Comments | insovietme: RL: What Would Brian Boitano Do? (Russia and America)

insovietme

RL: What Would Brian Boitano Do? (Russia and America)

Feb 20, 2010 22:08

[Russia tightened the laces of his skates. Snugly. As tight as possible. So they wouldn't come undone. And so he wouldn't trip. He's not worried. He very rarely trips. Still, America is America, and who knows what could happen? Russia has a good idea. He has visions of silver, of podiums past, and he smiles absently as he finishes tying knots. He's ( Read more... )

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Comments 6

brightstarshero February 21 2010, 03:48:31 UTC

[Ohboy, this could be a really good idea, or a really bad idea. Russia was the enemy kind of, and here America was, in his house, about to challenge him in ice skating.

Well, if things got bad, America felt like he had enough strength to take Russia down if he had to. He's show that dumb communist how ice skating was done]

Ready!

[he stumbles onto the ice a bit haphazardly, not nearly as graceful as Russia had, and holds onto the side so he doesn't fall down. He can ice skate, not very well, but well enough]

Let's start!

insovietme February 21 2010, 03:55:58 UTC

[Russia smiles. He doesn't look back. But he smiles, nonetheless. Hands behind his back. Balanced. Simply. Just full of potential. He's not even really trying. Not yet. But he smiles, all the same, scarf trailing behind him as he skids to a halt next to America.]

Holding onto the rail doesn't count.

[His voice is light. Easy. Simple. Just pointing out the obvious.]

It'll be like your game of Horse. I do a trick, then you try to copy it. You do a trick, and I try to copy it. First to do five tricks wins. Sound fair?

[He rattles off the words, eyes shining as he awaits the start of something more.]

brightstarshero February 21 2010, 04:31:28 UTC

[America just gives Russia a flat and determined look, and he lets go of the side of the rink to face him fully]

Fine! Be prepared to lose, Russia!

insovietme February 21 2010, 04:44:13 UTC

Oh, I'm always prepared.

[The grin turns dangerous for a moment. A glint in the light, from the electric lamps. He skates away, hands behind his back like before. Slowly building up speed. Speed's what he needs. But he builds it slowly, gradually. Not so slow that the build isn't there, but not so fast that it's sudden. Enough to be unnerving. As he skates around the rink, he skates cut small paths through the ice. This way, then that. Faster and faster.

The speed makes him feel alive. The ice makes him feel at home.]

Thread 6