Common sense and reason dictated that Golf Ball should *absolutely* stay away from this place; but if she's learned *anything* from the Battle for Dream Island, it's that basically everything defies logic.
At a glance, Yoyle City seemed like the *perfect* place for her and her... assistant to conduct their hard work and study; a massive abandoned ruin, left to decay and rot for many years, unknown and untouched by anyone for 2,763 years (give or take) until its chance rediscovery during their mad dash to summit Yoyle Mountain. Inside every building's husk was a story, a story of a world that formed, flourished, floundered and fatally destroyed itself long before living objects were ever a thing. All sorts of strange artifacts, curious-looking trinkets, ancient texts recording forgotten histories, and all sorts of other exciting discoveries and whatnot were just *waiting* to unfold, waiting to be found. GB once envisioned herself spending the rest of her days here, barely being able to uncover even a hundredth of the wonders and mysteries that were just laying out in the open.
There's just one snag, though: that 'abandoned' part was only half-true nowadays.
Golf Ball fumbled a bit while turning her flashlight on, haphazardly attached to the top of her head with tape and ambition. She took a cautionary look around, making sure that nothing had been changed or disturbed since the last time she was there. She carefully made her way through, making sure to stick to all the well-traveled paths, only clambering and kicking things away when she *really* needed to get somewhere. These things had been gathering dust and rust for who knows how long now; it's best not to touch these things unless you *really* know what you're doing. Though she'd wandered around this place several dozen times by this point, her pace remained slow and methodical; her eyes always looking ahead, her ears always tuned to the sounds of possible structural collapse or any other undesirable occurrences. One step, then another. The left foot, then the right. So on and so forth until she finally reached what she was looking for: a little alcove, a corner tucked away and distant from everything else, filled with all sorts of neat metal bits and pieces with varied purposes and uses.
Some time ago, the decision was made that everyone was to set up shop at Yoyle City and start a new life. It was to be a clean slate, with absolutely no battling for anything whatsoever, and with every day being an entirely new adventure. Golf Ball was fine with all that... for a time; she'd dealt with these know-nothing fools for years now, so they were a manageable, albeit persistent, itch she just couldn't scratch. But they *just* weren't content with the freedom they now had. Not satiated with the massive playground that they had all to themselves. GB would wake up one day to find an area she'd specifically cordoned off for studying with fresh sets of footprints all over the place, or interesting objects with historical and scientific value being used like toys. After a series of arguments and shouting matches between her and everyone else (at some point or another), she'd be forced farther and farther out into the empty parts of the city, where all that existed was herself, her thoughts, and existential dread.
Then there was FreeSmart. Those *traitors*. More than once did they show up where they weren't welcome, made fun of all her *very* important work, and for the most part were just a general nuisance. The sphere would see them every once in a while, waving their cameras around (which they didn't even use properly, but she wasn't gonna tell them that), talking to nobody in particular, having *fun*. Frivolous things like that. Meanwhile, she was out here working day and night on matters of actual importance; methods and means to carry them out of this horrible, dreary existence and bring them to some sort of golden age, whether they wanted it or not. Nobody except her... *accomplice* could ever hope to comprehend the size, scale, and scope of what she was doing, but FreeSmart were especially obnoxious due to how much they *flaunted* their ignorance. They even have a *van*, for crying out loud; a fully-functioning vehicle, a marvel of modern (well, at the time) engineering and development, and they were just using it for joyrides around the same abandoned avenues. That thing could be used for so much more! It could explore the farthest corners of the globe, go to places they had once only *dreamed* of, perhaps permanently escape that speaker box or whoever else dares to make them compete for some make-believe island. The possibilities were endless! And yet everyone was so content with the mundane. The ordinary. The *boring*.
