Chapter Text
Riley hung back in the locker room as Ace left. She felt giddy with excitement. It was really happening! Her best friend, going off to become a big league Beastieball coach. And to save their hometown even! She didn’t know what might happen. But she wanted to help!
…But she also wanted to wait a minute. Being this excited was embarrassing. She took a minute to calm herself, and headed up the elevator.
As she stepped out, she saw Ace chatting with Marlin, the now-former head coach of Rutile. Riley scooted up behind him, giving their friend a grin. As Marlin went on, though, the grin faded a bit. He was giving a whole spiel about how tough it was going to be for them, how scary the league can be, blah blah blah. Hoping to save both her friend and herself from this drag of a conversation, Riley loudly cleared her throat.
“OH!” Marlin jumped, turning around to face Riley. “Riley! Uh… How long were you standin’ there for?” Riley sighed and crossed over to where Ace was standing.
“Marlin… stop acting like this is going to be impossible! Ace just needs to win ONE ranked match to get the League’s attention.” She put her arm around Ace’s shoulder. Their Sprecko jumped around a bit at Riley’s feet. “If anyone can do it… it’s them.” Marlin looked away.
Riley pouted. Her efforts to be cute and supportive were going unappreciated. She sighed again, overdramatically.
“Well, whatever, finish up your heart-to-heart.” She unlinked her arm from around Ace’s shoulder and gave them a gentle bap on the arm instead. “Everyone in Rutile’s rooting for you, Ace! You got this!” They grinned as she headed out the door.
Riley stepped out of the Beastieball center and took a long, deep breath. It was happening! It was really happening! The thing she and Ace had wanted for so long--the chance to become a proper coach! They were going to go take on some big-deal Ranked coach, recruit a whole team… Riley HAD to see it.
Maybe she could ask Marlin. He knew all about League positions and stuff, right? Could she be, like, a co-coach? A Beastie handler? Anything? She wanted to help, dang it! She wasn’t just gonna let her best friend have some epic journey without her!
Speak of the devil, Ace and Marlin were just exiting the Beastieball center. Ace gave Riley a wave as they and their beasties ran past, off toward the south. Marlin walked up to stand beside Riley. The two were quiet for a moment, before it was Marlin’s turn to sigh dramatically. Riley gave him a skeptical look.
“What--sad you lost, old man?” She teased. Marlin was a mentor figure of sorts, but more of an uncle type than a dad. He was someone she didn’t mind poking fun at, when the time called for it.
“...I just don’t think they’re ready for it, ‘s’all.” He was staring off at Ace as they left town. Riley dropped her smirk and turned to look the same way. Serious conversation time, got it.
“Well… you could have just not let them,” she replied. “I mean, there’s no way they could have beat you for real.” It was a bit harsh, but true. Ace’s beasties weren’t trained at all, and Marlin had coached his for years. Anyone with eyes could have seen that Marlin lost on purpose.
“It’s not that,” Marlin answered. “You’ve seen ‘em. They’ve got a talent for the thing, that’s for sure.”
They really did. Ever since Riley had known Ace--a bit over 10 years, now--they’d had a passion for Beastieball, and a talent like no other. The two of them would play, sometimes, with wild beasties in the preserve. Ace won just about every time. Riley once jokingly asked if they’d been raised by beasties, and got no response.
After he moved back to Rutile, Marlin had taken them in, hoping to cultivate their balling spirit. Soon enough, though, he’d lost his own. Riley had managed to convince Marlin to teach her a thing or two as well, mostly with the help of Ace’s puppy dog eyes. The two trained with Marlin’s team sometimes, but it always ended the same. No matter what she did, Riley was always behind.
That’s why, when it became clear they needed a new coach, she’d suggested Ace without hesitation. She knew her own limit--she just wasn’t good enough to fill the shoes of someone like Marlin. But Ace could. She knew it.
“…It’s everything else, though.” Marlin had started talking again. Riley nearly forgot he had been. “Beastieball just… ain’t the sport it used to be. They’ve got the skill for it, but what about the League? They won’t know the half of it.” Riley scoffed and folded her arms.
“They’re not dumb, they’ll figure it out.” She wasn’t going to sit back and let Marlin talk bad about her friend. But… she realized something. An opening. She uncrossed her arms and tried to soften her tone.
“But… uh, if they did need help… is there something I could do?” Marlin chuckled in response.
“Sorry kid, Rutile ain’t nearly big enough for another team.”
“Oh! No, I… I didn’t mean that.” She had hoped for it, though. There wasn’t much point in pressing the issue, she knew her town didn’t have much to work with. She continued. “Isn’t there something else, though? Like, an assistant coach or something? A manager?”
“Assistant coach ain’t a real job, you know that. I just couldn’t say no to Ace.”
“Manager, though?”
Marlin considered this. He always looked the same when he was thinking hard—arms crossed, head down, eyes closed. After a moment, he spoke.
“I was thinkin’ I’d just do it myself, but… it would be a big help. I can show you the ropes tomorrow.”
Riley grinned. It wasn’t much, but she could help! She was going to help!!!
“Thank you, Marlin! Really! It means a lot! I’m gonna go get ready. See you tomorrow!”
“Uh- ready? It’s just…” Marlin trailed off as Riley practically leaped away, heading towards the preserve. He watched her go for a moment, and sighed.