The flowers reminded Misty of home.
“Home” was a secret they would keep to themselves for the rest of eternity, something reporters never quite understood even after all these years. They were all smiles today, a sharp turnaround from last week. They’d already shown their true colors anyway, Misty mused. The right thing to do would be to let go, but it was easier said than done.
Back then, the flowers had barely started budding.
“Explain this,” they had demanded.
Smoggy had replied in a perfect monotone. “I refuse to participate.”
“Two entrants without experience? You know how risky this is.”
There had been a long pause before they found their words. “Last year,” they began quietly, “From the beginning, I could tell something was off. But I didn’t –”
Smoggy’s voice wavered, then cracked.
“I just watched.” They smiled bitterly. “If only I could go back in time.”
Misty had stood there speechless, numbly taking the notebook Smoggy handed to them.
“Here. I won’t be using it. It’s not as detailed, it’s not organized, and you’ll have to retape the pages back together, but maybe it’ll help.”
“Y-you can’t trust me.” The doubt had crept in on them again, ever-present and persistent. “Look at what I’ve already done.”
Smoggy had met their eyes solemnly. “Do you honestly think Hazy would have nominated you as captain if they didn’t know you had it in you? They chose correctly. Don’t forget that.”
But even now, clutching their new bronze, Misty wasn’t sure if it had been the right choice. Everything looked smaller from atop the podium: the journalists in the media pen, the rows of judging eyes in the grandstands, and a familiar smile of gentle pride.
Wait, you’re–
And then Speedy leapt off their podium, and Misty instinctively shied away, and when they looked again the marble had vanished.
Oh. It was just their imagination, they told themselves, watching the breeze kick up another flurry of petals into the open air. Stop looking back. There was still so much work to do. They had to keep moving forward.
Sometimes Swifty just couldn’t understand Speedy at all. It had been a great race, a second podium, and they were sitting second in the championship. They should have been over the moon; instead, all they got was a dry “it was a good race” followed by a slammed door.
“They said the exact same thing last week!” Swifty huffed wandering aimlessly down the halls, hoping to find someone in a better mood to hang out with. There was an odd air of animosity between nearly everybody that they weren’t expecting – what Rapidly had described in their first season as a fun little time filler had seemed to evolve into its own beast in just a few years.
“This is hopeless,” they thought, making their way through the spiraling halls, until something caught their attention.
“Royal. Listen to me, this secret is coming with us to our graves.”
“Hey, guys! What are you two up to?!” Swifty called, peeking into the Kobalts drivers room, both blue marbles yelping in surprise.
“Royal,” Cerulean warned, gaze darting back and forth frantically between their teammate and a witness to what they’d just said.
“Oh well if it’s important you don’t -”
“CERULEAN AND I ARE GOING TO THE HANASUNE BIIKU CONCERT BUT THEY MESSED UP AND NOW WE HAVE THREE TICKETS INSTEAD OF TWO,” They paused to let out a sob, “NOW SOME POOR FAN OF BIIKU WILL NEVER GET TO EXPERIENCE THEIR GLORY AND IT’S ALL OUR FAULT!! ”
“Wait, like the fictional character?” Swifty asked innocently.
“FICTIONAL CHARACTER?!” Royal scoffed. “Biiku is so much more than that!”
“They have lore,” Cerulean interjects.
“They have lore! One hundred and eighteen comic issues worth of lore!” Royal lowered their voice, teary eyed, “An android cursed with the emotions of a marble. Unable to connect to the world around them yet burdened with all the feeling it brings them! Oh how lonely a fate!”
“How ever did they overcome it?” Cerulean responded, somewhat sarcastically.
“By simply doing what they were good at all along! Sing! Through music they ended their loneliness, connecting to the hearts of fans and other androids just like them! The power of love, friendship, and music makes Biiku learn to love the world!” Royal finished dramatically, then blushed. “Sorry, I get really passionate when I talk about this stuff.”
Swifty was definitely confused but entertained. “Wow, I didn’t know there was so much to it! Is there more?”
“Canonically, no, but–” Royal started, their talking pace almost as lightning quick as their racing.
“Oh, you’ve really got them going now.” Cerulean quipped, rolling back a few lengths and nodding along to Royal’s story.
“I’m guessing you’ve heard this before?” Swifty asked.
“Oh yeah, about a million times. The first was back when Royal was the Phantom of the Dorm Rooms, blasting Biiku music from their room constantly. I made the mistake of saying it’s just a voice bank, and they gave me a seminar in return!”
“And then the brave knight-” Royal stops to catch their breath before jumping right back into it.
“So the concert’s a reward for doing so well, right? Double golds, what a feat!” Swifty whistled.
“Nah, we’ve had this thing planned for months now. Win or lose, Royal would be singing their heart out tonight. Only downside is that it finishes 2 hours before the morning flight out of Rosaka.”
“Won’t you be tired? It could affect your performance at Greenstone,” Swifty pointed out. Oh, no. They sounded like Speedy.
Cerulean thought for a second, as Royal worked their way through the third act.
“Maybe. But I think sometimes it’s better not being perfect in everything we do. Ordering pizza when a game of Marbles and Monoliths runs a few hours too long, taking a day off to binge watch a new show that we’d been chatting about, staying up to see a singing hologram,” Cerulean laughs, “Sometimes it really does just feel like our lives are solely for other marbles’ entertainment, but in those moments it feels like we’re people too.”
“Don’t get it wrong! We obviously take competing really seriously, so much so that Royal’s starting to revert back to a nervous wreck, but what good would it be if all we did was worry?”
“Probably not for the best.” Swifty mumbled.
“I’d hate to be the poor athlete who lives thinking even the smallest acts of enjoying themselves is going to throw them off their game,” Cerulean smiles, giving Swifty a nudge “Okay, now act like we were paying attention.”
“-and that is the briefest explanation I can possibly give,” Royal exclaimed with a flourish.
“I like the part where it’s revealed the knight was actually Biikus’ childhood friend Aroyl.” Swifty responded, much to Cerulean’s surprise.
“Thank you! That’s my favorite part too!” Royal exclaimed, then frowned. “It’s a shame I can’t tell you about the sequel, I don’t think I can cover that before we need to catch the bus to the Ampinktheatre.”
“You know what, Swifty? We’ve got a spare ticket, why don’t you come with us to the show?” Cerulean asked. Royal gasped, before grinning excitedly.
“Me?”
“Well? What do you say?” Cerulean and Royal both looked so excited that Swifty only had to think it over for a second.
Credits
- Writers: Thinkdoodler, Toffeeshop
- Editor: GhostDM
- Artist: Thinkdoodler
- Photographer: Jelle’s Marble Runs
- Reference: Marbula One S4 GP3 Sakura Garden RACE – Jelle’s Marble Runs
- Release: 19/05/2023
Project Marblearth 