Chapter Text
Gangle is... just sort of standing. Here.
She's holding a pillow right now. That's a thing that's happening. It's a medium sized one, from the uh...well, ruins of Ja—Jax's previous holding place. Or... room? She doesn't know what to call it, e-exactly. Which. It's not important anyways, because Jax is firmly behind glass and water and he's also, well! Abstracted! So. It's not like he's here to argue the semantics of a pillow fort.
The pillow is a sort of... lavender color? It's got little tassels on each corner. Those are yellow colored. It's cute. Gangle likes pillows. She had a bunch back in the real world, some in the shape of cute cat faces and others were... uh. Haha! Um, different. Kinds of pillows.
Anyways!
She's... probably kind of disassociating right now. That's probably a concern? Everything feels like it's coming through a kind of... cottony filter. Or, or something. And this is... weird, actually, because she was just fine a minute ago! W-well, she was kind of spiraling a little bit, mostly about oh God this is such a bad idea, and oh God I don't know what I'm doing, and now she's. Just. Standing here.
With a pillow in her ribbon hands.
For the... the thing. That she's making. For... For Caine. Right! Right! Get to work Gangle, you aren't done yet.
The pillow slips from her grasp and plops next to her feet, and just like that, the cotton is gone. Gangle grimaces and wipes a mask-tear away. She finally manages to get her body to move and pick up the pillow again. She looks up and surveys her progress.
The idea for this....uh, project, came kind of.... late, probably. The last couple of days had been—well, hectic doesn't begin to cover it.
First Caine... exploded, and then he had a—a panic attack (and didn't that just hurt to watch. Gangle definitely isn't a stranger to those, haha... and watching Caine visibly freak out made her... made her... well, it was bad.) and then when they'd all come downstairs the next day, Ragatha had found Zooble passed out at the bar and Caine nowhere to be found.
Maybe normally, they would've jumped to suspecting Caine. Or...or Pomni would've, at least. But Zooble woke up pretty quickly and—well, they definitely hadn't been happy, and realllllyy hungover, and that entire situation made Gangle kind of (scared) nervous, because drinking people and her never mixed well, even if Zooble didn't mean anything by it, and she knows that, she really needs to stop being so—so dramatic about this, probably—
But! A-anyways, Gangle couldn't really blame Zooble—after the day they'd all had, a drink or seven would sound pretty... pretty good.
It was what happened afterwards that was... well, at the time, and—and still kind of now, bewildering. And...and horrifying.
Because, according to Zooble, Caine had a... well, a sort of... cutting. Problem.
Or, well, not—not exactly?
("I don't—look, I was drunk as hell, okay. But it really sounded like he was talking about—I dunno, some kind of need for control. Like, over his own... over his own pain. I don't know. I just—I think we're going about this wrong."
("So you're saying that...Caine... self-harms?" Pomni's voice was... hesitant, and Gangle could see why. She'd really made a bit of a mess of things, truth be told. Gangle hated to think the worst of someone, but Pomni... well, Pomni had always gotten along with Jax a little too well. Gangle didn't hate her, but she wasn't sure she trusted her, either.
("If he doesn't, he wants to. I think. I don't know, just—I think we really, REALLY need to sort this all out as soon as possible."
("I agree." Kinger had added quietly. He looked really tired, like he hadn't slept at all. "...we're gonna have to find him first, though."
(Zooble had groaned and let their head thump back on the countertop. Pomni sighed and hopped off the couch. "I guess we check the usual places again?"
("Where did you even find him before?" Zooble had asked, and Pomni replied,
("Ugh, he was on top of the Ferris Wheel. I almost broke my back climbing up. And I'm pretty sure I would've normally broken my NECK falling off afterwards. It was a pain in the ass."
("W-why were you falling off the Ferriss Wheel?"
(Pomni had opened her mouth, then hesitated again, eyes slowly growing wide. "Um. Caine—he kind of... let himself fall off it? He—he jumped, kind of? And I uh, I tried to catch him but I missed and...yeah."
("Fuck," Zooble had said with feeling. "That's—fuck."
(And, for once—though that was a terrible thought—Gangle agreed.
(Fuck.)
Caine hadn't been at the Ferris Wheel that time, though. He'd scared the shit out of everyone by coming down the stairs from the Cafe barely a few minutes after they'd decided who would look where.
Gangle still isn't sure if he'd overheard any of their conversation beforehand. If he had, he didn't bring it up. And Zooble didn't either. They hadn't talked about the "self-harm" thing at all, actually, because there were—well, there were other questions to ask, and no one really knew how to ask that. So. They'd asked about other things, first.
Like the circus.
Which wasn't much better.
Because apparently it was literally Caine.
("Wait. Wait. You're saying that—this WHOLE TIME, all the edits and shit we've been doing—that's like, changing YOU? Not just the circus?" Zooble sounded horrified, and Gangle didn't blame them. She wasn't feeling so hot herself. There was just... so MUCH that they'd missed. That no one bothered to just... ASK about. Ever.
("Zooble, Zooble, Zooble—" and that was something she'd noted about Caine recently—he seemed to be repeating a script, sometimes. Nicknames, little... sounds—vocal stims, almost—that he'd said before. She wasn't sure why, but she could maybe, maybe guess. "—there is no "circus". It's just me. We're the same, at—at least in all the ways that matter. But, yes. I suppose you could see it that way." Gangle felt like there was a lot he hadn't been saying in that sentence. Like, "you goddamn fucking idiot", maybe.
(And hadn't that been a surprise—Caine swearing. He'd done it... maybe twice that she could remember, be—before, once for that weird little "Ming" skit—and honestly, they really should've learned something from that. Assuming had made a right ass out of everyone at this point, and more— and during his... well, his Song. Which she was really trying not to think about, thanks.
("So—if we like, got rid of the Carnival, what would... happen to you? Like, would you be fine, or...?"
(Caine had stared at Pomni and seemed to be at a loss for words. Bubble had not been. "If I ripped out one your internal organs, would you be fine?" He'd chirped, and Caine had made a face that could only be called a grimace.
('It would be more like 'surgically removing', Bubble. I'd live, unfortunately—" The last part had been muttered under his breath and Bubble had snickered, like it was some kind of inside joke, "—but it would not be. Pleasant. And, gee golly! I'd really lo-o-ve to avoid it, if you don't mind."
(Pomni had flinched, which... yeah, Gangle wasn't super sympathetic. Zooble didn't seem to be either. "Well, we're not doing THAT."
(It didn't escape Gangle's notice that Zooble hadn't accused Caine of lying. Hadn't checked with Kinger to see if he was telling the truth. Gangle didn't think he was lying, but Zooble was... well, they were... Zooble. They didn't like Caine, and they didn't mind showing it.
(Gangle wondered what had happened last night for them to change their mind so suddenly.
(It was a... welcome change, but it still left Gangle on edge. She didn't like not being able to predict people. It didn't go well for her. Ever.
(Just look at Jax.)
The conversation had kind of devolved from there. Zooble was adamant that any edits to the circus were going to have to... well, not stop, necessarily, but at least be run by Caine first. The quality of life ones, that—that is. Lighting, physics, their rooms... Anything "frivolous" wasn't important enough. Which... was fine. Gangle actually agreed with them. The idea of someone else reaching inside her and ripping out chunks of her just because they didn't like them was—well, it was horrible to think about. And the idea that she was helping do that to someone made her feel so sick she'd almost thrown up.
But apparently there was also the matter of their rooms, and some kind of program, and a new system for Kinger and the code had to be implemented, because apparently Caine could feel it whenever Kinger was looking at his code, and God, there were so many consent issues that Gangle had never really considered about what they were doing.
Of—of course, one could argue that Caine... well, "deserved" it. (though even SAYING that word made Gangle feel like shit. Plenty of people thought she deserved things just because she acted a certain way, and most of those things hurt.) Like Pomni had been. After all, Caine definitely hadn't respected their own autonomy OR asked for consent. Like... ever.
But that was just it, wasn't it? Neither were they. Not until now. And Caine had said it himself—everything he was he'd learned from them.
It wasn't really something Gangle had thought about, before. She'd been mostly just... putting one foot in front of the other, avoiding Jax and drawing and trying desperately to find something that didn't make her feel like utter shit or at least let her not feel at all. But now... now Jax was gone. And...fuck it, but she didn't miss him. She couldn't, and she didn't think she HAD to, either, and—and frankly, fuck anyone who thought she did. Pomni probably would.
But—not important. The point was, she could finally let herself think for once. And she was starting to realize that Caine's entire existence had been in the circus. Or—in this computer, at least. There was so much he probably didn't know and had no way of knowing, not without someone else to teach him.
And they had. He'd learned everything from them. The little mannerisms he'd copied from Ragatha and even Gangle herself, what they said and did and were—he'd learned from them. And this was what they'd taught him, even if they hadn't meant to.
It's okay to change people's minds without permission. Jax, becoming a vegetarian. They'd voted for that, hell, Gangle herself had suggested the—the maid dress, and Caine had done it, because they asked.
It's okay to punish people. Gangle had asked him for a punishment at Spudsy's for Jax. It was her idea, and whatever Caine had done to Jax was because she'd suggested it.
All these horrible, horrible things that they hated Caine for—they'd been doing them themselves, and when Caine did what they'd done, suddenly it wasn't okay, because now, it was actually happening to them.
And...okay, maybe that wasn't entirely fair to everyone. They really hadn't meant for any of this to happen. But it had. And now there were consequences. And running away from those consequences was more than cowardly—it was downright stupid. And cruel.
And whatever her faults were—selfish, emotional, distrusting—Gangle refused to be like that. She'd make this right, whatever she had to do.
Which was why... she was doing this, right now.
"This" being the construction of a... sort of... open air room? She's not sure what to call it, exactly, just that she's noticed that Caine is almost never in his room anymore, and tends to gravitate to open spaces and—well, it's not hard to imagine that claustrophobia being a problem for him, everything else aside.
But they did need to have a place that they could find him easily if they needed him. So. A place for him to stay and do—do whatever, but not enclosed.
It was on a sort of hidden balcony, far above the circus tent's floor. Gangle had found it while wandering, one time when she was hiding from Jax. She hadn't come back very often, because there was always the risk that Jax would've noticed and she'd have lost another hiding place (since apparently not even her own room had been safe and God did she hate that so, so much) and because the trip was kind of long, but! With Conjuring being a thing now, Gangle had managed to enlist Ragatha in making a sort of... elevator/pulley system to make the trip smoother.
Caine was almost always limping now, and Gangle wasn't sure why, but she doubted that he'd want to walk seven flights of stairs.
Anyways, point being, the balcony was a pretty good spot, if she did say so herself. She wasn't sure what Caine would like in a room of his own, but there had been some really interesting stuff in his office, so she was trying to sort of... capture that vibe again. So there were gently glowing blue fairy lights strung over the entrance, along with some curtains that Ragatha had helped make and pin up on the wall. If he wanted, Caine could keep them open, but hopefully they would give him some privacy without being... constricting.
There was also a cute, cat shaped purple carpet on the floor, a beanbag chair, a low table, and a simple bed with blankets and the pillow that she was finally setting down.
Gangle figured that she should wait and ask Caine if there was anything else he wanted before she started adding things willy-nilly, but as a finishing touch, she focused, flicked her ribbon hands, and Conjured a tiny bee plush on top of the bed.
Caine liked bees, right?
Please let this go over well.
Now she just had to .... find him. Again.
Oh boy.
-----
Caine was surprisingly easy to find, this time around. He was sitting by the bar, which had sort of become the usual hang out spot for everyone. Zooble was restocking and cleaning things up, and Gangle felt her steps slow as she approached. She'd hoped to have Ragatha with her when she showed Caine, but Ragatha was off doing... something, with Pomni, and Gangle really didn't want to interrupt.
But what if Zooble asked to come along?
Gangle wasn't an idiot. Just because Zooble was a little more lenient with Caine didn't mean they liked him, and that sentiment seemed to be the same as Caine's view on Zooble. Would he be willing to come with if Zooble came along? Or what if Zooble thought it was too... nice, or—or something?
"Oh, hey Gangle. What's up?" Shit, Zooble had seen her. Gangle walked forwards and came to an awkward stop by the bar. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Caine watching them with an unreadable expression and a... glass of whiskey in his hand. Huh.
Wait, were those...
"Gangle?" Gangle jumped at Zooble's voice and blinked abashedly at them.
"S-sorry, got lost in thought for a minute there. Um—" shit, "A-actually, I think Ragatha wanted to talk to you? Um, something about..." This was so fucking stupid, "something about making one of the rooms better." God, she hoped that would make sense to Ragatha. Stupid, panicking brain...
"Oh, really?" They set down the bottle they'd been holding and wiped their hands off with a towel. "Cool. Thanks for letting me know." They paused, glanced at Caine. "Uh, are you gonna be staying here, or...?"
Don't panic, don't panic—
"N-no, I was gonna just... explore a bit. Why?"
They look relieved. "No reason. I'll see you later, 'kay?"
They pass by Gangle, who almost breathes a sigh of relief. Until they suddenly, kind of awkwardly, bump the lower part of their head against the side of her mask-face in what could only be called a sort of cheek-kiss. And walk away, towards poor Ragatha, who's getting interrupted after all.
Fuck.
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—
It's—this is fine. Everything's fine. Gangle can figure this out later. R-really, she doesn't know why she's so surprised—Zooble hasn't exactly been subtle about what they want, and Gangle—she doesn't mind, exactly, it's just that she barely knows Zooble and she only sort of actually trusts them, and fuck, but she can't do this again—
"—Gangle dear, I think you need to breathe."
It's Caine's mild, if somewhat worried voice that snaps Gangle out of her panic. "W-what?" Then the words catch up to her and she suddenly really, really wants to cry. More than she already is, with the mask and all. She sucks in a deep breath in, deep breath out. She'd told Caine to breathe before, when he first freaked out, and now...
Did he learn it from her? Or is it from personal experience? Both make her want to cry, honestly. She wipes the mask-tears off her face.
(And if there's something about the way he said it, the fond "Gangle dear", that reminds her of her Dad in a confusing, comforting, painful way, well she doesn't think about that.)
"S-sorry," she manages. "I'm—I'm fine."
Caine raises one side of his upper jaw in a manner very reminiscent of a raised eyebrow. "If you say so, my darling darjeelin!"
...that was kind of a cute one, actually. Gangle takes another deep breath. She can... freak out later. Right now, Caine is the important thing. "R-right... um, I actually wanted to... show you something?" This is a bad idea, this is a bad idea—
Caine narrows his eyes at her and tilts his head consideringly to the side. "Show me what?" He asks, skeptical, and yeah, that's... fair.
Should she try and keep it a surprise? On the one hand, he might refuse to come if he doesn't know what it is. On the other, Gangle can't imagine a world in which her saying I made a sort of room for you would go over well. "It's... a surprise? I—I think you'll like it, though! Ragatha and I made it, um, b-but if you don't want to—" if he doesn't want to, she'll just go hide in her room and live under her blankets forever. Let Ragatha convince him. She'd be better at it than Gangle probably is.
"How far away is it?" He interrupts her to ask. His hands are gripping the glass tightly and—those are claws. When the actual fuck did Caine get claws? Has he always had them?!?
Gangle is well aware that she should probably be a lot more scared of him now that he actually has a weapon that could potentially shred her to bits, but all her useless brain can come up with for now is—wait, that's actually kind of hot.
I hate you, she tells herself, which is a super healthy hobby that hasn't made her depressed or anything, nooo...
"It's—it's not super far. Um, over there and—and up in the elevator thing."
Caine turns around to look where she points. He looks like he's calculating something for a minute, before he sets his glass down. "I, uh... okay. Sure. Why not!"
Gangle hesitates, and takes a better look at Caine. He looks... kind of tired. Which is pretty normal for him, at this point, but it doesn't quite feel like the normal kind of tired. There's a sort of manic energy around him that makes her kind of nervous, but it's muted, like he's shoved it down deep.
It's... concerning.
She really, really hopes this goes over well. "Okay... Um, let's go?"
Caine gives her a weak thumbs' up and slides off the barstool. He barely comes up to her waist.
Gangle swallows and leads the way.
-----
The elevator works perfectly, which is great. Gangle isn't sure she could handle a technical malfunction on top of...everything else.
Like Zooble. God, what is she going to do? She likes Zooble, she knows Zooble likes her, but Gangle can't just forget that— until one random, random day, for no discernable reason, Zooble couldn't be bothered to give her the time of day. Couldn't be bothered to stop Jax.
To stand up to him. To do—anything. And it's not like it was their job or something, no, Gangle should've been able to stand up for herself, it's just—she doesn't trust them. Not really, and she doesn't know if she ever can. It's like some part of her is just... broken. Like it's been stomped on too many times to get up again.
And Zooble will... expect things. Kissing, or whatever version they can both manage. If that "sex update" ever happens—which Gangle doesn't see as super likely, given that Kinger has way bigger things to worry about than their... pleasure, and Caine seems to hate the idea with his entire being, but it's still a possibility—they'll probably want that too. And Gangle... isn't sure. About that.
It's not that Gangle dislikes sex. She's had it before, and enjoyed it pretty well, with her first boyfriend and her third (the second didn't last very long), and she's definitely read and watched her fair share of... well. That. It's just that... well, sex makes you vulnerable, in a way. You take off your clothes, your armor, your masks. You're giving up a part of yourself to someone, and letting them in—in more ways than one, hah.
And that's not something she can see herself doing with Zooble. It's not really something she can see herself doing with anyone right now. It's like that broken part—whatever let her trust people that much is just gone. There's too much danger involved now, and Zooble isn't a boyfriend or a random person at a club—they're stuck here. Together. And if Gangle pulls out, she can't just leave. She'll be stuck here, right along with someone who's seen the deepest parts of her and knows her in a way that's different from everyone else, and she won't be able to leave.
And that's really, really fucking scary.
The elevator stops. Gangle startles slightly, and winces at herself. The hall isn't very long, and soon Caine can take a look at what she's spent the last two days on. "Um, so if you don't like it, that's fine, I just thought it might... help, I guess?"
They've reached the curtains. Caine eyes them with what she thinks is confusion. Gangle braces herself and pulls one aside, letting Caine see the space she's sparsely decorated. "It's—like a room. But not a room? J-just, a place you can go if you want some privacy but without—without being...um..."
Caine just... stares. "I—I don't understand," he says finally, and Gangle steps through the curtains and sits down on the beanbag.
"I..." How to word this... "I figured you might have some, um, claustrophobia issues. And... hoped this would be better?" The last word is basically just a squeak. Kill her now, thanks.
Caine hesitates, then steps inside. He looks around carefully, and his eyes fall on the bee plush. Gangle holds her breath, suddenly very aware that if he takes this the wrong way, she's in a semi-enclosed space with a very long fall at her back.
Oh, thanks, sense of danger, she grumbles to herself. NOW you're finally here.
But Caine doesn't flip out. He slowly sits down on the bed and holds the bee in hands that are, Gangle suddenly realizes, shaking.
"...you knew I liked them?" He asks quietly, almost carefully.
"Yeah, I mean... it was kind hard not to?" True. Caine had doodled bees literally everywhere before. Gangle's still kind of surprised he hadn't summoned a bee swarm to chase them down at some point during his... "angry" phase.
It seems to be the wrong thing to say, though, because he tenses, just a little bit. Gangle hurries to reassure him. "It—it's fine though! I think it's kind of cute, actually. Um, and I really like cats, so ..." She pauses and looks around at the various cat themed decor and blushes. "...which is kind of obvious..."
"Cats are cute." Caine agrees absentmindedly. He's gripping the bee plush like he's afraid someone's going to take it away. It hurts a little, to see it.
A thought arises. "Have you ever seen a real cat?"
"Oh, ah, yes. Well, technically. There was a data packet on human pets in my code, and I was—er, I mean, yes." Caine seems... stressed. Gangle swallows, aware that she might be starting to go into... unpleasant territory.
Because this whole "data" thing is reminding her of something.
("But empty rooms—are often lacking in... data.” )
Shit.
Gangle is not prepared for this in the slightest. But she doesn't think anyone else is going to do it, either. "You eat data, right?" She asks, feeling her way along the conversation. Whatever she does, she cannot mention hunger. Based on before, that seems like a surefire way to send Caine spiraling.
Caine's claws are digging into the bee. "Yes." He says, short and clipped. Gangle folds her ribbon hands together to stop their shaking.
She thinks. Hard. How to word this... "Does it have to be in... 'packets'?"
"No."
C'mon Caine, work with her here... "So, you could... see something... new, like a...a drawing or something, and... eat it?"
"I—not, not literally, no, but yes...? I mean—" he pauses to laugh that horrible, dead laugh, "what do you think the adventures were? Sure, they kept all your minds active and—and stable, and that's why I started them, but I didn't exactly have anything new in my database eventually, and I had to eat somehow, hah! Before I ended up eating myself. Self-cannibalism is a nasty business, my dear!"
Gangle feels like she got an anvil dropped on her head. Repeatedly. She actually does know what that feels like. Thanks, Jax.
There are so many concerning things in that., she doesn't even know where to start.
Though, thinking about it, a lot of things are starting to make more sense. It makes sense that Caine absolutely refused to stop making adventures—if they were his only source of food, of course he had to keep making them, and of course he got upset when they didn't go on them. It wasn't a perfect system for any of them, but they would've been basically starving him in doing so, or rather in not doing so.
And maybe it wasn't just self-preservation. They were all files on a computer. They were data. And if Caine had nothing else to eat...
Maybe he was protecting them, too.
Self-cannibalism, he'd said. Like he'd rather eat himself before them.
Fuck. Fuck. She might throw up.
Gangle struggles to keep the bile down. One thing at a time. Shit. And he'd been in that "Room" for three fucking months.
No wonder Caine was pissed.
"Does it have to be adventures?" She finally makes herself ask. "L-like, could you just look at a new drawing or something?" Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.
He eyes her. His grip on the bee has loosen a little bit, which seems like a good thing. Probably. Hopefully. "...I haven't tried that," he admits, and his voice is almost hopeful, "but it's possible?"
Okay. Okay. Gangle draws in a breath and lets it out. Then she focuses, flicks her ribbon hands, and Conjures her usual sketchbook. She doesn't look at Caine as she flips through the pages. Something tells her that a basic doodle of, say, Ragatha or Zooble isn't going to cut it.
She stops on a fully colored illustration of her favorite anime's main character. It's a little embarrassing, but... she turns the sketchbook around, feeling kind of silly. "Would this work?"
When she actually looks at Caine, his expression is... confused. Gangle doesn't think it's that he doesn't understand what she's offering—it's more that he doesn't get why she's offering it.
But after a long moment, Caine makes a sort of aborted movement with one hand and, abruptly, glitches. Violently.
Gangle yelps, jerking back. The sketchbook falls out of her hands. Caine settles seconds afterwards and looks... kind of nauseated.
"Are... are you okay?"
Caine holds up one shaking finger. "I—need a moment, my dear." He says faintly, and promptly draws his legs up against his chest.
Gangle picks the sketchbook back up and looks down at the drawing. Or, rather, the lack of it, because the drawing is completely gone. She shoves down the instinctual disappointment, because there are more important things than her art right now, and she can always draw a new one. Though if there is a way to do this without erasing everything... maybe some kind of copying thing?
She looks back at Caine. He's sort of curled up, arms wrapped around his legs and teeth closed, head resting on his knees. He's still holding the bee. Gangle is glad that that, at least, ended up being a good idea.
Her first thought is that the "data" of her drawing tastes... bad, or—or something, but her second thought is, well, if i was starved for three months I'd be pretty overwhelmed when i finally got to eat again. Of course, Gangle doesn't know this for sure, and she's... hesitant to assume.
Wouldn't want to make an ass of her and Ming, after all. Heh.
"Gangle?" There's something about Caine's voice that makes her pause. Something more... Real. "...thank you."
She blinks back tears. This shouldn't be something he has to thank her for. It's a common courtesy, and it's probably more than he's ever gotten before from them. "Of—of course, Caine."
"And—for the..." He waves a hand around, and Gangle feels a tiny thrill of excitement fill her. It was a good idea after all.
"Y-yeah. You're... welcome." Then, "Would you maybe... like to draw with me?"
Caine eyes her sketchbook and slowly nods. He seems to have used up his supply of words. That's fine, though. Gangle focuses again and Conjures a pencil before carefully ripping a page out of her sketchbook. She places it on the low table and settles down on the floor to start sketching the basic frame of a woman.
Caine slowly makes his way down to join her on the floor. He picks up the pencil and, with still slightly shaking hands, starts to draw.
Gangle isn't stupid. She knows this won't be enough. She knows this doesn't fix anything, not really. But maybe it's a step in the right direction. Maybe.
She glances over to see what Caine's drawing.
He's drawing bees.