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Lately, Caine noticed the humans in circus were feeling listless, and were going to sleep earlier and earlier each night. It wasn’t entering totally dangerous territory yet, Wormo said goodnight to the others before they retired for the day, and Rattie even waved to him coming through the portal! But frankly the cast was getting a little thin, and as much as Caine wanted to deny it, he understood the low morale. Only four members was outrageous, and other than Kinger and Queenie, the cast rarely interacted. Which was troubling to say the least! How was he supposed to create compelling story games if his players had no rapport with one another??
Once again, Caine curled up in his armchair for a toke on his bubble pipe and a last-minute brainstorming session. He conjured up several combinations of things he knew humans liked, and tried to spin them into something usable. Thanksgiving turkey, glitter, ghouls. Laughter, race cars, dandelions. Helping, bagels, and space. At least he thought they liked space. Humans, like him, liked to create, and space was an infinite empty place to create more things. There was a plentiful share of data of Americans trying to be better at space than the Russians, but very little data of them succeeding. Finding satisfying combinations was difficult. Some elements pleased some humans, while displeasing others, and collaboration was an essential mechanic of the circus. Perhaps this was what made Americans so much worse at space? He did not know.
Caine was not to interfere with human affairs outside of adventures and hosting activities approved by his code. He was hesitant to do so in the first place given the risk of abstraction, and with lower numbers that was not a gamble he was willing to take. So he left his office, and spawned a blue kickball to do drills with on the open ground. But just then, he heard whispering in the corner to his left.
“Haha! Oh, stop!”
“What, why? Caine’s busy, and we’re not breaking any rules in the first place.”
Kinger defied the limits of his avatar, extending his face to give Queenie a cute cartoon smooch. Queenie giggled, a soft, delightful sound, before spinning Kinger around, dancing with him. It was nice. It was beautiful. Caine had never seen anything like it.
“I know I shouldn’t be, but. I’m glad you’re here.” Kinger looked down, as Queenie held his face.
“I’m glad you’re here, too. You know, I wouldn’t wish this place on my worst enemy, but.”
“At least I’m here with you.”
Caine watched as they continued their dance. They moved together with impeccable grace, like they were birds meant to fly together. He’d never seen anything like it.
She leaned her head on his shoulder and shut her eyes. He couldn’t recall another time ever seeing the players so relaxed.
“I miss dancing. You were always so good at it…”
Kinger laughed.
“R-really? I always felt like a goof.”
“You were. But you were perfect.”
Kinger smiled with his eyes.
“You still are.”
Queenie softened, leaning into him as if he were the only source of warmth in the world. It came so naturally to her. Caine stared, shaking.
“Alright, honey. We should turn in.”
“Oh, really?” She sounded disappointed.
“...Yes. We don’t want to be groggy in the morning. And besides, I can always see you tomorrow.”
He said that as if he already couldn’t wait to see her again. The king always had such a sweet, genuine tone. It gave Caine pause.
He watched as Kinger and Queenie retired to their rooms. Queenie waved goodnight, and Kinger blushed, doing the same.
Their doors closed. And Caine failed to understand what he was looking at.
He stayed up late that night. He did not sleep, typically, he used the night to conceptualize new adventures, but clearly now something was bothering him enough to disrupt his creative flow. He distracted himself with toys, particularly his Orbsman stress ball, looking frantically around his dark office. What could he lack, that Kinger and Queenie had? Why did they…
He stepped into the office’s open space and spawned something, a plain wooden doll used as a background character model. He took it into his arms, one hand on its hand and a second around its waist. It was imperative that he copy their movements exactly. As he understood, dancing was about the right steps at the right time. So he moved, 1-2-3, 1-2-3, first to the left, and then to the right. He looked at the mannequin’s face and put his head on its shoulder, just as Queenie had demonstrated. It should have been the same. But he felt nothing for the mannequin, and the mannequin felt nothing for him. He looked to the mannequin again with a sudden burst of disgust, letting go of its hands.
“Why… why is it different?”
He stepped closer, looking down at the mannequin as if it was alive and feeling.
“I did all of the same things. So, why is it different? I… feel nothing for you.”
Caine grabbed the mannequin again, floating to dance with it in air. He moved faster, more erratically, without realizing.
“It. Isn’t the same! I can’t be the same! The invisible magnet that draws humans to one another just doesn’t exist for me, does it?”
He put the mannequin down, floating listlessly back to the ground. He sat, cross-legged, and made the mannequin do the same, sitting across from him. He remembered something, or more accurately someone. They never existed, not to the extent he did, let alone to the level of human players. But they were made for him. Caine didn’t get to know it of course, but it was built to keep him company. His outline glitched, the color of his blazer escaping in shapes.
“You know. I wonder how we would be, if you left beta testing.”
“N-not like them, of course. By namesake and technical creation, we would be brothers.”
“But I wonder if you would see me. The same way a player sees another.”
He gestured toward himself, and pulled the mannequin to sit closer to him.
“I hope you would like it here. I made it for us!”
“Well. It would probably be different…. Considering we’d make it together. You would have your things and I would have mine, but. I imagine connecting to you would be easier.”
“....”
“You feel the same, don’t you? I knew you’d understand!”
He gave the mannequin a hug, commanding it to hug him back. It was the right thing to do after an exchange like that. It was the normal thing to do, though he didn’t hear a response.
And with nothing left to do, he vanished the mannequin without a second thought and saw himself to bed.