Verglas



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    “Hiding something? What, no! I wouldn’t – I’d never – ”

    “You know what? ƒμ©* it.” With a huff, Zooble yanked at the tablet in Ragatha’s hands, hard. Pomni caught how the little seams fixing Ragatha’s arms to her shoulders flexed, threatening to give way. She had to let go before Zooble ripped her forearms clean off. Zooble swiped through the tablet almost angrily as they muttered, “I don’t even know what you’re so pressed about. It’s not like your derby rider was that pretentious about – ”

    Zooble cut themself off and went very, very silent.

    Pomni’s mouth went dry. Dryer than it’d been even after a stress of time without real water. She watched, scared for a reason she couldn’t place, as both of Zooble’s detachable eyes widened. She could have sworn that their hot pink face turned almost salmon for a quick second before returning to its original shade. They set down the tablet and turned.

    “Ragatha,” they said slowly, “why does the catalogue of NPCs include a mock-up of Jax?”


    or, the gang learns something new about Jax

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    04 May 2026

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    Maedhros wakes up again, on the first morning of the Nirnaeth Arnoediad.

    Of course, nobody calls it that. For them, it hasn't happened yet.

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    04 May 2026

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    The one where Maedhros travels to the past, realizes his father is barely an adult, and starts raising him.

    Nolofinwe thinks this is hilarious, right up until his half-grown nephew takes over the running of his household too.

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    03 May 2026

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    “Which one is yours?”

    Shane scans the ice for his daughter’s jersey number. Ilya had been really smug about it when they brought it home. She has your last name, Hollander, he’d said, let her have my number if she wants. Is better, anyway.

    “That one,” he says, pointing at the clump of white jerseys. “Number 81. Mila.”

    “Oh you’re Mila’s dad!” The woman looks delighted. “I’m Maddie’s mom. Jane.”

    She holds her hand out, and Shane has to bite back a grin. He takes her hand.

    “Shane,” he says, shaking it. “Nice to meet you.”

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    27 Apr 2026

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    The first sound Ilya hears is a thin, discordant symphony of beeps and whirs. Something vibrating. 

    The next thing he hears is…wet. A sort of shaking, gargling sound, that feels like the ugliest crying he’s ever heard. And through it, Shane’s voice. 

    “I’m with him now, mom. He’s— he’s not fine. He’s not. I know—”

    Ilya wants to ask who's not fine, but he can’t feel his own body, his mouth, enough to ask.

    “Yeah,” Shane is saying, only slightly calmer. “I know. He wasn’t breathing—"

    Ilya knows there's a link, between the clinical musicality of medical settings, Shane’s audible, awful distress, and his own physical incapacity. It’s just, it’s so tenuous, and the air around him is so thick, so heavy. It would be easy, to sleep, a little. 

    -
    Footage of the last game between Ottawa and Montreal is everywhere; it’s breached containment from the sports world, and now it seems like everyone is baying for Montreal’s blood. Except, Ilya is oblivious. Not exactly blissfully so, but as the fight for accountability within the league rages on without him, Ilya just wants someone, anyone, to tell him what happened.

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    27 Apr 2026

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