Gelatin was out and about, wandering the desolate streets of Yoyle City.
Getting out of that Weak Trembling Fortress was an easy enough job; the name alone tells all you need to know about the security and strength and of its containment. As long as you showed up in the few times an eliminated contestant was sent hurtling towards it, one of the few times anyone actually bothers to check up on the place, he was most likely gonna be fine. The hard part was actually finding *something* to do in miserable Yoyleland upon managing to escape. Rocky had a single gimmick whose novelty wore off rather quickly, Firey was keen on increasing his chances of rejoining- still itching to win *something* after the events of the previous season -and so was playing it safe, and apparently everyone else had vacated the place they declared to be their new home so quickly after they'd arrived. The only fun to be had for Gelatin was whatever amusement he could come up with from his imagination, wherever his thoughts on those abandoned buildings, ruined landmarks, and whatever else happened to be strewn about could take him.
It was easy enough to keep himself entertained at first; his disposition made him easily excited over every little bit and detail, and the sense of overwhelming freedom after realizing he could just squeeze through that fragile prison gave him a rush that felt like it was gonna last forever. He spent quite a while just running laps around the city streets, visiting all the major places that looked cool, and studying whatever he could get his hands on in some half-hearted effort to uncover the mysteries of just what went down here (but if 2,763 years of investigations couldn't figure it out, neither could he). But the novelty of getting a city-sized playground all to yourself, just like most things in life, started to drain away; it was gradual at first, but made itself more and more present with each and every reminder that he was indeed all alone in this desolate land.
Still, Gelatin tried his best to make the most out of his liberation; his focus on fretting over the Battle for Dream Island had left his business ventures in a state of disarray, and so maybe he could find some value in propping that back up. He'd search the city from top to bottom (in his words, anyway), looking for whatever supplies he could carry to rebuild and revive his Steakhouse. Shadeshouse. *Something*house. But all those escapades only further cemented what he already knew: anything worth *anything* that wasn't bolted down had already been taken long, long ago. Though he'd continue his efforts regardless, he knew deep in his heart that he was only delaying the inevitable; there just wasn't any hope in these lands, and there hadn't been for quite some time. Perhaps ever.
But being a quitter isn't something in Gelly's vocabulary. He was the prodigy that created a food empire out of nothing! If he could do that, surely he can get *something* out of this dead market, right?
Right?
-
Gelatin didn't really like the prospect of being in the city at night.
Despite being more than free to set up camp in an abandoned apartment and make it feel cozy, he always ended up wandering back to that Weak Trembling Fortress at the slightest hint of sunset and spending the evening hours goofing off with Firey. It wasn't because he was a child that believed in silly stories of monsters lurking in the night; enough Battling for Dream Island will tell you where the true ones lie. Yoyle City just feels... *different* at night. The lights have been off for forever, so you can hardly see your way around. You've got no idea where your next step could take you; there's been more than a few instances where he'd accidentally stepped on something sharp and promptly broke down for several minutes over how painful it was. It was hard to find your way around the dilapidated buildings, where it was somehow even *more* dark. What little appeal the city had for any rational person was just completely gone when you took the literal light out of it.
