Life just *sucks*, doesn't it?
For the longest time now, Nickel had that depressing, miserable mindset; it felt like so long ago that he thought that life was gonna be great, that he was gonna be somebody. Childish delusions and fantasies, that's what those were. Here he was, thinking he could strut right into the Battle for Dream Island, proclaim himself to be the new Coiny, and make a name for himself as the *true* coin creature, the one that all the people will actually care about. But the cold slap of reality was quick to knock him off his high horse and bring back the status quo; he'd lose the vote to join the game to some dumb stick figure, and he wouldn't be able to get more than a sentence out before he was unceremoniously ejected and sent straight into that metal box.
The Locker of Losers... *Ugh*. The loss of his opportunity to get some time in the spotlight was already insulting enough; who in their right mind would then imprison them all for *ages* for having the gall to try and compete? That time in isolation, surrounded by his fellow snubbed brethren, though it may have been relatively brief (most of the others weren't so lucky), it was well and truly enough to wipe any trace of a smile off his face. He dared to be anybody *but* an irrelevant background character, and for his insolence he was punished with an even more insulting, more infuriating existence. And that's not even to mention the incident that cost him his arms; the less said about *that*, the better.
And then one day, all of a sudden, he was let out and was graciously allowed to participate in the next Battle for Dream Island. In *theory* that was supposed to be a good thing; he finally got what he wanted after all this time, and he could finally begin ingraining himself into the famous cast of the competition, right? But though the fresh air and warm sunlight *were* great to experience again, the whole thing continued to leave a sour taste in his mouth. The disparity between the veterans and the aspiring newbies was already monumental the first time they got the chance to join, but now? What chance did he have, *really*? How could he *possibly* compete against them for that sought-after screen time and attention, against those that have had *years* to amass their fame and fans? What was the chance that he could even get to *see* Dream Island, let alone win it?
But life eventually did him a few favors.
Just as he was *almost* settled in his fancy team, he'd suddenly be forcibly dragged away from it and would be back on square one. Though the initial impact stung at first, it turned out that switching to W.O.A.H. Bunch would end up being a blessing in disguise. At first he worried about the sheer difference in size between his puny new team and his absolutely massive old one, but then that issue conveniently resolved itself. It also turned out that having fewer people around meant that whoever declared themselves to be the leader would have to cherish them more; they weren't just some nobodies, some pawns, that you could boss around, they were *very* valuable teammates. His fellow W.O.A.H. Bunchers ended up making him feel like he actually belonged, that he was of the same stature of the rest of them, that he could easily take on the world... and have a fighting chance, at least.
And now that the teams are once again all lumped into one? That felt like yet another sign that things were looking up. Sure, he'd once again contend with others for a chance to be in the frontlines. So *what*? Regardless of his late entry into the game, or his lack of arms, or lack of connections, he could very much stand on his own, thank you very much. It also meant that everyone was working towards the same goal for once; being on the same team meant that they couldn't sabotage each other without sabotaging themselves, which guaranteed that he was going to stick around for quite a while.
He might end up losing the season anyway, but who cares? This wasn't the Nickel that boldly declared he'd be the new Coiny anymore; he was his own independent coin creature, with plenty of friends that stuck by his side, and a world so open and full of possibilities that the odds were in his favor that there was *something* for him out there, even if it wasn't some lame island. Things were gonna be great. Things were gonna be *fine*.
