Alternate Battle for Dream Island

ABFDIA 13b: Catch On

Like most other inconveniences in life, Teardrop eventually grew numb to all the blinding lights and blaring sirens.

In the first few seconds- fine, the first few *minutes*, TD actually thought that *something* was happening. She'd been around plenty of places, knew plenty of things, and immediately picked up that a scene such as this was bad news. She reckoned that finally, *finally*, the forces in play finally realized what she was up to and was now doing all in their power to stop her from continuing to do... whatever. It was only a matter of time, really; if anything, she was *relieved* that the bandage was ripped off now, instead of later.

She quickly ran to the usual meeting spot and gestured at the camera; her motions were a little more frantic this time around, but the better visibility might just even things out. Instead of the usual response of swiveling motions, however... nothing. The camera just remained pointing right at her, her sole lifeline no longer giving out any response in her hour of need.

Figures. Of *course* they were gonna cut that off. How could she be so... careless? She was all on her own again, just like in most other days. Nothing to accompany her but her thoughts, nothing to help her but her actions.

Even with all her exploring, she still didn't have any clue where any security might come from, or how strong they'll be, or how numerous. The logical thing to do is to find some remote corner, make herself comfortable there, and stay still until she can more properly assess the situation. She's a freeform liquid, so that task was quite a bit easier for someone else; the thought of that clumsy Tennis Ball stumbling about comes to mind.

Teardrop rushed through the halls, looking for a suitable hiding spot. There were about 2,763 little nooks and crannies scattered throughout the place, but which one's *actually* safe? Nothing large and nothing comfortable, that's for sure. The bright red lights helped her somewhat with figuring things out, and even illuminated a few places that she didn't even notice on her first pass.

Eventually, she'd find her place of refuge. A singular door was kept shut by an unremarkable lock; one good hit from a nearby piece of furniture, and it was ready to open. After hastily disposing of the evidence, she found... a little closet filled with equipment for the unfortunate soul tasked with cleaning this labyrinth. Whatever. It'll serve the purpose just fine. There was a bucket in the corner, which made her hiding place clear; nobody would be suspicious of a container of liquids doing what it was meant to do. She'd hop in, become familiar with the cramped space, and bide her time.

There was really only one thing in her mind all throughout that time: what took them so long? What distracted this unknown faction or whatever for so long that only *now* did they get to this interloper wandering around their premises? And just *what* exactly did they have in mind? What is this place? Why'd they build it? Why has she been stuck here for

There'd be a low rumble, the place shook, and the bucket fell, spilling its contents.

The place was dark and silent again; just as suddenly as the action arrived, it'd immediately depart, causing much disappointment for everyone and everything. Teardrop took a moment to rest and recuperate, slowly but surely shaping herself back to her ordinary form, and reabsorbing any stray drops that split off during the commotion. She'd pace around the closet for a little while, weighing her options.

What *was* that? Was that the thing the alarms had been warning about this entire time? Was it just something else entirely, that just so happened to intervene at the most unfortunate time? What if it was some group that went in to destroy the place, and they've just succeeded? What if it's *not*? What if it's whoever's running the place dealing with the threat? What if it's neither of those things? What if it's just some fluke of the universe, some strange, one-in-a-million possibility? Considering the circumstances at hand, *all* possibilities had to be given thought.