weird nightmare he just happens to remember clearly, and his real life is up on the surface 60 years later.

He may have generally different interests and a different upbringing and so forth, but he's still European and this is the World Cup. Of course he's there. He may be a casual by European standards, but how could he pass it up?

Tenma was already absorbed in the game to initially notice Alric, but when he does, he's not sure what to say. Instead, he merely offers him popcorn and a smile. The man was a little intimidating, but he came to watch soccer, so he couldn't possibly be that scary.

"Oh, thank you."

Alric smiles amiably and nods, reaching to take a little popcorn, seeming quite unfazed by Tenma's absorption in the game. He only speaks again when there's a pause in the action--and with more preference for brevity over propriety than his usual. Talking over something actually happening in the game would be rude.

"Alric Caelegart. Don't believe we've met."

having the announcer ramble in Spanish when there was no soccer happening did help break his intense concentration on the game. When the man introduced himself, Tenma gave him another sheepish smile.

"I'm Tenma!" he cheerfully introduced. "I'm only in 8th grade, so that makes sense."

"Nn. I'm a student, myself, although... I suppose one of the older ones. But I've much yet to learn, outside of the usual academics."

He smiles half to himself; it seemed like most mutants at least knew another mutant, had some sense of what their powers were "about," so to speak. Although that could just be his unusual perspective talking.

"A pleasure to meet you, though, Tenma."

"That's life, I think." Tenma chirped. "There's so much to learn that they don't teach in classes."

He turned to the screen, where the victorious captain was hugging and consoling the losing one.

"Like that. The passion and compassion for something."

True, this school was unique in offering courses on how to harness one's powers, but there were no lessons for some truly deep concepts.

Alric grinned and nodded to that.

"Absolutely. My grandfather always taught that there's something to be learned from everyone, and I sincerely believe that. I've never really... lived among other people with exceptional powers, before coming here, so I imagine that teaching is particularly true, in my case."

Since the match was wrapping up, he had enough time to really have a conversation before the next queued match started.

"How long did you know you had powers?" Tenma asked woth genuine curiousity. "Before coming here."

He had barely known he had his for a month before the paperwork to transfer went through and he began studying in America at the Institute. He was fortune in some ways, having members of his own team like Shindou having done the same thing, but far earlier.

"Oh... years. Since I was five or six, maybe. ...but there was only so much my grandfather could teach me--discipline, but not full control. I've learned to... contain it, for the most part, and a few tricks, but I've a long way to go toward anything I could call mastery."

"Wow." He breathed. He barely made his first friend at that age, and no one had an inkling he was even a mutant. "I only found out recently."

It was recent to him anyway. Five years or not, it still felt like it was merely a few months since his own powers became apparent to him.

"Mm... it's true of a few of us, I believe. Others have known for a very long time, but have never had the benefit of training. It is... something of a mixed blessing, to be in the second category."

He smiled a touch wryly at that thought, glancing aside, although only briefly.

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10 minutes late with starbucks

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A Whole Bunch of Shindou | Open

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[2]

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third one what else

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Ahh sorry! Things got busy...

no problemo!

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