AAOOOSC! Junior Powers!

Setting Ideas In Motion

Dark.

Then lights.

A row of lights flicks on along the cream-coloured walls, illuminating the massive theatre. The stage is deluged in the light from above, its deep red curtains sparkling and polished wooden flooring glinting.

Little warm lights line down the aisles between the sections of the velvet red audience area, lighting the path for three holographic figures.

The three holograms are elderly men hobbling down the aisle while gazing around their surroundings. Their glowing, holographic outlines give off a soft blue light in the dusky room.

The one to the left is is Harold Anderson, the founder of the United States Hockey League. The one in the middle is Ed Chynoweth, the founder of the Canadian Hockey League. Lastly, the one to the right is President Theodore Roosevelt, the founder of the National Collegiate Athletic Association.

"What are we doing here?" Harold asks in a gruff tone.

President Roosevelt turns to Ed, adjusting his delicate glasses. "Are you sure we're supposed to meet up here?"

Ed nods slowly. "Yes, Mr. Gorman said to..."

"Ah, greetings, my fellow league founders!" a familiar voice is heard booming from ahead.

The three holograms halt in their tracks and peer ahead, catching sight of the stage.

Ambling happily on the stage is another holographic man with a massive grin. This is Thomas Patrick Gorman, or Tommy Gorman, the founder of the NHL.

Tommy halts in front of the other men, still on the luminous stage. "And Mr. President," he finishes off, extending a translucent hand toward the holographic man with glasses.

"Why did you bring us here, Mr. Gorman?" President Roosevelt questions loudly for the man on the stage to heard.

Tommy ambles to the nearby steps and goes down them, descending to their level. He then takes a nearby seat next to the aisle in the middle row.

He holds his hand out toward on the seat next to him. "Please, take a seat."

The three founders round the row, settling to Tommy's left.

Tommy turns to them with a slightly grave expression. "Are you men aware that supernatural powers exist?"

"Yes," Ed, the man right next to him, replies, "I did have some of my players have your league's powers, such as Tavares and Crosby and Ward."

Tommy peers ahead at President Roosevelt and Harold. "And you two?"

"Same as Mr. Chynoweth," the President replies.

"Yes." Harold firmly nods once.

"Good, good." Tommy rubs his chin with his eyes downcast, forming his next sentence in his head. He gazes at them. "I brought you men here today to address a problem and a solution."

Harold juts his chin at him. "Go on."

"You are all aware of the supernatural universe. But do you guys know its potential?" Tommy grasps onto the armrest. "It it beneficial and dangerous? If there are supernatural beings out there, they can inflict harm on your leagues. And if they do, who will stop them?"

"I've never thought of that..." Ed rubs his chin while peering up. He then looks at the NHL founder. "I would say the power players destined for your league would stop them."

"Yes..." Tommy appears hesitant. "Unfortunately, that won't work since their powers aren't up to par due to not being on their right team yet."

President Roosevelt lets out a chuckle, a smile under a bushy mustache. "Who would want to take over junior leagues and my athletic colleges?"