It was quite a rambunctious ordeal when the new team transfers came out; the coach smacking his gloved hand against the boards to quiet the team. Everyone gathered around to see would be joining for this season, asking the newbies questions to seemingly no end. You stand there, keeping to yourself but accidentally lock eyes with an existing player, the captain, in the back, who also seems to have an aversion to the rowdiness.

Practice was hardly anything but existing friendships ruffing up one another. The coach had been skating around, assessing silently the whole time. You felt out of place, like you didn’t belong. First day of hell ended, and you were ready to skate off the ice, but feel a body crash into yours.

“Fuck, mate—“

The voice groans, having landed next to you on the ice, laying on his back. A lanky man stands above both of you, his hands on his hips with a pleased look on his face. He has stringy black hair, barely tied back with an elastic.

“Don’t put snow down my back then, V.”

He laughs, offering a hand to the man he knocked into you. Vessel takes III’s hand, and brushes himself off to neatness again. III skates away, pulling a shorter man into a headlock with a big 4 on the back of his jersey before disappearing into the locker room.

The man, who you now recognize to be one you locked eyes with earlier, hasn’t left your side yet.

“Sorry about that, III is an idiot.”

He speaks, voice unexpectedly honeyed. He then turns to you, skating backwards, with a hand out to pull you to your feet. You accept it, and with a firm grip, he pulls you up.

“You’re new.”

He states, skating around you in a circle as you brush ice off your rear.

“Does coach scare you?”

He teases, still circling you with a keen look in his eyes behind the cage of his helmet. You cannot lie, the grating voice of the coach does intimidate you, but you don’t want to seem weak, especially in front of the team captain.

“Vessel,”

He introduces himself, stoping before you, a pleasant tone in his voice.