Alternate Battle for Dream Island

ABFDIA 19b: More Day

Further into the city they went.

They were getting closer to what they've been looking for, they were nearing a tall building they could look out of and find *any* sort of direction, any sort of guidance. They could just feel it. They could also see it, too; as they buried themselves deeper and deeper into the grid, as the memories of the past 2,763 hours (what felt like it, anyway) of aimlessly wandering around in the darkness grew more and more distant, they could also see it approaching closer and closer. As the towers looming around them grew taller and taller, they blocked more and more of their precious sunlight, gradually drowning the areas below in an ever-increasing darkness, a darkness that has become all too familiar to them, all too *sickening*. Seriously. They were on the ground. They were on the ground. The sky was above them. They *knew* that. So what on Earth was the deal with this? What kind of cruel joke is this? Sure, they went out here pretty much *looking* for this; a tall building is often in the company of other tall buildings, as Tennis Ball once said to a Firey that wasn't paying all that much attention, not really. But still, they were very dismayed. This was their issue, one which they willingly ran into, despite having absolutely *no* incentive to do so. They could've just walked up to that wall and climbed over it, or dug under it, or found some other way of circumventing its defenses. Maybe they could've even walked *around* it, even; they didn't know if there were any gaps in the wall, whether it be intentional or caused by years of being exposed to the elements. They don't know because they didn't look, and they didn't look because they were so insistent on this dumb plan.

...They were angry enough about the idea to complain about it, but not enough to, like, turn back.

The journey continued as it always had. Firey remained in the lead, being their guiding light in more ways than one. Bubble was not too far behind, wanting to be more confident and courageous from here on out. Flower and Snowball were trailing behind, a good distance away, constantly bickering about this and that. At the moment, their argument was about the importance of sunlight. Despite having just gotten some sun a few hours (give or take) ago, Flower wanted to be back out there ASAP; meanwhile, Snowball quite preferred it out here in the depths, as he feared that the harsh light was gonna make quick work of him, melting him until he was nothing more but a pool of water, which would eventually be absorbed into the ground to water the grass. Never mind the fact that he's been out and about for quite a while now, and yet he'd *never* been at risk of disappearing. Never mind the fact that *that* goes against logic and reason, and that he should've melted many times over by this point, even without the sun helping things along. They wanted some form of distraction from the dread and horror that was every waking moment of their lives, but they didn't want it *that* badly.

Meanwhile, Teardrop would constantly be bouncing around, from place to place, building to building. She'd keep finding all sorts of things, all sorts of ugly things, all sorts of miserable things. Maybe they'd keep it and mess around with it for a few minutes or so, but eventually they'd end up just throwing it away, or misplaced it somewhere, or *whatever*. All these artifacts definitely seemed to be pointing somewhere; each one carried a story, a story of the ones that once inhabited this place, perhaps built it all those ages ago. How they came to be, how they ended up here, how they lived, how they thrived, and how they were eventually driven out, how they disappeared. If only they could *care*, though. They weren't Golf Ball, and they never wanted to be even *remotely* like her. They can't even figure out the mysteries of their own lives, let alone the enigmas of somebody else's, especially if they lived 2,763 years ago. That's just too much effort. Walking all this distance already was too much for their poor, weary souls.

Speaking of...

After an indeterminate, completely random, completely arbitrary amount of time spent walking, they would suddenly decide to stop; more specifically, Firey would decide to stop, and everyone else would wind up doing the same out of a desire to fit in. After a few moments of silence, a few moments of looking around, realizing that this place was just more of the same oppressive, miserable city, the flame would speak up. "...I think this is a tall enough building." He'd remark. "*Any* of these would've been good enough." Flower commented. "Yeah." Snowball interjected. "How do you *know* that this is good enough?" "Well, I mean... Look around." The inferno would do just that. "This place has become just as dark as back underground. For that to happen, the buildings must be tall enough to block out nearly all of the sunlight, and since it was all around us, well..." He didn't really know how to end that sentence. He also didn't know how to weave in the fact (that he just realized) that there were other possible explanations for that fact; perhaps they've been walking for so much, for so long, that the sun had finally begun to set, and thus there's much less sunlight to block, and much easier too.