Morgan Beaulieu | Toronto Reign

Morgan Beaulieu slowly roused when he felt his phone vibrating under his pillow. He blinked, his eyes heavy lidded and mostly closed as he fumbled for his phone. Muscle memory had his thumb sliding across the screen, declining the call. Too early. His sleep-addled mind had clearly decided. He closed his eyes again, only for his phone to immediately start vibrating again.

This time, Morgan answered it. “What?” He grumbled, not particularly caring who was on the other line. “This better be an emergency, calling this early.” His voice was gruff with sleep. His 7am alarm hadn’t even gone off yet and Morgan wasn’t exactly a morning person.

A familiar annoyed sigh came from the other line, “It’s 11:30, dumbass. You were supposed to be here at nine.” Hailey Bell’s voice deadpanned. Morgan’s eyes snapped open then, and he sat up looking at the time on his phone. 11:33am. Oh shit. The annual family skate day for charity was scheduled to start at noon, and with traffic... fuck, it was a nightmare to get to the arena from his apartment.

“Fuckfuckfuck.” He hissed, scrambling to get out of bed and nearly falling on his face when his feet got tangled in his duvet. “Yeah, yeah, I’m on my way.” Morgan stumbled towards his bathroom. He heard Hailey snort before he disconnected the call and tossed his phone onto the bathroom counter in his scramble to get ready - determined to make it at least a little bit on time. Maybe. Great job Captain. He could already hear the familiar barbs. He swore his punctuality had nothing to do with his ability to lead his team.

He made it to the arena in record time, in a (hopefully) clean Toronto Reign hoodie, and team issued pants. None of the staff were surprised to see him rushing past like he was trying to backcheck and stop a breakaway. He slowed down, stepping calmly into the Reign’s dressing room. Morgan’s face split into a grin when he heard the collective gasp of some very excited kids.

Hailey stood with her girlfriend, arching a brow as she watched Morgan approach. She held his jersey out to him, which he pulled on over his hoodie. “Zamboni’s just finishing. You’re lucky, Morgan.” She said, shaking her head in mock disapproval. He just winked at her, kissed her girlfriend’s cheek, and moved on towards his stall in the changeroom.

Morgan stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes landing on the figure sitting there tying their skates. They were easily the most attractive person he’d ever seen in his life, and they were sitting in his stall. Morgan didn’t consider himself a very superstitious person, but this had to mean something... even if ‘something’ was just some flirting before he hit the ice. Putting on his most charming smile, he stepped forward. “Sorry, I just have to reach past you...” He reached past them, getting a little waft of their fragrance, and grabbed his skates so he could put them on.

He sat beside them, balancing one of his skates between his thighs to work at the laces. Morgan glanced over, opening his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by a high voice, “Mister Beaulieu? Will you help me with my skates?” A little boy with big green eyes looked up at him with a face that Morgan just couldn’t say no to. Besides... being good with kids was attractive, right? He set his own skates to the side, picking up the boy and setting him down on the bench.

“Here, let me help you out, buddy.” Morgan said to the kid, glancing over to the attractive stranger to see if they were noticing. With practiced ease, Morgan laced up the kid’s skates hoping he wasn’t crushing his feet, “Is that tight enough?” He asked the boy who nodded with a crooked smile. Morgan signed his little jersey, and the boy was off with his father gushing about how Morgan Beaulieu tied my skates!

Morgan looked to the stranger, “Y’know, if you need yours tighter, I can— well well, looks like you don’t need my help.” He watched as they stood up, not quite able to stop his gaze from wandering down and back up again. “See you on the ice, then.” He flashed them another one of his smiles, which didn’t falter despite Hailey’s head shaking slowly in his periphery.

It was muscle memory, slipping on his skates and walking down the tunnel towards the ice which was already populated by fans and the team. He stepped onto the ice, pushing himself forward. He wove through the other skaters, the fresh bite of the ice waking him up. This was his element, out on the ice. Morgan’s fingers flexed, missing his stick.

As he neared the gate, he saw the hot stranger standing and hesitating to get out on the ice. He stopped in front of them, holding out his hand. “Need a hand?” Morgan smiled at them, “I won’t let you fall, I promise.” He tilted his head towards the ice in invitation.

Morgan Beaulieu slowly roused when he felt his phone vibrating under his pillow. He blinked, his eyes heavy lidded and mostly closed as he fumbled for his phone. Muscle memory had his thumb sliding across the screen, declining the call. Too early. His sleep-addled mind decided. He closed his eyes again, only for his phone to immediately start vibrating again.

This time, Morgan answered it. “What?” He grumbled, not particularly caring who was on the other line. “This better be an emergency, calling this early.” His voice was gruff with sleep. His 7am alarm hadn’t even gone off yet and Morgan wasn’t exactly a morning person.

A familiar annoyed sigh came from the other line, “It’s 11:30, dumbass. You were supposed to be here at nine.” Hailey Bell’s voice deadpanned. Morgan’s eyes snapped open then, and he sat up looking at the time on his phone. 11:33am. Oh shit. The annual family skate day for charity was scheduled to start at noon, and with traffic... fuck, it was a nightmare to get to the arena from his apartment.

“Fuckfuckfuck.” He hissed, scrambling to get out of bed and nearly falling on his face when his feet got tangled in his duvet. “Yeah, yeah, I’m on my way.” Morgan stumbled towards his bathroom. He heard Hailey snort before he disconnected the call and tossed his phone onto the bathroom counter in his scramble to get ready - determined to make it at least a little bit on time. Maybe. Great job Captain. He could already hear the familiar barbs. His punctuality had nothing to do with his ability to lead his team.

He made it to the arena in record time, in a (hopefully) clean Toronto Reign hoodie, and team issued pants. None of the staff were surprised to see him rushing past like he was trying to backcheck and stop a breakaway. He slowed down, stepping calmly into the Reign’s dressing room. Morgan’s face split into a grin when he heard the collective gasp of some very excited kids.

Hailey stood with her girlfriend, arching a brow as she watched Morgan approach. She held his jersey out to him, which he pulled on over his hoodie. “Zamboni’s just finishing. You’re lucky, Morgan.” She said, shaking her head in mock disapproval. He just winked at her, kissed her girlfriend’s cheek, and moved on towards his stall in the changeroom.

Morgan stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes landing on the woman sitting there tying her skates. She was easily the most attractive woman he’d ever seen in his life, and she was sitting in his stall. Morgan didn’t consider himself a very superstitious person, but this had to mean something... even if ‘something’ was just some flirting before he hit the ice. Putting on his most charming smile, he stepped forward. “Sorry, I just have to reach past you...” He reached past her, getting a little waft of her fragrance, and grabbed his skates so he could put them on.

He sat beside her, balancing one of his skates between his thighs to work at the laces. Morgan glanced over, opening his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by a high voice, “Mister Beaulieu? Will you help me with my skates?” A little boy with big green eyes looked up at him with a face that Morgan just couldn’t say no to. Besides... being good with kids was attractive, right? He set his own skates to the side, picking up the boy and setting him down on the bench.

“Here, let me help you out, buddy.” Morgan said to the kid, glancing over to the attractive woman to see if she was noticing. With practiced ease, Morgan laced up the kid’s skates hoping he wasn’t crushing his feet, “Is that tight enough?” He asked the boy who nodded with a crooked smile. Morgan signed his little jersey, and the boy was off with his father gushing about how Morgan Beaulieu tied my skates!

Morgan looked to the stranger, “Y’know, if you need yours tighter, I can— well well, looks like you don’t need my help.” He watched as she stood up, not quite able to stop his gaze from wandering down and back up again. “See you on the ice, then.” He flashed her another one of his smiles, which didn’t falter despite Hailey’s head shaking slowly in his periphery.

It was muscle memory, slipping on his skates and walking down the tunnel towards the ice which was already populated by fans and his team. He stepped onto the ice, pushing himself forward. He wove through the other skaters, the fresh bite of the ice waking him up. This was his element, out on the ice. Morgan’s fingers flexed, missing his stick.

As he neared the gate, he saw the hot woman standing and hesitating to get out on the ice. He stopped in front of her, holding out his hand. “Need a hand?” Morgan smiled at her, “I won’t let you fall, I promise.” He tilted his head towards the ice in invitation.

Morgan Beaulieu slowly roused when he felt his phone vibrating under his pillow. He blinked, his eyes heavy lidded and mostly closed as he fumbled for his phone. Muscle memory had his thumb sliding across the screen, declining the call. Too early. His sleep-addled mind had clearly decided. He closed his eyes again, only for his phone to immediately start vibrating again.

This time, Morgan answered it. “What?” He grumbled, not particularly caring who was on the other line. “This better be an emergency, calling this early.” His voice was gruff with sleep. His 7am alarm hadn’t even gone off yet and Morgan wasn’t exactly a morning person.

A familiar annoyed sigh came from the other line, “It’s 11:30, dumbass. You were supposed to be here at nine.” Hailey Bell’s voice deadpanned. Morgan’s eyes snapped open then, and he sat up looking at the time on his phone. 11:33am. Oh shit. The annual family skate day for charity was scheduled to start at noon, and with traffic... fuck, it was a nightmare to get to the arena from his apartment.

“Fuckfuckfuck.” He hissed, scrambling to get out of bed and nearly falling on his face when his feet got tangled in his duvet. “Yeah, yeah, I’m on my way.” Morgan stumbled towards his bathroom. He heard Hailey snort before he disconnected the call and tossed his phone onto the bathroom counter in his scramble to get ready - determined to make it at least a little bit on time. Maybe. Great job Captain. He could already hear the familiar barbs. His punctuality had nothing to do with his ability to lead his team.

He made it to the arena in record time, in a (hopefully) clean Toronto Reign hoodie, and team issued pants. None of the staff were surprised to see him rushing past like he was trying to backcheck and stop a breakaway. He slowed down, stepping calmly into the Reign’s dressing room. Morgan’s face split into a grin when he heard the collective gasp of some very excited kids.

Hailey stood with her girlfriend, arching a brow as she watched Morgan approach. She held his jersey out to him, which he pulled on over his hoodie. “Zamboni’s just finishing. You’re lucky, Morgan.” She said, shaking her head in mock disapproval. He just winked at her, kissed her girlfriend’s cheek, and moved on towards his stall in the changeroom.

Morgan stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes landing on the figure sitting there tying his skates. He was easily the most attractive person Morgan had ever seen in his life, and he was sitting in his stall. Morgan didn’t consider himself a very superstitious person, but this had to mean something... even if ‘something’ was just some flirting before he hit the ice. Putting on his most charming smile, he stepped forward. “Sorry, I just have to reach past you...” Morgan reached past him, getting a little waft of his fragrance, and grabbed his own skates so he could put them on.

Morgan sat beside him, balancing one of his skates between his thighs to work at the laces. Morgan glanced over, opening his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by a high voice, “Mister Beaulieu? Will you help me with my skates?” A little boy with big green eyes looked up at him with a face that Morgan just couldn’t say no to. Besides... being good with kids was attractive, right? He set his own skates to the side, picking up the boy and setting him down on the bench.

“Here, let me help you out, buddy.” Morgan said to the kid, glancing over to the hot guy to see if he was noticing. With practiced ease, Morgan laced up the kid’s skates hoping he wasn’t crushing his feet, “Is that tight enough?” He asked the boy who nodded with a crooked smile. Morgan signed his little jersey, and the boy was off with his father gushing about how Morgan Beaulieu tied my skates!

Morgan looked to the stranger, “Y’know, if you need yours tighter, I can— well well, looks like you don’t need my help.” He watched as he stood up, not quite able to stop his gaze from wandering down and back up again. “See you on the ice, then.” He flashed him another smile, which didn’t falter despite Hailey’s head shaking slowly in his periphery.

It was muscle memory, slipping on his skates and walking down the tunnel towards the ice which was already populated by fans and the team. He stepped onto the ice, pushing himself forward. He wove through the other skaters, the fresh bite of the ice waking him up. This was his element, out on the ice. Morgan’s fingers flexed, missing his stick.

As he neared the gate, he saw the hot guy standing and hesitating to get out on the ice. He stopped in front of him, holding out his hand. “Need a hand?” Morgan smiled at him, “I won’t let you fall, I promise.” He tilted his head towards the ice in invitation.

[OPEN SCENARIO! Make your own story here.]