Home Again

Poptropolis Games

...

"Dad..." she snuggled over the covers. "Mom says that being a hero is dangerous. She says I should be a scientist."

The man laughed, ruffling her hair. "Don't listen to what your mom says, spark. She's just worried 'bout you, that's all. I love her, but... she can be so anxious. She needs to take a chill pill sometimes." He sighed. "Don't let her or anyone stop you, spark. Follow your own ways."

"But what if I do fail?" she asked, fear prickling her voice.

"Okay, now you really sound like your mom," the man chuckled. "Sometimes things go wrong, spark, and we can't do anything about them. So we just carry on, and try again. Success isn't easy, y'know."

"Okay," she replied, with a small grin. "I understand, Dad."

Seraphim has always been the tribe I've liked most. Those majestic wings and that shining glory- it speaks to me. Fierce Fox was already part of that tribe, so I joined up, receiving a black and yellow striped jersey. Then the two of us got to gaze at the island.

It's like Mythology Island, Reality TV Island and Twisted Thicket have been mashed together. There are old, ruined temples with golden roofs, covered in algae and beautiful pink flowers. The pillars are cracked stone held together, and stone faces are submerged in the muddy ground. Grass is spread around, as well as various rocks and tree roots. Some plants are dripping water, as Poptropolis Games had just risen from the sea.

"Ah, our representative from Seraphim," a man- the host of the games- scolded Fierce Fox. "You're late!"

"What about me?" I asked, raising my brow.

"I'll get to you in a sec," the man replied. He stared at Fierce Fox. "Off you go. To the games."

"The games?" Fierce Fox asked. I winked and waved her off. She dashed off, still perplexed. The man, twirling his microphone in his fingers, turned to me.

"I'm afraid we already have a representative for Seraphim," he said. "So you can't play in the games. But you can stand in the crowd and be moral support!"

"Oh," I replied, chewing my lip. "Can I at least help my friend?"

"Sorry," the man answered, shaking his head. "Moral support only." I sighed and brushed a lock of blonde hair behind my ear, breathing in the fresh air. It really is fresh; like it's come straight from the sea (which it has, really).

The colosseum's splendid. Although it's in ruins, it's a sight for sore eyes. Plants grow over the crumbled mess, and a large torch is in the middle. Standing on the ruins are cheering poptropicans, who are going a little crazy. Grumpily, I waddled over and joined them, while briefly touching the white, algae-covered ruins. I eyed Fierce Fox a level below me, who was standing with a bunch of rivals. I sighed. Well, it was like I would do well in the Poptropolis games. My energy from 24 Carrot Island only surfaced when I felt truly determined, and I didn't feel that way right then.

"It sucks, doesn't it?" a voice said nearby me. I jumped. The voice's owner chuckled. "Calm down there, girl!" It belonged to a dark-skinned boy with dark brown hair and eyes. His hair's neatly styled, like Director D's, expect there's a bit more hair and curls. And it's real hair. He was wearing a green and black striped jersey, representing the tribe Flying Squid. "I'm Mighty Penguin. What's your name?"

"Uh... Alice," I answered, fingering my scarf. "Nice to meet you."

Mighty Penguin nodded. "Ditto." His eyes widened. "Your face looks... familiar. Have I seen you somewhere?"