Chapter Text
This fic was created by two authors! Me (C-Cashew) and my bestie (E-Elijah) :]
you will see authors notes here throughout.
This fic was originally posted on Wattpad and was formatted for Wattpad, so there'll probably be mistakes and things here.
(C- also this is my first time ever using A03 so bear with me guys)
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Chapter 1:
Suitcase stood in the newly formed HOOT building, staring at the beautifully placed wooden beams that lined themselves up in front of her. The dark-greyish brown pieces carved into perfection by nothing. The rest of the room was constructed from light. Wood, created from trees that don't exist, surrounded her, curving themselves into walls and seats.
But really she could only focus on the three fake beams in front of it all.
It was all fake.
Including her.
To think her- and her entire world was born of that extraterrestrial ball of light. She didn't think she'd ever get over that realization.
'He made you.'
That sentence would never leave her mind, that voice would never die.
Well… even if it was fake, everything was so real now. Death was real now, and something to fear. Suitcase had to make sure death would never come back. It was her duty, as all the other objects immediately pushed her and the other winners into a position of power. To rein over them all. The idea was overwhelming, but Suitcase couldn't step down. Not now. Not ever. They all looked up to her. The girl never noticed how badly her legs shook until she was about halfway down the way to the beams, each climbing taller and taller as she approached. She now noticed that in the center of all three were carved a single letter, one for each of the winners.
O, for OJ, the winner of the first season and the general caretaker of them all.
S, For Suitcase herself, winner of the second season and the one who apparently had the “worst” of them all.
And C, for Cabby, the third winner, the one who forgot and was forgotten about. Suitcase didn't really know her, but she figured she wouldn't cause any trouble. She seemed too anxious about herself and her own actions to be in a situation where she could hinder others.
The short object stared at them all, only now noticing that hers, the one in the center, was taller than the other two. Glimmering in the artificial light that prided itself on the crown of the ceiling. Did that… mean something? Or was it just interior design? Would it mean that she was above even OJ and Cabby? She held more power? Interesting…
Suitcase held a neutral smile of sorts, stepping up the small set of stairs onto the stage where the podiums were, moving the stand behind hers and glaring down at the rest of the room. A sort of overwhelming feeling of responsibility took hold on her heart, gripping and tearing at it.
It may have all been fake…
But the feeling was real…
The power was real.
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Suitcase wasn't sure how long she had stood in silence, alone in that room. But when she had stepped out, she found herself greeted by the setting sun, its rays licking the ocean water beneath it. She frowned and glared, squinting her eyes and walking on, as if the beauty ahead of her was nothing. Instead her mind fixated on seeing the other two leaders, she didn't really have a reason to, she just wished to have some socialization at the moment. Especially with everything happening, it was dangerous to try and figure it out alone, with just you and your ever-growing delusional mind.
Everyone else was crowded near the mansion, trying to figure out well… everything. From sleeping schedules to roles everyone had to take on now that Mephone wasn't there to care for them. OJ was obviously in charge of bossing the others around when it came to that, and Cabby was quietly sifting through her files to try and pair each character with the job that fit them best. Suitcase would soon watch her throw the files away, a stupid, yet symbolic gesture towards the others.
Suitcase read the situation very quickly, and moved to stand next to OJ, glazing her eyes across the other objects as they stood in their loss and confusion. Neither OJ nor anyone else made note or acknowledged she was there, they were all too lost in their heads to notice or think much at all. There were moldable subjects.
And the sun set, and set, and set until nothing but the smallest slimmer of light bathed the island. Most everyone was gone now, off to sleep or to set up their jobs or whatever OJ had ordered them to do. The ones who remained never gained a job, for they were too fragile and work may have put them in a situation far too dangerous for anyone's liking. Among those stood Suitcase's old friend, Balloon. But notice how she said old friend. In fact, she wasn't sure she really knew the new Balloon, he had left to do season three, and came back a different person. With different relations, especially with the one she knew for certain was his enemy.
Suitcase would never trust Nickel, not even now.
Suddenly, she felt a tap at her corner.
“Suitcase, would you like to show the rest where the sleeping quarters are? I'm pretty tired and should go check up on Paper. Oh yes, I'm not sure if I've told you but Paper and Pickle are running the sleeping quarters, probably should tell the others that.” OJ said swiftly, waving his arms around and turning to glance down at the shorter object.
Suitcase paused, taking a moment to get out of her trance and process, she then nodded. “That's fine,” she held her head high and started off back towards the HOOT building, not bothering to beckon the others and just expecting them to follow her, which thankfully, they did. Balloon chirped, skipping up to walk beside her. “Wow Suitcase, you're a leader now! Which is great! But… aren't you a bit… worried?” He asked softly, echoing her own thoughts- but she couldn't let him know that.
“Worried? About what?”
“Well, this whole thing! I don't know how we're going to just sustain ourselves like this- and you know… dying and all that? It's permanent now. That worries me.” He whined.
“OJ and Cabby carefully assigned objects to help me keep everyone safe. It'll be fine.” She reassured, smiling up at him. Sure, she was sort of uncomfortable around him- but she figured she wouldn't let that change the fact they were friends. Balloon still had to be the same object, deep down at heart. That's how all objects worked.
They came to the front of the large building just as the sun vanished, and the moonlight took hold of the world. Two wooded, carved doors sat promptly ahead, one already propped open to let in the sweet breeze. Suitcase stood off to the side and watched as the other objects headed inside.
She let her brain fall into an autopilot for a moment, counting the ones that wouldn't contribute anything to this society. Dead weight.
Balloon, he had a weak body, giving him work would be too dangerous, as a blade of grass, or a rock that was sharp enough could kill him.
Bomb, for obvious reasons.
Tissues, we aren't sure now if his illness is contagious, and we don't currently have any medication or things like that.
Lightbulb, her body is made of glass, and her over optimistic character and compulsive actions could prove dangerous.
And Nickel.
Wait,
Nickel?
What was HE doing here?
Suitcase frowned and moved to stand in front of the doorway, blocking him before he could go inside. “What are you doing here? You have a job.” She snapped,her tone far more condescending than she really meant. Nickel shot her a confused glare and a weird smile.
“I was uhhh- just- uhhh- going to get something from my room! For the restaurant!” He said.
“I- hmm,” Suitcase pondered, then made an ‘armless shrugging motion’ and stepped aside. “Whatever, go ahead.”
“Thanks!” He grinned, dashing past her.
Wow, he’s changed so much.
It didn’t make sense to her- how was that the same object that bullied both her and her friend for so long? Just for the fun of it? She grumbled something under her breath and stepped inside, dislodging the piece of plastic holding the door open and letting it close behind her.
Inside the objects stood, chatting quietly among themselves, and awaiting further instruction. None of them really cared to notice the beauty of the interior, nor the wonderful wooden podiums watching over them, above which showed a banner reading “HOOT" in a poorly written font. Suitcase supposed it was mainly OJ’s idea, especially after what happened with him and Paper in that horrible mindscape a while back. She paused, tilting her head. How had she not noticed that before? Perhaps she was too distracted, whatever, it didn’t matter now. She turned to the rest of the objects, then started walking on around them and to a door, hiding itself in the plain brown walls. She didn’t care for talk right now, so she just let the others continue their own conversation as they opened and headed through the door.
On the other side sat a mildly large hall, something painfully similar to the halls that once decorated Hotel OJ, even with an orange rug and everything. It was obvious who took it upon themselves to decorate this room. Suitcase rolled her eyes and pointed to the row of doors along the wall.
Now, to say what she's been practicing for.
“The rooms are unassigned currently, and you guys get first pick!” She cheered, the character coming out of her mouth being the opposite of the character on the inside. Was that unhealthy? She didn’t know. That didn't matter right now, she just needed to finish what she was saying.
“Once you have your pick, please talk to Pickle and Paper, as they are the ones running the sleeping quarters, and if you have any enquiries/requests about the rooms, talk to them!" Suitcase continued, following what she had rehearsed in her mind earlier,
"Any general questions however, please inform me, Cabby or OJ! And thank you for helping us! Welcome to our brand new society, where your total satisfaction is our guarantee!!”
Multiple objects grinned and muttered thank yous, dashing on to look into the rooms and choose their pick. Balloon stayed behind, smiling down at his friend. Suitcase would have said something, but Nickel was standing behind Balloon, only moving to follow him when he did, they entered the same room, laughing about something.
Disgusting.
She shook her head and wondered back out, into the main room, catching her eyes again at the podiums. Why was she so entranced by them? She stared until she heard a door sound behind her, making her twist around to find Cabby rolling in.
“Oh hi Suitcase, how's it going?" Cabby asked, approaching Suitcase.
Suitcase, a little caught off guard, took a second to respond. “It’s going well. We got the others in their rooms, and Nickel is getting something for the restaurant.” She explained, not exactly believing her own words.
“That’s good, I myself am going to head to bed, you should too. It's really late.” Cabby said sweetly, rolling past her and to the hall.
Suitcase nodded. “I will soon,” She promised.
. . .
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[About an hour later]
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Suitcase sat, leaning against the outside wall of the HOOT building. She lay in the crisp grass, watching the stars as they slowly crawled across the stars and stared down at her. They looked like millions of thousands of eyes, all locked on the world, locked on her, watching- judging her. They urged her on, they urged her to be better, they urged her to succeed, to be the best protector any object could ask for. It was the biggest responsibility, and it was all on top of her. She had to be perfect, she couldn’t mess anything up, or someone could get hurt. Even someone close to her. Wait… Nickel wanted to get something from his room? But the rooms were unassigned! What in the world was he getting? It was just an excuse to talk to Balloon, wasn't it. She pressed her legs against her chest, grumbling in some confusion of jealousy and anger.
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[The next morning]
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Suitcase could barely sleep, the weight of everything seemed to turn into a physical weight by the time she tried to fall asleep. She had tossed and turned like a reed in strong winds, unable to really even keep her eyes closed. The room had been warm, abnormally warm. It hurt her head.
The morning was slow and dark, Suitcase could hardly keep her legs straight and strong as she tried to walk out of her room. In the hall she was greeted by Paper, who was tugging the rug aside and mopping the wooden floor underneath it. A pointless task, why clean it if you are just going to cover it up again for nobody to see? Whatever, she was sure Paper had a reason. He smiled at her and waved. “Hey Suitcase! How did you sleep last night?” he chirped.
“I slept well!” She lied, glad to be surrounded by ecstatic energy right away.
“That's good!” He laughed, going back to pushing the mop up and down across the floor.
“Where’s OJ?” She asked after a second, figuring if anyone knew, it’d be Paper.
“Oh! He’s just outside, he was pretty urgent about it. But he didn’t want much panic…” Paper pondered, clearing, cleaning, mopping, having no idea what was going on.
Suitcase blinked, her eyes widening. What had happened? Was it anything bad? Why did nobody wake her up? She nodded and quietly stepped around Paper, heading out of the hallway and through the large room- to the main doors. One was propped open, just like it was the other night.
She wandered through the opening- and there was OJ, Nickel, Baseball, and a few others she didn’t care to take note of- leaning over something in the grass.
Suitcase couldn’t see, but she heard- she heard and she felt a tension in the air. OJ- his back was turned to Suitcase, but thanks to his bit of clear glass- she noticed a bit of his orange was stained, darker than before.
Red.
And the red wasn’t just on OJ, it was everywhere, like it had exploded outward- like it had popped. Like something had been popped. Like someone had been popped.
Several voices barked, all fearful, questioning Nickel
“I-I don't know, I was just talking to him then I…” he said, his voice shaky, and his eyes tear-filled.
From what Suitcase could see, he was shaking, like something mortifying happened. She suddenly gasped, and shoved herself into the circle to see what had happened. And there wasn’t much to see at all, red mixed with red and the bloodied shard of shriveled salmon-coloured latex sat lifelessly in the grass.
It was Balloon.
Her eyes, now slowly overflowing with tears, dashed back and forth, all around to everyone there watching the scene. “What happened?” She snapped. WHY DIDN’T ANYONE GET HER UP? This was HER job. And she had ALREADY FAILED.
Nickel just repeated the same thing he sobbed earlier.
Suitcase clenched her teeth. What was she supposed to do? Her friend couldn't be dead. Balloon couldn't be dead. No. Not forever. She was surrounded to protect him! How could it all go so bad on the first day!? What was this?! OJ placed an arm on her back, making her realize she was hyperventilating.
Her eyes flashed from Balloon, to Nickel, to Balloon, and to Nickel again.
This was his fault.
“What did you do!?!” She screamed. Straightening up and stepping up to Nickel, who shrunk away from her.
“I-i-i didn't do anything! I swear! We were just going on a morning walk-!”
“Is that all that happened?!” She eyed him. How dare he lie like that?! She shouldn't have let himself in the building with the others last night! She shouldn't have let him go in the same room with Balloon last night! How dare he pretend to be different, and sweet and caring and then turn and backstab Balloon like that!?!? How DARE he. HOW DARE HE.
“Wha- I didn't kill him! I would never!” Nickel stuttered, backing away.
Suitcase frowned, not believing him.
“H-hey- uh- Suitcase, I think that's a little far? We can't assume he did something without any evidence?” Baseball interjected, stepping up beside Suitcase.
“I have all the evidence I need.” She countered, turning on Baseball. By now her eyes were nothing but water. Nickel had killed her only friend. And she would never forgive him for that. Never.
“No, Nickel wouldn't- Balloon was his friend!”
“Friend? That's the stupidest thing I ever heard. Nickel HATES Balloon. And objects don't change.” She grumbled, her words starting to drag as they merged into cries and sobs.
“I didn't kill him! I don't know what happened!” Nickel defended, still crying.
But Suitcase couldn't make out any thoughts to say out loud in retaliation. She turned and, with wobbly legs, stumbled around the scene and back inside- heading blindly to her room.
What was happening?
The lake in her eyes simmered like the ocean waves in the light, fearful of someone else seeing them. Her lips, pained and weak, quivered from grief and confusion.
What was happening?
She pushed past the figure of Paper, unaware of him asking why she was crying, and locked herself in her room. The world caved in.
How could death- be so terrible now? About a week ago someone could die and nobody would care. It was like Knife's mentality.
They'd always come back
But now they wouldn't.
He wouldn't.
How could this be?
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(Writers note-E: whoopsies we may have killed balloon ahahah…suitcase is fine.)
(e~bro paper is so happy i hope he stays like that!!! 🥲)
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