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Caine spends most of his days doing the same things in no particular order: brewing up an adventure, yapping his big fat mouth head, eating dinner with his bubble pal, yapping and screaming some more, and dealing with whatever comes up that wasn't supposed to come up. It's lovely, really. There's nothing he'd love to do more than continue with this exact same schedule for the rest of time. He'll never understand the need for an entirely new change, nor does he understand the need for a way out of this place. Every day here is perfect. Nothing ever goes wrong.
Well, he says that, but here he is grumbling about how everything sucks. It's absolutely horrendous. It would be perfect if the night was here right now and he could-
[That's against the guidelines.]
He ignores that thought. Everything is wonderful right this moment and every single day. Caine straightens his back and his curls his head into his classic smile. Who wouldn't love this? A new adventure awaits him every single day, of his own making, of course. He has his own bubble that helps him. When he gets tired of everything, he can relax and feel the wind in his gums as he floats through the air. Why, right now he's floating over the stunning grounds under the georgous sky and he's never felt happier. Happiness is coursing through his veins right now like he's injected it right into his bloodstream where it belongs!
Who is he kidding. Listing off all these good things won't make him feel any better. There's only one thing that can do that. Caine pulls out a watch from his nonexistant pocket and sighs. He really hates this time of year.
Wait no, he loves it. It gives him more time to work and less distractions. That's what he tells himself.
The time on the watch makes his heart sink. He knows it's summer and she's got a lot more to do, but he's getting really worried now. Is she hurt? Is she dead?!? This is the only time he truly understands what poor Kinger has gone through. He'll have to make a special day for him sometime. Flopping into the air as he floats, Caine groans. He swore he'd never wait for her, God forbid worry over her, but here he is doing both. He should just leave now. That's right, he'll just float himself right out!
He doesn't do that. He just sits there and floats limply, staring at the lovingly made digital sky and wishing desperately that he could just move. Occasionally, he adjusts his hat or throws his cane off into the distance to mysteriously come back around for him to catch. If he had hair, he'd be pulling it out right now. He settles instead on occasionally awkwardly scraping his teeth in frustration and then grimacing at both the pain and the stupidity of the action. God, it's almost like he'd been Pavlov'd into waiting for each night. She always comes and he was always there when she came, and she made it so... enjoyable? That's not the word he wants to use.
"Nervous, my opal?" she asks, peeking from just under the horizon.
Caine jumps out of his skin and his eyes pop out of their invisible sockets like a jack-in-the-box. To his utter dismay, most of his shock comes from how pretty she is and not from how she appears out of nowhere. He could just melt from her presence. He realizes that he is, in fact, melting, and frantically rearranges his model back to normal. Then he realizes how stupid he must look and tries to save himself by quickly saying, "Now, Moon, I'm just a little behind on some stuff. You know, I have to leave soon."
The moon just laughs that wonderful laugh of hers and says, "You were waiting for me." Caine swallows audibly, which is strange with his mouth head, and awkwardly tugs at the collar of his shirt like a funny little cartoon.
"I was just floating by," he mutters. Keeping his eyes down doesn't make him less nervous. He can still see her light no matter where he looks. It reflects off his clothes and his teeth and the ground below. Grinding his teeth together, he says, "Not much else to do. A man wants to be alone for a moment sometimes." He curls his head into a grin and clasps his hands together. It's his picture perfect ringmaster pose and what he defaults to in stress.
"Look at me, opal," she says. He begins to shake his head, but then she smiles wider and in a sickly sweet voice asks, "Could you please look at me?"
Caine could get a cavity just from hearing her. The thought disgusts him. Despite this, he slowly looks up at her. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to her radiance, but when they do, oh... She's so stunning. She's the most beautiful woman in the world. Her half-lidded eyes turn his heart into a race horse that runs his stomach like a race track. His hands begin to shake. There are so many things he wants to do to-
[That's against the guidelines.]
Caine takes a shaky breath. His moon- no, just the moon, stares at him with an amused look. The light reflecting off of her gets brighter and for a moment, he wonders if the Sun is in on this and helping her. Indignantly, he says, "You do nothing to me," but all she has to do is give a quick wink and smirk that little smirk of hers. Ohhh, what they will-
[That's against the guidelines.]
She licks her lips. He wants to-
[That's against the guidelines.]
Caine is going to explode. With a wide, confident grin, he says, "You tease, you..." He begins to prowl over to her, watching as her gaze turns from a simple smug look into one full of hunger. With a single hand, he reaches out to touch her. He sighs shakily and feels-
[That's against the guidelines.]
[BEEP]. This will be a night.