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wutaibandit · 5 years

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Burden Bound.

Several hours had passed since the capture of his hostage, it was nothing more than a job and a reminder to Noctis that he was human, and pain was inevitable to even royalty. A humiliating lesson to be learned now that Noctis had been isolated away from his family, home and friends—no-one could help him now.

The sunlight now pierced through the canopy of trees which surrounded the small remote locale that Marthe had chosen to be their home for the fore coming days, weeks or months, pending upon how cooperative his ransom demands would be. If he made any at all, then there would be other interests in Noctis's enemies he could exploit—picking a location where his power would be moot, inaccessible, and useless, all had also factored into the bandit's decision— far away from any who would side nor wish to help him either. It were an outlandish region in the Cleigne region of Lucis, dry in ether and magic where it refused to cooperate due to a Magitek Jammer that the Imperials had installed. Now, this scar was a blatant message that life was very dangerous even in the comforts of one’s own home.

Had his captive roused?

The corners of his lips turned down at that thought.

Booted feet came to a dominant halt just outside of the room that had kept his prisoner secure. Reaching toward the closed door; deft fingers delved into the leather overalls of his clothing to pilfer a key from the confines, plucking the metallic object from its confines to slot into the hole, twisting it sharply to unlock the door. Worn hinges whined in protest to the bandit’s entrance, breaking light into the darkened room which held nothing but thick-stone walls and a lone body propped against the opposing surface. The bound prince laid there with legs stretched before himself, slowly coming around to the world, once again with grogginess clearly from the impact of being rendered unconscious earlier. The after-effects from the stun-stem in his system would had left a residue, too, despite Marthe giving Noctis the antidote whilst he was out cold. He didn't want a dead prince for a captive, now.

Ears perked at a few soft muffled groans coming from the bound male at his immediate side. Sauntering into the room gingerly with light footfalls, he glanced at the prince, who looked to finally be regaining consciousness. “Morning sunshine. Got some bad news for ya: they ain't comin' for ya—nobody is.” Sassy syllables filtered out to the awakening captive aware of his current predicament now. “Whad'ya think? I think I pulled off the kidnapping rather well. Sorry 'bout hitting you earlier, well, I kind of lied about that part.” The corners of his lips pulled into a coy smile, lacing gloved appendages behind his crown flashing a cheeky grin at the helpless prince seated in the dark confines of the room. Blue visionaries locked a moment with the others, and noted the look of utter frustration and contempt those eyes held towards the rebel individual.

A large bruise was evident across the ashen pigmentation of the heir's ashen skin from where the thief had punched his captive query, tarnishing his chin where the brunt of the violent blow had left its mark, leaving a bloody trail of dried blood from the lower lip. Marthe sighed and patted the royal heir on the shoulder lightly. “Oh come on, don’t look at me like that. It's just a job, and you just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time, buddy." The hazel-haired bandit could hear naught but the disjointed sounds emerging from his prisoner. Lifting a playful smile to cross the cheeky-thief's disposition gleaming at Noctis's uncomfortable state, more so than normal; given that Noctis were a Prince, and to see him drawn down to such humiliation were a prize itself.

Pivoting around to crouch before his captive audience, knees bent to allow the bandit to sit proudly upon the haunches of laced boots as his loose-leather attire matched his stance to meet the level of his captivated query eye-to-eye. "Comfy there?" Sarcasm bled into his baritone. It was an impossible notion, especially considering he was laying on the floor. His arms were pressed firmly against his ribcage, wrists bound tightly behind his back in thick twine rope and at the ankles. "Oh, and don't bother tryin' to use yer' powers—they won't work here pal. Not for miles around this area but I guess a dim-witted Prince can always try as ya fell right into my lil' "act" back there in Lestallum." Marthe rubbed salt fresh into the wound without waiting. "Go ahead; I dare ya..." He goaded; smirking deviously to boot to see if he would be stupid and desperate enough to try.

Unfortunately for Noctis; the bandit were telling the truth for THIS time. It didn't mean he couldn't enjoy the look of despair and desperation on his face though.

“Don't presume me a fool, jus' cause I'm a thief—I thought this through well, and know all 'bout those funky powers you hold. Luckily, we're in a secluded spot right here with the Imperials usin' fancy contraptions, and nobody here even cares about royalty to want to help a snotty brat like you. Yer' all alone here, Noct-o...even if carryin' you all this way in secret without some Imperial patrol spottin' us wasn't the easiest of tasks!” Marthe hinted on the name of the bound prince. Knowing who his true identity were and how much he had waited to finally come face-to-face with the blood heir to the throne. He hadn’t needed to maintain direct eye contact with the Lucian male to notice the slight tremble shake the previously sturdy foundations of the man’s body language, fracture initiated almost as soon as he began to mention how vulnerable and alone Noctis was now away from the safety of his own Kingdom. Nevertheless, he chose not to reveal too much about the location to Noctis—at least, not for now.

“You’ll learn yer' place.” He muttered, stretched both limbs in the air to signify a forced yawn to expel from between pallid lips, lowering his hands to rest behind his head once again, lacing the gloved appendages into the chestnut tresses. “You’ll have to, if you want to avoid a smack on yer' lil' chin again. Want me to knock ya out, or will you behave, hmn?” It wasn't a rhetorical question. Threat simmering; gloved palms clasped together in front of himself, popping the knuckles to signify his threat if Noctis provoked him, finally allowing a hint of amusement to replace its previous sharpness, a subtle warning was issued. Noctis had only awakened to figure that one out himself—gesturing tauntingly toward the blackened pigmentation of the royal male's jaw, hidden behind the tendrils of bemused black-hair.

#bladesandkittens #(Burden Bound #(Hope this is alright for ya Nocto

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azvolrien · 7 years

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The Hawk Steppes - Chapter Two

ROUND TWO LET’S GO

~~~

“She really wasn’t kidding when she said a lot of the miners suffered from dust lung,” said Rhona, flipping through her notebook. “I’ve given all of them at least a preliminary check; about a third of the workforce have it severely, and almost all of the rest have at least mild symptoms.” She shook her head. “It’s not that I don’t know how to deal with it, but I’ll have to remove the dust build-up from their lungs before I can heal the damage it’s caused, and that’ll use up most of the medicine I brought with me even after I work out the best way to actually administer it. I hope you’re growing those constructs without susceptibility to it!”

Calburn nodded, leaning on the wall of their shared office. “Yeah, I’ve given them a sort of filtration system in their airways; there are these little… sort of hairs, like, that catch the dust in their nostrils and pass it back out before it reaches their lungs. I had to jury-rig some extra flasks out of old water tanks, though – Kedran wanted a batch of twelve to start with, and you know I only brought the one flask. At least I brought the ingredients for plenty of spell-fluid…”

“Which are what, exactly?” asked Rhona. “They supplied it ready-made at the College when I grew Tyren – they never told me what it was actually made of.”

“Yeah, the composition is journeyman-level stuff,” said Calburn, tucking his thumbs into his belt. “It’s mostly water, to be honest, but you need to get the proportions of the other ingredients right even before you cast the spells. Some salts, a smidge of fat-”

“A smidge?”

“Technical term,” said Calburn, nodding. “Various metals. A bit of blood plasma.”

Rhona froze for a moment and slowly looked up. “Blood plasma?”

“Only a little bit,” Calburn assured her. “Even Vrand’s flask only had about half a pint in it, and you know how massive he is.”

“You know, I think I’m quite glad they didn’t tell me that when I was an apprentice. But wait, didn’t we all add a few drops of blood to the flasks back then? Red blood, not just plasma?”

“That’s just if you’re linking a construct to a particular person.”

“I… see.” Rhona set her notebook down, linked her fingers, and stretched both arms above her head. “Have you started growing those constructs yet?”

“Yeah, they should be ready to decant in, mmm, about ten days.”

“Can you see if you can make some prototype breath masks while they’re growing? I think that’ll be the best way to stop the miners’ lungs getting any worse once they go back to work.” Calburn nodded. “Great. C’mon, let’s go see if that courier brought any letters for us.”

The mine was too isolated to have frequent access to the Imperial Postal Service, but the owners had arranged for a courier to arrive once a week with both official correspondence and personal mail, which the mine secretary sorted into different pigeonholes for each worker. Calburn’s was still empty when they arrived at the office, but a couple of sealed envelopes waited for Rhona.

“My sister,” she said by means of explanation, waving one of the envelopes as they both sat down on the wrought-iron bench outside the office. “Said she’d write every week… Wasn’t aware she’d meant it quite so literally.”

“My parents wanted to, but I talked them down to writing once a month,” said Calburn.

“And this other one’s actually addressed to both of us.”

Calburn peered at the envelope, its address written in carefully-neat capitals. “That’s Wy’s ‘I’m trying to be legible’ handwriting, isn’t it?”

Rhona slit the envelope open and unfolded the letter. “They’re still on parental leave from the College,” she said as she read through it. “Though Fayn’s back on her feet now – good, you know how worried he was about her. Says the baby’s doing fine, too.”

“Gods.” Calburn folded his hands behind his head. “I’m happy for them, but it’s still so weird to think of Wygar married with a kid. I mean… Wygar.”

“I know,” said Rhona. “You’re probably quicker listing the people our age he hasn’t slept with. Still, you’ve only got to see him with Fayn to know how much she means to him. They’re always touching each other,” she added with a hint of distaste.

“Come on, it’s kind of cute.”

“…Yeah, it is.”

Hooves drummed against the ground outside the mine perimeter, and they both glanced up. A lone rider approached from the nomad camp at a swift canter.

“Must be the kid Kedran mentioned,” said Calburn as the rider reined in her stocky dun-coloured horse and swung herself down from the saddle. “Here to keep an eye on us, I suppose.” He shrugged and looked back at the letter.

Rhona frowned and nudged him lightly in the side as the young nomad adjusted the horse’s bridle. “Look at her,” she said, almost under her breath. “Notice anything unusual?”

Calburn made a thoughtful sound. “Actually,” he said, “now that you mention it…”

The girl looked no older than her mid-teens, and in most respects she resembled any other nomad tribeswoman of the Hawk Steppes: she had the same golden-brown skin, dark, almond-shaped eyes, and a complex pattern tattooed across her cheekbones in black ink. A quiver of arrows hung from her belt, while a recurve bow was slung across her back. Her braided hair, however, was a sunny blonde where most nomads had brown or black, and her ears were long and pointed.

“I knew there are elfin nomads,” mused Calburn. “But I didn’t know there are any, like, in the tribes, with the tattoos and everything.”

“Clearly there’s at least one,” said Rhona. The girl’s ears were slightly different to Wygar’s or Stormlord Halleth’s; where their ears pointed upwards, hers slanted back at more of an angle.

As they watched, the girl paused in her harness check and frowned over at them. “What are you staring at?”

“Uh…” Calburn hastily lowered his hand away from his ear.

“Just wondering,” said Rhona quickly. “I don’t think this place gets many visitors. What’s your name?”

The girl pushed her shoulders back proudly. “Roxana Ernakyin Yaigani, tribal liaison,” she said, enunciating the last word very firmly. The mask of self-importance slipped a fraction and she tilted her head curiously. “What about you? I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“New hires!” Calburn gave Rhona’s back an affectionate slap, making her hunch forwards for an instant. “Rhona here’s a Healer; she’s helping the miners with their dust lung. I’m here to replace the pit ponies.”

Roxana looked him up and down. “How many mine carts can you pull?”

“Very funny,” said Calburn as Rhona pressed her knuckles against her mouth. “I mean I make constructs. You know, like, fake animals.”

“So what happens to the ponies afterwards?” asked Roxana.

“Good question,” said Calburn after a long silence.

“If your band is willing to take them, I’m sure Overseer Kedran would let them go,” said Rhona. “If not… Well.” She raised her eyebrows meaningfully.

Roxana scowled, wrinkling her nose. “I’ll check on the ponies,” she said. “And after that… I’ll have a word with Ernak.”

“Who’s Ernak?” whispered Calburn as Roxana purposefully led her horse away.

“Nobody we’ve met, certainly,” said Rhona, and looked back at Wygar’s letter. A flash of motion caught her eye and she glanced back up just as a rat scurried across the yard into the shadows. “Unrelatedly,” she said slowly, “I need to speak with whoever’s in charge of pest control here.”

They grew used to seeing Roxana around over the next few days. Although she returned to her band’s camp each night, almost every day found her wandering around the mine, inspecting the pit ponies’ stables, studying the enormous hoist that raised and lowered the cages, getting in the way of the shift captains, and generally making a nuisance of herself until Kedran banned her from the pit head. More than once, the wizards caught her in their workrooms, rifling through their notes and looking curiously at Calburn’s construct flasks, but she never asked any questions. Almost two weeks after their arrival at the mine, when the first batch of constructs was almost ready to decant, she showed up sporting what looked very like burn marks on her forearms, but defensively refused to answer any questions about them.

Rhona put the young elf out of her mind and turned her attention back to the problem at hand, leaning thoughtfully on her desk. Her latest patient was responding well to the course of treatment, but was it really the most efficient method of medication?

The surgery door creaked open behind her.

“Hello, Roxana,” said Rhona without looking up.

“Uh. How’d you know it was me?”

“Process of elimination,” said Rhona. “Everyone else knocks. And I could hear your breathing. Every teacher at the College has had practice with apprentices trying to sneak up on them, trust me.”

“Right. Um… can I- What are you doing to that rat?”

Rhona tapped a fingernail against the wire cage. “Experimenting,” she said. “Even the rats around here have dust lung, so they make good test subjects for possible treatments before I give any to the miners. This spray nozzle here administers the potion in a fine mist, which the rat then inhales. It gets rid of the dust in the creature’s lungs, after which my healing can repair the damage the dust has inflicted on the organs. It’s working on the rat, but a human may need a larger dose. Perhaps some kind of steam room would work.” She turned around to lean on the back of her chair. “You wanted to ask something?”

Roxana took a deep breath. “My band calls me Roxy,” she said after holding the breath for a few moments.

“That’s not really a question, but all right.”

“No, I mean – that’s what I’m usually called. I prefer it, to be honest.”

“Fair enough.”

Roxy sighed and fiddled with the end of her long braid. “Miz Rhona… How did you become a witch?”

Rhona blinked. “I am not a witch,” she said. “I’m a wizard.”

“But I thought – so, it’s not a man-woman thing?”

“No, it’s not.” Rhona took her glasses off and wiped the lenses clean of dust. “A wizard is somebody with formal training in the use of magic to one degree or another. Witches are self-taught, or learned through an informal apprenticeship of some kind. Neither term is gender-specific. Nor is there any judgement involved, snobbery aside – I’ve known some extremely skilled and powerful witches, and some downright useless wizards. As to how I became a wizard, Stormhaven law requires every child of magical ability to study at our College of Sorcery for a minimum of four years, starting from age twelve, though there are also options for people who come into their powers later in life.”

Roxy swallowed hard and looked at the floor for a moment. “So, so… If a wizard is someone with formal training, and a witch is someone with informal training… What do you call someone with magic but no training at all?”

“A liability,” said Rhona drily. She put her glasses back on and caught Roxy’s crestfallen expression. “The general term for a person with magical ability, regardless of training,” she continued, “is ‘mage’.” She clasped her hands and propped her chin on her knuckles. “But somehow I don’t think this is really a conversation about terminology, is it? I take it this is connected to those burns on your arms.”

“No one else in my band has magic,” said Roxy in a very small voice. “I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried testing things out, practising by myself, but…”

Rhona nodded. “I take it you’re listening, Calburn?” she said, raising her voice.

“The walls aren’t very thick here,” he said from his workshop in the next room. A couple of seconds passed and he let himself into the surgery, sidling around the room to leave the door open behind Roxy. “Thing about the College,” he said, sitting on the edge of Rhona’s desk, “if you make it to Journeyman rank… it gives you a duty to teach and protect inexperienced mages wherever you find them, whenever you find them. When you’re a Master, even more so. Rhona and me? We’re both Masters.”

“Speak to whoever’s in charge over at your camp,” said Rhona. “Either you can hang around here in the evenings, or we can come over to your place for some lessons.”

“…Then you’ll help?” asked Roxy.

“Everyone’s magic is slightly different,” said Rhona, “so I can’t swear to exactly how much we’ll be able to help, but we will teach you to control your abilities at the very least.”

“And if we can’t help you to master them, then you can be damn sure we’ll put you in touch with someone who can,” said Calburn.

Roxy’s breathing shook a little; without another word, she simply nodded, backed out of the surgery, and ran off.

“Well,” said Calburn once the sound of her footsteps had faded. “Guess we’ve acquired an evening job.”

The following dusk found them both riding across the open grassland towards the nomad camp. As their constructs galloped closer, they could see that the tents alone, each with its own campfire and gathered loosely around a large central hearth, only formed one part of the encampment: gradually a dark, shifting mass on the other side of the tents resolved into a huge herd of cattle, more than a hundred of the beasts, and a smaller group of horses of all shapes and sizes.

At the edge of the tents, a tribesman blocked their path with an outstretched spear and, with his other hand, blew three short blasts on a wooden whistle. Calburn glanced at Rhona and clambered down from Mostol’s saddle, wrapping the big construct’s reins around one hand. After a moment, Rhona dismounted Tyren and murmured for her to follow.

“Think we’re expected,” said Calburn, waving a hand to include both himself and Rhona. “Roxy invited us over to give her a few magic lessons.”

“That’s right, I did,” said Roxy, jogging up behind the guard. “It’s all right, you can let them in – Ernak knows they’re coming.” The guard nodded and lowered his spear. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

Most of the camp had turned out for a look at the visitors. Although Roxy had referred to the nomads as her ‘band’, there were far more of them than the word implied: none of the tents seemed to house any fewer than five people, and some closer to ten. One curious child reached out to pat Mostol’s flank as he lumbered past, recoiling at some hissed order from her father. Several more stared at Tyren in open bafflement; although Mostol could almost have passed for some kind of bison, long-tailed, two-legged Tyren was like no beast of burden the nomads had ever seen.

Any other elves, however, were conspicuous in their absence.

Roxy waved for them to stop next to the camp’s central hearth. Mostol, always a little more intelligent than most constructs, grunted and took the initiative to sit down behind his master. Tyren remained standing, the granite pebble in her forehead glittering in the firelight.

Roxy cleared her throat. “Calburn, Rhona – this is Ernak Okranir Yaigani, the leader of our band. Ernak, these are the wizards I told you about.”

Ernak stood up from his place by the fire. Dark of eye and hair, he was a compact man – no taller than Rhona – but his shoulders were broad and his arms, left bare by his sleeveless leather vest, were well-muscled and marked with tattoos similar to those across his cheekbones. Over the vest, he wore a hooded cloak fashioned from the spotted pelt of a steppe lion, its head resting atop his own and its forelegs tied in a knot across his chest. For a few seconds, he just looked the wizards up and down, much like Roxy had, before he grasped them by the forearms and kissed them each on the cheek in turn.

Calburn blinked. Rhona stiffened, holding her breath for a moment.

“You are welcome in my camp and at my fire,” said Ernak formally, holding both arms out wide. He lowered his arms, apparently not expecting a hug, and went on less formally. “Magic’s never been all that common on the Steppes,” he explained. “Don’t know why. But it means Roxy’s been about turning herself inside out worrying about it.” He draped an arm around Roxy’s shoulders and hugged her against his side. “Yeah, don’t think I haven’t noticed,” he added to her. “C’mon, we’ve set up a little practice area for you.”

It turned out to be a small campfire, set apart from the tents and fenced off to stop the cattle wandering too close. A couple of coarse blankets had been laid out on the bare earth around the fire.

“Right, here goes,” said Rhona once she, Calburn and Roxy had all sat down by the fire. “Magic. At its heart, magic is about energy. What sets mages apart from other people is that we can redirect, convert and amplify that energy to cast our spells and manipulate the world around us, but even so everyone’s magic is slightly different.”

“Not everyone can do everything,” put in Calburn.

Rhona nodded. “For example – I’m a skilled Healer, but I can’t open portals. Calburn here is one of the best Constructists alive, but he’ll never be a Seer. A friend of ours is a terrifying force of nature on the battlefield, but he can’t heal to save himself.”

“Literally!” said Calburn. “But despite all that, there are a few things that all mages can do, which makes them good practice for someone just starting out.” He cracked his knuckles one by one and shook his hands out. “Let’s start with a witchlight. Focus – it might help to close your eyes the first time – and find that energy inside you. Draw a little of it out, and will it to convert to light.” He held one hand out flat, palm up; after an instant, a little ball of white-gold light appeared, hovering above his hand. “See?”

Roxy clenched both fists in front of her and screwed up her face in concentration. After almost a minute, a tiny, unsteady pinprick of light flickered above her hands.

“Hm,” said Rhona, frowning.

Roxy opened one eye a crack. “I did it!”

“Yes…” said Rhona slowly, studying the burns still visible on Roxy’s forearms.

Roxy’s smile faded. “What?” She looked down at her light, just before it vanished altogether. “Oh… It was too small, wasn’t it?”

“Small’s good for a first time,” Calburn quickly assured her. “It makes it much less likely that you’ll lose control.”

She sighed. “Maybe I’m just not powerful enough.”

“The amount of energy that a mage can control – that is, their power – is considered innate,” said Rhona, still frowning. “Practice can help you to do great things with what you have – I’m not especially powerful, but my experience has let me hone my abilities to do some very fine healing work, more than a lot of more powerful Healers can – but where power is concerned, either you have it or you don’t. That little witchlight would suggest that… Well, that you’re barely powerful enough to be considered a mage.”

“Oh.” Roxy looked down at her hands.

Calburn scowled at Rhona, and she carried on. “Which raises the question of how you managed to burn yourself like that.”

“Huh?”

“You did those by conjuring a flame, yes?” said Rhona, pointing towards the marks on Roxy’s forearms. “Trying to experiment by yourself?”

“Well… yeah.”

“Remind you of anyone?” murmured Calburn.

“So,” said Rhona, staring into space, “if you can hardly conjure a witchlight, how did you manage to conjure a flame strong enough to do that to yourself?”

Roxy rubbed one of her forearms. “I dunno.”

Calburn drummed his fingers on his knee for a few seconds. “Wygar,” he said suddenly.

“What about him?” asked Rhona.

“That thing he does with the glowing eyes.”

“Yes?”

“No, listen, I’m getting to something here. Roxy!”

Roxy sniffed. “Yeah?”

“All right, firstly – don’t cry. Rhona doesn’t mean anything by it, she just doesn’t always account for people’s feelings when she’s in lesson mode.”

“Hey!”

“Shush, Rho, you know it’s true. Right. Look for energy again, but this time – look out, not in. See the campfire there? There’s a big pile of light and heat for you to use. Take a little of that, and turn it into a witchlight.”

Roxy took a deep breath, bowed her head, and stretched out one hand towards the fire. For a brief moment, nothing happened, before a fist-sized, painfully bright witchlight flared into existence above her fingers and hovered there, glowing steadily. Cautiously, she raised her head, revealing the brilliant golden-white light in her eyes.

Rhona’s jaw dropped. Calburn folded his arms and grinned smugly. “Elves,” he said by means of an explanation.

Rhona closed her mouth and swallowed. “Well. That… That explains a few things.” She pressed a fist against her lips and coughed. “Congratulations, Roxana Ernakyin Yaigani. You are very definitely a mage.”

~~~

Calburn can be a bit of a goof, but he’s actually very good at what he does and a lot more perceptive than he’s often given credit for.

#az writes stories

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365footballorg-blog · 6 years

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Armchair Analyst: Your complete guide to the Week 18 MLS slate

June 29, 201812:54PM EDT

The World Cup group stage is over and there are, as we speak, a cadre of MLS players winging back home. None of them will play this weekend, but most will play again soon.

Let’s dive into Week 18:

Friday Forecast

Minnesota United FC vs. FC Dallas

8 pm ET | Match Preview | TV & streaming info

Let’s forget the Loons for a second because we know all about them at this point (they’ll play a 4-2-3-1, they’ll be soft at central midfield, they’ll be disorganized at the back and Darwin Quintero can ball). There’s just not much left to explore.

There’s a bit more to unpack about FC Dallas, who could be on the verge of entering the post-Mauro Diaz era. The Magic Little Unicorn™ is, according to reports from multiple outlets, on his way out, with his landing spot said to be Shabab Al-Ahli Dubai FC in Dubai. It seems credible and it seems very close to final, and that means Dallas are going to have to find a new way to define themselves as an attacking club.

Because since his arrival in 2013, that was Diaz’s job (when he was healthy, which was not often enough). He was/is/has been a throwback No. 10, built in the Valderrama mode – find the ball at midfield, avoid a challenge, then release a throughball to put the Dallas wingers into space, or to put a forward through on goal. When he was on the field Dallas pretty much always had the answer to “How do we move the ball into the attacking third and get dangerous?” and, because of that skillset, it was worth adjusting the rest of the team to account for Diaz’s individual weaknesses.

To put a point on it: He was literally the best player for the best team in FC Dallas history (the 2016 Supporters’ Shield/U.S. Open Cup double winners), and was their best player so far this season as well.

When he’s not been on the field the last five years, Dallas have struggled. There were times when “sit deep and counter through Fabian Castillo” worked pretty well and, early last year, “Let Kellyn Acosta spray to the flanks” had its moments. But Castillo’s long gone and Acosta’s not the guy he was 12 months ago, and there’s a reasonable concern that this team could suddenly be short of ideas.

There are, at this point, three possibilities as direct replacements for Diaz on the roster:

Roland Lamah: The Belgian veteran has low-key had a nice season (6g/4a in 1000 minutes), and was part of one of the most interesting tactical wrinkles of the season from Dallas when Oscar Pareja moved him off the flank and into a No. 10 role, while Diaz was shifted wide to the left. It was bizarre and I thought it wouldn’t work, but it did – really, really well. Lamah doesn’t have the passing vision of a pure playmaker, but if Dallas want to go pure counterattack, using him underneath the center forward would be a very reasonable choice in large part because his movement and speed would disrupt opposing defensive midfielders (they’d have to drop deeper just to track him, which would cause dislocation in their own shape).

Santiago Mosquera: The Colombian, acquired this offseason, hasn’t been great (1g/3a in 700 minutes), but has shown flashes of the talent that made Dallas decide to go out and get him in the first place. His movement isn’t as sophisticated as Lamah’s, but his vision’s better and he’s a more natural central player. He’s also arguably more of a modern No. 10 than Diaz, in that he absolutely will push up into the 18 and get his fair share of looks. At the same time he’s nowhere near the same kind of through-ball artist – who is, really?

Mosquera has been rehabbing, but he did travel this weekend. And long-term, he’s probably the best bet to take this spot.

Paxton Pomykal: The 18-year-old has been dominant in his age group, but has had too many injuries and too few minutes to become an effective pro as of yet. If he’d been getting minutes for a USL team the past two years, perhaps he’d be more ready to take on a larger role, but FCD have yet to make the investment in their own affiliate (though – good news, everybody – Dallas TD Fernando Clavijo once again confirmed they’d have their own USL club starting next year).

Pomykal might not be a No. 10, anyway. He’s often looked more comfortable on the flank, and sometimes as a No. 8. And as a passer he’s looked more of a zone-mover rather than a chance creator. Who he really is as a pro is a very open-ended question.

And that’s true of FC Dallas as a team at this point. Up until last week they’d lost just twice all season across all competitions. Now they’ve lost twice in a week, shipping six goals and scoring just twice, and lost their best player. I absolutely understand why they’ll sell Diaz – this is a business for one, and for two they learned to their detriment last year that holding on to players for too long can/will have long-term fatal consequences on a their season.

But they’ve got some problems to solve now. There’s hope that the answers can come from within, but nothing in this life’s guaranteed.

Saturday Slate

Seattle Sounders vs. Portland Timbers

4:30 pm ET | Match Preview | TV & streaming info

Portland took care of the home/easy part of their schedule, and over the past two games have edged into the more difficult run of games. A scoreless home draw against Sporting was fine; a 1-1 draw at Atlanta United last weekend was better than that. Another result would run their unbeaten streak to 10 games (12 in all competitions), and it’s because of their defense.

I can’t sum it up better than this:

Gio’s Timbers have shown themselves to be a really effective reactive team. They’ve limited and countered ATL, NYFC, and LAFC — some of the best attacks in MLS this year.

They haven’t shown they can impose themselves on an opponent and dominate, though. #RCTID

— Chris Rifer (@ChrisRifer) June 24, 2018

Are the Sounders a team they want to try to impose themselves upon, on the road? I doubt it. Seattle’s too inviting a target to counter against given their lack of mobility in central defense and the way they throw their fullbacks way upfield. Expect more of the same from Portland (though with Sebastian Blanco coming off a knock, it’s an open question as to whether or not their three-man attack will be as effective as it was through April and May).

Atlanta United vs. Orlando City SC

7 pm ET | Match Preview | TV & streaming info

Atlanta United are going to miss Darlington Nagbe. Our Ben Baer broke down what the US international has brought to the Five Stripes this year, and it’s not been insignificant. His ability to hold onto the ball has remained elite, and Tata Martino has turned that into a weapon.

My guess is they compensate by moving Julian Gressel into the No. 8 role, shifting back to the 4-2-3-1 Martino prefers, and finally getting Tito Villalba into the XI.

For Orlando City… I don’t know. They’ve played two games under interim head coach Bobby Murphy and both times it’s been a back five rather than the back four everybody’s gotten used to. I’m not sure how much he could or should change, and to be honest I’m nowhere near convinced that the formation has been the problem. Bottom line is that no matter who’s been on the field for the Purple Lions, and where, it’s felt, looked and played like a series of individuals rather than a collective.

Notice how Sané slows down. He needs to be sprinting to his spot so he can open his body toward the field. He doesn’t & he doesn’t and you see what happens. It’s so poor technically and, quite frankly, just lazy and lets his team down. pic.twitter.com/KDI8f69TDH

— Bobby Warshaw (@bwarshaw14) June 24, 2018

Murphy’s not going to be able to fix that on an interim basis. They need a new, permanent head coach within the next week.

EDIT: As I wrote that, Paul Tenorio reported that they’re closing in on Louisville City’s head coach James O’Connor as the new boss. I haven’t watched a ton of Lou City this year, but the smart USL-watchers I speak with always name O’Connor first when I ask for their list of the best USL coaches, and as Portland’s Gio Savarese has proved this season, if you’re good at your job you can make the jump from the lower divisions into MLS pretty seamlessly.

Montreal Impact vs. Sporting KC

7:30 pm ET | Match Preview | TV & streaming info

The Impact have won three of four, and credit to them for that. But as with Orlando City’s good run a few months back, it’s important to pay attention to who they’re actually beating. In Montreal’s case it was the Dynamo reserves at the start of the month, and then a pair of wins over the death-spiraling Lions.

So enjoy the wins, but don’t get too far ahead of yourselves, my Quebecois friends.

Meanwhile, Daniel Salloi is developing into a star:

If the season ended today, Daniel Salloi would have the highest G+A per 90 among 21-yr old forwards of the past 11 seasons. Here he is next to the other 3 who finished above .7 over a whole season pic.twitter.com/DLkiJE9Ejd

— Kevin Minkus (@kevinminkus) June 28, 2018

Since Week 2 Sporting are 11-1-5 across all competitions with a +20 goal differential. If the Impact win this won, then we’ll start to talk.

Columbus Crew SC vs. Real Salt Lake

7:30 pm ET | Match Preview | TV & streaming info

Wil Trapp drops deep and splits the defenders. The fullbacks push up. Artur and Federico Higuain present second- and third-line passing options. Trapp sprays. And the machine hums.

That’s the rough sketch of the Columbus Crew SC system, which has propelled them up to fourth in the Eastern Conference. It’s been running smooth as ever from the back, but so far it’s been breaking down in the attacking third because their finishing has just not been good enough. Other than Gyasi Zardes, nobody on this team has more than a single open play goal.

As per Opt,a Columbus have generated 30.67 expected goals, and that’s translated to just 22 goals total. That means they’re underperforming by 8.67 goals, and only Seattle are in the neighborhood (11 goals on 17.05 expected) in terms of front-of-net profligacy. Nobody else in the league has underperformed by even half as much as Columbus.

Fortunately for Zardes et al, RSL’s 33.49 expected goals against is worst in the league, and that they’ve allowed 30 goals off of that, and that they have been particularly bad on the road (1-6-1, -15 GD).

Crew SC are winless in five, and are actually just 4-5-5 in their last 14 games. This will be their 11th home game of the season, and while I still like the way they’re playing and their defense has been rock solid… this is a must-win game for them, especially with five of the next seven on the road. They have to get three points.

New England Revolution vs. D.C. United

7:30 pm ET | Match Preview | TV & streaming info

The Revs are a lot like Columbus: They got off to a hot start in March and have been sort of scuffling along ever since. They’re 3-3-5 in their last 11 – 3-4-5 in all competitions – and the press that caused so much discomfort for so many at the start of the season has suddenly been at least a little bit gappy.

A month back, Columbus simply played over the press. In New England’s last outing, San Jose just played through it:

D.C. have the ability to do that, though they haven’t shown it much because they haven’t been able to comfortably push either fullback up the pitch (both sides of have been an issue, to put it mildly).

This is the start of a three-game homestand for New England, before they play five of six on the road. For D.C. we’re entering the very end of their unbalanced schedule, as this is the second-to-last road game before they open Audi Field in the middle of July.

United have some pretty big tactical fish to fry coming up, by the way.

Chicago Fire vs. New York City FC

8 pm ET | Match Preview | TV & streaming info

Since Dax McCarty and Luis Solignac got healthy a month back, Veljko Paunovic has mostly dropped the game-by-game adjustment cha-cha and have consistently played in a 4-3-3. Brandt Bronico has won a job beside McCarty and Bastian Schweinsteiger in central midfield, playing as a ground-eating, ball-moving No. 8 who does a bunch of unselfish running. Schweinsteiger’s been more of a pure playmaker than at any point in his recent career.

Here’s their network passing map, courtesy of Opta, from two games ago against Colorado:

Solignac (No. 9) has a different job than his opposite-side winger, Aleksandar Katai (No. 10). Katai stays high and is a pure attacker, while Chicago use Solignac’s non-stop engine to run endline-to-endline, drop into the middle to help defensively, and generally raise hell. His work allows the central midfield trio to stay compact.

The Fire have one win and three draws since making the switch, and have generally carried play against their opponents. NYCFC, even without the injured David Villa, is a very worthwhile measuring stick.

LAFC vs. Philadelphia Union

8 pm ET | Match Preview | TV & streaming info

I wrote a ton about the Union after last weekend’s impressive showing, and with Haris Medunjanin suspended, all of that stands. I’m planning to write a ton about LAFC this weekend, so let’s not dive in too deep here.

I’ll just leave it at this: Earlier in the year LAFC were getting goals based upon their ability to create space and chances via flowing, back-to-front moves in transition. That’s what happens when you have Carlos Vela and Marco Ureña on hand.

Without those guys, and with the additions of Lee Nguyen and Adama Diomande, they’ve become much more of a “quick combinations in the final third” type of team. So in part they’ve flipped their identity from “center forward creates space for the attacking midfielder and wingers against a stretched defense” to “attacking midfielder and wingers create chances for the center forward against a back-foot defense.”

San Jose Earthquakes vs. LA Galaxy

10 pm ET | Match Preview | TV & streaming info

Mikael Stahre has continued to tinker as he’s tried to figure out a workable formula for his Quakes. In recent weeks he’s stayed with some version of a 4-4-2, though at times it’s been closer to a 4-4-2 diamond and at other times it’s been a 4-1-3-2 and at other times it’s been an almost perfectly flat midfield four.

Always with the two up front, though, because Danny Hoesen is quietly having an All-Star caliber season, and while Chris Wondolowski isn’t (4g/3a in 1133 minutes), it’s not like anybody on the roster is making a compelling case to take his playing time away.

Amazingly, this is just LA’s fifth game against a team below the playoff line this season. So far they’re 3-1-0, which includes a 1-0 win over these Quakes a month back. And last time out, they dominated an RSL team that had been on a good run of form entering the game.

This was my favorite sequence of play from the Galaxy in that one:

LA’s midfielders have slowly figured out how to make dangerous, complementary runs off of Zlatan Ibrahimovic’s hold-up play, and there’s been genuine chemistry at times both on and off the ball. They’re 3-1-1 in their last five.

Sunday Doubleheader

Toronto FC vs. New York Red Bulls

4:30 pm ET | Match Preview | TV & streaming info

This one’s simple: RBNY are the highest, hardest-pressing team in MLS (and I’d say they’re the highest, hardest-pressing team in MLS history). They live off of turnovers, winning 50/50 balls all over the field and wearing teams out until they make a fatal mistake.

Toronto FC have been the sloppiest team in the league playing out of their own end, and have been one of the league’s worst defensive teams over the final 15 minutes of games. They looked and played exhausted in the second half last weekend against NYCFC, and if you do that against the Red Bulls you lose by 50.

Also remember that the last time these two teams met, in last year’s playoffs, Jesse Marsch entirely pulled off a bit of trickery by playing a 4-4-2 diamond with Tyler Adams at the point. The object wasn’t to have him be the playmaker, but for him to make Michael Bradley’s life a living hell and prevent any sort of meaningful distribution from the TFC lynchpin.

It worked. RBNY won the game and should’ve won the series. Only some poor finishing kept them from advancing.

Vancouver Whitecaps FC vs. Colorado Rapids

7 pm ET | Match Preview | TV & streaming info

The Rapids got their first win since April 14 last weekend, dominating 10-man MNUFC in the closing stages before Tommy Smith’s headed winner off a corner kick in stoppage time. It was a cathartic moment for a team that has not been good thus far in 2018.

“Cathartic” does not mean “corrective,” though. The issues that have plagued Colorado all season were still on display against the injured and short-handed Loons, and the one that’s been most decisive has been their inability to defend in space:

Darwin Quintero 1v1 against just about anyone is a mismatch. Quintero 1v1 against a retreating center back?

I don’t know why the Rapids aren’t more compact, and why their big CBs are asked, week after week, to make plays in the open field. These are plays they can’t make.

And so enter the Whitecaps, a team that can and will eviscerate you if you let them get into the open field. Last time these two teams met, at the start of the month… yup. And yup. And yup. And honestly it just keeps going.

The ‘Caps need to be patient and sharper than they were last weekend against Philly. As long as that happens, they’ll find chances.

One More Thing to Ponder

Happy weekending, everybody.

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Armchair Analyst: Your complete guide to the Week 18 MLS slate was originally published on 365 Football

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