Work Text:
An instant burst of molten lava slammed Coiny’s face as he was incarcerated into the eternal sea.
Dense lava grabbed at his body. He was grappled further inward through the layers, engulfed in its eternal grasp… his stomach flipped as he spun violently from the speed, bullet-like. He’d puke if his nerves weren’t on fire. He lashed his limbs to try and catch himself in the flow, though he was only able to slow his trajectory slightly.
Damn it!
Needle’s act of Bunch betrayal won’t go unnoted in his mind. Her words bellowed in his head–
I
AM NOT
A W.O.A.H. BUNCHER!
What would Pin’ve thought hearing that? Needle needed her priorities in order. Clearly she had a poor taste in allies.
But not a poor taste in strategy. She did manage to get Coiny out of the running for that flag – though he didn’t want to believe it. There could still be a chance he can get out and win this. There must be.
Pin wouldn’t have taken it. She would’ve knocked some sense into her by doing something cool. Probably would've chased Needle around with her sick mech suit and drilled her into metal shavings! She’d put Needle in place. I know it.
Pin would’ve…
Pin…
Finally, his hurdling came to a halt. A soft sizzle snuffed out his thoughts.
He turned.
An exasperated gasp escaped his throat as his heart sank. His body jerked at the sight of her, hands slipping from his sides to cup his mouth.
Lifeless and abused. The lava picked away at her gentle body. It was impossible to make out her red glow anymore. Her point remained effortlessly stunning as always, a testament to what she prided herself in.
Bubbling magma cackled in his ear, mocking him. The sounds only got louder the longer he gawked, static-like in his blank mind.
Speechless.
He couldn’t help but reach out to her as the stagnant body sank, his desperate arm trembling. It struggled to even make contact. Coiny couldn’t believe his eyes.
“Pin?” he uttered, as if he were unsure. It was clearly her.
He fought his instincts, but he lost. In an instant he cupped his arms around her, spinning in motion and in that same instant he noticed tiny flakes dance up above him.
Blackened and ashy… though there was a slight twinkle through their colourless surface; shiny bubbles shied from the fragments' innards, scoring the exterior.
For a moment, Coiny caught himself imagining them as snowflakes. They were delicate… pretty… He couldn’t help but watch them drift off with Pin still in his arms.
But why did she suddenly feel smaller? Lighter?
A single arm patted her while he remained fixated on the flakes above him.
Then it clicked.
His head shook rapidly. “AUGH–! PIN I-I’M SO–”
He cut himself off fast, and with a grunt and no time to waste he swam up to all the pieces he foolishly watched fly away. It was almost cartoonish, scrounging up all these tiny, tiny specks… but he couldn’t let them go. He couldn’t let her go. Coiny pat them back into place; she was breaking down… slowly.
“If– if I just don’t touch you… you should stay intact…”
Looking at her in this state made him ill. He choked on the butterflies in his stomach, he can’t wait to swim out of this mess. But, while he’s here…
“Well, um…” He awkwardly coughed. “...What brings you here…? Hah…” He kid, like a comedian falling upon deaf ears. Silent.
His eyes softened with guilt the more he stared, to the point where he had to dart them away.
He paddled a little outward from Pin, gauging his surroundings. It was lava for miles. He had lost all sense of direction, what was left? What was right? And could he possibly be upside down right now?
There was no telling where he entered from, that’s for sure.
“Jeez. Well, it’s endless alright. Guess we’ll be stuck down here for a while, Pin.” he cartoonishly tugged at an invisible shirt collar. If he was going to be stuck here for a while, he might as well make light of it. "At least this place is kinda cool though, right?” He kicked his feet back boyishly.
“Kind of reminds me of space, the whole zero gravity part of it. We’ve been there once. We should go again sometime.”
He leaned back towards Pin, letting the lava’s graceful current drag him back towards her while he laid in thought. He was right, it was incredibly spacey. Currents picking him up and taking him wherever it desired… It reminded him of the uncontrollable drift of space.
Firey used to talk big about his adventure off to space in BFDI. Coiny used to be mad jealous of the guy, but then he got to taste it for himself. It was nice – though he wishes the circumstances were a little more tasteful.
The spaceship… Pin…
His heart ached recalling it.
The lava’s flow, its natural pull… it was as if they were back in space again, no longer fighting this time. No betraying the other. Would’ve been better if they got to experience it both alive, though.
Though, that technically wasn’t even his first tussle into space. There was that one time in the cash register… How dumb. This competition was impossible to take seriously sometimes.
Coiny never really did take it seriously though. Not until Pin did.
It was all just for fun, and it still was – to him. He didn’t understand the competitiveness of it all. Didn’t mean he couldn’t still respect it though.
Originally, he only went along with the competition to stick it to the man. That man being Firey, of course. There wasn’t even a prize at first. Everyone just collectively decided there had to be a new competition given Dream Island was never rightfully handed over. It was all sort of aimless.
But then he met people. Pin, Needle, Fries, and if he was really honest with himself, everyone. The entire cast, void of the Freesmarters of course.
Even with all the new connections, sometimes he’d reminisce back on his older friends. Snowball, Pen, Blocky, Eraser…? That one was up in the air, but he really did miss them all. The bros treated him well, taught him how to act, stuck up for him – well, sometimes.
None of them could compare to his new friends though. He bit his tongue admitting it, but it was wholeheartedly true.
They must be busting their butts off in the TLC with all the other losers, hah! Hope they’ve been cheering for me…
Despite his cheeks aching from the lava’s pressure, he smiled. He feared he had let them down this challenge, though. It’s alright, Leafy probably had more friendship flags Tennis Ball didn’t know about. As soon as he gets out of the lava, he’ll just keep taking Leafy to new places forever and ever! He’d try his hardest to catch up with whatever lead the others would’ve gained by then. He’d stop at nothing to win, he was determined.
For all of W.O.A.H. Bunch!
The sheer drive of knowing he was competing for his friends couldn’t help but lighten his mood. “Gah, who am I kidding. This place isn’t so bad, plus, I'm with my best buddy Pin!” He nudged her.
He spun himself in circles in front of her body, how unserious. He thrusted through the lava in an attempt to get used to moving around in the stuff. It was thick and somewhat uncomfortable… but if he wants to get out at some point then he’s certainly gotta learn to wade through it.
“WEE! Haha!” He made lava angels mid-drift.
No matter how crummy or unfortunate, Coiny had become an expert at keeping things lighthearted. Seeing the best in situations like these… How could he not have? He’d gotten so used to doing it.
He recalled this one night. It was after the trinkets challenge where he caught a distressed Pin struggling to catch a wink of sleep. It wasn’t the first time, either. He felt hurt every single time he’d catch her up late, awake. Walking in on a friend looking so befuddled – she was a wreck.
At first, he’d always assume Pin was angry about the game. Maybe it was just her being moody about the Freesmarters, maybe angry at him and the other Bunchers for their shotty performance. But he slowly started to understand her better with time.
She had so much stripped away from her. Her limbs, her pride, her ego – all of it was painstakingly torn from her. He’d be rather restless in her position too, he supposed.
Though, Coiny was always confused about why she wasn’t more proud of how far she’d come. Proud of overcoming it. At least, getting a cool mech suit was ‘overcoming’ it in his eyes. It was close-minded, not that he’d know that. Not that she’d outright tell him.
Again, it hurt seeing her so dreary and with a mind so unclear. She looked exceptionally pained that night.
He remembers their talk.
“Aren’t you tired?” a voice beckoned from behind.
They were out in the grasslands, just the two of them. Sleeping bags and ragged pillows were all that separated them from the crickets in their sleep. There sat a shaken Pin. Her mech treads were awfully muddied and scratched, she overused the poor things. A foul look twinged in her eyes. She bet she looked pathetic to him.
His heroic leader couldn’t help but sheepishly stare back.
She didn’t know how to respond to him. Yes, she was tired. She secretly wished he’d dig a little deeper. Ask a little more.
“Seriously, what’s up. You can tell me. You know you can tell me anything.” He stepped closer. So assertive… and there it was. That curiosity she was searching for.
Her body shot to the side in response. He’ll have to wrestle an explanation out of her.
“I’m OK, just a little worried about the elimination.”
“That can’t be all, though, right?” His voice deepened.
He knew how to read faces, another skill he picked up by being her friend. She was very awkward with her emotions… easily read like a book. Gosh, if he told her that she’d condemn him, thinking he was comparing Pin to that Freesmarter.
“No, that is all, thanks.” Stubbornly, she turned herself all the way around. So aloof. No matter how many times they’ve been through this same rigamarole, no matter how close Coiny thought he had managed to get to her… she kept making Coiny feel he was at least 2 steps behind at all times.
He brushed a hand on her side.
“Pin, you’ve been down all week, I've noticed. You can’t even sleep. I’ve seen you when you’re worried about eliminations, this isn’t that.”
“Well it is.”
So defensive. His chest punched, how could his friend not feel safe confiding in him? He sat beside her in protest, facing the opposite way so as to not pressure her. Coiny gently rubbed her back with the hind of his hand, his touch so faint she could barely notice.
“Is it about Freesmart, like before?”
“No.” There was a subtle shuffle as she spoke. She fidgeted her treads stiff in the grass.
“Are you mad at Needle for selling us out?”
“Coiny, seriously. I’m good.” What a gut punch.
“Pin–” He leaned on her. She flinched at the sudden touch, it made her queasy. “–Is it about your limbs?”
No response.
“I don’t really get it. I mean, you’ve got a mech suit now. It’s an awesome prize, you’ve gotta admit.” His hand nudged her from behind.
Her face scrunched sourly, thank god he couldn’t see.
“But I guess I'm not really meant to understand. If I had my arms and legs taken away, I'd hate the world too.”
‘Hate the world?’ she repeated in her head, incredulous.
“I’m sorry I can’t relate to you. But I want you to know I’ve got your back. Whether it’s sneaking bugs into the supervan to get back at those Freesmarters or chucking mud balls at Tennis Ball when he’s not looking, I’ll do it. I just want you to know you aren’t alone, ‘kay?”
It was rather presumptuous and a little backhanded… but he was certainly being sincere. Pin knew he wouldn’t understand, but this sudden maturity… the corner of her frown couldn’t help but lift briefly.
“Okay,” Pin dryly answered.
An awfully cold response. Coiny choked, but could only pick himself up and pray that at least some of their talk would stick with her. He bit his tongue, fighting the urge to talk her ear off just a little bit more…
“Maybe…” he swallowed, “…try and loosen up a little.”
Her heart panged by his words.
“Things are down for you right now. Terribly down.” Coiny’s chest tightened, he felt so cruel. “But the competition is just for fun at the end of the day. Remember that.”
There was laxness in the words he left her with. He trailed off back to his sleeping bag where he wrestled for a bit before finally nesting down. She swears she caught him looking back at her once or twice during the night.
His final words soured their talk, it was awfully dismissive. But that was Coiny. He considered it tough love – he wants her to have fun above all else – but to Pin it never sat right. Coiny could tell.
His unwillingness to take her concerns seriously pricked at her. Pin desperately wished someone could see things at her level. Unfortunately, her best friend didn’t seem to be that person nor wanted to be. Stuck in his own ways. There were no signs of him accepting change. Not even if that change was forced upon Pin. So unfathomably stubborn.
Change. Just like being tossed in lava. It wasn’t the same scenario of course, but this was new to him personally. He was trying hard to accept his new surroundings.
Continuously, he kicked and spun. How could this possibly get boring? he thought flippantly. He swam towards Pin and gently lifted her, taking her with him. The surface of her plastic was wrecked beyond recognition, though, staring at her as he swam… He could still imagine a face.
Deep down, he wanted to believe she was still in there – subconsciously – somehow. She had an odd track record with unexpectedly finding ways to communicate with him. It was something so admirable about her, determined to always get her word in. He had become so used to hearing her. Her orders… It was jarring being stuck with only his own mind and mouth to listen to.
Pin…?
He prodded in his own mind. He hoped it could reach hers.
There’d be no hope if he was forced to come up with a plan to get out alone. But Pin? If anyone could come up with an ingenious plan to get them out of here, it'd be Pin.
So, what’re you thinking? He sheepishly grinned at her scarred plastic. The lava’s abuse of her body punched him. What’s the plan here?
His thumb rubbed at her disturbingly torn figure. He was certainly thinking of things himself. Like why on earth was she down here, in lava of all things? His brain managed to fill in some of the gaps but he was against all possible conclusions. He swept his palm across her surface, almost instinctually, as he searched in his own mind.
Did you slip into the chasm by accident?
Was there someone who pushed you down here?
Or, was it something else..?
It wasn’t the elimination was it? His fingers tensed into her plastic, clawing her. Pin, please. I need to know it wasn’t that.
There was an ambient pause, eagerly awaiting a response. It was puppy-like, how desperate he was for her validation. For her confirmation. His arm snaked down her back, he could feel the surface crumbling under the weight of both his heart and his hand. He flinched and ardently smoothed his hand back up to shape the plastic back in place.
If she was alive, she would be suffering.
If she was dead, he would be alone.
Schrödinger’s Pin. He didn’t want to know the answer anymore. He wanted to believe both, but he knew that was selfish of him.
A dainty drip of molten plastic trickled down her face where one of her eyes would’ve been, similar to a tear. He stared. Frozen. That was enough thinking for now.
The passage of time feels almost teasingly slow when you’re stuck without sunlight. A week had to have gone by around about now. Maybe a month, but it was hard to tell.
Her body was starting to show some serious wear and tear from all the picking and scratching. Coiny’s fidgeting wasn’t helping. There was clear damage to her waist where he handled her most often. Sometimes he’d gently hold her for a bit. Sometimes he’d nervously fiddle with her.
“Hm, alright, I got the next game. Pin, what number am I thinking of right now? I’m talking… one-to-ten, real easy for you.”
There was the illusion of company when she was in his arms. Though less of an illusion to him and more of a belief. The idea that she’s in there, unable to speak to him, was tantalising enough to keep him engaged. There was hope that she was only incapacitated temporarily. Hopefully numb to the heat.
“If you’re saying something, I can’t hear you.” His eyes rolled as he flicked peeling strips of charred plastic. He kept up those subtle reminders in case her mind was still intact. There was certainly delusion – maybe she was asleep. An entire month of sleep isn’t that unnatural, right? She was notoriously a heavy sleeper. A month of sleep sounds rather silly, but it was a cute thought in the context of Pin. “Hah, you’re stumped, aren’tchya? The answer was three.” He kept up small talk, urging her to reach out to him.
During some of the downtime between earlier episodes, there were mornings where Coiny and the other W.O.A.H. Bunchers would come up with schemes to forcibly rouse Pin. She slept like a rock – sweet as a baby. It took the most dubious methods to eventually shake her awake.
“...Just felt wrong not to give you the answer since, y’know.” A hand lifted off of her side and gestured weakly.
Sound was a natural go-to in the eyes of Bomby. He’d ransack all the abandoned malls in Yoylecity to scour for pots and pans, stirring up the loudest racket he could. Pin was very neurotic with noise – she hated it. It always felt cruel using it against her when she looked so peaceful. That didn’t stop Bomby, though. It worked pretty well.
“Sorry, I’m probably coming up with super boring games, I get it.” His body swayed to the side, pushing against the lava.
Needle was particularly physical with her own approach. Her first instinct was always slapping, because of course it was. Sometimes it worked. Or sometimes Pin would roll away from the force. Without her limbs to anchor her, Pin was always pretty loose. Needle’s kicking and pushing just sent Pin tumbling most of the time. Astoundingly, the tumbling wasn’t enough to bat her awake more than a third of the time.
“Feel free to uhm. Speak up if you have a better idea… I’m starting to run out of ‘fun’ conversation starters.”
Nickel once had the bright idea to dump piping hot water on Pin. There’s not much to this story.
Because it worked.
“I know, ha-ha. I’m running out of things to say? Usually I've got more in the chamber–” he bumped a fist on his chest, “–but, the lava’s startin’ to get a little old.”
Every time she woke up through their antics, they’d get an earful from their perturbed leader. You’d imagine waking someone up with a bucket of boiling water would be somewhat upsetting to witness, but it felt justified considering the lengths they went through. They’d usually end up laughing by the end of it over the stupidity; it’s how they bonded.
“...I’m not boring you, am I?” His brows furrowed. He shuddered as molten plastic slowly dripped over his fingertips.
The idea of waking her up prematurely unnerved him – sure he hadn’t minded the beratement in the past, but he didn’t want to disturb her. She looked so damn peaceful.
“Mm.” Coiny softly mumbled. He placed his second hand back onto her hip, curling around her curve. A finger dragged down her body for a short moment, before he went back to plain fidgeting.
At this point, he knew she wasn’t all there right now. There was no chance of that in the first place. At least, physically so. But that’s also what he thought when she lost her face.
“Pin.”
He closed his eyes briefly, grasping at her sides tighter. Her plastic was a sensory nightmare – mushy and cracked. The sensation was gel-like, slick and slippery. His fingers tensed and interlocked into exposed crevices that the lava carved out of her.
He scratched at her in a moment of frustration.
“Mmph…” He let out a grunt before flashing his eyes back open.
His shoulders loosened and he lifted his body away to break tension. For once, it felt uncomfortable to be so close.
He kicked back, letting the lava handle him now. As he drifted, he just stared at her. He could’ve sworn the lava was dragging her down. Sinking her. It was an awfully familiar visual.
His eyelids dropped. “Remember when we went swimming in the canal for keys? For the, uh, Ripping Flower’s Petals challenge?”
Bubbles cackled from both his sides, his only audience being the magma.
“Ahem,” he continued, “I dunno, this kind of reminds me of that. We should seriously go swimming for real though! Could be fun.” he smirked, shooting a playful finger gun toward her. He propelled himself forwards again, getting caught in the same current as hers.
There was a strong pull, which really did remind him of the Goiky Canal. Definitely more unpleasant, but the lava was somewhat comforting to him. To a degree. Maybe not mentally, but physically. It was warm. Though the bubbling was certainly irksome… but he got used to it, like a bubble bath of sorts. It wasn’t all bad down here.
He laughed, “It’s not every day you get a break from the competition to go for a swim with your best pal!”
It’s a shame she was unconscious on both swimming occasions.
“We should give this another shot when we’re outta here. The– uh. Swimming part. Preferably in water.” It was a lighthearted thought. Definitely hopeful but he could imagine that they'd get out of the lava soon enough for there to still be time left before his next challenge, barring he survives the elimination, that is.
Though, maybe he’ll get out in time to continue this challenge like he’d hoped. Perhaps that was too much wishful thinking.
“Next time we go swimming… could it just be us two? The other Bunch buddies are cool but I think we should cool off after this mess. They wouldn’t understand it” he shrugged.
Just the two of us. Conscious.
“I could teach you how to swim nice and proper! You’re such a sinker, bahaha!” He teased, now upside down, his feet adjacent to her point. “Ok, ok– I’m being unfair, sorry. Maybe we should plan this after we figure out the whole… limb situation.”
His voice dulled as he paddled on, there was thickness in his throat when he dropped the reminder of her mistreatment. It wasn’t fair. None of this was.
What made the world think she deserved to have her body desecrated in lava like this?
Pulled apart violently by magma…
Her brittle body was defaced horribly, somehow worse than any Freesmarters ever could. He grit his teeth just thinking about it.
Quickly, he waded back rightside up, now adjacent to her front. His eyes narrowed as his brows dropped, glaring deep into her. It looked like a scowl, but it was more like scanning. His eyes traced her silhouette.
Looking at her made him feel a lot less anxious. Despite lacking a face and looking awfully garish, it was still Pin. Gazing at her, he couldn’t help but envision her in a pretty lake. He dreamed of that perfect cool-down hangout he so desperately wanted.
They’d go somewhere fancier than the canal, somewhere bright and colourful. He’d find a spot surrounded by her favourite flowers, the Yoyle kind. They were an ode to her extensive plant knowledge, with a scent too familiar to her – very rich and bitter. They complimented her plastic extraordinarily… delicate and placid. The visual of her paddling and splashing made him smile, they’d certainly shoot water at each other. She was devious like that, somewhat unpredictable. But there was a soft innocence to her. He desperately wanted to experience it.
It would be the perfect confirmation of their friendship – perhaps ally-ship in Pin’s eyes. Perhaps more if he dared push. He couldn’t quite read her there, even after reconciling with her. Doubts remained planted in his mind.
How she viewed him was a mystery, one which unnerved him. His chest tightened even thinking about how he could be replaceable to her.
He continued to detail that perfect scenario. The two of them could finally collect their thoughts after a hard back-and-forth this entire season. Perhaps some time away from the competition would cheer her up; she was near inconsolable half the time she was around the other contestants. He wanted to better understand her there. That’s all he could think about – how he wished to understand her. There were moments where he really thought he’d finally gotten a hold of her insecurities, only to find out she was a lot more complicated than he had thought.
Outside of his bashful thoughts, the visuals would be stunning. They’d be able to distract him from their complicated friendship. The sun would glisten off the water and into their eyes, blinding. Though nothing would be as blinding as her smile. Her soft, discreet smile. Coiny could get lost in the thought of her gorgeous face for hours, perhaps even forever.
He’d love to be lost in her face right now.
Though in a sense, he was lost already – without a face to do it.
His eyelids fell heavier. Hands dug deeper into her taut surface vehemently, searching for a better grip. He felt awful wanting this so badly. Selfish, selfish coin. The scene felt so tangible yet so impossible.
When they get out, would she even want to stick around with him?
Pin would probably send him off to continue competing. He promised he’d win. For the two of them. Maybe she’d be disappointed he’s taken so long to escape. She’d expect better from him.
Was he stalling?
He couldn’t quite answer that himself. He didn’t think he was. Why would he want to be here for so long.
His vice strengthened. Plastic melded over his fingers as they wriggled deep in her core; it was like he was merging with her. God, he wished he was. He struggled to pay attention to what he was doing – he was too caught up in his own head.
A stark hiss released from his eye.
“Mm. We’ll get out of here. I’ll figure it all out. It’s my turn to come up with a plan.”
Deep down he knew he was a lost cause. Coiny knows he can come up with clever plans sometimes, but he knew his strong suit was executing Pin’s. She had a certain wit that he couldn’t comprehend at times but still admired. That was their dynamic. Brains and brawns in the simplest terms – though maybe not the most accurate. There was some overlap, sometimes they even flipped, but that’s the gist of it.
He was going to have to brute force some sort of answer out of this lava maze if he wanted to leave. He knew he owed it to her.
The idea of a long, rejuvenating sleep was out of the question. However, the urge still remained. It's got to have been two months by now, and that’s a generous guesstimate. It felt more like a year.
His chest was tight and he nodded his head frequently; a repetitive motion, like a drinking bird. Stuck in a loop of nodding off and suddenly waking back up, constantly dreaded with the thought of sleeping through Pin possibly falling apart beyond repair.
That’s why he knew he had to act fast if he was going to figure out an escape route. He had to grapple with his first obstacle; the question of whether Pin would be coming with him or not. He could recover her once he resurfaced, sure, but in the likely scenario his escape attempt fails… He’ll be alone. Bringing Pin with him would likely speed up her decay, not to mention distract him. Was there really a point with bringing her along?
It was difficult. He had weighed his options for days, but it was time to put his foot down and make a decision.
And that was to let her go. He’ll reunite with her on the surface. That was the plan.
Their relative position in the lava was difficult to discern; it was almost impossible to graph where gravity was pulling him through all the thick layers. But he took note whenever it seemed like Pin was sinking. That solved the issue of figuring out which direction down was. It meant he knew where up was as well.
But that wouldn’t be helpful to him unless he wanted to scratch and claw his way through magnitudes of pure rock and sediment. Remember – quick. He wanted this to be a speedy escape.
There was then the idea to just travel in a straight line and pray he’d find where he was originally punched in from. It was risky. He could absolutely end up guessing wrong.
Pin, please. I kinda need some help here, dude.
An eye twitched while he lightly rattled her, gritting his teeth. He was beyond frustrated – usually he was more clever than this. He bore his knuckles, clenching them by his face and rubbing it rough between his brows.
This is how he spent most of his time. Pacing back and forth, clutching to Pin, begging for some divine wisdom.
With a wrist flick, he then palmed his face and dragged his hand down, forcing his eyes wide open before then releasing. It was infuriating. Having nothing to work with only irritated him more – he was great at making plans with what he’s got. But all he’s got right now is Pin – or more accurately, a lump of plastic.
“Come on Coiny. Come on now…” He snapped his fingers and banged a fist on his forehead. “Work your magic. C’mon! Plan, spit it out now!”
He curled fingers around his own rim, clutching at his head. A soothing mechanism, he did this whenever he was frustrated, which to be honest wasn’t often. He traced his fingers down his edge, dragging his nails along the grooves that ringed him, and when he reached halfway – he repeated back from the top.
His edges were tactile – very therapeutic to fiddle with. Every ridge his fingers explored rang a sensation down his spine, spiking his nerves.
It distracted him from the monotony. He was lucky to be a coin, he couldn’t imagine what it’d be like as another object. Everyone was unique and different. It was an admirable feature about the cast. Coiny always wondered how the others would use their own features to pacify themselves, if at all. Maybe not everyone did it – maybe this was a him thing.
Sometimes he caught Pin flicking scratched up sections of her plastic. He thought it was weird. Was that not practically like picking at your skin? He never shamed her though. Never spoke up or questioned her. He just watched. Observed. Despite their many differences, they shared small habits like that. Fidgeting was one. It was reassuring seeing he wasn’t alone with the habit.
Pin was always bashful, brutish even, but seeing her nervous like that… It was new. Reminded Coiny of himself. They were more similar than they both thought. Small moments like that helped build an understanding of each other.
Hell, Coiny knew a bit more about Pin than a normal friend should. As they got closer, their interactions did too. From having more in-depth conversations, to letting him pick her up and handle her – to her letting him touch her. There was a particular part of her that he noticed spiked a reaction when touched.
Pin let him climb up her plenty times, especially during her mecha bout. It was strategic; advantageous. But to get the best grip possible and ensure he’d never slip off, he made sure to always hold her by the point. Sometimes mid-ride he’d fiddle with it, stroke it like he’s fidgeting with any old solid material – like he fidgeted with himself. She always pulled a specific face and jittered when he made contact.
Did it bother her, or was this the face she pulled when relaxed? Unreadable. He wished he could just open her up. Dissect her brain – finally get that understanding he desperately wanted out of her. He could read faces but sometimes he’d slip up like that.
Despite the confusion, he enjoyed fidgeting with her point. If not for her, then for himself. It was smooth. Clean, his fingers glided across the clear steel surface effortlessly. With every downward stroke he could feel her shiver and jump, shuffling slightly out of place. Must be sensitive. He still continued despite the awkward nature, he could tell it calmed her down at least a little.
If he let himself admit it… he found it cute. Coiny basked in those vulnerable moments they had.
He hmm’d in the sanctity of his recalled memories.
Wait.
Stalling! Christ – he’s actually stalling. He bashed his fist into his forehead hard and fast.
“What am I doing? I just need to go for it. Right?” He splayed his fingers, turning to Pin as if she could answer. “I just– just gotta give it a shot. That’s what you’d do, I think.”
He pumped his fist beside him and took a deep breath, preparing to face the unknown. Coiny drafted his eyes to the side, giving the magma around him a shifty look. He turned both ways like he was checking a road for cars. With the sway of his head he checked all the possible directions around him.
The distance, the effort, the time it’d take – it weighed on him heavy like a harness of lead. He hasn’t been very active since he got here – did he have the strength to do it alone?
Coiny turned back to Pin. Then he turned the opposite direction, adjacent from her front. He held his hands up, making a picture motion, gauging the exact angle he’ll travel. It didn’t really matter how hard he thought about it; it’d be a shot in the dark no matter what.
He just had to go for it.
If he shied away from the task any longer… not only would he only be delaying the inevitable of him being stuck down here forever, but he’d also be letting Pin down. Who else would recover her? No one else seemed too enthusiastic to do so back in BFDIA 18.
Jerks.
He braced himself. Another deep breath. And–
He swam. Shoveling his arms through the mass that encased him – encased them. Though he so desperately wanted to turn back to look at her, he knew that’d distract him. If he took one more look at her then he wouldn’t trust himself to get lost in the sight. He wouldn’t get out if he dared to.
No more delay. He kicked at the lava, it was ferocious. The pushback was intense, the density slamming into his face as he traveled. It felt almost purposeful, spiteful. Like it wanted him to stay.
Like it was alive.
There wasn’t a moment to dwell on the thought. The harder he’d think the slower he’d swim, so he just had to let it go. Desperation spiked through his bones, which were surely weak by now. Being this active shot his heart a little, it was too unnatural. But he couldn’t think about that. No, he had to get out. He didn’t even care to clutch at his chest from the pain.
The intensity was bewildering. Bubbles stood like landmines in his path. Every pop was like a cacophony of mockery, the lava laughing at him. He dodged them best he could – if he let himself take the hits then he’d be sent spinning again, disrupting his sense of direction. All he could do is stay determined. Now was a better time than ever to have a little faith in himself.
Pin would cheer him on. Maybe she was, maybe she was trying to.
His eyes clenched as his brows dropped – this was serious. Dire. He grunted and heaved from exhaustion, but his mind and soul had more control over him than his nerves. No matter how weak he was, he just had to keep going.
But he’s made quite the distance.
And there’s no end in sight.
Not a single sign of other solid matter floating about.
Nothing else alive.
No walls.
He was never claustrophobic, nor would a place so open usually spike such a fear, but he felt so trapped and enclosed. A mouse in a shoebox.
Was he making progress?
Was this… worth leaving Pin behind for?
Losing Pin over a pitiful attempt at escape.
Pin…
His face tensed by the thought of it. What happened to no more thinking? His eyes hissed as his breath somehow dropped heavier.
What if I can still go back.
But he’s gone so far.
What if the exit’s right there?
His paddling unfortunately slowed. He still powered through, but his heart was starting to ache worse than his limbs.
What if it’s not this way.
Shaky breaths lingered.
No– Coiny, stop that.
His bottom lids curled the curve of his eyes and his brows dropped lower, almost squinting. He bit down on his lip hard, yelping a little from the bite. Stop thinking. Keep swimming.
The lava felt heavier all of a sudden. It grabbed at him, trying to keep him at bay. Its hands grappled on his body, catching in his grooves.
Was this even worth it?
She was worth it.
But was he worth it?
He tensed up worse. His fists stiffly clawed through the lava, his formation was sloppy.
It’s his fault he’s down here. How dare he be so flippant to Needle? It punched him right in the gut.
Magma punched him even harder. His mind throbbed at the pain. Body scored and abused, he fought back as hard as he could. He winced.
And he slowed.
Could she be gone already…?
He wasn’t just fighting the lava.
Would there even be anything left of her if I turned back?
Temptation. That was the greater enemy.
Pin…
He bowled over slightly.
All motion ceased.
Sickly wincing in pain.
…
And he turned, checking behind himself.
Vast and empty.
He failed.
He grinded his teeth and nodded solemnly. Stiffly, he paddled back. He took it slow, but kept up pace in case he could still catch Pin intact. Well – somewhat intact.
His limbs exhibited involuntary jerks. The lava refused to kill him, but at this rate Coiny was doing more harm to himself than anything else ever could. He’s died before. Plenty of times. Painfully, slowly, embarrassingly, he’s gone through so many various dumb ways to die.
He wished lava could be added to the list.
…
Black particles splayed around him as he swam. He clapped them in his hands like flies, catching every little one. They left a distinct trail for him to follow. The pit in his stomach grew deeper and deeper the more he caught. He knew Pin was close.
And there she was.
Her beauty defaced, her descent graceful.
She was half the object he last remembered seeing. Steam escaped from his eyes where it could. He paddled weakly, body stiff, and sharked around her, collecting every last piece of her puzzle. Every speck was a reminder of his failure.
This was his punishment – to see his friend half destroyed. She looked as if maggots had their way with her, devouring her flared bottom and attacking her abdomen. It was horrific. His stomach churned with every new piece that entered his hands.
He floated back down to her, chasing after her. Plastic was slowly molded back into place, piece by piece. It was depressing. A sad display of his devotion. It’s all he had left to show. He was too weak to prove he could escape for the both of them.
This wasn’t the first time he failed her. He hoped that this’d at least be the last.
She looked Frankensteined. Sloppily held back together, it was a rather pathetic sight.
He looked at her wishfully. He hucked himself forwards a little, sick.
All he could do is nestle his hands around her and position his feet by her flared edge.
And continue to drift.
What else was there left to do?
What else but.
He gulped.
“I’m sorry, Pin.” His fingers dug into her lacerations. “I’ll piece you together, forever. As long as I can. I won’t leave you again. That’s… my bad.” his voice shook as he spoke.
His hand snaked up and over her top, reaching the base of her point.
I hope that’ll make up for it.
Fingers grazed what was left of it. He stroked it. Rough and jagged, it was unpleasant to the touch – awfully scratched up and damaged.
Guilt shot through his arm after his hands met her damage. Instantly, he shot off of her body. He’d only hurt her more.
Even if you’ll never know.
For a brief period, Coiny didn’t do much. He wasn’t doing much down here in the first place, but he was especially exhausted after his sorry excuse of an escape.
He dozed in and out of naps. He’d damn himself every time he did so much as think he deserved a long sleep. He didn’t earn that. Look at how badly he’s screwed up. What a mess.
During all this downtime, he just kept piecing her together. Every little fragment that escaped her surface was instantaneously slapped back into place. He was rough with it, agile. You’d think his reaction time would have dulled but he was awfully persistent.
Though he wasn’t acting quick purely out of persistence. He felt awful. He felt awful about her. Now anytime he dared to hold her… he’d subconsciously slap himself on the face. Touching her was disallowed, it felt too invasive. He banned it.
Despite clinging to her relentlessly prior, he felt that he had lost the privilege.
He was given the opportunity to be as greedy as he wanted, touching her wherever, but he couldn’t bring himself to dare it. It gnawed at his mind, the temptation was there. But no matter how enticing the thought was… Her body was sacred.
Defacing it would be wrong. That was his friend.
Instead, he admired her with his eyes. All those pent up emotions led to plenty of lonely stares and glances, it was a different kind of vandalism. It was promiscuous and dishonourable, maybe even immoral.
Scandalous.
His eyes traced the outline of her silhouette, even with the dark cloak of soot covering her… she was gorgeous. He could never forget that cheeky smile of hers… That stunning point… He could still hear her eloquent tongue in his ear, her distinctive staccato speech. There was rhythm when she spoke, that enchanting cadence in her voice.
How unfair that he’s condemned to this eternal torture, wading in this hell soup with his best friend’s carcass. Alone. He may never hear another order from her again.
He missed being bossed around… being told what to do. He wouldn’t take orders from anyone else. Only Pin. She was the one to break him in that sense. She got under his skin like no other object could. She was special.
Mad at the thought, he thumped his head on hers slightly.
Sorry.
He’d rebuild her for eternity to prove that he was sorry. He’s not quite sure where this obligation was rooted. It was daunting – the idea of letting her down speared his throat, choking him. He wanted to be a good friend.
Her best friend – her right hand man. That was how it felt being beside her, they were equals in that sense. A heroic leader and her muse.
She’d be so disappointed at the sight of him trembling pathetically. Stiff with strife and pent up sadness and awe, there was little to exert anymore. Broken mentally and physically.
His arm raised limp, slipping from the side of his body. This let a few plastic particles slip by his attention, but he couldn’t care right now. His arm just… lingered. Hand dangling by her side, hovering carefully just off the surface of her taut plastic.
Hesitant and heedful, he stayed vigilant. His forehead creased as he swithered. Unsure. Her gorgeous face wept at his gaze, plastic dripping by her face.
Dithering in his mind… He lowered a finger onto her upper side, right under her flared top, right by the crease. He then lowered another finger. And another. Each finger that met her body made him nauseous. Was this too distasteful? He lifted his free arm next, doing the same on her other side. Dainty fingers meshed with her plastic, pressing into the border.
Once his palms finally planted, his hands trickled down. He remained gentle, working his arms down. They smoothed her sides, melded her shape back together into something more recognisable.
His hands continued to glide down, lowering further and further. Stiff thumbs rubbed at her exterior.
They lowered more, traveling daringly low. Uncomfortably lower than he’d dare to before.
Finally, he clasped her hips like a vice and lidded his eyes.
For a moment, he stared. Nothing more, nothing less.
He observed her state. She looked different. Her point was smaller than he had last seen. Almost obscene to him – he was too used to that old drill bit. Her sides appeared bare, the dark christened plastic reminding him of her treads. She lost everything she had gained.
Solemnly he nodded, not out of tiredness, but in shame.
She had it so good, and it was all ripped away from her. Her drill, her treads, her battery pack. She was barren – wasted. He choked on his nerves – he let her down miserably.
He thought he had some understanding of her.
Clearly he lacked some comprehension of her situation.
He made sure to check up on her every now and then. Made her feel wanted. Including her where others excluded. Constantly dropping reminders that stuff was starting to look up; her mech suit was proof of that in his mind.
Though, what he lacked most was sympathy.
Pin didn’t want a mech suit. Pin didn’t ask to be coddled. Pin never wanted to be disliked.
Pin wanted to be Pin.
Did Coiny know what ‘Pin’ meant to her?
Or was Pin just that brute in his mind.
His fingers tensed, digging into her hips. She caved slightly, but her structure remained. That judgemental stare from her surface – he could sense it. Even without a face, he could read her disappointment. It was likely self-imposed, however, he didn’t acknowledge that. It felt like it was emanating from her.
Ungrateful. That’s all Coiny could think of when he saw her miserable with such a cool suit during challenge downtime. He never spoke it, though he thought it. He’d kill to have robotic enhancements like that for himself. Weren’t they awesome? When he caught a taste of their usage in BFDIA 17 he was in awe – their power was addicting. The speed, the strength, he felt potent and strong. He was one of the smallest objects, and the suit treads made him feel so big for once…
He meant no harm by the thought, he didn’t want to think of her in that way. But he did, and it wracked him constantly. But seeing her here… vulnerable and exposed.
She really didn’t have anything.
Not before, not now.
His palms pressed deeper into her raw body. He nervously shook as he began to carefully lift her.
She was now in a cradle hold. He hoisted her up, attached by her waist. They swayed gently, catching in the flow of the lava, spinning gracefully.
His right thumb nudged her, caressing the mush he had a hold of.
He still didn’t really get it. Was the mech suit really not that cool? That’s disappointing. He refused to dwell on it longer.
If she was here, he’d ask her raw and quick. He’d scour for answers, figure her out.
It unnerved him to think he was being dismissive to her issues in the past.
Selfish, ignorant, hunk of metal.
His head pounded… Trepidation churned within him.
They remained caught in the current. His legs propelled them, guiding them. The spinning was slow, steady and rhythmic. Like a soft synchronized dance.
Holding her tightly, suspending her – he didn’t want to let go.
But he knew he’d have to soon.
Adrift aimlessly.
Deafening, gravelly pops of lava bubbling up echoed through both his mind and soul.
There he lies in wait. Arms and legs out, ragdolled. His body remains buoyant yet limp, almost as lifeless as Pin. Tired, there’s no more resistance. He dropped all hope months ago – probably. He’s unsure.
God knows how long it's been. He’s no longer sick of the monotony. Not even afraid. Though he isn’t content either.
But he’s alone. He knows he’s alone. He’s known that since he got here. No matter how much he sucks up his pride and shields his eyes from reality – she’s never been there with him. He's been fighting alone.
His tired eyes trudge open again, battling the need for sleep. The twitching of his hands, arms and fingertips sends shivers crawling way up his body. They’re nervous tics – a small behavioural habit he’s picked up. The magma’s pressure on his body is near unbearable, making him sick to his core. His stomach sounded as if it were parroting the grumbling of the magma.
He had given up a while ago now.
He gave up on himself.
There wasn’t much to give up on in the first place.
Being trapped in lava with no sense of time does insane things to the mind. He’d never been a very doom-filled guy, always optimistic. But Coiny wasn’t exactly Coiny right now. Instead, he was just another drop of material in this giant melting pot of desires.
His mind had degraded faster than her body.
Pin…
Finally, he managed to pry his eyes wide open after a plethora of misguided blinks. He stared at her once more. No matter how long he was forced to look at his best friend dead like this – he was never sick of the sight. After all, it was still Pin at the end of the day. He repeated that in his mind like a justification for being so attached.
Coiny.
It was like her face beckoned. He could imagine a dainty hand reaching out to him, a finger curling in anticipation. He could hear a faint murmur calling from her dissipating body–
Coiny, come here.
Her body gawked at him. He heard that familiar voice…
And he fell for it – of course he did.
…Pin?
There was zero hesitation. With what little strength remained, he sifted through the lava, chasing after her sinking body. He was deprived of her attention.
Now close, he pressed a hand deep on her temple and another by her cheek. He caressed her plastic softly, a habit he could never shake. It was both uncomfortable yet so comforting to be so close to her.
Pin, Not like this…
He whined in his mind, taking deep, shaky breaths. His head tilted up, looking at her as open, fatigued eyes fixed onto her figure. He couldn’t live with the embarrassing reality that he was still stuck here talking to himself. Roleplaying as her in his mind. Absolutely pathetic; a total wreck.
Pin, please.
Her omnipresence was ethereal and damning.
I’m done, I think.
He felt dramatic proclaiming it right then and there. Who was he even talking to? What is he getting out of this? All he could do in response to these questions was lean in closer to her, a whisper’s distance from her surface, thumb grazing her cracked physique.
I just wish… I wish I was plastic too. he hushed his mind, pathetic. If he said it aloud it would’ve certainly come out a whimper, solemn and weak.
His mind raced searching for thoughts as if he was in a conversation with anyone but himself. As if he was composing a posthumous letter, a proclamation of death – as if he could even die like this. He was being tortured to live.
Maybe if I were plastic too… he gulped, dry and quick, …We could mesh and melt into one.
His thumb slowed, pressing into what would be her cheek.
And we could share in your permanent slumber.
Both his hands snaked down her sides and clasped her hips. There was a faint squelch let out from his grasp, accompanied by faint crackles of her body attempting to break down again. Nothing new to him.
He was caught in a subservient stare, glaring weakly at her shattered body like a wet dog. Pathetically, he winced in the pain of acknowledging how alone and desperate he felt. Though this wasn’t entirely a pity party for himself in his mind. Pin has suffered more than he could ever imagine.
Now he knows what it’s like to be trapped in the unknown. Did this truly count as being alive? Where was that line drawn? What other words could describe this experience other than mental anguish…?
I’m sorry I let you down, let us down. No – the whole Bunch down. I wish I was a better teammate. Maybe you wouldn’t have been eliminated, maybe you wouldn’t have ended up down here with me.
His fingers clutched. Was he being selfish? Was he allowed to apologise anymore?
Maybe then I'd have believed you when you said we’d stay friends.
He bit his tongue – though he wasn’t using it, he felt like it still deserved discipline. He sat there attached to her like a parasite, he could feel his mind begrudgingly betray him the longer he looked at her so at peace. He envied it.
The vulnerability.
His dreary eyes struggled to remain open for much longer, he yearned to join her in slumber. A longing to be rid of this all, after all this anguish and testing of his fortitude.
He had passed out more times than he could count on his fingers while down here, but was always afraid of falling asleep completely. The idea that if he closed his eyes for too long, Pin could crumble away without Coiny there to intervene – it kept him alert and dedicated. It was a testament to his devotion to her.
But he couldn’t keep that up any longer.
Nothing could shake how much he yearned for her embrace.
He took one final nod. A nod of acceptance, yet also defeat. He wished to join her.
His head angled down as he shut his eyes, a seal of approval. His hands, still viced onto her, began to slide down her body. He could feel his body betray him. But whatever happened afterwards would be out of his hands.
Finally, he let himself rest. Desire won.
Perhaps in his dream he’ll see her again.
Maybe she’ll be smiling too.
Maybe it’d make up for the possibility of her no longer being there when he reopens his eyes.
His body lifelessly drifted closer. There was a significant lean… almost purposeful. His aching hands could only twitch while he dozed, his grip loose yet held in place. Plastic had melded over his fingers, fusing them with her waist. It’s all he could have ever wanted.
To become part of her, combining with her very being…
Being in this lava has been hellish. Sure, he’s metal, he can withstand it without dying. But the pressure and intensity is just the right amount of uncomfortable yet liveable that makes you wish you couldn’t survive. It was sensory overload, it made his head pound.
But that’s OK now.
Everything is OK now.
You’re asleep now, Coiny.
We both are.
His frail body tilted more and more… Their foreheads are barely apart.
Though unconscious, it’s like his body had a mind of its own, failing him. His hands clutched desperately into her, like he was searching for her heart.
His mouth was parched and scarred from the magma’s intense heat. It draped daringly open, welcoming.
And that lean of his hadn’t stopped yet.
He only got closer… and closer… and…
Crackle.
S H A T T E R.
Pin exploded into tiny shrapnel, scattering across the lava, then…
She faded away.
Coiny’s very being shook from the impact, his eyes shooting open with the same energy as his body spiking backwards. Everything he had held onto for months had disintegrated faster than he could say goodbye.
“NO! Don’t go!” he gasped, petrified.
He shot his hand out, but there was no one to reach out to anymore. Not a trace was left behind. His fingers timidly curled back into his palm, rubbing it to sooth his nerves.
There was a fear-stricken look in his eyes, like his entire world had just fallen apart. His head pounded to the same beat as his heart, he was somehow shakier than he had ever been before. He couldn’t bear the thought that he’d be forced to live down here for eternity – ALONE. Not even by choice, the world just couldn’t give him the grace to go out on his own terms. Cruel.
“Who would–” He hyperventilated, as if he was searching for air through the lava. His eyes finally managed to focus after tearlessly glaring at the empty space before him. “–Huh?” His head angled up.
There was a flag. A familiar flag. That same blue holographic tint, that poorly rendered spinning figure–
“–Book?”
His eyes twitched with ferocity as his vision darkened.
No.
No No No NO.
THOSE FREESMARTERS ARE STILL MESSING WITH HER?
YOU… I…
He couldn’t even find the words.
His body tensed, if he had half a mind he’d stop to think. But there was nothing but revenge on the mind. Nothing but a sense of shock. Pin was right – OF COURSE SHE WAS RIGHT – those Freesmarters have nothing but hate in their heart.
Of course a Freesmarter would want to toy with her even after she was out of their hair, she wasn’t even competing anymore!
And they still want to torture her.
This was personal.
He seethed with rage, his face scrunching up. If he saw Book right now he’d give her a piece of his mind–
–FLASH. A cartoonish graphic gleamed the words ‘SWAP’ behind him.
Instantaneously, and miraculously, he was resurfaced. Lava dripped from his extremities and trailed down his scorched metal surface. His first instinct was to spin his head around.
“No! Pin?” He scowled, gritting his teeth as his breath got more shallow and fast, his chest pounding.
Of course she didn’t do this – no one recovered her. Typical. But he had to check.
“–Where did she…?”
His eyes widened and zoned in towards the winding glass bridge ahead of him. It was gorgeous, a rainbow twinge bounced off its surface from the moonlight. It was solid ground. Fragile, sure, but solid, something he hadn’t seen in months.
“Up and awayyy~!” That distinct, shrill voice cheered. Book blasted off using soda rockets and a carefully crafted paper airplane constructed from her own materials – crafty. She was always clever.
Who could’ve known she had an edge though… Taking Pin away. She’ll pay for that.
“BOOK…” His voice boomed. It was like the world shook by his rage.
Beside him laid a familiar object. A drill. Without any hesitation he kicked a foot underneath its base and clapped both his hands in between the cavities of its protruding edge.
He paused for a moment, his breaths slowed in pace, becoming more level. His remaining foot slid backwards, angling, locking into a better grip. It was like he was possessed, in an instant he knew exactly what he wanted to do – what he had to do.
He readied the drill under his frail arms, like a jousting lance. He was going to be Pin’s knight.
Refusing to even do so much as blink, he puffed out air, swung the drill’s weight with what strength he had left–
And he leapt, launching him faster than he’s moved for months. Soft but quick pitter patters echoed throughout the air as he scaled the bridge with one goal in mind:
AVENGE PIN.
