Accellaise (27/10/24)
Yellup: hey sorry for the short notice but we’re gonna be canceling on the boat ride
Yellup: yellow thinks they saw yelley
“Ah, crap… Slimelime?”
Slimelime turned back from tracing the intricacies of the winding, web-like map of Accellaise and towards Lemonlime and the off-blue waters of the small harbor. “Hm? Is something wrong?”
Lemonlime groaned frustratedly. “Mellow Yellow canceled on us,” they mumbled. “Something about Yelley.”
Slimelime spluttered and stormed over to Lemonlime, peering over to read the texts on the screen for themself. “We’ve had this booked for a week! Tell me they paid in advance,” they grunted.
“I don’t know, I- just a second.”
“Maybe put a message out in the group chat,” Slimelime proposed. “But not the Razzies.”
“Still locked. I heard Blizzard had to drag Snowy away from Red Eye last night…”
Lemonlime gestured for the attendant at the dock, a young and disinterested marble unimpressed by the presence of the Limers duo. “Our other riders canceled. Can we still get on?”
The attendant shrugged. “As long as you can pay,” they said pointedly, gesturing back to the sign declaring the eye-watering cost of the tour, disinterest only increasing. Lemonlime whined under their breath, but just as they were about to open their own purse Slimelime intervened with a wad of their own cash foisted on the attendant.
“It’s on me,” Slimelime declared. An unnecessary gesture, as they were both pulling from the same team purse, but Lemonlime flashed them a grateful smile anyway. A few minutes more of waiting and the red velvet rope came down, allowing them onto a cherry-colored boat that looked straight out of a century ago.
The captain of the boat, a cheery marble, waved from their small cabin at the head as they sat on the plush open-roof seating. A table of fine produce and charcuterie was included on the central table.
“Well, I suppose it’s more for us…” pondered Lemonlime, just to be drowned out by the sound of the motors whirring to life beneath them.
The boat broke from the harbor and took off at a comfortable clip through the middle of the river. The journey, about an hour in length, would take them from the more residential edge of the city, through the center to the other end and then back around.
“It’s not too fast,” quipped Slimelime, halfway through a bunch of grapes. “I suppose we’re getting our money’s worth.” White spray peeled from the side of the boat as it pushed through the river’s surface. Neither of the Limers noticed, caught in observing Accellaise as it passed around them.
“Such a beautiful city… The Speeders really are lucky, getting to live here…” mused Lemonlime, gazing up as the buildings gradually became bigger and more ornate.
“You could retire here,” Slimelime suggested, hoping to be helpful, but Lemonlime responded with a pout.
“I know I’m not as good as you, but you don’t have to talk about my retirement to my face.”
Panicked, Slimelime tried to walk back what they’d said. “Not like that, I mean- you’re my best friend, you know that. I just, you know, when we all retire, you could, and I could come with you.”
“That’s very sweet of you, but-”
“Hey! You two!”
Out of nowhere, their conversation was interrupted by a neighboring boat, aboard which was Starry and Quasar. The boat, a more modern model, was moving much slower- perhaps for the benefit of Starry, who was immersed not in the beauty of the surroundings but in their laptop and a work call.
“You two!?” exclaimed Lemonlime, signaling for the captain to slow their boat.
“Can I get on yours? Starry is such a buzzkill,” exclaimed Quasar. Judging by Starry’s unchanging expression of complete focus, they hadn’t heard a word.
“Well, if it’s safe-”
“Nope, it’s all ours,” Slimelime yelled through a mouthful of wine and crackers, flashing the captain an opposite signal- floor it. They obliged, and as the boat kicked into high gear, it churned up a massive spray of foam underneath it, shooting across the water and blanketing the opposing boat- Starry, Quasar, and Starry’s laptop alike.
“Slimelime!” Lemonlime shrieked, Team Galactic slowly vanishing into a white blob behind them.
Helarve (01/11/24)
Snowstorm had no fond memories of Midnight Bay. During Season 1, so distant that it might as well have been another lifetime entirely, they’d watched Snowy fall just short of the individual championship. A year later in Season 2, actively competing, they’d just been glad to see the tail end of an existentially disappointing season. Season 3, watching Iceberg come second… Some things were best not dwelled upon.
Still, it was in Helarve, a city so frigid that it took a native to the cold to withstand being outdoors for any substantial length of time. Otherwise they wouldn’t have been able to sit at the abandoned rooftop bar of the hotel for hours, overthinking everything, with an unobstructed view of the floodlit clocktower just in case impending doom ever slipped from their mind.
Occasionally, between losing and regaining their senses, they moved to the side of the building where the entrance sat and watched that instead, wondering if they might see Snowflake leave before deciding again they didn’t want to know. All they knew was that Snowflake had shown up, and everything beyond that was out of their control.
It was one of these times—times when they couldn’t see the door to the rooftop—that they were startled by the sound of the door. When they turned to face the new arrival, they found looking at a be-scarfed Yellow Eye, locking gazes for an unbearable few seconds.
“No need for the deer-in-the-headlights look, you know,” Yellow Eye reassured them, but it was of little comfort. “Promise I’m not spying for Red Eye.” Even the bite of the cold through their knitted vetements couldn’t knock Yellow Eye’s practiced confidence off-kilter.
Snowstorm swallowed speechlessly. Spying for Red Eye or not, they couldn’t put it past Yellow Eye to be attempting some sort of mind game with them. If so, maybe it was better to lean into it and outmaneuver them. They weren’t leaving, anyway; rather, they were coming closer.
“I didn’t even know you were here, actually,” they added, sounding more like they’d just re-encountered an old friend in a foreign city. Snowstorm kept their gaze level as they approached, trying to size them up. “Where’s Snowy?” they asked, and what they’d said about not spying for Red Eye began to feel slightly hollow.
“I don’t know.” It was the right thing to say, and it was also the truth. Their phone had been turned off and locked up ever since Snowflake arrived. Yellow Eye flashed them a quizzical glance.
“Why not?” they asked, curiosity barely concealed. Snowstorm weighed their options. Lying was promising, as was deflecting. But there was a guilty part of them still, desperate to confess their transgressions to anyone who’d hear them.
Snowstorm looked to the sky. “I took the nuclear option.”
Yellow Eye was caught off-guard, unusually for them. “What?”
“I called in Snowflake to try and set Snowy right. I haven’t seen them since.” It was freeing to say it out loud.
“That’s… Well, maybe it’s for the best,” Yellow Eye concluded, frustration poking to the surface between their words. “But you could be on two whole podiums together tomorrow—”
“Not going to happen,” Snowstorm interjected, waving away the ridiculous notion.
Yellow Eye furrowed their brow. “You qualified well,” they added, a heavy unspoken sentiment weighing the retort down; and I didn’t, so don’t you dare be a downer about your situation.
“When I line up on track and everyone sees we’re the only team whose other teammates didn’t even bother showing up to watch, I’m going to cringe to death, and I’m pretty sure that’s a DNQ.”
Yellow Eye’s expression wrinkled. “Grim. What, none of them?”
“Snowblast is a maybe,” replied Snowstorm, glum. “If it’ll boost Snowy’s ego again, we don’t deserve to win anything. That’s how I feel.”
Yellow Eye turned quite suddenly to look them directly in the eyes. Snowstorm winced. “Do you want my honest opinion?” Yellow Eye asked.
Suspecting they might not like it, Snowstorm nodded anyway.
“I came to a conclusion, earlier: race for yourself. Be selfish. I threw my entire career away for the sake of my captain and I wasn’t even asked to. Guilt, bitterness, love… Whatever you think of Snowy right now, if you give up on your own ambitions for someone else, you’ll kick yourself for it for the rest of your life.”
Snowstorm peered over the stone railing, to the lamplit streets where a thousand strangers trudged the wet pavement, their minds and lives unknown to them.
“It’s not the same,” they protested vaguely. Still, their mind filled with thoughts of an overall podium, from which they could look down on everyone just like now.
“Of course it is,” countered Yellow Eye. Before Snowstorm could think to argue further, they wandered off slowly to the exit, ending the conversation just as strangely as it had started. “But if you don’t get it, I can’t help you.”
—
Berry had only just finished their first brief look at the provisional overall standings when Razzy paraded through the door to the radio control rooms, one of the first to depart from the track. The race having been reset, it wasn’t long since they’d last seen each other. Back then it had been under much less auspicious circumstances- Razzy restarting in seventh, behind Swifty. That called for a brave face and an honest assessment: do it right, and it’s not over yet.
Now there was no need for that. Razzy’s borderline infectious smile shone under the fluorescent lighting as they hunted for their team amongst the crowd of coaches and racers. Tension ruled the room—it was the finale, after all—but as their eyes met and Razzy dashed towards them, Berry felt a weight that had lingered for almost five years lifting invisibly from the both of them.
“I’m so proud of you,” Berry sighed, pulling Razzy in for an embrace. “That was amazing. Every moment of it.”
Razzy giggled out some leftover adrenaline. “I can’t believe it,” they squeaked. “I did it again!”
“This is your track,” Berry declared. “And I always knew you could do it.”
As Ruzzy completed the hug and delivered their own congratulations to Razzy, Berry glanced behind the pair to where a few of the lowest-placing racers were finally filtering out. Swifty, Mallard, and Orangin entered with various levels of despondency on their faces, and where Mallard and Orangin received a firm hug from Bombay and Mandarin respectively, Berry could read the disappointment in Quickly’s face like a book.
Razzy must have caught them staring, following their gaze and nudging them gently. “I beat Swifty… Did we hold seventh place?” they asked, too frazzled to math it out in their head.
“We came fifth.”
Razzy’s eyes went wide, and the smile vanished from their face. “There’s no way. Don’t say something like that.”
“One point. And you’re eighth individually.”
“When I find out you’re lying to me, I’ll…” Razzy declared, but the conspiratorial look on Ruzzy’s face had them grinning. “We beat the O’rangers? How? I knew I never saw Orangin, but—”
“They came 17th, cap,” Ruzzy laughed. “O’rangers, Speeders, the Kobalts, Team Momo—we beat them all.”
“I’m dreaming, then,” concluded Razzy.
“Bookending an M1 season with podiums? I couldn’t have dreamed this, even if I wanted to,” Berry declared. Then they glanced back to see White Eye with Yellow Eye and Blizzard with Snowstorm at the gate to the podium area, and the attendant looking their way.
“They’re waiting, Razzy. Let’s go.”
“White Eye and Blizzard, huh? What a winning combination,” Ruzzy laughed.
“Hey, now. I declare a one-hour embargo on stressing me out, okay?” retorted Berry, rolling pointedly towards the podium gates for the second time in the season. “See you soon.”
“Yeah, alright. Just don’t hog the champagne!”
Credits
- Writer: Millim
- Artist: Piney
- Copyeditors/Editors: Evolution, Stynth
- Reference: Marbula One S5 GP9 Savage Speedway Race | Jelle’s Marble Runs; Marbula One S5 GP10 Midnight Bay Race | Jelle’s Marble Runs
- Release: 16/11/2024
Project Marblearth 