the best offense is blowing their shit up | van mars exy

She faked left and tossed right: perfectly in the upper-most corner. Sailed right past him. And though it was entirely his fault, he had to of course present his hand at the girl while making an indignant face at the backliners and the strikers- "Does anyone see her when she's running with the damn ball, or?" He plopped his mouthguard back into his mouth and scoffed. Swallow the flames down, Van. Swallow the flames down. It was only a tie, and the games was still early. If VonBlaken got his head out of his ass in time, they might be okay. If not, well- At least he'd started this all off by saying they were practically doomed. If it turned out to be true, he got to say 'told you so' when he wiped the steam away from the bathroom mirror and saw his own pouting face staring back at him.

"Brett, if you're gonna double team, make sure you can get to your man when they pass!" VonBlaken flipped him off as he ran for repositioning. The other team scored, so it was their ball. Hmph. Van knew who he wasn't passing to.

Venus and Carbone lined up to take the pass and he considered the two of them.

1: Venus
2: Carbone
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Based purely on the fact that he was on the opposite side of the field as VonBlaken, Van was originally sold on Carbone. But then right before he could start the gameplay, one of the backliners from the other side stepped in front of him and blocked the path. He sighed and tossed the ball to the left, where Venus caught it and ran. Luckily, VonBlaken did one thing right and set up a decent pick, so Venus was able to shake off her man reasonably well. She passed off to Carbone who fired off a shot.

1: miss
2: score
3: score + drama
1-3

Venus was on fire that day, managing another successful point and pulling them ahead three to one and making it her own second point scored in the first half of the game alone. But while the crowd continued their cheer, Van's eyes caught back up with Carbone, who still hadn't managed to climb back onto his feet. He laid there, in fact, writhing on the pitch, holding onto his knee. While everyone else readied for the reset, VonBlaken finally noticed and jogged over to help him up, but when he tried to put any amount of weight on his left side he yelled in agony.

Uh oh.

Van didn't see any bones sticking out or any parts facing the wrong way- he hoped it wasn't a ligament in the knee or something similar- that was the kind of injury that could be season-ending. Not just for him- Carbone was one of the best strikers on the team: slower than Venus but a much better shot usually. Coach came onto the pitch and escorted him off with help from VonBlaken, and Goravich got subbed in. From the looks of it, Carbone wasn't hurt badly enough to need immediate medical attention: he'd chosen to sit on the sidelines and watch, so maybe the injury was something he'd be able to shake off by the second half of the match. And besides, Goravich wasn't anything to sneeze at in the meantime.

The reset finally happened, with the other team's goalie passing to Headband, who passed to Blondie, who passed back to Headband, who passed it back to Headband- it went on like this several times, the two of them staying near each other for each time Royce and VonBlaken would crowd around them. One of the other team's Backliners- the one with freckles and coppery hair- set up a nice pick for Royce, who smacked squarely into him and sent both of them to the ground wand cleared the way for Headband, who geared up for a shot. Van was able to anticipate it, though, deflecting the ball with his racquet just as it crossed the line.

Blondie and VonBlaken scrapped for possession.

1: Blondie wins possession of the ball
2: VonBlaken wins possession of the ball
3: Blondie fouls VonBlaken
4: VonBlaken fouls Blondie
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