One-Shots (2014-2015 Season)
Alternative Sabrebow Scene for Arrow Hawk: BOTHA
December, 2015 - Sabres vs Stars
Coming back from the rather long, yet entertaining and fun winter break, Val Nichushkin and the Dallas Stars have the Buffalo Sabres on the schedule as the first game. The Sabres are in Dallas for the game and one of the players, Nikita Zadorov is planning to get together with the Stars’ Russian.
Val has extended the invite to him, given that he is a Russian player and that he is the only Russian NHL player he doesn’t yet know. And also, he knows that the poor guy’s two Russian friends on the team are injured. Nikita is alone and Val feels for him.
Just finished with the usual pre-game practice on enemy ice, Nikita Zadorov walks out of the American Airlines Center and heads toward the plaza, across the street, in-between two structures. Sitting in a bench is Val. The blond Russian’s hockey bag is at his feet. He has his arm on the back of the bench and his head is tilted upward. He is looking up at the sky. As Nikita gets closer, he sees that the Star’s eyes are shut tightly and he is enjoying the breeze. He appears to sense Nikita’s appearance as they snap open and two crystal blue eyes find the Sabre’s own amber ones.
Val gestures to the bench beside him. “Садитесь Никита. (Sit down, Nikita.)”
The young Sabres defenseman nods and sits down beside the Star. He sets his own bag down at his feet. There is a moment of silence, before Val turns to him. They both look at one another, lost and perplexed at what to do.
“Итак, вы Валерий Ничушкин, России Даллас звезды? (So, you're Valeri Nichushkin, the Russian Dallas Star?)” Nikita asks, eyeing him up and down skeptically.
“Я. И ты Никита Задоров? (I am. And you're Nikita Zadorov?)” Val replies, dipping his head.
Nikita looks to the side, surveying the structure with keen interest, before he turns back to Val. “Да, это всегда приятно встретиться с другой русский в НХЛ, но у меня есть один вопрос, откуда ты в России? Почему я никогда не слышал о вас до сих пор? (Yes, it's always nice to meet another Russian in the NHL but I have one question, where are you from in Russia? Why have I never heard of you until now?)”
“Вот два вопроса, Никита. Но я из Челябинска. Сергей Гончар, Никита Нестеров, Евгений Кузнецов, Артемий Панарин ... они все оттуда. (That's two questions, Nikita. But I'm from Chelyabinsk. Sergei Gonchar, Nikita Nesterov, Evgeny Kuznetsov, Artemy Panarin … they are all from there.)”
“Челябинск? (Chelyabinsk?)” Nikita questions with a cock of his head. “Я там не была. (I've never been there.)”
“Откуда ты? (Where are you from?)”
“Москва. (Moscow.)”
“Я был в Москве. Я играл с Динамо! (I've been to Moscow. I played with the Dynamo!)”
“Ох. Ну, я получаю знать вас сейчас. Итак, как это все, как играть со звездами? (Oh. Well, I'm getting to know you now. So, how's it like playing with the Stars?)”
“Мне это очень нравится. Они все так красиво и очаровательно. (I like it a lot. They are all so nice and charming.)”
“То же самое с саблями. Надеюсь, мы сможем восстановить и стать, как динамично, как Чикаго Блэкхокс. (Same with the Sabres. Hopefully we can rebuild and become as dynamic as the Chicago Blackhawks.)”
“Да, каждая команда стремится быть как Чикаго кажется. (Yeah, every team strives to be like Chicago it seems.)”
“Потому что они так хорошо. (Because they are so good.)”
They both look ahead of them at a vast empty parking lot for the AAC. At least it is empty for now.
“Что вы хотите сделать, Никита? В свободное время, что есть. (What do you like to do, Nikita? In your spare time that is.)”
“Нравится то, что я делаю для удовольствия? (Like what I do for fun?)”
“Да. (Yes.)”
“Uh...Мне нравится, чтобы болтаться с друзьями и мне нравится стрельба из лука. (I like to hang out with friends and I like archery.)”
Val’s eyes widen. “Стрельба из лука? (Archery?)” He is unable to speak, because he is in so much shock. Nikita Zadorov of the Buffalo Sabres likes archery? Just like him? This can’t be a random happenstance, no, there must be more going on here. But Val shoves his shock away and continues on. “Вам нравится стрельба из лука? (You like archery?)”
“Да. (Yes.)” Nikita’s eyes flash a lighter amber color.
Something isn’t right! Val’s conscious screams at him to get up and run, but he doesn’t. He remains on the bench, staring at the Sabre. Nikita smiles.
“Что важно, Валерий? Разве я что-то сказать? (What's the matter Valeri? Did I say something?)” The Sabre taps his ear. He can hear a loud commanding voice shout, Take the Dallas Star out, now, Sabrebow!
Val’s eyes dart to his bag at his feet. He knows that in the bag, his bow and arrows are. The quiver and the case. Each of the heroes had been allowed to take their weapons with them just in case. And it turns out Val just might need his equipment. Nikita is doing the same thing however.
Suddenly they both make the move and go to their bags. In unison, they both whip out similar bows and arrows. For the sake of time, they both don’t bother with putting on the quivers and just snatch an arrow each and notch them into their bows. Then they aim at one another.
“Да, у меня есть проблема с тем, что вы сказали! Кто ты Никита Задоров? (Yeah, I do have a problem with what you said! Who are you Nikita Zadorov?)”
“Я мог бы задать вам тот же вопрос Вал! (I could ask you the same question Val!)”
They remain standing opposite each other, with their bows pointed ahead of them, ready for attacking. Nikita pulls back on his string.
“Кто ты, Никита?! (Who are you, Nikita?!)” Val demands.
“Что это имеет значение для вас? Скоро вы будете иметь стрелку в вашем сердце, благодаря мне! (What's it matter to you? Soon you'll have an arrow in your heart thanks to me!)” Nikita spits back.
“Кто вы работаете? Почему вы хотите убить меня? Скажи мне Никита! Если я умру, я не должен, по крайней мере получить ответ! (Who are you working for? Why do you want to kill me? Tell me Nikita! If I am going to die, shouldn't I at least get an answer!)”
“Прекрасно. (Fine.)” Nikita lowers his bow, but maintains a hostile facial expression.
Val lowers his weapon as well. He is a fair player here. But by no means is he relaxed. And to think that he could have had another friend...who instead seems to be working for someone who wants to kill him...how can he be relaxed?
Sabrebow!? What are you doing? Kill him!! Your orders are to kill him!
“Я был нанят человек, вы знаете все слишком хорошо Валери. Его зовут Александр Овечкин! (I was hired by a person you know all too well Valeri. His name is Alexander Ovechkin!)”
“Овечкин?! (Ovechkin?!)”
“Да, он нанял меня в качестве убийцы, чтобы убить вас. (Yes, he hired me as an assassin to kill you.)”
“Ну, он взял не тот человек. Я не тот человек, я когда-то был. (Well, he picked the wrong person. I'm not the same man I once was.)” Val tenses up, gripping the bow tighter.
“Я вижу, что. (I can see that.)”
“Расскажите Овечкин, я не планирую умирать или спускаясь легко. О, и, возможно, он не должен выбрал Буффало Саблю, чтобы сделать его работу. Буффало игроки разочарования в любом случае. (Tell Ovechkin, I don't plan on dying or going down easy. Oh, and maybe he shouldn't have picked a Buffalo Sabre to do his work. Buffalo players are disappointments anyway.)”
Nikita stomps his foot and snaps his weapon back up. Val does the same thing. Maybe his martial arts training will come in handy. Perhaps, and hopefully, Nikita only knows how to shoot decently but isn’t an expert. They both let an arrow fly and dodge the shots precisely. The arrows fly at the structures behind them.
Val jumps onto the bench, snatching another arrow from his bag and aims at Nikita again. The Sabre does the same and once more they both let their arrows fly. And yet again the arrows fly harmlessly away.
The Dallas Star leaps from the bench, swinging his bow at the Sabre, who gasps in shock. Val lands on the ground and swiftly spins around in a circle and wraps the bow around Nikita’s neck.
“Кто ты Валерий? (Who are you, Valeri?)” Nikita snarls.
Val leans over his shoulder and whispers into his ear, the same one he was tapping and fooling around with, “Я Стрелка Ястреб! И я хоккейной Мститель! (I’m Arrow Hawk! And I’m a Hockey Avenger!)”
Nikita gasps as Val rams the shaft of the bow against the back of his head, winding him temporarily. He rapidly removes the bow from the Sabre, before he snatches the earpiece that he spots, a little dot-like device, and throws it to the ground. “Оставьте меня в покое Овечкин иначе… (Leave me alone Ovechkin or else...)” Then he slams his foot down on it, smashing it.
Nikita recovers and spins to him. “Хоккей Мститель? (A Hockey Avenger?)”
“Да. Почему вы согласны работать с этой высокомерной человека? (Yes. Why would you agree to work with that arrogant man?)”
“Он сказал, что может поговорить с саблями и вытащить меня из любой проблемы. (He said he could talk to the Sabres and get me out of any problem.)”
“Это неправильно, Никита. (That's wrong, Nikita.)”
Nikita looks down at his feet, ashamed. “Я знаю. Мне очень жаль. Я думал, что это было прекрасно. Но тогда, когда я рассказал, чтобы убить тебя ... Я не убийца. Можете ли вы простить меня, Валери? (I know. I'm so sorry. I thought it was fine. But then after I was told to kill you...I'm not a killer. Can you forgive me, Valeri?)” He looks up, his eyes full of regret. He is genuinely sorry.
Val sets his bow down on his bag and relaxes. He wraps an arm around Nikita and guides him over to the bench. He drops his bow on his bag and sighs.
“Эй, может быть, вы можете встретить кого-то. Ее зовут Эвелин О'Рейли, но она идет Звезда. (Hey, maybe you can meet someone. Her name's Evelyn O'Reilly, but she goes by Zvezda.)”
Coming back from the rather long, yet entertaining and fun winter break, Val Nichushkin and the Dallas Stars have the Buffalo Sabres on the schedule as the first game. The Sabres are in Dallas for the game and one of the players, Nikita Zadorov is planning to get together with the Stars’ Russian.
Val has extended the invite to him, given that he is a Russian player and that he is the only Russian NHL player he doesn’t yet know. And also, he knows that the poor guy’s two Russian friends on the team are injured. Nikita is alone and Val feels for him.
Just finished with the usual pre-game practice on enemy ice, Nikita Zadorov walks out of the American Airlines Center and heads toward the plaza, across the street, in-between two structures. Sitting in a bench is Val. The blond Russian’s hockey bag is at his feet. He has his arm on the back of the bench and his head is tilted upward. He is looking up at the sky. As Nikita gets closer, he sees that the Star’s eyes are shut tightly and he is enjoying the breeze. He appears to sense Nikita’s appearance as they snap open and two crystal blue eyes find the Sabre’s own amber ones.
Val gestures to the bench beside him. “Садитесь Никита. (Sit down, Nikita.)”
The young Sabres defenseman nods and sits down beside the Star. He sets his own bag down at his feet. There is a moment of silence, before Val turns to him. They both look at one another, lost and perplexed at what to do.
“Итак, вы Валерий Ничушкин, России Даллас звезды? (So, you're Valeri Nichushkin, the Russian Dallas Star?)” Nikita asks, eyeing him up and down skeptically.
“Я. И ты Никита Задоров? (I am. And you're Nikita Zadorov?)” Val replies, dipping his head.
Nikita looks to the side, surveying the structure with keen interest, before he turns back to Val. “Да, это всегда приятно встретиться с другой русский в НХЛ, но у меня есть один вопрос, откуда ты в России? Почему я никогда не слышал о вас до сих пор? (Yes, it's always nice to meet another Russian in the NHL but I have one question, where are you from in Russia? Why have I never heard of you until now?)”
“Вот два вопроса, Никита. Но я из Челябинска. Сергей Гончар, Никита Нестеров, Евгений Кузнецов, Артемий Панарин ... они все оттуда. (That's two questions, Nikita. But I'm from Chelyabinsk. Sergei Gonchar, Nikita Nesterov, Evgeny Kuznetsov, Artemy Panarin … they are all from there.)”
“Челябинск? (Chelyabinsk?)” Nikita questions with a cock of his head. “Я там не была. (I've never been there.)”
“Откуда ты? (Where are you from?)”
“Москва. (Moscow.)”
“Я был в Москве. Я играл с Динамо! (I've been to Moscow. I played with the Dynamo!)”
“Ох. Ну, я получаю знать вас сейчас. Итак, как это все, как играть со звездами? (Oh. Well, I'm getting to know you now. So, how's it like playing with the Stars?)”
“Мне это очень нравится. Они все так красиво и очаровательно. (I like it a lot. They are all so nice and charming.)”
“То же самое с саблями. Надеюсь, мы сможем восстановить и стать, как динамично, как Чикаго Блэкхокс. (Same with the Sabres. Hopefully we can rebuild and become as dynamic as the Chicago Blackhawks.)”
“Да, каждая команда стремится быть как Чикаго кажется. (Yeah, every team strives to be like Chicago it seems.)”
“Потому что они так хорошо. (Because they are so good.)”
They both look ahead of them at a vast empty parking lot for the AAC. At least it is empty for now.
“Что вы хотите сделать, Никита? В свободное время, что есть. (What do you like to do, Nikita? In your spare time that is.)”
“Нравится то, что я делаю для удовольствия? (Like what I do for fun?)”
“Да. (Yes.)”
“Uh...Мне нравится, чтобы болтаться с друзьями и мне нравится стрельба из лука. (I like to hang out with friends and I like archery.)”
Val’s eyes widen. “Стрельба из лука? (Archery?)” He is unable to speak, because he is in so much shock. Nikita Zadorov of the Buffalo Sabres likes archery? Just like him? This can’t be a random happenstance, no, there must be more going on here. But Val shoves his shock away and continues on. “Вам нравится стрельба из лука? (You like archery?)”
“Да. (Yes.)” Nikita’s eyes flash a lighter amber color.
Something isn’t right! Val’s conscious screams at him to get up and run, but he doesn’t. He remains on the bench, staring at the Sabre. Nikita smiles.
“Что важно, Валерий? Разве я что-то сказать? (What's the matter Valeri? Did I say something?)” The Sabre taps his ear. He can hear a loud commanding voice shout, Take the Dallas Star out, now, Sabrebow!
Val’s eyes dart to his bag at his feet. He knows that in the bag, his bow and arrows are. The quiver and the case. Each of the heroes had been allowed to take their weapons with them just in case. And it turns out Val just might need his equipment. Nikita is doing the same thing however.
Suddenly they both make the move and go to their bags. In unison, they both whip out similar bows and arrows. For the sake of time, they both don’t bother with putting on the quivers and just snatch an arrow each and notch them into their bows. Then they aim at one another.
“Да, у меня есть проблема с тем, что вы сказали! Кто ты Никита Задоров? (Yeah, I do have a problem with what you said! Who are you Nikita Zadorov?)”
“Я мог бы задать вам тот же вопрос Вал! (I could ask you the same question Val!)”
They remain standing opposite each other, with their bows pointed ahead of them, ready for attacking. Nikita pulls back on his string.
“Кто ты, Никита?! (Who are you, Nikita?!)” Val demands.
“Что это имеет значение для вас? Скоро вы будете иметь стрелку в вашем сердце, благодаря мне! (What's it matter to you? Soon you'll have an arrow in your heart thanks to me!)” Nikita spits back.
“Кто вы работаете? Почему вы хотите убить меня? Скажи мне Никита! Если я умру, я не должен, по крайней мере получить ответ! (Who are you working for? Why do you want to kill me? Tell me Nikita! If I am going to die, shouldn't I at least get an answer!)”
“Прекрасно. (Fine.)” Nikita lowers his bow, but maintains a hostile facial expression.
Val lowers his weapon as well. He is a fair player here. But by no means is he relaxed. And to think that he could have had another friend...who instead seems to be working for someone who wants to kill him...how can he be relaxed?
Sabrebow!? What are you doing? Kill him!! Your orders are to kill him!
“Я был нанят человек, вы знаете все слишком хорошо Валери. Его зовут Александр Овечкин! (I was hired by a person you know all too well Valeri. His name is Alexander Ovechkin!)”
“Овечкин?! (Ovechkin?!)”
“Да, он нанял меня в качестве убийцы, чтобы убить вас. (Yes, he hired me as an assassin to kill you.)”
“Ну, он взял не тот человек. Я не тот человек, я когда-то был. (Well, he picked the wrong person. I'm not the same man I once was.)” Val tenses up, gripping the bow tighter.
“Я вижу, что. (I can see that.)”
“Расскажите Овечкин, я не планирую умирать или спускаясь легко. О, и, возможно, он не должен выбрал Буффало Саблю, чтобы сделать его работу. Буффало игроки разочарования в любом случае. (Tell Ovechkin, I don't plan on dying or going down easy. Oh, and maybe he shouldn't have picked a Buffalo Sabre to do his work. Buffalo players are disappointments anyway.)”
Nikita stomps his foot and snaps his weapon back up. Val does the same thing. Maybe his martial arts training will come in handy. Perhaps, and hopefully, Nikita only knows how to shoot decently but isn’t an expert. They both let an arrow fly and dodge the shots precisely. The arrows fly at the structures behind them.
Val jumps onto the bench, snatching another arrow from his bag and aims at Nikita again. The Sabre does the same and once more they both let their arrows fly. And yet again the arrows fly harmlessly away.
The Dallas Star leaps from the bench, swinging his bow at the Sabre, who gasps in shock. Val lands on the ground and swiftly spins around in a circle and wraps the bow around Nikita’s neck.
“Кто ты Валерий? (Who are you, Valeri?)” Nikita snarls.
Val leans over his shoulder and whispers into his ear, the same one he was tapping and fooling around with, “Я Стрелка Ястреб! И я хоккейной Мститель! (I’m Arrow Hawk! And I’m a Hockey Avenger!)”
Nikita gasps as Val rams the shaft of the bow against the back of his head, winding him temporarily. He rapidly removes the bow from the Sabre, before he snatches the earpiece that he spots, a little dot-like device, and throws it to the ground. “Оставьте меня в покое Овечкин иначе… (Leave me alone Ovechkin or else...)” Then he slams his foot down on it, smashing it.
Nikita recovers and spins to him. “Хоккей Мститель? (A Hockey Avenger?)”
“Да. Почему вы согласны работать с этой высокомерной человека? (Yes. Why would you agree to work with that arrogant man?)”
“Он сказал, что может поговорить с саблями и вытащить меня из любой проблемы. (He said he could talk to the Sabres and get me out of any problem.)”
“Это неправильно, Никита. (That's wrong, Nikita.)”
Nikita looks down at his feet, ashamed. “Я знаю. Мне очень жаль. Я думал, что это было прекрасно. Но тогда, когда я рассказал, чтобы убить тебя ... Я не убийца. Можете ли вы простить меня, Валери? (I know. I'm so sorry. I thought it was fine. But then after I was told to kill you...I'm not a killer. Can you forgive me, Valeri?)” He looks up, his eyes full of regret. He is genuinely sorry.
Val sets his bow down on his bag and relaxes. He wraps an arm around Nikita and guides him over to the bench. He drops his bow on his bag and sighs.
“Эй, может быть, вы можете встретить кого-то. Ее зовут Эвелин О'Рейли, но она идет Звезда. (Hey, maybe you can meet someone. Her name's Evelyn O'Reilly, but she goes by Zvezda.)”
Notes
There's a reason why this is not in the actual story. That reason is that I'm respectful of other people and this runs too close idea wise and character wise to what a friends of mine has written on here. I do like it though and I figure it can be in here. It won't be used, but just so you know I had this in mind as a possibility for the intro to Sabrebow. ;)
Ovechkin the villain might still show up and make a possibly return...but no guarantees. :P
Also, congrats to baby Russian Zady and his new wife, I wish you best of luck!!!! :)
These will run until the start of next season. So I'm thinking until the week before Pre-Season in September. I might get something from a dream or on Tumblr or from the Blackhawks Convention... ;)
6/27/15