Ah, the twins at it again Who: Wes Barton and Ryan Barton When: Right before the hockey game and before Wong's note Where: Locker room What: a little trash talk/gossip talk between the captains before the game (mentions of Janis, Dave, Magnar, Evelyn, Dane, Heath, Noah and Clint here)
"You hid my sneaker didn't you?" Ryan was sitting on the edge of the bench, holding one of his sneakers in his hand, the sneaker with the red laces run through it. His lucky red laces, thank you very much. He had on shorts that reached to his knee, and a black T-Shirt, and on his head, completing the red and black theme was a Boston Red Sox baseball cap.
Yes, it was hot, and yes he was wearing a lot of black, and planning on going out and running around the roof of a building. Oh well. He'd live.
He was addressing Wes at the moment, with a scowl on his face, and looking like he might toss the sneaker he did have, at Wes.
Wes looked from behind his locker, where he grabbed his own shoe. "A: Who the hell calls them 'sneakers' anymore and B: How boring his that? Come on, bro, give me a little credit."
Wes himself was wearing his Boston Bruin Jersey. yes, this would so be chucked after that heat hit him and he tired of animating a fan on him, but the boy had to represent.
"I mean, you act as if you have an advantage or something."
"I call them sneakers." Ryan said a tad defensively, as he placed the shoe he was holding down, and began the hunt. "What do you call them, trainers?" He had heard Sarah call her sneakers that once. "Footwear? What?" He moved to his own locker and began to rumage around in it, before stopping, and pulling away to look at Wes.
"I DO have an advantage. I can play better than you."
And it starts.
Wes sputters... well, it was more like a scoff. "Shee-yeah... That would be why the Bruins went to finals three seasons in a row."
The teams emulated the pros. Wes, by pure luck of the draw which he goaded Ry with constantly, got the Bruins.
"The Real Bruins Wes. I don't see you out there on the ice with them, helping them to the finals." Ryan went back to rooting in his locker, and pulled out his other sneaker and grinned. Moving back o the bench, he began to lace up his shoe. Absently, and in a completely friendly tone he asked; "We got a ref for the game?"
"Hey, my Bruins too. We beat your sad little Maple Leafs." Wes almost danced a bit as he laughed, but maybe it was the song in his head. "I got Heath." He threw a smirk. "If he gets beamed with a puck, he'll heal. It was that or Sarah, but she's playing. Go figure."
Ryan paused in the lacing up of his sneakers, looking thoughtful. Yes, he was for a second considering if he could maybe bribe Heath or something. Giving his head a shake, he went back to lacing up his sneakers. "Good call on the ref." Than with a smirk he looked over at his brother; "So what, Evelyn coming out to be your cheerleader?"
And those laces started doing something familiar... Soon enough, Ryan's shoes were tied in a knot so tight and so together that even he would have difficulty. "I've been practicing." He smirked.
"Hey... I did nothing to promote that." Wes held up his hands in innocence. "But, hey, if it's working without me trying, more power to me." Usually, his flirting had targets, like May or Janis... or some nice legs. "I just hope I'm not going to get pummeled by a big green guy if I push it."
Ryan looked down at his shoes, and then over and Wes, and said something not very nice about his twin. Than he set to work trying to undo the knots that his laces were now in, continuing to heap verbal abuse on his twin. He took time out of that though, to look up and shake his head sadly. "No, you'll just get pummeled by a big orange guy."
Or possibly by Ryan. If he could get his shoelaces untied.
"Oh shit... You're right. Her uncle is Ben." Wes stood in a dumbfounded funk. "You know, there are other ladies. I think Evy is just bored." He decided. "That chick is on how many celebrity mag covers? I'm just flavor of the month." He waved his hand, then paused it and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Not that that's a bad thing."
"You live to be flavor of the month -- and you suck!" The last was yelled out as, Ryan had come to realize that in the case of Ryan Vs. the shoelaces, the shoelaces were winning. Big time. And he had also run out of other things to call Wes.
"Gee, Rybread, are you going to play like that? I don't see much hope for the team." Wes teased. "Maybe you can coach or something." He shrugged. "See, now that is more me, this hiding your shoes thing, come on!"
"Thought maybe you were trying something, you know, new." Ryan frowned down at his shoes, and than sighed as he looked up at Wes. "Okay, I give. Please untie my shoes. And please, I'd be as 'good' as a coach as Dad was ..." Ryan sort of half smiled than, thinking about their dad and his disastrous attempt to couch little league. He hadn't even tried to coach hockey.
Wes smirked and the shoelaces untied. "Oh, man, I hope not." He sat down on the bench and looked at his brother. "You hear from him lately? I got a note. I guess he's in Africa now. How hard is it to find Strange?"
He grabbed the racquetball he decided that was the puck and bounced it. "We have more than one of these?"
Laces now untied, Ryan started tying them up again. Going fast, so that Wes wouldn't have a chance to muck them up again. Finishing with his laces, he shook his head, he hadn't heard from their father recently.
"He's Strange. He could be .... anywhere. And if he's busy, he might not be checking his messages. God, he could be waging some sort of mystical war on someone or something."
"I suppose we could talk to ... you know... him. Or at least try to find him." Wes was talking about Strange's strange son, Noah Strange. He wasn't nearly as powerful as his Dad, but it could be worth a shot. "Unless Dad already did."
Ryan's initial reaction was to say 'no'. It wasn't that he didn't like Noah, it was just ... Ryan hated messing around with magic. He liked his bow and arrows, he liked things that made sense. Magic didn't always and there always seemed room for such huge error. You shot someone accidentally with an arrow, and it could be bad, but you could do so much more damage with a spell. Turn someone inside out for example ...
Still. This was about finding Mom.
Frowning, Ryan reached up and took off his baseball cap, holding it in his hands for a second, and fiddling with the back of the cap, adjusting the strap to make it bigger. "Well. I guess. We could. Or you could." Because Wes would probably have to send up some magical flare to get Noah's attention.
"Me?" Wes stuck out his tongue. "Noah and I did not get along. And let's face it, Strange is no fan of me. I think you should if anyone. But let's wait until I kick your ass in hockey." He bounced the racquetball and let it bounce higher and then bop Ryan on the noggin - not hard, just to get his attention. "Think Magnar will ever talk to us, because he could probably use this game to get his aggressions out.... or at least the fact that he's hard up."
"Hey, I wasn't exactly best pals with Noah either." Ryan hadn't been anyone's best pal during those akward teenage years. He shoved his hat back on his head after the ball bounced off it, because hey, at lest the hat was some protection. He scowled over at his twin, and then shruged, as he stood up and grabbed his hockey stick.
"He can't stay mad forever ... Besides, he's family." Which meant that they had to get along. At least in Ryan's head.
Wes' stick is shuffling the floor, bouncing the ball back and forth when it comes to him and he takes it and spreads out his arms in a dramatic fashion. "All will be forgiven!" He laughs and shakes his head. "You better have that keg tapped. After a couple matches, I'm going for the drink."