Alternate Battle for Dream Island

ABFDIA 15a: Lots of Visitors

The walk back to the base was long and exhausting. It was *especially* worsened as Tennis Ball knew that there was someone (a few of them, actually) following close behind.

One of the things that Golf Ball had repeatedly ingrained into his mind over the course of their... *work*, is the fact that loneliness and isolation are not just preferred parts of the job description, but also *essential*. Living beings naturally take the path of least resistance; they want to commit as little time and energy as possible into the things that they do, focusing only on activities that don't ask much of them but provide what they need, such as food or entertainment or whatever. Since most of what they do typically involves the gathering of those resources, that makes complete sense. They do these things because they want to feel relaxed and safe at the end of it all; if they end up expending just as much energy as the energy they've acquired in the form of food or water or some other form of sustenance, if they end up being exhausted at the end of it all, then it just isn't pleasant. They may still get to live for another day, but they're not gonna be all too happy about it. As such, countless years of evolution (presumably; it's a bit hard to assess the growth and history of walking, talking objects) have resulted in the development of the most efficient habits possible, things that are low-cost and high-reward.

Going through the scientific method is, as countless experiments have taught them, a *very* tiring endeavor. They've managed to acquire important, pertinent knowledge that has made their lives *significantly* easier, but that comes at the cost of having to endure 2,763 failures, give or take. That's a *lot* of effort that they've had to endure, effort that most of the contestants of the Battle for Dream Island *simply* couldn't give. As a result, while numbers *theoretically* would provide them an advantage, in practice it was basically just asking for trouble. And that isn't even getting into the trouble that is forming an emotional bond with these... *creatures*. The less that is said about that nightmare, the better. According to Golf Ball, anyhow.

Having been in the field for *far* less time than GB has, he's constantly been trying to advocate for the opposite viewpoint. Befriending and understanding others is a hassle, sure, but *surely* it's on the same level as conducting research over and over again until you find something useful. However, try as he might to reject it, he couldn't help but find some sense in her words. Having now seen the worst of people, having had to deal with a whole bunch of competing and bickering others, and now becoming more and more separate from the one and only person that he's found common ground in... It's taken an immense toll on him. Sometimes, it makes him wish that he just took her advice to heart, that he became just as much of an emotionless monolith as she had become.

It sure *looked* like it was easier for her.

Tennis Ball and the others eventually arrived at the entrance; he turned to Pin and all the others, then looked all around to make sure they hadn't picked up any unwanted followers. "I'll go in first. *Alone*." He'd explain. "I'll talk to her, explain what's going on, and try to ease her into it. I'll come back later and tell you if that went well." The pushpin simply gave a thumbs-up in response, figuring that it was best to be silent; Coiny didn't seem to care, however. "We have to wait around here? *Boring*." Taco looked at him, scoffing. "You were already doing that back at the cabin; what makes this any different?" There'd be a moment of angry arguing before the thumbtack put an end to that nonsense.

TB sighed and made his way inside, down the steps and through the door. He half-expected Golf Ball to no longer be there, having used all that time alone to get as far away as possible from all of... *this*, so that she could continue her work in relative peace. That seemed to be the most logical course of action, considering how much she hated his guts. But much to his surprise, she'd still be sitting there, still hard at work at putting all those metal pieces together.