Netherworld: Chapter 5 Title: Netherworld Fandom: Galactik Football Characters: Rocket, Sinedd, Tia, D'Jok, Warren Rating: PG Summary: Sinedd plays in the All Stars. Rocket watches. Neither of them like the way the match unfolds (winning isn’t enough, you have to win with the right people on your side). Pre-slash, Rocket x Sinedd, Rocket x Tia, D’Jok x Mei referenced.
Netherworld: All Star Syndrome
“I know that you all know each other. But I also know that you are not used to playing as a team. I’ve coached a few of you before. D’Jok, Sinedd, but I know you all by your talent. You’re all great players. It’s an honor for me to be coaching you. But tonight, if you don’t play together, the Technodroids have a good chance of beating you. Don’t let that happen! Play as a team.”
Even as Aarch spoke, Sinedd kept on looking over at D’Jok. It was too tempting to tell D’Jok, “I know where your real captain is”. It would be too much fun to watch his anger throw him off his game for the match; then Sinedd could shine without having to worry about D’Jok stealing his spotlight.
He tuned Aarch out. If he wanted to hear praise and reprimands doled out as a method of team control, he’d have stayed with the Snow Kids. Then a phrase caught his attention, making it hard for Sinedd to not laugh.
“Have fun, and don’t get hurt.”
The very opposite of Netherball. No wonder Rocket had chosen to leave his loser coach behind.
Aarch finished with the instruction, “Show the crowd just how great you are.”
Everyone except Sinedd cheered. Sinedd kept his hands at his sides and waited for the match to begin.
Rocket’d be watching him play; Sinedd was going to play his hardest, not for Aarch, but for Rocket, so that Rocket would know what he’d face in the Sphere that night.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
As they floated down towards the pitch in an oversized liferaft, Sinedd punched the air just like the other players. His eyes scanned the crowd for any familiar faces. He wanted to see if Artegor was there; he knew Rocket wouldn’t be, not for this match.
The dance of the robots wasn’t particularly impressive; Sinedd was just glad that he wasn’t expected to take part in a dance-off against them. Practicing the moves for the Shadows dance was embarrassing enough. He refused to do any sort of group dance with D’Jok, unless it gave him the chance to accidentally kick D’Jok in the crotch – the redhead was just so irritating. Loud and spontaneous and arrogant. What sort of idiot would replace Rocket with D’Jok?
Sinedd’s faith in Aarch’s coaching skills, never very high, had dropped to practically below zero at hearing about that particular decision of Aarch’s.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sinedd felt as if he had a shadow in D’Jok. A shadow that wasn’t leaving him alone, running right behind him as Sinedd dribbled towards the goal – and then got the ball stolen from him.
“Nice teamwork, Sinedd!” D’Jok said, and Sinedd turned to glare at him, dark blue eyes narrowed. Idiot. So Sinedd had messed up. So what? He’d make it right.
…Then D’Jok scored a goal, and Sinedd hissed low through his teeth.
Fine. The next goal would be his.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
In a crowd of other Galactik Football fans, Rocket stood and watched the match. He wore his new green-yellow-white costume, hair still bound back. Sinedd had offered him a ticket to today’s match, but he’d declined. He didn’t want any distractions like gratitude getting in the way of the Netherball match.
“Way to go, D’Jok.” Rocket’s smile was more for the fact that he knew Sinedd would be furious than because he was proud of D’Jok. An angry Sinedd would be one who was too eager to prove himself in the Sphere; Sinedd would make mistakes.
Rocket was ready to take advantage of them.
“Hey! You’re Rocket, aren’t you?” A fan recognized him, greeting him by name and making Rocket’s eyes widen slightly as the man continued, “Man, you’re the best! You’re like, supernatural!”
He clasped his hands together, a worshipful look on his face.
So different from the screaming, second-degree pride of the Netherball fanatics.
Flatly, expertly, Rocket lied. “You’ve got the wrong guy.”
He turned and walked away, not giving the man the chance to dispute it. There were other screens up everywhere in Genesis. He could watch the match in peace elsewhere.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Sinedd! Pass it to D’Jok! He’s got a clear shot!” Aarch said.
Sinedd might’ve listened. Might’ve. But it felt less like Aarch was interested in the team winning and more interested in his pet player looking good.
Then one of the robots fouled him and the question became moot.
Sinedd hit the ground, protesting, “Hey!” at the fact that no foul was called, and Aarch continued to bark in his ear, “Do you hear me, Sinedd?!”
Sinedd might’ve pointed out that he couldn’t hear anything except his own bones going ‘ouch’, but stayed down instead to give himself a few seconds to recover. He had to make sure he was in shape for the Sphere!
When he got his breath back, he snapped, “Back off, Aarch. You’re not my coach anymore!”
Not that Artegor was all that much of an improvement, but at least he didn’t pretend to care.
“You’re right, Sinedd. No player of mine would play so poorly against a bunch of robots!” Aarch said.
Slowly, Sinedd made himself stand up, ignoring D’Jok’s offered hand.
Only further annoyed by that display of Sinedd’s arrogance, D’Jok asked outright, “Hey! You want us to lose or what? We’re in the same team here! We’re not opponents.”
Worse than D’Jok and Aarch was the silent disapproval of Warren as he walked by. Sinedd felt it like a weight bowing his shoulders inwards, making him want to crumple up with his arms over his head to protect himself from attacks.
He stood straight instead, and waited until Warren had passed.
Aarch and D’Jok, he knew. They were Snow Kids, a term which was synonymous with ‘idiots’ where Sinedd was concerned. They’d pretend to care about you as long as you were their ticket to victory, build up your faith in them – and then tear you down as soon as you failed to live up to their standards. At least Artegor was consistently harsh. Sinedd dealt better with people who were predictable than people who were fake.
But Warren? Warren was a football legend in his own lifetime.
Warren’s disapproval stung.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It only got worse during half-time when Warren took it upon himself to publicly humiliate Sinedd. “Listen to me, all of you, and especially you, Sinedd. We’re not going to be outplayd by these robots, are we? We can’t let that happen again. Understand, Sinedd? No more mistakes. You settle your scores off the pitch. Is that clear?”
Everyone was staring at him. Sinedd nodded unwillingly, a scowl marring his face.
“Prove to me you deserve to be on this team.” Though the statement was directed at Sinedd, Warren softened it by adding, “All of you. We’re the All-Stars.”
Sinedd wasn’t going to forgive Warren for that, anymore than he’d forgive Aarch for standing by and allowing it to happen.
He consoled himself with the thought that Netherball had no coaches or teammates. And he’d be in the Sphere after this match. All he had to do was hold on.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A breakaway towards the goal (it was strange to be kicking a b all with their faces on it) and Sinedd passed to D’Jok. He was cooperating only because he knew that Netherball awaited him afterwards.
His second pass to D’Jok earned him Aarch’s praise. “Good work, Sinedd! I knew you had it in you!”
As if Sinedd cared about that even a little.
Only Netherball mattered now. He’d rather hear the crowds cheering for him than any amount of idiocy from Aarch.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Robots stay home and vaccum, that’s what they do best.” Kernor’s laughter sounded grating to Sinedd. He wondered if she was aware of the irony of her statement, considering that the metal-covered Rykers had always looked rather robotic to him.
It didn’t matter. The rest of the All Stars were clustered together, drinking celebratory toasts and enjoying their victory. Sinedd hadn’t scored any goals. It didn’t feel like his victory at all.
His victory was still to come (in the Sphere, against Rocket).
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Great pass, Sinedd! Thanks!” D’Jok’s friendly, cheerful voice was even more annoying than Kernor’s laughter, to Sinedd’s ears. But of course D’Jok would come to talk to him now. Sinedd had helped D’Jok look like the hero of the match with the goals that D’Jok had scored.
Ignoring him, Sinedd bent down to pick up the bag with his uniform in it, making D’Jok put both his hands on his hips, arching an eyebrow as he asked, “Aren’t you hanging out with us?”
“I’ve better things to do.” The only reason that Sinedd’s response was comparatively mild was that he didn’t want to waste time trading insults with D’Jok. A more interesting past time awaited him.
“Okay, suit yourself!” D’Jok called after him.
Sinedd rolled his eyes. As if he needed D’Jok’s permission?
Under his breath, watching Sinedd leave, D’Jok muttered to himself, “Is he stuck-up or what?” He’d tried to be friendly! It was an honest attempt to reach out to his ex-teammate. Why was Sinedd rebuffing him? Or rather, the entire team? Did Sinedd just not understand the concept of human interaction?
If Sinedd could’ve heard D’Jok’s thoughts, he would’ve laughed in the boy’s face.
All the interaction he got came straight from the Sphere, which was exactly where he was heading now – to the Sphere, and to Rocket.