World Cup 90--RP Thread

[Chromatika]

Supplemental 1: the departure
Supplemental 2: the debate
Supplemental 3: the ideal Tumbran

defender meets midfielder, Supplemental 4
the true story

With thanks to Tumbra, who's allowing me to write some of the background pieces that explain the world around the main story. This piece occurs after life together, which is Season 5, Part 4.

Chromatik Capitalizt Training Facility
Chromia, Central District, Chromatika

It was a cool day in the Chromatik autumn, right before the days started getting cold; though it was the day after the match against Wirr Tsi that Chromatik had put away - to improve to 7-1-1, which was spectacular form for the early going of this season - Raul Vitan was right back out on the practice pitch. He'd make sure to take it a bit lighter today, only go about half-speed, but he didn't like taking a day off after match day. It disrupted his rhythm, and with a game in Lanar coming up, with a chance to increase the early season lead, he was determined as ever to keep form and make sure that he was in top shape.

To his surprise, he wasn't the only one there. It wasn't normal to see a goalkeeper training by themselves, but everyone in Chromatik had gotten used to seeing one Tania Vincent training by herself. Sprinting from corner to corner in the net, doing reaching drills, going through scenarios in her head - the new keeper recently from Felswyr for a fee of 10.5M NMS, a steep fee for a domestic transfer - Vincent was another self-made player who loved to work for it, and Raul respected that.

As he raised a hand to acknowledge Vincent, she waved and motioned for him to come over. He counted that as strange - she'd never done that before - but as they played together, he didn't think much of it as he jogged over.

"Morning Tania," he said sheepishly, "You played brilliantly yesterday - didn't expect to see you here."

"Just going through the paces," she answered in an even tone, "Like you, I guess."

Raul considered himself to be a decent-looking fellow, though he was aware that his intensity and drive drove off most people. However, as he looked at the six-foot-five, well-built woman with steely blue eyes, bleach-blonde hair, and long arms, he became aware that she wasn't afraid of him nor considered him to be any sort of threat. This was new - everyone was always at least wary of him, but to Tania Vincent, Raul Vitan might as well have been just another kid.

"Did you want to talk about anything?" he asked, trying to not show that he was intimidated by how she was handling the situation, "You motioned me over."

Then, he recognized that by explaining why he was asking that question, he was conceding the fact that it was instead he that was nervous, or being intimidated, by her.

"I saw you yesterday," she started, her gaze meeting his (which made him inadvertently look away), "Talking to Stephen (Kerr). Now, mind you, I didn't mean to overhear, but you should know that when you're in the middle of saying something in that lecture-like tone of yours, your voice carries. You said something to Stephen that was completely false, and I wanted to give you a chance to go apologize and tell him the true story."

Raul swallowed nervously but managed to stammer, "I have no idea what you mean. Everybody knows why Gabriella Antonio retired - it's because she got pregnant and had to go have the baby. After that, she wasn't good enough to play again, so she didn't."

In one instant, Tania Vincent was in his face. Raul Vitan couldn't remember the last time anyone had been in his face.

"Excuse. Me?" she said, venom dripping from her voice, "Gabriella Antonio, arguably the best left winger in Chromatik history, retired because she wasn't good enough to play again after one baby?"

He found himself backing up behind those words, and before he could say anything back, she was on him.

"Gabriella Antonio quit because she wanted to quit. She hated the fact that the Chromatik national team was being used for a political agenda. She hated that her first Manager, Franscesca Larriet-Cortes, was martyred. She joined Lisa Amos in the thought that politics using footballers was crap - do you think that Amos is a washed-up Manager, too? By the way, in case you forgot, Amos has been going on for more than ten years in the Nepharan Premiership and now Zenith at the top level, so drop that if you even think about it. So, she found someone at Coret who looked at her as a person - as a woman, if you will - and not as a footballer, and she decided that happiness with Lethbridge was worth more to her than her career."

Tania Vincent paused for a second, but before Raul could even say a single thing back, she held up a finger as if to dare him.

"She didn't quit football because she got pregnant, Raul. She got pregnant because she wanted to quit football. She chose family and personal happiness over the sport she loved and a life in the limelight. Do you know how much guts you have to have to arrive at such a conclusion? Are you aware of just how groundbreaking that was? How many young women look up to Gabriella for the decision that she made?"

Raul was floored. He was many things, but he was also a man who knew when he was beat.

"I admit I don't know Antonio personally," he acquiesced, trying to disarm Vincent, "And my perception may be skewed as that of a fan who was sad that one of his heroes left the game that he loves. I apologize."

The words, "I apologize" rang through the air, and Tania Vincent took a step back.

"Thank you for saying that," she stated, a bit less tense, "And I'm sorry if I'm coming on a bit strong."

"How do you know that the story you know is true, anyway?" Raul couldn't help himself asking, "I can't help myself.

She looked at him sympathetically, and answered, "I'm good friends with one of the best defensive midfielders that Chromatika has ever produced - no, not Leysa Burns."

After he looked at her blankly for a few moments, she responded, "Kaia Larriet-Cortes. Franscesca's niece. She has all the stories, and Gabriella's is one of her favorite. She talks of Gabriella often, says that she visits whenever she's able to."

"Fine," Raul responded a few minutes later, "I'll tell Stephen that the story is wrong. I still think that teammates falling in love with each other is bad news, but I guess if it becomes a problem, they'll pay for it, right? We'll just have to hope that it doesn't cost us."

"Raul? Let me give you one last piece of advice," Vitan said, exasperated, "Stay in your own lane. Take care of yourself. Let them take care of themselves, and if their play falters - check that yours isn't faltering as well, and then give them actual actionable advice that isn't 'stop seeing each other'. Got it?"

Raul couldn't do anything else but nod.

As Tania started to lace up her shoes to run another set of drills, Raul couldn't help but find himself actually relieved she was done talking to him.

"Oh, and Raul?" he flinched as she added one final jab, "If you don't tell Stephen and apologize within a week, I'll tell the true story to him myself, and you'll be both an idiot and a jerk. So that's up to you."

With that and a flip of her hair, she was gone, leaving a stunned Raul Vitan wondering just what had come into his life.

---

Sybill & Hellion, Part 1: The Opening Interview
Sybill & Hellion, Part 2: Walk First Before You Learn to Run
Sybill & Hellion, Part 3: The First Defeat

Sybill & Hellion, Part 4: Four of a Kind

World Cup 90 Qualifying Matchday 4: Chromatika 3-2 Eura
Goals: Wen '33, Kuznetsov '71, Sayer '82
Starting XI (4-1-4-1): Fillar, J.; De Saint-Pierre - De Aea - Anbient - Sayer; Armageddon (C); Wen - Hauser - Mora - Kuznetsov; Vidal.
Substitutes: Ken -> Anbient ('61), Zuniga -> Armageddon ('76), Killian -> Vidal ('80)

World Cup Qualifying Matchday 5: Taksylvania 5-5 Chromatika
Goals: Mora '5, Vidal '39, Fillar, B. '60, Fillar, E. '72, Fillar, G. '83
Starting XI (4-1-4-1): Fillar, J.; Fillar, G. - De Aea - Anbient - Sayer; Armageddon (C); Wen - Hauser - Mora - Kuznetsov; Vidal.
Substitutes: Fillar, B. -> Mora ('51), Fillar, E. -> Kuznetsov ('54), Larriet-Cortes -> Armageddon ('57)

Predicted Starting XI vs. Geisenfried, @ Nyowani Kitara (4-1-4-1): Descombes; Xiao (C)- Ansoll - Nodis - Aimée; Ju; Kruetzberg - Fillar, B. - Phoen - Andersen; Toussaint.
Reserves: GK Van Enax, GK Lorée Bautista, RB Raul Vitan, CB Klavida Régine, CB Moira Ansov, LB Valence Ilya, RW Orianne Marc, DM Mare Si, DM Eli Apt, LW Sakia Damani, AM Tyoma Laurette, ST Kara Oveni

Taksylvania

Had it been only a week or so ago that they'd taken care of Eura at the Capitalizt Dome?

It had been a classy affair between the top two seeds, the Anomalies facing the Eurans for the fourth time in two cycles. A Robson score in the twelfth minute was equalized by Wen Xhose in the thirty-third; Eura would add another on a Monica Rowland free kick in the opening minutes of the second half, but the combination of Chromatik finesse, Vance Simm struggling a bit, and the first goal in Kandice Sayer's career resulted in Chromatika taking the home tie 3-2, an important result in the campaign.

The Chromatiks would suffer an injury in Victoire De Saint-Pierre's right ankle, but board the plane to Taksylvania with high hopes.

Now, things were falling apart from the hinges, but Chromatika was hanging on.

Losing Victoire De Saint-Pierre wasn't great, and Grayson Fillar was taking his lumps, but Chromatika had been flat out of the gate, and now faced a three-goal halftime deficit. Taksylvania had come out swinging and made the most of their chances, forcing Juxon Fillar into mistakes and positions that had stretched his limits.

Sandra Sybill could tell, though, that the biggest problem for them to combat was the mood. Everyone was disappointed, tired, angry; it was up to her and Rachel to turn that around to something constructive.

"All right," she stated matter-of-factly, "That was perhaps the worst half of football I've ever seen you all play. What that means, though, is that if we play even 20% better, we have a chance to win this game."

Some determined looks around gave her strength, and then she laid out her plan.

"It's time Chromatika got what they wanted," added Rachel Hellion, "Baillaire, Edith, you're going in. We're going to have the four Fillars out there at the same time."

An excited murmur went throughout the squad. When this group of twenty-three had been chosen, everyone had noticed that all four Fillars were on it; now, for the first time in Chromatik history, four players with the same last name - four siblings - would take to the field at the same time.

"Give them hell," Hermaeus Mora said to Baillaire Fillar while Vasiliy Marten Kuznetsov gave Edith the same kind of speech, "Have fun, enjoy playing with each other, make the most of it."

It was a gamble to put all four Fillars on the pitch at once. They were of different levels in the depth chart, but the four of them - especially the three players that moved up and down the pitch - had ample history of playing with each other in their backyard. One thing that this was doing as intended, though, was putting the focus on another aspect of the game instead of the deficit.

The plan worked without a hitch. Juxon was perfect in the second half. Baillaire's addition made the attack flow smoothly, and Chromatika made a spirited comeback in the last half hour, with Baillaire, Edith, and Grayson Fillar all scoring to tie the game up. Chromatika was still disappointed to drop two points, but the Fillars had managed to lift their spirits.

"We only get to use that card once," stated Sandra to Rachel on the plane ride home, "But I'm glad it worked."

---

Part 1: The Twin Meetings
Part 2: The Book Moves

Mirroring Paths
Part 3: Twin Surprises

It can be said that modern Chromatik history started with the incorporation of the first national football team of Chromatika. Luuk Aart, the team's Captain, was under investigation by the Chromatik Party and the then-Chromatik government for masquerading as a Violet, someone in the upper castes of the Chromatik society, when he was born as a Red, a caste of laborers. When he was convicted despite not being complicit - Aart had had no knowledge - the Chromatik national team, led by Franscseca Larriet-Cortes, fled the country. They would spend a cycle using a stadium in Quebec as their home field, while events started to unfold in Chromatika.

The Rainbow Writers, a group of underground writers, started to spread propaganda supporting a free Chromatika while various rogue elements joined forces under the banner of what became known as the Rainbow Revolution. This Revolution, despite not having a singular leader, toppled the Chromatik Party, though Franscesca Larriet-Cortes was martyred in the process. The Chromatik Party was overthrown, and the Rainbow Revolution's interim government took power, finding an effective voice in Alina Krasnikova, the prior head of Chromatika's secret police that had turned her back on the principles of the Chromatik Party. Krasnikova became the first Premier of Chromatika, though she wasn't one that was voted into office.

Chromatika found itself facing multiple problems during the quest for its first free election not five years later. The remnants of the Chromatik Party had been spared due to keep the country's infrastructure intact after rudimentary inquiries were made to weed out the most offending members of the Chromatik Party regime. Now, many of them were proving to be a roadblock to Chromatika's future. Aided by an ally in Banija, Chromatika was successful in having its first free election, also employing the aid of The Chosen, a group of extraplanar angels whose fates had been tied to Chromatika by virtue of one of them interfering with Chromatik history. At the end, The Chosen were free to be their individual selves, and Chromatika had its first freely elected leader - Keri Wyse Aart.

Though Chromatika started to become a more stable nation, some underlying problems emerged. A group of people thought that the previous members of the Chromatik Party hadn't paid enough for their mistakes, while others looked at the plight of the previously oppressed population and claimed that the Rainbow Party wasn't doing enough to bring those people up to speed. Then, the Anaia-Atlantian Oceania split took the nation by storm, and though Chromatika decided to join the departing nations in Anaia, the fact that the country split from one of its closest political allies in Banija and the fact that most of the negotiations had been done behind closed doors wasn't taken well by the populace. Using this discordance as an ample opportunity, a crime syndicate called the Shadow Hand, a remnant of the Red Enclave that had been the first to oppose the Chromatik Party back before the Rainbow Revolution, started to make some bolder moves.

Recently, three events have shaken Chromatik politics to the very core. First, retired Chromatik footballer Han Ga-Yeong, a major supporter of the current Chromatik government and a spokeswoman for the rehabilitation of the previous ROYG community, was murdered. Not long after, a member of the Chambers of the Legislature, Chromatika's legislative branch, Jordan Lefebvre of the Traditionalist Party, was assassinated. Second, an explosion rocked one of the team buses of Chromatika's national team on the way back from Franscesca Larriet-Cortes International Airport, instantly killing the driver and injuring twelve others. Thankfully, none of the Chromatik footballers were badly injured, but the event proved to everyone that nobody was truly safe.

Finally, at the end of the most recent election, twenty-eight Representatives from the Rainbow Party and the Traditionalist Party joined forces to bring forth a new party, the Saebitdang, or the New Light Party. Hélène Embroise, the previous #1 confidant of Keri Wyse Art, the Premier, heads the New Light Party, breaking the supermajority of power that the Rainbow Party enjoyed and plunging the country into an uncertain future. (This RP has a good glossary of most recent events.) [size=50]If you want a spoiler for what's really going on, click here.

Glossary of Abbreviations:
RP - Rainbow Party
Trads - Traditionalist Party
CP - (now-defunct) Chromatik Party
ROYG - Red Orange Yellow Green community (the previously lower class in the prior regime)
BIV+ - Blue Indigo Violet plus community (the previously upper class in the prior regime)
NLP - New Light Party (Saebitdang)
NYK - Nyowani Kitara
CFF - Chromatik Football Federation, the organization in charge of the Chromatik National Team and the Rainbow League System
(the) SH - Shadow Hand
BanAm - Ambassador to Banija
NewBanAm - New Ambassador to Banija
Cont - Controller

Varakoula, Tikariot

Saralee Ambroise was bored.

Well, bored was probably not the best word. The biggest peace talks in recent Rushmori history was happening in these very halls, and though she could tell that some of the Rushmori parties were disgruntled by having yet another foreign observer, the Kabaka and the Banijan delegation had been very happy to see Chromatika present. Even though it was partially understood that Chromatika was here as a symbolic gesture, Banija-Chromatika ties were so deep that the intent was recognized and appreciated.

She hadn't done much, as instructed by Chromia. She said little, acted in support of Banijan points, and just kept an eye on things. Thankful that she'd had all the intelligence reports that had let her know of the situation at hand - you could never know what would be thrown at you in the name of diplomacy while in Banija when Nyowani Kitara had such a tie to the nation - she followed the moves being made by Eura, Nephara, Yuezhou, even Tikariot. These were some nations with some very shrewd politicians, and she couldn't help but feel a bit of ire at the fact that nobody was actually talking about what was good for the common people.

Of course, she knew that infrastructure and peace had to prevail first before whichever party that won this contest could even begin to address the problems that they faced in terms of economy, culture, and the spirit of the country as a whole. Chromatika itself was still recovering from the days of the Chromatik Party, and the growing pains were being felt every day in the Chambers of the Legislature as the Rainbow Party tried to hold onto power while the New Light Party heaped on more and more reasons why the way that the country was being run right now just didn't work. However, the issue was that the more someone got into politics, the less they remembered the why behind politics. The everyday person didn't truly care who won elections or who was in power. What they cared was that they had enough food to eat, a place to sleep, things to call their own, and the opportunity to live their lives in the ways that they wanted.

Catching herself before she fell into too deep of a rabbit hole, Ambroise was startled by a Level-2 classified email that came through on her phone. It stated that Arendt Sundin, Johannes von Weber, and Vilgot Westermark - three footballers on Nyowani Kitara's National Team - had requested asylum in Tikariot after speaking their mind against the current government and hoping for independence of the north of the country. They were reportedly asking for asylum in Tikariot, and it was going to hit international news soon.

Unwarranted, memories came to Saralee Ambroise, of a time not too long in the past...

---

Approximately Eighteen Years Ago
Abandoned Gym
Chromatik City, Chromatika

"Are you sure that they said that they'll be there tonight?" came the excited voice of Bella Dunt, calling to her best friend, Saralee Ambroise, "And that they were going to bring the radio that can get the specific channels?"

"Yes, how many times do I have to tell you?" answered a young Saralee Ambroise, shushing Bella, "Quiet down, somebody will hear us and then we'll be in big trouble! Do you want to end up like the others?"

She looked around fervently, trying to make sure that they hadn't been overheard. Listening to the now-exiled Chromatik National Team's matches was a capital offense which could be punished by imprisonment, or even death. However, underground groups were everywhere in the country, and somehow, people were getting special radios that carried at least the home matches being played in Quebec. The Anomalies-in-exile were doing well, and with every win, they were defying the very government that was hell bent on getting them. This got the people going, the revolution flaring, and the Chromatik Party was doing whatever it could to block them.

As the two of them entered the abandoned gym of what had once been a blossoming high school, they noticed that there was already a group of ten others. They didn't dare gather in groups of more than twelve for fear of being noticed, but this location had been safe in three other occasions, and the game that was going to be broadcast tonight was far too important - Chromatika against the Royal Kingdom of Quebec, the very side that had hosted them throughout the qualifiers.

Gathered together, hushed, they listened as Chromatika defeated the Royal Kingdom of Quebec on a goal in the eighty-ninth minute from Keira Andisori, the best player the country has ever seen.

However, when current day Saralee Ambroise looks back at this night, her first memory isn't the feeling of elation that had gone through the gathered populace as they heard of Chromatika's victory. It isn't the hopes of a people hoping that Chromatika will have a chance against Cosumar in the next round - which, to the Anomalies' credit, they'd win for the one and only World Cup Quarterfinals victory in Chromatik history.

No, what she remembers is the abject horror as a bunch of Chromatik Party policemen storm the building, the panic as everyone turns to run, the finality of realizing that she made it home but Bella didn't, and the guilt that overwhelmed her in the coming days as she didn't see Bella for three months. After three months, by the time she's released, Bella Dunt is not the smiling kid that was her best friend. She's a husk of a person, and it takes Bella five years before she's okay enough to even be around people again. It takes ten years before she lets Saralee hug her again, and even now, Saralee sees the scars that Bella has...

---

What Saralee Ambroise had to do to reconcile it all was remind herself over and over again in the years that followed that the Rainbow Revolution had been worth it. That the Chromatik Anomalies playing abroad as refugees was worth it. That the people gathering together to get some hope and some happiness in their lives had been worth it. That Bella hadn't suffered in vain.

This was why she'd ended up being an Ambassador. To cement relationships with countries that would mean that Chromatika had the capacity to take care of its internal issues. To represent Chromatika to the world in a way that would show them that the best days were ahead for the once war-torn nation that had been under a color caste system.

And now, her position as Ambassador in Banija was being used to win political brownie points with a supposed ally? To put the NLP down in their place as a party that were being contested in order to make sure that they couldn't stop the NLP? Now, people like Keri Wyse Aart, whose husband had been one of those exiled, was okay with being a pencil-pusher in Chromia instead of fighting for those that had been harmed?

As her blood boiled, the words of Enigma Armageddon in the recent interview came unbidden to her. That young man had some points. They didn't see eye-to-eye on everything, but the fact that there was inaction? She agreed.

An idea hit her like a bolt of lightning, and she actually rose out of her chair, to the surprise of her assistants and a few other foreign dignitaries in the room. Excusing herself, she went outside and found a private space, and drew in her retinue.

"Nancy," she said, pointing at her best information gatherer, "I need you to do something for me, and do it fast."

Before Nancy Kard could answer, Saralee motioned for Marx David, her securities officer that made sure she had a secure line to Chromia at all times, to put in a call. She held up two fingers, meaning to call Alina Krasnikova, not Keri Wyse Aart. She would have something to report, and even if it cost her career, she would be okay with it.

"Nancy," she continued, turning back, "I need you to find these people."

She pushed her phone toward Kard with the email still on it. As Kard's eyes read the phone, her face stiffened.

"Ma'am," she answered, "That's going to be difficult. They probably aren't going to be very trusting of anyone, even those that side with the Banijans, and if they're asking for asylum in Tikariot..."

"No," Sarlalee corrected, "Don't approach them as an ally of Banija. Approach them as a citizen of a country who understands what it's like to have their footballing heroes be exiled for saying something that the government didn't believe in. Approach them as a Chromatik that understands what they are going through because we went through a similar event not too long ago. Tell them that they'll have asylum in Chromatika, far away from the dangers of this place, and that we'll provide them with a platform to speak to their people without any kind of oversight nor suppression. We Chromatiks support free speech, and we want to help. By my authority as Ambassador, promise them that."

Her entire retinue looked at her, surprised. They could tell by the look in her eye that Saralee wasn't messing around, and Nancy slowly nodded before leaving the group in a dead sprint.

"We're going to have to act fast if she's successful," Saralee told the rest, "Have a plane ready on standby. Have documents prepared."

"And Marx?" she turned, reaching out a hand, "Get me that call. I guess I might as well face the music preemptively."

Taking a deep breath, she prepared for the potentially biggest move of her ambassadorial career.

---

That Evening
Chromatik Ambassador Residence
Varakoula, Tikariot

As the clock struck midnight, Marx David, the securities officer for Saralee Ambroise that maintained the secure connection between Chromia and the Ambassador wherever she went, opened a briefcase in his room, took out a rather small tablet, and made a connection discreetly to a private server.

Being a securities expert had its perks, and the fact that he was so high up in Ambroise's circle meant that he had access to items to keep his communication secure that would make it almost impossible for anyone to catch unless they were really good. With a distinct "beep!", the tablet chimed, and indicated that he was connected with his client on the other end.

"Identify," came the voice on the other end.

"Silence. Alpha Bravo One Three Niner," he answered, "You know well as anyone that you don't let anyone in here that doesn't have access. I have something for you, and you're going to like it, but it's going to cost you and the SH a lot."

"Ah, Silence. Glad to speak to you again. Your intel has always been good, as has been your secrecy. We appreciate your decorum, and hope that you're willing to deal with us again?"

"Depends on if you have what I want," he replied back, "Because let me tell you, this is good."

"Our systems say you're somewhere in Rushmore," stated the woman at the other end, "Would this have anything to do with our missing Ambassador?"

Marx swore under his breath. The more that his client knew about what he knew, the less leverage he had.

"Drop the chase, Silence. We are going to figure it out sooner or later, and we'd rather have it be sooner. Where is she?" insisted the voice.

"I want 20 million NMS," he uttered urgently, "And personal assurance that you won't come after me or my folks whenever the big day comes."

There was silence on the other end, before the reply came:

"The first part is done. We've moved 20 million NMS to your private account. The second, however, isn't possible. We have no idea how complicit your people have been - and if they need to face justice, they will."

"That's not how this is going to work," insisted Marx, "Either you guarantee that they'll be safe, or no deal."

"We can guarantee that they won't be a target. Collateral and incidental, we cannot promise. Is that good enough?" answered the woman in an even tone.

Marx sighed, before responding, "Yeah. I guess so. Okay. BanAm is in Tikariot at the conference, you know that - it's all over the news."

The woman at the other end waited, as if to let Marx continue.

"However, she's now looking for those three Nyowani Kitara players that just asked for asylum in Tikariot. Says that she's going to promise them asylum in Chromatika, and that she won't take no for an answer."

"How reliable is this information?" asked the woman almost instantaneously.

"I'm very sure," he spoke back, "I would bet my life on it."

"Very well, Mr. Marx David," came the voice, causing Marx's blood to chill, "We will believe you, for now. We hold our word. Are you sure that you don't want to join our cause?"

"I'll... Think about it," he answered, trying to maintain his composure.

"You do that," stated Kim Da-Bi, the Mesmer of the Shadow Hand, "Good night."

As Marx David looked at his phone, noting that his bank account had 20 million more NMS than it had before the call but also feeling chilled to the bone, Mesmer sent a small message to Controller, and the Shadow Hand moved a Pawn to D4.

They would not squander the opportunity of a rogue Ambassador, and they had plans for the chaos that Saralee Ambroise was about to cause in Chromatika.

[Farfadillis]

“Urtzu, I’ve got news!” He shouted as he entered his luxurious house in Goyuri-Andona, Gortz. His girlfriend, Urtzumu Pikazarri, was sitting in the living room, head buried in her phone.

“Mhm?” She hummed, her eyes decidedly not pointing at him.

“I just finished talking with my agent,” he said as he sat down on the living room’s table, “and apparently there are three offers for me!” His sheepish excitement was plain to see in his very wide, very pure smile. Dumbass.

“That’s great, darling,” was her monotone reply. She kept typing for a few seconds. Kolejes waited patiently. “Any from Iturributa?”

He shook his head. “No, sorry, darling. I don’t think Gortz are willing to sell me to the competition.” He said, extremely apologetic.

“It’s ok. So long as it’s an exciting place to live, at least…” She kept typing.

“Well, exciting it is for sure. Perhaps a little too much…” He trailed off.

“I doubt it. What are the offers, anyway, darling?” She asked absent-mindedly.

“Well, first off, they’re all willing to at least double my salary. One of them even wants to triple it. I’m thinking we’ll have no trouble finally affording that necklace you’ve been talking about so much.” Standard strategy: lead with the good news.

“Oh! Why didn’t you start with that!” She exclaimed as she finally looked up from her phone. She immediately stood up and sat in the chair in front of her fiancé. “Tell me all about these offers. What country? What city?“ Her eyes fixated on him like a predator.

“Well, you see, ‘country’ is a very difficult concept to define… like, what really is a country?” He tried to sound smart, but he was very bad at it. “It’s such a, uh, feeble. Yes, feeble is the word. Such a feeble concept.”

She raised one eyebrow in confusion. “Darling, a country is a country. Don’t be silly.”

“Yes, but, like, the concept of state and of national identity, it’s all so, uh, fake. Yes, fake. A country is nothing but, like, a loose idea that a lot of people share while living close together, and that’s hardly something that matters, right? Like, it’s totally crazy that people kill over these things.”

“Uh…”

“If you ask me, what matters is not the country, but us. We love each other, and that’s much, uh, stronger than any stupid ethnonationalist credo shared by a group of people in a loosely-defined piece of land, yes, the places where these offers are from.”

“Ok, Kol, you know I’m not good at understanding words, so stop it with the big words like ‘ethnonationalist’, ‘credo’ and ‘loosely’ and just come out and say it. I can smell bullshit in the way you say things.“ She crossed her arms and put on the fakest frown Kolejes has ever seen. “Where are these clubs? Just say the countries, it’s not hard.”

“As far as I know, scholars haven’t quite settled on an answer to that question.“ He started to sweat. “But how much can it really matter? Triple salary! And it’s a much better league. Could be an enormous step in my career.”

“That’s fantastic, darling.” She said, clenching her teeth in exasperation. “But I want to know where I’d be living for a few years if that’s ok.”

He sighed. “The offer I’m leaning towards is the one from Mâ Âlâmëómë.”

“I, uh.” She paused for a second. “Did you just try to summon a demon or something?”

“Sorry, sometimes I forget you don’t actually follow football. It’s a very big club, one of the biggest in the Multiverse, probably. All eyes would be on me, and they want me as a starter, to boot.”

“Ok, darling, that’s great, but where are they located? I’d look it up but I’m out of goat blood.”

“Rülândéá.”

“Please stop doing that.”

He sighed again. “Rülândéá. Ruland. Ruland, Farfadillis.”

Her eyes widened. “No. No fucking way. That’s where you’re from!”

“Actually, I’m Indu—”

“People die there, Kol! All the time!”

“Yes, but not the families of footballers. They treat those like royalty.”

“Look, as far as I’m concerned, they could add ten zeroes at the end of your salary and I still wouldn’t go. I don’t want to die, Kolejes. What about the other two offers?”

“Well, another one is from their cross-city rivals so I assume that’s off the table, too—”

“Damn right.”

He sighed a third time, then took a deep breath. “Third offer is from La Nueva Avenida. Another big club, lots of exposure, much better place to live.”

“Where is this club located, Kolejes.”

“In Farolera, darling.”

“Ok, that I did catch.” She began typing furiously. “Yeah, thought so. No fucking way. Sorry, darling. Your country is a hellhole and I want nothing to do with it.”

“My country is actually Indu—”

“Besides, I’m sure you’ve received other interesting offers.”

Kolejes shrugged. “I have, but Lele wants to keep me in the dark about them for now. Something about adding to the excitement. If you ask me, he’s trying to squeeze every cent out of them, and if he fails at that he’ll tell me they’ve backed out, or maybe that there never were offers and it was all one of those silly pranks he likes to pull on me when on the NT. Like how he’s been playing me out of position for years now.”

“Darling, I’ve heard you bitch about that since the day we met. Either grow a spine and confront him or shut up about it. It’s lame.” She continued staring at her phone. “If there are any offers from Iturributa, or maybe someplace tropical, I do want to hear about them, though.” She stood up and kissed him on the forehead. “Love ya. I’m gonna go shopping with the girls now, don’t wait for me!” She said, cheerfully, as she got up and headed for the door.

Kolejes sat on his chair, contemplative. “Man, playing for Mâ Âlâmëómë would’ve been so cool.” He kicked himself.

Ӿ Ӿ Ӿ Ӿ Ӿ

Kolejes timidly used his fork to play around with his food, not knowing how to bring up the topic. He looked very silly, but it didn’t really matter because his girlfriend was staring at her phone, anyway. “Probably using the app to find friends to go shopping with, the one with the flame for an icon,” he thought to himself. “What does that app have that I don’t?” He wondered.

A few minutes passed without either of them touching their food, as expensive as it had been for him to bring her to a restaurant like that. Eventually, he worked up the courage to bring up the topic. “Honey, I talked to my agent again today.”

“Mhm.”

“There are three new offers, none from Farf clubs.”

Likely due to sheer luck, she looked up from her phone at that moment. It took her a second to process what he’d said, as she hadn’t actually been paying attention, shockingly. “That’s great, honey! Tell me about them.”

“Well, the one I’m leaning towards is from Spartangrad, a big Euran club. Better salary, better league, more exposure. In short, a fantastic opportunity. And I don’t even have to get all philosophical to try to convince you to move to Eura, huh?” He joked, but it fell completely flat.

“Kolejes… one of my exes was Euran. I told you all about it when we started going out! Trevor fucking Lockhart.”

“Yes, yes, the one with incontinence, I know. Worst sex of your life, you told me that, too. But there are, like, three fucking billion Eurans out there, Urtzu. One or two of them are bound to be bad at holding it in.”

“I’m sorry, darling, I just don’t want to relive the trauma. What about the other two offers? Surely they’re good, too.”

He took a deep breath. He could not hide his disappointment. “Well… I guess there’s also the offer from Crisisbless. Big Nepharan club. The Zenith is about as prestigious as it gets, so it’d be an offer about as good as Spartangrad’s, I guess…”

“You’re kidding.”

He closed his eyes to reign in his exasperation. He was a patient man, and he wanted to stay one. “I’m not, darling. What’s the problem with Crisisbless?”

“The weather is horrible there! Everyone knows Nephara has, like, permanently gray skies. Or was that Brenecia? I think it was Nephara. So no, not going there. No way.”

Kolejes looked out the window. For a few seconds, he stared at Gortz’s overcast sky. He was pretty sure it had been like that the entire month at the least. But he was a patient man, and he loved her, so he persevered. “Ok, the third offer might interest you more. It’s from Colonial Sile, in Vilita. Tropical country.”

“Oh, that does sound interesting. Better salary?”

“Yes, better salary. Not quite as good a move for my career, but players like Nofzaleiné and Alaminos made it big while there, or so Manguele said in order to make it sound like a good offer. Anyway, does Colonial Sile sound good?”

She stroked her chin for a moment. “… Maybe. I’ll have to do my own research. I’ll get back to you when I do.”

“Ok, babe, but do hurry up. Transfer window closes in three days.”

“I will, babe, don’t worry.”

“And, uh, if you change your mind about the other offers don’t hesitate to—”

“I won’t.”

He looked stared at his food for a moment and then finally, silently, began eating.

Ӿ Ӿ Ӿ Ӿ Ӿ

Kolejes was a heavy sleeper, but was nonetheless woken up by his girlfriend when she crashed into his bed, clearly very drunk. She’d gone shopping again, and once again she’d returned in the late hours of the night, her make-up and hair a mess and her sobriety… lacking. Oh, how he disliked Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays.

“Hey, Bikendi, if yous beg for meer to stayeh in Gortz riiiiiiiight now, I’ll tell my boyfriend we’re not going to Vi-Vil. Uhh. Vilitia. Whatever.” She screamed at her phone.

“Who’s Bikendi?” Kolejes asked, suspicious. He knew it was a man’s name.

“Uh.“ She stayed mute for about five very long seconds. “My father?”

“Your father’s name is Raitir.” He crossed his arms.

“Bikendi’s his. His uh. Seeecond name. Yes. Yeees, it’s that. It’s a term of enmeardent.” She babbled. A notification popped up on her phone. She wasted no time and read it immediately. “Also, daaaaarling. I love you, you know?” He grabbed Kolejes’ cheek and shook it a bit. “I love you a lot.”

He smiled at the rare demonstration of affection. It was enough to make his day and, more importantly, receptive. “I love you even more, darling.”

“Sooooo… Vilitia.”

“You don’t want to go.”

“No. It’s, uh, too wet.”

He hung his head. “Okay, darling. We’ll stay in Gortz.” He grabbed her cheek and shook it gently, like she’d done just moments before. “I’ll do it for you. But please go to sleep, you need to sleep off the alcohol.”

“And the crystals.” She pointed out, correctly.

“And the crystals.” He repeated back, with a soft, pained smile.

[Schima Bas]

Match Reports

MD 4: Mertagne @ The Circle, Alquerdi (25,000) 4-1, Schima Bas
‘21 Leonard Charbonneau
‘37 Hideki Nazar
‘45+2 Bassel Adel (P)
‘72 Fostin Feu
‘77 Hideki Nazar

---

MD5: @ Reçueçn, Unknown 2-1, Schima Bas
‘30 Casildo Hana
‘78 Reçueçn Player
‘81 Bisma Shehadeh

In which Gaio Grecio Chastises Bisma Shehadeh for Throwing a Shoe at a Journalist

“Bisma, you remind me of a dog I once had.” Gaio Grecio, the manager of the Schima Bas National Football Team had a finely manicured office, almost showman. There was a consistent use of mahogany throughout, and the Jasper Hickory Company, a luxury furniture designer located in Ourelasia had been well employed by the manager. The flooring and window construction was completed by -Sunset-Shimmer-‘s own Ekea International. Further accenting the space were other handiworks from Atlantian Oceania companies, including a Victorian-style lampshade depicting the glasses dome of Tachbe, completed by Vilitia and Turori’s Tiones Home Furnishings, the light dyeing the room in a nuclear orange. The light that shone into the room had an almost mathematical beauty to it, backlighting the manager when he sat in his leather throne.

Every file was in a subfolder, every subfolder in a folder, and every folder in a cabinet. When the tall, thick browed manager would invite you into his office to talk, it was always on his terms. One can’t help but feel the weight of the man’s presence, not intimidating, but demanding of your attention. Perhaps that’s why fiery midfielder Bisma Shehadeh stayed silent when the manager spoke to him.

“This dog, I got it as a guard dog, you know.” Grecio fiddled with a pen while he spoke. “But the thing with this dog is that it wouldn’t stop barking. Bird, barking. Truck, barking. Postman, barking. Wife, barking, you get it. It had a lot of energy. It mauled two people who tried to rob me once. Lacerated their thighs. One lost his leg due to that dog.” Grecio placed the pen on the table, moving it perfectly to the center of his manilla notepad.

“What I mean to say, Bisma, is I respect you. You are my man, you go and maul the opposition. Figuratively, of course.” The manager’s lips turned upwards in a smirk. “But you need to not bark so much. A barking dog will not get fed.” Grecio paused, eyeing down his midfielder for a reaction.

“Do you have any questions regarding my managerial decisions?” The manager asked a question, but then quickly added more conversation. “I was not ashamed of your outburst at the journalist. He deserved a shoe thrown at his head. But perhaps let them talk. They’ll prove themselves wrong.”

“Will you stand by me in the press conferences?” Bisma questioned.

“There are rules which we must live by, regrettably,” Grecio said. “I will find a way to dig at the fool, don't worry. But you should take the time, er- it’s a 3 match suspension, to train and practice hard. You are as much a benefit to our squad as you are a detriment to our opponents.”

“How far do you think we can go in this qualifying? Do you really believe we can qualify?” Shehadeh asked.

“It is unlikely, for sure. But look, crazy things happen in this game. Bisma, you are a great talent for our squad. I think if we can qualify, it will be you that will have played a big role in that. Sometimes you just have too much fire. I am asking you to dial back, not on the field but in the extracurriculars. Khuld Montemayor, the right back. He has taken after you. He now has tenacity, fights for every loose ball. However, he gets into a shouting match with this Mertagne attacker, Fostin Feu. Little scuffle, he loses his cool, starts shoving and then we’ve given a free kick. Who does he learn this from? You and your generation, you are still children of war. You want to fight. If we can fight 100% on the pitch, and leave the other barking dogs to shut themselves up, we have a chance of slaying giants. But, if we make stupid mistakes like that?” The manager lifted his hands up in exasperation.

“It doesn’t matter if we are in control of the match. In this group, things can change like that!”

Upcoming lineups
MD 6: Electrum @ Athena Racing Ground, Ourelasia (20,000)

Tebrum Bourreau,
Orgasni Azizi, Ausmil Trenuni, Gilles Bertrand, Khuld Montemayor,
(C) Makin Moghaddam, Bisma Shehadeh, Mukarram el-Muhammad, Leonard Charbonneau,
Hideki Nazar, Casildo Hana

MD 7: @ Guanacasteca, Estadio Tiburcio Carías Andino, Estelí (27,000)

Tebrum Bourreau,
Volfango Di Lello, Avery Cloutier, Gilles Bertrand, Khuld Montemayor,
(C) Makin Moghaddam, Bisma Shehadeh, Mukarram el-Muhammad, Araft Sergeant,
Jan Moustafa, Casildo Hana

[Oberour Ar Moro]

Renald la Reyne: Welcome back to Antenne Sports Football Night, I am Renald la Reyne. To my left is the former National Team manager, the Professor, Kadvael Heault. To my right is the former National team captain, Captain Oberour Ar Moro, Josselyn Pessiere. The breaking news: The Football Management Committee has announced that National Team Manager Perresson Coffriere has been releived of his managerial duties. Eight matches in charge, five matches in World Cup Qualification and he is gone. I will start with Josselyn, was this fair?

Josselyn Pessiere: Let me start by listing six nations. Alezian Union, Good Samaritans, New Zhengguo, Jeeves Land, Cheetahs and reptiles Coalison, and Oberour Ar Moro. What do these six nations share? They are the only nations in World Cup qualification with zero wins, zero draws, and five losses. That's how they're similar. How are they different? Alezian Union, Good Samaritans, and New Zhengguo were unranked in the last KPB rankings. Jeeves Land were ranked 285. Cheetahs and reptiles Coalison were ranked 172. Oberour Ar Moro were ranked 54th.

And some of those 0-0-5s are very unfair. Alezian Union, in particular, are very unlucky to be in the position they are. But you are your record, ultimately. The fans certainly aren't going to accept five losses in five. The committee couldn't. No manager in Oberour Ar Moro history has lost five straight games, until Perresson. And I think you could see it on the pitch at the Parade Grounds, I don't think the players could accept it either. Sometimes it's not your night and you have to accept that, but five not your nights in the row? The change had to happen.

la Reyne: Kadvael, what do you think?

Kadvael Heault: I've known Perresson for a sometime. And we were colleagues for a year, he sat in your seat Josselyn. In the Football System, with de la Charite, with Invicta, he was always getting maximum effort from his players, staying strong defensively. He was a smart coach. He had been considered for the National Team job before.

Perresson came on at a difficult time, there's a generational change in the National Team, and he really emphasized youth and foreign players in his pool. The challenge of working with the domestic teams in them not allowing players to participate in national efforts wasn't expected. But ultimately there isn't a single match, perhaps apart from Banija, that the Dragoons couldn't at least get a draw from. And Banija was at the Parade Grounds! I know Banija has never lost on Oberour soil, but as Josselyn noted, this is supposed to be a stronger team. It's unfortunate but the change had to be made.

la Reyne: Josselyn, reports abound that the FMC is going to name Ethan Stevenson, who last managed at Mancodas City in Poafmersia, the National Team manager through the Copa Rushmori. This is after rumors that Lükækš Væñøœrëñbérghüïś of Vdara would be getting the job, or possibly Deniel de Coulombes, the former National Team assistant who currently works at the FMC. What would you think of that hire?

Pessiere: We'll get this out of the way: He'll have to learn how to manage dual sweepers.

The entire panel laughs.

Pessiere: Apart from the tactics, Mancodas City had a very Oberour style of play. Attacking, fast paced, a lot of team and player rotation. And he was quite successful in his early tenure. He was a Manager of the Year in his league. On the downside, his teams worse as the years went on and he never truly broke through. Certainly though, the hope is that in the short-term he can stablilize the team and get some results.

la Reyne: Kadvael, with a new manager, possibly Ethan Stephenson, can the Dragoons make a run for the playoffs perhaps?

Heault: No team can be mathematically eliminated from qualification until after Matchday 8. But no, the Dragoons are going to be trying to prepare for the Cup of Harmony. They're four points behind Sangti to get to 7th, never mind being 13 points out of the playoff spots. The storm is over now. This is just disaster cleanup.

The next manager needs to settle the team, instill some confidence, and hopefully restore the relationship between the National Team and the various stakeholders. If he can't, it's just going to be a rerun of the Coffriere era with a foreign manager in charge.

---

With that, the clip ended, and the perky blonde suggested you subscribe and click the notifications bell. Perresson Coffriere sat back in the chair in his home office. Cardboard boxes of his items returned from Tourbillon Forest were piled awkwardly on the floor. His head lolled to the side toward the digital clock. 11:55 PM. Didn't matter how late it was, he didn't have any plans.

His eyes turned to his cell phone, lying on the desk. It had been ringing and buzzing all day with reporters trying to get in touch with him. Maybe a few people texted him with their condolences, he didn't know, he hadn't checked it for hours. But there was one person who he would like to speak to. And he's probably still awake...

He picked up the phone and went through his contacts, finding the right name. This is a stupid idea, he thought to himself. I'm not in the right headspace for this...

"Hello?" the voice on the other line picked up.

"Merard? Merard Mouschard! It's your old friend Perresson Coffriere. How are you?"

"Oh, keeping busy. Managing, trying to win some football games. How about yourself?" Perresson could hear the smirk on his voice.

Whatever goal Perresson had in this phone call went flying out the window, promptly. He immediately called Merard a knothead, described his improper choice of sexual partners, and then truly lit into him. "How dare you? How dare you! You were my friend Merard! I hired you at de la Charite, I helped you get your first manager job in Estipen, and you repay me by stabbing me in my back!"

The Regium Immortal manager butted in, indignantly. "I was standing up for domestic managers and my players, who didn't need to be associated with your waste! Of course," Merard said, laying it on thick, "I feel terrible about your firing-"

"-Stuff that fake pity Merard! You don't care."

"Of course I don't care! Antenne want to replace me with Milio Gabriel, and I refuse to let them. It won't happen! I would never sacrifice my job so you could finish mid-table with Cabo Azure or whomever! If you can't get results with the other 45 players in the pool, that's not on me!"

Perresson's got out of his chair and started pacing in fury, listening to his former friend. He didn't even sound like Merard truly, and that just made him angrier. His eyes passed over the clock again. 11:59 PM.

"Now, Perresson, if you need a reference or something, I might be able to...wait...who's there?"

The line went silent. Perresson stopped pacing. "Hello? Merard?" Nothing. The line was still connected, and there seemed to be some kind of ambient hum from the other side. But nothing for a minute. And then a voice came back on the line. Softer, weaker, but Merard.

"Perresson? Perresson are you there?" What happened? His anger and cruelty seemed completely drained away. Merard sounded tired.

"Yeah, I'm here. What happened?"

"Perresson...I'm sorry."

Perresson almost fell to the floor in shock. "You're what?"

"I'm sorry. I am really, truly, sorry. About...everything. Your job, how I used my players. I... was wrong."

He actually sounded like he meant it. "Merard, where did this 180-degree turn come from?"

Silence on the other side, then. "I don't know. But I just remembered that we hadn't spoken in ages."

---

"Nicely done, Peire," Anna Closier said with actual sincerity in her voice. "I knew you had it in you."

Peire was still buzzing. He and Anna had snuck into the Regium Immortal offices and at 0 A.M. had confronted Merard Mouschard's Vassal: A horrifying spider with way too-many eyes in his castle. Anna had tried to convince Piere that taking a guise that could face down a Vassal was an easy thing to do, but Piere didn't believe it. But he had done it, leaping out to face down the darkness-infected version of his manager turning into a retro-futurist space man with a laser gun.

"Where did the space suit come from anyway?" Anna asked. "These things are usually based on the person, they're not random."

"Um...when I was little kid, I did want to become an astronaut. They were heroic and exploring the cosmos, that's cool! Plus, there was Jak Gannic, Space Knight. You remember that show?"

Piere was instantly knocked away from his nostalgia for silly cartoons as Anna no longer looked impressed with him. Piere tried to regain the high ground. "Anyways, your outfit is as a ballerina. Where did that come from?"

"I used to be a ballerina," she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Piere could tell there was a bit more to that. Anna changed the subject. "Anyways Spaceboy, I helped you with your football manager problem. And per our agreement you'll help me out going forward. There's a music producer that may be abusing his artists that I want to investigate..."

[Abanhfleft]

Not-So-Young Guns, Part Four

National Football Team Training Grounds
Pilken, Dav Province, Abanhfleft
A few days before the World Cup 90 qualification game between Abanhfleft and Audioslavia

Kelly McGinnis wasn't the only person on the Abanhfleft women's national football team to experience a personal crisis once she had reached thirty years of age. Elene Liner, another close friend of Kelly's dating back to their days on the under-21 team, had actually celebrated her own 30th birthday a few days before Kelly, and around that time, Elene had also started taking a retrospective look at her own football career and her personal life in general.

Elene had been in the Abanhfleft national team setup for far longer than most of the others currently on the team, having played for them since she was just 9 years old. She was 14 years old when she was part of the under-15 team that had participated in the 9th Under-15 World Cup in Schottia. Back in those days, she was playing as a goalkeeper, but after Abanhfleft had lost the final against the hosts in a penalty shootout, Elene had gone through a personal crisis in identity. She knew in her heart that she could have saved those penalties and she could have helped her country win its first ever trophy in a football competition, but she couldn't, and now Elene felt that she couldn't be a goalkeeper anymore. So she hung up her gloves, so to speak, and decided to move up the pitch and become an outfield player. Elene tried playing in all of the possible outfield positions, searching for the place where she felt like she was the perfect fit, and she found it down the right wing. By the time she was 17, Elene Liner the goalkeeper was gone, and in her place was Elene Liner the right winger.

But even after she had moved up the pitch and started scoring goals instead of stopping them, Elene still found it difficult to capture any sort of international success on the national level. Well, everyone else who had represented Abanhfleft in football had found international success being difficult to achieve. That seemed to be the case for almost every sport that the country participated in, but it did look obvious that in most instances, the Fleftic national football teams had worse luck than everyone else. And with the knowledge that there might not be a lot of years left to go in her career, Elene was also beginning to wonder if spending all that time doing nothing but football and not focusing enough on her personal life was even worth it.

One of those moments was while Elene was changing into her uniform at the SFA's training grounds in Pilken, the capital of Dav Province. It was maybe two months after her 30th birthday, and once again she was beginning to feel the effects of her age, although of course she was never going to admit it. But her thoughts would be interrupted when another person entered the locker room. It was none other than Kelly McGinnis. "Kel!" Elene exclaimed. "Just the person I was looking for. Where in the world did you go after the game against Tikariot? You just ran off from the rest of us like that!"

Kelly laid down her bag on one of the benches in front of the lockers and sat down beside it. "It's a long story, Elene," she replied. "I don't even know where to start."

"Okay, let's start off simple. Why?" Elene asked. "Why did you run off after the Tikariot game?"

"Oh, that. I was just tracking down an old friend of mine," Kelly shrugged.

"And that was somehow so important that you had to rush through all of the post-game stuff?"

"The first flight to Haranguer from Lotharstadt leaves at one in the morning, and I had to be at the airport ASAP if I wanted to make that flight," Kelly explained.

"Haranguer? Really? What's so interesting about Haranguer to you that you just had to get there ASAP?" Elene asked again.

"I told you, I wanted to see an old friend of mine," Kelly repeated. "Do you remember Gareth Williamson?"

"Charlene's twin brother? Of course I do," Elene nodded. "Oh, yeah. Now I remember you two hanging around some. Yeah, what did happen to that guy? Last time I heard of him, he was supposed to be on the move to some other country. Not one in the Coalition though. Some place that was actually foreign. And why is he in Haranguer of all places?"

"That's where the story gets complicated, Elene," Kelly sighed again. "I managed to find Gareth, and we had a very… interesting conversation."

"How interesting?" Elene asked.

"I certainly learned a lot about what happened to him during all those years, that's for sure," Kelly said. "He was supposed to go to some place in New Gelderland called Olympic Nassau Bay before he got injured and the deal collapsed. Well, a few months later, the whole of New Gelderland collapses. You know that CTE thing that caused Guildy and Pru and Poppy and the other folks from the State of Panem to move here? Apparently it happened to New Gelderland as well. Makes Gareth feel like he's both lucky and unlucky. Unlucky to have missed out on a move abroad but lucky enough not to get caught up in a goddamn CTE."

"Geez, I never knew that," Elene said. "And I never thought Gareth was the type of guy to get injured easily."

"Yeah, well, he thought the same thing too," Kelly added. "But then he got injured again, and he got injured again, before finally Ceneisis had just had enough of him getting injured and released him. Just like that."

"Damn," Elene muttered. "That must have sucked. Is that how he ended up in Haranguer? But I don't remember him ever suiting up for All-Inclusive, I don't think."

"He didn't," Kelly shook her head. "And he didn't go to Haranguer straight away. He tried signing with a few clubs lower down the pyramid thing, hoping that one of them would keep him around, but those injuries were just holding him back until he finally found a non-league club in Haranguer called Haranguer Town A.F.C. and they decided to keep him around because, when does a former national team player ever come knocking on a non-league club's doorstep asking for a job? And he's now also going for coaching badges, so at least he's got that going for him."

"Oh, really? Good for him," Elene nodded. "How about you, Kel? You ever thought about going into coaching after all of this is done and over with?"

"I don't know," Kelly shook her head. "Somehow, I just don't see myself being anywhere near a good coach. I'd probably just get pissed off every time someone misplaces a pass. Yeah, I'd probably be too angry to talk for a single pass, let alone an entire tactics board. How about you, Elene? Have you thought about going into coaching?"

"Actually, I haven't thought about it at all," Elene said. "Not until today, at least. But now I'm thinking that maybe I could become a goalkeeping coach. Go back to my roots, so to speak. You know what I mean?"

"Oh, sure," Kelly nodded. She then went silent for a minute or two before she spoke again. "There's something else about Gareth too," she said.

"Oh, yeah?" What's that?" Elene asked as she changed out of her leggings and into her shorts.

"Did you know that Gareth got engaged already?"

"What!? No way! Really?" Elene asked with disbelief. "Charlene never said anything about this? Does she even know her brother's now engaged?"

"I got the feeling that Gareth was trying to keep this as private as possible," Kelly said. "But you know me. I'm a very nosy girl. And as soon as I saw the ring on his finger, I just had to ask. I actually thought he was married when I first saw the ring. Turns out it was just an engagement ring, but hey, it's pretty much the same thing these days, right?"

"Well, you don't sound too happy about it," Elene noticed.

"No! I am! Really! It's just that… Gareth said something else to me that day," Kelly sighed.

"What did he say?" Elene asked.

"He said that he loved me."

 ABANHFLEFT 1 - 0 DISPERTAG 
LINER (57')

           RHUBARBTON 3 - 6 ABANHFLEFT           
                (29')       KELLERMAN (10', 21')
 SINGLETERRY (58' og)       WOODWARD (38')
                (87')       RUSEV (47')
                            McGINNIS (65', 73')

STARTING ELEVEN VS. ZETA REKA AND HUGELTALDOM & KIMI-SUOMI
GK: Bronwyn Churchill
DF: Queen Yarnall, Christy Shepley, Skye Ereve, Georgine Baum
MF: Trinidad Kleist, Cecily Segovia
Elene Liner, Poppaea Fleet-Street, Amelie Rusev
FW: Kelly McGinnis

[Le Choix]

L'Église de Le Choix Announces New Flag

The Church of Le Choix announced a new flag for the nation, going from the black and yellow flag to the following:

• The white stands for the purity of faith.
• The orange stands for the warmth that we gain by sharing our faith.
• The eagle stands for the vigilance we must have in order to remain strong in our faith.
• The three strips stand for the three gods of the Church of Le Choix: God the Maker, God the Healer, and God the Warrior.
• The knight in the middle of the bird stands for the armament of the faith.
• The yellow parts of the eagle stand for the light that the Church will be in the darkness.

"We will stand stronger in our faith than ever," promised Pontifax Jacqueline at the flag announcement.

Meanwhile, The Chosen continue to play solid defensive football despite Ligue Légère being under suspension in the recent years, to the people's surprise.

[Eshialand]

Headfirst into the Mire
Lisander 1-2 Eshialand
Eshialand 3-1 Gatchingerrak Union

A fluid period of time™ prior...

"King William?"
"Oh hello, Refilene..." William replied to the man who just walked into his office.

The King and the governor of Aleirave, over the past few months, had gotten along quite well, and the Aleiravan Integration Initiative had made significant progress towards making sure that Eshialand and its new territory functioned as one entity. However, their progress towards improving Eshian relations with the Anaian nations had hit a snag. Many people in Anaia wouldn't know that Eshialand was even, in part, there; they'd either think Aleirave was still its own separate country or deny the island's existence entirely. Although their entire existence in the region being one small island with a population but one-tenth of the size of the Hoodblock Music Festival would get in the way of most regional projects, surely there had to be something they could do to make sure that their regional existence was known outside of a few drunkards in an Athearan sports bar on the night of the inevitable twenty-bajillionth El Recentico, right?

"So, I was recently sent something from an Ochre Islands delegation..."
"Oh, what could it possibly be?"
"They're planning on setting up a visa-free travel zone for Anaia, calling it "AORTA". They were wondering if Aleirave would like to enter... our foreign affairs are your job, so what say you?"

"Well, Refilene..." the king told Mr. Adari'ena with a certain sort of voice, one which surely carried an emotion, but one that could not be pinpointed, "you know Aleirave a lot better than I ever could, so how about you handle it? You may make the decision for me, and I'll just nod and smile. Does that sound good?"

"William... aren't you forgetting something? You know, the part about... WE'RE ONE COUNTRY THAT NEEDS CONSISTENT TRAVEL AND IMMIGRATION LAWS THROUGHOUT?" Refilene shouted.

"Oh right, yeah... okay then, what all does this entail? What exactly would we be signing up for?"

"All we have to do is allow residents of the other signatories to the agreement visa-free access to Eshialand, as long as their passport has more than 6 months left on it. They will offer the same to us, and all will be dandy!"

"...aren't we already allowing visa-free entry from every other nation?" William asked. "At least, the ones we don't have openly hostile relations with?"

"Um... you may have to check with the Department of Immigration Services on that one? I'm not too sure on the policy there..."

The king dials a number on his phone, it rings once, and a "hello?" can he heard through the line.

"Hello Ms. Frye! It's great to hear from you."
"You're the one who called me!" Laura Frye, the Secretary of Immigration Services, snapped back.
"I was just wondering about what our policy is on travel visas... do we have them at all, or do people only need their passports?"
"The the one who wrote the damn law, why are you asking me?" she yelled before hanging up to go back to playing Call of Valor.

"Why did I hire her in the first place..." William asked Refilene. "Actually, don't answer that. Even I couldn't if I tried. Anyway, I don't see a downside in this idea! It's good for Eshians who want to travel, it doesn't effect our own security laws, and it strengthens our political standing, so this can only be good!"

"What about Parliament? What will they say on the matter?"

"I'm sure they'll agree with us, Governor Adari'ena. After all, why wouldn't they?"

Lisander - 1 (REDACTED 82')
Eshialand - 2 (Harran 4', Longfield 53')

Eshialand - 3 (Carroll 14', 38'; Krupp 67')
Gatchingerrak Union - 1 (REDACTED 29')

[New Lusitania and the Algarves]

STL | Serviços de Transmissão Lusitana | EN |Desporto - 90º Mundial - Qualificação

Another Stop the Presses rushed production:
SLIPPING UP, BUT SURPRISINGLY SELECÇÃO STILL STANDING
Muralos 1-1 New Lusitania // New Lusitania 3-4 Siovanija and Teusland

October’s matches were of particular importance as it would demonstrate where any team really stood in their qualifying aspirations – this was no less true for the Selecção, which faced their IAC rivals Muralos and later received second seeds Siovanija and Teusland, to mixed results and reviews.
After everything had been cleared up in domestic territories, Grilo had the full squad to enjoy and use however he saw fit, with only Ferradura, who had been sent off in the previous match, unavailable. This meant he was replaced with Domingues for the match. Muralos were stronger off the mark, a pattern which is eternal in recent New Lusitanian football, but by now and old story. Despite this, the game remained goalless until after the mid-way point. An inspired goal from the Muralos’ centre-forward, Brava, sent the ball flying past Lopes but would be reciprocated not ten minutes later when Silveira did his usual to tap it in from a lateral pass from Paciente. Unlike the opening goal, it was, overall, a heavily uninspired game and nothing to write home about, except maybe the lack of confidence and form we’re seeing with the Equipa de Todos Nós, currently.

Siovanija and Teusland would later be received at the Estádio Nacional do Jamor, the large bowl full for one of the headliners of the group. Similarly, to the last internationals, this one too, ended with a great match that did not disappoint fans… until the end result. Despite being one of the better Lusitanian performances this cycle so far, it was a defeat at the very end. Being 2-1 up at half-time, things looked positive in the national ground after Caldeirão and Fernando, together once more under the guise of the country’s badge, to score the pair. One came from an excellent piece of footwork from the former, to set up the latter; whilst the second came from a great through-ball over from Guerra. The first-half couldn’t finish without a concession and so 2-1, as already referred, was the scoreline. An equaliser from the Siovanian-Teuslandians came rapidly once the referee blew his whistle once more. 2-2. The visiting side quickly got a hold of the match with two more goals coming up until the seventy-fifth minute of play, and so the game was 2-4. A late goal still gave hopes to the droves of fans that the game could be equalised when Pereira forwarded the ball along to Braz, to make it 3-4. Their rivals attempted to now hold the line and secure the win, which they managed with success making the scoreline clear – their first defeat of the cycle. Despite being an acceptable rival to lose to, the way it was done was slightly shambolic, with the Selecção almost invisible for a solid twenty minutes during the second half.

Yet, despite losing four points in a short period of time, somehow, no one has truly broken away… yet. Group 2 is arguably one of the most competitive groups in the qualifying process, being the only group where the top side has yet to reach double figures and in the opposing side, the best tally for a last placed team (4 points so far). New Lusitania currently sit fourth, yes, but just one point from the leader, Le Choix, who is yet to play the crimson side. From a statistic point of view, even with more games, it hasn’t been a disaster either; equalling World Cup 89’s sum of eight and being slightly inferior to 88’s ten, paling against 87’s twelve from fifteen.
Once again, Grilo’s failings upon comparison don’t feel awful, and, after all, the gap to the leaders… for now, is smaller than in the previous three cycles. The team look very shaky at the moment, and it doesn’t take a lot to rattle that cage, or, equally, take advantage of it – it’s clear that there needs to be a learning curve and a refinement of tactics over the next few games. Defence needs to be worked at more than ever, seeing that despite the best attack in the group (11), no one has conceded as many (10). In the next window, during the November matches; the first-round finishes with the travel to leaders Le Choix and the reception of The Cordian Isles straight after – going into the qualifying phase, two wins were expected, though with the former in form it will be a tough, but necessary ask to which the Selecção hopefully rise above and see through.

[Brookstation]

WIN : NO WAY HOME
by John Trent

It has been four matches since Brookstation last saw a win. There has been a number of changes in the course of the past few days. There have been changes in formation, there have been changes in tactics, there have been changes in the team's lineup but one thing which didn't see a change was Brookstation's misfortune which stayed constant throughout the last four matches. Brookstation saw another couple of disappointing results. Scoring a mere number of 1 goal over the course of four matches is definitely not something one would expect from a team which plays in an offensive manner. Looking back at the previous world cup, one would realize that Brookstation's result was much better compared to this year's after five matchdays. Brookstation had nine goals, conceding only five in return. And now, we are struggling with four goals having conceded five.

It has to be admitted that Brookstation's style has become way slower and possessive than before. Brookstation had faced table toppers , South Newlandia on Wednesday and things went according to everyone's expectations and South Newlandia continued their winning streak with a one goal win over Brookstation. South Newlandia kept the ball to themselves for the major part of the match but Brookstation managed to sneak out the ball from them sometimes, they were not able to move past the mighty South Newlandian defense led by Dhruv Roy. The first half was dry with no teams managing to bring about a change in the scoreboard although South Newlandia had the clear advantage in the first half. There had been quite a few chances where South Newlandia could've made an impact on the score. In the very fifth minute of the game, South Newlandia had started a counter attack from the left with Rockbridge Phoenix midfielder Marcus Young leading the attack. A number of quick passes here and there and the brilliant ball control by the players saw the ball arrive at the corner of the box with Brandon Irving prepared to take a shot. Thankfully enough, the ball moved just slightly past the goal post to save Brookstation. Brookstation on the other hand also made a couple of attacks playing under their new 4-33 formation. Onfroy found Wague in an unmarked position in the centre of the box and tried to deliver the ball to him but Wague was not able to receive the ball from the other end, giving the opportunity to the South Newlandian defense to grab on the ball and clear it from their box. In the 34th minute of the firdt half, South Newlandian Dhruv Roy found the net. Frank Stuart got a comfortable amount of space and time in the corner of the box. He seized the opportunity and made a smooth pass to his nearest teammate, Roy who didn't fail to plant his effort into the back of the net. This had proved to be a major problem for Brookstation considering the fact that their 3-4-3 was already lagging and if things kept continuing at this pace, things might become really bad for them in South Newlandia.

Things were expected to change in the second half and expectedly it did. South Newlandia kept continuing their attacks but the Brook defense along with the struggling midfielders were able to keep things stable. At that point of the match, all the midfielders had shifted to the other side of the halfway line to keep South Newlandia from attacking . It seemed as if a bunch of elephants were somehow being blocked by dead and hard trees of the forest. Pretty bad joke, I guess but that is actually how things were that day. Time just went by without any new advancement coming into sight until the referee himself blew the whistle, giving only a minute of injury time. Being a human, it was natural for the referee to get bored seeing a boring as well.

If the readers think that this is how you define a boring game, you are absolutely wrong. The events of the next match were way worse than before and that might as well be noted as one of the most disappointing result the Brookstation National Team had ever produced. Seeing your team play against a team which had lost all of their previous matches would obviously make you gain a lot of confidence. Brookstation were expected to win this match at the very least. Everything was in their favour.or was it ? None of the teams were able to score a single goal throughout ninety whole minutes of playing time. Something was fundamentally wrong in the game and I don't know what was. It was not as if both the sides didn't make the least effort to score. In fact both the teams were constantly trying to start attacks but for some reason they didn't turn out to be effective and that is what makes it more disturbing. Brookstation had reached pretty close at times, such as hitting shots saved brilliantly by the Lisander goalkeeper or headers which went just over the goalpost.
Perhaps it was Soham's 3-4-3 due to which our team wasn't able to score. The match ended in a goal less tie, disappointing the crowd of 30,000 at home.

Next, we are against Gatchingerrak Union and Eshialand, two teams very close to us in the table. With this set of matches, we will be reaching the end of the first half. Will we be able to see a win anytime soon ? Leave your thoughts in the comments down below and let's keep praying to break this deadlock.

SOUTH NEWLANDIA 1-0 BROOKSTATION                                    
Roy' 34

BROOKSTATION 0-0 LISANDER

[Squornshelan Remnant States]

The Kids Really Aren't All Right
Episode 2: Where We're Going We Won't Need Wheels

Nikoro Ola and Arvi Lehtinen were struggling to navigate. Neither had ever been to the Isle of Squornshelous before. Few Confederates had, what with it having been a hostile nation just a few years earlier. For some inexplicable stylistic reason, the road signs were printed in illegibly over-saturated combinations of red and black. Nicely stylish under bright sunlight perhaps, but they were a nightmare to decipher in the gathering gloom of dusk. The red tones cast by the setting sun behind them only served to exacerbate the problem. That the two had turned Nikoro's step-mother's minivan into something of a hotbox along they way may also have played a role in their struggles.

"What's our turn for the arena, man?" Nikoro was behind the wheel. He had been the whole way from the ferry terminal in Santraginus, and was definitely somewhat the worse for wear. Arvi had repeatedly offered to take a turn driving, but Nikoro insisted that he was too high to drive. Nevermind that they had both partaken equally, and were sitting in the same cloud-wreathed vehicle.

"I can't really tell, there's another sign coming up here, slow down a little so we can read it."

"Just pull the instructions back up on your phone dude."

"I'm on like 10% battery, gotta save some for a selfie at the game."

"Ah whatever man, anyway there's the sign, look! Don't miss it." Nikoro swerved to the right as if being abruptly thrown a few feet closer to the roadside might help Arvi's reading ability.

"It says expressway to Vogsphere left, the right is an exit."

"Wasn't there a bunch of small print down there too?"

"Yeah I couldn't read it though. Anyway it doesn't matter we're going to Vogsphere, and we're in a hurry, so take the expressway. Simple."

"All right man" Nikoro carefully engaged his turn signal and began to merge into the next lane. Simultaneously, a horn blast from the driver next to him and Arvi's shout assaulted his ears.

"Left, I said left! Expressway left, come on man!"

"All right man, you don't have to shout at me." The minivan lurched across the bright red painted lines of the gore between the exit and expressway ramps, nearly collided with a sleek black hovercraft, and settled into its new lane with its tires squealing loudly in protest.

"Holy shit, dude." Arvi stared blindly out the windshield.

"It's fine man, we're fine. Everything's fine."

Settled back onto an even keel, the two continued down the road in relative calm for a few moments, apart from returning a rather rude gesture from the driver of the hovercraft they'd nearly merged with. The ramp climbed up toward an elevated highway that was carried off into the distance by a procession of smoothly curved concrete pillars, their tops flaring out to cradle the elliptical underside of the roadbed. As they neared the quite impressive height of the highway, it became clear that traffic in their direction was carried on a lower deck, and they merged into five lines of traffic speeding along under the harsh glare of fluorescent bulbs, with traffic no doubt screaming by the opposite direction just a few meters over their heads.

"It's cool man, we're fine," Nikoro glanced over at Arvi, then back to the road. "You good, man?

Arvi let out a sigh, sagging into the seat as if the air he let out had been holding him upright, "Yeah man I'm good. Just got a little tense there for a moment." The quiet flick of a lighter came as Arvi found the means to deal with the tension. "I'll be fine, just a little freaked out being here is all."

"You think you're freaked out, man. I'm still worried what my step-mom is going to do when she finds out we took the van."

"You didn't tell her?! Are you kidding me right now?" Nikoro's only response was wheezing laughter. "You're really not helping my tension right now man, just drive and let me chill until we get there, ok?"

"All right, man, all right." Nikoro settled into his own seat to drive the final few miles.

As if on cue, flashing red lights appeared in the rearview mirrors, and a warbling howler siren cut through the blaring music.

"Shit, the filth, ditch the joint man."

"I know, I know, put the fucking windows down. We gotta clear the smoke."

It had occurred to neither of the boys that since the reunification, the Imperium's old laws prohibiting all recreational drug use were no longer in effect. Still, they did an admirable job disposing of the physical evidence. The clouds of smoke pouring out the windows as they cruised, hazard lights on, looking for a place to stop were harder to overlook. Eventually, they found a likely enough patch of shoulder, and the van rolled to a gentle stop. After a moment, the police hovercraft parked itself behind them, and a black-uniformed officer climbed out of the gull-wing door. He wasn't a particularly tall or large man, about average really, with brown hair and plain features behind a pair of mirrored sunglasses so large they might more properly have been called goggles. He walked to Nikoro's window slowly, with the practiced swagger that all good traffic cops seem to perfect. He was every inch in control, and in his element. Nikoro moved to roll the window down, only to find it had already been rolled down in their haste to air out the van.

"Cut the music boys."

In their panic to clear the smoke, Arvi and Nikoro had forgotten that the van's stereo was still pumping out metal at a high volume. Both reached simultaneously for the dial, and inadvertently turned it to maximum before one of their questing fingers found the off switch.

"That's better. You boys know why I pulled you over then?"

"No sir, umm, officer. I don't think we were speeding, were we?" volunteered Nikoro.

"I don't know either," Arvi added, with a hopeful grin.

"Well let's see some ID to start with and then I'll let you know what the problem is here." After a moments fumbling in pockets, the boys handed over their licenses, neither more than a year old, and waited, hardly daring to breathe. "Arvi aaaannnnnndd Nikoro. You boys aren't from around here then are you?"

"We're from Arkintoofle, officer. We came over for the match tonight." Arvi's tone and expression said that he was absolutely terrified of the prospect of an Imperial prison cell.

"I thought so, not too many Brantid names out this way. Oh, and one other thing." The officer tapped a few buttons on a bulky wristwatch that he wore, and a hologram shimmered into existence above it. The flick of a finger scrolled through text and zoomed in on a particular passage. "One of you boys want to read that line right there for me?" The two scrambled, nearly climbing over each other to lean in closer. Nikoro, being closer to begin with, had an advantage.

"Expressway 18 is limited to air cushion and ground effect vehicles only, wheeled traffic must use the 218 Bypass. What's that mean?"

"Well I'll spell it out for you I guess. This right here," the officer gestured broadly at the traffic flying past on the highway in blurs of metallic paint and streaks of neon light, "is Expressway 18. And this right here," he slapped the side of the van none too gently, "is wheeled traffic."

"So we can't be up here?"

"So you can't be up here." His expression changed from patronizing to something almost sympathetic. A softening of the jaw and brow. He laid a forearm on the windowsill and leaned forward, "Look, since you boys are new in town, I'll cut you a break this once. Follow me to the next exit, and I'll point you on your way to the Bypass. Who knows, light traffic, a little luck, and you might still make kickoff."

Matchday 4:
SDG 1–2 SRS

Scoring:
SRS: Naqvi 23', Takala 70'

Lineup:
SRS: Shimski; Nyberg, W. Harkhan, Ciernik, Achthoven; Zazagan, Hashemi (Marrish 74'); Naqvi, Takala, Yonte (Starosta 67'), Petrov (Tabur 88')

Matchday 5:
SRS 2–1 TSA

Scoring:
SRS: W. Harkhan 54', Damnagoras 75'

Lineups:
SRS: Anthonsson; V. Harkhan (Jagidar 71'), W. Harkhan, Ciernik, Malgos; Tabur, Hashemi (Arslan 80'); Vladcik, Damnagoras (Hedberg 89'), Aravit, Gerstlauer

Schedule and Results

FRND: SOL 3-4 SRS @ King Anthony Stadium (cap. 77,300), Branwen, SOL

MD1:  RWS 2-3 SRS @ Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the western spiral arm of the Galaxy
MD2:  KAN 2-0 SRS @ Empress Masumi Stadium (cap. 90,000), KND
MD3:  SRS 2-2 SWE @ Olympiastad (cap. 47,550), Arkintoofle, Megabrantis, SRS
MD4:  SDG 1-2 SRS @ Stadium Persekutuan (cap. 40,000), Kambang, SDG
MD5:  SRS 2-1 TSA @ Vogsphere Arena (cap. 90,000), Vogsphere, Vogsphere Urban District, SRS
MD6:  CHA  v  SRS @ Old Town Park (cap. 68,000), Billboard, CHA
MD7:  SRS  v  STR @ Estflanarena (cap. 31,200), Zarss, East Flania, SRS
MD8:  SRS  v  RWS @ Henkmar Field (cap. 29,850), Brasta, Sivolvia, SRS
MD9:  SRS  v  KAN @ Bridger Lane (cap. 72,406), Damogran, Algolia, SRS
MD10: SWE  v  SRS @ Pride of Virginia Stadium (cap. Yes, it probably has one, looks pretty big), Virginia, SWE
MD11: SRS  v  SDG @ The Lutenstaad (cap. 75,000), Lutenblag, Molvania, SRS
MD12: TSA  v  SRS @ TBA, TSA
MD13: SRS  v  CHA @ Admiral Cherenkov Stadium (cap. 71,200), Santraginus, Santraginus Urban District, SRS
MD14: STR  v  SRS @ Pale Football Stadium (cap. 60,000), STR

[Guanacasteca]

Servicio Guanacasteco de Noticias

Pigs got Carried to the Abbatoir

Camilo Gutiérrez, on coverage of the 90^th World Cup.

After some initial struggle from the Pigs during the first matchdays, including a 2-4 result against Polkopia at home in Estelí, seems that the team is slowly recovering the solidness we know about in the defense area as they managed to control the game, despite facing two strong teams like Recuecn and Electrum.

For Han Ruoyang pupils, the differences between bot teams didn’t mattered a lot, as Han always emphasizes his players “It’s always 11 vs 11, humans or sentient species, never outnumbered unless the team loses its state of mind.” Solidarity is always the key to keep in the fight and the match against Recuecn was the perfect demonstration of it. Despite being down thrice (1-0, 2-1, 3-2) the team always had a positive attitude and didn’t fell into desperation to score, instead, Orellana, Monterroza and Linton, the backbone of the team, lined up with the efforts made by Marín and Calderón in order to build a solid midfield front.

Said front proved to be useful in order to feed Fuller and Ingram, as both forwards were taking advantage on how slow was the Recuecnite defense. Fuller is slowly demonstrating why he is the reliable “poacher” of the team, he’s always there for scoring, no excuses and no issues with the ways of doing it, he tries to get the dirty job done for the team, something that Han loves a lot.

People might commit the grave mistake of ignoring the importance of Kenneth Ingram, that’s a sin if you watch a game and don’t figure the silent role of this striker, he’s always trying to create incommodity to the rivals, dragging him from one zone to the other in order to let a free space to Fuller. Having the talent of timing to receive balls is always useful, as Fuller might rely on him while not able to break past the defense, Ingram has something that Fuller doesn’t, the ability to dribble defenders and score. His brace against Recuecn gave proofs of said talent, as he dribbled the whole defense while scoring the 2-2.

Sean Fuller did rescue the game with a late 86th minute screamer from 25 meters away from goal, it simply doesn’t matters from where and when, Fuller’s chances are always venomous for the opponent and he knows it, that’s why he always tries to take advantage of said situation.

Meanwhile, against Electrum, despite not being able to score a goal past the opponents, the mindset switch from attacking to defending was vital, as Fuller and Ingram moved some meters behind the midfield line in order to provide support and vital oxygen to the incessantly bombarded defense, the Electrumites tried to open the can with crosses and mid-range efforts but González was always ready in order to stop said occasions of danger. Han Ruoyang constantly pointed his head to the players “think what you do, don’t compromise the team efforts by a selfish ideal.” As always, the Guanacastecans decided to lock the door and didn’t allowed the Electrumites to kick it down (They can only kick ass, not doors).

The Pigs kept calm despite the booing and pressure that the Electrumite fans were doing against the team, instead, Monterroza decided to go with his classical antic of “I can’t listen you” by always touching his ears while doing a throw-in or a play that made him go as close as possible to the fan stands. The Electrumites were out of themselves, they weren’t being able to decipher the code put into the gridlock that the Pigs mounted in defense, that situation lasted for the entire ninety minutes as the República Guanacasteca managed to obtain two valuable points from two top seeds.

It’s matter to see if the team is able to survive the Cassadaiguan offense when said match comes in, as Han Ruoyang said “If we applied 100% of concentration against Electrum, we will need a 200% against Cassadaigua, as they will be even more offensive compared to the Electrumite squad. Caution will always be important for this project for the future of the República Guanacasteca.”

[Graintfjall]

Trolleborg – 4 (1)
Kerr (11’, 66’), Kroonquist (50’), Schendel (87’)

Græntfjall – 5 (2)
Björnólfur; Michelle, Grímúlfur, Hjörleifur (73’), Emeli; Álfar (57’ Johanna (81’ pen.)); Lana (28’), Sara (78’ Ari ); Amanda (59’) (72’ Vanessa (90+4’)); Justiina, Jason (5’)

---

Græntfjall – 1 (1)
Björnólfur; Michelle, Vigfús, Hjörleifur (90+2’), Emeli; Álfar; Kjárr (74’ Vanessa ), Johanna; Amanda (66’ Sara ); Justiina, Röskvi (4’) (70’ Ásvarður )

Nagore – 0 (0)

90 word match report: The Snow Wolves kept their winning streak alive with a crucial win over Group 4 second seeds Trolleborg before seeing off visitors Nagore. Their five wins keep them atop the group, but they have forthcoming opponents Juvencus breathing down their neck and cannot afford to let up the pace. The nine goal shootout against Trolleborg tested the nerves, fingernails and sobriety of the small group of loyal Snow Wolf Pack fans who had made the trip, but Vanessa Marvinsdóttir snatched victory with her maiden goal four minutes into added time.

---

“Remind me why I’m doing this?”

“The elections. These negotiations have to be bigger than party. And the only way I can be sure of keeping Styrbjörnsson’s nutters out is…”

“…if you stay out of it, too.” Princess Jessika grimaced: she understood Kaija Michaelsdóttir’s predicament. She just wasn’t overjoyed to be the personal angel of her deliverance from it. All her life, Jessika had stridently avoided taking on anything like this. She’d hoped a naval career would offer respite. Instead she found herself being summoned back to base by an embarrassed commodore who informed her of her new assignment: leading Græntfjall’s delegation to the peace talks in Tikariot.

Any deal requiring Græntfjaller assent would of course need to be run through the government, the Thing, and the Prime Minister. But with the elections entering their bitter, frantic final week of campaigning, purdah had been invoked. The lame-duck Left-slate government had no right to take the lead in the negotiations, but the Foreign Minister, Kaija, was too busy campaigning to move one seat up the Cabinet table. The Blue-Greens, technically the fourth party in the Thing, had no real claim either. Indeed, in this air of political foment and confusion, the only thing everyone could agree on was that Crown Princess Kassandra couldn’t be sent. No one needed that particular brand of crazy at the peace talks.

“I don’t want you to let up on the refugee issue,” said Kaija, before correcting herself: “I mean, the government doesn’t want…”

“Uh huh.”

“Græntfjall has taken in more refugees than any other nation. And for a while that was making things very, very difficult for all of us.” Kaija smiled. “Though your little mission down there certainly helped sway the public mood.”

Jessika shrugged modestly. “I just shook a few hands and kissed a few babies. The real heroes are the doctors and workers, the aid workers and…”

“I know,” said Kaija flatly. “But still. You and Jason did some good.”

“Mmm.”

Kaija had never seen a Princess squirm before. She had always liked Jessika, and rather hated herself for how much she enjoyed seeing her flustered.

“Sore subject.”

Jessika scratched her nose. “So we’re asking for, what, financial aid from the rest of the Rushmore? Promises to take in more refugees?”

“We’re looking for the refugee flow to stop. The high level talk will be about what happens to Malik Akongo and Max Ulf. What we’re worried about is what happens to everyone else. We need a … settlement that people can live with.” Kaija gently shifted across the table some papers detailing Græntfjaller criteria for fair election monitoring, the criteria that they would use in assessing whether any such polls had legitimacy. She knew Zóphonías Juliusson would never forgive her if she didn’t mention his pet issue. “There’s also the question of conservation, a joint ecological effort in Lake Viljan…”

“He’s a twat,” broke in Jessika fiercely. “An over-sexed turnip. I’m not even convinced he has a brain, I think all the blood just flows directly to his di–”

–plomacy had always been Kaija’s forte. She nodded sympathetically, and put aside the briefing note on Lake Viljan wetlands management. “He has his moments.”

“His moments. Ptchah!,” spat Jessika viciously. “He has his whores, you mean.”

In the icy silence that followed, it occurred to her…

“I mean, I didn’t mean you.”

Kaija waved it off. “It’s OK. I know.”

“You and he…”

“Once upon a time.”

“What happened?”

“Well, for one thing I got married.”

“I guess that would stop it.”

Kaija hesitated. “Yes…” Honesty had not always been her forte. “You know, maybe we should get back to discussing Lake Viljan?”

“I don’t know, I feel ridiculous. Sobbing over a footballer of all things.” Actually, Jessika was dry-eyed. “I just thought… he came and rescued me. It’s like a fairy tale. Except in this fairy tale you find out he’s screwing another woman.”

“So, in terms of the environmental burden, all we’re really looking at is…”

“He can’t even be honest about it, that’s the worst thing. I thought he liked me. Then I find out he’s got this other little whore.”

“…migratory birds are, of course, a major concern…”

“And now of course Kassandra has this big wedding planned and there’ll be all this speculation about me.”

“…now in terms of invasive species protection, recycling ballast water is the really big issue…”

“And he’ll be off with some slut called Rose.”

“…perhaps a general agreement on, I’m sorry, Rose?”

Jessika nodded. “Probably foreign. Some foreign who–”

“Yep, got it.” Kaija titled her head. “You’ve met her? You caught her with him?”

“…well, no. But he had a note in his phone. A reminder that came up. And he made some lame excuse. But I checked the … team sheet thingy. And he’s not even playing. He came back to Græntfjall and he’s not even playing? And then he has this horrible note in his phone…”

“Which you saw?”

“He was in the shower.”

“Mhm.”

“I thought it could be important, OK!”

“OK, OK… what did the note say?”

Jessika sighed and rolled her eyes. “I don’t know.” She looked skywards for inspiration. “Rose coming down, 3PM.”

Kaija pulled down her glasses and rubbed her nose. “Your Highness…”

“Please, call me Jessika.”

“Actually, if I’m going to call you an idiot, I’d rather do it after I’ve called you Your Highness.”

Jessika’s mouth flapped soundlessly.

“You don’t know Jason very well, do you?” Kaija ground her teeth. She was running neck-and-neck with a fascist psychopath. She was trying to coach a princess in the fine art of international statecraft at the most important peace talks in her nation’s history. And now she was playing relationship counsellor.

“Your Highness. You idiot. Rose isn’t a woman…”

[Astograth]

Previously

“Whose passport is this?”

“Mine,” replied Itziar Lévêque, for what seemed like the hundredth time.

The border control officer folded his arms and clicked his tongue.

“It’ll only get worse if you keep lying. Where did you get it?”

“It’s a real passport!” exclaimed the right-back, lifting his face out of his hands. “It’s a real passport,” he repeated.

The officer sighed. “Look, we know it’s fake. Whoever sold it to you did a bad job. Tell us where you got it and we’ll go easier on you”.

Lévêque’s heart twinged. Easier, not easy. He was in deep shit, and for something he hadn’t done. This was his passport, the very real passport he’d renewed at the civil registry in Basabe a few years ago. He’d used it many times since without issue. He’d travelled to and from Ruland for a year with it, he’d gotten a job in Brenecia with it.

“There’s been a mistake,” he moaned once again. “Please.”

---

"So how'd you do it?" asked Koldobika, chomping down the last of his Djocorangan takeaway.

Urtzi shook his head while he licked his thumb clean. "It's done. That's all you need to know."

"Oh, come on. How'd you pull it off?"

"Nope, can't tell you. In fact," and Urtzi emphasised this with a finger soaked in lamb sauce, "I shouldn’t have told you about it at all. Top secret.”

“I can keep a secret.”

“I know, I know. But you know. It’s delicate,” Urtzi looked his office partner up and down. “Not that I don’t trust you, but I need to be careful. It’s better for you if you don’t know, you know.”

Koldobika smirked. “But I already know. So just tell me how, I’m curious.”

The temptation tugged at Urtzi. It had been quite ingenious, to be honest. He folded a piece of bread around some spicy lentils and tucked it into his mouth. While he chewed, he took another look at the door. Fully closed, and all quiet beyond. They were on level -3 of the Ministry of Interior headquarters of Rumiatzi, about as buried down the basement as they could be. He’d spent the last seven years here with Koldobika, plus another five together when they were based in Eitzaga. Fine.

Urtzi leaned in and looked both ways, at nothing in particular.

“I swapped him,” he said.

Koldobika’s look was puzzled.

“National team wanted Izotzubia. So Ministry of Sport wanted him. So Interior had to find his papers… didn’t have any. None. Like he never existed, like he wasn’t even Astograthian. No birth certificate, no ID number, nothing. No passport, obviously. Nothing to show for his parents, either.” Urtzi swirled some buttery egg-mash on his cardboard plate. “They told me to get him some. So I swapped him, with another Astograthian guy in Ruland. Practically the same person, but the other guy’s expendable. ID, passport, all of it. If you look it up now, it’s got Izotzubia’s picture.”

Urtzi allowed himself a little smile of pride. “All the records consistent, too. Changelog manually edited, the works. I really got in there. It’s airtight, watertight.”

“Huh,” said Koldobika, visibly impressed. “Like nothing was amiss.”

[Eura]

WORLD CUP 90 QUALIFYING GROUP 6 – MATCHDAY 4
Chromatika 3 – 2 Eura
Scorers: Robson 12, Rowland 46
Lineup: 1. V Simm, 2. A Mason, 4. J Menard, 5. T Green, 15. K Sherwood (sub Purcell 85), 3. L Almwood, 6. M Rowland (sub Vincent 62), 8. V Robshaw, 7. M Woakes, 10. T Sutton (sub Atkinson 83), 9. S Robson

WORLD CUP 90 QUALIFYING GROUP 6 – MATCHDAY 5
Eura 3–3 Sargossa
Scorers: Woakes 24, Atkinson 36, Tomlinson 82
Lineup: 1. V Simm, 19. J Byrd, 25. A Coles (sub Green 75), 15. K Sherwood, 18. S Erskine, 16. O Vincent, 7. M Woakes (sub Bowman 62), 14. C Atkinson, 9. S Robson (sub Tomlinson 66)

---

SWest Flight 2859 touched down at Bastion Fairways International Airport in dense fog. Its passengers, all 253 of them, could be grateful that the jet hit the tarmac softly and decelerated with polite delicacy. This region of the vast Bastion metropolis was under a layer of dew tonight that made runways like this one slick and unforgiving.
However, no-one on board was as relieved as Patricia Westermark. On the horizon, even through the low visibility, she could see the immense glow of Bastion, a city with more people in hit than her whole country. Most experienced a collection of emotions on seeing it at all, let alone newcomers; euphoria at the possibilities, dread at the potential to become lost and alone, uncertainty at whether this was a new Babylon of opportunity, or a giant graveyard of untested visitors, cluttered with enormous multi-storey steel and glass gravestones.
She did not care. She just wanted her and her kids to be safe.‘
There was a gentle tug at her lapel. The youngest of her two kids wanted to know what was going
on. She said nothing, waiting for the plane to come to a halt.

Finally, it did so. ‘Ok, everyone up. Grab your bags.’ She double checked she had all the passports only to realise she was sticking out like a sore thumb, the only adult stood up on the entire plane as the others waited to be told they could get up. A well-intentioned flight attendant should have been expected to emerge and ask her to sit down until the aircraft had finished its landing procedure, but none came. Patricia soon saw why.
At the front of the cabin two police officers had arrived on the plane, along with a couple of well-dressed officials. The chief flight attendant was showing them the manifest. Shortly after she noticed Patricia standing, pointed at her, and the men began moving down the aisle rapidly. Her blood ran cold.
‘Patricia?’ One of Mrs von Weber’s kids wanted to know what was going on now. Patricia instinctively pushed them back into their seat and took her own. ‘Everyone shut up!’ It was too late. The mostly Euran passengers were either glaring in annoyance at the disruption, or gazing curiously, wondering what was going on.

Patricia had grown up in a country where police and men in suits meant an internment camp or a bullet in a subterranean cell. Her thoughts, understandably, ran wild. We got so close. How did it come to this?
One of the police towered over, his handgun right in front of her. Euran police were not typically armed but airports were a different story. No, I couldn’t…
Her eyes welled up. This, it appeared, was it.
But when the first hand was laid on her shoulder, and she winced automatically, waiting for a baton strike or taser or cuffs, there was nothing. Instead, it felt warm and comforting. When it was withdrawn, she realised it came from one of the lead officials. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Westermark, isn’t it? Apologies if that was inappropriate – you just looked a bit, well, startled.’
‘Am I in trouble?’ she trembled.
‘No, ma’am. You’re safe.’
She didn’t smile or give a sigh of relief. Instead, Patricia just giggled uncontrollably as the pressure gave way to joy.

---

‘I would like to start my remarks by responding to some recent press reports about the families of Johannes von Weber and Vilgot Westermark.’ Carl Rutherford adjusted his reading glasses. ‘The responsible minister and their department will give more details, but I can confirm that seven individuals, all citizens of Nyowani Kitara, have been granted asylum in the United Federation of Eura, after arriving in Bastion on a commercial airliner. We are in conversations with the government of Nyowani Kitara about what has forced them to come to our country. However, regardless of the outcome of those conversations, the seven individuals have all been told they are welcome to remain in Eura indefinitely and will be given secure accommodation immediately. They will not face any legal proceedings and will be offered spaces on the Falcon’s Wings refugee programme. That is all I have to say on this matter at this time.’

Rutherford knew full well that the “seven individuals” were in fact the families of the two Nyowani Kitaran footballers. Apparently, they had been intimidated by the regime after the two players made outspoken remarks in Bastion about the political situation at home. Rutherford might have been giving Nafuna the benefit of the doubt publicly by refusing to cast blame, instead offering a solution. Nevertheless, he privately knew full well that this was another example of the little princess overstepping the mark. He or his Nepharan counterparts would have to rein her in later.
For now, it was back to business.
The talks had been proceeding along in the desired direction ever since Rutherford had marginalised the Banijans and read Malik the riot act, with the Banijans clearly forcing Malik to accept the inevitable exile behind the scenes. Rutherford had called time on their pretences of equal footing, and it had worked. It also offered a route out of growing tension between Eura and Nephara on the one hand and Banija on the other; the Banijans had accepted the limits of their role while being given the opportunity to take credit for talking Malik back from the edge.

Once Nafuna had overcome her pride and accepted Malik’s proposal, an important milestone had been reached and peace now looked much more likely. Everyone was a winner, especially those in Nyowani Kitara who wanted to have democratic elections in the near future.
Then came the unexpected intervention of the delegates from Tikariot. It did not change the facts on the ground in the slightest, but was it a wrench in the machinery? Absolutely. Rutherford had been externally serene but internally a bit annoyed by this new bump in the road. In the view of the Smith administration, Tikariot had kept their noses out of the pub fight next door for good reasons, and the Eurans felt it should stay that way. They envisioned Tikariot as a harmless arbitrator, lead by the unremarkable Anson Coltrane under the supervision of Foreign Minister Longobardo from a distance, who would not upset the applecart. Now they had, and it would need righting.

When Longobardo had made his intervention, Rutherford had patiently listened, his expression changing little throughout – including after Longobardo’s challenge to the momentum of the Nephara-Eura axis in these talks. He kept his perturbed spirit locked in a cage, the little-known warrior in him having been put on display plenty at the Kabaka’s expense the day before, while others descended into mild acrimony that led to Chief Negotiator Coltrane to call for a short recess.
Of course, where Prime Minister Smith would no doubt see Longobardo as an upstart that needed putting in place, Foreign Secretary Rutherford knew better than to disregard his wily opposite number from the host nation. It had been a clever intervention, one that forced him to take a moment and consider his next move rather than simply doubling down.

Rutherford could see what Longobardo – or at least his advisor Yorick Marmenlind, the “substance behind the show” according to his Euran intelligence briefing – had cooked up here. They had sought to defang the strong real-world hand held by the KPWC and its allies, by taking Eura’s CRC proposal and reframing it out of Eura and Nephara’s relative control, positing themselves as harmless, cool neutrals, stopping short of being too sanctimonious for others to listen. It had the added strength as a strategy of driving a wedge between Eura and Nephara as the Euran strategy was a compromise between the two, though this was likely by accident rather than design. There was potential for its primary effect to be to make Rutherford’s previous intervention look like an overreach (even though it wasn’t, given the KPWC’s backers had all the leverage), while having the secondary effect of causing a wound in the Bastion-Corvistone joint position.
Rutherford had no intention of allowing this to fester.
He would respond in a manner more traditionally associated with his style than the fireworks of before, deploying not a sword, but a handshake.

What followed during the recess was 15 minutes of high speed, higher stakes diplomacy. Out of earshot in a private meeting room, he got hold of Klose again, this time with a couple of their advisors to hand rather than one to one. He was determined that the Rutherford-Klose pact would hold, clad in political iron.
‘I hope you have a solution.’
‘I do’ Rutherford responded, sensing the exasperation in Klose’s voice, ‘courtesy of my colleague here, in part.’ He signalled to Minister for Rushmore Angela Green, his junior partner on this expedition.
While they had been listening to Longobardo wrap up and the kerfuffle that followed, she had enjoyed a bolt out of the blue for a counterproposal, and hurriedly written it down on her phone as she thought of it. She had subtly handed it over to the more analogue Rutherford – “where’s the hard copy” he asked innocently – who then ran through it hurriedly, nodding with an eyebrow raised as he did.

Green now had a chance to relay the plan and earn herself some extra credit in the process.
‘We need to challenge the narrative Longobardo set. That’s where Carl’s strong suit is, he can pick it apart. Dispute the notion that they are a truly neutral party in the matter, and reinforce our own strengths, and the credibility of Nephara’s election systems.’ Emmeric Bundsch, Chairman of the Electoral Commission of Nephara, was beaming from ear to ear.
‘I can do that!’ He perked up, relevant at last.
‘No,’ Klose intervened rather brutally, ‘Jade can pitch in and lead on what Nephara can and will offer, with you providing clarification when asked. Not to leave you with a mental shiner Emmeric, but we really don’t need to bore these people to tears with case studies about byelections in Sabrefell.’
Bundsch’s glowing expression went flat. No dice, then. Green continued; ‘after that, we throw back a counterproposal. A reset of their reset. No-one can doubt that Nephara can run its own elections cleanly, so competence is not an issue.’

‘Its really about trust. And building it, specifically, because we clearly lack it right now.’ Klose tapped her fingers on a table, unable to hide her irritation. Rutherford gave her a knowing look, as if to say, I know, but is she wrong? ‘I think the Tikariot delegation are throwing a curveball out of a belief that we won’t follow through with our clean election promises, that this is just a squeeze that we’ll walk back on as soon as Nafuna is secure. He obviously misunderstands both our nation’s goals. That doesn’t matter though. Perception matters, and if the international community agree with him, we have a problem.’
‘So, we call his bluff? Show that his concerns are a load of shite?’ Monika Lindbeck, ever the first in the room to anticipate the future, had called it already.
Green was thrown off slightly but regained her composure. ‘Yes, exactly. We propose the same plan – CRC run elections with an experienced member state taking the leading role, and make no secret of the fact we’ll make sure its Nephara. But we provide unrestricted observer access to international monitoring organisations, and actually go out of our way to give full access to a committee of interested parties – one team from a neutral country, and then one from a country supporting each of the three parties in the conflict.’

‘Which countries do you have in mind?’ asked Klose.
‘Tikariot as the neutral, Graintfjall for the DFLK, Yuezhou for the KFF, and Eura for the KPWC. Or maybe a less involved country than us if that’s too controversial – we could ask the Mytanars if they’d do it. I’m sure they’d take the easy foreign policy win given it’s a potential pressure point domestically. Anyway, this would blow away any concerns about the reliability of elections with Nepharan oversight because it will render any possibility of rigging extremely unlikely. There’s no real reason they can object to it.’
‘And if they don’t trust it?’ Larchwood had spent the entire summit looking determined to head home at the earliest opportunity. On this point, however, she was curious.
‘Then they can take it to the CRC and challenge us there.’ replied Green. ‘That adds another layer of bolstering the role of the CRC by making it the default forum for any dispute, and if Nafuna goes back on her commitments to reform, we can threaten to sell her out at a vote, or cut the rebuilding fund. Most of the money will be Euran anyway. Basically, either way, we get a win, and if it all goes tits up, we have mechanisms in place to resolve it. Any questions?’
The group stood in silence. Whatever could be said of her lack of experience, Green clearly had talent.
Rutherford was pleased. ‘Good. We’re agreed then.’ Confidence restored, he led them back into the eye of the storm. However, on his way, he took a short note and passed it to one of his less prominent advisors. The advisor gave him an affirmative nod and got to work on another part of the Euran approach.

With the recess expired, the delegates took their seats. Chief negotiator Coltrane welcomed everyone back and, seeing the Eurans wished to speak, gave Rutherford the floor.
‘Thank you,’ he began, ‘and to your compatriots for their thoughtful reflections just before the break, and their proposal.’ Foreign Minister Longobardo and his right-hand man Marmenlind nodded politely, pleased that their delicately put but substantively serious criticism had prompted a fast response. That meant they were being taken seriously.
‘Of course, I think we can all appreciate the contention from our colleagues in Tikariot that Nephara, or indeed ourselves, would not be a suitably neutral party to lead a CRC-managed election process. We do not contend that we are not entirely neutral. That would be absurd. We have backed the survival of the state of Nyowani Kitara and the restoring of peace at the earliest opportunity – a decision that, I might add, has been utterly vindicated by events in the field.’ Now that Malik Akongo had given in, Rutherford was reluctant to poke his ego any further, but it was a point that had to be reiterated.

‘However, I would counter that Tikariot is not a neutral party in this conflict.’
Longobardo raised an eyebrow in surprise. Marmenlind remained unmoved.
Rutherford continued without stopping to take a beat; ‘Look around us. Your government, very gracefully, has offered to hold this summit. It has offered to arbitrate, to allow the involved parties to resolve the situation. It has characterised itself as a neutral party with no dog in the fight beyond geographic proximity – which hasn’t stopped the government of Tikariot keeping itself well out of the conflict - with no desire to gain or lose in particular. And yet, suddenly, Foreign Minister Longobardo makes a thrust for influence over a key part of the future of Nyowani Kitara. Why might that be?’ Rutherford didn’t stop to wait for answers; the question was very much rhetorical, so he kept going. ‘I would suggest to the gathered delegates that the government of Tikariot is in danger of creating the perception that it is seeking, now, at the opportune moment, to gain influence and leverage over its war-torn, weakened neighbour, by cynically exploiting international disputes between more directly involved parties, gaining power in the country after missing the opportunity to take control before someone else did.’

Longobardo’s reaction had not evolved any further. Crucially, however, Marmenlind was apparently betraying a slight frown. But it was hard to tell with the facial hair, and even when shaven he was notoriously hard to read.
‘I have no wish to seed doubt about Tikariot’s role in the conflict. After all, their navy co-operated fully with the Euran operation to secure the maritime waters and coast of Nyowani Kitara, and avoiding obstructing our forces with their own. That remains much appreciated. Nevertheless, Tikariot’s proximity to the conflict is exactly the reason why it can never really be truly neutral – it might not side with the KPWC, or the KFF, or even the DFLK, but it can absolutely side with its own self-interest, just as any nation here would rationally do in the same circumstances. The Foreign Minister says that his nation has a vested interest in long-term stability as a direct neighbour. But it also has vested political and economic interests. It will wish to stem the refugee tide on its borders. It will surely, as any nation in its position would, be tempted by the opportunity to influence elections, whether those means of influence are legitimate or not – after all, there must be millions of citizens of Nyowani Kitara who question why Tikariot did not come to their aid as countries like Nephara and Eura did, and might therefore elect a candidate or party who would seek more distant or advantageous relations and terms with Tikariot. That would present a threat to their interests. I contend, with all this in mind, that Tikariot is not a truly neutral or bias-free party in this conflict. In fact, no nation can claim to meet that criterion.’

The Chief Negotiator, to their credit, remained completely distant and gave away no signs of wanting to cut Rutherford short. He listened attentively instead, though Rutherford could tell he was in danger of hanging on this point for too long. ‘Now, that does not mean Tikariot could not be part of a solution, but there are practical considerations as well that make the idea of it being the lead on the political solution highly dubious. The Foreign Minister proposes that his country be tasked with leading security for the first parliamentary elections in Nyowani Kitara. How will this be achieved?’ This is where Rutherford, ever the man of detail, was in his element. ‘How do they intend, to be blunt, to expect agreement to leading on security when Tikariot has stood by and allowed this conflict to escalate with no military or security intervention whatsoever, allowing the bloodshed to continue instead? They presumably did so either because they felt it wasn’t in their national interest, or because they lacked the capability, despite being ideally positioned to take action.’

‘With that in mind, how can Kitaran citizens trust them to protect their elections? Either reason suggests Tikariot, with the greatest of respect, is incapable of doing so. And why would the current President and KPWC agree to such a thing, when the only foreign powers who have actually put their money where their mouth is and defended the country’s institutions, services and infrastructure, are those that the Foreign Minister suggests shouldn’t be involved? The reality is that Nephara, and to an extent our own country, are the only foreign powers with both an established presence and a proven democratic record at home, which is the fundamental set of criteria required here. And if you disagree, then I can only conclude you must have concerns about the veracity of Euran and Nepharan domestic elections, which would be, quite frankly, ludicrous.’
Noting increasingly tense murmurs around the room, Rutherford finished off his wider point. ‘To conclude on that wider point, and with apologies to our hosts for whom I have a great deal of respect, it is simply unacceptable to the Euran government that the government of Tikariot assume responsibility for a CRC-led political solution. I understand our Nepharan counterparts are in full agreement.’ Klose, a little distance away, sagely nodded her approval.

Rutherford could tell he was about to go into more forceful language when he decided to wrap up, restraining himself, conscious that where the Kabaka had required the big stick treatment, Longobardo had earned compromise. Appropriately, he moved on to the solution. Rutherford readied his other stick – not the proverbial hitting one, but the one with a carrot on a string. ‘We offer a revision of our earlier proposal, taking into account the points raised. The core elements remain the same – a CRC committee will oversee the running of the first parliamentary elections, with an experienced member state with a presence on the ground taking the lead role. This would be the Nepharan government, who would also lead on security as the most established military power in the region, at least on land. This will be reinforced by the establishment of a Euran led reconstruction fund via the CRC, the early proposals for which are already being drafted by colleagues of mine in Bastion.’

‘However, to address any reasonable concerns over the legitimacy of the elections, part of the CRC mandate will involve a comprehensive multi-national system of election monitoring and all-access observation, open to any CRC member state that wishes to take part. By default, the observation mission would have four lead members independent of either the government of Nyowani Kitara or its primary international backers. We propose that these nations would be one “neutral”, by which we mean not backing a particular faction in the conflict, as true neutrality is a mirage, and then one state backer of each of the main factions. We propose therefore the four lead members of the observation mission would be Tikariot, Graintfjall, Yuezhou and a fourth state of President Akongo’s choice.’ Rutherford glanced at Nafuna, though not long enough to catch her reaction. He would be suggesting later that she put an olive branch out to Mytanija sharpish.

‘This system would absolutely guarantee total transparency in the elections, a role for four different regional nations affected by the crisis, and would allow for observers to challenge the mission’s mandate and strategy at the CRC, if they find the elections are not conducted fairly. And, for full clarity, neither Eura nor, to my understanding, Nephara, would stand in the way of such proceedings; while we have rightly supported the legitimate government of Nyowani Kitara, we are in no doubt that future elections must be entirely fair, and will not support the current administration if they refuse to cede power after an electoral defeat, attempt reprisals against opponents who have genuinely renounced violence, or attempt to manipulate the democratic process.’
This time, Rutherford didn’t look at Nafuna at all. If she didn’t like it then she could find someone else to pick up the tab. Suddenly, Rutherford took a very severe tone.
‘The Euran government is keen to ensure this ceasefire holds, and that negotiations are brought to a successful end in good time, with the disarming and dissolution of illegitimate armed insurgent groups. The sooner the people of Nyowani Kitara are able to face the future without worrying about the past, the better.’
Rutherford took a much-deserved breath as the Nepharans took over, and started explaining how they would run any elections. Time would tell if the tweaked proposals would be successful.

[Valanora]

"Rumor has it that Faeron Soldarian is more than just the Royal Ambassador to the VSC"

"Well brilliant observation on that one, he was also appointed the manager of the U21 side that has participated in the last two U21 World Cup tournaments. Big whoopity due and great investigation going on there, you really just proved all the rest of the media proud, bound to win the award for investigative journalism with that one aren't ya!"

"Don't be so sassy! No I mean like that Faeron has allegedly been seen going on multiple dates with the Empress for periods of time that are longer than one might expect for just the passing along of information about whatever it is he is supposed to be doing for the Empress with the VSC and at locales that make it seem that they are more than just business excursions. There are some in high society that are whispering that the two are definitely in courtship!"

"Pish posh, people go to all sorts of different places for a business exchanges, just because they are meeting at different places than one might expect does not mean that they are dating, nor does the length of their meetings. We are not privvy to whatever arrangement Faeron has with the Empress or what the full details of his role for her is or what capacity that VSC is utilizing him, well beyond what we already know in his ambassadorship and managerial duties."

"What about the comments from various serving staff within the Raynor mansion that the Empress has been mildly concerned about a potential succession crisis the same way that enabled her to take the crown back? Faeron is one of the most notable bachelors in not just Raynor City but all of the Empire, there are few who are more well off besides the obvious few and from all accounts he is one of the more pleasant of the elves to be around. Think of that political power the two would also have, the two most notable families in the capital joining themselves, definitely would be a power couple if there ever was one to form domestically."

"Perhaps but has Faeron ever really struck you as the type of person who cares about the politics of the city or the Empire itself? If, and this is a big if, there is some sort of courtship going on between the head of the Soldar house and the head of the Raynor house, it is not because they are looking to be a political union but one of true romance and love. I can not see Faeron doing anything like the former, given the tales that have been told of him, and that there would have to be actual romantic feelings for him to pursue that. So, rumor squashed, I would have to say."

"We will see I suppose."

[Commonwealth of Baker Park]

we're at the halfway point but we're going to the End of the Line

CUTOFF

[Pasarga]

Pasarga media was quick to be doomsayers when the Wanderers lost their good form with two draws in the last international weekend, after the Wanderers offensive talent was completely shut out of operation in the away trip to the Licentian Isles. While rank might not have made the trip look too difficult, the players on the team as well as historians of the game knew that the away trip was going to be one that could pose a potential challenge for even the high flying Wanderers to overcome. While it did turn out to be true, there was thought that it was to be a score draw, rather than the defensive class of the hosts being put on full display. It highlighted one of the constant worries that have plagued not just Elek Salai, but the entirety of the attacking talent for the Wanderers over the last few years, and that is their completely lack of consistency in any real shape or fashion. A bit more consistent in the venom of the attack and many of the disappointments by the national side over the last decade or so would have never came to pass, alas these are the times we live in.

That inconsistency was then brought completely to the forefront when the team was at home a short three days later and was involved in an eight goal thriller where both sides were able to find the back of the net four times. It was one of those games where when you look at the stats that you might be left flabergasted at the way that the Wanderers dominated the game but were unable to come away with the full compliment of points. Treekidistan scored on four of their five shots in the game, the fifth shot being off target from long distance, and the team really could not have done more to try and stop the attacks that they scored on with all but one coming from the sort of efforts that you are normally happy with as a manager to let the opposing team have, with those efforts from outside the box. Yet fortune smiled on the visitors on the night, with those shots finding their way to the back of the net, while the Wanderers have to conjure up twenty shots on target to get their four goals and salvage the point from the match, a point that will feel more like a defeat than an earned one.

The dropped points in both matches have the added effect of not only taking the Wanderers out of their fantastic form that they had started the qualifiers with but also out of the top spot of the group and the qualification that they will desperately be looking to secure from the group stage, rather than having to face the dangerous peril of a playoff encounter. Despite being unbeaten, the side is a point behind Poafmersia in first, who has lost once and won four times in the opening five matches of the campaign, although the two sides have yet to meet each other in the first half of the campaign. The Wanderers will need to have a deep look in the mirror as they do approach the halfway stage and try to examine where their inconsistencies arise from if they are to get the needed victory over their top of the table rivals as well as rebound into the form that had them performing like the top ten side that they are supposed to be. The road is one wrought with peril but careful navigation can see them through the peril safe and sound, if they are able to rise to that occasion.

[Zeta Reka and Hugeltaldom]

1, 2, 3, 4

1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Chapter 3, Part 1, Part 2

---

Chapter 3, Part 3
After the explosion, time had plans which went against everyone's wishes. Nikola continued to look for his comrade, but as days turned to weeks, things looked grim. Life otherwise became normal for Nikola, more usual than one would expect of an ex-cultist who’s forced to work in law enforcement via coercion. Novel news related to the hospital explosion went cold. Dozens were presumed dead, with a small number of bodies unrecovered, and other undetermined. Nikola continued to receive his pay from the government, and the addictive substance he needed for life. Other officers continued their routines as well.

Outside of the capital city, things were moving. A man was at a cafe in Porto Nowi, Zeta Reka’s largest city. The man was in a drinking with an old friend, and a specialist in forensic investigation. "Was it her?" the man in suit asked, another person caught up in August’s tragedy. The companion looked over paperwork, "no," he said, "sir, given the position-" he was cut off, "I know," the man in the suit said, "it’s for closure." The man in the suit looked down, "I thought when her amulet was returned to our family, that she’d be recovered," the man in the suit was bushing his chin, keeping everything bottled inside. He looked at a watch, "I have a meeting, thank you." The man in the suit, and the casually dressed investigator shook hands, and the man walked off.

The man in the suit was a trial lawyer in Porto Nowi named Radowan Dujić, his daughter, Mira, had been in the university hospital when it exploded. An upstanding man, Radowan had slowly risen up through the ranks of Rekan law, and today he was to meet with those who’d helped him along the way. Radowan went to a high-rise building in the heart of Porto Nowi’s business district. Radowan was to attend a bi monthly meeting of a very special group, one he’d been in for years. The group was secretive, but powerful. Radowan walked up to an opaque door, knocking. A slit opened, and Radowan simply said, "Mitosis." The door opened, and Radowan walked in. In were six others, all sitting at a table, plus two bodyguards at the door that had just been used. The room’s shades were closed, and everyone in he room knew each other. Representatives of politics and business were here. Radowan exchanged greeting with everyone in room.

"Gentlemen, we have someone with us who hasn’t been here before," Mr. Borjanić said, "The special someone is not a guest however, he is someone you all know. Thank you for being here, Mr. Fernger." Eyes in the room moved to window side of the room. A young man was there, clean shaven and in his late thirties. The young man nodded, and Borjanić spoke further, "Max Fernger has been primed on the basics of Mitosis, and our aims. His father was quite important to us. We wish he was here today, but we must welcome his heir as an equal." All of the meeting goers consulted their papers as Borjanić spoke, "Our work monitoring the properties of Nikola Denić continues. He remains on a diet of Theiasquadium infused drinks. The psychiatrist hunt continues. We are beginning to suspect fowl play in regards to Mr. Denić losing access to a second councilor this year."

The younger man sat quietly, respecting his seniors, he saw five men with him and a woman, he recognized a few of the from his descended father’s parties. The oldest man in the room spoke up, "why are we continuing to monitor him? He’s clearly deteriorating." Another man, spoke, "You say he had superpowers-" "supernatural properties" Borjanić butted into the older man’s comments, "You choose to interrupt, but you know I’m right. The man can disappear and reappear without warning. The concept is interesting, and if we can replicate his addiction, we will have more recruits. At the same time, we cannot continue to focus on hypotheticals. We've experienced multiple attacks in the last year, and the underworld continues to mount against us."

"Something is interfering with our plans." Radowan said when the older man stopped, "Importantly on a personal note they have targeted my daughter. She was in the hospital which exploded, and I have no reason to assume she is with us anymore." "We do not know for sure if malicious intent was there," Borjanić said, Radowan scoffed before continuing to speak, "In the past year, we’ve seen multiple attempts to disrupt our operations. The government would have a simple task in jailing us. Our enemy must thus exist outside the law, as we do, with connections like our own. The only change to our operations in the last year has been the monopolization of Theiasquadium production. Only a few know of the resource, even fewer in this country."

"Our suspects for sabotage are limited, I say to you," Radowan said, taking over the room, "We know of The Green Order, and while it is alive it lacks power at this moment. The last attack was possibly a bout of revenge publicly against the nation, and privately against us, by Akram Al-Baour’s loyal. You cannot simply arrest an arms dealer who’s about to gain territory. Weapons using Theiasquadium, or "Rekan Steel" were to become a new hot item in the black market all over the region," Radowan was looking mostly at Max at this point, and continued to speak "However, it wasn’t in our interests to dedicate a rare and supernatural resource to what was effectively a petty undertaking in gun smuggling. So we had Al-Baour arrested. The remains of his criminal empire in the east of our nation are hungry for revenge. Our enemies, if detected, are in need of crushing, otherwise we will later fight on too many fronts."

The room was silent for a time, the older man spoke again, breaking the science "We have law enforcement on our side," he said, "when I was a general, we had to go against ethnic terrorists in Hügeltaldom, and law enforcement was an effective tool when military action would prove unpopular. I propose we use our friends in policing to wipe out the gangs. We have enough collaborators who could cover up the situation." The room nodded in affirmation. "I am unsure of who all our enemies have been in the last year," Borjanić said, "but it is possible we have made another. We must take any preventative measures to a vote," Borjanić spoke looking around the room, before looking at Max, "We must all approve of a policy in order for Mitosis to move forward. Does anyone oppose the motion?" he asked, silence was the reply, one more question was posed to the room, "do any support the ideas laid out by The General and Mr. Dujić?"

One word was spoken in seven voices, "aye!"

[Starblaydia]

Episode 3 - The Breakthrough
S01 | E01 | E02

On home soil, the team make it to a second straight regional final
against the regional powerhouse and threepeat champions.
A future manager makes a big impression.

Ricky Torino
Striker, AOCAF Cup 4

Narrator: Since their achievement of qualifying for the Seventeenth World Cup, the Starblaydi team had begun to push on and climb the rankings both regionally and globally. Breaking into the Top Twenty nations in the world by qualifying for World Cup Eighteen, they had also reached their first major tournament Final. The first attempt, unfortunately, would end in failure, as they finished runners up in the Third AOCAF Cup Final to the regional powerhouses of NEWI Cefn Druids. When it came to the Fourth AOCAF Cup, however, that one would be hosted in Starblaydia itself.

There's absolutely nothing like the boost you get from home supporters urging you on. You're in familiar surroundings, climate, food, even the accents around you are ones you're used to hearing. Being the home side, whether in world or regional play, is a massive advantage. You only have to glance at the wide variety of sentient beings and the countries they come from to know that there are some exceptionally unforgiving places, stadiums and crowds that are the complete opposite end of the spectrum from what you're used to, and you've often travelled unknowingly vast distances to get there.

So when your nation gets to host an international tournament, you know that your team will be as settled as possible, insulated from all those weird and foreign things that just go to naturally unsettle you.

After their spell co-hosting the World Cup Committee-administered Baptism of Fire for a few editions with regional powerhouse Vilita, the SFA and the Starblaydi government decided to throw their hat into the ring for the multiverse's premier regional football tournament: the Atlantian Oceania Confederation of Association Football Cup. Whether you pronounce it Ow-Caf or Ey-Oh-Caf, it was where the young, ambitious, up-and-coming region would pit its nations against each other to decide who was the best, and invariably the answer had been: NEWI Cefn Druids.

Narrator: Hailing from the western side of the great Lake Bekk, on the continent of Calania, NEWI Cefn Druids bestrode Atlantian Oceania like a colossus. Starblaydia's neighbours from across the Bekk had won the first three editions of the tournament, beating Vilita, Crystilakere and Starblaydia in three pulsating finals. A 'threepeat' of epic proportions, the only question on everyone's mind was: could it be a 'fourpeat'?

AOCAF Cup 4 Group Stage, West Group
Pos Nation           P  W  D  L  F  A  GD  Pts
----------------------------------------------
Q+  NEWI Cefn Druids 6  6  0  0 13  2 +11  18
Q+  Turori           6  4  0  2 11  5  +6  12
E-  Nova Britannicus 6  1  1  4  5  9  -4   4
E-  Big Pimento      6  0  1  5  2 13 -12   1

AOCAF Cup 4 Group Stage, East Group
Pos Nation           P  W  D  L  F  A  GD  Pts
----------------------------------------------
Q+  Starblaydia      6  3  2  1  8  6  +2  11
Q+  Sarzonia         6  3  1  2  7  4  +3  10
E-  Crystilakere     6  2  1  3  7  6  +1   7
E-  Triagunation     5  0  4  2  4  8  -4   4

NEWI Cefn Druids started the group stage like you'd expect three-time defending champions to do. It took until Matchday Four for them to even concede a goal, and they smashed aside Turori, Nova Britannicus and Big Pimento in the double round-robin group stage. Their goal difference was simply humongous, and they were immediately odds-on favourites for the title again. No other team had managed to win all their matches, as the other group leaders Aquiliana, Starblaydia and Vilita all lost one of their group matches, with the only other undefeated team at this stage being Lamoni, who mangaged to qualify over Druida and Psytroxia in the second spot of the South group, with two wins and four draws.

With the knockouts going straight to the Quarter-Final stages, suddenly NEWI Cefn Druids looked vulnerable. Up against Pedriana, they suddenly failed to score in normal time. While Starblaydia had polished off Lamoni, Aquiliana ejected Turori and Sarzonia dumped out Vilita, the Druids were taken to Extra Time by the Llamas. Everyone, even the Pedrianan national press, had expected to be embarrassed by a 7-0 scoreline, but they had somehow taken a side ranked in the top 10 in the world to penalties.

A goal flurry in Extra Time saw 120 minutes of football end 2-2, before the champions had to rely on penalties to go through, wining by three to two. It showed that while the Druids were fallible, they were still taking this AOCAF extremely seriously.

So are the Druids taking the AOCAF too seriously? Of course not! All competitions are there to be won, and you've got to remember that anything can happen in this game. Look at Druida in the World Cup Qualifiers. No-one can afford to rest on their laurels. If you want to win, you've got to do your best.

In the Semi-Finals, a new line-up for the Druids played Aquiliana off the Park in the Iota "Big Eye" Arena in front of 85,000 fans. Young Druidish sensation Alan Belmore, son of former Druids star Trevor Belmore, lit up the game with a first half hat-trick, with Rhys Owens also contributing in 45 stunning minutes where they took Aquiliana apart. It was a very big statement to make ahead of the Final. In the other game, Starblaydia out-fought their rivals Sarzonia in a 3-2 comeback victory that saw scuffles, pushing and shoving throughout the bad-tempered match, with what was already becoming the prickliest of regional rivalries on the field.

Narrator: The Final match was set: Starblaydia would play NEWI Cefn Druids in a rematch of the previous final. The last game had finished 4-3 to the Druids, in one of the greatest games the AOCAF had ever seen. When thirty-five year old Starblaydi captain Aiden Matranga had scored surely the goal of the tournament after 67 minutes, he thought he 'd been able to give Starblaydia a chance at Extra Time. Liam Gessemschmitthaagen-Po, however, had other ideas and scored in the 89th minute to win that game for the Druids.

We'd all seen how upset Aiden Matranga was at the final whistle. Tears were streaming down his face as his teammates and coaching staff were trying to console him, but he just couldn't believe it. I'm not sure anyone could believe it; they'd played so well to get there, scored so many goals along the way with great, free-flowing football, but this powerhouse in yellow and red had just rolled over them at the last minute and snatched that dream away. It had been Starblaydia's first taste of a Final and now, here at the Jader Barbalho stadium, it was time for revenge. This time Starblaydia would play in purple, and NEWI Cefn Druids would play in white - the opposite to what the two teams had worn in the last Final.

Earlier in the day we had seen Sarzonia wrap up a convincing Three-One win in Penningworth to take the third-placed spot for the third time in four editions, but everyone was ready for the biggest game. In the crowd was the Lord-Protector, Tiberius Starblayde, ready to present the trophy, albeit behind blast-proof screens with a large complement of bodyguards in tow. The entire Starblaydi World Cup 18 squad were freshly back from their consolation victory over Druida, because in those days the AOCAF would, strangely, often be run at the same time as the World Cup, meaning it was something of a 'B' team for nations like Starblaydia.

Here we go, then, Starblaydia versus NEWI Cefn Druids for the second consectutive AOCAF final. Its a storyteller's occasion no matter who emerges triumphant tonight, though I'm sure the game of football itself will be the real winner.

The stage was set. Starblaydia had already lost the toss, this time, for who was going to wear 'Home' shirts, so they were in purple for the game, despite being at home. It's unusual to see the team play in purple at home, but nonetheless it's the patriotic colour for every Starblaydi. There was the smell of sulfur lingering in the air from the tons of purple fireworks that had been set off before the game, and the Vilitan refereeing officials got the game under way. Immediately, though, the Druids were pressing hard, pressing high, and their counter-attack was already opening Starblaydia up.

Piper, controlling it neatly at the back, rolling it back to... oh, and Law is in here early! But Thornley is out quickly to smother the ball. Tommas Piper played an awful backpass and Trevor Law was like a rat up a drainpipe getting to that loose ball, but Gavin Thornley got his hands to it first, just.

Right from the start there's this feeling in the pit of your stomach that just says "oh no", because you can see that this fantastic team are all over you from the kick-off and you absolutely know to your bones that they're going to be doing it all game, and if you don't get a grip on your own players soon, it'll be much too late to come back.

But slowly, Starblaydia manage to get into the game. They can put their foot on the ball, get a real feel for it and start to get their own game going. Suddenly they're a threat for the Druidish defence, and they're making a real game of it. There's always the threat, constantly in the background, that the champions could demonstrate exactly why they have three winners' medals to their name.

A lovely challenge by Tsarev, he's picked Posters' pocket there and releases it quickly! Jakkinho, sprinting down the pitch. He's tracked back, past McDonald, with the cross... Robertson with time! Scores! Karl Robertson with the first goal for Starblaydia! These teams have been neck-and-neck throughout this match and Karl Robertson has scored for a second, consecutive, AOCAF Final! One-Nil to the Home Team!

Absolute scenes! Starblaydia take the lead towards the end of the first half, but there's a much greater note of caution than the previous Final. Back then, after Tetsuo Naoki had scored, Trevor Law equalised just eight minutes later. This time, however, Starblaydia are a lot more experienced, more sensible, and less vulnerable to the counter attack. They just have to hold on until half time to have that crucial psychological advantage going in at the half and to start the second forty-five minutes.

There's the Half-Time whistle, and Starblaydia are One-Nil up against Three-Time Champions NEWI Cefn Druids, in the Fourth Atlantian Oceania Cup of Association Football Final. Surely the managers won't need to gee up their teams on this occasion.

As the two teams come out for the second half, you can see in the body language of the Druidish players that they have something to prove. They're down, sure, but they're not out. They're the reigning, defending champions, they're the only champions Atlantian Oceania has ever seen, and they're not going down without a fight. They change things up, and Trevor Law comes off for striker Rhys Owens, and immediately the shape of the team changes, and it's something Starblaydia struggle to contain.

Northfleet takes the ball down the wing, shrugging off the challenge of Rigoberto, knocking it forward... first time cross, and it's in! Rhys Owens at the back post! He's done the same as Robertson! Tuncastle Rovers players are running rampant here with a goal each. Both Robertson and Owens have scored in two consecutive AOCAF Finals now! No wonder the Rovers are in the Starblaydi Alpha Division! Its Starblaydia one, NEWI Cefn Druids one.

The equaliser comes, just ten minutes into the second half, a massive, massive goal. It's absolutely crucial for the direction of this game now, who can get the next goal? Which way is the momentum going to swing next and what does that mean for the rest of this match?

Evans, the Half-Druidish midfielder for Starblaydia, taking the ball inside, around Leicester. Here's the shotttt... Oh my! Where did he get that from? Geraint Evans has put Starbladyia back in the lead after just five minutes with a peach of a strike! At Hallad Reavers he could have had a Goal of the Season competition all on his own, but none of them were with his left foot! A thirty-yard wonder-goal!!

Geraint Evans, a right-sided midfielder who, when he plays for Hallad Reavers, has just this production line of big, burly centre forwards and defenders that he can ping crosses high into the box for. His placement from out wide, or from a dead-ball situation was absolutely pinpoint, he was so accurate. When you translate that into a different style of game, suddenly you have a player who can control the tempo, move the ball around at will, and place it exactly where he wants it. This second goal, though, just wow.

For the remainder of the second half, the two teams on this pitch are putting up this titanic battle, it's a rematch, and like two heavyweight boxers they're out on their feet, just taking lumps out of each other, one is trying to get the breakthrough and the other is desperately trying to hold on, knowing that if they can just keep it up a little longer then they can come through for the victory.

Desperate defence by Starblaydia, throwing ten men behind the ball, it's Po, but cleared this time by substitute Doukas, just trying to hit it as far out as he can... and there it is! Starblaydia are the Champions! NEWI Cefn Druids have been beaten for the first time in four AOCAF Finals by the new regional champions - STARBLAYDIA!

Final Score From the Jader Barbalho Stadium, Starblaydia (89,000):
_Starblaydia 2_ - _1 NEWI_Cefn_Druids_
_(Robertson '39, Evans '61)_ - _(Owens_'54)_

It's impossible to overestimate how big this moment is in the history of any team. Most teams in the multiverse don't get to lift one of the 'majors', which is any of the three WCC-endorsed tournaments in the World Cup cycle - the World Cup itself, Baptism of Fire and Cup of Harmony - and the universally-recognised 'big' regional and independent association tournaments. Here's Starblaydia winning their first, in their second final appearance in their third attempt, and at home of all places.

This isn't the game that marks the beginning of the journey; its already been twelve years since they began this long climb to the top of the world. But this is the game that marks the first piece of real success, that first hit of what being in the big time really means. Lifting a trophy is the ultimate reward for everything you've put into it, all the hard work and effort and preparation that's gone into honing your craft and being the best you can be. And nobody wants to win only one trophy.

Narrator: In the stadium, as well as in the streets and the bars, and in homes across the country, the chant had finally rang out for the first time ever from fans of the national team:

Campeones! Campeones! Olé, Olé, Olé!

[Gyatso-kai]

Nine goals allowed. Six goals scored. A single win and three losses…

Not the way we wanted to start.

Khánh Ka’lomi walked into his hotel room, having just returned from Exhibition Place in the heart of Kelssek. He had just received the word from the coaching staff that Tercar Shuajo would be sitting out the next two matches dealing with an upper body strain he got in the final minutes of the 2-nil defeat at the hands of Wreckeria.

All that work and we couldn’t even get a single goal.

It was hard for Ka’lomi to figure what was happening with the team this cycle. The same guys had gone into their last Atlantian Oceanian Cup tournament, won four straight before being taken out of the Quarterfinals on penalty kills. The same team that had not lost a single game in the last World Cup until the ninth matchday. Yet here they were, having only won a single game – 2-nil over Jeeves Land on the second matchday – and taken their place at the bottom of the group, just over the same team they had defeated. It just did not make any sense with how they had practiced, with how they had trained, with how they had prepared for this fourteen-day tournament.

This is not what we signed up for…

Nonetheless, Tercar was out, and Ka’lomi was set to have his eighth tournament appearance, and one of his earliest so far. He was only twenty-three, and in the thirty-five appearances he had, he already earned himself a worthy nickname – ‘the Beast of the South’ – and he worked hard to keep up with the ideals befitting of a “Beast”. His compatriot in nicknames, the ‘Beast of the North’ Auranaq Itawaku, had retired four campaigns ago, though Ka’lomi stayed in touch. Itawaku had found his peace in retirement, and had shown himself very little since his exit in World Cup 86.; choosing to leave both the national team and retiring from Ba Sing Se United. Ka’lomi even got to attend his retirement ceremony last year, and afterwards Itawaku invited him to the afterparty in the Upper Ring.

For a rural Southern Watertribeman, seeing the glitz and glamor of the Upper Ring was almost enough to make him want to move…

None of that matters, Ka’lomi thought as he shut the door of his hotel room. He had quite some time to kill before the call for the Kelssek match, and he honestly felt the best thing to do was to rest in the room and prepare to for his first start of the campaign. He knew that the kit awaiting him in the AWAY locker room had his name and number on the back, and he only hoped that they could at least put up a fight against The Voyagers that would perhaps inspire the team for the rest of the campaign.

No pressure…

[Ranoria]

After Winning 3 of Last 4, Ranoria Enters What Will Be The Defining Stretch of Their Qualifying Campaign

Record: 3-2-2
-Goals F/A: 8/7
Record at Home: 1-2-1
-Goals F/A: 4/4
Record on Road: 2-0-1
-Goals F/A: 4/3

The Veterans of This Team Have Been Dealing In The Latter Portion of the First Leg

Following a letdown start at 0-1-2, Ranoria's bounced back hard to get to 3-2-2. Premier striker Barry Chlorid is leading the team in scoring by a mile and has done just enough to walk out with a victory in those matches, but this team lives and dies off its back end. Whether it's Kris Reinhardt leading the defensive unit or Vincent Emilia's heroics at goalkeeper, that's the way the Krauts win their games. And of course it's impossible to discount the contributions of veteran defenders Eugene Rimold and Chris Jenkins, who have displayed incredible chemistry this World Cup due to their long shared tenure with the best team in Ranorian Soccer - the Dietrich Dirks.

Still want to credit the scoring unit with the hot streak? In the last four matches, the Krauts have surrendered just two goals, and tied in one of those games - a disappointing 1-1 draw against United Adaikes.

Need more? The team is 0-0-2 overall when allowing multiple scores, evidenced by a 3-2 defeat against Ethane and a 2-1 loss to HUElavia. When allowing one goal, we're 1-1-0, a surefire mark against the offense but with such a conservative style of play, it's understandable. If the Krauts hold their opponent to a shutout, they're 2-1-0 - unbeaten but with such a low rate of scoring they're still far from dominant in that scenario.

So What's It Gonna Take For Ranoria To Get In?

It's nice to finally be on the winning end of things - the Krauts went from 0-1-2 to a 3-2-2 mark within a four game stretch where they've really showed off their improvement over the offseason. The 0-1 victory over TJUN-ia was the upset of the bunch and by far the most important, but these next four matches will decide whether or not the team, after three mediocre runs, will have an opportunity to break through late.

First up: Darkmania. After a matchday one draw, the Krauts are tied with them at 11 points in the qualifying stages. A win there would bump us up to 5th in the group from a tie there, and give our squad some much-needed points after struggling to win games in the early going. While it may seem a tall ask to get a road win after only managing a draw at home, Ranoria has actually been better away from our crimson turf. Smith Field has emerged as a veritable fortress for the World Lacrosse Championships squad, who have surrendered just one game there. Conversely, our representatives for the World Cup have struggled, slogging their path to a 1-2-1 record there against a 2-0-1 away from Richardson. That boon may be what they need to get another win and keep this hot streak going.

Beyond them are the more imposing opponents. Ethane will travel to our own Smith Field - where we will again stress that Ranoria has struggled - after serving us with our only road loss of the season in a 3-2 shootout. They're one of only two teams to score multiple goals against the Krauts in this qualifying campaign, and consequently one of two teams to beat us. At 4-2-1 they're on track to earn a playoff spot. If Ranoria loses that game, our chances at such an opportunity will go from slim to none, stretching the difference between these two teams to a nigh-insurmountable one. Manager Mark Tillman and assistant Manlafi Sowe - who many could justifiably argue is the brains of this operation - must dig up a solution to our woes on home turf if we're going to pull off a miracle there against the 14th ranked team in the World.

If we can win those two games, things won't get much easier. HUElavia is biting at the heels of Ethane at 4-1-2, and is the only other team to beat Ranoria this season, and in similar fashion is the other team to score multiple goals. The HUElavia National Football Team is on a nice stretch of their own however, winning two straight matches including a 4-2 victory over group-leading TJUN-ia, making them the only other team to defeat the 5-0-2 Jaguars this cycle. Like us, they're on a hot streak and like Ethane, it's crucial to come away with a victory to close the gap between our team and theirs.

After that, we've got the boogeyman. TJUN-ia will be coming to Smith Field to avenge their loss earlier in the campaign. Admittedly this game is less pivotal than those against Ethane and HUElavia. While we certainly need the wins, the Jaguars have a commanding 5-0-2 record to this point and likely will win the group, making it almost impossible to pass them up.

After that, Ranoria gets into the softer patch of play: United States of Great America and United Adaikes have not won a match between the two squads and while a draw against Great Omerica was a surprise, the Krauts should be able to win their second match against the struggling team and improve their standings at the finish line.

[The 14 Stars]

Stars falling from the sky

song of this episode: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LSvOTw8UH6s

After the double loss on the last matches the mood of the group was far from good, Landry had been furious at the last one and said there will be many others willing to stand here in their places.
Starblaydia was formidable which was expected but a loss against an unranked nation can't be tolerated by a respected soccer nation like The 14 Stars itself which made the mood kinda gloomy today.

They had trained the whole day, the next matches were ones they'd need to get points from if they wanted to play any sort of a role in the upper half of the group which was more then possible.
Maximillian was probably the one most mad at himself for not being able to score a single goal, he was the striker the one who needed to provide the team with goals so they could win their matches.
When he was done with his training he was walking back to the training complex to eat and then go to sleep when he saw one of his team members still train even though it was already quite late.

Flare as second captain was responsible for his players so he walked down to see who's training so late and to his surprise he found Jill Swyndon a right winger from Greenville and second choice after Kira.
In a bit she noticed him too and stopped training for a moment as she saw him entering the field.

Flare: ''I see, doing some evening training?''

Swyndon: ''Yeah, i gotta improve if i want to be of any value to this team, at this rate we're gonna lose everything we've build up so far as a team which is something we can't let happen.''

Flare: ''You say you want to be of any value to this team, but do you really think that you don't add anything to the current team because you known really well that each and everyone of us is important.''

Swyndon: ''Thats a lie and you know it, i'll always be a second rate if i don't improve and i'm not getting any younger either.
Its not that i ain't happy for Kira that she's doing so well but......i really want my chance on the world stage aswell, i don't want to retire knowing i've never been able to play at the highest possible level.''

Flare: ''So thats it, you want to achieve the best of yourself is that right? Kira is indeed a great player but don't lose sight of your own capabilities because you do have great abilities too.''

Swyndon: ''You're just being nice, you've basically learned Kira everything you could which ofcourse turned her into an incredible player and i don't believe you when you say i can actually compete with her.''

Flare: ''I did that yes but i did not do that alone, it was Marcus who learned me everything in the first place and its very imagineable he did the same for his own daughter to become exceptional in her own right.
But that doesn't stop you from trying to get the best out of yourself and earn a spot on the starting XI right?''

Swyndon: ''i guess so?

Flare: ''Come on lets train together in that case, i'll help you reach the best of yourself.
We will stand on that field together thats a promise and i you know that i will keep any promise i'll make we have seen that often enough''

Swyndon: Her heart probably skipped a beat when she heard he'll help her, the whole team looks up to Maximillian and yet hes such a nice person to help her, she really appreciates that.
They trained for a good 3 or 4 hours before sitting down and taking a drink before going to rest in their rooms, they had trained both dribbling and her shots to become exponentially better then they were.

after training

Maximillian: ''Those were good plays, im sure you'll be playing really soon''

Swyndon: ''Ahww thanks its really sweet of you to help me so much, its really late though so we should be quite or our teammates might hear us once we go back to our rooms.''

Flare: ''Yeah true, although some of the boys snore loudly so i don't think they'll hear me except if i'd walk like an elephant....''

Swyndon: ''Wow they do? that must be really annoying''

Flare: ''Nah overtime you get used to it but any newbies like Federico did have some trouble adjusting to it at first but in the end it all worked out for us perfectly fine.''

Swyndon: ''I see also Maximillian could i ask you a question?''

Flare: ''Sure go ahead, anything can be asked.''

Swyndon: ''Would you like to do something together sometime....just like..the two of us?''

Flare: ''You mean like a date'' he had to chuckle a bit knowing how awkward it was for both of them

Swyndon: ''Yeah kinda, i did find our training today really nice and i'd like to get to know you a bit more too...you know outside the soccer world as we both know we're diffrent when we're not on the field.''

Flare: ''Sure sounds nice, it'd be nice too to not be on the field for a diffrence''

The team

Meanwhile the team prepared for matchday 8/9 where they would play the same teams but in a rematch, there was hope for them to do well but they already had done better then anyone had expected.
However there was still alot of work to do, Landry had an intense training regime and was not planning on letting anyone slack off until the match but on the other hand not overtrain themselves either which was good of him.
In the evenings Jill Swyndon and Maximillain Flare kept doing their secret training sessions and they eventually grew to be quite good friends even if their age diffrence is quite a bit they still were a very good team to see training.
Finally this also paid off for Jill Swyndon as it was announced she would make her debut very soon, not even as a sub but in the starting XI for the Starsian team that would play the next matches.

Line-up Matchday 8

GK - Princeton
LB - Yale
CB - White
CB - Moon
RB - Salisbury
LM - Diam
CM - Valerian
RM - Swyndon
LW - Redwood
ST - Flare
RW - Blade

Line-up Matchday 9

GK - Princeton
LB - Yale
CB - White
CB - Moon
RB - Salisbury
LM - Diam
CM - Valerian
RM - Ray
LW - Swyndon
ST - Flare
RW - Blade

[Squidroidia]

What if World Cup 90 qualifying ended today?
Halfway into qualification, the field would be different if we cut off now
By Shotclocking Supersquid

If the main qualification for World Cup 90 ended right now, perhaps via some insane despair-loving teenager setting foot an attack on the multiverse that would lead to the World Cup not happening in earnest if qualification were to continue as is, what would the field look like? Who would join Vilita and Baker Park for one last ride before everything was gone? Which teams have performed well enough at the halfway mark to warrant a berth in the field of 32 if everything just... Stopped? Which teams would be sent home in shock, which teams would make the show that normally wouldn't make it otherwise? This is how it would shape out.

World Cup qualification this cycle is made up of 20 groups of 8, and, as usual, they are double round robin. Cutting qualification off at the halfway mark would mean, obviously, some teams would have played more home games than away games and for the others it's vice versa. At the same time, however, the teams who would make it in automatically would have done so in style - For example, Drawkland would have clinched World Cup qualification with a shock 3-0 win away from home in Turori, marking their first qualification since when they hosted World Cup 86. Same for the Squidroidia Inklings - A 1-0 win against Kohnhead would see them return to the World Cup and possibly make the trip back to Vilita for the first time since knocking out the Jungle Cats.

The teams that would automatically qualify if qualification as is ended today are, with their pre-90 qualification KPB rank number, are:

The Holy Empire (1)
Audioslavia (3)
Valanora (4)
Nephara (5)
Ko-oren (6)
Pasarga (8)
Farfadillis (9)
Kandorith (12)
South Newlandia (18)
Squidroidia (20)
Brenecia (25)
Tumbra (30)
Sargossa (46)
TJUN-ia (48)
Drawkland (50)
Astograth (58)
Juvencus (63)
Polkopia (66)
Le Choix (71)
Ochre Islands (144)

With this, Ochre Islands, Le Choix and TJUN-ia would qualify for the World Cup for the first time in their histories. As for the Playoffs, where every 2nd place team would compete, some heavy hitters would be fighting for those final 10 spots. Here they are, ranked not by KPB rankings, but by their position as the best 2nd place teams.

* Playoffs                        Pld    W   D   L    GF   GA   GD   Pts 
2 Turori                            7    6   0   1    21    8  +13    18
2 Graintfjall                       7    6   0   1    18   10   +8    18
2 Zwangzug                          7    5   2   0    10    3   +7    17
2 Vdara                             7    5   2   0    16   11   +5    17
2 Banija                            7    5   1   1    17    8   +9    16
2 Valladares                        7    5   1   1    17    8   +9    16
2 Squornshelan Remnant States       7    5   1   1    12    8   +4    16
2 Pemecutan                         7    5   0   2    17    3  +14    15
2 Cassadaigua                       7    4   3   0    16    9   +7    15
2 Adab                              7    5   0   2    18   13   +5    15
----------
2 Huayramarca                       7    5   0   2     9    4   +5    15
2 Poafmersia                        7    5   0   2    19   16   +3    15
2 Chromatika                        7    4   2   1    22   17   +5    14
2 Abanhfleft                        7    4   2   1    20   15   +5    14
2 Ethane                            7    4   2   1    12    8   +4    14
2 Independent Athletes from Quebec  7    4   2   1    16   15   +1    14
2 Kohnhead                          7    4   1   2    15    9   +6    13
2 Mytanija                          7    3   3   1    21   14   +7    12
2 Mercedini                         7    3   2   2    15   12   +3    11
2 Wreckeria                         7    3   2   2    18   16   +2    11

As a result, the playoff fixtures would be:

Turori v Wreckeria
Græntfjall v Mercedini
Zwangzug v Mytanija
Vdara v Kohnhead
Banija v IA Quebec
Valladares v Ethane
Squornshelan Remnant States v Abanhfleft
Pemecutan v Chromatika
Cassadaigua v Poafmersia
Adab v Huayamarca

Assuming that this crazy despair obsessed teenager would be able to take over the multiverse before the World Cup Final if we went with 2 legs, all of these ties would be single-legged fixtures at the first team mentioned for each fixture. Turori would host their game against Wreckeria, Græntfjall would do the same against Mercedini, and so on and so forth. Since I didn't feel like simulating these matches the traditional way, I'll use the flip of a coin. 1 heads for the home side means they win the tie, 2 straight tails for the away side means they win the tie. With that, the results of the playoff fixtures are:

Turori v Wreckeria
Græntfjall v Mercedini
Zwangzug v Mytanija
Vdara v Kohnhead
Banija v IA Quebec
Valladares v Ethane
Squornshelan Remnant States v Abanhfleft
Pemecutan v Chromatika
Cassadaigua v Poafmersia
Adab v Huayamarca

As a result, Turori, who just 2 cycles ago won the World Cup, would miss out on the final ever World Cup (Hope-loving teenager pending) to Wreckeria, joining Banija (Having failed to qualify for the 2nd straight time), Savojarna, Eura, fecking Metherwol, Tikariot, Squornshelan Remnant States, Siovanija and Teusland, reigning Cup of Harmony champions Trolleborg, Kelssek, Reçueçn, Jeruselem, Darmen, and, yes, STARBLAYDIA, in the final Cup of Harmony presumably hosted as a straight knockout competition in Turori or Acceptably Normal. Thanks for 300 years.

And with all of that, may I present to you the pots for this imaginary final World Cup:

Pot 1
Vilita (Host)
Baker Park (Host)
The Holy Empire (1)
Audioslavia (3)
Valanora (4)
Nephara (5)
Ko-oren (6)
Cassadaigua (7)

Pot 2
Pasarga (8)
Farfadillis (9)
Kandorith (12)
Græntfjall (13)
Ethane (14)
South Newlandia (18)
Squidroidia (20)
Pemecutan (22)

Pot 3
Brenecia (25)
Zwangzug (29)
Tumbra (30)
Vdara (31)
IA Quebec (33)
Sargossa (46)
TJUN-ia (48)
Drawkland (50)

Pot 4
Astograth (58)
Juvencus (63)
Polkopia (66)
Abanhfleft (69)
Le Choix (71)
Adab (74)
Ochre Islands (144)
Wreckeria (247)

Enjoy the final ever World Cup, guys.

[Tumbra]

Tumbra 4-0 South Covello

TMB (4-2-3-1): 1 - John Lennon; 2 - Ryan Hughes, 14 - Stephen Kerr (32 - Ben Morgan, 59'), 4 - Ian Ashburn, 35 - ​Neil Crozier; 15 - Trudy Harrison, 16 - Alan Morgan (6 - Vincent Hicks, 75'), 10 - Phil Cole; 30 - Valerie Wells, 9 - Robin Vaughn (21 - Lynne Crossley, 70'); 22 - Nigel Erskine

Scorers: Robin Vaughn (8'), Nigel Erskine (35'), Neil Crozier (62'), Valerie Wells (90+2')

Player of the Match: Nigel Erskine (TMB)

---

Quakmybush 0-6 Tumbra

TMB (4-2-3-1): 1 - John Lennon; 18 - Neal Diamond, 14 - Stephen Kerr, 4 - Ian Ashburn (36 - Albert Legget, 77'), 3 - Nigel Harris; 15 - Trudy Harrison, 28 - David Burnet (6 - Vincent Hicks, 60'), 10 - Phil Cole; 30 - Valerie Wells, 9 - Robin Vaughn; 22 - Nigel Erskine (33 - Bruce Nolan, 77')

Scorers: Valerie Wells (14', 21'), Nigel Erskine (33'), Phil Cole (61', 72', 84')

Player of the Match: Phil Cole (TMB)

Link to arc home
defender meets midfielder: season 5, part 5
what spring is like

Barely a week had passed since Raul had given him the stern talking-to about dating Trudy, and already Raul had approached him after their next game against Lanar, telling him that he was wrong. About Antonio. Not about the rest of what he said, though he seemed rather sheepish throughout their entire encounter. She'd apparently retired on her own accord, not because she'd gotten pregnant. Or something. Either way, the encounter had confused Stephen greatly, though Kattie had basically already told him the full story. Tania Vincent, the goalkeeper, did look noticeably more smug over the next few days afterwards, and had told Stephen to not worry about Raul. Whatever that meant. The feelings didn't go away, though.

Not in the least because it'd thrown him back into self-doubt over whether he was ever going to come clean to Trudy about his feelings. Every night he'd try and psych himself up for it, and plan meticulously how exactly he'd do it — over breakfast, or during a walk in the park, or on a midnight drive — and he'd share the details with Nigel, who'd enthusiastically approve of everything. But when the time came to actually do it, and tell Trudy exactly how he felt about her, he faltered. He lost his nerve. Not just because he was scared — yes, he was scared, and had to take fifteen minutes to recover from the sudden increase in his heart rate the first time he tried — but because Raul's words had launched fresh doubts over how the team would take it if he and Trudy started dating. He suddenly wasn't sure how the team would respond to their new dynamic, if it happened, and asking anyone who might be privy to this information would be dropping a few too many hints on how he felt about Trudy; and that would set off a whole new set of alarm bells.

The heat of summer (well, hot for Chromatik standards, anyway) gave way to the red-and-orange hues of autumn. And while he could feel their relationship healing — there were smiles and laughter around the house again, replacing the frigid silence — he still didn't know how Trudy would take it if he just...confessed. Would she be the one, this time, to pull out the "professionals and team-mates excuse"? She certainly didn't seem to be giving any hints, though he had noticed she was looking at him somewhat differently these days. She'd become more...touchy, certainly; a bit more physical contact, be it adjusting his hair when they were going out to training, whacking him in jest when they were watching comedies, or whatever.

Either way, the team were heading into mid-season strong, though their form had faltered somewhat. A loss to the once-mighty Tihon had made them stumble, and that one loss was quickly followed up by another defeat to Urrheddiao, of all teams — Tania having somewhat of a nightmare as Stephen watched from the bench — but they'd rallied against Tor, even if their defence was still leaking many, many goals. Stephen began feeling a bit of the pressure, and was getting angrier with himself with every goal he was giving up; Trudy tried her best, at home, to try and make Stephen feel better, but to no avail. Not even the present of a slice of lemon cake on his 21st birthday could do anything for him; he'd gone to bed early that night, and when Trudy woke up the next morning she found him working out early in the morning, music piped into his ears, an angry look on his face.

Not that it would help. In a key match against Myana, Stephen faltered once again when trying to go in for a tackle on the seemingly forever-17 Nadya Dostoevich, and it cost him; Nadya would score, and Stephen's confidence was shot. He was pulled off before the hour mark, and could barely look Jannick in the eye when he trudged back to the benches, even though Jannick had put a comforting arm on his shoulder as he went off.

A 3-1 victory against Anomalies would round off the first half of the season, and even though Stephen was disappointed at the clean sheet disappearing — a Nigel kick to Lainey Wandsworth, where he again had hesitated in going for the tackle — a win over their biggest rivals was always comforting. And as the season decamped for its winter break — the first crystals of snow had begun falling one morning, much to Stephen's abject surprise — they were top of the table, but only just. Well, it was four points, but Chromatik couldn't afford to be playing with fire at this stage.

Christmas came, Christmas went; Stephen had bought a plush bear for Trudy, while Trudy bought some wine for Stephen (she didn't know what to get for him), and the season restarted. But despite a clean sheet against Omnio to start off the second half of the season, the heavens opened with goals against Ming — where they won by one but conceded five goals — against Brisara, scoring an eye-watering eight but conceding an equally eye-watering four — then another four against Crossroads, this time ending up on the losing side, and another four against Lhor.

The snow would clear, and the greens of spring would break through, but the defence still felt hopeless. Each time Stephen gave up a clean sheet he got more and more angry, and Trudy felt more and more hopeless in trying to help him. All questions of love had been definitively pushed to the back of his mind. There was no time for that; he had to stop Chromatik from conceding so many goals, and he had to stop the relentless criticism of the Chromatik defence that had been coming from...pretty much all corners. There was only one way out, and it was to work hard. And harder. And harder.

---

Chromia

"I'm too tired to cook. We'll just have to order in again. Ugh," Stephen murmured as he sat down at the dinner table, forearms glistening with sweat after finishing yet another workout.

"Don't you think you've been doing this a bit too often, Stephen...?"

"What, not cooking?"

"Sure. And the fact that you're working yourself too hard."

"It's not too hard if it's going to save our season."

"You're not going to be able to singlehandedly save our season, Stephen," a lump forming in her throat as she tried to get him to see reason. "Maybe it's the tactics, or it's just pure dumb luck, or-or-"

"I wish I could say the same."

"You can't shoulder the team's worries on your shoulders, Stephen. It's not healthy. For you. Or the club."

"Look. Every time I turn on the TV to Red League coverage and they're analysing the games they're going Stephen this, Stephen that, he could do better, he should commit, he should've made this run, whatever. All they're talking about — all they care about — is what I could be doing. Never anyone else. I've got to get better, and the only thing I can do is, well..." Stephen motioned to the workout area in the living room he'd installed. "After dinner I've got to get back to it."

"You're hurting yourself. You're hurting me, Stephen. I'm worried for you. You might get injured—"

"I won't."

"I don't know. Look, does it matter if you miss out one training session? Look at me, Stephen, and tell me the answer. We both know the answer is no. Let's do something tonight, please. Something that's not...that." Stephen looked up from the countertop, into Trudy's eyes; who seemed to convey a whole emotion on their own. But it was the same — pleading, telling him to stop overworking his already exhausted body.

"Fine," he grunted. "What do you wanna do? Teach you to cook again?"

"I was thinking...a movie. Something that wasn't TV."

"I'll pick," a hint of a smile returning to his face, something Trudy hadn't seen in a long time. "The one you picked last time was really boring."

---

"What's this one?"

"What Spring Is Like."

"Just need to look round, really," Trudy said, giggling at her own joke. "Spring this year's cold, though."

"Yeah."

"What's it about?"

"It's...I'm not sure how to describe it. The TubeFlix description says it all, really. Chose it because it seemed easy to follow."

"If you say so..."

The two of them sank onto the sofa, ready to watch the movie; and in the darkness they watched the scenes flick by. It was an easy film to follow; the two protagonists had a meet cute in a faraway, wintry country. The boy had never seen spring before, and he was sickly, and the girl had to return to her home country. They kept in touch, but it was difficult...

God, it's cold. I wonder if he'll notice if I...scooch...over...

Her heart was beating in her chest like a steel drum, mortified at the show of intimacy that she was about to exhibit; and she had no idea whether he would push her away, like he did so long ago. There was no harm in trying. If she was going to get him to try and tell her his true feelings towards her, she had to be more forward with him, less ambiguous.

"You cold?" Stephen whispered.

"Yeah," Trudy whispered back. Stephen put a warm arm around Trudy, while Trudy made herself comfortable, her head resting on Stephen's chest.

God, why'd she have to put her head there? I wonder if she'll notice how hard my heart's beating right now. Why is my heart beating so quickly, anyway?

"You're too sick to make the journey, Jacob..."
"I don't care, Christine. I've nearly lost you. I don't want to lose you again..."
"I'm not. I won't. I won't leave you behind."

Should I press it? Why not. Fuck it. His heart's beating so hard. I've waited long enough. Four years.

Trudy moved her head slightly, taking her focus off the screen, and looking up at Stephen.

"Would you do the same for me?" she whispered.

"Of course," he whispered back. "I'm not losing you."

"But then why, why did you run away all the way back then?"

Stephen froze. He'd moved one hand of his to Trudy's mane of hair and had begun stroking her head, but the sudden line of questioning caused his hand to stop, trying to compute what exactly was going on right now. Stuttering to find the right words, he eventually choked out a response.

"I didn't want...to lose you."

"We came so close to losing each other, Stephen."

"That...that we did." The hair-stroking recommenced, but slower. None of their attention was focused on the film, now. Their whole world, their entire life, had been leading up to this one moment.

The only question was who was going to bend first.

What's she getting at? Asking me that question out of the blue.

WHY is he so STUPID I'm LITERALLY DROPPING HINTS FOR HIM RIGHT NOW

"But why?"

"I was scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Scared I'd lose you."

"But why would I go? You never did anything wrong."

Oh no. Oh, no, no, no.
She's trying to get me to confess, isn't she? But what—what if she doesn't feel the same way towards me?

FUCKING SAY THE WORDS AND I'M YOURS, ASSHOLE

Yeah, I'm not saying the words until she says them. The game's on.

"Jacob, I'll be with you. Always. To the ends of the Earth."
"Christine...I..."

"Would you stay with me? Always?"

Oh, no, no, no. I'm supposed to be the one in control here. I'm going to have to play along. But I'm going to come out on top.

"Yeah." Trudy reached out to grab Stephen's other hand, and squeezed it.

"I know. I've always known, Jacob, I've always known. And..."
"Y...yeah?"
"I've always wanted to say this, Jacob..."

"What are we, really?"

"We're good friends."

"Just good friends? Nothing more, nothing less?"

"I don't know about anything more, Stephen...What about you? What are we? In this one moment in time, where it's just the two of us, what are we to each other, really?"

"How will I know, unless you tell me?"

"But you should have an answer ready..."

"And if you don't feel the same way?"

"Then we move on. Together. You really think it'll change anything? Because it won't. Not for me. Not anymore. You're Stephen Kerr, the defender extraordinaire, winner of the Di Bradini Cup, Under-18 World Cup, and who knows what else in the future, really? The possibilities are endless. Olympics, Eagle's Cup, Campionato...maybe one day, even..."

"Shh...don't jinx it," Stephen said, putting a finger on her lips. "So what are we? To you. You tell me and I'll tell you."

"I don't know what we are, Stephen. We've been through so much together. Ups, downs, ups again. You said you were scared, Stephen. Scared of losing me. Were you afraid you'd lose me if I didn't like you back?"

HOW DOES SHE KNOW

"I put the team and our careers ahead of...what I felt, Trudy. I was scared I'd lose you."

"So you did like me."

"Well...after all we'd gone through..."

"And now?"

"I...I don't know, Trudy."

"Not even in the deepest bits of your mind? I know how I feel. What about you?"

"If you're so certain, why don't you tell me?"

Ugh. This has gone on for long enough.

"Well, I'm not afraid to say it..."

Tumbran Squad for vs Adab and vs Starblaydia, World Cup 90 Qualifying

Goalkeepers: 1 - John Lennon [Lakewood City], 12 - Nick Barker [FC Inter Nantwich], 13 - Frank Johnson [Abingdon Celtic, TLI]
Defenders: 2 - Ryan Hughes [Lakewood City], 3 - Nigel Harris [Lakewood United], 4 - Harry Henderson [Aleiuisia Capital, ZRH], 5 - Ian Ashburn [Lakewood City], 14 - Stephen Kerr [Chromatik, CMT], 20 - Douglas Moore [Lakewood United] 25 - Neal Diamond [Lanar, CMT], 27 - Mike Sheppard [Kingston FC, QUE]
Midfielders: 6 - Vincent Hicks [FK Metropola Borograd, STL], 8 - Craig McGrath [Serrapince FC], 10 - Phil Cole [Osarese Marcadia], 15 - Trudy Harrison [Chromatik, CMT], 23 - Andrew Fisher [FC Inter Nantwich], 38 - Leo Hooper [Myana, CMT]
Wingers: 7 - George Hilton [Serrapince FC], 9 - Robin Vaughn [Lakewood City], 21 - Lynne Crossley [Strathcona Internationals, KSK], 30 - Valerie Wells [Swanguard Athletic, QUE]
Strikers: 11 - Nick Riordan [Serrapince FC], 22 - Nigel Erskine [Anomalies, CMT]

[Ochre Islands]

'Afternoon folks, this is the Captain speaking, we'll shortly be making our final approach into Camaron. Some good news for you all to report, the weather is sunny with a few clouds in the sky and warm temperatues, and thanks to the Ochre Islands finalising AORTA, which Cobrio has signed up to, passport control should be significantly easier. '

The descent and landing in Camaron's international airport was standard enough for Alexandra not to think much of, and passport control wasn't much different for her either, flying in on a passport issued by Osarius for the ease of it, rather than anything else, though she noted the Ochre passengers were having an even easier time of it than they usually did here.

She hadn't visited her mother's homeland in such a long time, yet everything still felt familiar from the stories she'd heard, and vague decade-old memories. It was easy enough finding the train station at the airport and whilst the relevant train itself was a little more difficult, it wasn't panic inducing by any means. The train journey wasn't much to talk about either though Alexandra made notes on what she saw, not knowing when she would be back. The train largely passed by fields, one or two villages and the odd military barracks here and there where it looked like forested areas had once been.

Within an hour, she'd arrived in Odikolo. Nne Nne had moved there to from Ajamilu, where the maternal line had had strong roots, a long while ago, when Ajamilu had started industrialising a little more, with Nne Nne deciding she would prefer to remain a farmer like her ancestors had done. The land was fertile and split up enough into plots which were manageable enough for older bodies to still farm the land well. Alexandra noticed when she left the train station that despite the 'farming community' vibe that Ajamilu is known for, the buildings were grander than people would have expected, thanks to the wealth of the merchants who had been selling Odikolo's quality produce for hundreds of years now.

Nne Nne didn't live far from the train station, so armed with a map and more vague memories Alexandra set off on her way, memories flooding back. There was the grand central market and next to that the docks on the Mfuenge River where fruits and vegetables had been sailed up and down for centuries, the old corner shop where the town centre met the suburbs, the friendly faces who knew one of their own when they saw her. The streets got more and more familiar, considering she had ran around them so much as a little girl visiting her family. Her and her Bostopian Dad stood out a little in the crowd, of course, but nobody ever mentioned it or made anyone feel unwelcome. It had always been embarressing for Dad how well they were treated considering what the Bostopians had always said about foreign people and how much everyone had believed it. That he fell in love with a woman from Osarius let alone married one wasn't so much as scandalous as practically treason back in his homeland. Nne Nne had always only been happy that her daughter had found love and that love had produced another soul for her to love as well.

Nne Nne was pacing the floors in the front room of her house, being warned she'd be putting a hole in the floorboards before long but it didn't make a difference. She felt a feeling in her soul, one that was familiar to her and yet stronger and maturer than she had ever known it before. That feeling was getting stronger and to the surprise of everyone else in the room, Nne Nne flew out the front door so unexpectedly and quicker than she had in years. Nne Nne knew what she was doing. She practically flew past the other houses and small holdings in the street and turned the corner of the road just as Alexandra came around the corner at the other end.

Alexandra, of course, had felt something in her soul too, something warm, and loving and kind, and then there came Nne Nne running around the corner. Alexandra's bags hit the floor and she ran toward the source of all of that something.