One Second To Midnight

O’rangers

“Geez, it sure took a long time to get here… Did we have to be blindfolded the whole way?” 

“It wouldn’t have taken so long if Tangerin had just listened to the GPS.” 

“There was a road closure! I wasn’t going to bust down a fence to cut five minutes off our trip.” 

“You should have let me drive.” 

“Okay, that’s enough spoiling the mood out of the two of you. Rango, if you’d be so kind as to let our racing duo see their reward?” 

“Certainly.” 

What Clementin and Orangin saw as their blindfolds were removed and their vision returned was a room decked out in black-and-orange decorations; classic O’rangers banners and glittery Halloween baubles blending together seamlessly in the low light. The centerpiece of it all was a squat black table stacked high with handsomely-sized pumpkins, each tagged with a name like a Glassmas present arrived two months early. To the side was a toolbox’s worth of pumpkin-carving equipment, ready for slicing and gutting and all other techniques of true pumpkin artistry. Also provided was a veritable buffet of Orlangian snacks, the likes of which they hadn’t seen since departing their home region. 

“No way!” exclaimed Clementin, rushing towards the haphazard pile with an unabashed grin. “I thought for sure we weren’t even going to celebrate this year.” 

Orangin was a little more cool-tempered, but even they couldn’t completely constrain their excitement. “Helarvians don’t even have pumpkins on Halloween. How did you get these?” 

As they herded Kinnowin and Tangerin to the pile, Mandarin shrugged knowingly. “I always get my way,” they replied cryptically, and Orangin knew it to be true. The best pumpkins had been reserved for the two racers, with Orangin’s so heavy that they were almost tired just carrying it to the sanitary mat which was laid out on the floor. Meanwhile, Clementin loaded up two bowls of snacks, one for them and one for Orangin. 

When they sat down Orangin was already hard at work, carefully marking out an arcane plan on their pumpkin’s orange exterior. Clementin, meanwhile, got straight to the disemboweling, filled with a single-minded vision of their pumpkin’s fate. Hunks of pumpkin gore fell wetly to the ground until an orange heap formed out of skin, spare flesh, and seeds. The two worked together in mostly-wordless unity, gnawing occasionally on the snacks provided. 

Midway through a chocolate snack cake, Clementin looked around the empty room. Having the entire family in one place again was nice, but it was all almost too much for the six of them to enjoy in a single night. “We should have had a party,” they mumbled, quietly dismayed. 

Orangin shook their head dismissively. “Nobody would have come.” 

“There was one last year, during the league,” Clementin protested. At that party the entire team had dressed up in tabby-cat costumes and gone around knocking things off of tables and other high surfaces; a joke only appreciated by the joker. 

Orangin didn’t concede. “It’s different. This late in the season everyone is your enemy. Playing nice is only possible when you forget what’s at stake,” they mused as they put the finishing touches on their O’rangers-themed pumpkin. 

“What if… We only invited the teams that are doing badly?” suggested Clementin. Their own design was long-finished, the stereotypical Halloween pumpkin with its haunting grin and triangular eyes, though with the addition of a whimsical mustache above. 

“Parties are always the best when everyone there is existentially frustrated and ready to fight each other for scraps,” Orangin countered sarcastically. “Oh, and the Balls of Chaos and Team Primary are both there too.” 

“Okay, okay!” Clementin laughed, though a certain tension underlied it. “Only a suggestion.” 

Orangin drooped to face the floor. “Sorry… I feel weird. I’ve got so much ground to make up if we want a shot at the podium, and when I think about it, I just can’t imagine enjoying being around the other teams.”

“Yeah… I get what you mean, I think,” Clementin replied, nodding. 

“That, and I’m not happy with my season. Everything but the race win was meh. That’s not what our fans expect of us, and it’s not what I expect of myself,” surmised Orangin. 

Clementin nodded again. “But success always comes and goes, doesn’t it? You could be Royal… or Aryp. The way I see it, at the end of this season, we’re still going to be the only team to go blow-for-blow with the Crazy Cat’s Eyes at full power and win. That has to be worth something.” 

“Well, will we be?” Orangin asked, speaking to the elephant in the room. 

Clementin chuckled. “…I suppose that depends on how much faith you have in Mallard. Hey, how about we bet a month of chores on it?” 

“Two weeks,” Orangin countered. 

“Deal,” Clementin replied, and they shook on it. 

Snowballs

It was a long time since Snowy had last been to Helarve. In those three years the city hadn’t changed much, if at all, and they followed the same paths to the same hotel they’d stayed in the last go-around without issue. Not that it made much difference, as since the incident in Dunduei three weeks prior they’d gotten into the habit of not going out if they didn’t have to. 

Instead, it was Snowstorm handling the team’s publicity for the day, taking interviews about their prospects for a first-ever team podium before attending a fan gathering and meeting with the Gliding Glaciers in nearby Vanillsinki. At least that was the schedule as had been briefly communicated over text. Though they’d never said it outright, Snowy knew what was going on – whenever possible, Snowstorm was avoiding them. But it was fine. Once they were on the podium together, they’d get over it, and soon everyone else would follow. An audience could judge and jeer to their heart’s content, but there was no such thing as a medal for good sportsmarbship. 

Still, there wasn’t much to do alone in a hotel room. Over the past few weeks they’d exhausted their collection of favorite films on streaming, and now they were left to browse their phone endlessly between showers and eating room service at their leisure. Sometimes they glanced outside, watching a wet morning’s rainfall sputter on the city below. 

It was just as they put their phone down to pace around the room that it began to ring. 

“Is this Room 181?” asked the speaker. They picked it up expecting the call to be from Snowstorm or Blizzard, but the caller’s voice was unfamiliar, as was the number. 

“Who is this?” Snowy asked, tensing up. 

“Oh, sorry. It’s the front desk at the Grand Helarve. There’s a visitor for you, saying that Snowstorm sent them.” 

Snowy let out an involuntary sigh of relief. Snowstorm was just ordering takeout for them again, they thought. “Send them up, thanks,” they mumbled, hanging up right after. For lack of anything better to do, they sat motionless at the foot of their bed and anticipated the knock on the door. 

When it came they opened the door expecting an anonymous deliverymarble, but at the turn of the doorhandle they were greeted by a face that, even after two years of separation and a change of uniform, was recognizable enough to send Snowy’s blood running cold. 

“Snowflake?” they gasped, more an animal noise than a conscious expression, and the marble at their door smiled back.

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” That their voice hadn’t changed a lick made Snowy’s heart race. They welcomed Snowflake inside eagerly, cautious to shut the door in their stead. Ever since the incident at the Hivedrive with Glide, Snowflake had weighed endlessly on their mind. All of the pain and dysfunction of years was theirs to take away, and now they were back. 

Snowy spoke through held-back tears. “I’m so glad you’re here! I have so much to tell you about,” Snowy exclaimed, their voice at fever pitch, as they eagerly guided Snowflake over to their desk. “You’ve been watching the season so far, right? Pretty great, huh?” 

Snowflake smiled, and Snowy immediately mirrored them. “It’s been fantastic, Snowy. I told you it wasn’t over, and I’m glad you took that to heart.” 

“Yeah!” Snowy squeaked, now overflowing with pride. “I knew we weren’t actually going to be down and out forever after Season 2. It was just that we weren’t getting the recognition we deserved – and look how well things are going now we are!” Snowy declared, their mouth running away from their thoughts. Nevermind that they had said and thought all that before – Snowflake was back and everything was different. 

Slightly uneasy – not that Snowy noticed – Snowflake nodded. “It’s very impressive.”

Snowy continued, unabashed. “Now things are actually going our way, I bet I could get Blizzard to put you back on the team again – have you been training? You’d love -” 

“Snowy, wait a moment,” Snowflake interjected. “You’re talking too fast.” 

“Oh.” Even mild criticism was a dagger through the heart coming from Snowflake. “Sorry.” 

Snowflake took a shallow breath and averted their gaze. “I’m not going to rejoin the team, Snowy. That’s not what I’m here for.”  Hearing that sent Snowy’s stomach lurching. “I said I’m really proud of you, and I am. Really, I should have told you sooner. But I’m also worried about you.” 

Snowy scoffed at the ridiculous sentiment. “Worried? I’m doing amazingly! I’m finally on the right track. I’m finally winning again.” 

“You know there’s more to it than that,” Snowflake countered. “Snowstorm is worried too; that’s why they asked me to come.” 

“Worried about what?” Snowy laughed. “I told you, I’m fine. Better than ever, now you’re here.”

“You’re starting public arguments that nearly get physical with other athletes. You’re desperate to win things, and you break down if you don’t. You bully your own teammates, sometimes you disappear randomly without telling anyone where you’re going, and when anyone tries to call you out on anything, you just deny it.” As they spoke they began to sniffle, teardrops building. “Snowstorm said… they said you miss me; that if you won’t listen to anyone else you might listen to me.”

Snowy’s expression went blank. For once, they had no answer, and the gulf between what they had wanted to say and what could bring Snowflake around to them yawned into the distance. In their absence of retort they were paralyzed, facing an old friend who could not face them back. 

“You lost everything to me, Snowflake. Everything you worked to build. I’m trying to protect it for you.” Everything was unraveling before Snowy, and they were rambling more than talking. “I’m trying to make you happy.” 

“So when you and everyone around you are miserable, how exactly will it make me happy?” 

It’s not like that, Snowy wanted to say, but the words never came. 

“I don’t know.” 

Hazers

Fittingly for the host city of the Midnight Wisps, Helarve’s night life was teeming with activity, so Misty appreciated Cloudy’s company as they glided through the streets together.

There was no goal, just some wandering around in the crisp autumn air, relying on their honed navigational sense to lead them back to the hotel whenever they were ready. There was no goal, and yet, Misty felt themselves being drawn to the clock tower in the distance, so they’d gone and snuck onto the racetrack grounds. It was a fairly simple matter, and Misty wasn’t sure whether that said more about the Hazers’ stealth or the Wisps’ security.

The track loomed high above them, casting long shadows across their forms as they threaded underneath the support beams.

“The moon’s so bright,” Cloudy said, entranced by its soft glow. “It’s a night race, right? It’s already so pretty from down here, it’ll look even better from the track.” They skipped ahead of them into a patch of moonlight, avoiding the cracks in the pavement in a spontaneous child’s game, but Misty slowed to a halt.

Misty hummed in agreement, still clearly distracted. “It’s pretty.” The fresh air had done wonders, but the daunting task before them – now visibly laid out above them – still weighed on their mind. Helarve’s chill was from latitude and sea breeze, not altitude and mountain breeze, but their breath fogged up the air all the same.

Cloudy’s face fell. “You know I could have vouched for you, right?” they fretted. “I could’ve taken Midnight Bay, you could’ve taken the bronze in Accellaise, or at least – ‘cause that track’s easy, we’ve run a different racer each time and we keep getting top five.” They declared that last part with a Smoggy-like certainty, and Misty smiled a little.

“Don’t say that, you’ll get a lecture on humility from Coach,” Misty warned playfully. The Speeders wouldn’t be happy to hear it either. “It’s just that… this is where it all started, right?”

They’d only seen the aftermath the first time: a barely perceptible infection of doubt in every movement from then on, which grew more and more until Misty was left thinking they could pick up the pieces, with them having made a final gambit to pass the torch. And now they were here just as they once were, about to undergo the same trial.

Cloudy fell silent, lost in memories themselves.

“The cycle I mentioned last year… I thought it was over,” Misty said. “I thought it was over after what I did last Showdown, or in Sotsevsa, but it’s not.” Helarve’s harsh cyan lights left an afterimage, inverting into the red glow of Fantum whenever they shut their eyes, so they stayed in the shade. “And now I’m here, where it all started, and I have to complete it.”

Cynicism was a familiar, bitter poison, but it was the best shield they’d ever known. It wasn’t something they expressed outright anymore for the sake of team morale, but Midnight Bay was their personal stage to collapse on.

“Misty…”

“I’m scared,” they admitted softly, embarrassment and fear welling up in their voice.

It hadn’t been too long ago when they were standing numb under the lights of Casino Square, reeling from what they’d just done. They must have felt something similar here.

“But I want it to end,” they whispered. The night is silent; they may as well have shouted it. They shook their head, a different memory resurfacing: Murky, desperately trying to suppress all signs of terror as they took their place on the Honeydome starting grid. They wondered what they looked like right now. “You’re with me, right?”

They didn’t dare hope again. They had to. They couldn’t. They would.

“I’m with you all the way,” Cloudy promised, smiling at them with determined, earnest loyalty, and Misty let themselves be pulled into the moonlight.

At the base of Mt. Huaze there laid a pile of stacked stone.

“Base” was relative; specifically, the cairn was just several lengths away from the secret trailhead up to the supposed summit, acting as both a landmark for the start of the climbing route and as the cenotaph it was intended to be.

No one remembered when it was built: the dawn of time, perhaps. They were old stones, carved with tiny, wind-weathered names, each one rendered illegible by the passage of time. Nowadays, the fallen were engraved on small silver discs and draped across the stones to immortalize them. Though freed from the threat of wind erosion, they could not escape the fog, which corroded them away anyway – names upon names, most of them erased, none yet forgotten, and all of them ultimately a footnote in the long, long history of one of Marblearth’s last unconquered peaks. 

How many more attempts will it take, how many more torches will be passed, will it all be worth it in the end…

“You’re not coming back for Buzzpig? But it would fix everything – I can’t replace you. I can’t be like you, I’ve tried.”

There was something painful in their expression when Misty said that. For a moment they seemed to struggle to answer them, but then they simply replied, “Well…you’re not me. You’ll succeed where I couldn’t.”

“You really believe that? Even after everything?”

They nodded unwaveringly. “I trust you.”

Interlude – Kobalts & Raspberry Racers

A Halloween market had been set up in the city center, framed by a distant view of the famous clock tower. After a vigorous session of afternoon shopping both teams had now retired to a second-floor restaurant overlooking the glowing lights below. From a heated balcony, they watched some of the first light snows of the colder season fall on the shoppers below. 

“You know, I never saw real snow until I was an adult,” Cerulean mused, gazing out onto the crowds below. “We have some fake snow centers, but it’s not the same.” 

Royal pushed a forkful of herby cream pasta around in their dish. “It’s gorgeous, but it’s a world away from Zuro in September… I can’t believe the season’s almost over. Or, well, it’s over for me.” 

“And me,” Ruzzy chirped. “So now I can eat whatever I want!” they exclaimed, laughing before they took another bite of their reindeer burger. 

“You were doing that the entire season anyway,” Razzy corrected in vain – though they did get a laugh out of Cerulean and Royal alike.

Cerulean pushed their winter salad around with their fork. “I can’t say I’m not jealous. I made Sapphire draw up a list of the food I should be eating before the race, and it definitely doesn’t have ‘burgers’ on it. Even this tastes too good to be allowed.” 

“You have nothing to worry about,” proclaimed Razzy. “You’re basically unbeatable at Midnight Bay.”

“Except the two times I got beaten,” Cerulean corrected them. 

“Yeah, but you’ve gone super-Cerulean mode now, so you’ll be fine,” followed Ruzzy. Cerulean had to hold back a laugh.

“You’ll do great as well, Razzy,” they added instead. “It’s been a good season for you two. I was… Well, I don’t want to say surprised, but–” 

“It’s fine. I know it’s unexpected. But I feel better than ever. And I want to end it on a high,” they declared. 

Cerulean nodded. “We’ll have to give everyone a taste of Season 2, then. Maybe this time without a Speeders win.” 

“How about a toast, then?” followed Royal. Everyone looked around the table in agreement before holding their glasses aloft, peach-toned champagne swirling around as they clinked. 

“To Midnight Bay!” Cerulean declared, and everyone followed, cheering. 

Green Ducks

A gray sky opened up to blue in patches, the sun obscured through gauzy clouds, as if a great sheet had been hung over the world. Most of the day it had been raining at a steady and unrelenting pace, and even now that it was dry, they’d had to lay down towels to sit on the picnic bench outside of the cabin. Water still dripped from the wooden eaves, though Bombay only made the mistake of leaving their mug of tea perfectly placed to catch the runoff once. Meanwhile, Mallard and Billy had already left the decking for the holiday park’s beach, pristine and otherwise empty in its sloping towards the sea. 

“It’s typical, isn’t it?” Bombay quipped, one eye on the twins and one eye on their tea. “First day of your holiday and it’s raining until it’s too late to go anywhere.” 

“Look on the bright side – we didn’t have to drive anywhere with them,” laughed Gadwall. They followed Bombay’s gaze to Billy and Mallard, who by now were mere dark specks on the horizon. “Besides, they’re having fun. And we have a few more hours of sunlight for the barbecue.”

Unconvinced by Gadwall’s optimism, Bombay grumbled under their breath. “And if it turns again?” 


“We’ll order a pizza, then. I get a break from work, you get a break from cooking. That’s only fair, isn’t it?” 

Bombay did not reply. Their gaze was now fully cast out to the water; to where Mallard and Billy were leaving tracks in the pearl-toned sand. 

Gadwall let out a pronounced cough. “Is something wrong? Be honest with me.” 

Bombay turned reluctantly and sighed. “It’s not worth worrying you about,” they replied, failing to meet their gaze. Gadwall had been able to sense the oddness they were carrying since the day before the drive, and they’d taken it for pre-trip anxiety. Clearly it had not been alleviated. 

Gadwall nudged them encouragingly. “A problem shared is a problem halved.” 

Bombay nodded. “Fair enough,” they said, and produced an opened letter from their bag. Gadwall had never seen it before, though it was addressed to the both of them. On one corner of the envelope was written PRIVATE in ominous block text. “It came the day before we left. I couldn’t get the time to talk to you about it alone.” 


Gadwall’s brow caved with concern. “What is it?” 

“It’s from the school. It’s, um – about the bullying stuff.” Bombay spoke hesitantly, and Gadwall knew already that the news was nothing good. “They, ah – there’s nothing they can do about the perpetrators, and they won’t cover the cost of what got broken. And they recommended a school transfer for Billy if we ‘still believe there’s a problem.’”

“Unbelievable,” Gadwall exclaimed, briefly losing control of their volume. “They’ve got some nerve to suggest that we’re at fault here.”

Bombay let out a soft sigh. “There’s a reason I didn’t bring it up.” 

“We can’t have them separated. It’s ridiculous.” In the distance, Mallard and Billy had reached the water, leaping and playing in the surf together. “We’re not going along with it.” 

“We could transfer them both,” Bombay uneasily proposed. “I suppose we don’t have to worry about it until September, but…” they added, trailing off at the end. 

Gadwall lowered their gaze. “Right. We paid good money for this trip, and there’s nothing we can do about it over the summer.” 

–

Evening turned slowly into night, and the gentle pitter-patter of rain outside returned alongside the darkness. Fireplace crackle and the rustic warmth of burning wood permeated the confines of the small cabin, pizza long since devoured and Bombay already in bed. Mallard was cuddled up to Gadwall, whose new book was illuminated by the fire’s distant glow. 

“Hey. Heeeeeey. Between me and Billy, who’s older?” Mallard chirped through the silence. 

“You’re twins,” Gadwall replied, sterner. 

“Twins can be older and younger,” objected Mallard. “That’s what someone at school said, anyway.” 

Gadwall considered the proposition for a second. Across the room was Billy, back to constructing an elaborate tower of blocks by the fireplace. “Well, that’s true,” they eventually conceded, pulling Mallard ever-so-slightly closer. 

“Okay,” replied Mallard, and they glanced towards Billy with an expression of curiosity, as if they were trying to guess for themself. “So, which one of us is the oldest?” 

“I can’t tell you that,” Gadwall declared. 

Mallard groaned a warbling aaaaaa noise in protest. “Why not?” 

“Why do you want to know?”

The question caught Mallard off guard. “…I dunno.”

“If I tell you who’s the oldest,” Gadwall began, “you might think I’m telling you who’s better, or who matters more, or who should be in charge. But I don’t want you to make comparisons. Even if you don’t always get along, you joined this world at the same time. Being together is the most precious gift you’ll ever have.”

“Um… okay, whatever,” Mallard mumbled, pouting and still clearly unsatisfied. Gadwall patted them gently and repressed a sigh. They’re probably too young to understand, they thought, looking back over to Billy. 

“Just take care of Billy, alright? I know they’ll do the same for you.” 

Mallard glanced over to their sibling, and then they spoke quietly. “Alright.” 

–

From a slim porthole window on the side of their descending plane, Mallard observed the surrounding Helarve-Vanillsinki region stretched out before them. It wasn’t much different from the Brace Isles, flat green fields broken up by hills and residential areas, though in the darkness it was itself only cold and vast darkness, illuminated by the warm homes others kept. 

The plane landed with practiced precision, though rain rendered the runway black and slick. Mallard descended the short staircase down once everything had come to a complete stop, followed by Bombay, the rest of the Green Ducks, and finally Billy, who still donned the vintage goggle-scarf combo they wore each time they flew. 

“Word from air traffic control: we’ve got a crowd awaiting us,” Billy said, a smile beaming from their face. “Ready to go and face the music?” 

“I still can’t believe you can actually fly a plane,” Mallard replied. “You bet, though. I’m glad we went to go and visit the gravesite… But we didn’t come this far just to go back home.”

Billy nodded. “We’ll be fine. It’s you, and I know you can do it.” 

Crazy Cat’s Eyes

Every time they looked at the standings, the numbers wouldn’t change.

136. 117. 112. 111.

19. That’s all that stood between a second title and returning home empty handed.

Yellow Eye sighed as they took another look at the top of the standings; why they were still so fixated on this was beyond them. Maybe a part of them possessed a bleak hope that something, anything would change if they stared long enough – but the numbers unceasingly stared back no matter how long they looked.

This wasn’t their first time on the track. They’ve been here before. Midnight Bay was familiar territory. There was no reason to be a scaredy-cat about something so familiar to them; but here they were, sitting in silence with their fear. IBit was the only thing they knew how to feel in the face of one more race either making or breaking a championship.

“Yellow?”

Yellow Eye finally quit the self-imposed staring contest they were having with the standings and turned to face the voice. Expectedly, it was Red Eye. Seeing their beloved teammate brought comfort to them, but at the same time made the unease from within them that more potent.

“Oh! You look… happy,” Yellow Eye pointed out. Despite being Red Eye’s teammate for what felt like ages now, seeing them adorning a joyful look was a rare sight. “I, uhh… I hope that continues into next week… or something like that.”

Red Eye was silent for a moment before quietly laughing. “You know I don’t need to hope and pray for that sort of thing.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“We’re leading the championship as we should. It would take the team right below us second at a minimum to beat us. Really, all you have to do is show up and we’re bringing our rightful title back home,” they explained, the confidence in their words unwavering.

Yellow Eye kept staring at their teammate. “But I still have to race well–”

“I said, all you need to do is show up to the track.” They gave a light nudge to their teammate. “After all, you showing up and success is as synonymous as it gets around here.”

Any rebuttal they might have had fizzled out of existence. They opened their mouth hoping that something, anything would come out about how Red Eye was wrong and being much too assumptive about a race that hadn’t happened yet; but the pair was only met with uncomfortable silence as nothing came out.

How could they be the very definition of success if their first season back after being forced out was nothing of the sort? They had no medals to their name and no awe-inspiring performances that fans would remember for years to come – their “shining moment” this season was blowing a commanding lead to some rookie they’d never met until the season’s youth back after the Momotorway red flag.

In what world could they finally bring a victory back to Felynia when failing to do so before was the reason they’d been shunned away from the circuit a year ago in the first place?

“But… what if I fail?” Yellow Eye finally managed. “W-what if I blow it like I always do and one of the racers threatening to take this away from you does enough and everyone hates me and you hate me too and want me gone again–”

Red Eye gave them a strong bump to the side; it was one of those bumps they only reserved for when team discussions got considerably heated. “Yellow, why would I want you gone again? You and I know well that I don’t want that for you –”

“Then what do you want from me!?” they shouted, their voice breaking. “Someone like you who only knows victory should have rejoiced when the coach rightfully threw me out a year ago! I bet you were disgusted to see that I was coming back to drag the team down again! But here you are, trusting someone like me to do something I’ve never been able to do and have proven so many times I can’t do…!”

“Yellow, please–”

Yellow Eye weakly fell forward into Red Eye’s grasp. “I… I just wanna be someone you can finally say you’re proud to race alongside…”

Where they’d usually expect an immediate counter from Red Eye never came; quiet once again invited itself between the two whenever it wasn’t drowned out by quiet and hollow sobs that did nothing to remedy how oppressive the silence had grown between the two racers.

“…don’t say you’re dragging us down. You never have,” Red Eye whispered after an eternity. “No matter what happens out there, I’m going to be so proud of you. If anything, I think this is going to be the best season I’ve ever shared with you.”

“B-but… we didn’t clinch anything again. You’re still in danger of losing your third individual title…” Yellow Eye weakly looked up at their teammate, blinking away tears. “So why say that? Are you just that confident I can do something I’ve never been able to do for you before? Are you just that happy about leading the standings?”

The gaze they were met with was one they seldom saw from their teammate – it was perhaps the softest and most sincere smile they’d ever seen from anyone.

“It’s because you’re here again, where you’ve always belonged.” Red Eye’s smile went from one of gentleness to one of confidence. “Now let’s give the world a show they’ll never forget.”

Art Credit: Piney

Credits

M1S5 Memo #4: Diving Deep, Digging Deeper

Dunduei (12/10/24)

In Dunduei, a scenic tourist trail ringed the less urban western side of the port, passing lazily through cultivated public gardens and occasionally looking out onto the bay and the steadily-busying beaches directly across. Yellup had rejected the idea of going to the beach out of hand. It was much too public, they’d already been to the beach twice in the season, and just the idea of Yellup being in Dunduei turned everyone into a comedian. But the mid-spring weather was irresistible to Yellow, and the two had compromised on a relaxing stroll through one of the less-trafficked parts of the city. Yellup suspected they owed them for taking the track, anyway. 

“Stop for a minute,” Yellow asked, for what was perhaps the fifth time in the last twenty minutes. Yellup continued on for a pointed few seconds before coming to a reluctant halt. 

Glancing back, they saw Yellow with their rented binoculars arched towards the upper boughs of a tree. “Another bird?” they asked, suspecting they already knew the answer. 

Yellow didn’t deign to reply until their binoculars were fully adjusted. “I think it has a nest,” they murmured. “I didn’t even know a bird could be that green.” 

Yellup huffed, rolling their eyes. “What’s so special about a bird that looks like a Limer?” 

Yellow didn’t deign them an answer, lost to a zen state. Dunduei had some interesting wildlife, but a bird could only ever be worth so much attention, Yellup thought. “Caw caw! Caw caw!” they called, a poor imitation of a bird. But it came out unexpectedly loud. 

Startled by the sudden noise, a shimmering ball of feathers burst through the greenery from whence it had previously gone undetected. Yellup filled with alarm when Yellow turned to them, visibly frustrated. 

“Seriously?” Yellow scolded. “What’s gotten into you?” 

It had seemed funny in the moment. Now Yellup began to feel embarrassment set in. “It was just a bird,” they mumbled, though even then it felt a lazy excuse. 

“But you’ve had this crappy attitude the entire time we’ve been here. What was all the big talk about coming to Dunduei to confront your demons for, huh?” 

Yellup cringed at the sound of their own words repeated back to them. Their fault, they conceded to themself; Yellow’s memory was photographic, and they never forgot. “Oh, it’s fine for the bird to leave when things get hairy, but not me?” 

“Forget about the bird. Look, I’m not making you hang out with me, so go back to the hotel if you want to stay inside.”

“Well, you wanted it, and I’m sick of disappointing you!” Yellup barked, only to quickly wish they could take it back. “And by that I mean-” 

“Look, let’s leave it. This place is too public, anyway,” Yellow conceded. “Just be honest with me if you’re in a bad mood, m’kay?” 

“Yeah, okay. This city just messes with my head. Anything I can do to make it up to you?” 

“How about you take my photo with that bird?” replied Yellow, gesturing to a not-too-distant statue of a giant flightless bird in the middle of the park. 

Yellup laughed, the first time they’d laughed since arriving. “Can do,” they replied, pulling out their phone and waiting for Yellow to get in position in front. 

Just as the camera had finished its blurring and adjusting, finally putting Yellow in focus in front of the statue, but before Yellup could snap a photo, the phone jolted with a notification. It was Yellup’s turn to be startled, tapping onto the message instead of the camera button. 

Yeller: you seen this?
Yeller: absolutely insane 😭
Yeller attached a Rollstagram post.

(Design Credit: Yume)

“Wait, it’s not loading…” 

“What’s the hold-up, Yellup?” 

–

The video opened to the interior of a bar filled with blue island-themed furnishings. Blinds over the windows obscured the room to the outside while still allowing slits of light in. Over half the paddock was crammed inside, sectioned into their own small groups, some concentrated in cushy booths while others stood or surrounded the bar. One such figure at the bar was Red Eye, who the camera was intently focused on. Surrounding Red Eye was Yellow Eye, Pinky Panther, Mallard and Ruzzy, but most notably Snowy, who was not seated – rather, they and Red Eye were in the midst of a confrontation. 

“-because you’re not so perfect now, are you?” barked Snowy, the first part of their confrontation clipped by the filmer’s delay. It’s really heating up, mumbled a quiet voice from behind the camera, audible now the rest of the room was quieting. “Yeah, you think you’re the most important marble out there, but you’re not! And I know you think I’m going to lie down and give up so you can feel special, but think again!” 

“Snowy,” came a frustrated voice from the background, clearly Snowstorm’s, but Snowy was deaf to it. They leered further into Red Eye’s space and the two locked eyes. Despite Snowy’s acidic words, Red Eye remained unperturbed as they pushed their drink to the side. Snowy kept one eye on it. 

Adjacent to the anonymous POV, a voice with a distinct Hunluese cadence muttered half-audible commands to the filmer: zoom in, don’t let them miss the reaction. 

A few moments of silent consideration followed, Snowy’s imposing posture maintained. “I don’t think this is an argument we need to have,” concluded Red Eye eventually, turning towards the silent bartender and away from Snowy’s heated gaze. 

That’s it? grumbled the filmer’s accomplice. And for a moment, it looked as if it might have been. But just as the tension dissipated, Snowy seized Red Eye’s drink from the counter and poured it over them, provoking an enraged hiss as they were left completely drenched.

The silenced room broke out into a furore of stunned chatter, but one voice was still heard over them all – “I told you you wouldn’t forget about the Snowballs in a hurry, huh?” 

Fantum (19/10/24)

“Hey, everything alright?” asked Razzy, after Billy had stopped following after them while they were departing the track. They were in the tunnel leading to the starting gate, where only racers and coaches were normally allowed post-race, late to leave after a post-race catch-up. 

“Hold on a second.” Someone had dropped a handkerchief on the floor. Billy gingerly picked it up. “Is this yours?” they asked. 

“A handkerchief? Nope,” answered Razzy. “Maybe ask the racer group chat.” 

“It’s been shut since the incident, remember?” replied Billy. 

“Oh yeah… Well, maybe it’s Snowstorm’s? They were in a real hurry to leave…” 

–

Snowstorm met Billy’s approach with a skeptical glare. “I’m not going to talk about last week, sorry.” 

“That’s understandable. Um, I was just wondering if this is yours…” Billy said, gingerly presenting the handkerchief for Snowstorm’s inspection. Snowstorm barely looked before shaking their head. 

“Sorry. Not mine.” They squinted. “Does anyone actually even use a handkerchief anymore?” 

Dejected, Billy returned it to their bag. 

“I guess maybe the Hazers do. I don’t think they have game consoles up there, so it’s probably the next most exciting thing.” 

Billy could certainly fault their logic, but they had no better lead. “Alright.” 

–

If Snowstorm had been in a mournful mood, Misty was almost frozen in grief. When Billy met them Cloudy was keeping a dutiful protective watch over their personal space, and as they received the nod of permission Billy felt as if they were being admitted to an exclusive club. 

“Yours?” Billy asked, producing the handkerchief for Misty to inspect. They inspected it with a glassy, distant expression, empty of any recognition. Billy wasn’t surprised to see them frown and sigh. 

“Sorry. I haven’t… It looks really nice, though. Maybe it’s Yellow Eye’s?” they suggested instead. 

“Thanks anyway, Misty,” Billy replied. 

–

Yellow Eye was much trickier to track down than Snowstorm and Misty. White Eye kept their racers on a short leash post-race, guarded from a press eager to trip them up, and never more so than when the day had not gone to plan. Billy also got the distinct sense that they in particular were a persona non-grata at the penthouse office. Fortunately, Yellow Eye’s silver-tongued hospitality seemed to override White Eye’s hostility. 

“Um, a handkerchief? Cute, but a little outdated,” they mused. Billy was about to make a hasty exit before Yellow Eye unexpectedly continued. “Try Stinger – see, I heard this rumor…” 

–

“Absolutely no way, not in a million years, not on your life, not on Bombay’s life, not on Bumble’s life -”

“Hey!” Bumble interjected. 

“- is that fancy little thing mine!” barked Stinger, scowling. Just the suggestion – which they seemed to take as an accusation – sent them blushing beet-red, an impressive feat for a black-and-yellow marble. 

“Okay, so it’s not yours -” Billy began, but they were quickly interrupted. 

“I mean, seriously, why would you even think that? That’s more… Lemonlime’s vibe, right? I’m super punk, right? Hey! Look me in the eyes!” 

“Uh… no.” 

Billy quickly left, but not without a lead. 

–

Billy found Lemonlime at a canal-side cafe, drinking tea. 

“This is what passes for a waterside view in Fantum,” they sighed. “Are you joining me?” 

Billy bowed apologetically. “Sorry, I can’t. Did you lose this?” they asked, displaying the handkerchief. 

Lemonlime inspected it so intensely and fondly that hope began to rise in Billy’s stomach. Then they sighed again. 

“It’s pure silk… I couldn’t afford having something like this around with me. I bet Starry would love it, though.” 

Billy was about to leave, until Lemonlime piped back up. 

“Uh… If you don’t find the owner, can I have it?” 

–

It was just Billy’s luck to interrupt their second coach-racer meeting of the day, this time between Starry and Black Hole. Though the mood was clearly tense, they were greeted with a smile. 

“A handkerchief? Let me have a closer look…” 

Even with dark circles and frustration lines carved into their face, Starry was perfectly intimidating, and Billy had to fight the urge to clam up with every ounce of confidence in their body. 

“S-sure…” 

Starry inspected it carefully for what felt like hours. Eventually, they came to their conclusion – “It says ‘made in Zuro’. Maybe try the Kobalts?”

“O-okay.” 

–

Billy found Royal alone in the hotel’s buffet, lost in thought and gnawing on a lamb chop. 

“Oh, hey Billy. Did you reconsider the club idea?” 

“Sorry… I get you want to raise awareness, but it’s too visible for me, and I don’t know who’d join aside from us.”

Royal leaned back and sighed. “That’s fair.”

“Anyway, I came to talk about something else. Is this yours?” they asked, and showed Royal the handkerchief. 

“Oh, that? It’s not mine. But they’re sold in Zuro gift shops,” Royal said. “I saw Anarchy buy one. See, they’re made like this, with a…” 

–

By the time Billy escaped Royal’s long-winded explanation of the production process the sun had set, and the blinking lights of the distant mining operations were joined by a chorus of warm city streetlights. Billy found Anarchy at a nearby, doing a Q&A for a hometown audience. 

“Now, a question from… Billy? Why are you-” 

This was their chance. They held the handkerchief up. “Did you lose this?” 

Anarchy checked their bag. “No, mine’s still here… Uh, I did buy one as a gift for… Someone.” 

“Who?” 

Anarchy’s expression turned icy. “Um… Well, I’m not telling you! So there!” 

–

Billy did not consider themself a great guesser, but the identity of Anarchy’s embarrassing mysterious giftee felt like a fairly sure bet. After no luck with Aryp and Rima, they moved on to the Pinkies, speaking to Pinky Toe while Pinky Panther was on a gaming call.

“You wouldn’t have found my-” 

“Handkerchief?” Billy replied. 

Pinky Toe’s face lit up. “Oh! Do you have it?” 

Oh, finally, Billy thought as they handed the handkerchief to a grateful Pinky Toe. 

“I can’t believe I lost it. Thank you so much!” they exclaimed, rewarding Billy with a warm hug. 

“Ah! …N-no problem.” 

Credits

Back on Track

It was quiet throughout the city of Rubow. Now that the Marbula One season was wrapping, the city’s marbles had gone back to tending to their duties. As the team was already relegated to the bottom 5 of the table the week prior, excitement slowly died down as life returned to normalcy.

The Raspberry Racers had dealt with hardships before, but not quite like the recent Marbula One season. Despite Rubow’s hype upon their return from a one year hiatus, their home performance only amassed a single point, with the rest of the season following a similar trend, ultimately ending with 5 scoreless races. This was the team’s first dead last performance.

Razzy and Rizzy hoped to put M1 behind them for good as they rejoined their fellow teammates in Marble League preparation. As captain, Razzy was used to constant criticism. After all, it was their job to look out for their teammates and help them all move on. Even so, 37th in the standings had stung more than anything in their career so far, including their blue flag incident at the Raceforest in M1 season 2.

As for Rizzy, this was an all time low. Finishing low in circuit events was nothing new to them, as they had dealt with a 15th place in Marblocross in 2021. But back then, they had an amazing Marble League season, ending in silver, to comfort them. Now, it was a tie for overall last. Though trying all they could to put the season behind them, every minor mistake in training only led to increasing frustration. The pair needed to reboot, and Razzy knew exactly what they needed.

–

The announcement of Starbula One came as a shock to the whole Marble League circuit. Those at the top of the M1 standings acknowledged it, but ultimately carried on with their celebrations. Meanwhile, those who weren’t invited to M1 were downright ecstatic at the prospect of competing again. Yet there was one group who ultimately could not feel much about this announcement: the bottom half of the M1 table.

Some teams, such as the Pinkies and Shining Swarm, saw less than optimal results and ultimately blended into the background. Others like the Thunderbolts and Bumblebees sat near the bottom of the standings, but at least had a medal to call their own, as well as all the publicity that came with the achievement. However, for the Wolfpack and Chocolatiers, the season brought nothing but disappointment. And now it came with the burden of missing an all new experience in the marble sports world.

Choc and Mocha weren’t taking the season’s results very well. Choc decided to pull out some fan mail in order to lift their spirits and remind themselves of who they’re competing for.

“I mean, just look at all of this!” Choc said as they took a bite of a chocolate treat gifted by a fan, “This Marbula One stuff may not be our thing, but we’ve got a whole Marble League ahead of us. We’re coming off of two straight qualifications, so let’s put our efforts into making it 3!”

“But all of these people, they were counting on us,” replied a disheartened Mocha. “They brought me back over Bonbon who won a race! And I repaid their support with-“

Mocha’s eyes were drawn to a pink envelope signed by Razzy. They immediately opened and read the letter while Choc stayed inquisitively quiet.

“Oh my goodness!” exclaimed Mocha.

“What’s going on?” replied Choc 

“The Raspberry Racers have invited us to their training facility!”

“What? That’s impossible. Why would they choose to train with us over their usual friends?”

“Because it’s not a training session. It turns out they’ve invited us for a watch party of the Starbula One finale! And it’s not just us, it seems they’ve also invited…”

–

The Wolfpack marbles ducked and weaved through the fields of Tumbletown. Fenrir and Sirius were tired of being stuck on the asphalt circuits and longed for a good run like this. Their excitement was not misplaced, as for once they had been invited to participate in an offseason event with another team, even if it was just a watch party.

“Ah, it’s such a beautiful day! We may be down but we’re not out!” exclaimed an excited Fenrir.

“I mean, technically we are out of both competitions. But at least this gives us a chance to get up again, right?” panted a tired yet undeterred Sirius.

“Haha! Right you are!” retorted Fenrir. “If the moon has been guiding us right, we should be getting there… now!”

Despite it being broad daylight, the duo miraculously emerged from the tree line right by the front entrance of the training facility, much to the shock of the Chocolatier pair waiting there already.

“Oh, it’s just you two,” exclaimed Choc, trying to lower their heart rate.

The pairs needed no introduction, as they had raced alongside one another for the entire M1 season. After a few minutes, Razzy appeared.

“Welcome to the best facility this side of Tumbletown! So glad you all could make it!”

Razzy guided the competitors through their state of the art facility. They passed a few boardrooms and a room devoted to their team history before eventually arriving at their various preparation areas, some of which were being actively used by Rezzy, Rozzy, and Ruzzy. Razzy asked that their guests avert their eyes, which Choc and Mocha respectfully did. Fenrir, however, showed no concern.

“Oh don’t mind Sirius and I. Us Pack members don’t need all of this fancy technology stuff in order to improve. As long as we have the open world and the moon as our guide, we have all we need to win.”

“You two sure do love running through the forest, huh?” inquired Mocha, remembering the pair bursting through the trees a few minutes prior.

“Well of course. How do you think the league found us?” retorted Fenrir.

But Mocha was only half-listening. They and Sirius had stopped to stare in sheer amazement at the Raspberry Racers’ Marble League championship trophy. They were mesmerized by a shine that revealed perfect reflections of themselvesbefore being pulled away by their teammates. 

Eventually, they arrived at their destination.“Welcome to our lounge!” declared Razzy.

The room contained a few couches, tables, lockers, and a television with pre-race coverage already turned on. Rizzy had just finished setting up the room, and quickly scrambled to grab the treat basket they had prepared.

“With how seriously you guys take this competition, I’m surprised you decided to add such a place,” pondered Choc.

“With all of the tickets we sold at both Razzway Grands Prix, could you blame us?” panted Rizzy as they had finally finished prep. They offered their basket. “Would any of you care for a freshly picked raspberry? We have Tumbletown’s best!”

Choc and Mocha took a few before presenting their own chocolate treats. Meanwhile, Fenrir and Sirius stood there awkwardly.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know we were expected to bring snacks,” sighed a worried Sirius.

“That’s alright,” assured Razzy. “You’ll get used to team traditions as you spend more time on the circuit. And then you get to experience the fun of creating your own.”

The marbles had a great time snacking and chatting about their careers. After a few minutes of discussing the recent M1 season, Choc had finally asked Razzy why they and Wolfpack specifically were invited.

“Well, you see, we’re no strangers to having downturns in performance. The end of 2020 was especially rough on us, as it felt like we were hammered with 15th place finishes. But then, out of nowhere, the Green Ducks had sent our team an invitation to hang out at a pond in the Brace Isles. As it turns out, our battle the year prior was the most fun they had in their careers, and they wanted to make sure we weren’t discouraged. And that day still remains one of my favorite in my career.”

“But of course, we’re still competitors,” interjected Rizzy. “We still have a rivalry, just not the kind we have with the Limers. If you know what I mean.” 

The group nodded in agreement.

“The point is that we know how it feels to be discouraged in competition. We wouldn’t wish it on anyone. And now that this Starbula One competition is going on, we wanted to make sure no team was left behind.”

The feeling of gratitude quickly spread throughout the room. Even Rizzy felt inspired by their captain at that moment. Discussion of the highs and lows of the recent M1 season went on for about an hour until the pre-race coverage wrapped up. From that point on, the marbles were glued to the TV.

The watch party was an amazing time full of cheering and gasping, with the occasional howling every time the camera panned to the night sky. This was until Aqua’s elimination, where the camera held on a small group of Oceanics fans holding up a “Noceanics” sign.

“Come on! Who keeps inviting these fair-weather fans to events?” shouted a ticked off Choc.

“I feel so bad for the athletes, they were doing amazing these last few events. But hey, it happens to the best of us” replied Razzy. “Hey Rizzy, remember that one time a reporter said we had ‘Limers withdrawal’ in 2020?”

The Racers marbles and Choc had a good laugh before quickly diving into a conversation about how they’d approach the Starbula One event. Mocha sat quietly next to Choc, as they had nothing to say. This was until they turned their head to see Fenrir and Sirius sitting alone and keeping to themselves. Sirius especially looked extremely discouraged. Mocha decided to move closer to the pair.

“So, how are you guys enjoying this event?” they asked. But Sirius barely heard any of it.

“Their own fans would turn on them? Even after one event? What does that mean for us? We had 7 scoreless performances! Our fanbase is already so small…” 

This was all Sirius could mutter as they tried to hold back tears. Fenrir could only bring Sirius in closer. Despite being the more talkative of the two, they had nothing to say.

“I know what you mean. My team has been there a lot of times. Heck, we’ve been called the ‘Choke-latiers’ more than we’d like to admit. We thought missing Marble League 2020 would’ve been our undoing, but Choc wouldn’t let us down.” Mocha took a look over at Choc, who was still cheerfully discussing the event with the Racers.

“Under their newfound captaincy, we bounced back and finished 3rd in the showdown! And they love giving us mail from our fans to cheer us up.” Mocha’s face lit up as they said that, the morning playing out again in their head. Choc knew what they were doing, now it was their turn.

“So yeah, sometimes you may feel like you’ve let your fans down, but remember they’re your fans for a reason. They’ll stick with you through thick and thin. And while you’ll have the occasional doubter, the vast majority are there for the long run. Plus, it doesn’t hurt to have supportive teammates too.”

Fenrir perked up at these comments. “You know what, you’re right! We’ve been a Pack as long as I can remember, and our fans are just as big a part of it! That’s what Coach Akela has been telling us for the longest time, haven’t they, Sirius?”

Sirius was able to muster a little smile. “Yeah, you’re right, Fenrir.”

“I always try to be,” replied Fenrir, trying to help further cheer up their teammate.

“And thank you, Mocha. We really needed this” added Sirius.

“Don’t worry, I did too,” answered Mocha.

“Wow! Snowy is FLYING down this track!” cheered Razzy.

“I guess the legends you tell are true!” Rizzy shouted back.

“Now, let’s get back to what we came here for!” exclaimed Mocha.

As the event progressed, the lounging marbles enjoyed a night of snacks, stories, and an event like no other. And despite their professional athlete status, they couldn’t help but to scream like little kids at the intense photo finish to end off the Starbula One tournament.

Once the event concluded and their basket of treats was reduced to crumbs, the Raspberry Racers showed their guests to the door.

“Are you all ok with making your way back home? I know it’s very late, and we could set something up for you,” asked a concerned Rizzy.

Fenrir showed no concern back, as they responded “Oh please, the night is the best time to travel! With the moon as our guide, we’ll be back by morning! C’mon, Sirius!”

Fenrir took off into the forest. Sirius stopped for a second to turn back and wave to their new friends before bolting after their teammate.

“…Do they even live on this continent?” asked a very confused Razzy.

“That team might just be the weirdest one I’ve seen in all my days” muttered Choc.

It was Mocha who broke the state of utter confusion. “You know what? After today, I think they’ll be just fine. Ready to go back to our hotel?”

“I sure am. Thanks again for the invite! It was a blast!” called Choc to the Racers.

“It was our pleasure!” acknowledged Razzy. “See you at the qualifiers!”

Just like that, the Chocolatiers’ athletes walked into the night. After a few minutes, Mocha broke the silence.

“I think we need to do a better job at being a pack, y’know? I want what we had back in 2020, where we don’t feel like we need to fight one another for success.”

Choc was quite surprised to hear this response, but ultimately understood. They had spent the whole night chatting with another team.

“I can see what you mean, and I guess that’s partly my fault too. I can’t say I know what to fix, but I’ll do what I can to be your captain when we get back home.”

That answer was good enough for now, but only time would tell what would happen when the Marble League season started back up. However, for the Raspberry Racers, they found what they lost during the last few months.

“Are you feeling better after tonight?” asked Razzy.

“I think so” answered Rizzy. “It’s nice to be reminded that there are some really friendly competitors out there. Which… I guess that was the point of Starbula One.”

“Right you are. Now, let’s be sure to get some good sleep tonight. I know that if Berry doesn’t make us train extra tomorrow, our teammates sure will.”

The two laughed it off. They knew Marble League 2023 would be a tough one, but tonight, all of that didn’t matter.

Credits

  • Writer: Junebug
  • Copyeditors/Editors: Millim, Stynth
  • Release: 18/10/2024

M1S5 Memo #3: Like Blossoms On The Water

Rosaka (28/9/24)

Rosaka was overstimulating at the best of times, but Ruzzy had an apparent knack for picking the loudest and brightest spots in the entire city. First was a comics convention, second was a busy cafe, now was an arcade in the middle of the city. Not practiced enough to play anything on their own, Cloudy had mostly stood by and watched Ruzzy win. Another time it might have annoyed them, but following a pole and a bronze, they were on cloud nine. 

As the two turned down another long corridor and past rows of UFO catchers, a machine caught Cloudy’s eye. Piled high in the glass cage were cartoonish plush sheep, each obscenely fluffy and rotund. Sheep fared too poorly on Mt. Huaze to be kept, but they’d been allowed to pet the free-roamers at the O’Marble property, and suffice to say they were now obsessed. Cloudy pressed up close and gazed inside, twinkly-eyed, until Ruzzy nudged them aside. 

“Don’t even worry,” Ruzzy quipped, smiling. “I’ll get you one, even if I have to spend my entire race winnings on it.” 

When Bumble was invited to a game of Marbles & Monoliths, they hadn’t known what to expect, but more and more the experience was beginning to feel atypical anyways. The four of them were crowded into Panther’s tiny Rosakan flat, and though the requisite game board was there, the usual characters had been substituted with Panther’s figure collection, so that the fight was between Hanasune Biiku, several giant robots, a cat plushie and a figure of Panther themself. 

“Alright, now that Bumble’s cast their guaranteed-hit spell… I’m going to strike with my longsword,” Nereid proclaimed, weighty with the self-assured confidence of an experienced player. 

“Go ahead,” Cerulean said with a nod, and Nereid cast their twelve-sided die. It clattered along the playmat, an entire table’s worth of attention turned to it as it gradually lost its momentum and settled on a single face. 

10. 

“With a vicious strike you plunge your sword into the chest of the beast -” pronounced Cerulean – “leaving it effortlessly slain. Congratulations, adventurers!” 

Constrained excitement arose amongst the group, sucked far enough into the fantasy of their characters and their grand unified quest that they’d forgotten their real-life divisions. 

“And you know what that means?” continued Cerulean. 

“Loot and experience points?” quoted Bumble, from the Explorer’s Guidebook. 

Cerulean nodded. “That and a fifteen-minute break. In real life,” they clarified. 

Small chatter emerged around the table as Bumble took from their seat and to the doors leading out to the balcony of Panther’s home. Though the game was going well- they thought, anyway- they’d been eyeing the balcony all night. What Panther’s flat lacked in space was made up for tenfold with its view over the city. Tens of stories high and almost unobstructed, Bumble hadn’t had a view like it since Hunluen. So transfixed were they by the skyline that they failed to notice Panther joining them, drink in hand. 

“Not so crummy anymore, is it?” laughed Panther, a jab at an earlier comment of theirs. Bumble flustered. 

“I was only joking,” they protested, “and besides, you were complete dead weight in that fight, so…” 

“Master Meowgical has a very specific set of skills that aren’t always very useful,” retorted Panther, mouthily mumbling through the last part. “Anyway… I lost an auto-qualification to you without any hard feelings, so insult my home all you want.” 

Bumble turned their gaze downwards; seemingly-infinite empty space between them, the railing, and the pavement. It was oddly somber, and Bumble knew almost immediately they wouldn’t be able to stomach such an atomized existence themself. “We do seem to run into each other a lot. Literally. Usually Red Eye is somewhere, though…” 

Panther tutted and leaned back. “What do you think we were fighting a giant on-fire lion for? Symbolism, Bumble, symbolism.” 

“Unsubtle symbolism,” Bumble replied, pretending to have noticed. They glanced back inside through the doors and saw Cerulean and Nereid wrapped up in their own lively conversation. “You know, if I have to run into someone all the time, you’re not a bad choice.”

“Same to you. You’re like a low-stress version of Starry.” Both winced silently at the mention of Starry, whose struggles remained an eerie black box over the season. 

“And you’re like a Red Eye that I can beat sometimes,” agreed Bumble. 

“I’ll take it,” Panther said, chuckling under their breath. “Hey, if you’re going to refill your drink, could you get me one?” 

Bumble circled the last of their peach soda around in the glass. “Sure,” they replied, heading back inside to the warmth. Nereid and Cerulean were enraptured with each other still, oblivious to Bumble fetching two cans from Panther’s diminutive fridge. 

“-it was a massive blue marblin, must’ve been about two metres long, and the boat nearly capsized with it on board, but I got things under control,” narrated Nereid, full of passion. 

“That’s amazing. I’ve, um… I’ve never actually been on a boat…” 

“No way! You’ll be racing Limelight Harbour too, right?” 

Cerulean nodded. 

“That’ll be the perfect time. We can go out, just you and me!” 

“I… If you don’t mind, yeah!” 

Bumble grinned and kept quiet as they slinked back out again. It was probably best to give them their space.

The sky in Rosaka had long been black and starless, but back in Van Gotterdam the sun was only beginning to set. Aryp fished their phone out from beneath their pillow and dialed the third saved number. It rang only briefly before being picked up. 

“Oh. Hey, Aryp.” 

Aryp took a deep breath. “Have you watched the race yet?” they asked, dispensing with any niceties. A brief, brutal silence followed. 

“Yeah. Me and Mary, we… I’m sorry.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Aryp countered. “I don’t even know why I’m calling. I guess I just want to hear your voice.” 

“Well, you know I’m always glad to hear from you too.” Somewhere in the background a familiar microwave dinged. They’d interrupted dinner from a few thousand miles away. Just great. 

Aryp sucked in another jagged breath. Now they were already being selfish they might as well go all the way. “Listen… The tax and business forms for the season, could you take them off my hands? You’re good at this. I can’t- something has to give.” As if they hadn’t left the training and management to them already. But-

“Leave it to me. Take care of yourself, yeah?” 

In the darkness, Aryp could almost imagine Imar being right there alongside them. “You too,” they replied, another weight off their back. “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight,” Imar mirrored, and the silence returned. 

Sotsevsa (5/10/24)

Misty had seen Sostevsa before only in pictures: white buildings with green accents sprawled alongside the sea, complemented by lush hills and steep limestone cliffs. There had been an air of tranquility in those pictures, a promise of dappled sunlight and a light ocean breeze.

Suffice to say that their expectations were misplaced. As they finished checking their phone, a thunderous cheer rose up from the harbor, accompanied by rapid flashes of light in every color of the rainbow. A marble had just backflipped into the water. Misty winced – they’d only just finished blinking out a set of afterimages from their vision.

The Sostevsa in the pictures was still there underneath the coat of festivities set up for the M1 circus, tucked away in meticulous pavement patterns and artistically trimmed shrubbery and architectural details Misty didn’t have the vocabulary to describe. And now, as they walked along the docks, it was in the pristine rows of sailboats and their wavering reflections in the water, the sort of view that would make Rima scramble for their watercolor set.

 “-sty!”                                                                                                                    

The call had been halfway drowned out by the unrelenting music from the parties, but there was no mistaking Ruzzy’s cheerful wave, nor the sight of Billy carrying their shopping for them.

“I like your hat,” Misty offered as they drew closer. Ruzzy pouted up at them from beneath a lime-green brim.

Billy was trying not to smile. “It’s their disguise.”

“It’s temporary,” Ruzzy groused. “Besides, I can use it to prank Razzy later.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” said Misty, who could only imagine Razzy’s reaction to having Limers merchandise sneak into their luggage. They shifted nervously. “I’m grateful for the invitation, really, but are you sure? I don’t know anything about sailing.”

“Billy’s good at sailing, and Clem’s coming too,” Ruzzy said. Behind them, Billy shuffled shyly at the praise. “C’mon, podium party! Also, there’s not that many options tonight; it’s just hotel, party, or boat.”

As if on cue, the other two marbles flinched as an airhorn blasted through the air, followed by another whirlwind dance of lights and a pulse of bass from the loudspeakers.

“Boat, please.” 

By the time Billy maneuvered the sailboat out of the harbor, the sky had faded from sunset to dusk, clinging onto only the faintest glimmers of sunlight. The hectic symphony of the party had also dampened with distance, reduced to a low thrum amidst the gentle lapping of waves against the hull. 

“So, what’ll it be?” asked Clementin, rummaging through the cooler. They had been the first to arrive on the boat, and was subsequently in charge of drinks. “We have water, Non-Descript Soda, limeade…” They waved a bottle at Ruzzy, who stared at it disdainfully. Misty reached for it in their place.

“Cerulean looked well,” they said absentmindedly, fiddling with the cap. The newly crowned victor had been spotted as a passenger aboard Nereid’s rental while they were en route out of the port, their sailing vessels passing each other at a distance suited only for enthusiastic waving.

Clementin plucked a soda out of the cooler. “Jealous?”

Misty felt themselves adopt the indiscernible expression they usually reserved for media obligations. “That’s not it. I’m happy for them.” They twisted open their limeade, the evening light glinting off the lid as it released a satisfying hiss. “Four-way fights are never predictable.”

Ruzzy nudged Billy, who jumped a little from where they were focused on steering. “Was it anything like Arctic Circuit?”

“I guess?” they stammered. They considered the question thoughtfully, their voice taking on a note of nostalgia. “But in Halifern we had an eight-way snowball fight later…”

Misty blinked. “Eight-way snowball fight?”

“Billy won that too,” Ruzzy lamented.

“I needed to avenge Mallard,” Billy protested, wavering between apologetic and proud. “Besides, Razzy got you too.”

“It was an accident! They were aiming for Orangin.”

“Is that what they told you?”

Misty normally would have been content with sitting back and quietly listening to the other three reminisce, but this time, an inevitable question coalesced in the back of their mind. “What about…” they trailed off, not wanting to interrupt, but the implication of what they were about to ask lingered in the breeze. 

“Your teammates eliminated each other immediately,” Clementin informed them with a laugh. “Nearly tagged me too in the process, but Orangin rescued me…and then they betrayed me, but that’s beside the point.”

They let out a sigh that was equal parts amused, exasperated, and wistful. “That sounds about right. No wonder they ‘forgot’ to mention it.” 

The other three marbles shared a glance, then Ruzzy grinned wickedly at them. “Want to know anything else?”

The part of Misty that had resigned themselves to responsibility refused. Gossip was impolite, and not only would it be unwise to probe into such potentially painful memories, it would also be terribly hypocritical for them to pry into the stories of others when they were so guarded about their own. But the night was young, and the boat had been cradled away so far from the harbor that the party lights were a mere suggestion, swallowed up by the shadowed outlines of limestone cliffs. The Sotsevsa breeze swirled peacefully around them, tasting of salt and tang. There was plenty of time. 

“Tell me everything.” 

(Art Credit: Piney)

Credits

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