Just *how* long had Stapy been gone for?
Apparently, it'd been so long that he had almost completely forgotten who he was, what his name was, what object he even is, or what he was doing. But slowly but surely, as consciousness began to seep back into his very being, as the innumerable systems of life that made that inanimate stapler... *not* inanimate kicked back into action, things started making sense. Of course. He was Stapy, the red stapler. He staples stuff. That's his gig. He staples so much stuff that he's developed a sort of habit for it. An addiction. An instinct. Stapler instincts. He's got arms, but no legs. A rather cruel existence, given that he's rather big and bulky. That nature of his also means that he can't really rest comfortably *anywhere* besides somewhere flat, like the vibrant green plains. And that's *really* unfortunate, given that now he spends most of his waking hours sitting on the same school seat as everyone else, a seat that's *definitely* not built to accommodate someone as wide and insulting to nature as he is.
Oh. *Right*.
Stapy was a contestant in the Battle for Battle for Dream Island. *Was*. How he wound up there, how he even knew where to look for such an adventure, is one of those mysteries that will most likely be forever lost to the marching of time. Same thing happened to his origins, really; legend has it that before he wound up here, he was part of this... strange... thing. One where everything was loud, and everyone was miserable. That's all just rumors, speculation, and hearsay, though. Not canon, as the cool and hip kids would say. The sort of thing that Pencil and Match would whisper to themselves and start giggling like they were going mad. Well, they've all gone mad, one way or another.
Well, the sort of thing they'd whisper to each other *if* they were still together.
"Hey, hey, look!" The voice of that writing utensil would be the first thing he'd heard since his long nap. "That sleepyhead's finally waking up!"
"He is?" Another voice rang out; it was from someone more... distant. More far-off. More... *despicable*.
Yet another voice scoffed. "Feels like it's been 2,763 years."
"Aw." Okay, that one's *definitely* familiar.
"I'm jealous, really." Pencil once again remarked. "He was passed out all this time; meanwhile, we've had to do more and more homework."
"Probably won't be that good, actually." Yet *another* voice commented. "He's probably just gonna have to do it all at once."
Stapy grumbled as he returned to his senses, finally mustering up the courage and strength to open his eyes. He *really* didn't want to open them. *Really* didn't. He knew just what exactly he was going back into. He'd gotten *very* familiar with that horrible classroom, with its horrible Eternal Algebra Class, with its horrible teacher, and the horrible students too. There's also that thing when one has *just* woken up and you wind up getting blinded by all the lights. That's just insult to injury, really.
But alas, this was reality. As horrific and nonsensical as it was, it was indeed the real world. This was his situation. This was the hole he had dug himself into. And unless he wanted to climb his way out of it, unless he was willing to wait the very, very, *very* long time it'd take for his component parts to naturally decompose and return him to nothingness, unless he was willing to gamble that that algebralian would even let that happen, he was gonna have to confront it.
Took about a minute or so to get it over with. The EXIT was the same as always, his desk now had a stack of equations to solve, and all eyes were on him as there was finally *somebody* else to talk to. What a miracle.
The attention isn't *that* bad, really. Stapy was the newest of newcomers; there were those that had been stuck inside a metal box for years, only having been let out recently, but they were already in the vicinity *long* before the stapler wound up in this corner of the world. Absolutely no one had any idea on what to expect from him... and that also meant that he had absolutely no idea what to expect from everyone else.
