Chapter Text
"Welcome back my beautiful cupcake sprinkles!" Caine shouts at the top of his hypothetical lungs, trying to make himself look appealing by exaggerating the size of his eyes. "Based on how you all look… I'm guessing you all had a ton of fun!"
Looking around, you catch everyone practically slouched and soaking wet from your most recent adventure. Pomni's got seaweed on her head, Gangle's got a fish stuck in between her ribbons, there's a piranha trying to bite off Zooble's parts, Jax's entire face is covered by a starfish, a crab is trying to cut the threads keeping Ragatha's button eye on her face, and Kinger is just… lying down, face first, on the floor.
Zooble manages to pry the fish's teeth off their parts, and they march up to Caine angrily– most likely going to complain about the adventure again. "Caine, I don't know what it is with you and your ideas, but we did not have a single ounce of 'fun' in that adventure! Half of us got eaten by a shark, while the other half of us were stuck on an island having to fend for ourselves while a territorial tribe tries to shoot our heads off with arrows!"
Looking back at the others while Caine and Zooble go at it, you catch Kinger walking off to his pillow fort, leaving a trail of water and kelp behind him. You look over to Ragatha, quickly rushing over to help her to a sitting position to wring the water out of her hair.
She sighs and looks up at you with an apologetic glance, "You know, you really don't have to be doing this all the time, you know?"
You shake your head as softly as you can as to not spray everyone with water. "No, it's alright. You were there for me when I was suddenly teleported to an adventure on my first day of being here, so it's fair if I at least help you out too. Besides, I like helping people." Despite the incredibly new—and disturbing—feeling of being in a different body, you manage to get most of the water out of her hair.
"Are you sure? I mean–" She sighs and raises up her fabric locs, "Look at all of this! It's gotta be tiring to have to do this every time, right?"
"Nope. I had a roommate before I got here, and she asked me to help her with stuff like this all the time. This is something I've found to be relaxing at times. Don't stress about it."
Ragatha's eyes widen by the bluntness of your statement, but she doesn't pull away from you as you both continue to wring the last drops of water out of her hair.
Your peaceful interaction together is broken by a loud yell from Caine, who now seems to be crossing his arms, his jaw closed and covering his eyes like a child plugging their ears with their fingers.
Surprisingly, he hasn't taken much notice to you just yet, especially with how often he's putting you all through these adventures, so there's some aspects of your character that haven't quite solidified yet, like your name. Obviously, you can't remember it— none of the circus members can.
You wish you could, though. You remember your name being one of the things you liked most about yourself. It's a shame you can't feel that anymore.
Oh well.
"So," Ragatha speaks up, standing beside you—when did you stand up?—as you're brought back to reality, now realizing that both Caine and Zooble are done arguing, and the rest of the circus members have disappeared. It's only you and her now. "Have you thought of a name for yourself yet?"
You sigh. "Not really. I'm mostly still trying to remember it, honestly. I know it's probably never going to come back to me, but it's sometimes a good pastime to indulge in whenever I'm bored." Looking down at your hands, they're not the ones you remember. You now only have four fingers, which is incredibly disorienting to look at whenever you hold something out in front of you. However, you still try to be grateful, as Ragatha doesn't have the luxury of fingers at all.
The aforementioned rag doll chuckles and looks up at the sky through the various 'holes' on the circus tent, not bothering to mention the clouds that look all-too realistic. "Yeah, I get it. When Caine's not around and the others are in their rooms, it's hard to find something to do around here, huh?"
You manage to get yourself to smile a bit.
"Yeah."
Your room, to say the least, is blank. It's got the basics: a bed, closet (no clothes unfortunately), and a desk. It's like one of the most barren rooms you've ever seen— Hell, an IKEA display room would have more personality than whatever this is. Sighing, you stagger over to your bed, just grateful to have one in the first place.
Plopping down on the covers, you stare at the ceiling and try to recall the important parts of your life before all this. You still remember your roommate. Your dog. Bits and pieces of your university. Your hometown. You can't remember your parents' faces.
You shoot upwards.
You can't remember your parents' faces.
Nor your friends'.
You can't remember your roommate's face, either.
Your dog, too. Was he a corgi? A dachshund? Some other small dog? Was your dog even a he?
Why are you forgetting things in real time?
Why are there so many things you're forgetting?
Oh my God, what did you look like before this?
Who were you?
Who are you?
There's no way you've forgotten all of this already. You just got here. The others said the only thing they forgot was their names. So why are you forgetting everything?
You're trying to grasp the bits and pieces of the memories, but they're slipping out of your grip. Memories of your childhood are being torn to shreds right in front of you, and no matter how far you run or how high you jump, you can't catch them before they fly away from you.
There's a shard of one of your memories, sitting on the floor in front of you. It's you, in a sports competition, and you won a gold medal. Your mom runs over and hugs you tightly, saying she's proud of you. Your dad comes over, standing a few feet away. He's not one to indulge in moments like these.
She looks at you. Her face is blurry. So is your dad's.
Looking around, the details become muddy. You can see the bright red cap of your coach as he shakes hands with the coach of the opposing team. He seems like he's smiling. You can't really tell, though, he's got no face.
What the hell?
Behind him, the floor begins to fall into a never-ending pit of darkness. The concrete cracks and falls, all while everyone is still in place, as if nothing's happening. You nudge your parents and point at it, hoping they'll look at it too, that they'll see the chunks of concrete that plummets to whatever void is below.
They look at where you point, then back to you in a fit of confusion. You pry yourself from your mom's hug, your skin immediately getting goosebumps from the freezing cold of having left your mother's touch.
You try to undo your uniform, to remove all the wires and mesh attached to your body, but it's inevitable as you trip over one of the wires on the floor, leaving you to crawl helplessly as far as you can from the rapidly-approaching pit that's now swallowed almost half of the court.
You look back to try and see how much time you have left, and there they are.
Your mom's face, full of confusion and a twinge of anger for having embarrassed her in front of everybody. Her mouth is moving, but you can't hear what she's saying.
Your dad's face is still blurry, but you can make out the general shapes of his eyes, nose, and mouth. He looks like he's frowning. Why is he mad at you? You just won a gold medal.
The ground below them shakes. They're still standing there.
Your legs become a tangled mess in your uniform as you try to reach out for them, to save them while you can still see their faces. It's useless.
They fall into the bottomless pit below, and you can catch your mom looking up at you, still with that same mix of confusion and rage. You don't know what you did wrong.
You shuffle backwards, your elbows beginning to bleed with how much sharp objects you've hit. But right now, you don't really care. All you care about is getting away from the darkness that's getting closer and closer to you with each second.
Everyone's looking at you, they're all staring. Even some of the bouts are being stopped because you're crawling backwards stupidly onto the metal pistes, in between the players. They look at you from behind their masks, but there's no face behind the metal grid.
You manage to get the bottom half of your uniform off, and you immediately push yourself up, just to hit the chest of one of your opponents. She turns around, her facial features a giant swirly mix of one another.
You stumble back, tripping over your heel and—
You sit up.
Your room is as bland as ever, but there seems to be a crack in the middle of the floor.
Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, they seem to move on autopilot toward the crack on the floor. Inspecting it, there doesn't seem to be anything special with this crack. It's probably nothing, you try to convince yourself.
Sighing, you stand back up, dusting off the dirt on your knees. Your elbows are also sore, but it's probably just a coincidence.
Your gaze falls over the brown door, which seems to be the only source of color this room has. Thinking about it, Caine really hasn't paid much attention to you joining the circus, even if he saw you and sent you off to an adventure with the snap of a finger.
A part of you finds it rather unfair that Pomni seems to get special treatment from Caine, while you're left to pick up scraps and whatever you can find in this circus in order to decorate your room. You haven't even gotten the chance to do that, either, with how often Caine sends you all on adventures on a whim.
It's somewhat annoying, but at the same time you're not really sure you mind, because half the time you get to lounge around while the rest of the cast do the dirty work of the adventure since Caine never gives you an explicit role in these adventures.
For example, in the most recent adventure, he made Jax one of the tribe members on the island, and the rabbit immediately started hunting down some of the circus members. Ragatha, Kinger, and Pomni were explorers sailing on the ocean in search to find 'the mermaid's treasure', which is hidden deep in the island. Gangle and Zooble were the mermaids, for some reason.
And you?
You were not given a role. So, while everyone was going crazy and trying to fend for themselves, you simply sat on the lower deck of the ship, also known as 'The King's Vessel'… Obviously named after Kinger.
It was rather relaxing, getting to listen to the sound of the waves crashing against the sides of the boat, but there were times where you were interrupted by an explosion or a series of screams from Gangle and Kinger.
It's not bad, but you wish you were given more of a purpose or at least something else in this digital nightmare. Pomni's got an incredibly colorful room, Kinger has his own pillow fort (which sounds like heaven to you right now), Gangle and Zooble have the ability to modify their bodies… You wish you had something like that, at least.
Maybe not the whole body modification thing. But it would have been nice if Caine gave you something.
Shaking away the thoughts, the door handle looks shinier than usual, and you can't help but grab it and open the door.
The circus lights are closed for once, and you're incredibly grateful that it's something that Caine added to the circus. You probably would've gone insane by now if he never closed the lights.
Nevertheless, you step out of your room, immediately walking towards the center of the entire place: the stage.
You remember your first day here. You popped into the circus after putting on some kind of outdated VR headset while urban exploring, and instead of being given an entire intro song like what Pomni got, you were just teleported straight into an adventure without realizing where you even were.
It was incredibly overstimulating. There were too many lights and sounds and explosions and people were speaking to you like you weren't real. At the time, you didn't even believe you were real, either.
Until a certain rag doll pushed through the crowd and spoke to you like you were a person, not an NPC.
Following the rag doll, was the chess piece.
Then the one with a mask and ribbons.
Then the jester.
Then the one with mismatching parts.
Then finally, the rabbit.
You're surprised they accepted you in their little group so quickly. Except for Jax, maybe. A part of him still thinks you're an NPC—his words, not yours. Despite not really being given a purpose in adventures, or even something as basic as room decor, you're just glad you're recognized as one of them. Someone who's also trapped in this digital circus.
You walk around the stage area, catching a glimpse of Kinger's pillow fort. You wonder what he does in there, especially since there's barely any space to stand up.
A voice rings out from behind you, and you jump and instinctively punch the face of whoever chose to sneak up on you when half the circus was practically covered in darkness.
"Oh, that hurt.." A clump of purple and white and beige sits on the floor, and only now do you realize you punched one of your favorite members. Kinger holds the side of his head(?), eyes closed in pain.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" You whisper-yelled, rushing over to help him sit up. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry for punching you, I just got so startled because I didn't think anyone else was awake at this time."
He continues rubbing his head before he looks up at you, his confusion washing away and instead chuckling in amusement. "No, it's alright. I mean, if someone snuck up on me at this hour, I'd probably do the same thing."
…
???
Kinger???
Your eyes widen for a moment, isn't Kinger supposed to be some crazy and insane guy? You're sure he has some sort of short-term memory, especially with how often he doesn't seem to remember the things he says right after he says them. This isn't the Kinger you're used to. Did Caine somehow kill Kinger and replace him? No way.
"Uh, yeah," You chuckle awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck, unsure of what you should do or say now. "What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?" The words escape your mouth before you could catch them, but you can't fumble and cover your mouth or else you'd look dumber than you already do.
The chess piece stands at his normal height, and only now do you realize how tall this guy actually is. You're taller than Pomni but a bit shorter than Ragatha, making Kinger nearly an entire head taller than you. Which, honestly, is very disorienting.
He shrugs, looking around the empty circus. "It's calming sometimes to just walk around and take a look at the circus whenever the lights are off. It's like getting to see sunlight for the first time after a 6-month long submarine expedition."
Despite the shocking sight of Kinger being lucid, you understand where he's coming from. It's tiring, having to go from adventure to adventure almost every day with minimal breaks, so being able to walk around the circus while its lights are off is incredibly soothing.
You've always wanted to explore this place, but the bright lights just kind of kill your eyes whenever you look anywhere near up. Examining the place now, it looks much friendlier and welcoming as compared to when you dropped into the circus.
"That's true," You look back at Kinger, somewhat surprised to find he's already looking back at you. "This place feels too bright sometimes. The adventures feel too fast and too rushed, and there's no time for us to actually explore the place or do whatever we want." Sighing, you look back at the stage, hoping for there to be some sort of exit door that will pop up at any moment.
Kinger looks, too, and the two of you just share a moment of silence. You appreciate it, honestly. Maybe you're starting to like Kinger more. Not to begin hating on Ragatha, but sometimes it feels like she's rushing a response from you, like you have to answer her. You don't blame her, though. She's just trying her best. Everyone's just trying their best.
A thought pops into your head as you look at Kinger's pillow fort over to the right. "Hold on, you don't sleep?"
"Hm?" Kinger looks at you then to his pillow fort, slowly walking towards it. "Nah, we don't really need to sleep or eat here. I mean it is something that we can do, but it's not necessary to keep us alive. I just sleep whenever it feels like I'm losing my sense of a day-night cycle. After all, it's important to keep a steady mind when you're in a place like this."
You mindlessly follow him, and he doesn't seem to mind. "A steady mind?"
He pulls out one of the pillows and lets you enter first before closing the pillow-door. As you settle down on the floor, you find the place to be much more spacious on the inside as compared to the outside. Maybe this is one of the special things that Caine can do for the circus members?
Kinger grabs a hidden lantern from behind one of the pillows and lights it up, just bright enough for you to see him. There's a bunch of papers and notebooks scattered around the place, and there's a sketchbook beside you with a scratchy drawing of two chess pieces: a king and a queen.
Did he have a wife?
Never mind that now. Kinger places the lantern down in between you both, and you can see the drawing better. There's a few more chess pieces scattered around the main two, but you choose not to dwell on it as he speaks up again.
"Did Caine ever say anything to you when you got here?"
"No, was he supposed to?" You raise an eyebrow at the chess piece, fidgeting with your fingers. "I mean, I don't even think he paid much attention to me as a whole. When I got here, all he did was take one look at me and sent me off to whatever adventure you guys were on. My room isn't even decorated, it's just blank."
Kinger hums in deep thought. "Caine's not one to just… forget about a member of the circus, especially a new one. I'll worry about that later." He shakes his head and grabs the sketchbook beside you. He takes a moment to look at the scratchy drawing before flipping to a blank page.
"So," He starts, drawing a little stickman. "This is you, and this is your mind."
You look up at the chess piece as he begins explaining to you what abstraction is. You admire how focused he is on his descriptions— you're sure he's been here for far longer than any of you have.
"Your mind is a very important aspect of both your character and the circus, and some bad things can happen when your mind or your thoughts spiral out of control," He demonstrates with a couple of doodles on the page, followed by a strange, four-legged spiky creature beside the stickman. "This is when abstraction happens. When you're no longer in control of your own thoughts and emotions, you lose control of.. yourself."
Kinger's last words are laced with so much regret and sorrow, and you think back on the queen piece that was drawn on the previous page of his sketchbook. Could that have been…?
"And no one really knows what happens to those who abstract," He continues, drawing a circle and a flat surface around it. A hole in the floor? "Whenever people abstract, Caine puts them in a cellar below the map of the circus, and they're never seen again." He sighs, closing his eyes and shaking his head.
Kinger closes the sketchbook and places it beside him, then opening his eyes and focusing on you. "What about you? Why were you wandering around the circus earlier?" He asks, tilting his head to the side.
You sigh and lie down on the floor, staring at the moonlight through the gaps between the pillows. "I just wanted to explore the place, to take a look at everything while the circus is asleep." You shrug nonchalantly, trying to leave out the part where you woke up from a horrible nightmare.
As if Kinger could read your thoughts, he stays silent for a while.
"Are you sure?"
Gosh, why is this guy so smart now? Your anxiety skyrockets, really not used to him being so… analytical. How long has he been in the circus if he can read people's emotions like this? Maybe it doesn't have anything to do with the circus, maybe he was capable of that even before he got here, but still. Gosh.
"I…" You stammer, looking away from the ceiling.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," He pipes up from somewhere in front of you, and there's a shuffling of cloth that makes you wonder if he's moving closer to you. "I just want to keep those around me safe."
You pause. How long has he been here, and how many people have abstracted in this circus to make him think like this? "I went out of my room because I woke up from a really bad nightmare. That, and I just wanted to explore the circus." Admitting that took a weight off your shoulders, even if that weight was already light to begin with. Just having someone else to share these things with, especially in such a lonely place like this… it feels nice.
"Do you… wanna talk about it?" Kinger asks, his voice louder now. You're certain he's sitting beside you now.
"It's just," You sigh, sitting up properly and looking at your significantly inhuman hands. You still remember when you had a fifth finger. You miss when you had nails. "This is all so new. When I went back into my room after the adventure earlier, it's like I started forgetting the faces of the people I loved the most in real time. I kept trying to hold onto those memories, to keep some semblance of my identity before I got here, but it was useless."
"I was then taken back to a memory with me, my mom, and my dad. I was at a sports competition. Then everything started falling apart, like if I didn't grab onto the hands of my parents fast enough, I'd forget their faces forever. It was horrible. Like I was being made fun of for the fact that I'm in this circus at all, even if it's not my fault that I'm here."
You stay silent, gripping your arms like your life depended on it. It was already painful recalling that dream, especially since you're already having trouble remembering the faces of your parents and your roommate, but you needed to get it off of your chest.
A hopeless chuckle rings from deep in your chest as you rest your chin on your knees. "I'm surprised I haven't abstracted yet, it really felt like I was actively losing myself in that dream."
"I understand how you feel."
"Huh?"
Kinger chuckles, in the same hopeless tone. "You know, I was left alone here for almost ten years. It felt like I was going insane with every second that passed. I began to forget everything about my past life. Everything except for…" He pauses, glancing back at his sketchbook with this sad look on his face. "Nevermind. What I'm saying is, if I can handle ten whole years of that, then I'm sure you can too."
You gape at him. "Ten years?"
He laughs a bit. "Yeah, ten years."
Your eyes drift to the floor, then to the sketchbook. You physically can't imagine being stuck in this hellish place for an entire decade. "How did you do it?"
Kinger looks down at you, eyes soft and caring. "I kept a steady mind."
You let out a laugh out of disbelief, and he reels back a bit. "You're insane." Smiling, you stare up at the chess piece beside you. There is no way he kept himself from abstracting just by doing that. You respect him for it, definitely, but, like, no way.
Kinger seems to smile back. "That's what they call me."
For the rest of the night, you and Kinger take turns trying to remember little bits and pieces of your lives before the circus, and you're able to recall more and more things the longer you talk about them. Kinger has more difficulty in doing this, but you help him—very minimally, you should add—get more slices of his life back.
It's definitely a nice change of pace, and the night seems to go on for longer than what you're used to. Not that you mind, you're having fun talking to Kinger like this. A part of you is honored that you get to see a side of him that barely anyone else sees, especially when he tells you the parts of his life that he still remembers.
And in the blink of an eye, the circus lights turn on.