Alternate Battle for Dream Island

ABFDIA 17c: Look Forward

Blocky's Funny Doings International was off in their latest endeavor.

Barf Bag begrudgingly followed Blocky and Eraser as they marched into the endless grassy fields, beginning their long, probably futile search for Golf Ball and her... *friend*. She didn't really know why she was here; every part of her brain was *screaming* at her to stay where she was, to remain at Dream Island while those two got up to whatever shenanigans they wished. But the wooden cube just *kept* on insisting, for whatever reason, and eventually her guilt got the better of her. As much as this team was extremely dysfunctional, as much as they seemingly hated her guts, at the end of the day they were still arbitrarily grouped together. No matter what she did, no matter how many times she swears she didn't have *anything* to do with whatever horrific atrocities these two may or may not have conducted, the Announcer would find some way to punish *all* of them regardless. Eventually, after a bunch of pushing and prodding, she just *had* to give in. After all, they *seriously* insisted on it, going so far as to chase after her and drag her straight to the gate even after her many, *many* refusals. Well, it was *their* call; if they end up becoming annoyed and angry once again due to her mere existence, it's on them. Also, it's probably in her best interest to at least *try* and keep them somewhat restrained, to prevent things from becoming *as* bad as they could be.

Besides, going outside is *probably* good for her, anyway.

They exited the island, and just went on a roughly straight line from there; the odds are likely that they'd just give up and go home in no time at all. It didn't take too long before the island turned into a tiny speck in the distance, then disappeared entirely beyond the horizon. It was just them, their thoughts, and the vast green sea.

Barf Bag had heard of these vast plains once or twice before; she learned from an early age that the purple grass beneath her feet was the outlier, not the norm, and that most of the world was colored more or less like this. She's been itching to go there ever since, to see the sights and all that; she didn't quite expect it to be on *these* terms, however. She didn't expect most of the things she was dealt with in life. One day, things seemed *relatively* normal, then all of a sudden, they were completely turned upside-down. What was right, what was wrong, what was forward, what was back, all that suddenly changed in an instant, without any thought or consideration as to the possible ramifications. She's been barely clinging on ever since, trying to find somewhere to rest her head and enjoy life for even a second. And that's not even getting into the mystery that is the whole vomit thing. Seriously, what's up with *that*? What cruel deity would decide to create a living being that's a container of foul liquids, and taking the aforementioned liquids entails near-certain death? What a sick joke.

Speaking of which...

The three of them had been walking for a good while now; the sun was now visibly higher (or lower, or whatever) in the sky, and their bodies were more exhausted and weary. Blocky decided to call for a break, give them some time to sit down, take a deep breath, figure out their next moves, deliberate on whether or not they should just give up, and so on.

The hexahedron was *very* disgruntled about the fact that everything wasn't just handed to him on a silver platter. Here they were, doing a whole bunch of tiring, *boring* work, instead of just relaxing on Dream Island, as that was their well-deserved prize. If this was gonna keep going, if it wasn't gonna let up, at the very least he wanted *something* out of it.

Minutes would pass, and the gears would turn in his head. He had used his brain to plan many pranks and plots over the years (it felt like years, anyhow), and he figured it was about time that he conjured up another. A *really* good one. Eventually, *eventually*, things would click.

"Alright." He'd put his hands together. "We're not gonna get *anywhere* at this rate. We need to change things up." He'd take a deep breath. "Right now, we're all just going on a straight line; that's good for sticking together, but for actually finding *anything*, let alone getting GB... Not so much." Another breath. "We're gonna have to split up. We'll cover a *lot* more ground that way." Barf Bag would give him a funny look, but he'd continue with laying out his *very* clever plan. "There's three of us, and so we can cover three different directions; one of us can keep going forward, and the others can go left or right." "Uhuh." Barfy interjected. "But how are we supposed to keep track of each other then? Say one of us *does* find GB. Odds are she'll be prepared, and it's gonna take all three of us to capture her. What happens then?" "Well... look around." Blocky did a few vague gestures. "There's nothing here for *miles*; we could see each other from quite a distance away. If any of us spots any sign of GB- like, if we see her from afar, or something -they can immediately run up to us and let us know."