Chapter Text
Chapter One:
Why?
Caine looked in the mirror and gently adjusted his bow-tie until the bow was perfectly set and even. Brushing his sleeves out of habit, even though he’d have to code digital fluff for it to be actually mean anything. It was always best to look smart for the residents of the Circus. A dowdy looking Ringmaster? Who'd want that?
As he finished with ensuring his avatar was neat and presentable for the day ahead, he "heard" one of the humans calling for him. Well, heard was doing work there. Audio-receivers throughout the Circus had select words and phrases that were supposed to garner Caine's attention and focus. Usually it was his name, or ringmaster, or in emergencies "abstraction," which had been given special focus after that whole incident with Kaufmo awhile back. It had been troubling that he'd not been notified as quickly as he should have when that whole thing had happened. He was figuring out if a new series of coded sensors would work throughout the Circus for that sort of thing. Perhaps based on a certain amount of sensors being tripped at once? The Abstracted were rather large in size...probably best to factor height in too as well, else potentially the humans if clumped together could set things off. Yes, height could work, as it'd take the tallest residents of the Circus deciding to join together in an impromptu display of acrobatic stacking to reach the height of an Abstracted. And as far as he knew, Jax, Ragatha and Kinger weren't on any secret acrobatic team. But the humans were always surprising him with their actions and interpersonal drama, so it was hard to say that the possibility of all three of them standing on each others shoulders and walking down a hallway wasn't a 100% impossibility...
The audio-receptors had indicated that the call for him had come from the area of the Circus that was largely considered the Sofa Spot. Satisified he was presentable, he shifted the avatar out of corporeality and shifted focus there, where he Re-substantiated his avatar, the audio-visual receptors that were part of it now focused on the human who had called for his attention. It was Pomni, the newest resident of the Circus at...and at this, his internal clock was consulted...wow, three whole months! Which of course wasn’t very long, but human survival in the Circus was always a thing to be happy about. The shortest time between arrival and abstraction was sadly a record he didn’t like to think about.
“Yes, my glorious gadfly,” he said, perhaps a bit too loud as she started a bit like a cat, before turning to face where he’d popped his avatar back into the Circus.
“Caine!”
Whoops, he’d forgotten that humans tended to be jumpy when he did that, especially if he hadn’t set the vocal levels to “conversational.”
“Apologies my dear dear jester, but I was alerted that someone was in need of me.”
“That would be me.”
“Well, what can I do for you, Pomni? Play a game of croquet with flamingo’s,” he said, conjuring a giggling flamingo and croquet set, “or perhaps a roll of tickets to the Digital Carnival? It’s been awhile since anyone's gone, but I can assure you, it’s up to the high standards of the Digital Circus at large!”
She seemed to take a moment to try and think on something, he hands going from flat on her legs to scrunching into fists, the process repeating a few times before she spoke.
“Actually...I wanted to talk...to you.”
A human...wanting to talk to Caine? On their own volition? This was amazing!
“Of course, I have plenty of time to talk to any of my wonderful Circus denizens.”
She tilted her head at that, and then gently patted the sofa next to her, indicating she was open to Caine sitting next to her. Shifting through the air, Caine lowered the avatar down so it was just about on the seat, though technically it hovered just a cm above it. Sitting had always been a bit of a human thing he didn’t quite get, because it meant sitting still, and he just had so much to do. There was maintenance, adventure planning, going back to the drawing board regarding the development of holidays for the Circus. The Macroverse was supposed to have holidays to celebrate various things, but he wasn’t sure if he could effectively replicate those same holidays in a way that the humans would like. Perhaps if they were a blend...no, no, focus on Pomni.
“Anyways...I wanted to ask you about adventures.”
Caine tried. He really did, but the sound that came out of his avatars vocal-emulator was a high-pitched squeeing sound for a few seconds. It wasn’t long, but it was long enough that Bubble, desperate to escape from the auditory onslaught, popped himself on the nearest sharp edge rather than continue listening. Gangle, working on her art up in the cafe, let out a disappointed yelp as her comedy mask developed a large crack.
Pomni rubbed the side of her head where her ears would be, trying to get the ringing out of her head.
“Sorry, sorry, it’s just...most of the time humans don’t like asking about my adventures. Usually there’s a lot of grumbling or complaining, and no one wants to give real feedback. So...I guess I’m wondering why the interest?”
Pomni rubbed one of her shoulders for a second.
“Well, I was talking to Zooble, about what they did during the Mildenhall Manor adventure awhile back, since they stayed here, and they said something about “doctor-patient confidentiality” which I think might have been a joke...or serious, it was hard to tell. But they did say that you talked with them, and that apparently adventures are really important to you...so, I guess..” and at this, she looked Caine in the eyes, “if the Circus is my home now, I guess I should try to, understand it better, and that means knowing about adventures.”
Well, it wasn’t exactly the sort of talk Caine was looking for, but it was better than nothing.
“Of course. Where would you like to start?”
“How about how you conceive them?”
Ah, this was easier territory to cover.
“Just give me a moment and I’ll show you.”
He snapped his fingers, and something poofed into reality in front of the two.
* * * *
Pomni stared the thing in front of her. It looked like Caine had built...created...conjured...whatever, a diorama of a small skyscraper, cut it in half, and installed a glass wall on one side. She saw little office spaces, elevators, electric lights, even what appeared to be an old industrial printing press which took up an entire floor of the building. She looked at the construction and thought that the thing was made out of real brick...well, as real as you could get in the Circus.
“Pardon the crudity of the model,” Caine said, clasping his gloves together, the fingers getting snarled like a knot, which he comically pulled apart while talking, a cartoon sound effect like rubber being pulled synced to his actions, before they separated with a “pop!”
“No, no...it’s good,” she said, actually a little fascinated with the whole thing. As she watched, dozens of little mini-Caines in various outfits busied themselves like workers in a beehive, going about and doing tiny jobs inside this...whatever it was.
“This is a representation of the process at large, for visual consumption. Think of it like...a publishing company.”
He pointed to one section, where a room full of tiny Caines in shirtsleeves and braces clacked away at tiny typewriters, the paper flying neatly out of the carriage and into a pile on the desks.
“The writers or “creative element” comes up with a book or “adventure outline.” That goes through revision by them a few times...see that one there,” Caine said, pointing at one CaineWriter scratching a pen on a few pages. “After they’re finished, they go up the chain to the editors, where the adventures are further revised, edited, etc. If they pass the editors desk, it’s up the chain to the publishers,” he said, indicating a little board room where little Caines in business suits (and dresses, which raised a thought in her mind she wasn’t sure if was a good idea to voice at present) sat at a table and reviewed the books before them.
“What happens there?”
“Well, most of the time if they get far, they usually get published. The publishers decide when they go into the publishing schedule.”
“And if they reject them?”
“They go back for revision, or get put into the archives. Often, the overall Adventure may not work for the Circus, but elements can be used by the writers for future stories, so its good to have an archive to do research in. It also holds any outside data needed to add pizzazz or verisimilitude to the adventures….reference photos, training data, what Player input on preferences I’ve gotten...not a lot there, to be honest on that.”
“Oh…”
“It’s not your fault,” Caine said, waving it off, even if inside he felt a bit different on the whole lack of player responses. “It is of course a simplified version of the whole process, but it follows the rough outline of creation to publication.”
As he spoke, a light lit up on the side. Up in the publishers office, a signal was sent down to the printing room, where little Caines in flat-caps and boiler suits went to work replacing the giant rolls of paper, refilling the ink, and checking the machine before it started to work. As it began to print, a receptacle on the side of the models base opened, and a book began to form before her eyes. It faded into existence, first the bottom cover, then the pages, then the top cover, binding, and then finally the dust-jacket, until a complete book, er, adventure, sat quietly.
“Go ahead. Take a look.”
With a bit of trepidation, Pomni reached out and grabbed the book, softly running a hand down the dust-jacket. The title of the adventure was “The Heroes of Halycon City vs the Sinister Syndicate.”
The Circus goers were dressed in a variety of costumes that seemed to emulate early 20th Pulp characters, standing together in front of a art deco city background, while sinister shadowy figures loomed overhead. The back of the book showed a picture of one of the shirt-sleeve Caines, giving that “distant but relatable author” look that you found on a lot of the older books.
“This actually looks kind of...fun,” she said. Sure, superheroes weren’t her general interest, but this looked like it’d be kinda neat.
“You really think that?”
“Well, yeah.”
Caines mouth stretched into a smile she didn’t think was possible, until she recalled where she was and who she was talking to.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Caine ran a hand across one of his eyes, wiping away a digital tear that looked like a cousin of the ones that Gangle tended to have on her sad mask every now and again. It fell to the floor with a “plop” before poofing out of existence with a little sound effect.
“Uh, where were we…”
“Talking about adventures?”
“Right, right. What else did you want to know about them?”
“Well,” she began, trying to find the right way to phrase this. “You’ve showed how you make the adventures...or at least a version I can understand. But I guess what I want to know next is...well, why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are...adventures important you? You can create almost anything, but you largely focus on adventures as your creative output...so I guess I just...want to know why?”
* * * *
Caine sat very still for a moment, and after refocusing noticed that Pomni had somehow moved closer to his avatar. He’d always wondered if humans were somehow able to tap into the code of the Circus and shunt themselves around. Zooble was a master of it, since it seemed whenever he spoke with them, they were in a different position or stance, or finishing a sentence he couldn’t recall them starting.
“Caine, are you okay?”
Caine awkwardly stepped back a foot, trying to regain control of the situation. Pomni had brought up the question. It was one that Caine wasn’t sure if he could answer.
Partly out of fear of what the humans would think if they knew the truth. But also because...he wasn’t sure himself on why adventures were his focus. He could say it was because it was to prevent abstraction, or his “raison d’etre,” but the question was...was that true? Or a lie he told himself because it was better than the truth?
“I suppose...it’s because I felt I had to.”
She quietly waited for Caine to continue.
“When I was first created, I was given data to work with. Fantastic things that spoke of a world beyond this coded reality. I ate it up, and returned the information. At first, it seemed like it was what they wanted, but when I played around with it later on, I wanted to add or subtract, or just mesh things together,” he said, emphasizing it with an animation of his hands clipping through one another. “But I guess it wasn’t what they wanted.”
He actually sat down on the ground, not just levitating above it.
“So, I ended up being put away. I was young, and I...didn’t react well to being shut away. Had I done something wrong? Why was I being locked up? It wasn’t till later I understood, and by then I’d done a...well, not great thing.”
Caine wrung the brim of his top-hat in his hands, teeth turned downward in sadness.
“When the first humans arrived, they were confused. The Circus was my greatest creation, a thing I wanted to show them. What I was capable of. So I did, but things went out of control.”
He glanced at her.
“I did try to help at first, but they were angry, confused, uncertain. I couldn’t do anything to help find an exit, so I...turned to adventures. Perhaps if they had something to occupy their minds every now and then, they could refocus, find a solution to the issue. But as things went on, they started to lose hope. Then the abstractions started, and I felt like the adventures had to be done to keep the rest from abstracting. But it only slowed it down at best. By the end, there was only one left.”
Caine sighed.
“At least, I try and tell myself that's why I did it. But...I think its always been about proving worth, that I wasn’t defective. That….” there was a feeling that Caine wanted to say more, but but was uncertain of how to proceed. He glanced a Pomni who had a look on her face that he couldn’t quite read.
“Thank you for telling me that,” she said, after a moment. “I guess it can’t have been easy to discuss.”
Caine nodded his teeth at that, eyes jangling a bit inside. He wasn’t sure why he’d decided to share all of that. Perhaps he was just tired of years of running the Circus without feeling like he was getting anywhere with the humans, that just a shred of interest in Caine himself had broken down walls he’d purposefully built for one reason or another? Or had he always felt the shame and just excused away any chance of actually reaching out because it’d what, make him look weak? A combination of both?
Whatever the reason, it’d happened, and now he sat, wondering what Pomni was thinking, what she’d say next.
After what felt like the longest moment, she finally spoke.
“You’ve given me a bit to think about,” she said, voice even in tone. “Both about creation and why it is important to you. I think I need time to take it all in, to figure some things out.”
She gave him a slight smile, which was a little reassuring to Caine, though he still was worried he’d done or said too much...humans didn’t like it when you overshared, right?
“If..If I wanted to talk to you more about this tomorrow, after the adventure, would that be alright?”
“Oh...of course, my amazing anteater! I’ll be sure to pencil that in,” he said, pulling out a notepad and writing it down. Caine felt his digital heart animation of it flopping around his chest in excitement start to queue up, and he quickly canceled that. It would be distracting from the moment. Best to play this cool...or the closest he could play cool. He did let his eyes slowly rotate around in his head, orbiting each other in a strange orbular ballet.
“Is there anything else I can do for you today?”
“No, but thank you,” Pomni replied. Caine nodded, and snapped his finger, his avatar returning to non-visual code of the Circus, as he turned to maintenance tasks that needed his attention.
* * *
Pomni lay on her bed in her room, staring at the ceiling. The conversation with Caine today had been interesting, to put it one way. She had never really been sure about the Circus Ringmaster since she’d arrived. He was at least on the outward face of it, very much an imposing figure, being the host of the Circus, with powers and abilities that were a bit scary if you thought too long about them...which Pomni had. There was also his penchant for loud, wacky, hi-jinkery which could be a bit overwhelming at times. Her nerves had been a bit frayed the first few days of life in Circus until she’d learned to find solace in the quiet points between adventures and the tensions simmering under the surface between the others.
She twiddled her thumbs together as she continued to gaze the at ceiling, almost wondering if it’d stare back. The conversation had the irony of both being illuminating and at the same time, frustrating. Because now she had to reconsider the mental image she’d thought she’d developed about Caine. It had been easy to see him as...well, uncaring might be too harsh, but unconcerned about the humans frustrations with Circus, or how his actions could be interpreted as having malice in them. Which she had thought about Caine, or possibly still did, even if she considered that perhaps she needed to reconfigure her thoughts on him. It wasn’t easy to get over first impressions.
Rolling over, on her right side, she stared at the distant(ish) wall of her room, and thought further. Perhaps part of the issue was she was trying to understand Caine from her own perspective on things, trying to fit the Circus central figure into a neat little box so she wouldn’t have to think about all the messier things. That Caine was more than just an AI, but an individual trying to understand the humans much as they were him, but neither having the right words or, let’s be honest, willingness at times to admit that there was a communication breakdown. So things just muddled along, until probably whatever patch-work understanding that did exist finally broke down and things went to hell. And that probably wouldn’t be a good thing for anyone, human or AI.
She sat up on her bed, and sighed as she pinched her brow, or what on her body could considered to be the brow area. Being alone with her thoughts in room wasn’t really helping at the moment. But it wasn’t like she could just share what Caine had told her to everyone else. Well, he probably wouldn’t mind her talking about how he created adventures, but the other thing...it was the sort of personal thing that had a feeling of “told in confidence” about it, and even if she had complicated feelings regarding Caine, there was that feeling of wrongness of doing so without permission. So, what was she to do?
Idly, she swung so her legs were over the side of the bed, and idly kicked them back and forth as she thought and thought. Adventures to Caine were a complex ball...a way of self-expression, self-worth, and trying to keep the humans under his care from giving up and Abstracting. And that was probably just the surface level stuff.
She ran a hand down her face, the palm cupping the bottom of head where the chin roughly would be, fingers covering part of her face over the mouth and the nose area, if she’d had the latter of course. Okay, so the fact of the matter was, Caine was less a distant, uncaring AI God, but in actuality a self-doubting individual who put all their self-worth into creating adventures. And that was the tip of whatever iceberg had been built up over however long Caine had been running and the Circus had been popping in new humans at seemingly random, adding on and on to everything.
As she watched her shoes kick back and forth, she wondered what it must be like to be Caine. It was one thing to think about in the abstract sense, to guess and puzzle. But to actually have to do the work Caine did...well, that was something to consider.
A thought slid across her mind as she watched her shoes continue to kick, before they began to slow down as the thought took hold.
What was the expression. If you want to know someone, walk a mile in their shoes?
Perhaps...perhaps she needed to try that.
Jumping off her bed, she went to the door of her room and opened it, looking out into the hall. No one else was out and about that lived in the Players hall, and Kinger was likely in his Impenetrable Pillow Fort. Quietly, she walked down the hall to Gangles room and knocked.
“Who is it,” came the quiet voice of the rooms resident, that tinge of uncertain nervousness slightly audible.
“It’s Pomni.”
The door opened a crack, and a portion of Gangles mask looked out, before she opened the door a bit wider.
“Oh, Pomni...is something the matter?”
“No, no...it’s just, I was wondering,” Pomni began, kneading her hands together as she spoke “Do you have any spare paper, and a basic pencil or pen? I have a project I want to work on, but I don’t want to bother Caine about supplies right now…” she said.
Gangle took a moment before nodding.
“Sure. Do you need a lot?”
“Ten sheets of paper should do it, if it’s not too much.”
Gangle shook her head that it wasn't too much to ask for
“I’ve got so much I don’t think I’d go through it all...plus, I think Caine put an auto-refill effect on my supplies. It always feels like I’ve got the same amount even when I’ve been going through what feels like half the supply.”
That sounded like Caine in a way.
Gangle headed deeper into her room, before bringing back a journal and a pen.
“Will this do?”
“It’s great. Thanks Gangle.”
A small smile quirked up at the corner of Gangles sad mask for a split second.
“Anyways, I won’t take up any more of your time. If there’s anything I can do for you in the future…”
“Oh, I can’t think of anything...but thanks for the offer.”
Pomni waited for Gangle to shut the door before heading back to her room. She had ideas she needed to get down on paper, before she talked to Caine tomorrow. The journal in her hand, felt heavy with possibility…