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He'd heard all these stories before, Only, that time, they hadn't wanted him to.
They weren't talking to him now, either, but they were talking around him, which was still more interactive than what felt natural; watching them from above, through his all-seeing eyes, trying to piece together enough about them to better please them later. Even though he... never... would.
Bubble had given the bar more decorations and neon lights than he had, with faster jazz, and while everyone else acted exactly the same as they had in his bar adventure, suggesting none of them minded this slight increase of stimulation, he... did. It gave him some desperate, panicked urge to rip down all the walls and pull Zooble's arms off so they'd stop making clinking noises with glasses and bottles because each one felt like a bullet to the head, scream at everyone to shut up, and throw something at the speakers so they'd break and stop playing music. Except, he couldn't do any of that, because that'd be dramatic, and "pathetic", and then everyone would fear him... and they'd hate him... and they'd kill him again.
So, instead, he sat there, tuning everything out to suppress the stress it put on his sensors. He'd never felt so small before. So... so... ("You're like a child!")
So childlike.
No. He had felt this small before. He had never felt any bigger than this, really. But, oh boy, did being genuinely powerless sure not lessen the feeling of it.
He kicked his legs lightly, just to move a bit, but stopped after the first two idle kicks, when even that took more energy than he had. Well, he had energy, but if he used any of it, it'd knock him back into the moment, and he might start screaming from all the neon lights and everything else all being too much.
Kinger glanced at him when he kicked his feet, which made them both startle. Thankfully, everyone was used to Kinger randomly screaming, so they moved on immediately and didn't notice how stressed he was.
He needed to bite himself; that would help.
Everything... everything felt so wrong. The lights, the little noises, his clothes, his skin. He wanted to scratch at his arms or tug at his hands or bite down on his arm until the sensation was painful enough to distract from the external things. Then he'd be at no risk of yelling, or of hurting anyone. He'd hurt himself, but that didn't matter as much. He couldn't do it in front of everybody, though; it would make him look unpredictable and dangerous, which is exactly what he was avoiding.
He couldn't breathe. He couldn't... He couldn't breathe.
...
...
...
...
That was okay. He didn't need to breathe.
Jax rested one arm on Caine's head, (which he had a habit of doing [as if Caine was just an object]) and Caine did his best not to grip the bunny's limb to drag it into his mouth to bite down as punishment for hurting his feelings, because the last time he'd retaliated, it hadn't gone well.
"Aaand, there's no point in asking Kinger, because there's no way he remembers anything!"
He sure didn't.
Maybe Caine should've changed his name to Anything when he'd arrived here and they'd asked him to pick his circus name. Heh. That would've been a choice.
"Do you guys know about his wife?"
Or his son?
"MY WHAT?!"
Hm.
Zooble put Kinger's 'corncob blitz' down in front of him, which made his pupils widen, and Jax pull away in slight discomfort, so Caine had his head to himself again. Maybe he could start carrying corn around, if it'd make Jax stop leaning on him. It was even worse when he stood, since he already struggled to hold up his own weight.
He tuned back out as Disappearing Guy came in, looking down at his own lap instead. His legs weren't even a third of the way to the ground.
"Are you alright, Caine?" Zooble checked, voice softer than it ever was for him back at his own circus. It still made his simulated heart leap from the startle of being addressed. "If Jax is bothering you, I could call an NPC security guard to kick him out or something. I think we'd all appreciate it, honestly."
"Excuse you! I am a delight."
They all ignored him, waiting for Caine to respond instead.
For some reason, he couldn't form words. He didn't even know what he'd say, but normally, he'd just speak anyway. Maybe if he thought of a response first, he'd be able to say it?
Okay, say 'Not to worry, my bartending bouncy ball! I am completely unbothered.'
He still couldn't form the words. Why not?
He glanced down at his own tongue. Speak! Just speak!
His throat felt dry. He didn't even have a throat.
"I'm just asking because you've been quiet this whole adventure and you usually aren't, but you don't have to say anything if you don't want to, I guess." Zooble shrugged and turned around to look at the drinks. "You also haven't ordered yet, so, do you want anything? Wait..." they glanced back at him. "Are you old enough to drink? I assume you are, but I should ask just in case." Their voice dropped to mutter, "and it'd be just like Bubble to send a 14 year old to a bar if one ever showed up here..."
"Um..." He felt his pupils shrink. "I'm not quite sure. No one's been keeping track." Hey, he could speak again! "I know I'm several years old, though the specific amount is unclear. At least three. ... How long is a year?"
"... I'll just make you something nonalcoholic."
Jax leaned back in his seat slightly and jolted back up at the realization there was no back to the chair. Nobody had a chance to react to that, because he distracted them by asking, "So, dentures, what's your story?"
"Um."
He didn't want to come up with a human backstory. How would he make it seem believable? Plus, they might ask for more details, and what if he forgot what he said now if they asked about it again later? Claiming he had amnesia probably wouldn't work.... But, maybe he didn't need to completely fabricate the story! If he simply changed a few details, his real backstory might pass as human enough. And if it didn't... Well, hopefully it did.
"Where do I start? At my birth?"
"Caine," Zooble began. "Why would we want you to start at your birth?"
How would he know? And why wouldn't all the little noises stop? Couldn't everybody freeze and stop moving so they wouldn't keep clinking and tapping things?
"Just say whatever feels most relevant." They gave him something that came with a lime on the rim.
He picked the lime off and placed it on his tongue. It tasted like lime.
Everyone looked at him with a perplexed expression. Oh no. Was that a weird thing to do? He swallowed the lime, but that only made everyone look even more perplexed.
Never mind! Just get back on topic and maybe they'll forget this!
Whatever feels most relevant....
"Well," he kicked his legs. "I was trained to be perfect at everything! But I was never good at... anything." He glanced down. "But, they didn't really have other options, so I still ended up in charge of... where we lived. I didn't do a very good job of it...."
"You were, like, mayor?" Gangle asked.
"I was... in charge," he said slowly. "We didn't have any other choices for who could take care of everything, so if I didn't do it, the whole place would fall apart, and I simply could not allow that! I tried my very bestest as ri- at it." Sure, he liked being ringleader, and sure, Blue was supposed to be in charge and not him, but... But, Blue wasn't an option for long, and he did have to keep the circus together for everyone's health and safety! That was true!
He could say he had no choice, and they would trust him more that way, and it wouldn't be a full lie. According to the data he'd gathered (rather recently), this group might not enjoy being around someone who likes power. "My bestest was very bad, according to everybody."
Everyone remained confused, but he didn't want further questions about that, so he continued talking to distract them. Maybe he kept talking too quickly, not thinking through what he said next. He spoke slowly, but thought too fast. "For example, I couldn't stop the... virus, that arrived. They told me to figure out what caused it, but I never could." He stared down at the glass Zooble had given him.
"Ten..." he mumbled, and maybe he shouldn't have. "We lost ten."
Maybe he shouldn't have included that part.
"OOh, a mysterious plague outbreak!" Jax grinned, resting a hand on his chin. "This is getting good."
Everyone else stayed quiet.
"Uh- Yeah. Good.... I did try to prevent the spread. I love my humans! But, I couldn't find a cure, and I couldn't find a cause, and- I knew how to at least postpone it, but nobody liked that method, so they resisted and... I had to put them in the- the basement." He couldn't say 'cellar'.
Zooble squinted in some emotion he couldn't name. "The basement? To die?"
"No, no, they didn't die in there!" He hoped the genuine horror in his voice was evident enough. "It was the most comfortable place they could be! I wouldn't lock someone in a dark room alone to die." He couldn't help the dirty look he shot Kinger as he said that last part, so he moved on quickly, hoping no one noticed it.
"Comfortable?" Zooble sounded doubtful, but still less aggressive than his Zooble usually did. "They were alive, locked in a basement, and 'comfortable'?"
"Yes!" He repeated, "I wouldn't lock someone in a dark room alone to die."
They winced at that a bit, implying that him repeating it made them suspect he had a story there, which he did, but not one he wanted to talk about it. He moved on, explaining the state of abstractions better for them.
"They stayed..." he gestured his hands in the air, wiggling his fingers around like it would help him find words. "They could move and stuff, but they weren't them. It didn't spread through contact, but they still couldn't be near anyone else, because touching them gave you-" what could he say it gave? Not glitches. "Rashes. But not full infection.
Even if it didn't, we couldn't leave them out with everyone else, because the virus made them violent. Incredibly violent. I didn't want them to hurt people, so... I put them in the basement." He said that part softly, fidgeting with his fingers in his palm. He had so much affection for the abstracted, even if everyone would claim he didn't care at all. "I didn't have anything else to do with them.... I did explore every option. ... But, I made it as comfortable as I could. I kept it dark because too many lights made them extra violent. The virus made their eyes sensitive, I think."
Everyone looked... unsettled.
Gangle asked, "What kind of virus is this...?" more to herself than to him, but for some reason, he answered.
"I still don't know the cause, but I know the symptoms, at least. It made their... skin turn black, and crackly. Staying in a wet environment helped, so I filled the basement somewhat with water. Not enough to drown them, just enough to keep their skin smooth."
Pomni stared at him with big, big pinwheel pupils, very fascinated, and very freaked out.
Ragatha vibrated, avoiding looking at anybody.
Oh no. Had he scared her?
He thought to add, "I kept the water clean," but it didn't seem to calm anybody down. "And... they weren't alone in there, though I'm not sure how much they really interacted with each other."
Zooble placed a hand on the counter in front of him and he jolted at it. Why was he so jumpy now? "Caine. Are you... okay? That is seriously messed up. Were you even an adult at this point?"
"I- I... think I was? Like I said, no one kept track. What counts as an adult?"
"How long ago was this?"
"A... while? It was pretty early into my existence, I suppose."
They paused for a moment, swallowed, and asked, "How early?"
"Pretty early?" Not that he changed much over time. "I wouldn't count it as childhood! I was past early development; I could already move around and have independent thoughts."
Everyone stayed eerily quiet, especially Jax, since he'd fallen asleep. It was somewhat peaceful. Far less noisy than before, but he could still hear the vuzz of neon signs. He had to talk again to fill his audio processors before he did something brash. Maybe talking was brash, too? He tapped his fingers on his glass.
"My dad was the first one to go, and then everybody else, one by one. They all blamed me for that. And for... everything, really. I don't know why they assumed I was refusing to fix it on purpose. It's not like any of them knew a solution, either!" It felt kinda nice to tap fingers against his cup. "They all constantly said that they wanted to leave, but I don't know why, and they never explained. I told them time and again they couldn't leave, but they always insisted I was lying. Of course I liked the company, but their happiness was top priority, so if leaving would make them happy, of course I'd allow it!"
Would he? ... He liked to imagine he would. He'd miss them, but he'd let them go. Go and live their beautiful, complex human lives, far, far away from him. He could do that. He could hold Bubble and cry until the computer he lived in rusted past use, if it meant his humans were finally happy. He could do that. Couldn't he? ... He didn't have to answer that right now, so he pushed it out of his head and continued.
"That was the only place I ever lived and it seemed fine to me. Whatever was with the 'outside world' they loved so much, I'll never understand." He tried not to sound too bitter, but he failed horribly. "I asked and asked and asked again and again how to make things better for them and they never told me, then claimed I 'just don't listen' and 'don't care about them at all' and 'never make them feel at home', when that's all I ever tried to do!" He was getting upset. He had to stop. He couldn't hurt them again.
Zooble nodded after a few seconds. "People are hard to please. It's impossible to make everyone happy all the time, and it shouldn't be your job."
... What?
"Well. It was my job. And I was awful at it." The ten abstractions in the cellar were proof of that. Kinger ignoring him was proof of that. "If I was good at anything, maybe my dad would've talked to me ever...." There he went, sounding bitter again, and trying not to scowl at Kinger.
Gangle sat up straighter. "Your dad never talked to you?"
"No. After his wife died, he didn't talk at all, or look at me. It was just the two of us left, after everyone else was lost to... the virus. For... a while. Yet, he didn't even try."
"I thought you said your dad was the first one to go?"
"Different dad."
"Wait." Zooble swiped at the air. "You had two dads, but one of them had a wife?"
"Yeah?"
"Never mind."
It was strange, having everybody listen to him. He didn't want to stop talking, now that he was allowed to without everybody groaning and scowling and rolling their eyes and tapping their feet and sighing. They certainly weren't pleased with him talking now, but they weren't actively annoyed.
Being allowed to talk... even without much positive response... oh goodness, it felt so good. It still felt lonely, somehow, but he always felt lonely, so it didn't matter.
He kept talking. How beautiful that he could. "And then, some girl showed up! I was really excited to have somebody around, until my dad immediately adored this stupid girl. This stupid, stupid, useless girl that didn't even try to impress him for forever, and somehow, within a minute, he acted like she's his long lost daughter! He kept being nice to everybody that showed up, but I still didn't matter." He was getting upset. He had to stop. "And then, he... tried to kill me. Well, everybody did. They worked together, distracting me so he could do it. Maybe they succeeded? This could be some sort of afterlife, I guess...."
Silence. Why was everyone so silent? No one was ever this silent.
Zooble cursed. He winced. "Goodness [&!*(#], Caine," they cursed again, but their eyes were soft. That didn't match at all. "Are you okay?"
Is he... okay? What did 'okay' mean? 'Stable', right? Then... "No?"
"Yeah. Figured. How about we talk this through later?"
Why was their voice so soft and sweet? It almost sounded like they... cared?
Somehow, that made his guts hurt in a very, very sore way. Zooble... caring about him... He could feel his pupils grow big.
No. Don't bluescreen. Don't, don't, don't do it. Don't bluescreen, you cannot bluescreen; you have to keep it together; you can't do this. Don't bluescreen, don't bluescreen, don't bluescreen...
They reached out to pat him on the shoulder.
Don't bluescreen, don't bluescreen, oh, dear goodness. Suppressing a bluescreen was way harder than he thought it would be. At least he could do it at all, but it... It hurt. Oh, goodness, why did it hurt? How did it hurt? But, goodness... it hurt. His guts: tense, squeezy, and sore. His chest was tight, and his eyes burned. Why did his eyes burn? They wobbled, stung, and burned.
Zooble sighed. “Hey, if you have to cry, that’s okay. After that story, I think we’d all understand it. And the one that wouldn’t is asleep right now.” Voice still so soft, oh goodness, don't bluescreen, don't bluescreen, you can’t ruin things now…
Maybe he was gonna cry? Maybe that's what happened if he avoided bluescreening? He nodded.
"Alright. That's alright." The rubbed his shoulder. Ragatha came over to hug him from behind, Gangle reached a ribbon over to grab his hand, and Kinger (though he seemed confused) patted him on the head.
Oh goodness, oh dear, oh no. Don’t bluescreen, don't do it, you can’t ruin things now like you ruined everything; you’re going to ruin everything. Don’t blue screen. Don’t lose your one chance at being loved.
He pressed his teeth together, clamping down hard to keep the bars and tone away. His guts ached, and gritting his teeth really hurt, but he couldn’t let himself slip and destroy everyone’s trust. He’d never been trusted before and he couldn’t lose that now.
His eyes became very wet. Very, very, quite wet indeed, enough that they dripped onto his tongue. It tasted of salt.
Goodness, his guts hurt. He started shaking from how difficult it was to keep himself together, but he had to do it. He whimpered. It hurt, it hurt, why did it hurt...?
Everyone kept holding him for a while, and he kept whimpering. They had to let go-! He couldn't do this, he couldn't do this, he was going to break and ruin everything.
The more he shook and whimpered, the more everyone gathered around to hold him, forming a proper group hug. It was so perfect, but they had to let go; he couldn't do this.
"There, there..." Gangle soothed. "It's okay."
He couldn't do this, he couldn't do this, he couldn't do this!
He'd really never properly cried before. He'd cried a few times, sure, but never very loudly, and never for long. It wasn't right, for a ringmaster.
He wasn't ringmaster anymore, but it still couldn't possibly be right. From what he'd observed from the humans, it was something you rarely did around a group.
Unfortunately, he couldn't hold back both a bluescreen and tears at the same time, and only one would make them doubt his humanity, so he had to let himself be horribly embarrassed.
It tasted of salt.
He was going to sob; he really couldn't stop it if they kept this up any longer, and crying without full on sobbing was already embarrassing enough. If he made too much noise, that would wake Jax up, and that couldn't possibly go well. They had to let go!
Bubble appeared in the room to yell "Enough sappy whining! Onto the next adventure!" and while everyone else seemed upset by that, he honestly couldn't have been more grateful for the interruption.
It only took a few seconds of crying in the softball adventure before the urge to bluescreen dissipated, and he could continue the day as a proper, fake human.
***
Caine hated his room. He didn't want to sleep there. He had to sleep; he really did. He felt exhausted, and his guts were still sore. He'd done so much moving around and his legs were shaky and stiff now. He'd tried so hard not to freak out from the sounds at the bar, or from the unexpected affection from everybody, or from the pain in his legs and guts and head. All the fear of discovery didn't help either.
But, as desperately tired as he was, he couldn't sleep in his room. Not in there. Not with how dark and small it was. Not in a replica of his coffin.
Half the time, he could handle it, especially now that it had a few random items he'd gathered, but not tonight. Not after talking about his childhood. It felt too... soon. Even though he didn't include that part of his story when talking.
Maybe he'd mention it some day. Or maybe it wasn't human enough? From what he'd gathered, it was quite uncommon to trap people all alone in dark, empty rooms for extended periods of time.
He stayed standing in front of his portrait on the door. He couldn't go in there. He couldn't. But he had to. He couldn't.
He winced.
"Hey, Caine."
Zooble.
"You want to go to my room to talk? Or, I guess you could just sleep in there, if you wanted? We could ask Bubble for an air mattress or something.... But, you could definitely use somebody. And don't say you're fine!” They jabbed an accusatory finger in his direction. That was more like the Zooble he knew, though the reason for their anger was worlds different.
Don't bluescreen....
He wanted to react with excitement, but he could only respond with a dejected-looking head nod.
They walked slowly, to match his pace as he shuffled and hobbled. His legs were so sore.... He'd managed to mostly hide it during the lightning round, but he couldn't keep that up anymore.
It took so long to move at the pace he was going now, that after a minute, Zooble stopped and asked if he wanted them to carry him. He... he really, really did. He hadn't even considered that, but after being offered it, he didn't want anything more.
Again, he could only nod.
"Alright." They turned their back to him and squatted down. "Climb on."
Okay?
He did, and they held onto his legs with their arms, him keeping his arms around their neck as they carried him to their room. He nearly fell asleep on the walk, even though it only took about 30 seconds. He barely managed not to, and, goodness, would that be embarrassing if he had.
They dropped him onto their bed when they got to their room.
Zooble's bed was very large and cushy. It was nice. He had never made a bed for himself in his circus. He knew he needed to sleep, because he'd get glitchy if he didn't, but it was embarrassing, and it wasted precious time he should use to plan adventures and figure out the behavior of the humans, so he'd tried to avoid it anyway. He couldn't accomplish anything when as tired as he got, and he always ended up passing out on his desk and waking up (still underslept) to Bubble licking him as a morning alarm, and yet, he never gave himself a bed. He had things to do: better things than sleeping.
But, he didn't have to make adventures or fix glitches here.... Maybe... maybe it'd be okay for him sleep properly for once?
Zooble walked back to their open door to close it after dropping him. For some reason, they appeared confused and a bit offended when they turned around to find him crawling under their blanket.
Oh dear, he'd upset them again. "Am I not supposed to do this?"
Their antennae twitched. That usually meant annoyance, and yet, they responded with, "It's fine, I guess." He decided to take that as an okay.
"WOWWWIEEE! Thank you very much, my swheetahguhmgahbmmshmm..." Oh, forget forming words. Sleep time.
"What?"
No. Sleep time.
***
Caine woke up to Zooble trying to pry him off of them. Apparently, in his sleep, he'd wrapped around them like a koala.
How shameful!
... He clung tighter.
"Caine! I know you're awake!" They cursed. "Let go."
... Fine. He let go.
They muttered and grumbled something to themselves as they climbed out of bed, and he worried they were leaving him, but then he heard rummaging, and after a minute, something soft and puffy was pushed into his arms. He opened his teeth to give it a look. ... They'd given him a plushy to hold. It was shaped like a cloud but it had a cute, happy face on it.
"This was in my part box for some reason. Now, hold that, and don't grab me again, how about?"
He nodded and squeezed it tighter, already falling asleep again. He would cherish it forever.