(Design Credit: Flamigiri)
After a Balancing revenge victory seven years in the making, the Rojo Rollers expected Mellow Yellow to bring it up in the form of showing off the gold medals and constant reminders of revenge from 2016’s very first event; the furthest thing from actuality, which took the form of a party meant to celebrate both that day in 2016 and today.
“How’s the view from the bottom looking?” Yellow teased while giving a bump to Rojo Uno.
Their fellow captain gave a nudge back. “Oh, shush. The view from the second step of the podium actually looks great, thank you very much,” they replied. “All jokes aside, I’ve been waiting for this moment. The event results specifically, though this party isn’t too bad.”
“Huh? You’ve been waiting for us to beat you?” Yellah cut in, handing a glass full of fizzy Non-Descript Soda to their captain. “That makes no sense.”
“I mean that I’ve been waiting for us to share the podium again,” Uno explained as they sipped their drink. “So what if we didn’t win? Nothing beats the feeling of getting to stand up there with you guys after so many years!”
Yellup rolled up to where the conversation was taking place. “The last time we were on the podium together… wasn’t that the first-ever event of the Marble League?”
(Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)
“Correct,” Rojo Dos confirmed. “All we’re missing is Team Momo if we truly wanted to make this a 2016 reunion party, but—”
As if on cue, the door opened. On the other side stood Momo with their teammates by their side, looking confused. The look soon turned to one of surprise. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Speak of the devil!” Rojo Cuatro sang out as they rolled up to Momo, getting behind them and pushing them into the room. “Welcome to the reunion!”
“W-what?”
Yellow laughed as they handed Momo a glass of soda. “2016 Balancing podium revenge slash reunion party. Just enjoy it, alright? You guys need something to feel good about. Maybe that’ll help you get your mojo back going into the back half.”
With a look at their teammates who weren’t immediately drawn to the table of food, Momo laughed a bit. “You’re lucky we don’t have anything else to do today. Thanks for letting me crash your party,” they sheepishly said, taking a sip of their soda afterward. “Here’s to hoping nothing bad happens during this one. Some of us have already had our fair share of strange parties this season.” They looked to Tres who sent an understanding smile back.
Rojo Uno rolled up to the gathering of captains. “And here’s to eight more years of friendship and many more podiums between us!” They raised their glass of soda.
The other two captains raised their glasses in unison, the clinking almost completely drowned out by laughter and the beginnings of stories from the last several years they’d been dying to share.
“On the count of three, alright? Three… two… one, and smile!”
(Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)
The Rollaroid cast its flash across the rooftop terrace of the athletes’ village, capturing five athletes with their medals—four bronze, one gold—held aloft. Berry watched the photo print and double-checked it once it developed. Thankfully, nobody had blinked.
“Looks good,” they said. “I’ll have it on socials by midnight. Uh, but be in bed by then, alright?”
Their half-serious command earned its requisite share of groans, but everyone returned to their rooms for the night, leaving Berry alone.
(Art Credit: Piney)
Readjusting to the sudden silence, they turned their gaze over the glass railings to the Buzznya skyline. New buildings like the Superhive complex boasted the best views in such an old city. It was a privilege even to see the honeycomb-style residential blocks from such a height.
“You’ll freeze if you stay out here too long.”
Berry didn’t need to look back to know it was Rozzy speaking. “I’ll live. Anyway, didn’t I tell you to go to bed?”
“Forgot my phone.” Rather than leaving again, they sat next to Berry. “Something on your mind?”
“Sort of,” they mumbled. “Feels like everything’s going too well.”
Rozzy snorted. “Hah! We’re only halfway through. Talk to me again when we’re done with the season.”
“I know, no getting ahead of ourselves,” Berry laughed. “Personally I mean.”
“Yeah?”
(Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)
“I mean… I quit my old job for this on a whim. Never been a coach or an athlete before. I still don’t know how I’ve got this far… And, I mean, you really wouldn’t prefer a tough ex-athlete like Quickly or Rango instead of someone like me?”
“No way. I like your style of coaching. Plus, a team like ours needs a coach with a head for numbers. Imagine if you let me calculate performance averages.”
Berry couldn’t help but smile into the darkness. “Well, when you put it that way…”
“Look, you were on that podium with all of us in 2019. It’s corny, but you’re part of our balance.”
“Corny? I’m not sure I- oh. It’s a pun. Good one.”
“I’m a natural comedian,” Rozzy laughed, their tone slightly sardonic. “Anyway. Don’t get too in your head about whether you’re good enough. Whatever happens, whatever doubts you have… You just have to keep moving. That’s the only way you’ll get where you need to go.”
What good is a captain who can’t lead their team properly?
The sight of ink-stained page after ink-stained page was beginning to vex Fearo. When the team had reformed for the 2022 Showdown, Cell encouraged them to start journaling. Their thoughts, feelings, training plans—were all recorded on the pages before them. When they were confident, riding the high of a dominant Showdown victory and a good M1 season, the writing was neat and prim. Now, after a sub-200 Balancing run, they were practically vomiting their troubles down, and the writing on the pages had become sloppy and inconsistent.
How have we lost so much ground already?
Do we need more stamina? Is there too much pressure?
I don’t want to disappoint our fans. And I don’t want to prove those who doubted us right. But I can’t do what I need, and it hurts.
They encircled the four lines in a loose ring and captioned it “NEGATIVE THOUGHTS: DON’T DWELL ON IT!” Then, finding the space beneath, they began to draw.
The ascending ladder of a foxglove. The stamen of a lily in bloom. The cloudlike spread of baby’s breath. As Fearo recalled them, they blossomed in black and white on the page, and they slowly began to feel grounded once more.
Unconsciously, they scribbled three words underneath: not the end.
(Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)
Two marbles sit in Em’s kitchen. Saffy is halfway through the sandwich their parent packed for them. Em is halfway through a cup of instant noodles.
“Not the end!? You’re leaving the country!” Saffy cries.
Em nods. “I’ll still be able to watch G-Force the night before.”
“Yeah, but you’ll be gone until the new year! Even the Showdown will be over by then!”
“That just means I need to get them all before I leave.”
A stack of envelopes and parcels sits between them; Em had collected the mail earlier that day, as was their responsibility every two weeks.
“I wish I had your optimism, Em.”
“Well, I just got a bunch of responses in the mail, so I’m still moving at a good pace!”
A signed letter on orange stationery with a pre-printed message, a signed index card with “Keep your eyes on the prize!” scribbled in rushed handwriting, and a signed discount coupon for a Thunderbolts shirt sit atop the pile.
“Can’t you ask to stay home this time?”
“I tried, but one of my parents has to go overseas for work. The other is, uh, super busy.”
A signed card attached to a free Team Galactic beanie, a signed box of confections, a signed member card for the “Wolfpack” fan club, and a signed note reading “PLASMAAAAAA!!!!” with a slice of plastic-wrapped pie sits beside the pile, as not to get crushed.
“They’re never around, are they?”
Em pauses for a moment before speaking again. “Yeah.”
Credits
- Writers: Flamigiri, Millim, Momoikkai
- Copyeditors/Editors: Evolution, Stynth
- Artist: Piney
- Graphic Designer: Flamigiri
- Photographer: Jelle’s Marble Runs
- Reference: Marble League 2023 Event 8: Balancing | Jelle’s Marble Runs
- Release: 17/11/2023
Project Marblearth 