hey fab! should we be mildly concerned that will doesn’t seem visibly bigger this summer? it’s interesting that himself and the team have voiced this is what they want from him and as we saw in halifax maye day etc. he’s capable of it so i’m surprised he looks so lean at this stage in the summer and was wondering your thoughts on it all?
So, pic on the left was in November of last season & pic on the right was just a few days ago with one of our very own botg fans. (I won't tag in case they don't want me to.)
I actually think he looks pretty good! Not as big as Halifax, but he looks healthy. And based on what I saw of his skating this past week, I have zero concerns on that front.
Will is just a lean guy, you know? He doesn't necessarily need bulk to be strong. We saw how quickly he lost it last season, so maybe he's trying something different this time.
Mack looks pretty lean to me too, for what it's worth. Not surprising considering how much he skates! (I read this crazy article a while back where Joshua Ravensbergen talked about how intense Mack is with training. Ravensbergen said he lost 8 lbs in one day!)
Maybe Will & Mack have decided to focus on skating up to this stage, and now they'll focus more on weights. It's kind of opposite what most people do, but whatever Mack has done for off-season training up to this point has clearly been working. So maybe Will is following the same strategy.
We're still like 7 weeks or so from training camp, so they'll have time to pack on a few more pounds. Also, this season will be slightly less intense than last without the Olympic break condensing the schedule. (Sharks have 13 back-to-backs this season versus 16 last season, plus more rest between most games.) So it should be a bit easier to keep weight on throughout the season.
I'm not worried. I think they'll both come to camp ready to go.
Summary: Echo wakes in a panic. Thankfully someone is there to soothe his racing thoughts.
Warnings: discussion of panic, brief mention of blood.
Based off of this post I really couldn’t help but write something for it.
@saturn-sends-hugs this is a gift for you, friend <3
Echo woke with a gasp, a gut punch, almost a garble. For a second he thought blood was in his throat, skin burning as flame licked him, a scream right on the edge of his tongue. Then the rumbling of a ship’s engine reminded him of where he was. The Marauder. Clone Force 99. Safe. But why didn’t he feel like it? With a grunt Echo pulled himself up, hammock swinging precariously while his lungs tried to pump air through him. The dreams wouldn’t leave him be no matter how hard he tried. Days of waking up near panic left him fatigued, wanting for sleep but rarely letting it take him. Echo swung his legs out of the hammock and dropped onto the floor. He grabbing the side of one of the bunks for balance and tried to steady his heartbeat. Everyone else should be asleep - Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair all dozing peacefully - but Echo needed something. What that something was he wasn’t sure but he had to get out of that hammock. He couldn’t go to the cockpit, not while Tech was on watch. Maybe he could switch with him, take over the night watch so he could stay awake. Anything to keep those images away. Anything to make the night pass by without his heart beating out of his chest.
“Gonna keep standing there or are you going to sit down before you topple over?” Without meaning to Echo flinched. Crosshair was awake - apparently - and was staring at him passively. He was sitting on a lower bunk, back against the wall with some sort of flimsi pad in his lap, a pencil held between his fingers. How did Echo not notice him?
Echo shook his head. “No, I’m-” He took a second to swallow the rough feeling in his throat but nearly choked on it. Crosshair’s eyes flickered away from him and to the book in his hand.
”Sit down before you break something. I won’t be peeling you off the floor when you pass out.” Crosshair said, voice low. Echo bristled at the insinuation but couldn’t quite argue. His head was starting to feel light and that tight ball of panic hadn’t lessened in his chest. After a few gulps of air Echo moved until he could sit on the edge of the bottom bunk, scooting back until he was mimicking Crosshair’s position, head tilted back against the wall.
Silence spread between them and Echo’s mind spun. Sitting was a bad idea. Nothing to distract him meant more racing thoughts and those thoughts meant more constriction in his lungs, and if he couldn’t breathe then what was he supposed to-
“Look,” Crosshair urged with a tap of his pencil on the page. Another instruction didn’t come, instead he waited while Echo blinked the stinging emotion out of his eyes and tilted his head until he could see what was being pointed out to him. On the page was the beginning stages of what looked like their ship. There were a few spots where it was clear Crosshair had to erase and redraw but the lines were strong and confident, details already littering the page. The entire drawing was about half way done but he wasn’t sure if Crosshair liked to do more than sketch. Crosshair used his pencil to trace along lines he’d already created, pointing out what he wanted. “It’s more cramped than I’d like it to be but I finally got the whole ship to fit on one page. See, there’s the window to the cockpit and the partial view of the gunner’s mount.” He put the lead to paper again and started adding some details to the wings. A few lines were added to detail the little dent on the wing facing them. Echo took in a deep breath in time with the pencil and let it out, feeling the ache in his gut lessen.
Echo pointed to the page with his scomp. “It looks good. Don’t forget to add the paint splatter from Wrecker’s mishap.” His voice came out scratchy, as if sandpaper was wrapped around his throat, but Crosshair paid it no mind. He hummed, adding the outline for the splatter, then moving on to shade in some of the underside. Echo watched and his fear drifted by. There was something hypnotizing about that pencil, the way it sounded as it scratched along the paper. The panic gave way to frustration and Echo had to wrap his arms around himself to attempt to soothe it away. He’d inserted himself without thinking enough about it and now he was intruding, already making suggestions, why couldn’t he just-
Crosshair let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Your brain runs as much as your mouth, huh?” He asked. Rude. Echo rolled his eyes, looking away.
“I’m sorry. It was just…” The dreams. He should go back to bed. No, not back to bed. Going back to bed would be a bad idea. He should… he should leave Crosshair alone at least, do something else.
”No need to spill your guts.” Crosshair stretched, shifting until his leg was resting firmly against Echo’s. “Not yet, anyway.” Echo swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and tried to focus on the constant pressure instead. Crosshair went back to drawing confident lines on the page, tipping the book towards Echo to ask about how it looked every so often. It was kind of odd, sitting in the dim light watching Crosshair draw a damn good sketch of their ship, but that feeling was less discomfort and more adjustment. He didn’t close his eyes again, not that night, but he considered it when fatigue yanked at his bones once more. He preferred to be up anyway, watching, whispering suggestions, anything to keep his thoughts from spiraling back to the darkness that lined them.
