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Queenie wakes up… she sees light? light… when’s the last time she’s seen light? did Caine open up the ceiling to put another abstracted in here? The room permanently sealed off from anything else until Caine opens it up to put another abstracted digital circus member in… but the recent abstractions have been members Queenie had never met.
There’s no “talking” when you have abstracted, but there’s sensing… Queenie can sense what black glitching mass is who, but in recent times she hasn’t been able to sense who new abstractions are, Unfortunately. Queenie has missed so much.. new members… How long has she been abstracted, she wonders.
..The light irritates Queenie.. Caine wouldn't have the “abstraction cellar” open so long, right? It’s usually only opened for however long it takes Caine to float corrupted code down into the Cellar.. not as long as Queenie has felt the light behind her eyelids linger.
The lights never go away, doesn’t move. Queenie thinks more, that’s odd. The woman slowly gains more awareness. she doesn’t sense the left over corrupted code of friends around her anymore, she doesn’t sense anything besides warmth hugging her body.
Body?
She opens her eyes, only two.
Queenie eyes adjust to her surroundings, it isn’t even bright, but to someone who has been locked in a pitch black room for years, it’s blinding.
Queenie registers her body, no longer a corrupted file, now how she remembers.. a Queen chess piece, dark oak brown. Did she un-abstract? Can she do that? Since when? Her eyes shift to her left, checkerboard surrounding her, making her feel dizzy.. oh, her room! The chess piece shoots up, disturbing the bed covers more than they already were. Her room is dark, darker than the circus ever was, no cheery instrumental music heard in the distance from the main stage that the woman remembers.. that strikes Queenie as odd, she drags herself off her bed.
Queenies room has been left just as she remembers, the chandelier, the bed she forgot to make that fateful morning, torn up pictures Queenie had attacked out of frustration for her situation.. the contrast. Her being so angry at being trapped here that she locked herself away and lashed out, versus now.. where she feels.. relief. She’s back, she’s home.
it’s generally quiet, there’s talking outside, though. Voices Queenie doesn’t recognise… Everything is jarring. Queenie being abstracted, just corrupt code, a black mass of glitches with neon eyes trapped in a pitch black room for many years with no company besides other poor souls who had succumbed to the same fate as her(some who she knew, some who were past her time.), to being back in the circus, back in her room! She had never been so glad to be back in the circus, She had accepted living in the cellar, it’s not like she could do anything… if anything, it was calming… but it was quite dull, boring, perhaps. she had missed talking with people, instead of… just being able to sense emotions.. wants.. pain.. from the other abstractions. she missed the colors, besides vanta black and neon eyes.
The chess piece stands, stretching, it reminds her of whenever her back played up before all of this mess, waking up to hearing Abel snore, dragging her weight out of bed, hobbling into that too-cold kitchen to down ibuprofen before waking up her husband for work, him limping around just as much as her despite their young ages. She doesn’t miss the pain.
Queenie focuses onto the voices she can hear, none she can recognise, typical. Though nothing here besides her own mind is a threat, so she doesn’t feel as on edge as she probably should. The chess piece glides across the ground, still not really processing what’s going on. She places a glove on the doorknob of her door, leaning close, trying to catch what the group of voices are saying, but she can’t catch anything.
As Queenie feels the smooth texture of the doorknob, she thinks.. who is still here? She knows Kinger had Not abstracted, for better or for worse.. Queenie grimaces, thinking about her husband, her lover.. he wasn’t doing too good before she abstracted, his mind starting to deteriorate on him. Forgetting details about himself, about her, he once even forgot their wedding date.. she hopes hes gotten better.
Queenie twists the doorknob, stepping out of the room, the voices stop.
”..what.”
*queenie looks at the source, a few circus members she doesn’t recognise stand close to eachother, Just loitering in the hallway. They consist of a character who consists of a bunch of seemingly random abstract parts, a doll with a button eye that reminds Queenie too much of a doll she had as a little girl that she no longer can recall the name of, a purple rabbit(?) with pink overalls, oh, Jack, was that it? Ribbit had communicated to her about a purple rabbit after the poor frog had abstracted, though Queenie never got to meet the rabbit herself.. Anyways. There was also porcelain mask attached to a ribbon forming a vaguely humanoid body, then a smaller jester, the bells on her outfit seem to sound with the slightest movement. Queenie looks over the ground, trying to muster a smile despite her mouth-less avatar.
”err.. hello! Do you… know what year it is?”
The chess piece looks around, running her gloves across the fur trim of her robe. Wait..
”..or where Caine is?”
The group stare at her, for a while in silence, Queenie feels a bit insecure, but she expects the stares, she can see the red X on the illustration across her door in the corner of her eyes.
”..dude what the F&%$?”
The miss-matched triangle head character exclaims.
”Hate to break it to you, genderbent hooha, but Caine has been missing for a few days now!”
The purple rabbit says, in an almost mocking tone, but Queenie has dealt with a lot of different people, she can tell by the way his fingers twitch that he’s unnerved.
”he had gotten upset after some dumb awards show I wasn’t really there for.”
The triangle head says, the wing on their shoulder flickering negatively
Queenie gives a look of concern.. missing? That can’t be good… at all. Queenie registers a door unlocking near her, followed by a creak of hinges that are long overdue to be replaced. Queenie shifts her eyes over to the door. Birch colored digital wood, un-rendered fur and purple filling her vision. Oh, there he is.
Her little lovebug
The one she thought she lost forever.
Chocolate eyes of relief and softness meet ocean eyes of slight recognition, confusion, and slight fear. The slight recognition turns into full recognition, the recognition turns into fear.
”..Digital hallucinations. Isn’t that lovely?”
The cream colored chess piece stutters out, the voice of a little boy who is terrified, still under the effects of medication, after getting a wisdom tooth pulled out, rather than a grown man who had just seen his wife.
”Whats the matter, dear? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Queenie can’t help but take humour on the situation, she is too glad to be back to cry right now.
”You’re not real.”
A whisper falls out of the purple robe wearers non-existent mouth.
Queenie doesn’t respond, pressing a golden glove to Kingers cheek(?), she rubs a claw over the wood that feels more like Luke-warm plastic. Kinger leans into it, tears filling the baby blue and dripping onto the shiny floor.
”Oh. Oh no.”
The birch chess piece hiccups out. Queenie just smiles at him, her Kinger.
”I’ve missed you, my lovebug.”