11: The Season Begins: Jupiter Jackalopes @ Dulcet Octopi

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Artie Amphigore is about to play in his first tourneytub game, and he is so not ready.

It's Friday night in Dulcet, Jupiter's neighboring town. The sky is a dying bluish pink, with stars just beginning to shine as the sun dips below the sea a few miles away. Artie sits in Excalibur on one of the platforms floating over the deep pool making up Percival Moon Memorial Court, Dulcet's high school tourneytub stadium. The pool is surrounded by a ring of bleachers, and they are loud. Loud and colorful. All of Jupiter and Dulcet have come out to witness the rivals' derby. Flagpoles dot the top of the pool, flapping in a lazy breeze. They are purple with an aggressive golden octopus emblazoned at their center.

The Dulcet Octopi.

One of the founding members of the AHSTA. And now the Jackalopes have to play them. The Jackalopes have to beat them. Artie grips his yoke harder. He really should have installed a better brand.

Unlike the Jackalopes' game last week, this week each team's city is broken up into two, with ten pulsesteel skyscrapers floating on separate platforms, located at both corners of each team's turf. It's almost as if they're simulating real world coastal cities. This week, the teams only have one manifestation station apiece, floating at the back central position of their turf.

Peter jockeys Jolly Roger inside the Jackalopes' manifestation station, evidently preparing himself for the daunting task before him. Hopefully this week he'll be able to manifest a tamer humor than last. Artie gazes at Peter for a moment, willing him on.

But now is the time for Artie to focus too.

The umpire is already busy telling the thaumaturges to manifest inside their designated manifestation stations. The game is about to begin.

The season is about to begin.

For real this time.

Artie watches Peter manifest a large frog-like humor with a scaly green accordion for a neck. It's not the most intimidating thing anyone's ever seen, but at least this one seems to have some sort of brain. It's tame. At the other end of the court, the Octopis' thaumaturge, jockeying a large Caraqueno Bolt with the call sign El Presidente, has manifested a gigantic octopus, whose tentacles slap against the chain-link walls of its enclosure.

"Real original." Artie mutters under his breath. His comm must be on, because he hears a soft chuckle through Excalibur's speakers.

"Their thaumaturge does this every year. I'm pretty sure he goes with an octopus for all their home games. It's like he's incapable of manifesting anything else." Genesis says.

Artie is intensely glad she can't see him blush. At least he made her laugh.

"Still. El Presidente's octopus is giant and angry. I guess this frog thing is better than a flying guitar, but not by much. I'm sorry guys. I keep mess-"

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