After ACX: Part Three

      The crowd always gasps when I appear on the pitch. Then they cheer, they’re greedy. You can almost hear their eagerness salivating in their roars. They know that the teams are dreading seeing my purple and black form rise off the pedestal. They know they’re in for a long rally, as I refuse to go where I am bid. I love it.

      Being a Darigan has suited me far more than being Normal or Faerie ever did. Being normal was boring. There are so many of us rolling around our island just off Krawk Island, and it must be a least a third of us are Normal. Given that there are seven different variants on the Isle, you realise how many are plain and boring and young.

      They are way too excited, all the time. They haven’t got any Cups under their belts, they think it’s all fun and games. They make me sneer. They don’t realise that their re-painting is not automatic, that they have to earn the right.

      We all look up as the door to the Used Room opens, and another Yooyu is carefully placed inside. The Ball Pet waves, and exits, leaving us to size up the newcomer. A Faerie. Huh. I watch him from my perch up high, hidden in the shadows so he can’t see me. I see him take in the friendly pile of Fire Yooyus curled in the corner, and the Snow opposite them doing his best impression of a weary emperor. I can see it cross his mind as he considers sitting with the Snow, but then I see his confidence leaves him. I know where he’s going to go before he does.

      “Bet you bean bag by the mirror” I whisper to the only other Darigan. He’s lying next to me, barely paying any attention to the newcomer.

      The Faerie seems to come to a decision, and; “What do you know? I was right!” I whisper triumphantly. He starts to admire his form in the mirror, and I hiss through my teeth.

      “TELL me I was never that bad!” I demand of my companion, who yawns and rolls onto his front to survey the scene.

      He snorts. “Wow, no, don’t worry! No one was ever that stuck up before!”

      We watch in glee, unseen by any of the other Yooyus as we sneer at the preening Fae below us. My companion gains a little more energy and starts to mimic the facial expressions of the flexing Yooyu, who is completely unaware that we are mocking him.

      But the fun doesn’t last, the Fae is exhausted and yawns a final time before settling for a nap. I grudgingly admit to myself that a nap now might now be the worst idea. I do a quick head/variant count and realise that very quickly the teams playing out there in the stadium are going to hit their stride, and we will be inundated with shattered Yooyus looking for somewhere comfortable to lie down.

      My companion and I turn, and shuffle in together, curling up back to back. I shuffle in towards the wall a little closer, and close my eyes. Hopefully, I can sleep while more wimpy Yooyus arrive, and by the time I wake up, they’ll be some more Darigans to join us on our lofty perch.

      The noise is now too loud for me to continue ignoring. I crack open one eye grumpily, aware that while I’ve slept, my friend and I have been joined by another two Darigans, all of us lying with our backs to the centre, and that the platforms below us are similarly heaving with bodies.

      I sit up slowly, careful not to accidentally turf anyone off the platform. It’s happened to me more than once, and it’s a rather unpleasant way to be woken up. I stretch my limbs in all directions, just brushing the ceiling above us.

      The room is full, but I can tell that there is more yet to come. The door opens as I scan the room, and another two Yooyus are dumped unceremoniously into the space. Less than a minute later, another three are deposited in the doorway. The new additions look slightly shell-shocked, and I recognise the signs. Never mind that the group is made up of a Fire, two Faerie, a Snow and a Mutant, they all bear the same look of pain and confusion. It must be closing in on the end of the game time then.

      It’s always the same. At the start of the match, the players are relaxed, thinking about their form more than the score, and why wouldn’t they? After all, they have an hour and a half to score goals, there’s no rush for them. And we are the same, responding to their thought processes of focus and determination. The Ball Pets, too, are gentle in their handling of us, taking their time and picking up and putting us down softly.

      But at around the half way point, things change. The team losing is desperate to make up the points, and the team winning is desperate to increase their lead. They don’t care about aiming, they just grab us, charge and fling us. There is no other word but desperation, and it’s really obvious the Yooyus who were there before the players change and after.

      We are yanked and bounced and scraped and chucked around the pitch, and once it’s finally over, the Ball Pets grab us. We bounce uncomfortably in their slings as they run full pelt down the twisting route to the Used Room, where we are chucked in with no care at all. We have very little time to adjust if we are played at the end of the match.

      I smirk at the little group huddled in the doorway. They slowly orientate themselves and roll towards their own little teams, the Fire heading first and fastest to the pile of flames in the nearest corner. They never make much noise or movement in the Used Room, they’re too spent after their time on the pitch.

      The Snow moves sedately towards the throne of white on the back wall. Just because they’re the oldest, they think they deserve it all. The Faeries head instinctively towards the mirror, checking the reflection automatically before greeting friends and settling in.

      The Mutant moves towards the centre of the room, and joins the other Mutants. As always, they take up the most room, all flat out on their backs, staring silently at the ceiling, occasionally glancing shyly towards our corner, a black and purple tower slowly shuffling up and down as we attempt to get comfortable.

      I don’t blame them. I was the same last year, my energy resources depleted from having to copy other flight patterns, and trying to gauge what the next Cup would be like for me. In turn, I now assess the pile of Fires.

      I’m not sure that’s what I want to be, I’ve enjoyed being Darigan this year. I like subverting the expectations. I like being difficult, even though I know that the players don’t like me. I liked being Mutant too, but Darigan is even better.

      I get to do what I want. The players really hate me, they put everything they have into their throw, and I can go whichever way I like. I’m smiling now, as I remember the match today.

      There was one point when the centre forward had me for ages, he was dodging every other player, completely ignoring the shouts of his team mates. He was muttering to himself, “come on, come on, come on”, I could tell he really wanted to score. No, scratch that. He really wanted to be the one who scored used the Darigan Yooyu.

      As we were running, I had the opportunity to weigh my choices. On the one paw, I could be absolutely lovely, and go straight into the goal. On the other, I could go to the left or right. On the third, I could go back down the centre line.

      Hmm. To be perfectly delightful, kind of nice or downright despicable. We’re closing in on the goal, time to make my mind up. The player jostling me in his sling is still muttering, but it’s changed from geeing himself up to pleading with me, or himself, or perhaps he’s begging an unnamed deity. “Please, please, please, please, please- NOW”

      And on the bellow I am launched into the air. It’s the work of a second to pull in on the right side, and stick out a limb on the left, and I swing to the right. I’m gaily flying up the wall adjacent to the goal as I hear the goalie and the opposing player yell, one in relief and the other in despair.

      I feel my eyes glow in satisfaction as I remember how much I made all of the players work today. I see a Normal, from their station beside the Snows, stare in fear, and I know how scary I look.

      A pair of red eyes, staring out from a shifting height of malevolence. Honestly, what more could a girl ask for?

      To be continued...