Event 6 of Marble League 2023: Tug-of-War. (Design Credit: Flamigiri)
During their MFC days, the Pinkies had begun a victory tradition. For each medal earned, they would get an at-table barbecue and follow it with a round of karaoke. It had continued until the 2022 League, where blowing their voices out after every piece of hardware earned quickly became incompatible with the sheer and sudden uptick in their podium placements. Especially when every marble sports outlet on Marblearth wanted an interview with them.
Now, they could revive their tradition. They’d filled up on meat and noodles earlier that night, full of energy again after the exhausting Tug-of-War. But they quickly ran into a roadblock; the fight to determine who’d sing first.
“No fair! I mean, no offense, but you weren’t even in the event!” Pinky Rosa exclaimed. Pinkydink had an uncanny ability to predict the long straw, and this time was no exception.
“Yeah, but I made your lunchboxes and got the audience cheering for you,” replied Pinkydink, smiling mischievously.
“Actually, I think I was the one who got the long straw.” Pinky Panther interjected, holding up a long green straw that swirled in a hypnotic pattern at the top.
Pinky Winky glared at them. “That straw’s from your drink.”
Panther snorted. “Maybe, but you guys love my BGM! The song that gets you so hyped up you want to commit a crime!”
Rosa rolled their eyes teasingly. “That’s not a good thing.”
Though their squabbling was in jest, the team was still at an impasse. From the corner, Pinky Promise piped up.
“Let’s resolve this,” they said, tranquil and confident. “As this victory was as a team, your captain should have the privilege of leading you in.”
The team was astonished at their declaration. Pinky Toe had never sung first, owing to their shyness. They hadn’t even taken a straw. Now Promise was putting them on the spot.
“I, uh…I guess I could. But I have no idea what I’d sing, so…”
Sensing their captain’s anxiety, Panther spoke up again. “Maybe something we could sing together?”
Everyone in the booth nodded in unison, agreeing to support their leader.
“But what are we actually singing?” Winky asked.
“Good question!” Pinkydink said. “Now we’re in Buzznya, how about we sing a regional classic?”
Toe blinked. “Huh?”
Pinkydink smirked. “Only the legendary Don’t Stop Bee-lieving.”
Eyes lit up around the room. Even as far away as Rosaka, they’d heard of the legendary ballad of two bees finding each other in the darkness of the Buzznyan night.
“Alright,” Toe agreed. “As your captain, I’ll do it.”
Three, two, one… “Just a small town bee,” they all sang, “livin’ in a lonely tree!”
“Ewwwwwww. It looks super gross. Do we have to?” Yellow Eye asked, squinting at the off-colour bottle of liquid placed on the team’s table.
“You have to keep promises,” Blue Eye retorted.
Green Eye grimaced. “I mean… is it really such a big deal…?”
Red Eye had bought the bottle of Non-Descript Yellow Soda as a joke in 2022 after they’d gotten last in Block Pushing. We’ll share this bottle when we finally medal in a strength event, they’d said, confident that such a situation would remain hypothetical for the rest of their careers. Everyone had laughed, agreed, and mostly forgotten about it.
The Crazy Cat’s Eyes rest in the sand as the final Raspberry Racer falls from the balancing beam, securing them a victory in the third-place match. (Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)
Red Eye wanted to eat those words now. But with Blue Eye pouring the soda into everyone but Cyan’s glass, their choices were beginning to seem limited.
“Let’s get this over with,” Red Eye grunted. They shut their eyes and steeled themselves. Then, alongside the others, they knocked back the entire glass in a single gulp, careful not to let it linger.
They tasted the musty, soured flavour nonetheless, almost retching as it hit them. Similar sounds of revulsion were heard from around the table.
“So how’s it taste?” Cyan asked.
Red spluttered and groaned. “Uh… Tastes like victory.”
Following a second gold medal placing them at the top of the standings, the Bumblebees had decided that they should spend the two-day break enjoying some peace and quiet away from the fans. The day after Tug-of-War, the five of them had bid farewell to Queen and packed their bags for a Hubelino-reunion camping expedition in the woods alongside the Maniacs and Blackjacks.
Swax, Bumble, Minty Fresh, and Heart had split off from the group to go deeper into the forest, further from the city lights, to set up camp. Before the fire was even lit, Fresh had begun telling ghost stories.
“Yeesh, you’ve officially spooked me now,” Swax whined, shivering. Fresh’s tale about a spirit that lurked in cold places and sucked the breath from its victims had bordered on terrifying, and it wasn’t helping that Bumble was still struggling to get the flames going. “Where’d you get such a hardcore story from, anyway?”
Fresh smiled, happy to have successfully scared Swax. “Misty told me it.”
“Explains why it was set on a secret mountain,” Swax grumbled.
“I didn’t know you’d been speaking to Misty,” Heart hummed. The Hazers’ notorious secretiveness was not easy to break.
“Sure I have! We’ve started up an MVM club. Another silver medal and you might get in, Bumble.” Fresh laughed.
The fire finally roared to life, illuminating everything with a warm nostalgic glow. “Well, I’ll do my best,” Bumble said. “MVM would be nice. But… Team podiums make a more important point. They prove everyone who thinks a team of ex-rivals can’t be successful or work together wrong.”
The Bumblebees, Pinkies, and Crazy Cat’s Eyes on the podium for Tug-of-War. (Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)
Lit up by the crackling flames, Bumble watched as Fresh and Heart turned to each other, exchanging between them a knowing look.
“Hey, what’s with the conspiring over there?” Bumble protested, half-jesting. Fresh and Heart both jumped in their seats.
“What conspiring?” Heart said, bluffing coolly as usual.
“I mean… we could probably tell them, right? As long as they keep it secret.”
“Please no more ghost stories,” Swax pleaded.
Fresh chuckled. “Nah, this one’s a story from the beginning of the Hubelino Tournament.”
Swax and Bumble settled down together on a log by the fire to listen as Fresh started to set the scene.
“So… there’s something about the tournament you don’t know the whole truth of.”
“What? Really?” Though their team hadn’t been in the first edition, Bumble had been a fan since the beginning. It was hard to imagine there was anything they didn’t know by now.
“Yeah. Right before the start, two athletes each from the Bluefastics and Valiant Violets had to pull out. Dory, Mako, Salvia and Vivid. Without eight full teams, we almost couldn’t put it on,” Heart replied.
“It was looking disastrous. But they recruited four athletes who’d lost their team when their tournament ended in 2015. Two of them went to each team under the same pseudonyms, and that’s how Hubelino was saved.” Fresh added.
The Bluefastics and Valiant Violets face off in the Hubelino Tournament’s Pursuit Slalom. (Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)
“So, wait. The ones we know aren’t the same as the ones in 2016?” Bumble asked, shocked. But at the same time, it made sense- those four never joined in with the stories told in 2018 of 2016.
“That’s right.”
“Wow…”
“It’s an interesting story,” Swax interjected, “but the Bluefastics and Violets weren’t that great, right?”
“Sure, they didn’t do amazingly. It was tough for them.” Fresh added. “But that original team, now ex-rivals, reformed more robust than ever. They even became champions.”
“Wait, they’re still out there? Could I meet them?” Bumble asked.
Heart and Fresh shared the conspiratorial look again.
“Here’s the thing… You already have,” Heart said.
Bumble’s eyes went wide. “Wait, what?”
Em collapses onto the grass dramatically. “I can’t do it,” they say, panting. “My energy… is gone.”
“Stop being so dramatic, Em,” Ruu chides. “Maybe if you didn’t miss gym class for two years you wouldn’t be so weak.”
Saffy gives Ruu a cross look. “Not cool.”
Em sits up, still exhausted and distraught. “It’s a twenty-minute walk to the stadium, and the popup Showdown signing ends in fifteen.”
“What, you made us run half the way for nothing, then?” Ruu says, a hint of annoyance in their voice.
Saffy ignores Ruu, instead looking into Em’s eyes and shaking them. “Hey. Would the Stars quit just because things seem difficult? Would the Wolfpack? The Ducks? Momo?”
“Well…”
“No, they wouldn’t!” Saffy exclaims. “The Em I know doesn’t give up, no matter what. You’re going to get up, run over there, and get all the signatures you can!”
Em leaps up, energized by the pep talk. “You’re right!” They let out a whoop as they dart off down the street once again, leaving their two friends behind.
“How’d you do that?” Ruu asked.
“I know how to push their buttons. Sometimes they just need a bit of encouragement.” Saffy lets out a wistful sigh. “I hope they make it. I really want them to be happy.”
Later that day, a grinning green marble makes their way home with a plethora of signatures; one blasting off, one on fire, one leafy green, and one in a shell.
Event 5 of Marble League 2023: 5 Meter Sprint. (Design Credit: Flamigiri)
On Snowy’s bedroom wall hung two individual golds.
The first they’d earned during S1’s Short Circuit GP. There they’d learned that to stand alone on the top step of the podium was an incomparable experience.
The second was from the 2022 Showdown’s Sand Rally, the final event, before which the Snowballs had been sixteenth and staring down relegation. Snowy had done the maths on the standings. At minimum, they needed to win a bronze. Realistically, they had to secure a gold medal.
The steep sandy slope loomed, asking of them one question- you know what you have to do to fix this, but are you strong enough to do it?
Snowy had answered in the affirmative. Last-second, they secured the requisite gold. But their victory gave them no joy; only relief. The medal hung above their bed only to remind them that their chance to qualify at all was hard-fought and barely won.
When they returned home next, a Marble League gold would join them. Nothing between their progression out of the semi-final to crossing the line in first to approaching the top step of the podium had felt real, but their medal was a tangible confirmation of reality. The satisfaction and pleasure of victory ran so deep inside of them that they could almost submerge themselves in it.
Snowy, Bumble, and Rapidly on the podium for 5 Meter Sprint. (Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)
And though it was their solo victory, they returned from their silent contemplation in the locker room to find themselves surrounded not just by the Snowballs but by the Gliding Glaciers, all cheering in unison.
“Go, captain!” Snowstorm shouted, echoed by the rest of the Snowballs. “You were amazing out there. I might just cry.”
“I figured we should go and celebrate your performance somewhere. How about a joint picnic in the center of Buzznya?” Glide announced. Everyone resumed cheering.
“That sounds amazing,” Snowy said. They’d have time to sit in the dark and look at their medal later. Right now they wanted to share their happiness. “…Do we have food, though?”
“We’re gonna order some!” Snowblast replied. “And we made sure to finish fighting about what to order before you got out of the changing room!”
Snowy couldn’t bite back a laugh. “That means a lot.”
The decision made, everyone started to head out. But Snowy still found themselves trailing behind, having had their days’ fill of going fast. When Iceberg stopped and pulled them aside they assumed it was to complain about their slowness.
“You can’t tell anyone I said this, alright?” they said, not quite meeting their gaze. “But of anyone out there… I’m glad to have lost to you.”
Snowy would have been happy to hear that from anyone. Knowing Iceberg’s competitive spirit, it was high praise indeed.
“…Thanks. And you better get used to losing to us.”
“Bring it on.”
Coming into the Sprint, memories of Ruzzy’s last-second overtake in the Hurdles were fresh in Rapidly’s mind. This time they’d barely managed to avoid a repeat of it, fending off another last-second lunge from Razzy to stand on the podium again.
It was an exhilarating feeling to be back on form, and receiving a rare shoutout from Greg on their individual career success only made it sweeter. But once the congratulations from their team had calmed down, Rapidly sought out not the rest of the podium but Yellow. They found the tenth-place marble quietly grabbing a can of herbal tea from a vending machine inside the stadium. They also found Razzy, already by their side.
“Aw, are we doing a heats reunion here?” Yellow asked, drink clattering into the tray behind them. “Where’s Sterling?” Though their tone was upbeat, the aura of disappointment was unmistakable.
The four racers of the fourth heat rest after a hard-fought sprint. (Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)
“It’s a shame we couldn’t share the final again.” Rapidly began. Every sprint event had Yellow’s mastery hanging over it, and it had shocked Rapidly to watch them fail to make it out of the first heat.
“C’mon, are both of you gonna give me the sappy treatment?” Yellow laughed. Rapidly glanced over to Razzy; clearly, they’d said something similar. “Sure, I didn’t win… or make it past the heats… and my team’s having kind of a rough time. But that’s life, right? You two made it and I didn’t.”
“You don’t seem very happy with things,” Razzy replied. And though they wouldn’t put it as bluntly as Razzy, Rapidly had to agree.
“I’m fine. I’ll get my groove back later.”
“You’re still one of the greatest League athletes out there,” they concluded, prepared to leave them alone. To their surprise, Yellow smiled a little.
“Thanks. Means a lot coming from you.” They turned away, gazing wistfully down the yawning length of the stadium’s maze of internal corridors. “Let’s hang out again when I’ve got something to be cheerful about, yeah?”
“Of course,” Razzy replied. “You too, Rapidly?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for Marblearth.”
It wasn’t gold, but it certainly felt like it.
It was all a blur if Bumble was being honest. Finales were always emotional, and this one was no different. For now, they stood atop the podium with dizzying elation. A silver. Bumble’s silver. Snowy, Rapidly…Bumble. Snowy had blitzed past them with their signature terrifying speed, of course, but it didn’t change that they were standing next to them now.
Snowy blitzes ahead of their competition in the final. (Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)
This day felt familiar to them in more ways than one. Just under four months before, Bumble had used the same strategy to try to wrestle the Casino Square GP gold in their favor. Nearly five years earlier, Bumble descended the Big Tower at the conclusion of the Hubelino Tournament and won gold, besting the Ruby Rollers’ Rollo to secure the championship. And over a decade ago, Bumble had found the highest glory they could have ever dreamed of.
“Our city didn’t have an official sports team, and I wanted to change that,” Bumble had explained in an interview. “I knew Bea, Swax, Honey, and Bomble from playing bugby in club sports.”
Bumble had declined to mention that they had trouble making friends growing up on the outskirts of Buzzpig, working on their family farm. They joined the club after meeting Honey, who was browsing the honey sticks sold by Bumble’s family at a farmer’s market.
“My bugby buddies are going to love these!” Honey exclaimed during their purchase. “These must make a great gift for your friends, too.”
Wanting buddies of their own, Bumble attended their first bugby practice the following week. They’d remember that day forever.
Bumble blushed as they rolled into the locker room to total darkness. Their parents had hinted they would be in attendance for today’s event, and Swax had played it a little too cool when asked about their post-event plans. So when the lights flickered on, Bumble was far from surprised, but nonetheless grateful, to find a fresh batch of honey sticks in their locker.
“SURPRISE!” the team yelled anyway. All team personnel was present, including Bea and Bomble from the front office, and Bumble’s parents, who rolled in bringing a large crate of honey sticks for the whole team to enjoy.
“I…” Bumble started tearing up. “Thanks, everyone. This really has been a Marble League to remember, and getting to earn a silver on our team anniversary is…it’s special.”
“Getting to be your teammate is special,” gushed Honey.
“And getting to be your friend,” added Bomble, “is the most special!”
Bumble smiled. Raising their honey stick in the air, they motioned for everyone else in the room to do the same. “On one…two…three…”
“UP THE BEES!” everyone exclaimed.
Momo had no words that even came close to expressing their disappointment.
In a completely unexpected move, it would not be Momomo or Mimo to blaze their way to gold; it would be them. If the fans didn’t know why, Momo knew less about it.
Theories ranging from plain bad management to Momomomomo buckling under the pressure to quell a sudden “Momo Fever” that had sprung up across fansites and media after the captain’s Marbula One championship were already being thrown around by fans to explain the odd choice; the fans’ guesses were as good as their own.
Whatever the cause, it had its effect. And its effect was a dead-last outing when they needed points badly, sinking Team Momo further in the standings after an already rough first quarter. Second to last.
Momo sighed as they looked through their things. The captain with arguably the most momentum heading into this year’s League putting on that sort of showing was unacceptable. The kneejerk calls for their resignation as captain were sure to flood in. Either that or the continual echoes of the barely started season being “momover” already would grow louder and louder.
They pulled out a medal at long last. The gold that still shined brightly at every angle and the engraved text that served as the reminder that they were a Marbula One individual champion against all odds was a mockery now. Why they even brought this was beyond them; maybe they had gotten a little too used to marbles begging and pleading to see it to forget.
Momo, donning their Marbula One individual championship medal. (Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)
Without thinking, they rolled up to the mirror in the room and slipped the golden ribbon around them, the medal glimmering as proudly as it had the first time they wore it. They smiled into the glass as if their reflection was the thousands of fans who had waited years for this moment, hoping to see the version of Momo who carried their achievements with pride and grace, the version of themselves who would lead Team Momo to greatness once again.
Their smile faded the longer their blurred gaze lingered on their reflection.
Will this case be left unclosed by sidekick blue and super sleuth?
Pay attention, keep close notes, and you just might find out the truth.
They need to find the culprit soon whose lips are all but sealed,
Can you solve the mystery before all is revealed?
Before the Storm
by Flamigiri
Two marbles stood outside the front entrance of a modest two-story party house; the devilishly clever Pinky Panther and the comparatively less clever Royal. They stared intently at the phone that the latter held between them.
“Tell me again, how much did you spend to rent this place?” Pinky Panther inquired.
“Oh, it wasn’t that much,” Royal replied. “I know someone.”
“Fascinating.”
“This is the eighth time you’ve said the word fascinating tonight.”
“Naturally. It’s the eighth thing I’ve found fascinating.”
Royal rolled their eyes as the two continued to scroll through the details of the house.
A map of the fascinating party house. (Design Credit: Flamigiri)
“Each of the rooms has a huge window that can open, except for the foyer,” Royal said. “And it says the entire building is symmetrical. Every nook and cranny on the west side is mirrored on the east side as well.”
“How curious,” Pinky Panther replied, no doubt musing deeply.
“This is the fifth… nevermind. Did I give you your cellar key?”
“Indeed you did! I tested it out myself. It works like a charm!”
“Ah, well, good. Apparently, one of the keys I handed out is broken, but I don’t know which.”
Pinky Panther stroked their chin thoughtfully. “Fascinating.”
“I know Spade’s works too, since I saw them earlier on. Speaking of…” Royal pulled out a checklist. “Not very many marbles actually came. You sent out all of the invites, right, Panther?”
“Yes,” Pinky Panther replied, lying.
“Right,” Royal replied, definitely believing them. “Well, we might as well go through everyone attending, for insurance purposes.”
Aside from the two organizers of the party, seven marbles had shown up: Rojo Tres, Mary, Billy, Momo, Orbit, Snowy, and Spade.
Royal threw Pinky Panther a look. “Did you only send one invite per team?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny this,” responded Pinky Panther, which meant yes.
Royal metaphorically rubbed their temples in exasperation. “Well, at least some marbles. It’s 9:40 already. We should head inside and enjoy the party.”
As the words left their mouth, the lights inside the house simultaneously turned off, leaving the pair outside in the evening darkness.
“Aha, the power went out! Fortunately for us, there’s an emergency power box by the front door!” Pinky Panther said, approaching it. “This will only take a minute!”
Twenty minutes later, Pinky Panther finally hit the switch labeled “on,” and the lights inside flickered back on. Unexpectedly, at that exact instant, Mary burst through the door.
“Hey! Are you guys alright out here?” they exclaimed, concerned, looking between the two marbles already standing outside.
“As far as I’m aware, neither of us have been harmed,” Pinky Panther replied. “We fixed the power as fast as possible.”
“Really? It felt like a pretty long time.”
“Anyways, we had best check up on the others,” Pinky Panther said quickly. “It would be less than ideal if one of them has tripped.”
The three entered the house. A glass of fruit juice had been spilled in the foyer, creating a glossy puddle of red in front of the ballroom door.
“Seems like this spill has been here for quite a while,” Pinky Panther said, leaning over it. “And it hasn’t been disturbed since it was spilled, it seems. No tracks.”
Royal rolled their eyes. “Now’s not the time to analyze a stain, Sherlock Rollmes. We need to check on the others.”
Sherlock tried to skirt around the spill but quickly gave up and rolled over it. Royal and Mary followed, but nothing could have prepared them for what they would find.
Lying in the center of the ballroom was the unmoving body of Spade. The dented metal candlestick lying next to them made it abundantly clear what had happened. Royal let out a yelp. Mary’s eyes widened. Even the normally level-headed Pinky Panther was taken aback.
After a moment that seemed to last forever, Pinky Panther delicately approached Spade. “No pulse. They’re dead,” they said flatly.
Royal let out another screech, loud enough for the entire house to hear. The remaining partygoers rushed to the ballroom. Rojo Tres arrived first, from the dining room, shocked into silence by the body. Next came Orbit, who let out a gasp as they barreled in. Snowy and Momo entered together. The former paled at the sight, while the latter recoiled instinctively. Finally, after another minute, Billy arrived and nearly fainted on the spot.
A heavy silence filled the room like a thick fog, each guest unable to find the will to speak. Seemingly an eternity before Royal sputtered. “Wh-who did this!?”
“Why, it’s elementary, my dear Kobalt,” Pinky Panther said gravely.
“Don’t patronize me.”
“If Royal and I were outside the entire time, that means…”
Pinky Panther paused, gazing at each of the other six marbles in the room.
“…one of you is the killer.”
Do You Want Mustard On That?
by Evolution
Mary rolled into the kitchen, with Pinky Panther and Royal trailing behind them. They each hopped onto the leather barstools around the island, covered with off-white linoleum on top and wood paneling on the sides. The kitchen was spacious—a large fridge, countertops that stretched across the wall, and tile flooring. Pinky Panther and Royal sat facing the window, which provided a view of the inky black sky and the base of an old, winding tree. The end of a fraying rope danced in the wind, stretching up past the view of the window.
“Alright, Mary,” Pinky Panther said, leaning in. “Let’s begin. Walk me through your night.”
“Okay,” Mary said. “When we first came in, Snowy and I were in the dining room having some drinks.”
“From the kitchen?” Panther interrupted.
“From the cellar,” Mary replied. “Snowy went down to grab them.”
“Why are there drinks in the cellar?”
“I don’t know, I didn’t put them there.”
“Why are you asking so many questions about that? It’s not important,” Royal said impatiently. They were more pleasant as they turned to Mary and asked, “How long were you in the dining room for?”
“About half an hour, I think. Snowy left before I did.”
“And you were just sitting in there?” Panther asked, their suspicion evident.
“Yeah. Playing on my phone a bit and looking at the furniture. There’s a really well-crafted vase in there, so I sent a picture of it to Imar,” Mary said.
“Where did you go after you left the dining room?” Panther asked.
“To the kitchen,” Mary replied. “I heard some noise, so I went to see what happened.”
“And what happened?” Panther prompted.
“If you stopped interrupting me, I’d tell you,” Mary snapped. Royal gave Panther an ‘I told you so’ look.
“It didn’t look like anything had fallen, but Rojo Tres was there,” Mary explained. “They seemed kind of dazed, and went to the dining room after saying hi.”
“How curious,” Pinky Panther mused. Royal rolled their eyes.
“I stayed in the kitchen after that and made myself a sandwich,” Mary continued. Panther opened their mouth to say something else before Royal bumped their side to shut them up. Mary noticed, and said with a smile, “Ham and cheese with honey mustard. There was some fruit juice in the fridge, too.”
“What did you do after that?” Royal asked.
“I ate it and went into the foyer. I heard another noise, and then after a little bit, the power went out. I stayed in there until it came back on, and then I ran into you two,” Mary said.
“And that’s all that happened?” Pinky Panther asked.
“That’s all that happened,” Mary confirmed.
Panther nodded. “Then some follow-up questions,” they said confidently, re-adjusting in their seat. “The power went out, but the only way to get into the fuse box is with a screwdriver. Do you know anything about that?”
“Oh, Momo doesn’t know how to use a screwdriver,” Mary said. When met with a look of confusion from the detectives, they elaborated, “Back in 2019 when Team Momo visited us in Van Gotterdam, Prim and I asked Momo to help mount a new painting Prim made to decorate our training facility. We left them alone for a few minutes and when I came back, it was the saddest thing I’d ever seen. Them holding a screwdriver with a bunch of screws scattered around, looking like they were just told their puppy went missing,” Mary chuckled. “They still don’t know how to use one to this day.”
Royal blinked. “Alright. And you were saying that Rojo Tres was acting strange in the kitchen?”
“Yes,” Mary replied. “They were standing in the middle of the floor just kind of staring. There was no food or drinks out, so I don’t know what they were doing, or what fell over to make that noise.”
“Very fascinating,” Pinky Panther said.
“If you want to know what I think, looking back on it now, I think Tres did it. They were acting too weird in the kitchen,” Mary said. “And you know, back in 2016 we trained with the Rollers a couple of times. Tres seemed pretty strong then. We went to this climbing gym and they were clearing some of the exercises like it was nothing. And training with a Marble Rally athlete for so long, they must know how to get around quickly. If I had to take a guess, the thud I heard was Tres striking Spade with the candlestick, and then they ran into the kitchen and were contemplating what they’d done when they saw me,” Mary finished.
“Well,” Pinky Panther said, taking a breath. “I think the killer is you, Mary.”
“Woah, where’s this coming from?” Mary exclaimed, backing up in their seat.
“I’ve been butting heads with Panther all night, but I agree with them on this,” Royal admitted. “You’ve been acting suspicious this whole interview. I think after the power went out, you killed Spade and tried to run from the scene through the foyer. But when you saw us outside and realized that plan wouldn’t work, you acted innocent and walked with us to the body to try to clear your name, and now you’re passing the blame onto somebody else.”
“And we can’t even get started on the stories everyone’s heard,” Panther interjected.
“That is true,” Royal murmured. “I never gave much stock to those, but maybe they were true after all.”
Mary seemed frozen in shock at Royal’s accusation, but as soon as Panther spoke, Mary’s eyes narrowed. “Hold on. What have you heard?”
“That you light things on fire for fun, use dangerous chemicals and metals willy-nilly, play with knives and other dangerous tools. The list goes on, really,” Panther said.
Mary seemed like they knew more about these stories than they were letting on. “Uh-huh. And who told you that?”
Pinky Panther thought for a moment, but finally answered, “Prim. It’s sad that the words of your kin became evidence for your conviction.” Unlike Panther, Royal realized the implications of what was said and flushed with embarrassment.
Mary clicked their tongue. “That explains it. We have this game where we spread exaggerated lies about each other and see how long it takes for it to get back to the other marble.” They let out a sigh. “Sucks that it came back to bite me during a murder investigation…”
“That’s preposterous!” Panther exclaimed. “They’re so widespread, surely some of them must be true.”
“Well, every lie has an ounce of truth,” Mary began. “The fire thing probably comes from all the ceramic stuff I do. I’ve gone to a couple of wood firings throughout the years. I loaded a couple during university, actually. They’re really cool-looking, the flames spit everywhere when it gets to the highest temperature. Dangerous chemicals I think could be the solvents we use for art restoration—ones for removing glue, removing dirt, and varnishing. Knives and other tools I’m not completely sure of. I guess it’s whittling knives, I did some whittling while Prim and Aryp were away for season three of Marbula One.”
Pinky Panther and Royal both stared blankly. At last, Royal spoke up. “Then, if you guys make up lies about each other as a game… does that mean that Prim didn’t actually drink their paint water once in university?”
“No, that was real.”
By a Peacock’s Feathers
by Momoikkai
The landing area of the second floor was unarguably the most boring part of the whole house with its severe lack of interesting things from the walls to the floor; thus, it made for a perfect interrogation site.
“Alright,” Pinky Panther started, continually rolling around Momo for dramatic effect, “tell me what you know about the murder. The one you committed, to be specific.”
“I know I didn’t do it,” Momo deadpanned. “What makes you think I would do something like that? Someone who had to witness their teammate get hurt so badly all those years ago wouldn’t dare to do the same to someone, so thinking I’d go a thousand steps further with killing someone is kind of rude…”
Pinky Panther didn’t flinch. “Everyone’s going to say that. Your claims mean nothing without proof.” They put on an expression of deep thought, obviously fake. “For all I know, your pride could be your downfall.”
Momo scowled at the sudden accusation. “My pride? What are you even talking about-“
“It’s elementary, my dear Momo. Surely the winning dumpling would want more titles to their name,” Panther started, still circling their suspect. “Doesn’t winning both the Marbula One individual championship and Most Valuable Marble award in a single year sound too enticing to pass up? Why, the easy thing to do in order to ensure that caliber of victory… lessen the playing field, of course.”
“The Black Jacks aren’t in the League this year,” Royal said disappointedly, “and Momo can’t even win the award anymore. Are you sure you were a detective before joining the League…?”
“So, what do you know?” Pinky Panther repeated their request as they finally came to a stop in front of Momo, acting as if Royal had never said anything. “Now’s your chance to prove your innocence… if you even can.”
“I’m not a killer-“
Royal mouthed something to them in the middle of their small outburst; it looked something like “just talk.”
A frustrated sigh from Momo. “…okay, fine, I’ll talk if it means I can enjoy the rest of my night without you randomly accusing me of murder.”
Pinky Panther smiled. “That’s what we wanted to hear. Explain away, dear Momo.”
They took a deep breath before starting. ”Well, I started my night in the ballroom. Orbit and Spade were also there. At some point Orbit and I kinda started dancing together. I don’t consider myself a good dancer so I’m sure whatever we were doing looked like a mess, and I think I knocked them over so hard once that they dropped a key or something. It still worked after that, though…” Their expression turned from irritated to sheepish after the admission. “That’s the last I saw of Spade all night, I swear.”
Royal started scribbling notes down. “Then what?”
“I went into the kitchen after I had enough of embarrassing myself. I saw Snowy there and we started to talk. We talked about the usual things you talk about with others; how the season is going, wondering how the final results might look, maybe some assorted gossip we heard from our teammates, stuff like that. Nothing about murder because I’m not a murderer, unlike what some marbles here might think.” As if to stress the last bit, they gave the detective a cold look.
“Fascinating… oddly specific with that last bit, but fascinating either way,” Pinky Panther mused.
Royal looked up from their notes. “Was Snowy the only other marble you saw the whole time?”
“Mhmm. The two of us kept talking as we rolled around the place. Very beautiful, I might add. Sort of makes me wonder how much it cost you to rent it out. We went upstairs after a bit and then we split up around here.” Momo motioned to the social room. “I don’t know where Snowy went, but I went into the social room. And just as I do so, the lights go out! Nothing I can’t handle, but definitely a little annoying.”
“Did anything stand out to you in there?” Royal asked. “I know you couldn’t see anything if you’re telling the truth, but maybe something felt off?”
Momo looked off somewhere. “I heard someone crying in the bathroom, I think. Whoever it was must have been having a terrible night… I can’t help but feel bad for them…”
“Fascinating. Any chance you know who it was?”
“I’m not entirely sure… it wasn’t Mary, that’s all I could tell you. Unless they were crying over other things, I don’t see any reason for someone who begs for the lights to be turned off during scary movies and enjoys painting starry skies at weird times in the middle of the night to be sobbing during a blackout,” Momo answered.
“How curious…”
“Do you only have two responses to everything…?” Royal muttered under their breath.
“I stayed put until the lights came back on. When they came back on, Snowy was back at my side as if we hadn’t split. We barely got to continue our conversation before we heard the screams from downstairs and needed to see what was going on… that’s all I have.” Momo shot a glare towards the detective. “Anything else you need?”
Pinky Panther stared at them for a bit before asking, “Could you tell us a bit more about Mary in contexts that pertain to murder, actually? You two seem awfully close, with Momary being a bond that never dies and all. Perhaps you two are just looking out for each other?”
Momo’s expression turned to shock. “Are you accusing them of murder too!? Mary would never! I mean, they’re pretty strong as they’ve shown in pushing and climbing things so maybe that counts for something when it comes to effectively killing others, but plenty of marbles who aren’t murderers are good at those things.”
“Interesting…”
They tutted and shot another glare at the detective, obviously unhappy with the direction of the conversation. “Honestly, is there no set of ethics for being a detective or what? What sort of investigator just comes out swinging with murder accusations out of nowhere?”
“This one does,” Royal replied with a nudge to their partner.
Pinky Panther returned Momo’s intense look before smiling. “I think that’s all the information I need. Thank you for your time, Momo. This was very productive!”
Momo started to roll away, but not without a roll of the eyes and a scoff.
Once Momo was out of the picture, Royal turned to Pinky Panther. “So… what do you think? Do you think they could have done it? Did they say something we need to keep an eye on?”
“I’m not sure,” they admitted, a smirk finding them, “but I do know that tonight got a lot more… interesting.”
A Scarlet Number
by Vector
“Ahh, the dining room. 94% of murders take place there, did you know that?” Detective Pinky Panther mused as they made their way down the stairs and towards the aforementioned room.
Royal looked back at them, baffled. “That’s not even remotely true. Like, at all. How would that actually be proven? It’s such an unverifiable statistic and I for one-“ Royal was cut off abruptly after Panther ‘accidentally’ shut the door in their face as the detective entered the room without them.
Sighing deeply, Royal reopened the door and headed into the dining room to join Panther. “Who are we interviewing now?”
The mansion’s dining room was excessive in its excessiveness; between the chiseled-from-stone wallpaper and the polished mahogany table with its abundant maximalist decoration, the room very much felt indulgent in itself. Pinky sat down on one of the cushioned dining chairs, chewing the scenery. “Hmm… how about Rojo Tres next?”
“Ready when you are.” The aforementioned Rojo Tres appeared next to some kind of antique cabinet, holding a balled-up towel, surprising the detective and their assistant.
“How long have you been here!?” Royal asked, startled.
“Longer than you two have.” The Rojo Roller went to take a seat at the table next to Panther. “Broke a cereal bowl over, had to clean that up- I was just looking for a place to put the towel. Not murdering anyone, I promise!” Tres stifled a chuckle.
“Sure… y’know most people don’t usually joke about murder on the night of a murder.” Royal contended.
“Sorry, sorry! Just nerves is all. It’s been a tense night.”
“…Okay Tres, can you walk us through what you experienced tonight?” Royal asked.
“I mean I was asleep for quite a while… so I might not know all of what happened.”
“That’s fine, just tell us what you know.”
“Ok. Like I said, I was asleep until about a quarter past nine- wait no, it was slightly later than that. Either way, I was awoken around that time by a sharp, loud noise. I think someone was crying.”
“Crying?” Royal was intrigued. “Any clue who it was?”
“Could it perhaps have been the tears of… themurderer!?” Pinky Panther chimed in.
“In what way would Tres possibly know that?!”
“Trust me, Royal. You just aren’t as experienced in the detective process as me.”
Royal rolled their eyes and once again let out a deep sigh of regret. Meanwhile, ignoring Panther completely, Rojo Tres continued. “I have no idea who was crying, but my word if it wasn’t the loudest spate of noise I had ever set ears upon. In fact, I was about to get out of bed and search for whoever was making all the fuss when it felt like a floorboard came loose or something- and I just slipped and ended up in the kitchen!”
“A floorboard?” Royal looked perplexed.
“Well… I suppose it wasn’t just a floorboard, but that’s what it felt like. Either way- I fell from the bedroom to the kitchen.”
Panther, who had finally managed to start taking the situation seriously, began to ask questions themselves… “The fall must have been pretty loud itself. Was anyone alerted?”
“Yes, actually!” Replied Rojo Tres. “Mary was in the kitchen drinking something. I don’t think it was soda, but I’m not sure. Although… I guess they only heard me? Because they went into the dining room almost as soon as I fell. I assume they thought the noise came from here? I honestly have no clue.”
“Did you actually get to speak to Mary at all?” Asked Panther.
“Nope… by the time I picked myself up off the floor and got into the dining room they had already left. And then… well, there was another loud noise- not crying this time, just this abrupt thudding sound- a-and then that’s when the lights went out…” Rojo Tres trailed off, looking shaky and nervous all of a sudden.
Royal took over questioning again after Panther suddenly decided that one of the artificial apples laid across the table’s grandiose display was apparently worth investigating. “Ahh yes. The blackout- we believe around that time the murder took place. Now tell me- did you hear or see anything after the lights went out?”
“Nope. Nothing. I just stayed put. Didn’t move an inch. Didn’t see anything, didn’t hear anything. The next time anyone talked to me was… well, it was when we met in the ballroom.” Tres paused briefly. “I’m afraid I never really interacted with Spade all that much, I can’t tell you anything about them you probably don’t already know- the last time we actually had a conversation was maybe 2022- us and our team members went to a climbing gym with Momo and the Rockets right around the end of Marble ManiaX. Other than that… I guess we spoke a little around the 2018 qualifiers?”
“Interesting.” Royal glanced over at Panther, who was attempting to cut the fake apple with a knife, and then back to Tres. “Thank you for your cooperation. ”
With that, Royal pulled Pinky Panther away from the plastic fruit on the table, gathered up their things, and headed out of the dining room to grab Billy.
“…So… did you find anything with the apple back there?” Asked the detective’s assistant, earnestly trying to make small talk.
“Well, being a detective requires you to search every nook and cranny of a room in order to find clues, and sometimes you end up pursuing a rad herring- but oftentimes that red herring in and of itself can lead you to an actual clue, and…”
“You didn’t find anything at all, did you?”
“…Well, no.”
Green With Envy
by Millim
When Panther brought Billy into the social room for interrogation, the next step of their perfectly planned investigation, they expected things to go fairly cleanly. Ask the pertinent questions, note any suspicions, and get a little closer to solving the question of who was culpable for Spade’s murder.
What they were getting was not what they expected. As soon as Panther had gotten Billy down on one of the chairs, they’d broken out into a flurry of violent sobs, a torrent of emotions flooding forward all at once as their eyes grew even redder. Panther and Royal had sat in silence, watching awkwardly as the breakdown progressed, Panther occasionally checking their watch. By their measurement, it was almost ten minutes before the tears concluded.
“S-sorry,” Billy mumbled, voice hoarse from sobbing. “I-I can’t believe Spade is dead…”
Panther made a silent note inside their head; too dramatic; potentially suspicious. “It’s a terrible tragedy. But if you answer some of my and my investigative accomplice’s questions, we’ll solve the mystery in no time. Even if you did it.”
Billy’s expression morphed into one of panic. “I didn’t do it! I promise! I’d never do anything like that! Really!”
Royal turned to Panther and whispered to them underneath Billy’s startled objections. “Would they actually have a motive?”
“Loudly insisting they didn’t do it is exactly what someone who did do it would do,” Panther whispered back.
“Yeah, but that’s not a- ugh, never mind.” Royal turned away from Panther and towards Billy. “Look, we’re not trying to incriminate you. Just be honest, and if you’re innocent, everything will be fine.”
Billy sniffled in their direction. “Don’t I get one phone call I can make? Like you see in films?”
Not willing to risk making them cry again, Panther nodded. “Alright. But just one.”
Billy approached the landline phone plugged into the wall and began to dial a number. Panther listened intently as the call went through.
“Alright, I’m going to say this for the very last time- I don’t want to talk about any sort of warranty, so you can go and-”
“Bombay! It’s me!” Billy said, still sounding panicked.
“Oh! Ignore that little monologue.” Bombay’s voice was a little difficult to make out from where Panther was sitting, but they could just about hear them. “What is it?”
“Um. I’m a suspect in a murder case right now.”
“Oh dear,” Bombay said. “But you didn’t actually kill someone, did you?”
“Of course not!” Billy exclaimed.
“Then just be honest. Anyone can tell you wouldn’t do something like that, so you’ll be able to get this cleared up in no time.”
“You’re just saying that because we’re family. Of course you think I’m obviously innocent.”
“I could come round and show some of your school photos-”
“Uh, nope, no need to do that at all!” Billy squeaked, quickly slamming the phone down and ending the call.
“That’s your one phone call over,” Panther added unhelpfully. Royal shot them a glare. “Ready to answer some questions?”
Billy sniffled again, more pointed. “I guess.”
“Alright. First one; where have you been all night?” Even when they were inside, Panther couldn’t recall seeing much of Billy past when they’d greeted them at the door.
“…I’ve been in the social room all evening. But I haven’t seen anyone else.”
Why Billy would come to a party and not socialize with anyone was beyond Panther, but it wasn’t on their list of questions to ask.
“Second question, then. We’re thinking that a rope might have something to do with the case. What do you know about everyone else’s climbing skills?”
“Well… Snowy’s really bad at climbing. Like, terrible. I guess it makes sense that someone who skis would be more focused on going down than up.”
For someone so soft-spoken, it was a pretty offensive thing to say. But Panther wasn’t there to comment on that; they just noted it down.
“Third question. Can you use a screwdriver?”
Despite how upset they were, Billy seemed almost offended that they’d ask. “Of course I can. I work on light aircraft in my free time. Ask Tres if you have to- I’ve worked with their team before.”
“Alright, alright.” Panther noted that down too. Only one more thing left. “I already know you have a working key, but do you know anything about anyone else’s key?”
“Um… I don’t know if I should give you that information.”
“Suspicious…”
“O-Okay, I’m sorry. Uh, I haven’t seen a lot of anyone today, since I was in the social room for so long… but I did see Rojo Tres and Momo testing their keys earlier, and both of them worked. So… I hope that helps.”
Panther didn’t answer that. It would be giving away too much, they decided. “I’ll see if it does,” they said ominously.
“Can I go now?”
Royal tried their best to smile at Billy. “Of course.”
Panther watched as they left, eyes narrowed. The plot was thickening for sure. Billy seemed to have no motive- but could that be concealing something?
“Hey, don’t get distracted!” Royal chided them.
A Plum By Any Other Name
by Flamigiri
Pinky Panther, Royal, and Orbit sat in the bedroom. The lights were dimmed, set by someone else earlier, and Panther could not figure out how to turn them back up. Moonlight streamed through the curtains, highlighting a piece of rope whose bottom dangled down out of view. The occupants of the room were much more focused on the interior, however.
Orbit seemed much calmer than the other suspects the detective duo had interrogated so far. Naturally, that made them suspicious.
“It was you, wasn’t it!?” Pinky Panther cried.
“Just a moment, please,” Royal said through gritted teeth, grabbing Panther and dragging them out of the bedroom. Once they were alone on the landing, Royal glared at their crime-solving partner. “I told you. No more baseless accusations.”
Panther shrugged sheepishly. “It felt justified to me.”
Royal sighed deeply. “Whatever. Do it again and I’m doing this interrogation alone.”
The two reentered the room, where Orbit was waiting patiently on the bed.
“We’re going to ask you a series of que-“
“Did you do the murder!?”
After Royal locked Panther in the bathroom, the interview resumed.
“Tell me what you did tonight,” Royal prompted.
“Well, it was around nine when I last saw Spade. We were in the ballroom with Momo. You didn’t hear it from me, but they’re not the best at dancing. Spade was there watching, having a good time.”
“I see. And you didn’t see them again?”
“No, I don’t recall seeing anyone for the rest of the night, at least until we were all in the ballroom again.”
Royal jotted this down in Panther’s notebook, their neat, even cursive a heavy contrast to the nearly indecipherable chicken scratch already on nearly every page. They motioned for Orbit to continue.
“After that, we split up. I went to the foyer, and Momo went to the dining room or the kitchen. I don’t remember exactly. Then I went up to the bedroom and stayed there until I heard you shouting downstairs.”
“And you didn’t see anyone during that time?”
“Not a one. I heard some doors opening somewhere, and I heard someone crying in the bathroom during the blackout, but I didn’t see anyone.”
“Not even Rojo Tres?”
“No leading questions!” Panther scolded, muffled by the door between them. Royal rolled their eyes.
“Hm, well, I didn’t see them at all. I can’t imagine they had a good time during the blackout, though. I’ve heard they’re terrified of the dark. Can’t move a muscle if the lights go out,” Orbit explained.
Royal wrote this down. “This may seem like an odd question, but can you use a scr-“
“Ask them about screwdrivers!” Panther called from the bathroom. “Did you do the screwdriver question yet?”
“Yes, I’m literally asking it right now!” Royal exclaimed back, exasperated.
“Uh, well, yeah, I can use a screwdriver. I thought it was a pretty common skill. Snowy can use one too, I think. I’ve seen them working on different odds and ends. Mary can too. Maybe it’s part of their job? Or related to it? I don’t remember.”
“Alright, I think that’s plenty of information. Thanks for being so cooperative. Some of the other interrogations haven’t gone as smoothly…”
Pinky Panther appeared suddenly in front of them. “But they have all been fruitful, in no small part from my excellent deductive reasoning!”
“How did you get out of the bathroom?” Royal sputtered.
“Uh, don’t bathrooms usually lock from the inside?” Orbit offered.
“But of course! With my excellent logic skills, I was able to escape your makeshift prison!” Panther said.
Orbit squinted at them. “It took you that long to figure out you could unlock the bathroom door?”
Panther ignored the question, instead taking a step and falling directly through the floor.
Orbit threw a questioning glance at Royal, who simply shrugged.
“Must be the trapdoor.”
Little White Lies
by Mystic
“I swear I haven’t seen Spade all night, it couldn’t have been me!” Snowy pleaded with Pinky Panther.
“No one said it was. Just answer our questions and you’ll be free to go,” Panther replied gently, attempting to calm down the frightened Snowball for the umpteenth time. “Take a deep breath Snowy. We don’t want to cause any more trouble tonight.”
Snowy, Royal, and Pinky Panther all took a seat in the Foyer. Snowy coughed. “So… w-what do you want to know?” they asked shakily, anxiously glancing out the window.
“Let’s start at the very beginning-”
“A very good place to start,” Pinky Panther interjected, immediately interrupting Royal.
“Now is not the time for musical references, Sherlock. We have to get to the bottom of this.”
“It was worth a try. Go on.”
“Okay,” Royal gathered themselves once more and began their question, “Where were you when the party began?”
“I was with Mary,” Snowy responded nervously.
“And what were the two of you doing?” Panther interjected.
“We were drinking soda… a lot of soda.”
“No fruit juice?”
“Why would we be drinking fruit juice?”
“Unimportant,” Royal responded, shooting a disapproving glance at Pinky Panther. “So you were drinking soda with Mary when the night began. How long did that last?”
“About ten minutes if I had to guess. I went to throw away my soda can and found Momo in the kitchen.”
“Interesting. Did you stay in the kitchen with Momo?” Pinky Panther inquired.
“Not for long,” Snowy responded, slowly gaining confidence as they recalled the night, “We moved here not long after.”
“Is that all?”
“No, we rolled up to the landing. Then we split up and I went to the bedroom. The lights went out as soon as I got there.”
“Was anyone there?” Royal jumped in.
“I didn’t see another marble, but the lights were gone as soon as I rolled in. So, I guess maybe?”
“Interesting, how did the dark make you feel?” Panther paused before adding to their question, “In fact, how does the dark make the others feel?”
“The dark? I’ve never been bothered by it. It’s always prettier back home at night,” the Snowball began to zone off.
“Save the reminiscing,” Royal snapped Snowy back to the moment, “Does anyone here have a different opinion on darkness?”
“As far as I know Billy really does not like it. And there was one time that Tres got frightened when the stadium lights turned off for the Closing Ceremonies. They completely froze up.”
“Good to know. You mentioned Billy, how much have you seen them tonight?”
“Not much, they helped me get into the cellar at the start of the night. I didn’t get my key until a little later.”
“So Billy has a good key,” Panther said, under their breath.
“What?”
“Nothing. Back to your evening. Did you see anyone else again?”
“I did find Momo in the Social Room after the lights came back on. Apparently, they’d been there the whole time it was dark.”
“Is that the last thing that happened before you came downstairs?” Royal asked.
“Before I heard you screeching? Yeah, that’s all.” Panther laughed at Snowy’s description of Royal’s reactions.
“I did not screech,” Royal retorted, “I simply… expressed my shock through a slight noise.”
“I don’t know, I quite like how Snowy recalls it,” Pinky Panther said with a smile, “Thank you for your time Snowy, I don’t think we have much left for you.”
“No problem,” Snowy said before rolling out of the room as fast as possible.
“Well, that’s all of them,” Royal said, turning to Pinky Panther. “Do you think you can crack the case?”
“We’ll just have to see, my dear Watson.”
A Showdown of Wits
by Flamigiri
Six suspects stood silently surrounding Spade’s slain shape sitting stock still center-stage in the ballroom as Pinky Panther contemplated. They weren’t sure if Panther was thinking about the murder or of more words that started with s.
Royal rolled their eyes impatiently. “Look, do you know who did it or n-“
“I’VE SOLVED THE MYSTERY!” Panther exclaimed in all caps. “I know exactly what happened in this house on this night.”
“Whoop de doo,” Royal said, ready to be disappointed.
But disappointed they would not be, for the brilliant Pinky Panther really had cracked the case. They played a jazzy detective theme on their phone, hidden from view, so that to the others, it seemed like their life had incidental music.
“The first mystery we must solve is that of the blackout. How did the murderer get into the cellar?”
“Uh, through the door, obviously,” Royal said.
“That’s where you’re wrong, my true blue-hued companion,” Panther said. “For if they had entered the cellar through the ballroom, Spade would have become suspicious when the lights went out, and they may have been alive right now.”
“That still leaves the foyer and the dining room doors, though.”
“If that were the case, then the culprit would have bumped into Mary or Rojo Tres along the way.”
“Then the culprit must be one of them. Simple.”
“Wrong again, my ultramarine underling. There is a third possibility.”
Royal’s face twisted into something between utter annoyance and complete resignation as Panther continued.
“Is it true, Rojo Tres, that you fell through the floor in the bedroom into the kitchen?”
“Oh, uh, yeah,” Tres replied, not expecting the question. Panther turned to Mary.
“That explains the sound you heard and the sudden appearance of Rojo Tres in the kitchen.”
Royal piped up again. “But that’s the kitchen. How does that have to do with the cellar?”
“Well, my dear Royal, you’ve answered the question yourself,” Panther explained. “Was it not you who said the building is symmetrical from east to west?”
Mary chimed in. “Then that means there’s another trapdoor that leads from the social room to the cellar!”
“Exactly correct, my artistic amigo. Rojo Tres and Mary both heard another thud just before the blackout, which must have been the sound of the culprit jumping down to get access to the fusebox!”
“Or it could have just been one of them lying,” Royal countered. “What about the juice spilled in the foyer in front of the ballroom door?”
“Simply a red herring,” Panther explained. “Our friend Mary here spilled it when the power went out. Or so I suppose. The spill wasn’t there at the start of the night, and you were the last one in the foyer, yes?”
“Well, uh, yeah. I didn’t think it was important,” Mary admitted.
“Think nothing of it. The spill was untouched Royal and I entered the house. That means no one used the door between the ballroom and the foyer during the blackout, so perhaps it was a blessing in disguise.”
“Oh, well, then, you’re welcome?” Mary said.
“But there’s someone else I know has been lying to us,” Panther said darkly. With a dramatic flourish, they pointed. “Billy.”
Billy’s heart stopped for a moment as their name was spoken, but Panther kept talking.
“You claim to have been in the social room the entire night, correct?”
“Y-yes…” Billy stammered.
“But how can that be the case? You would have seen Momo and Snowy in there when the lights turned on.”
Billy paled. “I-I… can explain.”
“No one saw you the entire night, it seems.”
“It wasn’t… I d-didn’t…”
“I did, however, notice something interesting. Rojo Tres, Orbit, and Momo all claim to have heard crying in the bathroom at different points in the night. That was you, wasn’t it?”
Billy remained silent.
“You were too ashamed to let everyone know you spent the entire party crying in the bathroom, so you lied about your location! Everyone else was seen elsewhere in the house, except for you. Unless the house is haunted, those cries could only have come from you!”
Billy remained silent.
Royal piped up, feeling bad for the Green Duck. “Uh, it’s alright, you don’t have to-“
“No, no, I admit it,” Billy said, wiping tears from their eyes. “I spent the entire night in the bathroom like a weirdo. I’m… I’m sorry.”
“Think nothing of it, my canard comrade!” Panther replied, clearly getting the vibes wrong. “The truth revealed itself in time.”
“But that doesn’t help us with the murder,” Royal said. “You just embarrassed Billy in front of everyone for no reason.”
“On the contrary, it was very helpful. Billy is no longer a suspect in this case, and we know now that the culprit could not have ever visited the bathroom! Otherwise, they would have been seen by our green g… friend.”
“Uh-huh.”
“But that means we know the path the culprit took to complete their murder. They jumped from the social room down to the cellar, opened the fusebox, cut the power, entered the ballroom, killed Spade, and entered the kitchen to hide!” Panther exclaimed excitedly.
“But no one entered from the kitchen when you discovered the body. You were with Mary, Tres came from the dining room, and the rest of us came from upstairs,” Momo said.
Orbit piped up. “Then that means it has to be either Rojo Tres or Mary, right? Even if you can get down from the top floor doesn’t mean you can get back up.”
“Actually,” Mary chimed in. “I think there’s another way to get to the main floor.”
Panther turned to Mary once again. “Very astute, my primary pal. There is indeed another way. Cast your mind back to the kitchen.”
Mary nodded. “Yes, there’s a rope dangling outside the window. I assume it leads to…”
“…the second floor,” Panther finished. “Specifically, to the bedroom window, where I saw the rope as well.”
“Ah, so the culprit could have escaped to the second floor after all?” Snowy said.
“Precisely, my shivery chivalry,” Panther confirmed.
“Alright, that one was pretty good.”
Panther did finger guns, then remembered they were supposed to be super cool. They coughed, then went back to their detective schtick. “I believe now everything is clear, and we may deduce the murderer.”
“Really?” asked Royal, half impressed by Panther’s logic so far and half waiting for it to abruptly fail like usual.
“There are five things that must be true about the culprit: First, they must be able to move around in the dark. Second, they must be able to climb up a rope. Third, they must be able to use a screwdriver to open the fusebox. Fourth, they must not have been crying in the bathroom the entire time.”
Everyone looked at Billy for a moment.
“And fifth, they must have a working cellar key.”
“Well, some of these are pretty easy. Both Orbit and Snowy said that Rojo Tres is scared of the dark,” said Royal.
“Well, given what happened tonight, I think that’s a pretty justified fear!” Rojo Tres said indignantly.
“I think it was Billy who said Snowy can’t climb,” Royal continued. Snowy threw a glance at Billy that said ‘Dude, what the heck?’ and Billy threw back a glance that said ‘Uhhhhhhhhh.’
Mary nudged Momo teasingly. “And you can’t use a screwdriver.”
Momo opened their mouth to object, but decided against it, instead opting to pout.
“But how will we know which key is the one that’s broken?” Royal asked.
“W-we could just t-test them right n-now…” Billy murmured.
Panther promptly ignored them. “Well, it’s quite simple, really. Exactly one key is broken. If we know each of the other keys works, then we know which one doesn’t.”
“Ah, that makes sense,” Snowy said.
“Royal, Spade, and I all had working keys. Mary claimed that Snowy had a working key. Snowy proved that Billy had a working key. Billy said that Rojo Tres and Momo both had working keys. Momo explained that Orbit had a working key. That leaves…”
“…me,” Mary finished. “I guess that makes sense. I never tested it out since Snowy grabbed the sodas for us. But that means…”
“Yes,” Panther said. “That means, with every other possible suspect eliminated, there can only be one culprit.”
The other marbles in their room held their breath as Panther paced around the room slowly.
“You lied about being in the bedroom. When you went upstairs, it was to the social room instead. You waited for the perfect opportunity, then dropped down to the cellar through the trapdoor. You quickly unscrewed the panel of the fusebox and turned off the power. Under the veil of darkness, you snuck into the ballroom and struck Spade, who didn’t even see it coming. Then, you went to the kitchen, climbed through the window, and up the rope into the bedroom. Your plan complete, you waited for the body to be found so you could join the rest of the crowd by rushing down the stairs. Isn’t that right, Orbit!?”
A heavy silence descended upon the group once again at Pinky Panther’s accusation. A moment passed. Then two.
Finally, Orbit broke the silence. “Fine. You caught me. I killed Spade.”
Billy looked horrified. Momo let out a gasp. Snowy was pale as a sheet. Pinky Panther said “Booyah!”
Mary glared at Orbit with contempt. “But why’d you do it?”
“Well,” Orbit explained. “It’s quite simple really. We won Marble ManiaX. That M1 invite was ours. We’re the superior expansion team, and those stupid Jacks stole our spotlight!”
“That’s absurd!” cried Royal. “You didn’t need to kill them!”
“Of course I did,” Orbit said plainly. “That’s the game.”
The ballroom rapidly transformed from an ornate hall to a quaint living room, with nine marbles crowded around a small table, cards, and dice strewn about.
“Dangit, why do you always win, Panther?” Mary complained playfully.
“I suppose I’m just cut out for this sort of thing,” Panther replied with a hearty chuckle.
“What did you think of my acting?” Royal asked cheerfully. “I think I played the part of “disgruntled assistant” pretty well!”
“You did pretty good,” Orbit replied, scratching their head. “Dang, and I thought I would get away with it, too!”
Billy stretched. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. And it’s not to cry, I promise!”
“Don’t worry, we believe you,” Rojo Tres said, grinning.
“Hey guys, can I stop lying on the floor now?” Spade called out. “I’m getting sore.”
Momo helped them up. “You were pretty good as a corpse. I almost forgot you were here!”
The group laughed unabashedly. Snowy got up to grab more pizza as the rest of the group began to shuffle the deck and cast the rolls to start the next round.
Event 4 of Marble League 2023: Block Pushing. (Design Credit: Flamigiri)
To lose the battle but win the war. It was an expression that Stinger had once heard, though they were long past remembering the context for it. As it had been explained to them, it meant to give away something of relatively minor importance but ultimately emerge the victor in a given conflict.
If defeat was merging with the Bumblebees but staying in the Marble League was the war, Stinger could tell themself the Hornets disbanding was not the worst thing in the world.
But the truth was that it hadn’t been an easy transition. Not only were they used to the Hornets and their management and their facilities, but they were used to being captain. A captain still had to be a team player and take into account the perspectives of their teammates wherever possible, but the position came with different responsibilities and privileges. They had taken the role for a reason, and it wasn’t in their nature to sit down and let anyone- let alone Bumble, who they’d regarded as their biggest rival- tell them what to do and how to do it. They’d won the war, but to lose the battle gracefully wasn’t easy.
When is it going to start working out? they’d asked Swarm, who’d returned home and started coaching a junior team in the neighborhood where they’d grown up.
It will, they’d said, and you’ll know it when it happens. But you have to be patient.
Looking down at their shiny new gold Block Pushing medal- the first gold medal they’d held that was truly theirs- they wondered if this was it. Though they hadn’t managed to keep the record the team established in the very first run of the event, their consistency as a team had allowed them to surpass the Wisps and claim their very first gold medal on their home turf. A battle lost, a war won.
The Bumblebees, Midnight Wisps, and Savage Speeders on the podium for Block Pushing. (Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)
“Hey, are you planning to stand there and do nothing all evening, or what?”
“Huh?” Stinger blurted, quickly putting the medal away. It’s Hive’s voice. Even back when they were their captain, Hive made sure to keep Stinger alert. This was going to be no exception.
“We’ve got fans at 12 o’clock, and they’re looking for us.”
They shuffled out from the corner they’d barricaded themselves in and emerged to the crowd that had gathered in front of the stadium, baying for the home team to show themselves. Upon seeing them, the assembled fans erupted into cheers.
“Please form an orderly line by the stadium walls!” Bumble called out, their voice ringing out above the din. The entire crowd obeyed immediately, allowing the other teams still barricaded inside to filter out freely. “We’ll get to you all soon, so be patient!”
“They’ve got a voice on them, haven’t they?” Stinger said, turning to Hive.
“Careful with that,” Hive quipped.
“Hey, I meant it in a good way!” Stinger grumbled. They didn’t get to say anything else before Bumble approached.
“So, you think we worked together as a team today?” the Bumblebees captain asked.
Stinger smiled. “Uh, duh. Block pushing is the team event, right?”
“Well, it’s not over yet. See that line over there?” they said, gesturing to the flock of fans who had formed an orderly queue that extended as far as Stinger’s eyes could see. “All of them want an autograph from one of us, and we’re not getting out of here until they’re satisfied.”
“O-Oh. Can we really handle this?” Stinger asked, suddenly beginning to sweat.
“We can if we work as a team,” Honey added, overhearing them. “Swax is setting up the signing desks right now, so get yourself ready.”
Stinger gulped. “What if we get overwhelmed? There’s a lot of folks out there…”
“We won’t,” Bumble said confidently. “Because we now know how to split up the burden the best, right?”
“Yeah,” they said, turning their gaze to the crowd. Though most of the fans wore yellow Bees merchandise, there were plenty amongst them wearing Hornets merch or the new black Bees merchandise. But in the end, it didn’t matter. They would give out signatures all the same. “We’re totally gonna rock this.”
It was all bravado. But amongst their teammates, they could almost believe it.
Outside of Buzznya lies nature untouched by the city’s development; such places made for perfect settings to escape the scramble of urban life and the post-event tensions the Marble League carried.
Enjoying the natural world was and always will be important to the Midnight Wisps; they wouldn’t have become a team if they hadn’t taken a roll through the forest so many years ago. Taking a small hike after an eventful day with their friends on the Savage Speeders made it that little bit more enjoyable, even if those friends were the enemies of so many.
Wospy wasn’t sure where the rest of their team and the Speeders went; all they knew was that they and Velocity were farther up the trail.
“Did you all see us push that block!?” Velocity belted out into the night. “We just rolled up to it and… POW! We totally would have won if it wasn’t for your team making that last push!”
The Midnight Wisps break the record set by the Bumblebees. (Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)
Wospy laughed. “It’s not like we won either…”
As if on cue, Velocity gave Wospy a bump. “But you still did awesome out there, taking your record back and all!” They sighed, a clear twinge of nostalgia in their voice. “Y’know… I missed this.”
“Like, going on hikes-“
“No,” they interrupted, “competing with your team like it’s the Aquathlon in 2020 or Hockey in 2018 again. Competing together when your drive to win is back and more alive than ever… that’s what I’ve missed.” The Speeder rolled ahead further up the trail, leaving Wospy alone.
For Wospy, images of last year came flooding back; the feelings of uncertainty and heartbreak over last year’s performance in the same event were still fresh in their memory, but feelings of optimism and a sense of pride for being a Midnight Wisp for the first time in what felt like years were determined to overwrite the misfortune bit by bit.
“Hey, Wospy.”
They turned around to see Rapidly, their smile one of genuine pride.
“Nice job out there,” they said with a nudge to the Wisp. “It’s just like I said last year, isn’t it?”
It was at times like this where Wospy wished they could express even a fraction of the gratitude they felt towards the marble who had been by their side through both highs and lows despite their team differences; they made a mental note to begin writing it down once again someday.
“The clock will strike midnight again…” Wospy filled in, and a matching smile found them. “…Yeah. It will. Thank you.”
Em stands outside the Superhive Stadium, around the corner from the entrance, away from the eyes of security.
Ruu crouches next to them, surveying the area using a pair of binoculars made of two toilet paper rolls. “Looks like the guards at the door switch out every hour, so you have a five-minute window to get inside.”
“Alright, thanks!”
“Now, my payment?”
“Right. Here.” Em tosses a packet of raspberry jellies at their red-hued friend.
“Pleasure doing business with you,” Ruu replies, quoting one of their favourite television shows before turning and rolling away.
Em, now alone, sits down on the grass. Their quest has been going slow but steady; a chance encounter in an ice cream parlour and another at the local diner brought them their first two autographs. Suddenly, an unexpected marble approaches them.
“Hey, the Speeders got your bee-gram,” Minty Fresh says chipperly to the wide-eyed Em. “I wish you good luck!” They hand the young marble a piece of paper with a wrapped mint attached to it and the phrase “Stay fresh, stay minty” scrawled across it.
“The bee arrived just before their heat, so they can’t reply now,” Minty Fresh continues. “But I heard a rumour that they might be going for a hike after the event. If you can find them, I’m sure they’d be happy to oblige you.”
The beegram in question flew above Superhive’s arena during one of the heats. (Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)
The minty marble rolls away, leaving Em stunned silent but beaming.
After a moment, they rush home to find their compass.
Event 3 of Marble League 2023: 5 Meter Hurdles. (Design Credit: Flamigiri)
Following Razzy’s injury, Ruzzy had stepped in as the Raspberry Racers’ finalist in Marble League 2020’s Hurdles. Pit against three athletes who had prepared months in advance for the event, the odds were stacked against the reserve who had been watching from the stands just moments ago. Yet in an incredible upset, they’d claimed the gold, racing past Swifty, Wuspy, and Yellow Eye to stand on the highest step of the podium.
Now they were back, having sprung past Rapidly and Clementin in front of the Savage Speeders fan section to become the first reserve member with two gold medals.
Podium selfies taken, Ruzzy rolled down to meet their team. In front of the Raspberry Racers fan section, they were greeting the superfans who’d been in the stands in 2020, but all five of them surrounded their reserve when they rolled into view.
“That was incredible!” Rizzy whooped.
“You belong on that step,” Rozzy added.
“Guess that equals us on golds, huh?” Rezzy chuckled. “Hey, wanna say hi to the fans? Got a familiar set of faces out here,” they added, gesturing to a clear marble with a blue swirl who owned an estate in Rubow. Ruzzy called out in greeting and they responded with an energetic cheer.
The first time there’d been no celebration. They’d gone to the infirmarblery and sat quietly as Razzy recovered. But now their captain was here and well to enjoy their victory with them.
“We’ll have a proper outing this time, yes?” Razzy said, smiling fondly.
“Heck yes! Let’s get burgers? Please?” Ruzzy begged, knowing their captain wouldn’t say no. Razzy nodded and they hopped up and down in excitement.
“Only the best burgers in Buzznya for you,” Berry laughed.
They were excited, but sand still clung to them. “Yeah! Gotta grab a shower first, though.”
“Take your time,” Razzy added.
With sand clinging to their uniform, Ruzzy smiles as they revel in their Hurdles victory. (Art Credit: Piney)
Ruzzy departed for the changing rooms, taking their time cleaning up and relaxing. When they returned to the stadium the audience and most of the staffers had left. Only two marbles remained; White Eye and Yellow Eye, tucked into a dark corner.
“I couldn’t make it. What else can I say?” Even without hearing the first part of their conversation, Ruzzy could tell the mood was dour.
“Why couldn’t you make it? This falling short- it haunts our team.”
“I don’t know. Look, losing to a reserve twice doesn’t feel good, believe me.”
Staying was beginning to feel like an intrusion. They left for the exit and met their team outside. They were going to take a tram to a place Swax had recommended.
Fans surrounded them onboard. Rizzy and Rozzy fended off the attention as Ruzzy sat. Despite the excitement around them, they just wanted to contemplate.
Losing to a reserve. Those words hung in Ruzzy’s mind. Did Yellow Eye take losing to them badly because of their position? Was it embarrassing to them to lose to someone they thought they should be better than?
Ruzzy almost couldn’t blame them. They’d seen main members made their team’s reserve for poor performances, and over time they’d watched many reserves move up from the role to become a main member for the opposite. Even Greg had remarked on how exceptional it seemed for them to be there; Ruzzy, the reserve, the only reserve in the finale.
“Hey, Razz.” Their captain was sitting between them and the crowd. “Be honest, does it bother you that your reserve has two gold medals before you have one?”
Razzy smiled, serene. “Absolutely not. Having the most robust reserve? It’s a great credit to our team.”
“It’s not a problem?”
“Ruzzy, I’m proud. So, so proud. I want to finally have the chance to celebrate your victory tonight, so please, don’t worry about it.”
They hadn’t become a reserve to be the weakest member of the team. They had joined knowing their specific job was to help their new teammates. And they had grown in the role because Razzy and everyone else believed in them and trusted them to have their backs.
“Yeah!” Ruzzy squeaked, their worries dismissed. “We’re the best, cap. Let’s go eat some food!”
Ruzzy passes Rapidly and Clementin to take the lead in the final stretch. (Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)
After the festivities have passed for the podium finishers, Rapidly decided to train for the night. On the way, however, they saw Clementin, looking rather content with themself, eating what looked like a candied orange. Feeling like talking to their friendly rivals, they decided to interject, “Y’know, we did beat you in that battle, right?” Rapidly joked.
“Who knows? We might win that war again.” Clementin retorted, also in a joking matter. Both shared a laugh as they reminisced about their close battles against each other. “Feel like chatting?”
Rapidly and Clementin decided to chat for the night, talking about things from the numerous quirks of Buzznya, to certain rumors about the Marble League, to even about their relations with the other teams.
Rapidly started to become curious about why the O’rangers went to become a team as a family as they were both discussing how the other Fruit Circuit teams were doing and their history with each other.
“So, why your family members? What makes them unique to you?” Rapidly asked.
“Family is everything to us O’Marbles.”
Clementin later added, “Why would you of all people ask that type of question?”
The atmosphere suddenly felt wrong. Clementin struggled to keep the mood from going sour while Rapidly became perturbed by Clementin’s question.
“Let’s just say that it is tradition for us Speeders not to say anything about our training,” Rapidly said in a surprisingly bereft tone. “I mean I love my sibling, Speedy, but sometimes they become my own weakness, like I just feel inferior to them.”
Clementin then said in a warm tone, “I’m sure that while you aren’t ‘perfect’ in the essential sense, you’re still their perfect sibling.”
“What do you mean?”
Clementin started to reminisce about the first time they were ever midpack in the standings, “I remembered the time we failed to do good back in Marbula One, we expected disappointment from our fans back at Orlango, but we didn’t get that. It was simply the usual cheers and festivities. And the O’s, can’t forget those.”
They then said, “What I’m saying is that if you love someone or something that much, you tend to forget their flaws. Doesn’t Speedy always defend every action, even if it is the downfall of your team? That’s what being a family means.”
Rapidly then smiled back, “Well… thanks for that.”
They then returned to the lighthearted mood that they had before, starting with “But now you have to keep this conversation from others, okay? This is part of training now.”
“Don’t worry, partner,” Clementin said, winking slyly, “Your secret is safe with me.”
The Raspberry Racers, Savage Speeders, and O’rangers on the podium for 5 Meter Hurdles. (Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)
RUZZY’S BURGER DIARY: ENTRY #216
LOCATION: Buzznya
DATE: 21/10/23
ESTABLISHMENT: Buzzy Bee Diner & Restaurant
ORDERED: Three Patty Cheeseburger, Spicy Fries, Onion Rings & Honey Mustard Dip with Non-Descript Soda
VENUE RATING: Lovely bee-themed decor (everything in Buzznya is bee-themed, but I still liked it). Very clean and all the condiments and utensils we needed were on the table already. Price was good. Kinda noisy, but there were a lot of fans around. We were treated like we were old friends while we were there- and we are! Turns out the place is owned by Vespa, who was in the 2020 Hurdles with me! They came to the table and we reminisced about a lot of fun stories together. We even got some free baklava, but rating that here feels like cheating. 5/5
FOOD RATING: Burger was lovely and juicy and all of the toppings were fresh and crispy. The cheese was different than usual; maybe it’s a regional thing? The spice was unusual as well, but I enjoyed it. Onion rings could have been slightly less fragile to eat but the honey dip really saved it. Non-Descript Soda still hard to describe as usual. 4.5/5
Event 2 of Marble League 2023: Steeplechase. (Design Credit: Flamigiri)
Buses drove the teams out to the Buzznyan Foothills for the Steeplechase. Reaching the inclines that the teams must race down required slow and cautious driving. If many athletes were getting bored, there was one exception: Team Plasma’s Ghosto, fidgeting with a contraption topped off by a weather vane.
“Excuse me, but… what is that thing and why is it beeping?” asked Yellim from the seat behind.
“I’m tracking the weather,” said Ghosto without turning around. “A heavy wind warning is in effect with a high-pressure system accelerating downwards. They told me to capture some live measurements.”
“Ghosto has several relatives who are weathermarbles, so we trust their judgment and let them study it,” explained Gloomo. “I think we all need to prepare for poor racing conditions.”
The buses soon grew loud with teammates’ chattering and planning, but the scene at the track was even more frantic. Gusts of wind kept whipping off the hurdle poles, with Buzznyan stewards sprinting around to hold them in place. The sand on the tracks was dry, while the pebbles on it swirled back and forth.
Every team was huddling and sketching plans now, though Team Plasma had the privilege of also hearing Ghosto’s live forecasts. “We just have to stick together and follow my lead,” said Captain Fearo. “Bad weather does not mean danger. It does not mean disaster. It means we have to get smart.”
For the first time since 2016, the Rojo Rollers stood on a Marble League podium together as a team. They were joined by Team Plasma, whose gold harkened back to their dominance in the 2022 Showdown, and the Crazy Cat’s Eyes, exhilarated to have received their second medal in the span of two events. Behind them in fourth were the Gliding Glaciers; who after a tense period of investigation had lost out on the thinnest of margins.
Seeing Alpine and Glide smile at each other, waiting out the wind with water and ice cream beneath a nearby shelter, Blue Eye almost couldn’t tell they’d missed out on anything.
“Hope there’s no hard feelings!” Blue Eye called out, having to yell to be heard above the wind. “Your run was very clean.”
“Hey, thanks!” Glide replied, Alpine too busy with their refreshments to speak. “Anything’s an improvement on that Team Pursuit performance.”
“It was a tricky event. Actually, where is the rest of your team?”
Finished with their ice cream, Alpine glanced around them. “I’m not entirely sure. I know that Iceberg left to get some privacy after knowing we wouldn’t podium… and then Frost followed them. And Polar?” Alpine and Glide turned to each other and shared a knowing smirk. “They left to go get more ice cream.”
“So, why are you here alone?” Glide interjected. Blue Eye grimaced. That was something they didn’t want to talk about, but they’d be a hypocrite not to answer.
“Well, the wind’s too strong for us to leave. And right now, my team is with Plasma and the Rojos.”
Alpine and Glide exchanged another look, initially unsure what Blue Eye meant. Then it seemed to click for both of them.
“Oh, you’re avoiding Rojo Tres?” Alpine said. Ashamed to have it put so bluntly, Blue Eye sighed.
“I… yes, that’s true.” Surrounded by thousands of home fans all cheering for them, it had been easy to feel that they hadn’t done anything wrong, no matter the conclusion reached by the officials. They had never truly apologized. “I don’t think they’ll be happy to see me around, so…”
“Have you spoken to them?” Alpine asked.
“Not really.” Blue Eye admitted.
“Well, you should,” Alpine added. “Communication is key to resolving conflicts– that’s what Glide says.”
“And if they don’t want to talk?”
“Then they don’t. But the first step is giving it a go!” Glide chimed in.
Team Plasma, the Rojo Rollers and the Crazy Cat’s Eyes on the podium for Steeplechase. (Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)
Back on top of the hill, Blue Eye found their team still amongst the podium-sitters. Steeling their nerves, they ducked past Red Eye’s eyeline to approach Rojo Tres, who was sitting satisfied with their silver medal.
“Hey, um… Do you want to talk?” Blue Eye asked, averting their gaze.
Tres blinked at them, surprised. “About what?”
“About the Triathlon.” Blue Eye sighed. “And how… How I’m really sorry for what I did.”
Tres sat on the sentiment for a moment. Arriving so late, Blue Eye was prepared for them to turn it down. Then they smiled, expression gentle.
“Okay,” they said. “I forgive you. You could have said it slightly earlier, but I’ll take it.”
Sheepish, Blue Eye breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
“I’m just glad you could get through a sand event without pushing someone else into the banking.” They laughed. Blue Eye didn’t laugh along, but they were happy to only be receiving some gentle ribbing.
Maybe Alpine was right, they thought.
In due time, the wind died down in the Foothills. The buses were given the all-clear to drive back down, and this time the Plasma athletes sat next to the Rojo Rollers.
“Wow, we haven’t had a chance to chat since the Pond last year!” exclaimed Rojo Dos. “But what a great run you all had. It’s a well-deserved gold.”
“It was awesome to be on the podium with you,” said Ecto. “Just how hard was it for your team to adapt to the weather? We had to think a lot on the fly.”
“Nothing is easy in sports, you know? But even if we hadn’t qualified for the big stage, we kept training for events like these,” said Rojo Tres. “We’d practiced in the sand with Red Number 3 for years! The legend themself! It’s just with them falling on some hard times, we’ve been out of touch with Red for a while.”
“What a coincidence, it’s the same story with us,” said Fearo. “Starting out in sports, we had days every week going down the sand dunes with Ghost Plasma… I can’t say those were my favorite moments. It’s complicated– ”
“What do you mean, it’s complicated!” laughed Rojo Dos. “If we have the same training routine, and we’re both the best at sand rallies, I should ask you why we aren’t friends yet!”
The Rojo Rollers didn’t ask about Ghost Plasma. Instead, they talked about how Team Plasma had to visit Numerun after the League, because the Rojos can pull their connections and let them race down the legendary Colina Umerun.
As Ghosto would whisper to Fearo after the teams said their goodbyes: “Maybe nobody here cares about our past. They just know we’re the team to beat now.”
Team Plasma race down the Steeplechase course to win the gold medal. (Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)
Em sits in the corner of their room amidst a flurry of empty crisp packets and chocolate bar wrappers. They lift a beanbag chair, revealing a single silver coin underneath.
“I knew it!” they exclaim, adding the coin to the small pile on the floor. “Just enough money for a ticket!”
“I don’t want to be a downer, Em, but that’s just for one event,” Saffy says, perched on the bed. “That’s not really a lot of time to get autographs.”
Em looks at their blue-hued friend. “Sixteen? There are 32 teams in the League, remember?”
“You want signatures from the SHOWDOWN teams, too?”
“Of course! They’re just as important!”
Saffy lets out a quiet sigh. “I know, I know, you’ve said that a hundred times, but you still only have enough money for one event.”
“I’ll sneak in if I have to! Plus, I’ve already written letters to a bunch of the teams!”
“Have any of them actually responded?”
“…No, but it’s only been a few days. I’m sure they’ll respond soon!”
Saffy rubs their eyes, exhausted by Em’s endless optimism. “Good luck with that, I guess. But do you really think you’ll do it?”
Em becomes quiet for a moment, glancing at a picture, dust gathered in its frame, sitting on the dresser.
Event 1 of Marble League 2023: Honeycomb Team Pursuit. (Design Credit: Flamigiri)
Superhive Stadium was abuzz after the first event of the 2023 Marble League season. Team Pursuit only ended a few minutes ago, but officials were already moving to disassemble the white plastic structure that gleamed under the floodlights. Lingering fans excitedly discussed the event from up in the stands, and athletes cooled down deeper in the facilities. But on the edge of the stadium were gold medalists the Crazy Cat’s Eyes, squished together on a metal bench with an interviewer before them.
“It’s great to have you here today,” the interviewer said into their microphone with a smile. “Do you have anything you want to say before we start?”
“We’re honored to be the first medalists of the season. I hope you all had as much fun watching the event as we did participating,” Red Eye said, pride in their voice.
“Your performance today was impeccable, with your team earning times much faster than the rest of the field,” the interviewer began. “You had two non-finishers, but still came out on top despite that. What was your strategy for this event?” They tipped their microphone toward the athletes.
“Gravitrax plays to our strengths, so we knew if we gave it everything we had on all our runs we’d get a good result,” Yellow Eye said, leaning forward.
“When you’re going that fast, you don’t have time to correct any mistakes you make, which is why we had DNFs,” Green Eye said. “All the pieces came together in the final.”
“Spectators have been drawing parallels between today’s event and your Rafting run from last year’s Marble League,” the interviewer said, tilting their mic back toward themself. “Do you have any comments?”
“We were trying to make the best of a bad situation,” Yellow Eye began. “Today was intentional.”
“A calculated risk,” Red Eye added.
“You two have been more used to high speeds as of late,” the interviewer remarked to Blue Eye and Red Eye.
“I guess you could say that,” Blue Eye said slowly. “I don’t know how much it has to do with Marbula One, though. M1 track and Gravitrax are pretty different.”
A confused expression formed on the interviewer’s face. “I suppose that’s true.” After a moment’s pause, they continued, “Well, thank you for spending time with us today. Do you have anything you want to say to your fans?”
From a nearby section of grandstands, a group of young marbles squealed as they pressed against the barrier to get a better look. Their expressions were bright, stars in their eyes.
Red Eye grinned, turning back to the interviewer. “We’re gonna show everyone what we’re made of, just you wait.”
Finding somewhere in Buzznya tranquil enough to relax had been trying, but Wespy had managed it eventually. Overlooking the west of the city, its quiet residential district and streetlamp sunsets, sat a hill so steep and insurmountable that even the locals rarely climbed it. None of the opening celebrations had made it there, the noise of thousands of attendees which had followed them from the stadium to the city no more than a blip in the soundscape.
Reaching the top had required an arduous climb up an uncleared path of wildflowers and grasses, the sort that Coach Wyspy would no doubt have implored them not to make. But there was no coach here. There was nobody but Wespy themselves.
That was their assumption, at least. So high up and so far away, being alone was supposed to be a guarantee. So it surprised them to see Wispy settle wordlessly beside them, having silently ascended the trail themselves.
“How did you know I’d be here?” Wespy asked. A small part of them was frustrated at having their solitude interrupted, but they’d always welcome a teammate by their side.
“You said you wanted an early night, but you weren’t actually heading toward the village.” Wispy mused, sounding like a detective in an old noir.
“Yeah, but this place specifically.”
“Hmm. The view is great, it’s isolated…and you’re not really allowed to be here.”
Wespy had to bite back a laugh. Taking the bright-orange warning signs about fall risks as mere suggestions was certainly in-character. “Touché. But the same applies to you.”
“True.” Wispy sighed. “But if you won’t tell, I won’t.”
Wespy was already ahead of them on that. “Won’t say a word.” Having nothing to toast to their promise with, Wespy rolled gently into Wispy, who did the same.
“But if you want to know, I didn’t come all the way up here just to follow you.” Suddenly, Wispy looked a lot more serious. “A journalist kept asking if I was upset that our first League medal since 2020 came right after I quit the captaincy.”
“Oh.” Wespy hadn’t thought of the medal in those terms, but how could others not? It was a self-evident fact, after all. “They weren’t harassing you, were they?”
Wispy laughed shallowly. “Not after Waspy scared them away.”
“Well, if someone asks you that again, tell me, and I’ll shut it down.”
“I was fine. I suppose it’s a legitimate question, isn’t it?”
Wespy frowned and turned to Wispy, their gaze fixed on the dark sky and the few stars that weren’t blotted out by the city lights. “Maybe, but can’t they tell it’s an invasive thing to ask?”
“Sure. Their job is to be provocative.”
Despite how calm Wispy seemed, Wespy couldn’t accept that as an answer. “But they don’t know what you’ve been through.”
“They don’t. I chose to keep my time in therapy secret, after all.” Wispy sighed. “But I said publicly that I’d always be thankful for you taking the position. If marbles decide I’m secretly jealous or resentful, that’s their choice. It doesn’t change reality.”
Wespy turned back to the sky. As far away as they were, their eyes were still drawn to Superhive Stadium, a glowing dot amongst the swarming yellow lights. “And that reality is…?” they asked.
“That I’m behind Captain Wespy every step of the way.”
The Crazy Cat’s Eyes, Savage Speeders and Midnight Wisps atop the podium for Team Pursuit. (Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)
Needless to say, the first event of the 2023 Marble League did not go to plan for the Snowballs. As fast out of the gate as they were in the qualifiers, their high-speed strategy had collapsed with Snowdrift exiting the track and Snowstorm stalling, failing to finish along with Snowfall and Snowy.
Disappointing was an understatement. After fighting so hard for the team’s first qualification in years, they’d lost out in the first event for being too fast, even when the same strategy had worked out for the event’s uncontested winners. The Crazy Cat’s Eyes had never had to watch another year’s hope vanish down the drain or face the looming threat of relegation in the Showdown.
It wasn’t going to do them any good to build resentment; Snowy knew that. They’d flown too close to the sun and that was the end of things. And yet-
“Cap? I know you probably don’t want to see me right now, but I got you some coffee.”
Snowdrift’s voice broke them out of their thoughts. They looked around and found the fellow Snowball behind them, a steaming-hot mug of black coffee in their possession. Expression apologetic, they passed it over to their captain with a wistful sigh.
Snowy blinked down at the off-black surface, dotted with bubbles of burnished brown, like stars hanging in the night sky. Just barely, they could see their own reflection.
“I wish I could do more to apologize.” Snowdrift confessed. “My coordination wasn’t good enough. I let you – us – down.”
They breathed in the fragrant scent; took a long, deep sip. It was warm and comforting, something Snowdrift had truly put their best into. Snowy closed their eyes and focused on the taste.
“Don’t blame yourself. I’m just glad you weren’t hurt,” they said. “And despite everything… I’m so, so happy to be back.”
The Snowballs appear in the opening ceremony for Marble League 2023, their first appearance in the main league since 2018. (Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)
Three young marbles, Ruu, Saffy, and Em, sit in the old nook behind the elm tree in the park, chattering excitedly amongst themselves.
“Ruzzy signed my art!” Ruu chirps. “This is the best day of my life!” The drawing in question is a crayon scribble of an unusually buff Raspberry Racer punching a hurdle, shattering it, with tons of inexplicable explosions in the background. Along with their name, Ruzzy had also written ‘YEAHHHHHHHHHH!’
“That’s awesome, Ruu!” Saffy replies, before turning to the third of the posse. “I’m sorry you couldn’t make the autograph thingy, Em. I know how much you wanted to come. Which team are you cheering for, anyways?”
“Saffy! You know I love all the teams!” Em says indignantly. “And I’ll get their autographs anyways, you’ll see!”
Ruu scoffs. “You can’t cheer for every team! That’s cheating! You have to choose a favorite!”
“And they haven’t scheduled any more signing days,” Saffy adds.
“Hmph! You guys suck!” Em huffs. “All the teams are my favorite!”
“You’re weird, Em,” Ruu says. “You can’t have more than one favorite.”
Em stands up, hurt. “Yeah? Well, you’re a meanie! I’ll show you! I’ll get an autograph from all the teams! I will!” They run off, holding back tears.
A moment passes. “Do you think we should go after them?”
I have to do this. For the fans. For my family. For myself.
But do you want to? Why do you feel like you have to prove something?
It doesn’t matter what I want. And I don’t have to prove anything. I just want to make the right choice. And I believe that this is that.
It’s going to take some time. But I’ll feel better. I’ll race better. Without anyone worrying if it’s fair or if I’m “not a marble.” I’ll be free.
And what if it hinders you? It could change the way you race forever and for no reason. You proved you don’t have a material advantage.
It’s not enough. I just want it to be enough. All I want to do is race. Not fend off rumors. Not get chased by the press. Not feel like I’m who I never wanted to be.
It’s going to be enough.
Red Number 3, two-time Marble Rally champion, ended their Season 6 performance in last place overall without finishing the final race. (Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)
“You need to stop being so hard on yourself. Everyone keeps saying that.”
“And what good is that going to do? Everyone keeps telling me, ‘Stop caring about it. You did the best you could.’ Except I didn’t. This is the worst I’ve raced since I was a kid.”
“No one thinks that but you.”
“And that’s what’s wrong! No one sees this the way I do. I failed myself. I failed my family. I failed my fans.”
“You don’t always win in sports. Some days you’re successful, and other days you aren’t. Sports aren’t about failure. And neither is your life.”
“How do you know that, Blue?”
Perched atop Dopersduin Bregtdorp, Red Number 3 sobbed, letting tears stain their old “Legend” hoodie as Blue Number 2 sifted through their satchel and pulled out a thick manila envelope. They held the envelope out to their sibling. “Take one.”
Red sniffled, wiping away their tears before they reached into the envelope, pulling out a photograph they remembered all too well of their Marble Rally 2018 championship.
Red Number 3 celebrates their Marble Rally 2018 championship with family. (Design Credit: MSPN)
“Yeah. Pretty much the best thing ever. Too bad I couldn’t do that this year,” Red scoffed, shoving the Polaroid back into the envelope.
“Red, your life has been defined by success. But what if you defined yourself by something else? And not by something you’re chasing?”
“I don’t know how to be happy. And before you say last season I was fine, it’s because I was. I still won a race. And I got to see my friends win too. This year, I couldn’t even podium. My friends all got a moment that I couldn’t relate to. And the fans acted like I’ve been terrible for my entire career. I didn’t do enough. How can I be happy about making the right choice when it’s leading to the implosion of everything I have built?”
Blue Number 2 didn’t know how to respond, looking at Red Number 3 blankly. Moments later, Red pulled off their sweatshirt, tossing it into the branches of the tree behind them as they pushed off, barrelling down a short sprint of track outlining a stout sandy hill. Ignoring the sharp hairpin before the dirt, Red sped over the wall and beached, letting out a deep, shaky sigh as they rested.
A series of fast-paced breaths of frustration slowed as Red looked up at the sky, watching a comet streak toward the mountains. They remembered a discussion with the marble of the same name during Season 5.
“It’s nice that we’ve been able to race this season. And I think everyone deserves that enjoyment no matter who wins,” Red Number 3 said. “After all, it won’t be me this season.”
Comet rolled backward, nearly slipping down the stairs at SnowWorld. “You really think that? You’re better than all of us here. You’re probably the reason we are here.”
Red laughed. “Everything I’ve accomplished does not make me better than all of you. And you know the reason we’re here. It’s you.”
A few minutes later, the starting gate lifted, and Red Number 3 careened off the course not even three seconds into the race. Comet, racing just behind Red before they went out of bounds, darted around Summer Sky to take the lead. They would lose Race 8 to Blizzard Blaster, who proudly earned the gold in their “home race.”
Comet streaks ahead as Red Number 3 DNFs during their second race at SnowWorld. (Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)
Meeting with Comet after the race, Red Number 3 posed for a picture taken by Blue Number 2, reportedly shrugging after the camera flash. With a silver medal draped around themself, Comet was beaming with pride.
“Yeah. That felt about as good as I remember.”
Red Number 3 looked back towards Dopersduin Bregtdorp, remembering their first race on a course used for sand rallies in the shadows of Numerun’s Pico de Manatial. Their shocking success during a Surculo trial run led to their move to Numerun to train for their professional sports debut in the same league, where Red rose to local, then international stardom. The choices to leave their family behind in Bifornya, quit their career in sports medicine, and follow their dreams brought immediate success but constant uncertainty when each starting gate got lifted.
Blue Number 2 continued sifting through old photographs as Red ascended the hill, nonchalantly approaching their sibling. “You feeling better?” they asked Red.
“No. I made the hard call, and what is my reward? The collapse of my career, the destruction of my legacy, and humiliation in front of my friends. The name “Red Number 3” once meant something – Excellence, Champion, Victory. But what now? What is the point of racing if I can no longer roll among giants? I feel my life spiraling out of control and can’t help but feel it is all my fault.”
Those last few words caught in Red’s throat as slow, silent tears once again rolled down their sand-coated exterior. “Have I been consumed by the need to win? Has my passion for racing burnt out?”
Silence hung in the air as Blue stared at their oldest and closest friend, wondering how to rescue their sibling trapped in a maelstrom of doubt and despair. Without thinking, Blue rolled to their sibling, embracing them as hard as they could, their tears mixing with Red’s as they joined their sibling in the ocean of uncertainty.
After what seemed like an eternity, the two siblings let go of each other and lay down, staring up into the vast sky above them. Red and Blue sat silently, drifting together as the skies changed from deep blue to burnt orange before the inky blackness of night swept in, pushed back by thousands of twinkling stars.
(Art Credit: Phoenix)
“I know you don’t see it yet, but you will get through this, and I’m here for you every step of the journey, no matter where it goes or what it takes,” whispered Blue. Red continued to stare into the deep darkness of space as the winds of an uncertain future blew around them.
In the reflection of Red’s glassy eyes, Blue saw the streak of another comet, this time exiting the mountain range and falling behind the hill on the horizon. In such a short moment, Blue whipped out their camera, set focus, and took a magnificent shot, perfectly capturing the pin-prick of light on its journey through an ocean of darkness.
When Blue turned back to Red, they could sense something was different. “Let’s go home,” whispered Red as they rolled forward into the darkness of night.
Five days after the end of Marble Rally Season 6, one marble remained close to the course, camping out in the same thick grass they had nestled into when the six championship contenders had gathered at the bottom of Dopersduin Bregtdorp for a landscape portrait. Given the excitement around the final race, the striped celebrity understood all too well why they hadn’t been found before or after the event, even as the fans and press swarmed the finish line with excitement. Although they had briefly left their position to wave next to the speed boost, Roldo had quickly been spotted and returned to their original, undiscovered, hiding spot by the start of the race.
Quietly opening their knapsack, Roldo sipped their water and nibbled on an energy bar, one of many that they kept stocked in the densely packed bag. With enough rations to last nearly a month, no marble was better prepared for their duty than Roldo: given a general hiding area, remain in a specific spot until discovered. Officials working with JMR swore themselves to secrecy regarding their exact process, disclosing that they could not communicate with Roldo once they were “lost,” until they were “found.”
This time, Roldo was permitted two simultaneous objectives: one for “The Best Racer” illustration and one for the final race. With one objective completed, Roldo remained dedicated to the other for as long as it would take.
Roldo’s hiding spot during Race 10 of Marble Rally Season 6. (Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)
In times like these, Roldo often remembered past press interviews they had done with fans, reassessing questions and answers as their career progressed over the years. One interviewer, ScoopBoy, had asked Roldo, “Have any fans ever harassed you for being lucky?”
“Not at all!” Roldo had responded. “That was one of my biggest worries when coming into this position, but I should have known better. The Marble League and all other marble events have the best fans around and all anybody has ever done is congratulate me. It is extremely humbling and I hope to be an inspiration to other fans, showing that anyone can become famous!”
Roldo smiled. Memories like this were the best reminders of how lucky Roldo was to be lost – because when they got found, there was no greater euphoria that Roldo could feel. And so, they would continue to wait for that perfect moment.
“You’re still here? It’s over,” a voice said.
Roldo jumped in excitement, swiftly turning around to greet their seeker. They were met with a sullen, expressionless marble, one donning a sharp lime-green uniform outlined with black streaks. “Why hello! It’s not often an athlete is the first to find me!”
Cobra sighed. “Not like I have much else to do. I’ve been camping out in Kleirun Pass throughout the week. Lots of snakes there. So I circled back to see if there were any in the thickets along the track.”
“Well, that’s just lovely! Now if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere to be! Might you know when the closest plane to Rubow departs?”
“Not a clue. Sorry. Seems like you’re in a hurry. Glad I could help you out.”
But Roldo had already vanished – Cobra assumed, in the direction of Nijellen. With nowhere to be, they continued scanning along the track, scaling the hill toward the summit. Recalling a bench overlooking the view from atop, Cobra thought they would rest there, take in the view, and cook a dinner to enjoy.
A park bench overlooks Dopersduin Bregtdorp as a marble races toward its peak. (Art Credit: Phoenix)
It was to their surprise to find that they would not be alone when they reached the peak – none other than Roldo had made it there first. “What are you doing here?” the Marble Rally athlete asked.
“You know, I did leave at first. But I aim to support athletes like you…so…Here I am. Finding you, in need of help.”
“I don’t need help. At least, not help that I can’t give myself.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well…I’m used to fending for myself like this. I always have,” explained Cobra. “Not sure if you’ve ever been to Chi, but it’s like Lewara used to be. A village where marbles are isolated and have to be self-sustainable. Where we’re trained not to trust anyone.
So why should I trust you?”
“Because I…” Roldo trailed off, knowing they wanted to help Cobra – but was that a good enough reason for Cobra to trust them? “I…don’t know.”
“That’s right. You don’t know. And you’ll never understand how I feel. Like everyone thinks I don’t deserve to compete here, like they’re afraid of me because I refuse to open myself up to anyone, like I’m invisible. And how it’s funny because I question all of those things too. Do I deserve to compete here when I’ve never finished in the top half of any tournament? Why should anyone bother to see me as I am when I can’t even see why I’m here!”
Cobra kicked in frustration, sending grains of sand up into the air and over the view of Dopersduin Bregtdorp. Then, their voice shook as they exhaled, frowning.
“Because I know what it’s like to feel invisible.”
Cobra slowly rolled to the bench, collapsing into the seat with all of their pent-up frustration. They glared at Roldo, waiting for another punchline.
“The worst thing about feeling invisible is feeling lost like no one understands you. In all of the experiences I’ve had with fans, they seldom understand how I can be so optimistic. The truth is that I’ve trained myself to see the world through eyes of rose, even when it feels like no one sees things the same way.
The best thing about feeling invisible is that marbles will never see you coming. I’ve dedicated my entire career to the element of surprise, but that would’ve been impossible if I didn’t notice your fellow athletes doing the same. Comet’s success in the 500-Foot Race was a come-from-behind victory, one that transformed the sports landscape as we know it. By the time other athletes in that race realized it, wasn’t it too late?”
Cobra finishes the 500-Foot Race 4 seconds behind its victor, Comet. (Photo Credit: Jelle’s Marble Runs)
“I remember Deep Ocean wheezing behind me, wishing they hadn’t taken the lead so early,” recalled Cobra. “I was never in contention that race.”
“Aren’t you always in contention during a race? From the starting gate getting lifted to a marble crossing the finish line before you?”
Cobra shrugged. “I usually count myself out before we line up.”
“Why? Why even race, then?”
“Because I have nothing else going for me that I enjoy doing, even if I suck at it. The fact that I can qualify every year and perform – if I was a stand-up comedian and no one bought tickets, I would have to cancel all of my gigs.”
“But you only say you underperform because that’s ingrained in you. What if things were different? What if you could surprise everyone and be awesome?”
Cobra fell silent, lightly kicking the sand they had launched from the summit minutes before. “You’re the first fan I know who hasn’t given up on me.”
Roldo laughed. “I don’t know how to quit. Maybe it’s why I’m so good at this job. Perhaps too good.”
Cobra chuckled. “Well, I don’t want to rattle your busy schedule. You should get to Rubow.”
Roldo laughed again.
“Ha. I was never a comedian. That’s why I’m an athlete. If I can see that, maybe others can, too.”
“You can. And if you ever feel lost like this again, you’ll find me.”
Cobra smiled for the first time that night, thanking Roldo as they parted ways, vanishing. As Cobra relaxed on the bench, they almost thought they could see a silhouette of a marble zooming down the course below. When they looked again, a sleeping dark green cobra had coiled itself between the hairpins of Sector 1, but the chevron in Sector 2 was still spinning…
Special thanks to ScoopBoy, author of “Where’s Roldo? There’s Roldo!” released for The Rollout in 2020.
A rush of wind strikes, as sudden as the echo of a twig snap that parodies the starting pistol. The sun has sunk to be barely visible, but it’s the sudden cold that jerks me from my dream-like state. I’ve never been one for creativity, really, but I don’t think that dreaming is necessarily a creative thing, despite what teachers used to say. After all, isn’t a goal just a dream that you try to turn into reality? And that’s precisely what I’m doing, rolling down this stretch of hill, chasing my dreams. Putting all the effort in the world in, bracing myself against the bitter cold that’s beginning to set in with the dusk of a long day. Everyone knows what being the best is, and yet no one seems to know what reaching it looks like. Catching my breath at the bottom, I look up at the terrain that now towers over me, majestic and unmoving. I may be small, but not long ago, I was at the top of that. And I could see the world. If anything, this hill vastly symbolizes the journey I must embark on, the angle of looking up what seems like a mountain, to reach those at the top. But this is the path I have chosen for myself, and I will be up there with them some way or another. Lost in thoughts, I begin to make my way back home, barely noticing the opening of the sky to rain that softly falls. Soon enough, I am face to face with constant reminders of who I am and how far I have yet to go, reflected in the puddles I pass.
The tears of the sky are a certainty, the pain and suffering of the world etched into every raindrop that hurtles down from above at terrifying speeds that one never thinks about for they are so small and so many. Thousands would not describe the amount, but each raindrop that is part of the larger rain is just as forgotten as the next. They distort the world as they fall, and yet the time is brief before they hit the ground and become nothing. I watch the rain through a window, oblivious to the crescendo of the kettle’s whistle behind me. It’s been a long time since the days I would race down hills with all the determination of a champion, but the dream was not yet lost. And as I stationed myself in the shadow of the night, I grew jealous of the rain that could fall so freely and so fast. Oh to be as speedy as rain, to be able to travel with such knowledge and might. And yet being as insignificant as a raindrop would never get you anywhere. I spin around to face my living room, boxes stacked up precariously around the space, symbols of the next chapter in my life, the journey’s continuation into a large city where I can hope and train for my dream to become reality. Tomorrow. But for now, a coffee awaits.
The pandemonium of the city seems far away as I remain stationary on the sidewalk, oblivious to the hubbub of passing vehicles and marbles all around me. The cascading rain is invisible and meaningless, splashing above me and soaking me entirely, but I do not notice. My thoughts are far away, in an excited mess that I am now one step closer to the dreams I’ve had ever since I was a young marble. The speed at which I joyfully departed the stadium after signing a contract with the coach there was parallel only to the speeds at which I hope to one day achieve in competition. This was it, the beginning of my story. And yet, as I hesitated in exhilaration, a sudden pang of deep pain and grief struck me as I remembered that those I wanted to share it with were no longer here. The future was to be a battle that I must face alone, but I knew that the stars would guide me and keep me company, and my first step was getting out of the rain.
The silence echoes, memories of the recent calamity of noises that met this garden. The stars above twinkle softly, and I watch them for a while. The towering trees that surround me remain unmoved by the change of atmosphere, and they watch me silently and supportively, just like the trees back home when I lost my parents. I had run off into the night to sit in solitude in a park just like this one, alone yet with the company of the stars. I had been sad then, but now I was ecstatic, floating on the excitement of my first-ever win and the momentous party that had followed it. Glaring and flickering lights in a vast array of joyful colors, music that swirled through the air at great volume, and so many marbles partying and having a good time in celebration. It seemed like only yesterday I had started my official training, and yet it was a good while ago by now. I have grown so much in both physical and mental strength, and I feel unstoppable. This is what I was born to do, and everyone knew it. A soft breeze rustles the nearby bushes and I lower my gaze to my silent and still surroundings. The party had ended not long ago, it was amazing how quickly everything could change.
Shouts of joy fill the stadium, and our coach seems to be somewhere between laughing and crying. Friends of mine roll around in pure happiness, racing each other to an unheard start. My heart feels light, and I gleefully roll to meet them. We’ve done it, we’ve successfully been selected for a major competition, and success from here will undoubtedly lead us to the very top of all marble sports. Hours and years of dedicated training, sweat, and tears pay off for our unrestrained elation. A massive cake appears from nowhere, and a party hat seemingly materializes on my head. The stadium speakers erupt in a sudden announcement, though the seats are empty and only my team, the coach, and the manager are here to hear it. Music starts blasting and I laugh and join my friends in another lap around to celebrate. Here’s to the future!
Powerful lights blind me, and for a moment I wonder if I had fallen asleep at another celebratory party, or am at the stadium. But these aren’t colorful lights, flashing around me with shouting and singing. They are horrible, fluorescent white lights, and I am lying down. And I begin to notice, I am in a great deal of pain. The sounds of beeping and distant movements distract me greatly as I try desperately to think back, but my memory is clouded, and I don’t know what happened. All I know is that I can barely move, and I have never felt more alone and confused.
Once upon a time, I raced up and down the nearby hills. I had sat down on this very park bench to cry about my parents and had spent many a time gazing up at the sky, watching the faraway stars flickering gently in the distance, reminding me that I was not alone. But here I am, back at home once more. A sinking feeling weighing me down at every second that I painfully remember all my dreams. And how they had collapsed suddenly in one moment, the moment in which I was told I could never compete again. The pain from my injury is still severe, but nothing could match the pain and anguish as I recall my ambitions and desperation to become a world-class marble athlete. My aspirations feel so far away, the younger me racing down the hill is merely a ghost from a life I will never live again. I hear the promise I made to myself long ago, whispered in the wind. The promise of greatness, of never giving up, of reaching those at the top. But that was long ago. It was horrible how quickly everything could change.
(Art Credit: Phoenix)
I shiver in excitement, crouched neatly in my hiding place. The sounds of thousands of marbles rolling around surround me and I quickly stifle a laugh, for I need to stay as still and silent as possible. Each time I do this feels just as exhilarating as the first, and I can hardly believe that I am here, where I had always longed to be. Since the agreement, I have taken my task entirely seriously and provide entertainment to many, just by being here, in prime spots to spectate the sports that I had once dreamed of participating in. And yet, in a way, I have fulfilled my promise. While my past injury prevents me from competing, I have finally made my way to those at the top and made peace with my role within marble sports. I will never be where I had wanted to be, but sometimes winning doesn’t mean taking gold. There isn’t always a happy ending, but I’ve taken mine and made it the happiest I can. Because I am Roldo, and I have finally found myself. Now it’s your turn.
Project Marblearth 