- Pronouns
- He/His/Him
- TNP Nation
- Prydania
- Discord
- lordgigaice
12 June 2057
12:09 am
On a Tuesday
Kiojaleit, Prydania
Brodi Öxndal stirred awake. He blinked a few times and yawned, the rain pattering down outside. He could hear the thunder in the distance and wrapped his blanket around himself as he adjusted on the couch. He could see the rain pattering against the ground from the small windows in the basement of his uncle Ástvar’s. He looked down. His friend Svein Abildgaard was fast asleep in the sleeping bag on the floor, amongst half finished bags of chips, some sweet cakes, and cans of Toki’s- all the surefire signs of a boys’ sleepover.
Brodi closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep again, the rain kind of soothing in its own way. But try as he might, he couldn't fall asleep. So he sighed and kicked off the blanket to rummage through the two half-opened backpacks at the foot of the couch. He found his phone and booted it up, and lay back down.
He'd fall asleep soon enough. Until then though? VasaMon.
He smiled as the game sprite- customized to look like a cartoon version of him, curly blond hair and all- began traversing down one of the game’s rural routes.
He, like most twelve year old boys, loved video games. But VasaMon was really cool for him. The game was a joint production from Prydanian and Santonian companies and so the regions in the game tended to be based on places from those countries. Brodi was Prydanian. He had Santonian cousins and had been there plenty of times. So he recognized a lot of the game.
And right now? Well the quiet town his character was walking into might as well have been his own home town.
12 June 2057
7:46 am
On a Tuesday
Kiojaleit, Prydania
Ástvar Öxndal chuckled. Usually his daughter Hallbera had to be pried out of bed in the morning for school. But now- in the middle of summer- her and her cousin Brodi and friend Svein were wide awake and eager to get out the door. Ástvar understood though! This wasn't school. This was hockey! Well…kind of.
The Kiojaleit Municipal Ice Rink was very quiet.
“Morning Ástvar,” Finn, the rink manager, said as he sipped his coffee.
“See you got the whole crew,” he added with a smile.
“Oh já I’ve got my hands full,” Ástvar chuckled as Brodi, Svein, and Hallbera all stood eagerly as he got his keys to the pro shop out.
“Look at you guys, getting big! Ready for Bantam next year?”
“Já!” all three kids said eagerly. Bantam. They wouldn't be treated like kids anymore!
“Good, you all behave. I’ll see you later. Take care Ástvar!”
“See ya Finn,” Ástvar replied, unlocking the pro shop and turning on the lights.
“Brodi, flip the sign will you?”
Brodi nodded and flipped the “LOKAД sign to “OPNA.” It was a small thing but Ástvar liked letting the kids feel involved when he could.
“Alright,” Ástvar said with a yawn.
“I think Finn had the right idea. I need coffee. You three stay in the store. When I get back we’ll go through the stock.”
The kids all gave him a resigned look and he chuckled.
“Watch it Hallbera or I’ll tell Uncle Týr maybe you three would like to spend today on the farm instead?”
They all gulped and Ástvar chuckled. His brother and father ran the farm. He owned the hockey pro shop. And after the rain last night? This was the decidedly easier post.
“Stay put,” he added as he left, making his way to the concession stand where he was sure to find some fresh coffee.
Brodi was a bit chilly. He was wearing a red Prydanian national team jersey- the newest design courtesy of his birthday. It was great! But not the warmest for the ice rink.
But he adjusted and looked through the store. He always loved his uncle’s store. All the Prydanian Hockey League team jerseys for sale, even teams from Kanada, Goyanes, Andrenne, and Saintonge.
“Hey what about this?” Hallbera asked. She had found an old plaque in the corner of the store. It was about a foot long and had illustrations of Prydanian national hockey team sweaters through the years. But it was out of date. It ended in 2055.
“That's cool I guess. I like the retro sweaters,” he said pointing to the 2030 design.
“Wooo, old school,” Svein remarked.
“I think it looks better than what they're wearing now,” Brodi said with a shrug.
“Hey, Hal, does Uncle Ástvar have any older sweaters here? Something cool and vintage.”
“Pabbi’s store has everything,” she said with a bit of bluster and pride, leading the boys into a back room.
It was an office, longer than it was wide, with a computer on one end. But the other had stacks of boxes. And some of them were labelled “HOCKEY SWEATERS.”
“Let's do it,” Svein said with a grin and his friends eagerly joined in, opening a few of the boxes…
“It's just practice stuff,” Brodi said with a sigh. Indeed the three were just going through blank Ör and Le Fort practice sweaters.
“Hmm…”
Brodi and Svein watched as Hallbera got up, walking to the far end of the office and opening a closet. They could see a few hockey sweaters hanging and then…
“Hey!”
The three twelve year olds looked back at Ástvar and gulped, all of them frozen like deer in headlights. His stern face softened and he smirked.
“What's going on?”
“We were just…” Svein began to mutter.
“Hallbera said you'd have some cool retro stuff back here and…” Brodi continued only for his cousin to cut him off.
“Don't blame me, you fartsniffer!”
“Hey!”
Ástvar chuckled.
“Cool retro stuff?” he asked as he stepped over the pile of plain practice jerseys over to the office’s closet.
“Já some. But not for sale. I’ll show you when we’re done for the day,” he said before he picked up the practice sweaters and dumped them back in their boxes.
“But you guys shouldn't be going through inventory like that!”
“Sorry,” the kids said in unison. Ástvar nodded and led them back into the store proper. The deep blue carpeting and white and gold stylings recalling the local team Erkiengill ÍF.
All in all it was a pretty cool store, tucked into a corner of the ice rink, one wall all windows that faced the inner lobby. It meant that even though it was bright and sunny outside that here? Here the fluorescent lights and cool temperature felt like a secret base almost.
A secret base where they had to do busy work.
“Here” Ástvar said, pulling some smaller boxes out from underneath the front counter.
“You three record how many rolls of hockey tape each box has, stack it on the shelves. I'll be working on today’s skate orders.”
“Can I help pabbi?” Hallbera asked excitedly only for Ástvar to raise an eyebrow.
“Did my little girl suddenly turn sixteen overnight?”
“... no.”
Ástvar smiled as he stepped behind a separate counter and closed the divider before tapping on a sign.
“No One Under 16 Allowed In Workshop Area.”
The three watched as Ástvar donned some protective goggles and gloves and began the process of sharpening skates before they dedicated themselves to their task.
Counting hockey tape was, after all, better than helping out on the farm.
“I bet I’ve got a bigger tape ball than you do,” Brodi said, teasing his friend.
“Nah, I’ve been working on mine since I was eight,” Svein replied.
“Já well I’ve been working on mine since I was six,” Brodi shot back. He wasn't actually sure if that was true.
“What's even the point?” Hallbera asked as she rolled her eyes.
“You guys keep rolled up used hockey tape?”
“Everyone does,” Brodi said with a shrug.
“Boys,” Hallbera replied dismissively.
“I’m going to keep mine going. Saxi, he said he's starting a new one when he starts Bantam next year but not me. I'm going to keep mine going until I turn pro,” Brodi said as he puffed his chest out a bit.
“You think you're going pro, cuz?” Hallbera asked.
“Já what's so crazy about that?”
“Do you know few people make the ÍDP?”
“And you do?”
“As a matter of fact já I do!” Halberra shot back.
“It's like 1% or something. Of all hockey players in the country. It's the best of the best.”
“And that's me!” Brodi proclaimed.
“Oh please,” Halberra rolled her eyes.
“Svein here had more goals than you did last season.”
“Leave me outta this,” Svein said with a chuckle, not wanting to get between the cousins.
“I mean it,” Brodi said, pointing to a poster of Styrbjörn Granseth. The Erkiengill ÍF captain had just retired, but he was easily the best player in team history.
“I'm going to be the next Styrbjörn Granseth.”
“Sure you are cuz,” Hallbera replied, before giving Svein a wink. Svein, oblivious, blushed a bit and pointed to himself quizzically.
“What are you doin?” Brodi asked, confused. Svein, blushing, just shrugged.
The day went on, with Ástvar bringing the three pizza slices and pop for lunch from the concession stand, as the rink got a bit busier. It was still pretty low key though. Hockey was a mostly fall and winter sport, so the ice centre’s two rinks were used by figure skaters getting reps in. Indeed, all of the store’s customers were teenage girls picking up their skates or buying new laces. It lacked the hustle and bustle of boys looking for hockey gear that came every September and lasted until every April.
Ástvar liked it that way though. It allowed him to fill orders on the newest gear, and get ready for that rush. He was going over order forms when he caught the three finishing their lunch out of the corner of his eye.
“You guys wanted to know about vintage sweaters?”
“Já!” Brodi exclaimed, getting the plaque showing the partial history of Prydanian national team sweaters.
“This one?” he pointed at the 2030 set again.
“It's so much better than the ones they wear now!”
“Is that so?” Ástvar said with a chuckle. He remembered that design from when he was a kid.
“I may have to see if Ör is doing that one in their vintage line. But if they are… well I know some guys who can make three of ‘em happen!”
“You mean it Herra Öxndal?” Svein asked.
“Sure. For helping me out this summer,” he said as the three kids beamed.
“But right now I have another task for you three,” he said as he pulled another box out form under the counter.
“This came in last night just before closing. It's for Dr. Rós, across town,” he scribbled an address onto a piece of paper.
“Can you three bring it to him?”
“Sure thing, Uncle!” Brodi said, taking the package and piece of paper.
“Hal, here,” Ástvar said with a grin, handing his daughter some Krossar.
“Get some snacks on the way back.”
“Ok Pabbi!” his daughter exclaimed as the three left. It was a simple delivery job but honestly? He remembered what it was like to be that age. And he wasn't going to keep them stuck inside all day. The exercise would do them good.
Brodi secured the box to the back of his bike with bungee cords before leading his cousin and friend out of the asphalt parking lot of the ice rink and down the dusty road that led into Kiojaleit proper.
“You know where we’re going?” Hallbera asked.
“Já just try to keep up!” Brodi called back. The three on their way down a quiet rural road.
12:09 am
On a Tuesday
Kiojaleit, Prydania
Brodi Öxndal stirred awake. He blinked a few times and yawned, the rain pattering down outside. He could hear the thunder in the distance and wrapped his blanket around himself as he adjusted on the couch. He could see the rain pattering against the ground from the small windows in the basement of his uncle Ástvar’s. He looked down. His friend Svein Abildgaard was fast asleep in the sleeping bag on the floor, amongst half finished bags of chips, some sweet cakes, and cans of Toki’s- all the surefire signs of a boys’ sleepover.
Brodi closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep again, the rain kind of soothing in its own way. But try as he might, he couldn't fall asleep. So he sighed and kicked off the blanket to rummage through the two half-opened backpacks at the foot of the couch. He found his phone and booted it up, and lay back down.
He'd fall asleep soon enough. Until then though? VasaMon.
He smiled as the game sprite- customized to look like a cartoon version of him, curly blond hair and all- began traversing down one of the game’s rural routes.
He, like most twelve year old boys, loved video games. But VasaMon was really cool for him. The game was a joint production from Prydanian and Santonian companies and so the regions in the game tended to be based on places from those countries. Brodi was Prydanian. He had Santonian cousins and had been there plenty of times. So he recognized a lot of the game.
And right now? Well the quiet town his character was walking into might as well have been his own home town.
12 June 2057
7:46 am
On a Tuesday
Kiojaleit, Prydania
Ástvar Öxndal chuckled. Usually his daughter Hallbera had to be pried out of bed in the morning for school. But now- in the middle of summer- her and her cousin Brodi and friend Svein were wide awake and eager to get out the door. Ástvar understood though! This wasn't school. This was hockey! Well…kind of.
The Kiojaleit Municipal Ice Rink was very quiet.
“Morning Ástvar,” Finn, the rink manager, said as he sipped his coffee.
“See you got the whole crew,” he added with a smile.
“Oh já I’ve got my hands full,” Ástvar chuckled as Brodi, Svein, and Hallbera all stood eagerly as he got his keys to the pro shop out.
“Look at you guys, getting big! Ready for Bantam next year?”
“Já!” all three kids said eagerly. Bantam. They wouldn't be treated like kids anymore!
“Good, you all behave. I’ll see you later. Take care Ástvar!”
“See ya Finn,” Ástvar replied, unlocking the pro shop and turning on the lights.
“Brodi, flip the sign will you?”
Brodi nodded and flipped the “LOKAД sign to “OPNA.” It was a small thing but Ástvar liked letting the kids feel involved when he could.
“Alright,” Ástvar said with a yawn.
“I think Finn had the right idea. I need coffee. You three stay in the store. When I get back we’ll go through the stock.”
The kids all gave him a resigned look and he chuckled.
“Watch it Hallbera or I’ll tell Uncle Týr maybe you three would like to spend today on the farm instead?”
They all gulped and Ástvar chuckled. His brother and father ran the farm. He owned the hockey pro shop. And after the rain last night? This was the decidedly easier post.
“Stay put,” he added as he left, making his way to the concession stand where he was sure to find some fresh coffee.
Brodi was a bit chilly. He was wearing a red Prydanian national team jersey- the newest design courtesy of his birthday. It was great! But not the warmest for the ice rink.
But he adjusted and looked through the store. He always loved his uncle’s store. All the Prydanian Hockey League team jerseys for sale, even teams from Kanada, Goyanes, Andrenne, and Saintonge.
“Hey what about this?” Hallbera asked. She had found an old plaque in the corner of the store. It was about a foot long and had illustrations of Prydanian national hockey team sweaters through the years. But it was out of date. It ended in 2055.
“That's cool I guess. I like the retro sweaters,” he said pointing to the 2030 design.
“Wooo, old school,” Svein remarked.
“I think it looks better than what they're wearing now,” Brodi said with a shrug.
“Hey, Hal, does Uncle Ástvar have any older sweaters here? Something cool and vintage.”
“Pabbi’s store has everything,” she said with a bit of bluster and pride, leading the boys into a back room.
It was an office, longer than it was wide, with a computer on one end. But the other had stacks of boxes. And some of them were labelled “HOCKEY SWEATERS.”
“Let's do it,” Svein said with a grin and his friends eagerly joined in, opening a few of the boxes…
“It's just practice stuff,” Brodi said with a sigh. Indeed the three were just going through blank Ör and Le Fort practice sweaters.
“Hmm…”
Brodi and Svein watched as Hallbera got up, walking to the far end of the office and opening a closet. They could see a few hockey sweaters hanging and then…
“Hey!”
The three twelve year olds looked back at Ástvar and gulped, all of them frozen like deer in headlights. His stern face softened and he smirked.
“What's going on?”
“We were just…” Svein began to mutter.
“Hallbera said you'd have some cool retro stuff back here and…” Brodi continued only for his cousin to cut him off.
“Don't blame me, you fartsniffer!”
“Hey!”
Ástvar chuckled.
“Cool retro stuff?” he asked as he stepped over the pile of plain practice jerseys over to the office’s closet.
“Já some. But not for sale. I’ll show you when we’re done for the day,” he said before he picked up the practice sweaters and dumped them back in their boxes.
“But you guys shouldn't be going through inventory like that!”
“Sorry,” the kids said in unison. Ástvar nodded and led them back into the store proper. The deep blue carpeting and white and gold stylings recalling the local team Erkiengill ÍF.
All in all it was a pretty cool store, tucked into a corner of the ice rink, one wall all windows that faced the inner lobby. It meant that even though it was bright and sunny outside that here? Here the fluorescent lights and cool temperature felt like a secret base almost.
A secret base where they had to do busy work.
“Here” Ástvar said, pulling some smaller boxes out from underneath the front counter.
“You three record how many rolls of hockey tape each box has, stack it on the shelves. I'll be working on today’s skate orders.”
“Can I help pabbi?” Hallbera asked excitedly only for Ástvar to raise an eyebrow.
“Did my little girl suddenly turn sixteen overnight?”
“... no.”
Ástvar smiled as he stepped behind a separate counter and closed the divider before tapping on a sign.
“No One Under 16 Allowed In Workshop Area.”
The three watched as Ástvar donned some protective goggles and gloves and began the process of sharpening skates before they dedicated themselves to their task.
Counting hockey tape was, after all, better than helping out on the farm.
“I bet I’ve got a bigger tape ball than you do,” Brodi said, teasing his friend.
“Nah, I’ve been working on mine since I was eight,” Svein replied.
“Já well I’ve been working on mine since I was six,” Brodi shot back. He wasn't actually sure if that was true.
“What's even the point?” Hallbera asked as she rolled her eyes.
“You guys keep rolled up used hockey tape?”
“Everyone does,” Brodi said with a shrug.
“Boys,” Hallbera replied dismissively.
“I’m going to keep mine going. Saxi, he said he's starting a new one when he starts Bantam next year but not me. I'm going to keep mine going until I turn pro,” Brodi said as he puffed his chest out a bit.
“You think you're going pro, cuz?” Hallbera asked.
“Já what's so crazy about that?”
“Do you know few people make the ÍDP?”
“And you do?”
“As a matter of fact já I do!” Halberra shot back.
“It's like 1% or something. Of all hockey players in the country. It's the best of the best.”
“And that's me!” Brodi proclaimed.
“Oh please,” Halberra rolled her eyes.
“Svein here had more goals than you did last season.”
“Leave me outta this,” Svein said with a chuckle, not wanting to get between the cousins.
“I mean it,” Brodi said, pointing to a poster of Styrbjörn Granseth. The Erkiengill ÍF captain had just retired, but he was easily the best player in team history.
“I'm going to be the next Styrbjörn Granseth.”
“Sure you are cuz,” Hallbera replied, before giving Svein a wink. Svein, oblivious, blushed a bit and pointed to himself quizzically.
“What are you doin?” Brodi asked, confused. Svein, blushing, just shrugged.
The day went on, with Ástvar bringing the three pizza slices and pop for lunch from the concession stand, as the rink got a bit busier. It was still pretty low key though. Hockey was a mostly fall and winter sport, so the ice centre’s two rinks were used by figure skaters getting reps in. Indeed, all of the store’s customers were teenage girls picking up their skates or buying new laces. It lacked the hustle and bustle of boys looking for hockey gear that came every September and lasted until every April.
Ástvar liked it that way though. It allowed him to fill orders on the newest gear, and get ready for that rush. He was going over order forms when he caught the three finishing their lunch out of the corner of his eye.
“You guys wanted to know about vintage sweaters?”
“Já!” Brodi exclaimed, getting the plaque showing the partial history of Prydanian national team sweaters.
“This one?” he pointed at the 2030 set again.
“It's so much better than the ones they wear now!”
“Is that so?” Ástvar said with a chuckle. He remembered that design from when he was a kid.
“I may have to see if Ör is doing that one in their vintage line. But if they are… well I know some guys who can make three of ‘em happen!”
“You mean it Herra Öxndal?” Svein asked.
“Sure. For helping me out this summer,” he said as the three kids beamed.
“But right now I have another task for you three,” he said as he pulled another box out form under the counter.
“This came in last night just before closing. It's for Dr. Rós, across town,” he scribbled an address onto a piece of paper.
“Can you three bring it to him?”
“Sure thing, Uncle!” Brodi said, taking the package and piece of paper.
“Hal, here,” Ástvar said with a grin, handing his daughter some Krossar.
“Get some snacks on the way back.”
“Ok Pabbi!” his daughter exclaimed as the three left. It was a simple delivery job but honestly? He remembered what it was like to be that age. And he wasn't going to keep them stuck inside all day. The exercise would do them good.
Brodi secured the box to the back of his bike with bungee cords before leading his cousin and friend out of the asphalt parking lot of the ice rink and down the dusty road that led into Kiojaleit proper.
“You know where we’re going?” Hallbera asked.
“Já just try to keep up!” Brodi called back. The three on their way down a quiet rural road.