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Yuri Plisetsky ([info]plisetsky) wrote in [info]valloic,
@ 2020-12-27 06:28:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:!: action/thread/log, ₴ inactive: otabek altin, ₴ inactive: yuri plisetsky

WHO: Yuri & OPEN
WHAT: Skating, practicing
WHERE: Faber
WHEN: 27th Dec/Whenever it's public skate or empty
WARNINGS: Language, maybe?
STATUS: OPEN



While Yuri didn't really celebrate Christmas he couldn't really deny that the city had a strangely warm feeling around the holiday, despite the cold temperature. It was bright and lively in comparison to home which always seemed a little dull and grey these days and as weird as all of the people (and non-people) were, they were friendly. Just friendly, for the most part, not creepy-friendly like his Yuri's Angels but not jerks, either. It wasn't that he particularly cared or that everybody was kind and welcoming and bright - some looked at him suspiciously, some glared and some people were just as haughty as they were in Russia, like the woman he'd bought these tiger print leggings off of that he was currently wearing as he laced up at the side of the rink. Tiger print leggings and the Russian skating team jacket he'd been wearing when he arrived here.

His skates were... mostly broken in by this point, enough that Yuri could probably get away with just blisters and bleeding if he went and trained for hours on end like he usually did. He didn't plan on that because he had no idea when the hockey team would be back to claim their territory but it seemed empty for now as he stretched and then stepped on the ice.

The scrape of blades was almost like going back to normality for him. The past few weeks had probably been the longest he hadn't skated regularly for in his life without being sick or otherwise indisposed but the self-imposed pressure was still there to be the best. He went through his jumps, landing each consecutively until the quad flip - he would never admit to having trouble with it because it was Viktor's signature and had almost become Yuuri's in a sense but Yuri misjudged it, under-rotated and promptly ate shit on the ice, slamming down hard with a grimace as he heard a crack from somewhere in his face - at least it was his face and nothing on his body, he decided, blood dripping from his nose to the ice as he pushed up and swore violently to himself in russian. He could fucking get this. He was the champion.



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[info]altin
2020-12-28 05:30 pm UTC (link)
Going to a rink while still unable to actually skate was a special kind of machoism really. Helping Jack with gym training for a hockey team even more so. But the hockey crew was nice and it gave Otabek something to focus on and it worked it it's own way. He wasn't there for that though, had instead hit up the gym for his own workout - and he needed to figure out a physical therapist soon - and had found himself walking over to the rink.

He hadn't really expected to see Yuri there though. And even though it was clearly just a warm up, working through components and not a routine really, it was easy to get lost in. Yuri was magic on the ice. Otabek had always thought so. Even before Barcelona, before they'd inserted themselves into each other's lives, Otabek had watched. Clips of routines as Yuri finished in Juniors and then the broadcasts of qualifiers from there.

He moved down to the ice level, dropped his gym bag at his feet and leaned against the boards as Yuri glided along the ice. Until he fell. Otabek flinched at the sound and he exhaled as Yuri got up. Because that was always the decider on how bad a fall was. Could you get up. Though the sight of blood had his nose wrinkling up.

"Yuri!" he called across the ice and dug in his bag for a clean towel which he held up.

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[info]plisetsky
2020-12-29 12:18 am UTC (link)
There was something to be said for focus - namely that an entire crowd could have filed in during his skate and Yuri wouldn't have noticed anything happening until he pushed himself back to his feet and heard a voice from across the rink, holding his sleeve up to his nose to staunch the bleeding. It wasn't difficult to notice Otabek from a distance considering how many times he'd taken his chances on launching himself at a silhouette to be carried, even though Otabek was now shorter than him. He had half a mind to just turn, ignore him and continue but it did occur to him that this wasn't his rink and staining the ice with blood would probably not be looked upon too kindly.

He skated over to Otabek slowly, frowning slightly as he took the towel and pressed it to his nose. "What're you doing here?" he asked after a short moment of staring at him over the top of the towel which probably wasn't half as dark of a look as he was hoping it would be, especially paired with his voice being slightly thicker from the nosebleed that probably just made it sound as though he'd been crying or something stupid like that.

Why was Otabek here, anyway? As far as Yuri knew, he still couldn't skate. Didn't even have a pair of skates unless he'd bought some here like he had. He'd been doing a good job of avoiding him so far except when Beka had first arrived, but. That maybe wasn't the best way to deal with his problems.

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[info]altin
2020-12-29 05:39 pm UTC (link)
It was a good question. One he didn't really have an answer for other than a shrug. "Torturing myself I guess?" he offered as an answer. It wasn't far off. For all his bravado of he was fine, that he had other things to occupy his time, that he could focus on music... all the excuses he'd given everyone - Otabek missed skating. Like missing a part of himself. Like missing Yuri even when Yuri stood right in front of him. Nothing had really been the same.

"You going to get mad at me if I tell you you under rotated?" he asked with what he hoped came across as a teasing smirk. Under or over, it was the constant fight for all of them it seemed. The difference between landing it or not that a split second in their jumps made.

He pulled out another small towel from his bag and wet it with some water from his water bottle before offering it to Yuri. Something to wash whatever blood might still be on his face off with.

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[info]plisetsky
2020-12-30 05:38 pm UTC (link)
Yuri offered a slight shrug at that response, not sure what else he could say to it. Otabek's injury had been awful but Yuri wasn't sure he could keep away from a rink, either. It just... felt like he cared more about his music, now. Like he'd pushed aside skating for everything else he was doing now and because Yuri came with skating, pushed him aside, too. He shot him a suspicious look when he mentioned the under rotation, but he knew he was right.

"I know," he murmured petulantly through the towel, screwing it up and tossing it aside to deal with it later as he started to wipe off the blood, tilting his head this way and that. "Is it broken? It feels pretty damn broken, but- I don't want to have an ugly fucking nose," he grumbled. He actually sort of liked his nose - most of his face, really. A long journey of accepting that being pretty wasn't bad or disgusting like most in Russia would have you believe.

"Thanks, Beka," he murmured.

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[info]altin
2021-01-01 05:36 pm UTC (link)
"I don't have any advice other than - don't next time?" he offered with a wry smile. Yuri was a near flawless skater, there was nothing Otabek could tell him that he didn't already know. Sometimes it was just as simple as missing your timing and a million cliches on doing it right could only go so far.

He looked over Yuri's face, and shook his head. "I think you're alright, doesn't look broken." Would probably hurt like hell and bruise but nothing looked out of place.

Beka brought a soft smile to his face, tugged at his heart a little and god he felt like such an asshole lately. He leaned his arms against the rink boards and looked out over the ice. "You're welcome, Yura."

There was a short pause as he chewed on his lower lip. "I -" he looked to Yuri. "I'm sorry," he started. "I know I've been kind of - no not kind of. I know I've been a pretty shitty friend lately, a pretty shitty person in general." Another brief pause. "And I haven't been very fair to you."

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[info]plisetsky
2021-01-08 02:40 am UTC (link)
Yuri huffed softly at the 'Yura' he received in return, not bothering to correct him, as much as the little spiteful part of him wanted to. He wasn't as much of a bitchy hypocrite as he used to be, he supposed, but Otabek had always been a soft spot a mile wide for him. He didn't really have it in his heart to be truly mean to him without reason, even when he was hurt. When they were both hurt, judging by his next few words.

"...Right," he murmured, lowering the towel from his face and glancing down at the blood on it. It wasn't pouring, at least. He'd definitely seen worse from accidents like this and he was damn lucky it wasn't his leg, feeling slightly guilty that of all people, Otabek had been the one to see him eat ice. He blamed it on brand new skates, an unfamiliar rink and the distraction of being in this weird place instead of at home.

A shitty friend. Right. Another reminder of why he'd been upset in the first place, their dual inability to define any of this. Anything that had happened between them. "...I still don't like that you went home. Even with the injury, being away from choreographing puts you at a disadvantage," he murmured. "...But I get it. You're a good DJ. I just don't like that I won't be able to kick your ass at the Olympics."

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[info]altin
2021-01-09 07:44 pm UTC (link)
Otabek knew he could go two ways here. He could just shrug off the conversation and make some wry comment before telling Yuri to show him the quad flip again. Or he could actually be honest about the mess that was going on in his mind. The kind of honesty he owed Yuri. That Yuri deserved.

He was quiet for a moment, gaze down at Yuri's skates on the other side of the boards. "Yuri.." he started and looked up.

"It's not even about being a DJ. That was always - backup? Something I did for fun. I don't want to leave skating." Not even close. The fact the decision, even if was temporary, was made for him was something that more than kept him up at night. Injured in the prime of his career. It fucking sucked.

"I didn't leave to switch careers," he admitted. He shrugged a little, though it was clear he was taking this conversation very seriously. "Yuri I left because I didn't want to hold you back. I've been - a mess. I'm angry and heartbroken and I didn't want to drag you down into my shit. I didn't want to be a distraction."

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