Rosaka (28/9/24)
Rosaka was overstimulating at the best of times, but Ruzzy had an apparent knack for picking the loudest and brightest spots in the entire city. First was a comics convention, second was a busy cafe, now was an arcade in the middle of the city. Not practiced enough to play anything on their own, Cloudy had mostly stood by and watched Ruzzy win. Another time it might have annoyed them, but following a pole and a bronze, they were on cloud nine.
As the two turned down another long corridor and past rows of UFO catchers, a machine caught Cloudy’s eye. Piled high in the glass cage were cartoonish plush sheep, each obscenely fluffy and rotund. Sheep fared too poorly on Mt. Huaze to be kept, but they’d been allowed to pet the free-roamers at the O’Marble property, and suffice to say they were now obsessed. Cloudy pressed up close and gazed inside, twinkly-eyed, until Ruzzy nudged them aside.
“Don’t even worry,” Ruzzy quipped, smiling. “I’ll get you one, even if I have to spend my entire race winnings on it.”
When Bumble was invited to a game of Marbles & Monoliths, they hadn’t known what to expect, but more and more the experience was beginning to feel atypical anyways. The four of them were crowded into Panther’s tiny Rosakan flat, and though the requisite game board was there, the usual characters had been substituted with Panther’s figure collection, so that the fight was between Hanasune Biiku, several giant robots, a cat plushie and a figure of Panther themself.
“Alright, now that Bumble’s cast their guaranteed-hit spell… I’m going to strike with my longsword,” Nereid proclaimed, weighty with the self-assured confidence of an experienced player.
“Go ahead,” Cerulean said with a nod, and Nereid cast their twelve-sided die. It clattered along the playmat, an entire table’s worth of attention turned to it as it gradually lost its momentum and settled on a single face.
10.
“With a vicious strike you plunge your sword into the chest of the beast -” pronounced Cerulean – “leaving it effortlessly slain. Congratulations, adventurers!”
Constrained excitement arose amongst the group, sucked far enough into the fantasy of their characters and their grand unified quest that they’d forgotten their real-life divisions.
“And you know what that means?” continued Cerulean.
“Loot and experience points?” quoted Bumble, from the Explorer’s Guidebook.
Cerulean nodded. “That and a fifteen-minute break. In real life,” they clarified.
Small chatter emerged around the table as Bumble took from their seat and to the doors leading out to the balcony of Panther’s home. Though the game was going well- they thought, anyway- they’d been eyeing the balcony all night. What Panther’s flat lacked in space was made up for tenfold with its view over the city. Tens of stories high and almost unobstructed, Bumble hadn’t had a view like it since Hunluen. So transfixed were they by the skyline that they failed to notice Panther joining them, drink in hand.
“Not so crummy anymore, is it?” laughed Panther, a jab at an earlier comment of theirs. Bumble flustered.
“I was only joking,” they protested, “and besides, you were complete dead weight in that fight, so…”
“Master Meowgical has a very specific set of skills that aren’t always very useful,” retorted Panther, mouthily mumbling through the last part. “Anyway… I lost an auto-qualification to you without any hard feelings, so insult my home all you want.”
Bumble turned their gaze downwards; seemingly-infinite empty space between them, the railing, and the pavement. It was oddly somber, and Bumble knew almost immediately they wouldn’t be able to stomach such an atomized existence themself. “We do seem to run into each other a lot. Literally. Usually Red Eye is somewhere, though…”
Panther tutted and leaned back. “What do you think we were fighting a giant on-fire lion for? Symbolism, Bumble, symbolism.”
“Unsubtle symbolism,” Bumble replied, pretending to have noticed. They glanced back inside through the doors and saw Cerulean and Nereid wrapped up in their own lively conversation. “You know, if I have to run into someone all the time, you’re not a bad choice.”
“Same to you. You’re like a low-stress version of Starry.” Both winced silently at the mention of Starry, whose struggles remained an eerie black box over the season.
“And you’re like a Red Eye that I can beat sometimes,” agreed Bumble.
“I’ll take it,” Panther said, chuckling under their breath. “Hey, if you’re going to refill your drink, could you get me one?”
Bumble circled the last of their peach soda around in the glass. “Sure,” they replied, heading back inside to the warmth. Nereid and Cerulean were enraptured with each other still, oblivious to Bumble fetching two cans from Panther’s diminutive fridge.
“-it was a massive blue marblin, must’ve been about two metres long, and the boat nearly capsized with it on board, but I got things under control,” narrated Nereid, full of passion.
“That’s amazing. I’ve, um… I’ve never actually been on a boat…”
“No way! You’ll be racing Limelight Harbour too, right?”
Cerulean nodded.
“That’ll be the perfect time. We can go out, just you and me!”
“I… If you don’t mind, yeah!”
Bumble grinned and kept quiet as they slinked back out again. It was probably best to give them their space.
The sky in Rosaka had long been black and starless, but back in Van Gotterdam the sun was only beginning to set. Aryp fished their phone out from beneath their pillow and dialed the third saved number. It rang only briefly before being picked up.
“Oh. Hey, Aryp.”
Aryp took a deep breath. “Have you watched the race yet?” they asked, dispensing with any niceties. A brief, brutal silence followed.
“Yeah. Me and Mary, we… I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” Aryp countered. “I don’t even know why I’m calling. I guess I just want to hear your voice.”
“Well, you know I’m always glad to hear from you too.” Somewhere in the background a familiar microwave dinged. They’d interrupted dinner from a few thousand miles away. Just great.
Aryp sucked in another jagged breath. Now they were already being selfish they might as well go all the way. “Listen… The tax and business forms for the season, could you take them off my hands? You’re good at this. I can’t- something has to give.” As if they hadn’t left the training and management to them already. But-
“Leave it to me. Take care of yourself, yeah?”
In the darkness, Aryp could almost imagine Imar being right there alongside them. “You too,” they replied, another weight off their back. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” Imar mirrored, and the silence returned.
Sotsevsa (5/10/24)
Misty had seen Sostevsa before only in pictures: white buildings with green accents sprawled alongside the sea, complemented by lush hills and steep limestone cliffs. There had been an air of tranquility in those pictures, a promise of dappled sunlight and a light ocean breeze.
Suffice to say that their expectations were misplaced. As they finished checking their phone, a thunderous cheer rose up from the harbor, accompanied by rapid flashes of light in every color of the rainbow. A marble had just backflipped into the water. Misty winced – they’d only just finished blinking out a set of afterimages from their vision.
The Sostevsa in the pictures was still there underneath the coat of festivities set up for the M1 circus, tucked away in meticulous pavement patterns and artistically trimmed shrubbery and architectural details Misty didn’t have the vocabulary to describe. And now, as they walked along the docks, it was in the pristine rows of sailboats and their wavering reflections in the water, the sort of view that would make Rima scramble for their watercolor set.
“-sty!”
The call had been halfway drowned out by the unrelenting music from the parties, but there was no mistaking Ruzzy’s cheerful wave, nor the sight of Billy carrying their shopping for them.
“I like your hat,” Misty offered as they drew closer. Ruzzy pouted up at them from beneath a lime-green brim.
Billy was trying not to smile. “It’s their disguise.”
“It’s temporary,” Ruzzy groused. “Besides, I can use it to prank Razzy later.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” said Misty, who could only imagine Razzy’s reaction to having Limers merchandise sneak into their luggage. They shifted nervously. “I’m grateful for the invitation, really, but are you sure? I don’t know anything about sailing.”
“Billy’s good at sailing, and Clem’s coming too,” Ruzzy said. Behind them, Billy shuffled shyly at the praise. “C’mon, podium party! Also, there’s not that many options tonight; it’s just hotel, party, or boat.”
As if on cue, the other two marbles flinched as an airhorn blasted through the air, followed by another whirlwind dance of lights and a pulse of bass from the loudspeakers.
“Boat, please.”
By the time Billy maneuvered the sailboat out of the harbor, the sky had faded from sunset to dusk, clinging onto only the faintest glimmers of sunlight. The hectic symphony of the party had also dampened with distance, reduced to a low thrum amidst the gentle lapping of waves against the hull.
“So, what’ll it be?” asked Clementin, rummaging through the cooler. They had been the first to arrive on the boat, and was subsequently in charge of drinks. “We have water, Non-Descript Soda, limeade…” They waved a bottle at Ruzzy, who stared at it disdainfully. Misty reached for it in their place.
“Cerulean looked well,” they said absentmindedly, fiddling with the cap. The newly crowned victor had been spotted as a passenger aboard Nereid’s rental while they were en route out of the port, their sailing vessels passing each other at a distance suited only for enthusiastic waving.
Clementin plucked a soda out of the cooler. “Jealous?”
Misty felt themselves adopt the indiscernible expression they usually reserved for media obligations. “That’s not it. I’m happy for them.” They twisted open their limeade, the evening light glinting off the lid as it released a satisfying hiss. “Four-way fights are never predictable.”
Ruzzy nudged Billy, who jumped a little from where they were focused on steering. “Was it anything like Arctic Circuit?”
“I guess?” they stammered. They considered the question thoughtfully, their voice taking on a note of nostalgia. “But in Halifern we had an eight-way snowball fight later…”
Misty blinked. “Eight-way snowball fight?”
“Billy won that too,” Ruzzy lamented.
“I needed to avenge Mallard,” Billy protested, wavering between apologetic and proud. “Besides, Razzy got you too.”
“It was an accident! They were aiming for Orangin.”
“Is that what they told you?”
Misty normally would have been content with sitting back and quietly listening to the other three reminisce, but this time, an inevitable question coalesced in the back of their mind. “What about…” they trailed off, not wanting to interrupt, but the implication of what they were about to ask lingered in the breeze.
“Your teammates eliminated each other immediately,” Clementin informed them with a laugh. “Nearly tagged me too in the process, but Orangin rescued me…and then they betrayed me, but that’s beside the point.”
They let out a sigh that was equal parts amused, exasperated, and wistful. “That sounds about right. No wonder they ‘forgot’ to mention it.”
The other three marbles shared a glance, then Ruzzy grinned wickedly at them. “Want to know anything else?”
The part of Misty that had resigned themselves to responsibility refused. Gossip was impolite, and not only would it be unwise to probe into such potentially painful memories, it would also be terribly hypocritical for them to pry into the stories of others when they were so guarded about their own. But the night was young, and the boat had been cradled away so far from the harbor that the party lights were a mere suggestion, swallowed up by the shadowed outlines of limestone cliffs. The Sotsevsa breeze swirled peacefully around them, tasting of salt and tang. There was plenty of time.
“Tell me everything.”
Credits
- Writers: Millim, Toffeeshop
- Copyeditor/Editor: Stynth
- Artist: Piney
- Reference: Marbula One S5 GP5 Sakura Garden Race | Jelle’s Marble Runs; Marbula One S5 GP6 Limelight Harbour Race | Jelle’s Marble Runs
- Release: 11/10/2024
Project Marblearth 