Chapter Text
Needle’s eyes narrowed slightly, and she lifted one of her hands to shield her eyes from the way the sun bounced off of the metal of Tennis Ball’s latest invention he was being so secret about. It was like the sun was personally trying to attack her—not unlike much in recent days—considering how unfazed Tennis Ball seemed by the brightness.
The sun had just barley set enough for her current position to not be hiding her eyes from the rays anymore, so, she concluded that her best option while still managing to be lazy was to ever so subtly scoot to the side until the sun was out of her face again. She only had to move a few inches.
”What are you building, again?” Needle pried, despite it not working the last two times she’d attempted to get him to spill it. She thought she broke him when he sighed in annoyance, but frowned again when he shot her a deadpanned look. ”If you must know something about it, it’s going to be for Gelatin and Firey.” That made Needle raise an eyebrow suspiciously.
”Are you trying to buy an advantage?” ”No!” He shot back defensively, pausing for a moment before adding, “I’m trying to invent an advantage.”
”That’s not going to work.” She informed, rolling her eyes despite not being entirely sure of that fact herself. It was Gelatin and Firey. Besides Ruby, they had to be the most childish hosts they had at the moment. Even then, they might be worse than her. ”Well, no harm in trying, okay? Without Pin up for voting—because she would tooooootally be getting out if she was—I’m not exactly the safest out of the five of us.”
Needle heard the bitterness in TB’s words, saw it on his face, and, yeah, she understood where it was coming from. He was almost definitely right, too. If anyone had won the challenge instead of Pin, if anyone else had that immunity, she’d likely be eliminated by a landslide.
She wasn’t always like this, was she? Needle had known Pin for a long time, and, yeah, she’d always been a bit of a hothead, but she’d never been…well, this violent. Maybe it was just because she got eliminated so early in the first season that Needle hadn’t truly gotten to see how competitive she got until more recently. She didn’t know. And she didn’t feel like risking angering Pin enough to ask. It’s not like they’d ever been close. And, even if they had, she saw how fast she was to betray Coiny; poor guy was still recovering.
”Seriously,” Tennis Ball continued, grabbing a wrench with his foot and sitting down to start turning a screw. “Exactly how many ways is she going to think of to kill everyone with that mech suit?” ”I mean, everyone kind of went crazy with the killing last episode.” Needle pointed out, to which TB paused for half a moment in thought.
”Hmmm…fair. We did go a little crazy after figuring out about turning off each other’s beacons. I mean, even Book got a kill in.” Needle’s eyes widened slightly at the news. “Book killed someone? I feel like I’ve barely seen her do that.”
”I mean, she hadn’t meant to, I don’t think. It was when she pushed the ladder down the watchtower so no one could get up it.”
Oooh, so that’d been Book. That made sense, now that Needle thought back on it. She was the last person Needle had seen climbing to the top.
”Wait, who did she kill? Or..who did the ladder kill, I guess?”
”Oh, it was Fries.” TB said flatly, moving the wrench away, seemingly satisfied with his job on the screw, before grabbing a screwdriver to add on another.
Needle was almost surprised by the news, but then she remembered the sheer amount of times Fries ended up dying last episode, and her surprise melted away. “How did he even manage to get-?” “One of the steps cut him in half.” Tennis Ball cut off, already assuming that would be asked in one way or another. “As for how he let that happen? Well…yeah, no, actually, that’s it; he let it happen.”
”…”Let it happen”?” She repeated, confusion rising again, to which TB shrugged—the best one could shrug with legs, at least—and gave her a look like a teacher that was talking about a student’s constant misbehavior. “Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if all that rot finally got to his head.”
“Huh…” “What exactly are you surprised about?” He questioned, subtly informing her she wasn’t hiding her emotions well. “I’ve just…never seen someone-“ “Technically you didn’t see it.” Needle glared at him, he went back to looking at his screws. She continued with a sigh. “I’ve never heard of,” She corrected herself sarcastically, before lowering her tone again “someone just…letting themself die without a strategy behind it. It sounds like he could’ve avoided it-“ “Oh, he could’ve. Me and Pin did easily.” “So why didn’t he?”
Tennis Ball considered the inquiry for a moment. “As much as I hate questions without logical answers, Fries in general doesn’t seem to work with logic. And it’s not like he wasn’t recovered after. And, again, it is just Fries. Does it really matter why he did it?”
Needle groaned softly, frustrated and confused, and reluctantly a little…concerned wasn’t the right word, but it all felt…off. “I’m not sure.” She admitted.
The silence fell across them again, the only sounds present being the occasional squeak of metal or whistles of the light breeze. Needle glanced up, the sun that had previously blinded her indirectly now shining brightly right in front of her eyes. The ball of light, big and yellow in color, reminded her sparingly of her yeast cake from the first season, which, reminded her of getting eliminated. That reminded her of the bread-basket challenge, which in turn reminded her of Fries again. She didn’t know if it was because he was briefly in season one—when he was one of the options to join the show when David first came in—or if it was because bread and fries seemed in roughly the same category of food to her. You do cook them both, and you deep fry bread to make plenty of things. Now, that thought reminded her of when Flower destroyed all the recovery centers in season one. Needle wondered if Fries would be more careful with his life if he couldn’t be recovered.
She was wondering a lot right now, wasn’t she?
Maybe she should stop wondering and start questioning.
“Where is Fries, anyways?” Tennis Ball blinked, momentarily caught off guard by her breaking the silence again. “Well, him and Book both died after you, me, and Coiny fell off the side of the tower. I’m pretty sure Pencil, Ruby, and Ice Cube went to recover Book a few hours ago.” Needle waited for a moment, before pushing. “And…Fries?” “Still dead, probably. I’ve been too busy to think about recovering him, and I doubt anyone in Freesmart would want to. Pin and Coiny obviously didn’t, since Pin definitely doesn’t care and Coiny is still…” Tennis Ball glanced over to the lighthouse momentarily, grimacing ever so slightly before shaking it off and looking back at Needle. “So, yeah, unless you recovered Fries, he’s still dead.”
Needle thought for a moment, or seven, hesitant, but ultimately decided. She stood, placing her hands where her hips would be if she had any prominent features whatsoever. “Then I guess I’d better get on it, then.” “…You’re eager for someone who’s been on the receiving end of his stupidity and rudeness for the past two episodes.”
She shrugged, turning around towards the hole that led to Yoyleland. “It’s no excuse to leave him dead, right? Besides, watching you is getting boring,” She turned back around a moment. “no offense.”
TB’s lips pressed into a thin line as he rolled his eyes. “None taken.” He said before looking back up at her, eyebrows furrowed. “You do know he won’t actually tell you anything, right? Even if he had a “reason”. And, think about it, this is Fries we’re talking about here. Even if he has a reason, I doubt it’s a very good one.”
Needle considered his words, but only frowned. “Well, you’re a scientist, let’s say, theoretically, there is an actual reason. What if it’s…” She hesitated, “concerning or something?” ““Concerning?”” He repeated, unimpressed. “You’re giving him too much credit. We are talking about the same Fries, aren’t we?”
Needle stared at him. They were definitely talking about the same Fries. But, Needle was starting to wonder if she was talking to the same Tennis Ball.
”I’ll be back.” She said instead. “Hope your mystery invention goes well.” She heard Tennis Ball sputter slightly behind her. “I’m serious Needle, you’ll regret it if you try asking.”
She ignored his words, making her way over to the hole and sliding down the wall onto the bottom of the tunnel. She considered running, but she wasn’t really in a rush, was she? She was just recovering Fries, like she’d be recovering anyone.
She found her feet moving faster than intended, though she always seemed to move faster than intended. She was just naturally fast. She knew that. Everyone knew that, so it wasn’t weird. She doesn’t have to prove herself to anyone—there wasn’t even anyone here. Then again, even to herself, she was putting up a bit too much of an argument for it to be nothing.
She was climbing up the other side of the tunnel soon enough, the dirt around her having long shifted from the dull, dry brown and into the bright purple of Yoyleland that was somehow starting to seem even more dull just because of how long they’d resided there. A small “Hup!” Escaped her as she pulled herself up onto the surface. Bushes filled with Yoyleberries surrounded her, and the sun, while still being in the sky, had started to turn said sky into colors that matched the land around her. The pinks and yellows went great against the purple, as much as she was tired of looking at it. Though, done with her own stalling, she followed the only non-purple trail of grass, now gray, due to the glue (which she found fitting, considering you turned gray after eating Yoyleberries), to the HPRC. She sighed in front of the keyboard, staring at her reflection in the interface longer than the actual letters, but typed them in, one by one, disgruntled beeps following each contact of flesh and machine.
‘F’ ‘R’ ‘I’ ‘E’ ‘S’
Needle pressed the green ‘GO’ button before she could second guess herself, watching as the interfaces changed from ‘FRIES’, to ‘LOADING’, to ‘LOADED’, to, finally, ‘PLEASE CRANK’.
The handle spun in her grip as she pushed it, the sound that followed each turn reminding her of what you hear when you go down a zip line a bit too fast. Once, twice, four times, six times, then a ding, like an oven, as Fries, alive and well, emerged from the machine.
No more stalling now.