M1S5 Memo #2: Rollercoast to Coast

Orlango (14/9/24)

In spite of how much the world around it had changed, Orlango remained best known for its cozy countryside vibes thanks to the many small towns and farms surrounding the city. It was a place where family and hard work had been cornerstones of the culture for generations, and there was no real reason to abandon those long-standing values even as modernity encroached over the years.

Such values were the antithesis of the tourist-beloved theme park in the middle of the city. The massive park in the middle of a city advertised nothing but happiness and magic to all who rolled through its gates, and the smiles of the many joyful visitors stood as proof to those claims.

Billy was not one of those joyful visitors.

They took a deep breath, in and out. It was going to be okay, they reassured themself. Even if their family wasn’t here with them and they were one social interaction away from breaking down, it was going to be okay. Mimo and Rima would come back any moment now and–

“Excuse me, would you take our picture?”

An unknown voice snapped Billy out of their thoughts. The asker of the question was not anyone special; an ordinary tourist with an ordinary family.

“S-sure,” Billy barely squeaked out while being handed the tourist’s phone. “Do you want the castle in the background?”

“Of course.”

Once the large castle was in-frame, the camera shutter went off many times in succession. Billy didn’t even bother to check if the photos looked good or if someone had blinked; they simply wanted this over with.

“Hey, thanks,” the tourist said, taking their phone back. “Really appreciate it.”

All Billy managed in response was a weak nod. Hopefully the conversation was close to ending.

“Wait, you look like Billy. Are you Billy? The one from the race yesterday?”

Billy’s eyes went wide in shock. “U-um–”

“No way! You’re sooooo cool when you race!” The tourist got a little closer. “Y’know, I was really worried you wouldn’t come back for this season… but you did and you showed ’em all why they should’ve never doubted you! Can I get a picture with you? Please?”

Billy opened their mouth to object, but all that came out was strained little squeaks. If only Mallard or Bombay or anyone else was here to chase this overwhelmingly excited fan off so they could go back to trying to enjoy this awful place–

“Hey, Billy! We’re back!”

They turned around to see Mimo and Rima approaching them. The two of them sported matching lanyards coated in metal pins that loudly clattered around and matching hats.

“Is this your group?” The tourist backed off. “I should leave you to enjoy the rest of the night. Thanks again for taking our picture!” The tourist turned away and started on their way elsewhere.

Rima gave Billy a nudge. “We picked a good time to save you, huh? Sorry for ditching you like that.” They gave a playful glance to Mimo. “Blame Mimo. Prioritizing overpriced little trinkets over a race winner’s wellbeing… how cruel of them.”

“They were on sale!” Mimo pouted. “You know how expensive everything here is!”

Billy could only sigh in response. As much as they hated the massive crowds and the overwhelming bustle of the park, having their fellow podium finishers nearby put them at ease.

“Have you been having a good time?” Rima asked, an uncharacteristic softness in their voice. “I know a fully-paid trip to a busy theme park isn’t the sort of thing you’d want for putting on a good show yesterday, but I hope you’re making the best of it.”

With a sigh, Billy nodded. “It’s okay… at least you two are here now.”

“And at least they’re closing soon,” Mimo added with a laugh towards the night sky. “Should be a lot more quiet if we wanna squeeze in something at the last moment.”

“That sounds nice,” Billy managed. “Any ideas?”

Rima looked around as if trying to find something to do. “We could get some more dessert, we could do some more shopping, or maybe go on some of the rides we haven’t hit up yet. Or we could always leave right now if you’re sick of this place. No shame in calling it a day.”

Billy looked up towards the starless sky, where colorful light displays from far-off fireworks were beginning to fill the darkness. “Now that you bring it up… I want to go on that one ride again. That rollercoaster with the weird and misleading name… Fatal Deathcoaster or something?”

Mimo’s expression lit up. “No way, you wanna go on that ride again!? I was literally thinking the same thing!” They turned to Rima with stars in their eyes. “You should go on it with us this time, Rima! It’s so much fun!”

“Oh! Umm… I’m good!” Rima refuted, looking considerably paler than usual out of nowhere. “W-who’s gonna watch your bags while you’re on the ride? Someone might steal all your overpriced gift shop stuff! That would be terrible, so I’m not gonna let that happen!”

“They keep our stuff safe on the ride, though.” Mimo gave a glance to Rima. “Is Rima, the self-proclaimed coolest racer this season, scared to go on the rollercoaster?”

Rima flinched at the accusation. “S-scared!? I don’t know what scared means! I’m just trying to be a good friend and make sure your bags don’t magically disappear while you’re out there risking your lives for supposed fun! You two are the ones who proved your doubters wrong, so the least you deserve is not having to worry about your stuff getting stolen!”

Mimo rolled their eyes before turning to Billy. “Y’know, I’m happy you’re back. Nobody should have ever doubted you.”

“Couldn’t you say the same thing about yourself, Mimo?”

“Maybe you could say that.” Mimo stared upwards. “We could pick this up later if you want. The ride line isn’t gonna get any shorter if we keep standing here and talking about our doubters. So instead of doing that, you wanna get our Fatal Deathcoaster on?”

For the first time all day, Billy’s laugh matched the happiness that’d surrounded them all day. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

(Art Credit: Evolution)

Om (21/9/24)

If there was anything more exciting than race day at the Momotorway, it was the relaxing day at the beach that followed. Having a beach at a race venue made it easy to instantly forget about the increasing pressure of the season the moment you rolled onto the sand and locked eyes with the waves that gently ebbed and flowed in a way that deeply contrasted the less than gentle nature of competition.

Wespy took in a breath of lightly salted breeze that passed by. It was strange that a mountainous region could play host to the sorts of things they’d only experience in the most tropical of cities – but it struck them as stranger than the city would decide to place a racetrack right along the perimeters of such a natural rarity. It made de-stressing after a race easy, though, so they weren’t going to complain.

They looked around the endless expanse of sand and surf. A few of their fellow racers had made the trip out here as well, enough to where a majority of their post-race day was composed of talking to familiar faces about the race instead of typical beach activities. With how many conversations they’ve had today, they were sure they could safely shift their focus from post-race talks to soaking up the last of what summer had to offer.

“Hey, Wespy.”

Wespy jumped at the out of nowhere greeting. When they looked to the source of the voice, it took them by even more surprise to see Swifty right next to them, settled atop a colorful beach towel underneath an umbrella with an expression far too miserable for a sunny day.

“Don’t scare me like that!” Wespy laughed nervously. “Didn’t see you there…. anyways, how have you been doing?”

Swifty scoffed. “I think you know how I’m doing.”

“Right…” Wespy sighed before continuing, “Are you enjoying the beach at least?”

“It’s fine. It would be a lot better if I wasn’t in the situation I’m in, but what can you do about that?” They took a sip of the drink they were holding; it looked like some sort of fruit blend.

Silence came between the two marbles, only the crashing of the waves against the sand daring to break it. There were a bunch of things Wespy wanted to ask, yet nothing came out every time they wanted to speak. Finally, they managed, “What exactly is this “situation” you’re in?”

“None of your business,” Swifty immediately responded.

Wespy’s expression fell. “What if I want it to be my business? Keeping your problems to yourself won’t help you. I’m okay with hearing you out.”

“I said, none of your business–”

Wespy didn’t say anything in response, but they got closer to Swifty and their expression grew curious.

Swifty took another sip of their drink before sighing. “Fine. If you wanna get wrapped up in our problems so badly, I guess I could entertain you…”

“What sort of title defense is this!? You’re gonna have to step it up at some point!”

Another concluded race meant another week of having to hear out Speedy’s endless woes about the season so far. They were warranted, of course; the only team to have ever repeated an M1 championship couldn’t afford these sorts of results if another title was the goal. But a racer who’d yet to place in the top half of a race had no right to complain about their teammate doing as poorly as them.

“Maybe you should consider your own suggestion,” Swifty responded. “Don’t act like we’re Team Primary and you’re single-handedly carrying the team!”

“Can you two stop bickering?”

Swifty turned their attention away from Speedy and towards Quickly. Their expression was hard to decipher, but it was absolutely the furthest thing from anything positive.

Speedy sent a glare to Swifty. “Maybe if Swifty acted like they wanted to win, this wouldn’t be–”

“Let me talk to them. You go do something else. Call Rapidly if you really need to vent,” Quickly interrupted. Speedy immediately backed away and left the area.

Swifty cautiously locked gazes with Quickly. “Coach? What’s all this about–”

“Swifty, I’m going to say this more politely than Speedy did: get your act together.”

“…wow,” is all Wespy had to say.

“Aren’t you glad you’re not on my team?” Swifty remarked between sips of the drink. “Told you it was none of your business.”

Wespy turned their gaze to the indistinguishable horizon that separated the sky and the water. “Is there anything I could do to help? I feel like I should help you.”

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do except hope I suddenly remember how to race properly. But I’m sure you’d hate that since us doing poorly is a reason for all of you to celebrate,” Swifty sighed. “It’s a lose-lose situation.”

“You know I don’t celebrate the downfall of my friends,” Wespy asserted.

The silence returned to the beach. Without thinking, Wespy got a little closer to Swifty, putting themself in the shadow of the umbrella and making themself comfortable on the sand. Swifty looked towards them, but said nothing – though their expression undoubtedly asked what Wespy was doing.

“I don’t think I can help you in any truly meaningful way,” Wespy started, “but maybe it would help you feel better in the moment if you weren’t alone. Nobody should feel alone.”

Swifty looked away. “You don’t have to–”

“But I want to. You seem to forget that not everyone hates you just because you’re on the team you’re on.” Wespy saw Swifty open their mouth, likely to object to the claim, but nothing came out. 

The gentle sounds of waves and far off laughter from other beachgoers were much welcome substitutes to the heavy conversation that preceded it – maybe that was them in some other universe, finally having fun after all the hard work this week, but something in them decided simply sitting in the sand and existing with someone was just as rewarding.

Credits

In the Shroud

A steep, treacherous climb in an area with low visibility. A hint of uncertainty that hung about as heavy as the dense air. But they pressed on, their determination unyielding, treading carefully on the jagged terrain to give it the respect it deserves, resolved to not let the mountain beat them. They had to do this. Why? They weren’t sure. That was the problem. They weren’t sure of anything anymore. 

All things considered, it was a terrible idea. The lack of signal meant they were entirely secluded from the rest of the world, and they had never climbed a mountain before. If something happened to them, nobody would know. They left no clues to their location, nor did they state their motives. Just a message to the team scrawled out on a sticky note that read “Back in a few days.” This was more than just a stroll to clear their head. This was a formidable task that threatened even experienced climbers. But they had to prove themself. They had to prove something unknown to them or anyone else. A personal achievement, a test of will, a testament to inner strength and resilience they felt the need to rediscover in themself. Doubt gnawed at the edges of their mind, but they brushed it aside, not even looking back down the mountain. 

Only forward, they thought to themself.

They had packed plenty of provisions and emergency supplies, enough to last a week if they got stranded up here, but their most vital resource was this inexplicable power driving them forward. The wind picked up the higher they went, but not even the thinning, chilly air could stop the progress they were making.

Soon enough, they were there. The top of the mountain. The peak was more of a plateau, with plenty of space to wander around, but the mist in the air made them uneasy. A fall here would mean the end. They had to be careful.

Tense and exhausted from the journey, they sat down on a rock and leaned against their backpack. They took out a granola bar and slowly began to eat it. Unfortunately, the climb had ended, and there was nothing to occupy their mind. The thoughts began to creep back in, the ones they were trying to escape. The ones that made them start this treacherous climb in the first place.

Am I good enough for the team? Will I be replaced? Do I even have what it takes anymore?

A more emotional version of themself would have started crying, seeking help and comfort from whoever was around and willing. But not today. They finished their snack and set off to explore the limits of the peak.  Despite the space around them, they felt claustrophobic. The thick haze that enveloped the entire region felt like it was closing in on them, all alone in the vast expanse of the wilderness.

And that’s when the visions started happening. The past memories, the disappointing recent finishes, the missed opportunities. All playing in vivid detail. Prominent among the swirl of tormenting thoughts were the words of their coach, still as cold and dense as the air around them. 

“I trust the other members of our team to succeed.” 

The other members. Intentionally hurtful or not, the words stung. And they played over and over and over in the intimidating, mysterious shroud of grey. They were so caught up in negative memories that they failed to notice the still marble in front of them until it was too late.

“Ow, what in the—“

The other marble turned around, having been bumped from behind. It was Hazy. They weren’t sure what they were expecting to be behind them, but they certainly didn’t expect a visitor. Hardly anyone came up here.

“Wait, what are you doing here, A—“

“Shh,” the visitor replied. “I don’t know why I’m here either. I thought I was alone.”

Hazy had so many questions that they couldn’t ask any of them. They just stood there, confused.

“I wanted to be alone, and now I’m not,” the other marble said. “I’m just going to turn around and—“

“Whoa, you’re not going anywhere,” warned Hazy. “You may have gotten up here, but there’s absolutely no way you’ll find your way back down without my help.”

And before they could protest, Hazy grabbed them by the backpack and dragged them through the mist. The visiting marble didn’t even care enough to resist. They simply asked “where are you taking me?”

“Someplace way safer.”

Hazy led them slightly down the mountain, to a makeshift home built into the side of the rock. As they entered, they found themself genuinely impressed at how Hazy had been able to construct a house like this in such a remote location. Hazy lit a lantern, then sat down on an ornate wooden bench, and motioned for the other marble to do the same. Seeing as how it was the only piece of furniture, they sat down on the opposite side of the bench, keeping their distance.

“Now,” Hazy spoke gently. “Please tell me why you’re here.”

“I don’t know,” the other marble said. They were telling the truth.

“Who knows you’re here?”

“Nobody. I told my team that I was going to be out for a few days but they don’t know where I went.”

Hazy looked stunned. “Goodness, that’s dangerous. You could’ve had any number of things happen to you.”

“I know,” snapped the visitor. “I don’t need you to tell me that. If there was any explanation for climbing up here, it was because I felt like I needed to prove myself.”

Hazy’s cold gaze fell to the floor. “You prove yourself every day, for goodness sake. You’re an athlete. You don’t have to climb one of the most dangerous mountains on Marblearth to prove anything to anyone.” They were genuinely concerned for their guest. “Talk to me, please. I’m here to help.”

The marble stared blankly at a bookshelf embedded into the wall. “You’ve seen the results. Or maybe you haven’t. Doesn’t matter. I’m a complete wreck. I don’t think it can get any worse. I’ve been a complete waste of space since the 2022 Showdown and I don’t see that changing anytime soon.”

“None of that is true. It’s nonsense and you know it,” Hazy said with a hint of sternness, only to be interrupted.

“I don’t know anything anymore!” the marble yelled. “I don’t know who I am or what my future holds.” Their voice wavered and got softer. “I don’t even know if I’ll keep my spot on the team.”

Hazy thought very carefully about what to say next.

“Do you love your team?”

The marble looked at Hazy expressionlessly.

“Do you?” Hazy continued. “Like, really, truly love them?”

“I… yes, but—“

“Of course you do. You’d do anything for them. I imagine you’ve helped the rest of them plenty of times through whatever they were going through. They would do the same for you, y’know.”

The guest marble looked down, lost in thought. Ten minutes ago they were flooded with despairing thoughts and couldn’t escape. Now they were dealing with thoughts of a different variety. 

They could no longer suppress it. The emotional side won. They burst into tears in front of Hazy, who looked on empathetically. 

“Oh, what am I doing here? I screwed up so bad. I’m so ashamed… I thought I was clever, getting all the way up here and figuring things out on my own, but I’m just… I’m just…” they trailed off, soon returning to uncontrolled sobbing.

Hazy wasn’t one to hug. But given that there was nobody else around, they had to make a choice. They closed the distance on the bench and wrapped their dejected visitor up in a reassuring embrace.

“You’re a broken marble,” Hazy said. The other marble nodded solemnly. “But you’re not the only one who’s ever felt this way. Before I left the League, I had the same awful experience. I felt like I was letting everyone down. But I wasn’t. Even if my results weren’t great, I still know how much I meant to them. You are the heart and soul of your team, and even if things don’t feel okay right now, I promise they will be.”

The other marble sniffled. “Thank you,” they said in a cracked voice. 

The two athletes sat in silence for a few moments, Hazy patiently letting their vulnerable guest regain their composure. When they were calmer, they asked Hazy, “am I the only visitor you’ve ever had?”

“No, you’re not,” Hazy responded matter-of-factly, remembering their time with Misty after the team failed to qualify for the 2022 Marble League. “There was another marble who was in a similar situation to the two of us.”

“Who was it?”

“I’d rather not say. But I’ll tell you the same thing I told them. Are you going to weather it out by yourself like I tried to do?”

The marble took a deep breath. “No, I promise I won’t. I’ll confide in my team just like I used to.”

“That’s the right answer.”

Under the dim glow of the lantern, Hazy saw the other marble smile for the first time. Hazy decided to lighten the mood.

“So, how was the trip up here?”

“It was gorgeous. Except for the part where I couldn’t see anything,” the marble replied. Hazy chuckled. 

“Do you ever leave the mountain?” the marble asked curiously.

“Occasionally, yes. I spent some time in Hailfern during the Christmas race. But I’ve learned to love it where I am. This fog can hide a lot of things, but you sure do learn a lot about yourself.”

“I’ll say,” the marble responded groggily. A couple seconds later, they were fast asleep.

Smiling warmly, Hazy held them there for a few more minutes. Then they grabbed a spare pillow and blanket they kept for cold nights, gingerly placed the pillow behind the sleeping marble’s head, and wrapped the blanket around them. Hazy then retreated to their own room and fell asleep shortly after.

The next morning, Hazy led the marble down the mountain. The fog had thinned considerably and the pair swore they could see the sun peeking through. When they reached the foot of the mountain, Hazy stood next to their hiking partner and after a few moments bid them farewell.

“Good luck out there. Please take care of yourself.”

“I will,” the marble replied softly. “Thank you for everything.”

With a renewed sense of self, they set off towards home.

“Azure! Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick!” exclaimed Cerulean.

“I’ll tell you everything in due time. But for now, just know… I went to see an old friend.” 

Credits

  • Writer: TheMADMAN731
  • Copyeditor/Editor: Millim
  • Release: 30/09/2024

Out of the Rolling – Event 14: Send a New Message

Aryp swung the door to their hotel room shut. Their thoughts were backing up in their mind like a clogged drain. If they didn’t do this right now, they were going to explode.

From under their bed came a cardboard box filled with “junk.” Next came their cutting mat, and from their bag came scissors, an x-acto knife, brushes, and a bottle of glue. Their collection of items had been built up since the start of the tournament for this express purpose. They knew when their time in this tournament ended – no matter how it ended – they would make a collage.

Aryp picked up a brush and slathered it with glue, then coated an empty page of their sketchbook in turn. They all but threw their brush into water when they were done, then snatched up a turquoise paper. It was smoothed over the wet glue, but the end result was anything but – peaks and valleys rippled across its surface.

This kinda looks like a mountain, Aryp mused as they eyed the edge of their tree-lined paper. They looked at the smiley face on their generic takeout bag, seeing clearly what it would be – a sun. 

Guess we’re doing Kinikolu scenery, they decided. Flowers would go great with that, so they fished up a goodie bag decorated accordingly. As they steadily cut out the flowers, their mind began to drift.

Sightseeing and eating and partying made for a great routine when Aryp had first arrived to compete in Marble Survival 100. Gradually, however, those things gave way to exercising and training and having meetings. When that happened, apprehension creeped in over enjoyment. It happened so slowly that it only hit Aryp a week or so ago, but once they noticed it, it was hard to un-notice. They tried to not let it affect their performance, but it was futile. Silly mistakes and bad lines piled up until there was nowhere else for them to go.

In today’s race, their last race, they had clawed back positions after a bad start. But then they were skirting to the side, then up against the back of Sea, and then it was over. They hated to admit it, but once the disappointment and shame washed away, there was relief; the pressure was off. They could not say they were unhappy with their overall performance – no DNFs, a handful of wins, and a good time. They could come away from this knowing that they did their best.

Now for the branches. They picked up the wreckage of the paper bag and tore at it again, coaxing it in the direction they wanted it to go. Holding it to the composition, they determined the branches were too light in value, so they got a wash of brown watercolor.

The brush and glue came back out as Aryp confirmed the new pieces were looking good, and the paper was slathered in glue once again. They placed the final bits with precision, making sure it was exactly to their liking. And just like that, it was done.

(Art/Photo Credit: Evolution)

The sun had not yet risen: over and above the early dawn, one could still see a constellation or two. MS100’s eliminated competitors revisited for the week’s final races, and an athlete’s social that reunited all of them had emptied out.

Swax may not have won the tournament. At the social, though, they were the center of attention for their deep tournament run. By this point, it had been hours since old friends like Minty Mint or teams they knew less well feted them. Now, the Bumblebee was focused on talking to one fellow competitor.

“Here’s a silly question,” said Swax. “I’m used to the heat in Kinikolu, it’s not far from how warm Buzznya is. But did that ever bother you here given how much colder it is back home?”

“Well, I’ve seen it all after all my globetrotting,” said the other athlete. “Honestly? I’d give up a month of travel abroad to take my time back home. Some of my friends I haven’t really seen in years. It’s not great.”

“Oh… well, anyone in particular who’s on your mind?”

“Oh, gosh. When was the last time I saw my coworkers at the old rocket base… I’d trade ten sponsor meetings to travel around with them!”

The athlete sighed and continued. “Also… some of my friends from the Stardust Classic. When I was in a regional league, we could hang out after the event, maybe tour the city together. You could befriend your competitors. At the highest level, all the time afterwards is spent with your team or with the press.

“There are familiar faces who I pass by in competition. But I have no time to say anything. It’s as if we are strangers.”

Swax replied with a smile. “Well, about that! I should’ve mentioned someone who wants to see you…”

A block away, Saucer was watching the first light. They had told Swax to not worry about them attending the social. They were more comfortable spending their time around teammates, like giving them a tour of the island.

The rest of the Rockets went to bed in their rooms, but Saucer stayed jittery and restless. They had spent most of the night reviewing tournament tape in their hotel room, sketching training notes in their notepad. Suddenly, they heard their phone vibrate and a text message pop up:

MAX SWAX

Got Starry heading your way! They missed you too. don’t be nervous about catching up now

Looking down from the balcony, Saucer could see a clear marble rolling to the hotel lobby. “You’re the best, Swax,” said Saucer to themselves. Then they were off and out of their room.

There were 99 races when you couldn’t count Yellah out. While Mellow Yellow fans would prefer their athlete had fewer brushes with elimination, climbing the rankings from behind was Yellah’s plan. They would rather get bumped aside the first few times they hit the track, such that by the second half they knew how to get past the traffic.

“It’s a marathon, not a sprint,” said Yellah again and again with a smirk. It was a long game they played, where even solving disputes between their rivals was a chance to study personalities. With Race 100 about to start, only one competitor remained.

It was Sea, who said to Yellah in the starting gate: “good luck, have fun.” Soon enough both were a third of the way into the race, and the Oceanic already blocked Yellah multiple times. Yellah took the bell carousel cleanly, but frustration was setting in.

They sped up to overtake Sea once and for all – only to overshoot a corner with a “pancake ramp,” sliding back behind a wall.

With that went the race.

Yellah watching Sea break away for the lead.
(Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)

Losing happens more often than not: Yellah knew that. Standing one rung below the top on the championship podium, the light show spinning around them, Yellah thought back to their first Marble League gold.

Yellah earned a round of celebratory bumps after winning Marble League 2017’s High Jump, but there was even more. The bronze medallist, Mimo, made sure all of Team Momo came up to congratulate Yellah. That included Momomomo, still on their crutches.

After the championship ceremony, Mellow Yellow booked a Kinikolu ballroom for the celebration party. Yellah and team captain Yellow were both pouring glasses of pineapple juice, but Yellow was on a tear. “I feel awful for you on how unfair that last track was. I was not happy about how it’s designed, you know!”

“Well,” said Yellah. “It can’t be helped. It’s not like we haven’t been runner-ups before.”

“It still sucks. Maybe it’s just me, but I think about loss much more than victories,” said Yellow. “There are those two times that Kinnowin beat me in a sprint, in 2017 and 2019! We meet from time to time. But, for seven years now, I avoid bringing that result up.”

Yellah didn’t know how to respond, though Yellow went on. “Sorry, maybe I’m exaggerating… but I act polite when needed. When I win, others congratulate me for a moment and move on. I don’t do more than that either to my competitors. Some things are better left unsaid.”

The next morning, Yellah had one more chance to look out their hotel balcony. Memories of the last few months lingered, and two others: that moment in 2017, and that moment with Yellow last night.

Did Yellah agree with their captain? Alone with their thoughts, Yellah could exclaim: “No, come on.” Then, checking they had an afternoon before the whole team would fly out, they had an idea.

Yellah had saved the contact of an athlete they stumbled upon in Kinikolu, someone they had not seen in years. To them, Yellah sent a text:

Yo
any chance you know where Sea is today?

Yellah and Sea on the final MS100 podium.
(Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)

Credits

M1S5 Memo #1: The Places Between the Races

Hunluen – 1/9/24

Exiting the elevator onto the bustling streets of Hunluen, Ruzzy didn’t realize for a few seconds that the sun had set in the half hour they were underground. The block was a blinding array of shops and food vendors. A department store opposite the vendors beckoned customers with neon arrows flashing in all manner of directions. A cacophonous tune thrummed from unseen speakers. The cart nearest Ruzzy was serving rainbow drinks that smoked like dry ice, and the LED sign of a candy truck proudly proclaimed, EXPLOSIVE! Across the square stood the Chaos Needle, a tapering observation tower ringed with skybridges, which lit up the surrounding buildings with a blue glow.

Ruzzy needed reorienting. They had been to Hunluen during M1S2, but this was their first time taking the train alone without Razzy’s excessively detailed navigation.

(Design Credit: Yume)

They settled as far from the crowd as was feasible to check their phone’s map. A few missed notifications lit up their lock screen – the noise of the nightlife had drowned out the vibrations.

[Momo 6:35] Just made it to the restaurant
[Momo 6:36] I’ll wait to order until you’re here 🙂 

Weaving through passersby, Ruzzy started in the direction of their dinner spot. Almost immediately, another notification popped up – a comment on their recent Rollstagram post: “You’ve done the Racers fans so proud! We knew you had it in you. A race my fam and I will never forget! #RaspberryRobust!”

Ruzzy liked the comment and returned their phone to their bag. This was one of dozens they’d received since their win the previous night, and dozens more on their team’s social media. This success was just as shocking to Ruzzy as it was to those watching. Probably to their competitors as well, though their disbelief was masked with polite congratulations and high fives. Ruzzy was no stranger to the Racers’ reputation. It was the team’s fourth outing in Marbula One, with only two bronzes from Season 2 to show for it. Any delusions of championship contention had escaped them years ago, and even fans weren’t showing the same enthusiasm as when the Raspberry Racers were new to the tournament. Ruzzy’s bronze at Arctic Circuit was a milestone in its own right – any team’s first medal in a sport is worth the celebration – but a gold and fastest lap after even your fans have lost hope was an entirely different beast.

Momo was standing expectantly under the awning of the restaurant, Burgemonium, and handed Ruzzy a menu as they exchanged greetings. It unfurled to the ground. If Ruzzy knew one thing about Hunluen cuisine, it’s that they would put anything between two pieces of bread. This was clearly no exception. Spoiled for choice, they chose a sandwich they knew they couldn’t find in Rubow – the “Sriracha Lookin’ At,” a spicy noodle burger rated four out of five peppers. Ruzzy would have gone for a hotter option had it not required a waiver. Meanwhile, Momo ordered the “All in Good Bun,” a sesame pork burger in a steamed dough bun, wrapped inside another layer of steamed dough. The two chose a table by the front window, overlooking the street.

“I hope the ride here wasn’t too bad,” said Momo. “The train system here is terribly confusing. My first time visiting, I took the train nearly out of town before I realized it.”

“Surely after the first hour, you’d put the pieces together,” replied Ruzzy in jest.

“My destination was two hours the opposite way!”

For someone defending a racers’ championship title, Momo was about as unintimidating as could be – and not just because of their current struggle to pick up a dumpling burger that was slightly too large for the provided chopsticks. Beating out marbles from top contending teams, Momo had been a dark horse the previous season. Off the racetrack, however, one might never be wiser to Momo’s competitive grit. Perhaps, Ruzzy mused, they were taking up Momo’s mantle. Not only had their team’s history put them under the radar, but they knew too well the reputation of a  reserve. 

Ruzzy glanced over at their phone as it buzzed.

rednumberdeux: “Are you kidding me? You can’t choose to be good now. You still don’t deserve to be here.”

This Rollstagram comment was far from the worst vitriol they had received since the announcement that the Racers were returning to M1, but compounded with the hot sauce from their sandwich, the comment made for an extra-sickening pang. There’s no proving your worth to those who had decided long ago how to feel.

Ruzzy put their burger down. “How do you handle the doubters?”

Momo was caught off guard. “I’m still learning that, really. Have to convince myself it’s a vocal minority. I still get comments from angry Red Eye fans. It kind of comes with the territory.” Ruzzy frowned, envisioning their future.

“For what it’s worth, you already did the impossible,” Momo ribbed. “I was just beaten for gold by a Raspberry Racer.”

“You gave me a great challenge though. Do you know how it feels to be chased by a Marbula One champion?”

“If you keep this pattern up, maybe I will.”

Maybe this really was the sign of a new era. Since the changes in the qualification system from Season 2, there was always an itch in the back of Ruzzy’s mind to return to the sport. Their record wasn’t favorable, but did they have to accept eighteen points and two DNQs as the best they could do?

After their meal, they headed back to the subway with Momo. The speakers were playing low, bass-heavy music. The Chaos Needle glowed a warm yellow. Halfway to the elevator, a Rollstagram notification again lit up Ruzzy’s phone. They pulled Momo aside.

“Uh, sorry to do this, I actually think I’ll explore the area some more.”

“Hey, no worries. I’m glad we could catch up! Don’t get lost,” Momo replied.

“I could say the same to you. Catch you in Zuro?”

“Sure, if I don’t see you at the boba place by the hotel tomorrow. Have a good night!”

Ruzzy watched Momo roll through the turnstile. Swiping away the notification, they turned around to head to the Chaos Needle. They were never one for flashy tourist attractions, but in this moment, being 600 feet off the ground sounded appealing. This weekend was already surreal enough. 

The observation deck afforded a panoramic view of the vast urban landscape – a tapestry of a rich, lively, ever-growing city that reveled in its oddities. Ruzzy gazed through the glass floor, the streets and bridges a shifting river of color and light below them. Suddenly, it was all silly. Why were they bothering with others’ opinions on their team? Screw that.  They had a gold medal. The Raspberry Racers were leading Marbula One. And the view from the top was wonderful.

(Art Credit: Momoikkai)

Zuro – 8/9/24

After two straight weeks of constant travel, all Shock wanted in the world was to eat and sleep. It was fortunate, then, that the third floor of their hotel was occupied by a giant restaurant.  

At the heart of the expansive dining hall were four circular buffet stations, ringed with transparent domes. Like everything in Zuro they were implausibly spotless, pulsing with blue light, and inscrutable. With no staff in sight, Shock resorted to awkwardly hailing down a fellow diner. 

“Hey, how does this place… work?” they whispered

“Tap your room card to open them,” replied the stranger, demonstrating it so slowly Shock began to feel vaguely insulted. 

“Where’s the staff?” 

“No staff, just robots and cameras.” On cue, a replenishment bot zipped past and seamlessly refilled a container of soup. 

“…Got it.” 

What they’d been lining up for in the first place was a giant lump of off-white dough. It was completely unfamiliar, but judging by the line forming behind them it was extremely popular. Shock didn’t hesitate to pile it high on their plate. In line with everyone else they then doused it with its neighboring dish, a fish stew. A high-intensity laser then sterilized the ladle.

Hey, this is pretty nifty! Shock thought to themself. And no staff means I can get however much I want! 

Lost in thought at the Zuronian History Museum’s special exhibit entrance, Snowy didn’t recognize Team Plasma’s M1 duo in the lobby until the pair hailed them down. 

Ecto’s greeting was as they’d heard a dozen times that day- “Congratulations on the medal,” but with an additional furtive “too bad about Red Eye, anyway.” 

Snowy feigned a smile. “Thanks. I lost fair and square, anyway.” 

“Are you gonna see the exhibit? We could come in with you,” Ecto continued. 

Snowy glanced back at Snowstorm, now deep in conversation with Fearo, and nodded. Good days left them more company-minded. 

“Hey, fantastic! This sort of stuff is right up my alley, you know.” Not knowing them well, what exactly Ecto meant by stuff was left up to Snowy’s imagination.

Wandering into the exhibition space, Snowy remarked to themself how different the place was to any history museum they’d been in before. As hypermodern as anything in Zuro, nothing of the past lingered anywhere but in the exhibits themselves.. 

Entitled Mining: Past and Present, upsized black-and-white photographs of Old Zuro took pride of place on ultra-thin LCD screens. The donkey-hauled carts of ore and dust-covered miners were almost unimaginable now, long-vanished and replaced with heat-absorbing pavement and ultra-high speed commuter rail.  Passing further and further through the exhibit, the industry itself progressed around them, new developments and discoveries explained in intricate detail through digital plaques and 3d-printed model miniatures preserved within hair-thin, ultra-strong glass cabinets. Production processes refined over decades- safer, more sustainable, more efficient, and more alien to how things had started. Much as Snowy couldn’t stand the idea of living in Zuro, hot year-round and endlessly cheerful, they couldn’t help but be taken in by it all.

At the very end they arrived at an interactive video display about the mining process currently employed, one where the closest a miner ever got to the rocks was through a screen playing a live feed through a robot’s eyes. Young marbles monopolized the attached try-it-yourself button array. The sort of novelty Snowy balked at, Ecto nonetheless appeared utterly entranced. 

“Fantum and Zuro are both mining societies, but I’ve never seen anything like this,” mumbled Ecto wistfully, directed at nobody in particular. “If this technology becomes the gold standard, our way of life will be completely extinct.” 

Only then recalling that Team Plasma had been miners once, Snowy shuddered. Maybe for Ecto it was a sad thought, but the mere prospect of prospecting was too claustrophobic for them to respond empathetically. They didn’t need to, though, because it wasn’t long until Fearo and Snowstorm caught up from behind.

“Hey, Snowy. I’m returning your teammate before we leave,” Fearo announced, beckoning a still-distracted Ecto to return to them. 

“You’re sure we can’t get dinner?” offered Snowstorm, pouting. 

“Afraid not. We have a congratulations call with our teammates after every race. Ecto?” 

“Enjoy yourselves,” added Ecto, still distant. “And see you in Orlango.” 

As the two Plasma members departed, Snowy’s head swam. They nudged Snowstorm as they waved goodbye, whispering under the din.  

“Why don’t we do congratulations calls?” 

Snowstorm’s expression turned knowing, leaving Snowy oddly aggravated. 

“Whatever you’re thinking, just say it,” they barked. 

“Well… how often did you call Snowdrift when they were in Kinikolu?” 

Snowy counted down in their head. One, two… three times. 

“I don’t see what your point is,” Snowy retorted.

“Maybe that’s why.” 

Ugh… my stomach…

Ever since their night at the buffet Shock had been plagued by intermittent stomach pains, hobbling both their qualifying attempt and their race. Now they were consigned to the medical tent, being checked for injury and being left to recuperate from the consequences of their overeating. Bolt and Thunderstorm loomed over them, their faces portraits of disappointment. 

“You know, sometimes I get called the team’s weak spot -” 

“Just leave it, please.” 

Credits

Roll to Survive: The Racers of Marbula 1 Season 5

Marblearth is now five years into the “Revolution in Marble Racing.” In that time, Marbula One went from a wild idea from Jelle’s Marble Runs to a global phenomenon viewed by millions.

As M1’s viewership shows, circuit racing was never as boring as “random marbles race around in circles.” When 20 teams at the highest level compete together, it is a sport full of hard contact and striking overtakes. Those who excel in the Marbula Championships are not just fast or strategic athletes: They also possess an elite mindset that steadies itself in spite of failures.

Some racers on the track have fought in all five seasons, personalities we have grown to love and hate. Others just started out or are still reeling from the attention after a breakthrough season. As much as one Grand Prix win can bring fame, a lack of consistency also dooms one to bad press and struggles within oneself.

What unites all these 40 racers, though, is a passion that did not fade away. They take on the track for a chance to win – to record their name in history. Project Marblearth looks back at where they come from, along with their hopes going forward.

Balls of Chaos

Anarchy: “The Revolutionary”

Were a team named after Chaos really going to keep the same roster four years in a row? That, at least, is how the Balls of Chaos fanbase made sense of their star racer Clutter’s indefinite leave from Marbula racing. Jumping into the fray was Anarchy, the team’s previous captain. In the years since a poor showing in Season 1, they have contested more racing events across Marble Leagues; last year, they can count on a Showdown podium in their name. We shall see if Anarchy’s experience will help them stay collected on the racetrack.

Disarray: “Scrambler Sphere”

The official reason for Tumult’s departure was to prioritize their team captaincy, after swearing they would eat a bug if the team cannot qualify for Marble League 2024. Replacing Tumult was Disarray, now two years into their promotion from reserve. While their racing record is unremarkable, Disarray earned a second look from the team after strong Marble League duo performances. Now Disarray’s fellow teammates praise them for their sense of teamwork, and the rookie was spotted practicing late into the night at the Tumult Turnpike. There’s no doubt this new racer is hungry to prove themself to the world.

Bumblebees

Bumble: “Unbeelievable”

Bumble buzzed into M1 with a strong first impression, netting two fourth places in a row. Although they’ve struggled with consistency since then, their flashes of brilliance – such as their silver in Casino Square – have kept them finishing top half in the racer’s championship. On the other hand, Bumble’s string of good results have left their teammates in their shadow and left themselves to cycle through a new racing partner in almost every season they’ve been in. This time, they are once again accompanied by Stinger, and Bumble is thankful for their wisdom and support as they fly towards Season 5 together.

Stinger: “The Pincher”

Stinger and Bumble’s contrasting uniforms belie a lengthy history between them. First as rivals, then as colleagues, and now as friends and teammates, Stinger became Bumble’s most recent racing partner last season. Now that all of the post-merger Bumblebees have participated in M1, the former Hornets captain is the one returning to Season 5 despite their uninspiring showing in Season 4, where they finished 38th individually. While they’re apprehensive about where they’ll place in the standings this time, for the time being they’re determined to make good use of their newly-gained racing experience for their second chance at M1. 

Crazy Cat’s Eyes

Red Eye: “Crimson Cat”

Red Eye is certainly the most decorated racer in M1 history, and the stats don’t lie: the accolades of most race wins, race podiums, and pole starts rest tightly in their iron grip. The biggest and brightest jewel on their crown is without a doubt their repeat individual titles from Seasons 2 and 3, but it’s not all perfection – for they failed to complete a threepeat after a single poor race that not even four medals could remedy. While they ended up finishing third, ML23’s Most Valuable Marble comes into this season with a vengeance they seldom know; it’s hard to not feel that way when someone takes away what you believe to be rightfully yours.

Yellow Eye: “Flashy Feline”

What’s the deal with Yellow Eye? The third place finisher in Season 2 suffered a slight drop in performance in the S3 – a drop too severe for White Eye, or at least that’s the prevailing theory. Rookie racer Blue Eye took their spot after Yellow Eye voluntarily resigned following their sophomore season, though some believe it wasn’t that voluntary given their usage as a scapegoat for denying CCE a repeat. The only thing that’s known about Yellow Eye this season is that they look to be in good spirits for helping their legendary partner claw the team up the standings in hopes that they’ll be the next team to win both the Marble League and M1 in consecutive blows.

Green Ducks

Mallard: “Captain Canard”

A memorable mishap from Mallard at Momotorway to lose a gold in Season 1 has perhaps come to define the tone of their Marbula 1 career; so close, yet so far. Almost four years later and Mallard is still chasing that elusive top podium step. That doesn’t mean they have nothing to offer the Ducks, though; now the only racer to have placed in the top ten individuals every single season since S1, Mallard is known for consistency, confident overtaking, and competitive drive. Only time will tell whether this year will see that commitment finally translated into gold. 

Billy: “The Kid”

More subdued in personality and less successful in M1 overall, Billy has always lived somewhat in the shadow of their twin. Last season’s weak showing also saw them fail to maintain their famous one-per-season gold streak, and sparked rumors of an incoming replacement. But family bonds held strong and Billy is back for the season, hoping to translate promising pole positions into potential podiums and redeem themself for the performance which contributed to the Green Ducks’ worst M1 season ever. It’s not all about performance, though – Billy has long been known as Mallard’s biggest fan and supporter, and the bond between the two and parent Bombay keeps the squad in solid formation. 

Hazers

Cloudy: “Silver Lining”

Coming off of a controversial decision to replace both racers in the Hazers roster, Cloudy quickly made a name for themself among the top athletes in circuit racing with their showstopping rookie season. The former reserve had spent years away from the spotlight before being promoted to the main team, but when called to Marbula One they immediately delivered, scoring their maiden victory in their debut race and an overall silver in the racer’s championship in their first season. Though their true feelings on their now-high expectations remain a mystery, for this season they’re cheerfully optimistic about the championship that eluded them last time.

Misty: “Mistical”

While they were overshadowed by their teammate’s more successful debut, Misty’s rookie season was not without merits, earning a bronze and supporting Cloudy to return the Hazers to their usual racing reputation. Unfortunately, they are perhaps more infamous for their slip-up in the final race of Season 4, failing to secure the podium in the overall team championship and continuing a notorious streak of poor finale results and missed podiums for the Hazers. Nevertheless, they have returned this season with a renewed confidence not just as a racer but as a captain, determined to redeem themselves and lead the team to a long-awaited victory. 

Kobalts

Royal: “Regal Marine”

Royal’s entry into M1 during S3 could be best described as an aftershock that followed the Crazy Cat’s Eyes’ S2-era radical shakeup of the competition. Replacing ex-captain Azure on the team’s roster, Royal raced relentlessly and excelled immediately, bagging several medals and even seizing the chance to be the decider at Mirage Meowntain’s O’rangers vs CCE battle for the season win. Season 4 saw them ever-so-slightly off their game in the latter half, whiffing their shot at the individual podium with a poor Casino Square performance, and that consistency issue is what Royal will have to grapple with if they want to make their third as good as their first. 

Cerulean: “Natural 27”

Not all stars that shine bright shine the brightest. Such is true in the case of Cerulean, who was a promising first racer for the Kobalts before Royal’s introduction stole the spotlight from under them. Still, Cerulean has made a name for themself over their years of competition, most notably with two medals in Season 2, and even if they’re criticized for not living up to the lofty ideals set for them by their teammate, they race not for the public’s approval but for the Kobalts, Zuro, and themself. 

Limers 

Slimelime: “Slippery Sensation”

A strong showing in Marble Survival 100 has earned Slimelime a ticket on the Limers roster for Season 5, replacing “Double Trouble” Limelime. Though they’ve yet to show their capabilities on the racetrack, their recent success has given them confidence even while they’re vastly outnumbered by racing veterans. To them, there’s plenty to look forward to, such as hosting Limelight Harbor with Lemonlime and the rest of the Limers, fighting the Raspberry Racers, and generally having an opportunity to prove to the rest of M1 that the Limers, despite their history, are more than what mere results suggest. 

Lemonlime: “Citrus Quickness”

The Limers have made their grand return to Marbula One after being absent from the competition for two seasons, and with them returns Lemonlime. Although some have cast doubt on their comeback, their expectations severely soured by Lemonlime’s 39th in S2, a lot has changed since then, and that’s more than enough reason for them to make another earnest attempt at the racetrack. Spurred on by a new coach, a new track, a new racing partner, and a new chance, Lemonlime’s S5 entry is their fresh start at M1, and they’re here to make the most of it.  

Mellow Yellow 

Yellow: “The Big Cheese”

After eight years at the highest level, Yellow remains known as Marblearth’s best sprinter. They have a Marble League-leading four gold medals, all in racing events and three of which being in the 5 Meter Sprint. Their mediocre Marbula One record comes down to a transition they never landed: going from racing with explosive energy to a style requiring endurance and tactics. With that said, the Mellow Yellow captain is more visible and confident than ever going into Season 5.

Yellup: “The Golden One”

Unlike their Marbula One teammate, Yellup’s race record in circuit racing has seen wild swings. To a casual fan who only watches Marbula One race highlights,  Yellup is known for flying off of the Season 2 Aquamaring track. Thankfully for the sport, Yellup refused to “stay gone” after that incident, sealing the ML championship for their team on the Marblocross track. While they kept a low profile after 2022, Yellup has resurfaced as they practice side by side with Yellow. On social media, they’ve repeated a new motto: “Once you get me going, watch and see.”

Midnight Wisps 

Wispy: “Threat Level Wisp”

Compared to their rookie teammate, Wispy knows a thing or three about M1, having been in all seasons except the last. Their performances across their career could be summed up in one word: erratic. A poor first season was followed by being the highest-placing racer without a medal in the next, and that was followed by being rather unnoticed outside of a bronze in their last outing. This go-around, the former captain is hoping for consistent success to avoid a team last place repeat. Having placed well in the ML23 Honeydome race with some laps led to their name, Wispy is confident in that race only being a preview of what’s to come this time.

Wespy: “Moonlit Maverick”

Wespy comes into this season as one of five racers to have never touched the circuit. The newly-appointed captain doesn’t seem all that bothered about it, though; at least that’s what can be assumed from sporadic comments where they mention completely trusting Wispy’s judgment as their racing partner. There may be reason to be skeptical of their inclusion after their underwhelming ML23 individual event results, but there is just as much room for optimism after they managed to lead the Wisps to a top-half finish that same season, and show the world flashes of their 2018 brilliance once more; though if they can repeat the feat in M1 is left to be seen.

Oceanics

Nereid: “Stormchaser”

A withdrawn yet adventurous marble, Nereid is already a well-known personality even before they joined the Oceanics. They were known as the Oceanid Oracle on the internet for their knowledge of Marbles and Monoliths, and as a prominent member of the Oceanics organization, throughout their funding. After Bay and Aqua left, they were asked to join the team, and even M1, to showcase their talents. Despite the challenges of being a new member, they surpassed expectations by placing fifth individually in the Champion’s Sand Rally, showing just why they deserve to be in M1.

Siren: “Song of the Sea”

A famous idol worldwide, Siren is a recent addition to the Oceanics. Despite their origins being obscure, they made sure that they expressed everything about themselves through performance. Despite being known more for singing, they they also show their athleticism from time to time, evident from their dance routines and their showing in the Champion’s Sand Rally. Despite this, they were still attached to the free life of a performer. While they were first reluctant, they decided to join Nereid in M1 to show that they could ride the wave of opportunity to victory.

O’rangers

Orangin: “True Orange”

Prior to their introduction to the M1 circuit, the youngest O’Marble sibling was a relative unknown. It’s perhaps exactly this factor which has pushed them to prove themself – and prove themself they have, with a highly-charged performance at Electron Expressway and a stellar showing at the Stardust Accelerator being only the most recent jewels in their crown. In fact, throughout the entirety of the season, they never placed below tenth. Yet immense success brings with it a heavy yoke. Those with their nose to the O’rangers rumor mill tell tales of a hardened heart and a burdened, anxious competitor, constantly trying to live up to the family name. 

Clementin: “Our Darling”

Never let it be said that the way you start has to define how you continue. Clementin began Season 4 with back-to-back bottom-of-the-barrel results at both their home track and Sakura Garden, bringing the usually-united O’rangers fandom into disarray over their standing on the team, only to net the sibling duo their highest points haul of the entire season with a near-perfect showing at Misty Mountain. They were even able to secure an overall third-place with a fourth at Casino Square. This season, Orangin’s rowdy big sibling is determined to get off to a better start and keep the OOOOOOOO’s flowing from the stands. 

Pinkies 

Pinky Panther: “Funnel God”

No marble in recent memory has achieved a rise to stardom and recognizability quite like Pinky Panther’s. Contributions to the Pinkies’ solid 2020 and 2021 Showdown performances booked them a place on the M1S3 squad, but it was their incredible showing in ML22 that shot them – and the Pinkies – to the summit of glory. They haven’t achieved the same level of improvement in M1, only going from a 19th to a 13th in S4, but Pinky Panther has still been at the head of it, with their individual placement in 20th being their most promising asset heading into Season 5. 

Pinky Toe: “Perfect Pink”

After a season spent experimenting with Domino Bowling star Pinky Winky, team captain and Sand Rally expert Pinky Toe is back from Season 3. It’s under their command that the team has shown their drastic three-year improvement, though they buck the expected trend of the captain as first racer. Whether Pinky Toe can improve upon their disappointing first season is up in the air, and with Pinky Panther unlikely to carry the team, their ability to rise to the occasion will likely determine whether the Pinkies can stake out another season in the midpack. 

Raspberry Racers 

Razzy: “Rider in Rose”

Nobody has ever accused Razzy of giving up. Call it passion or stubbornness, it’s on Razzy’s authority as captain that the Raspberry Racers are back for another M1 season despite their disastrously poor showing in Season 4. It’s not that Razzy’s M1 outings have always gone horribly wrong – they were able to achieve a personal-best individual 20th in Season 2 – but fans and bystanders alike typically agree that horribly right is too much to hope for. Still, perhaps more out of love for the sport than anything, they’ll be giving it their all once more come Season 5. 

Ruzzy: “Nimble Thimble”

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a marble in possession of a great desire to race in Marbula One must be in want of a willing second racer. Since starting in 2020, Razzy’s options in that area have grown slim, and with all of the other Racers refusing, Ruzzy became their only choice. That the two are known to share a particularly deep mentor-protege relationship likely has something to do with Ruzzy’s willingness to come back – certainly more than their lackluster Season 2, which was only redeemed with a bronze at Arctic Circuit. Could this year be any better?

Savage Speeders

Speedy: “Speed Freak”

No story of Marbula One can be told without Speedy, who has captained their team to two season championships. Having faced everything in the sport from lead battles to an injury on the conveyor belt, there is little that Speedy’s mind cannot prepare for. Yet, Speedy has not had a Grand Prix win to their name since Season 2. The former Racer Champion, who fellow racers used to fear having to overtake, lacks that former aura. How will this M1 legend continue to surprise us as they face tougher and tougher challenges from a new generation?

Swifty: “Fearless”

While Coach Quickly avoids discussing it in depth, their decision to swap out Rapidly for Swifty had a huge payoff. Throughout Season 4 Marblearth saw the veteran Speeder in strong form, finishing eighth in the racer standings and scoring the team’s one win at the Greenstone GP. With the press more interested in them, Swifty is still happy to be a team player, in no hurry to praise their own greatness. Especially after bottom half performances in their ML23 individual events, Swifty has room in Season 5 to make an even bolder statement in marble sports. 

Snowballs 

Snowy: “Coldest Comet”

Snowy weather might light up the night, but the Snowballs as a team have always had a dark cloud above them, and no marble better exemplifies that than Snowy. When not struggling to qualify or contentiously removed from M1, the Snowballs’ iconic captain has had the misfortune of being just a single step behind glory twice now, landing just below Speedy in the Season 1 racers’ championship and Red Eye as ML23’s MVM. The weight of tumultuous fortunes has hardened Snowy’s heart; producing a marble both desperate to recapture their glory days and skeptical that it’s even worth it to try. 

Snowstorm: “The Unrelenting”

In Season 2, when they replaced the now-retired Snowflake as part of the Snowballs’ M1 duo, fans hoped Snowstorm would be able to make the team a fighting force in the team championship as well as the individuals. This misplaced optimism led to severe disappointment when Snowstorm landed in the bottom fourth individually and the Snowballs earned a team 12th, then were removed from M1. Their return in spite of this stormy past perhaps signals that internal issues with the team still prevail, with Snowy more willing to take a chance on their old friend than their newer teammates – regardless of the pressure it puts on Snowstorm. 

Team Galactic

Starry: “Ursa Superior”

Hushed voices whisper it in paranoid tones in darkened corridors of racetrack backrooms and dejected team meetings – Starry Syndrome, that most feared of conditions. A beloved and exceptional first racer indeliberately causing a less successful second racer to wither in their shadow is a punishing situation for any team, and Starry has been the former so often that most associate the dynamic with them. It hasn’t knocked Starry’s confidence, though, and they remain one of the most consistent and lauded racers on the field – perhaps the most successful to have never netted an individual podium. Can they change that this season?

Quasar: “Stellar Sidekick”

While Cosmo’s retirement following a disappointing Season 3 was considered almost inevitable, Quasar’s introduction to the Team Galactic roster in Season 4 was met with a certain reluctance amongst fans skeptical of the reserve’s merit. But Quasar demonstrated some serious racing chops after a rough start to the season, picking up a silver at home in their final race of the season, and put most of those doubts to rest. They even came closest of anyone to Starry’s performance in the season, a single step behind them in 14th individually. Still, it took two seasons for older sibling Pulsar to be replaced, so the pressure is on for Quasar to excel here and put an end to Team Galactic’s internal war for good. 

Team Momo

Momo: “Winning Dumpling”

Until recently, Momo has spent a majority of their M1 career in the shadow of their teammate, with season results ranging from somewhat forgettable outings to worth forgetting entirely. It wasn’t until their fourth season that the captain found sustained success – though success may be an understatement. A season of top-half consistency headlined by their maiden race victory led them to a summit few have reached at the top of the racer’s championship podium. The questions around Momo have taken on a new tune these days; what was once asking if they deserved to keep racing is now wondering if they can handle the expectations that come with defending their unlikely title.

Mimo: “First Reserve”

Mimo is inarguably best known for their heroic efforts to save Team Momo’s 2017 season, but over the course of four seasons they’ve made just as much of a name for themself on the circuit. In their first three outings they never returned home without a top half finish and a medal to go with it, but an uncharacteristically disappointing Season 4 saw this trend break with only barely missing the top half in a medalless season. After rumors of their M1 departure were laid to rest, Mimo hopes to return to championship-contending form; for both championship dreams and ensuring they never have to leave Momo’s side.

Team Plasma

Fearo: “Power Particle”

Team Plasma supporters joke that their team’s Marbula One duo should be called “The Fast and the Fearious.” Not because Fearo has a temper: it is just admitting Team Plasma’s captain seems to do everything at all times. Fearo was rarely seen practicing ahead of this season, as they were deep in preparations for the team’s ML qualification. They will lead the team off on the Tumult Turnpike, surely with some of the skill they showed at the start of Season 4. It all comes down to if Fearo will flare out again, or burst to even greater heights.

Ecto: “Full Charge”

With much of the responsibility for the day-to-day falling to Fearo, Ecto has become both the clear second-in-command and the team’s premier racer. They demonstrated Team Plasma’s capabilities at the O’raceway in Season 4 by netting a silver medal, and remained the most consistent of the pair going forward, but they too were ultimately not immune to what has been Team Plasma’s curse so far – the inability to keep consistent over a season’s length, whether that be in the Marble League or Marbula One. With a firmer, more assertive personality and racing style, will it fall to Ecto to save the team this season? 

Team Primary

Aryp: “Color Wheel”

Aryp has seen many changes since the last time they were in Marbula One – a promotion to captaincy before Marble League 2023 and a stint in JMR’s newest tournament, Marble Survival 100, where they finished fifth. The roster itself is also seeing a change – that it has remained for two seasons. Aryp and Rima shocked the crowd last time with their steady rise to the second step of the podium. Between the two of them, Aryp is known for being a consistent jack-of-all-trades racer. They have told themself that, rain or shine, they will enjoy this season. But coming off of such success, can they truly have no expectations?

Rima: “Rimarkable”

Rima’s first go-round in Marbula One wasn’t spectacular, finishing in 30th with three pointless races. On their second try last season, however, they showed much improvement. Their skillful overtaking was a sight to behold; at its most extreme, even after qualifying abysmally in Casino Square due to a sharp hit against the wall, Rima still managed to rise from 19th to 8th in eight and a half minutes of racing. A spitfire on and off the track, they are adored by fans, though they perhaps still sit in the shadow of their teammate. No matter what the case may be, they are determined to do their best once again.

Thunderbolts 

Bolt: “Mjölnir”

In life, there are few things as rare and precious as a second chance. And after a Season 4 that saw them last individually and the team only bailed out by a bronze from Thunder, few expected Bolt – or the Thunderbolts as a whole – to get one. But their racing pedigree from better seasons past seems to have come through for them on this year’s list of invites, and Bolt will be returning to the track with a mind to recoup the place amongst the greats they lost last year. 

Shock: “Gigawatt”

On the surface, Shock is a racer worthy of a return. They were the first to break any “Marbula host curse” with a silver at the S1 Short Circuit. Recently, they finished in the top 10 of Marble Survival 100. But unlike Captain Thunder’s relationship with fans, Shock is viewed by their fanbase as a heel: an athlete who is complacent and tries no more than they need to. We have thus heard little from this racer, apart from sightings where they exchange advice with Bolt. Credit to Shock for, at a distance, looking very demure and very mindful.

Credits

  • Writers: Evolution, Fouc, Millim, Momoikkai, Steel, Toffeeshop
  • Copyeditors/Editors: Evolution, Millim, Stynth, Phoenix
  • Graphics Credits: Toffeeshop
  • Release: 01/09/2024

Out of the Rolling: Event 13 – Life’s A Beach

Swathes of white sand extended before them, lapped by the calm early afternoon waves. Bonbon sighed and reclined back against their lounger. In weather like this they felt as if they were slowly melting; that they might wake up and find themself a puddle of chocolate on the floor. But it was a rare treat to relax so thoroughly. Being very busy – and Bonbon was very busy, even busier since having taken up the mantle of captain – tended to keep you out of your thoughts and within reality. There was no time to think or to simply exist. But having gotten so far in the competition, there was now nobody on the Chocolatiers who could say a word to them about taking a little time off. 

As they were on the brink of being lulled to sleep by the shade, a raucous back-and-forth of voices swelled behind them and jolted them back to reality. Bonbon only offered the consternation a frustrated backwards glance until it grew louder and more recognizable as Rezzy and Slimelime, engaged in a heated exchange of barbs. By the look and sound of it, it was a beach volleyball game turned sour – Rezzy was standing by the net looking smug with the ball in their possession, while Slimelime’s litany of epithets alluded heavily to an incident of poor sportsmarbship. Bonbon rose reluctantly out of their seat and rolled towards the site of the incident. 

By the time they got there they were far from the only beachgoer to have been drawn to the incident. Perhaps the best thing about it happening on a beach was that few had their phones out to record. Just as the two drew in closer and the confrontation appeared to be on the brink of physical hostilities, Bonbon forced themself between the two. 

“Enough!” they exclaimed, pushing on each side. “What on Marblearth is the problem now?” Specifying the now was very necessary; between the two of them, myopic conflicts emerged and re-emerged like weeds. 

“Rezzy’s been cheating,” accused Slimelime.

“Hah!” laughed Rezzy. “Sorry, but you’re not even worth cheating against –” 

“Take that back this instant!” Slimelime snarled. Bonbon backed a little closer to them, hoping to pre-empt a lunge. 

“– you just can’t cope with the fact I’m better at you than this. Just like with everything, ever.” 

Before Slimelime could respond in kind Bonbon issued an ahem loud enough to silence them. They turned towards the crowd, some of which had at least dispersed now a physical confrontation looked less and less likely. 

“Go back to your business, folks. Not all clowns deserve an audience.” Most obeyed, returning to whence they came. Bonbon turned back to Rezzy and Slimelime. “Listen – I don’t care who started it, who was or wasn’t cheating, or anything like that. Acting like a child isn’t going to fly here.” 

Slimelime glared at Rezzy. “They started it! Even going back all the way, it’s always been their team starting it.” 

“Yeah, of course you think that –” 

“What did I just say?” yelled Bonbon. “Children, the both of you! Over a decade since whatever happened between you in the Fruit Circuit happened and you apparently haven’t spent a single day of that growing as marbles.” 

Slimelime and Rezzy exchanged a stunned glance. Bonbon’s heart was beginning to pound, but they weren’t done yet. 

“Look, I know you’ve already decided I don’t get it, it’s special or something. But it’s not like we were all happy and smiley back in Surculo. We just knew when to quit for our own good! And if you can’t figure that out for yourself, then –” Bonbon snatched the volleyball out from Rezzy’s grasp “– someone a little less patient will do it for you.” 

With that they spiked the ball onto the point of the net’s nearest stake, piercing it with a vicious hiss. Slimelime and Rezzy watched its slow deflation with a mutual, indescribable emotion. 

“…You got this far, didn’t you?” sighed Bonbon, coming down from their emotional high. “Just… try and enjoy it. Apart.” 

As the ball hung lifelessly from where it had been impaled, Bonbon put distance between themself and the still-stunned duo. This time they rolled into a floatie and out into the ocean, where they floated silently under the sun. In the far distance, Rezzy and Slimelime wandered away from each other. 

Bonbon inhaled and exhaled, tasting the salty air, and began to think. In hindsight it had been a terrible idea to allow the two of them to tag along on a trip they’d planned for the explicit purpose of relaxation. But their rivalry made such little sense that a little part of them always imagined they’d have realized that suddenly and made up. It made just as much sense for the Savage Speeders to suddenly set their sights on the Solar Flares.  

If I was on a championship team, Bonbon thought, I’d never even think about the Limers again. And if I was on the Limers, I’d fix my own problems before starting new ones. 

And if I was me… Well, I’d flake out on an eighty-percent chance thanks to a chevron spinner and flub the best chance we’ve ever had of winning something that matters. Such is the Chocolatiers way.  

A gull squawked high above. Bonbon shut their eyes. 

Oh, well. At least I can enjoy a nice day at the beach. 

(Art Credit: Piney)

Credits

The Distant Dream

In any given Marble Rally season, the finale parties were always a highlight of the competition. This year the grounds of a small castle resort nearby to the sandhills had been rented out and made the site of the first of two celebrations. Strings of twinkling lights hung between lampposts, raised flowerbeds, and a grand central stage, waiting to shine when the afternoon turned to evening. The entirety of the field, A-League and B-League alike, were assembled there, save for three notable absences – Crazy Cat’s Eye and Wisp of Darkness, who stood atop the stage, and Blue Moon, who was nowhere to be seen and had not been seen since the previous night. 

Even amongst the beautiful surroundings, most hovered impatiently around the catering table adjacent to the stage, which had been stocked with refreshments in the form of drinks and an ice cream buffet tailored to the tastes of the racers. The opening ceremony of the event was to herald its opening, but it had already been delayed ten minutes. Amongst those close enough to the stage to listen in, there was little speculation why. 

“I’m not rehearsing this a second longer,” insisted Wisp of Darkness, voice barbed and hoarse. “If you don’t like what I say and how I say it, that’s your problem. Everyone else loves me.” 

“Even Big Pearl and El Capitan?” sneered Crazy Cat’s Eye in return. “Whatever. Fine. Just don’t embarrass yourself.” 

On CCE’s command a bell was rung by the Ghost Marble, standing behind the stage, bringing the hungry crowd to attention. A sea of eager expressions turned towards the uncooperative hosts. 

“Welcome to the pre-finale party, everyone!” roared CCE. “Thank you all for attending. I’m your host, and Wisp of Darkness is here too.” 

Grumbling, WOD rolled to the front of the stage. “It’s our honor to be hosting today’s festivities… even if it’s more a formality than anything.” 

CCE glared daggers at WOD. “It’s something we take very seriously. Now, usually we’d begin things with inviting those who haven’t gotten a podium yet up to the stage, but at the moment, we do have someone missing, and we’ll be waiting for them to arrive.” 

“Blue Moon still isn’t here?” said Wisp of Darkness. It was meant more as a whisper, but it didn’t come out like it, and soon the entire crowd was scanning the room for any sign of the championship frontrunner. 

CCE rolled their eyes. “Obviously,” they whispered. They coughed and faced the crowd again. “In lieu of that, everyone, please enjoy your evening!” 

A punctual clapping spread amongst the crowd, then broke as they descended ravenously upon the refreshments, leaving the hosts to their quarrels once more. 

Lollipop did not stick around the celebration long. The party being partially their design, it was no coincidence that the venue was particularly artistically stimulating, containing both a botanical garden and a tall grassy hill which offered a perfect vantage point on the centuries-old main building. Once the initial announcement was over they departed to the hill and set up their easel, switching between a landscape painting of what laid before them and a congratulatory portrait of Blue Moon each time their mood changed. 

For a while they were alone, but it wasn’t long before they were joined by Superball, calling out for them as they came over the crest of the hill. A particularly strong gust of wind blew as they rolled over to the peak, shaking the trees and chilling the warm summer afternoon air. Lollipop kept their sketching paper pinned, but it still protested, dancing with the strength of the blustering gale. 

The two greeted each other with a friendly nudge, and Superball settled next to Lollipop, gently moving a long-forgotten bowl of rose ice cream out of the way. Having been ignored, it had melted into a strong-smelling pink soup, once-embedded pieces of lokum floating on the surface like icebergs on an alien ocean. 

“Aren’t you going to eat that?” asked Superball, removing their headphones. “I think I’ve already had three bowls of peaches and cream.” 

“I wanted to,” said Lollipop, returning to the white shine on Blue Moon’s uniform, “but I kept worrying about it giving me a stomach ache before the race tomorrow, and I just couldn’t.”

Superball frowned, endearingly confused. “But you’re not lactose intolerant.” 

“True. I just don’t want to risk it, you know? I even ate my breakfast cereal without milk this morning.” Just remembering the parched flavorlessness of dry wheat biscuits made Lollipop shudder. “Maybe that wasn’t worth it. But I can’t stand the thought of losing my chance to autoqualify over something so petty. I mean, this party was already so stressful to put on- giving hosting rights to a random marble from each league was not the way to go.” 

“Mhm.” Superball laid back, humming a tune. Reinvigorated winds dragged cotton ball clouds across the sky as Lollipop switched back to the landscape painting. 

“I only have so long to paint this. This scene – this moment in time – is something that will never exist again. And before photographs, this was the only way to remember something visually, so you had to get it right.” A blot of paint formed the swollen blossom of a perfect rose. “Right now, whatever happens, I’m going to remember it forever. So, I want to get it all right.” 

“I think you can go all the way,” replied Superball, wide-eyed and sincere. “I really believe in you. Honestly.” 

“Even if that means I actually do beat you?” 

Superball nodded. “Of course.” 

“Well, when you put it like that… I’ll do my best.” 

“Say pepperoni!”

A stark split second flash burst from the bulb of Reflektor’s camera. Slimer and Ducktape blinked as it hit them, but they kept their pose, leaning in to each other to both fit inside the traditional camera’s narrow frame. A thin slit near the base ejected a photo which revealed itself in front of their eyes, Reflektor stowing their camera away again in the meantime. 

“Awwww, it came out so well!” exclaimed Ducktape, holding the photo up to the sun. Slimer’s face furrowed as they scrutinized it further. 

“I dunno. I look a little cross-eyed.” Slimer turned to Reflektor. “Thanks for that. And sorry for the inconvenience.” 

Reflektor chuckled. “Not at all, not at all. Actually, I’m getting paid for the photography tonight, so it’s really no issue.” 

“Oh, really?” replied Slimer, punctuated by a sigh. “Listen… I can’t tell you what to do with your life, and it’s not something I can speak about from experience, but it’s better for your performance if you switch off for a bit with your other job while you’re here. Cameras will still exist when you get back to Cromavila.” 

As the two conversed, Ducktape wandered off, still holding the photo, back in the direction of the ice cream buffet. 

“A gig is a gig,” countered Reflektor. “And this is a good gig. Besides, I think my season is a little spoken for at this point.”

“If you look at it with that attitude, it will be! You’re still fighting for an auto-qualification spot; even a podium. Go on – think back to a time you were sitting in the lineup for a qualifying race and tell me you won’t fight now for a year without having to feel that.” 

“The odds are fifty-fifty,” Reflektor sputtered half-heartedly. 

“And my odds are zero!” scoffed Slimer. “I say this as the defending champion – you’re clearly a capable racer, and a good season is just successful races stacked on top of each other. A gold tomorrow and you could overtake Dragon’s Egg and Pollo Loco.” 

“I’ll keep it all in mind,” Reflektor conceded. “I’ve been battling Blue Moon this whole season, and now they’re so far ahead… I don’t know. When someone beats you so decisively, it’s hard to be confident.” 

Ducktape returned as if on cue, balancing three bowls of ice cream – black raspberry, ube, and red berry. Reflektor took appreciatively what they could only assume to be their own bowl. Getting to eat on the job right in front of everyone was a rare treat, but somewhere like this was different. Everyone knew each other. As much as marbles like WOD and CCE fought, they all shared the same values. 

“I’ll be fine, though. It’s not as if I’m going to throw the race,” added Reflektor, a little more brash. 

“Good,” replied Slimer. “Actually, speaking of Blue Moon… Any sign of them yet?” 

In every season they competed in, Pollo Loco found time for El Capitan. The “Crazy Chicken” had the idea to step away from social events for an afternoon, so both racers could test out the helix sections at Doornse Gat. But, as both of them were atop a branch bridge for a breather, Pollo Loco’s friend was driving them up a wall.

“I can’t deal with Big Pearl!” yelled El Capitan. “You know how next to some marbles you can feel they’re up to no good? I tried to have a face to face with them the other day, so we can agree on no dirty tricks in the final race. But you won’t believe what they said–”

“Well, you want to finish up these Implausible chicken strips first?” said Pollo Loco, nudging their lunch box over. “They’re getting cold.”

El Capitan indeed held off, grabbing and practically inhaling one of the strips. “Wow, Pollo, how good of a cook are you? Nobody could tell this is a vegan dish!”

“Well, now that I have your attention,” said Pollo Loco. “Where was this hatred of Big Pearl before this season?”

“Well…  To rephrase, I did not dislike them. However, I also cannot trust most competitors like I do with you,” replied El Capitan. With that, Pollo Loco kept pressing their friend over all the other legacy racers El Capitan swears are colluding with Big Pearl: Ghost Plasma, Dragon’s Egg and Summer Sky.

“Okay, that’s enough!” concluded El Capitan. “I had no grudges with any of them, and perhaps not now either. But the pressure is on. I have my title on the line. How can I trust my opponents not to take any advantage they have?”

“I’m saying this reflects more on how you think about winning,” said Pollo Loco. “Maybe you’re the unhealthy one for assuming everyone else thinks like you.”

Taking another breath, Pollo Loco raised their voice: “And maybe you should get away from Quicksilver’s venting to stop freaking out over every little thing!” Those words made El Capitan go quiet.

“Let me…” The maroon rallyist murmured twice or thrice without continuing, which made Pollo Loco think: Was that over the line?

El Capitan finally said: “Let me say that Quicksilver is not a bad marb either! You could benefit from a few pointers of theirs for your next race! I mean, gosh, now I feel like the bad one for not asking you how you’re feeling.”

“Well, a podium would be nice,” said Pollo Loco. “But the stars will shine however they will. If I lose out, it is what it is.”

“I disagree! If there is a time to go crazy, it’s now!” interjected El Capitan. “Mi amigo, take it from someone who ended the season at the top. The fans are not chanting for anyone in fourth place! Just know what it’s like when you step on the podium. It will transform you.”

Rolling forward, El Capitan looked back with some words for their friend: “Here’s some motivation! Watch how I take this last sector on this track. Then let’s catch up at the finish line.” They leapt off the branch, onto the track and off to the distance.

Pollo Loco, instead, turned around to look back up. It was the helices and chicanes over there that beckoned more for them. Just have to stick to my routine first, thought Pollo Loco. I’ll chat with friends later.

As much as Big Pearl enjoyed a bit of socializing and complimentary ice cream, tonight’s party was soured by the possibility of confrontation with their on-track rivals. In the case of Wisp of Darkness, it was practically guaranteed, and while it would probably be more bearable than another run-in with El Capitan, they didn’t want to take that chance. In the midst of an entertaining debate between Ghost Plasma and Cool Moody on the merits of white chocolate ice cream versus chocolate ice cream, they ended up slipping away to a wisteria-clad pergola in a deserted corner of the garden, followed by Dragon’s Egg. 

“Do you think there’s really that much of a difference?” 

Dragon’s Egg shrugged. “They taste the same to me.” 

Big Pearl sighed, setting their own ice cream down on a bench. Dragon’s Egg followed suit. “Honestly, those two. It’s hard to believe the tournament’s already almost over.” 

“Time flies fast,” Dragon’s Egg agreed. “Are you and El Capitan doing okay? I saw you trying to avoid Wisp of Darkness back there, too.”

“They’re just annoying,” Big Pearl dismissed, but their voice had an edge to it. “Wisp of Darkness is…fine, just unexpected. Neither of them matter. I can win.” Then, quieter, “I need to.” 

Dragon’s Egg glanced at them carefully. The evening breeze rustled the wisteria above. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

The question was said so softly, it could have been lost to the wind. Big Pearl could have pretended not to hear it. Instead, they hesitated, uncertainty etched clearly in their face. Early evening moonlight dripped through the pergola lattice as Dragon’s Egg awaited their answer. Big Pearl closed their eyes, unable to bear looking at anyone or anything, and made their choice. 

“I miss who I used to be,” they confessed hoarsely. 

Years and years ago, when everything was new and unknown, they had sped down the sand track with wild abandon and ascended the podium with their soon-to-be lifelong friends. And then they would never reach the same heights since, dropping down, down, and despite how hard they fought, suddenly, they were deemed unworthy to participate at all. 

When Lollipop had called them that night, there was a small, evil part of them that whispered: you could go back. 

They’d made the right decision back then, and the right decision hurt. 

“I want to go back. I want to join you guys again. To be worthy, I guess – I don’t know.”

Dragon’s Egg looked concerned. “You don’t have to prove anything to us.” 

“I know!” Big Pearl glared at the ground. “This is for me.” 

The evening darkness had fully set in, cloaking the two marbles in swatches of shadow and moonlight. The ice cream, long forgotten by now, had fully liquefied. 

“I understand,” Dragon’s Egg said quietly. Their voice held pure sincerity. “Thank you for telling me.” 

Big Pearl nodded their thanks, finally meeting their eyes again. “I’ll be rooting for you too, when you’re up against Blue Moon tomorrow,” they promised. “I know you said the odds were stacked against you, but it wouldn’t be the first time. Second championships for both of us, right?” 

Dragon’s Egg hummed. “…It’s mathematically possible.”

Unlike the rest of the field, Blue Moon did not like parties. Attending was only an obligation, and where even Superball showed up and enjoyed themself nowadays, it was politeness that got them through the door. But the prospect of being the guest of honor at the second-biggest party of the season was too much to bear. The additional attention paid to them – lingering gazes, furtive whispers as they passed by, airs of reverence and defiance in equal measure – put them ill at ease. 

What had gotten them to this place was a series of logical decisions. It felt surprisingly good to win a silver medal, and the only place to go from there was to win a gold medal. When you won a gold medal, the only logical step up was to win another. Or, maybe, to win the entire season. But now they had followed everything to its logical end, overcome with uncharacteristic ambition, logic had deserted them, and emotion had remained. And thus they had deserted the party and begun wandering the streets, hoping that perhaps this had all been one long, strange dream. 

Cars occasionally passed, but not until a little blue vintage car pulled up beside them did they recognize one. Its driver’s window was wound down to let in the cooling air. When Blue Moon peered inside the relative darkness they saw Comet, wearing a slick pair of sunglasses, behind the wheel. 

“Get in.” 

It wasn’t exactly a command – and it wasn’t as if Comet could do much if they refused – but Blue Moon obeyed nonetheless. Inside the vehicle the mood was dark and still, like a half-forgotten nighttime drive from their childhood. Having taken the back seat, they couldn’t see Comet’s expression, which was already half-masked by their sunglasses. Claustrophobic, Blue Moon thought. But they didn’t leave. 


“Don’t drive away yet,” Blue Moon asked. And whether Comet was honoring that or simply hadn’t planned to, they didn’t. “Are you going to take me to the party?” 

“That’s the plan.”

Blue Moon sighed. “I didn’t go for a reason, you know.” 

“I figured. You’re not the type to forget about something like this,” Comet sighed. “But they’re holding up all the ceremonies until everyone’s there. It’s nothing personal.” 

Blue Moon exhaled. “Fine. I don’t want to cause any problems.” 

Comet keyed into the ignition as Blue Moon wound their own window down. Pretty soon they were on the road. Even on a Friday night traffic was almost nonexistent, but the price of a stylishly old car was a puttering speed – and a tinny radio for one of Silver Bolt’s old songs to play over. 

“I try not to presume things,” Comet began, “but you don’t seem very happy about being, uh, basically guaranteed to win the entire season tomorrow.” 

Blue Moon shrugged. “I don’t want to win.” Then their brain caught up with their mouth. “Um, but don’t tell anyone else that, please.” 

“Okay, well, I try not to be overly simplistic, but if you didn’t want to get this far you could have started throwing. If I can do it, anyone can.” 

Blue Moon tried to form their afternoon of contemplation into an evening’s worth of explanation in their mind. “I like racing. I like winning the races. I don’t think I should be a champion.”

“Why not?” asked Comet, waiting at a light. 

“Well…  I came all this way, and then I realized it; a champion is more than someone who can win races. A champion can win everyone’s hearts. I don’t really have a story. I didn’t dream of this. And I don’t like attention. Is that what you have in mind when you think champion?” 

“I dunno. I think a champion can be anyone. Sure, I didn’t expect it to be you, but my opinions are basically irrelevant, right?” 

In the distance loomed the dark outline of the party’s stately venue. 

“I don’t want my life to change. I’m happy being the ordinary marble I am. And if I was suddenly different… I don’t know what I’d do with myself.” 

“Yeah, well…” Comet replied, trailing off as they drove into the carpark and drew to a stop. “Life comes at you fast sometimes. Like, say, getting really famous all of a sudden. But it doesn’t have to change who you are.” 

“Now, for the first of the night’s unofficial awards, I’d like to invite up to the stage the racers who haven’t received a medal yet – from the A-League, Blazing Fireball, White Widow, and Comet, and from the B-League, Cobra.” 

CCE’s voice boomed out from the stage and down to the crowd, and the four mentioned marbles took to the stage. Amethyst, in the company of Summer Sky and Grasshopper, watched the proceedings with an expression of relief, having narrowly avoided being amongst them. Deep Ocean and Marbly McMarbleface had the honor of distributing the medals, plastic replicas purchased from a nearby costume store. 

Begrudgingly, CCE passed the mic to WOD, who spoke in turn.

“All of us come to the Rally for different reasons, but none of us come here to lose. Yet sometimes losing is part of reality. We all face it, and it always stings. What makes the difference is that we go through it together, good times and bad. And we represent amongst us the best of sand racing on Marblearth! This has been an amazing season, and it couldn’t have been that way without everyone here. Thank you all, and I hope you enjoy the rest of our awards tonight – next up is Most Stylish.” 

Uproarious applause followed the end of the speech. Atop the stage, WOD handed back the microphone to CCE. 

“That was… surprisingly good. I almost can’t believe you wrote it yourself.” 

WOD smiled smugly. “I’m not just a once-in-a-generation racer.”

“…Right.” CCE glanced off to the side, where the mostly-pillaged ice cream table remained. Between Quicksilver and RN3 was Blue Moon, scooping out a serving of their namesake ice cream. “Better save some of those smarts for tomorrow. After all, who knows what might happen?” 

Credits

  • Writers: Fouc, Millim, Toffeeshop
  • Copyeditors/Editors: Evolution, Phoenix
  • Artist: Toffeeshop
  • Release: 10/08/2024

MRS7 Memo #9: Preparations

Wisp of Darkness takes the lead after a scuffle in the catchbasin. (Photo Credit: JMR)

Wisp of Darkness was not known for their overwhelming cheer, but after two golds in a row, it was hard to be anything but happy. Across the finish line they were surrounded by the other B-League competitors, all of whom had seen the same standings WOD had – standings that guaranteed them a podium and even put them a point ahead of El Capitan. 

H2 Blue, who had come second, rolled over to them, so full of cheer that they were almost bouncing. Overtaken with excitement, the two began to spin each other around. The sky and the sandhills melted into one as they did, and they kept going past becoming dizzy and until El Capitan arrested WOD’s momentum. 

El Capitan looked unperturbed, but in a thin sort of way that seemed to mask discontent. WOD’s stomach faltered when their eyes locked. 

“Mighty impressive out there. I suppose you’ve turned this shootout into a standoff,” said El Capitan. WOD winced internally – that hadn’t really been their plan, after all. Winning races came before winning overall. 

“Uh, yeah. Hey, no hard feelings or anything,” replied WOD, unconsciously drawing a little closer to H2 Blue.

El Capitan smiled. “Of course not,” they added, before rolling away. WOD watched their departure with relief. 

They turned to H2 Blue. “Even when they’re smiling, El Capitan can be so… imposing, you know?” 

“Pssssh, it’ll be fine. Just show them the business next race, right?” chirped H2 Blue. “You’ll love being on the podium. It’s an amazing feeling – and I should know.” 

–

Amethyst felt the tears well up as soon as they stepped off the podium, the marbles around them scattering towards press conferences and interviews that they too were soon required to attend. In the meantime, they began to dust themselves off, taking care to avoid getting sand on their new medal.

A nudge made Amethyst snap back to attention. “Sorry! I don’t mean to get in your way.” 

“Relax, it’s just me.” Summer Sky drew up elegantly beside them. “Us third placers should stick together, right? Congratulations on the bronze. You deserve it.”

Amethyst blushed. “Thanks. It’s a shame about the rest of my season.”

“I was down in 15th in my second year,” Summer Sky reminded them. “Not to mention Ghost Plasma. I knew someone of your racing caliber would have overcome it eventually.”

The blush turned into a pout. “Why couldn’t you tell me that earlier? I could have really used it.”

The older marble contemplated their answer for a second. “I didn’t want you to base your self-esteem off of the encouragement of others,” they said finally. “Trust me, it’s not a good idea. You fought through every struggle and earned this –” they indicated Amethyst’s bronze. “– because of you.” 

Amethyst’s heart fluttered from the praise. “I… thank you.” 

“No, really! I’m glad you’ve taken to the Marble Rally so well, given how late you joined. You should be impressed with yourself.”

“Cool Moody joined late,” Amethyst pointed out, before envisioning the sunglasses-clad marble sauntering across the dunes in their debut. “Okay, Cool Moody is different.”

Summer Sky stifled a laugh. “Hey, after the interviews, do you want to wander around town? A night out with just the two of us.”

Amethyst practically sparkled with anticipation. “I’d love that.”

–

A little bit of decompression time after a race was always good. Usually Lollipop spent it working on paintings or updating their social media; this time, they were rewatching their race, paying the sort of close attention to it they hadn’t when they’d been running it hours earlier. At times racing itself could be instinctual rather than calculated, based on a cultivated familiarity with the sand underneath and the shape of the track. Seeing themself from a bird’s-eye view finally made it clear exactly where things had gone so very right. Smooth racing, aggressive overtaking, control on the parts of the course that had caught marbles out before and would do so again – it all came together in parts, like a painting unfolding onto the canvas. 

Of course it hadn’t been perfect – a little more and they’d have been in first. But that felt a little much to ask for after a midseason of relentless disappointment. Now they were looking at a potential autoqualification – but how potential? 

As the Lollipop on the screen came to rest in the catch basin, their phone buzzed beside them. They already knew it was a text from Superball. They had never been able to apply their brain to the art of math and equations like them, and so they’d asked Superball to run their odds. And there they were, on the screen – 14.5% to podium, 41.7% to autoqualify in fourth. 

It wasn’t Blue Moon odds, but they liked them all the same. 

Speaking of Blue Moon – where were they? For the most likely incoming champion, they sure liked to evade the cameras…

Blue Moon, Lollipop, and Amethyst on the podium for Race 9. (Photo Credit: JMR)

Credits

Out of the Rolling – Event 12: The Impossible Distance

Words. So many words. Way too many words to get through, and Shock was tired and miserable and just wanted to finish reading before they went to sleep. 

‘It was then that Romblis noticed a marble in the corner of the room. Their old friend was standing, waiting, with a smile on their face. Despite all the troubles and obstacles, it was all going to be okay in the end…‘

A big tear fell and landed with a splat onto the page as Shock remembered the events of the week. The pressure that had brought them this far, but had not allowed them any further. It was alright for Romblis; characters in books always got a happy ending. But where was Shock’s? It was too easy to put on a front of strength when racing with your team, but the competition doesn’t stop for anyone, and individual competitions like these put a spotlight on every participating marble. 

And it wasn’t like they had failed as badly as some marbles had, they reflected. They hadn’t had a DNF this week, and only came last once. But even Mandarin had so many successes that they were probably celebrating right now with the support of their entire team behind them. Where were the Thunderbolts? Off at a party, probably—that or training. But even that seemed more fun than the radiating isolation that came with being eliminated. To be honest, they had only just scraped by for most of the competition. Or that’s how it felt. 

Shock slammed the book shut and wiped their eyes. It wasn’t right to say those things, even internally. They had done their best, and it hurt an indescribable amount, but they hadn’t done awfully. They were one of the final ten teams, and that was something, right?

The moon gazed down from on high, eerily peeking through empty windows and rippling through the darkness that crept along rooms where marbles slept. But like Shock, Mandarin was not asleep. They frowned at their laptop and paused, the sudden silence echoed in the absence of frantic typing.

“This is pointless,” they grumbled, turning to gaze out of the window, where they were met with nothing but the void of night staring back at them. Mandarin hadn’t spoken to any of their teammates yet, and had refused to check their phone. They were sure that their inbox would be full of supportive and reassuring messages; that’s the sort of team that the O’rangers were. But somehow, it didn’t feel right. Mandarin couldn’t let themselves have any excuse for the tragic week that had just passed and ended in elimination. Blow after blow, they had let everyone down and were not about to let anyone convince them otherwise. This was the price of strength, the price that came with being the oldest. 

They turned back to the computer at the open document where they were writing a book. A book that was nowhere near completion, though they supposed that was somewhat comparable to their performance in the competition. So close, yet so far. Gone were the days of Mandarin’s successes, or so it seemed. What was the point? Their efforts never went anywhere, it was like walking backwards in the direction of nothing.

Mandarin rolled around the room in frustration. It was so difficult to describe the loneliness that surrounded them. Their team and family were far away, and nothing could distract them from the pain of defeat. 

“Mandarin? Are you in there?”

Mandarin spun around in surprise, staring at the door. It sounded like… but it couldn’t be.

“Clementin?” They hurried to the door and opened it to a concerned looking Clementin who paused in the doorway in silence. For a moment, neither spoke, and Clementin looked afraid.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know if…” they tried to say, but Mandarin didn’t respond and their expression didn’t change. Another minute passed in awkward silence before Clementin sighed and started speaking at great speed apologetically.

“I’m sorry, you’ve not been responding for hours and I was really worried about you so I flew over immediately and—I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have. I’m glad you’re okay but I’ll leave if you—”

Mandarin rolled over suddenly and barrelled into Clementin for a big hug.

“Thank you. I’m sorry, too.”

Mandarin gazes out over the hills. (Art Credit: Phoenix)

Credits

MRS7 Memo #8: Light and Shadows

El Capitan overtakes Summer Sky and attempts to overtake Big Pearl in Race 8
(Photo Credit: JMR)

The post-match interviews were always more exhausting than the actual races. Ghost Plasma wondered why they were consistently surprised by that fact, as they rolled off towards Spirit and Dragon’s Egg took to the microphone.

Spirit, looking particularly cheerful, was quick to roll over and embrace them. “There’s the marble of the hour! Great work out there, champ.”

”You know me, Spirit,” the racer responded, smirking. “Back-to-back medals are kind of my thing these days.”

”Well, one of them,” Spirit replied, their tone turning slightly more serious. “Just remember not to get too caught up in that and forget about your other back-to-back reputation.”

Ghost Plasma frowned slightly, and Spirit knew them well enough to know that they’d hit home. The regular DNFs were a sensitive point, not that Ghost Plasma liked to let that on. They didn’t want to ruin the mood, though, and quickly got back to smiling. ”Doesn’t matter right now though – you won! And you’re still in the running for the title!”

”Mathematically speaking, anyway,” Ghost Plasma chuckled.

”Oh, for goodness sake Plaz, are you still banging on about that?” Dragon’s Egg rolled over, smiling. The three glanced at each other, before bursting out laughing.

Ghost Plasma was the first to recover. “Ah, who am I kidding? I’ve never fought a lead this big back from you, Eggsy.”

Dragon’s Egg smiled. “Very true. I’d be better off keeping my eyes closer behind me if I want to win the championship.”

”Your second championship,” Ghost Plasma reminded them.

Dragon’s Egg smiled, but Ghost Plasma could tell their friend was uncomfortable. “Eggsy, there’s nobody in the field who deserves a second title more than you right now, and you know it.”

Dragon’s Egg smiled back at Ghost Plasma, more genuine this time. “I know you think so. Come on, let’s go find Pearl before they get themself caught up in another tabloid headline with El Capitan.”

If there was one good thing about being in the B-League today, it was escaping the terrible sand conditions of the A-League race. Still, a post-race shower was non-negotiable, even if they were dusted with sand rather than covered with it. That, and a meal. Which would be easier if they hadn’t rolled straight out of their room, into the corridor, and into El Capitan. 

True to a movie cliche, the hallway wasn’t big enough for both of them. El Capitan had stopped in front of the door to the lobby and there was no way of getting past them without a confrontation. 

It didn’t have to come to that – yet. 

“Evening, Pearl. Fine race today.” El Capitan always had an air of confidence about them, but right now they sounded downright smug. “Always a little ahead of me, aren’t you?”

Not that they have anything to be smug about, Big Pearl thought, keeping a straight face and leaving the rhetorical question unanswered. The space between them filled with tense silence, but they were not about to let El Capitan play mind games with them. 

“Crazy Cat’s Eye got your tongue? We may be fighting for the top, but there’s no reason you can’t have a friendly conversation with me.” 

“Just let me pass,” replied Big Pearl, rolling their eyes. El Capitan grimaced, their ice-cool facade faltering briefly. 

“You don’t act like this with Dragon’s Egg or Ghost Plasma, do you?” 

Something snapped in Big Pearl. They drew close to El Capitan, using the element of surprise to back them against the wall. Two could play at this game. “The past is the past. We’re fighting for a title now. Let’s get that straight.” 

Annoyed but sufficiently intimidated, El Capitan drew back, unblocking the door. Big Pearl didn’t wait to roll out of it, hoping to forget the encounter. But what El Capitan said next sent a shiver through their glass. 

“Fine. But when someone has a confident attitude like yours… iIt only makes it more fun to grind their dreams to dust.” 

Usually, a race win meant you got to have a nice evening – or even just a pleasant conversation – with the athletes on the lower rungs of the podium. But when they were Big Pearl and El Capitan, and the B-League standings looked the way they did, that was never going to be the case. Initially Wisp of Darkness had thought themself lucky to find Phoenix similarly unoccupied;- now they weren’t so sure. 

“…because it’s completely silly, utterly embarrassing, even, for both me and them, and I’m half inclined to burn this place down. You agree, don’t you?” 

“Mhm,” Wisp of Darkness mumbled, nodding tepidly along. Truthfully they had long lost track of what tangent Phoenix had launched into most recently, picking their deflated croissant to shreds on their plate to stop them losing their mind. 

It was still all the encouragement Phoenix needed. “I’ll complain first, obviously. Something about me doesn’t gel with the tracks – or maybe it’s the starting gate. Perhaps both.” 

Oh, they’re still bemoaning their bad season. As they had been since they’d arrived at the cafe. “But you just won a bronze medal.” 

Phoenix huffed. “After seven races of humiliation. This was supposed to be my comeback season! My rebirth! Now look at it,” they whimpered. “It’s in tatters.” 

WOD glanced down at their croissant. “Not knocking eternal angst here, but you’re not the only one not getting what they want. I missed qualifying for the season to Pollo by two milliseconds. Two! I didn’t even know what a millisecond was until I started racing.” 

“So we both have problems,” Phoenix concluded. “Your point is?” 

“I dunno. Try and appreciate what doesn’t suck?” 

Phoenix began to tap the table as Wisp of Darkness watched, sneaking croissant shreds into their mouth while the gears turned in Phoenix’s head. Then something clicked, and they smiled, existentially reassured. 

“Well, if nothing else… Superball probably won’t make the podium this year.” 

Ghost Plasma, Dragon’s Egg, and Phoenix on the podium for Race 8. (Photo Credit: JMR)

Credits