Kingsford
17-01-2004, 01:54
ALOTION, KN
Dec. 24th
The snow roared down on the pitch as the teams took the field. Every one of the 42,477 seats in Alotion International Stadium were filled with excited fans. The Uppurmaen Cup was ending, and it was the finals. The home team and defending champions, Alotion FC, took on the undefeated Arms United for the league championship. The fans were on their feet as the home team tapped the ball and started the clock. The pitch, almost no green left resembling, was surrounded by a myriad of supporters, each shouting words of encouragement at the players at the top of their lungs. The black sky was pierced by the glaring lights that shone down on the snow, making it sparkle. The ball, colored orange for snow play, skidded rapidly in part to the artificial turf and the white blanket that covered the pitch. Everything was going well, everyone was watching, along with the millions tuned into Channel 7. All of the sudden, tragedy struck.
A fireball enveloped one section of the stadium, as the supports crumbled and the spectators screamed and dove for their lives. Before anyone else could guess what was going on, another erupted in the section next to it. Then another, and another, before the supports for the entire stadium lay a burning ruin. The flames licked the metal and concrete as the snow ironically contrasted with the rubble. What was once a television broadcast had become a selection of brightly colored bars. What was once a football match had become a catastrophe. What was once loud had become silent.
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As always, comments, questions, or random insults and critiques are welcomed.
Dec. 24th
The snow roared down on the pitch as the teams took the field. Every one of the 42,477 seats in Alotion International Stadium were filled with excited fans. The Uppurmaen Cup was ending, and it was the finals. The home team and defending champions, Alotion FC, took on the undefeated Arms United for the league championship. The fans were on their feet as the home team tapped the ball and started the clock. The pitch, almost no green left resembling, was surrounded by a myriad of supporters, each shouting words of encouragement at the players at the top of their lungs. The black sky was pierced by the glaring lights that shone down on the snow, making it sparkle. The ball, colored orange for snow play, skidded rapidly in part to the artificial turf and the white blanket that covered the pitch. Everything was going well, everyone was watching, along with the millions tuned into Channel 7. All of the sudden, tragedy struck.
A fireball enveloped one section of the stadium, as the supports crumbled and the spectators screamed and dove for their lives. Before anyone else could guess what was going on, another erupted in the section next to it. Then another, and another, before the supports for the entire stadium lay a burning ruin. The flames licked the metal and concrete as the snow ironically contrasted with the rubble. What was once a television broadcast had become a selection of brightly colored bars. What was once a football match had become a catastrophe. What was once loud had become silent.
----------
As always, comments, questions, or random insults and critiques are welcomed.