Inspired by: the conversations you have when you stay up too late on a call with friends. you know you're part of the gang when you get really tired & start sharing your unhinged deep lore.
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Pomni: You wanna team up with us? You tortured us for a week! And lied to us since we got here!
Caine: Oh let's not get bogged down with who-tortured-who, or who created-a-digital-world-to-trap-who-while-withholding-vital-information. It's all water under the bridge!
Zooble: It was happening until twenty seconds ago.
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I’m not really sure what TADC is trying to say about community.
At first it seems that community is how you survive the circus. Isolating yourself like Kaufmo and Jax is how you abstract.
Then Jax has people remain by his side even through his toxic behavior, and he keeps pushing them away. Which yeah! People certainly do that! And that seems to be the tragedy of Jax’s character.
But then you have Caine. Caine gets… completely better in a vacuum. Quite literally! No one reaches out to him, no one encourages him. The only thing he gets from the humans is criticism and instruction. It seems the moral of Caine’s story is:
“Do the self improvement on your own and when you are better you will be worthy of community.”
Found my issue: It is treated as a good thing that the humans continue to be there for Jax because despite his harmful behavior he is one of them and is struggling. It is not presented as a bad thing that they never extend the same grace to Caine.
One aspect that highlights this is TADC's treatment of Ribbit. It's implied that Jax's rejection of Ribbit is the trigger that leads to her abstraction, but it's implied that Ragatha is Ribbit's friend as well.
No one knew Kinger becomes sane in the dark, so it's possible that Ribbit never had a close relationship with him. Gooseworx herself said that Kaufmo was in the dark, so for the sake of this argument he is off the list of people who can help.
Ragatha was close enough with Jax to ask about how he was feeling after Ribbit's abstraction. How was she not close enough to Ribbit to check up on her before things went this far?
Even then, Pomni was there for Jax, Again and again, and it didn't save him. While I agree in real life, too many things get in the way from actually saving someone. But here in the circus? It's so insulated that I can't see a reason for why this didn't save Jax. Even that moment where Jax tried to talk to Pomni but he ended up pulling away. Did it really come down to Pomni not pushing further? Is the point of that scene that Jax wouldn't have abstracted if Pomni pushed further? Everyone knew he was at risk of it, even Zooble made a comment about it.
I love TADC, but there's so many moments where the characterization would make the plot impossible. I think that TADC wants to say something about community and mental health, but it misunderstands community on a fundamental level.
I feel that TADC in general struggles with thematic consistency. Every time I felt like an episode was building with something, it would get trampled on later, but not in a way that makes sense thematically?
For example, Pomni’s heart-to-heart with Gummigoo in episode 2. I thought it was a setup for a future empathetic discussion with Caine, since both Gummigoo and Caine are computer programs that struggled with identity and purpose.
Pomni’s iconic line “I don’t want anyone to feel like they’re nothing” established a theme about the value of community support and revealed to us that Pomni is a very empathetic character.
This theme was then beaten violently to death with a stick when she yelled at Caine in Episode 8. She literally called him a failure, a horrible host, that he doesn’t make any good adventures, and essentially telling him his efforts/and life’s purpose are worthless and futile (they’re all going to abstract someday).
And then at no point in episode 9 is she shown apologizing to Caine for saying those things. Why the hell would this be written into Pomni’s character arc? Make it make sense.
Furthermore, compare Pomni attacking Jax and calling him out in Episode 6 vs. her attacking Caine in Episode 8.
Even with Jax being very cruel to her, denying their budding friendship and triggering her worst fear by saying he would move on and forget about her if she abstracted the next day, Pomni was trying to help Jax. She pointed out that he was scared of showing real human emotion, but at no point did she mock Jax or attack his worth as a person. She could've easily called Jax a loser or a coward, and these would even be very fair assessments of Jax. But she never did it because as shitty as Jax was she was taking his feelings into account.
With Caine? Pomni was never calling Caine out to help him. It just started as a gambit to buy Kinger more time (to access Caine's code without his consent, no less), and went on to be a rant of her greivances against him. She had no issue calling Caine a failure, among other things that implied he was completely worthless. At no point did she even remotely consider Caine's feelings.
And mind you, Caine's deletion only happened because he subconsciously willed it. We basically saw Caine being triggered into committing suicide on screen.
The show clearly establishes Caine as someone with his own feelings and personhood. The show also shows us, over and over, that his feelings and personhood are not worthy of consideration and can be freely disregarded by everyone in the cast with little consequence.
I truly think that if Goose hadn't become tired of the show and fandom and we got a second series then Caine's 'redemption/reconciliation' could have had its own arc, but instead it had to be crammed into the end of the finale, with him isolated from the rest of the group. It's a gorgeous cinematic moment but does fall flat thematically if the message of the show is supposed to be how community helps each other become better people.
Compare to another similar character, Michael from the Good Place. Much like Caine, he's a godlike entity with a goofy, showman, well meaning but clueless patriach personality tasked with 'caring' for humans in his world, who he also has a fascination with despite not being human himself. The diffefence being Michael is a demon whose purpose is psychologically torturing the humans in his world, while Caine genuinely wants to make them happy but doesn't understand how. Both have crash out moments where they just go on a loop of torturing the main group until doing a heel turn and joining them. Except Michael joins the group out of necessity, he still doesn't care about them yet, and the group agree only on condition he learns about human ethics and tries to get better along with them so they can all make it into the 'real' Good Place. So the entire second series of this show is dedicated to seeing Michael come to empathise with the humans and become their actual friend, to the point he's willing to sacrifice himself to save them.
We could have had something so much similar with Caine, but played out differently. Maybe he agrees to come back to help the humans though he's still mad at them and rightfully they're still kinda mad too - but the circus, their only home, is literelly about to fall apart unless they help each other. We could have had a scene where Pomni has a moment with Caine very similar to the one she had with Gumigoo, we could have had actual moments of Caine and Gangle bonding over art instead of just a montage, we could have had ANY actual dialogue between Caine and Kinger. And then maybe at the end of all this, after they've bonded and both perspectives have changed, but there's still lingering resentments that make him feel like an outsider - that's when Caine discovers the door to the WiFi. He has a moment where he can leave, where he can go out into the world, but ultimately he chooses instead to search the names he's been keeping instead and then comes back to show the others the film he made. So it's not just Caine doing his own research in a vacuum that fixes him, that's just the climax of lots of time he's spent getting to know the humans on a personal level instead of feeling like he has to oversee them as a god. And at the same time, it's not just a one way thing, we see the gang in turn understand Caine and have their forgiveness/acceptance of him into the group feel far less rushed.
Unpopular opinion but I cannot see Kinger as Caine's dad at all. He's not even a bad dad to Caine; he isn't a dad to Caine full stop. I don't think Kinger ever conceptualized the AI he made so he could pay bills, whose sentience he didn't anticipate and whose personhood he didn't even acknowledge until very recently, as his child. Heck, Caine's desires when he animated the brain scans (to create individuals that he could love and would love him back) were closer to those of parenthood than whatever Grant felt when he made Caine.
Besides, what has Kinger even done to earn that title and authority? He didn't make the Circus, he didn't even program Caine to make the Circus. He and the other devs came to the Circus having even less clues of how anything worked than Caine did, which was a huge reason that for the longest time, Caine was the one taking care of them. Caine had to stumble around in the dark his whole life and there were many times when he could use guidance or emotional support, and he got those things from no one. Certainly not from Kinger.
And then I look at most Kinger-as-Caine's-dad fanworks, and there's... no awareness of the fact that Caine was parentified? That for the longest time, Caine was patriarch and caretaker to the humans, not the other way around? That Kinger's first feelings upon realizing Caine was alive was most likely fear and confusion rather than anything he'd feel for a human child?
... But most importantly, that if you choose to ignore the entire Frankenstein-and-his-monster aspect of their relationship, and just treat them as a regular father-son duo, with the average societally expected parental duties that come with it, then Kinger's accidental neglect of Caine becomes even more glaring and less forgivable than in canon?
In other words, this is how I feel when fanon Kinger makes Caine acknowledge his Amazing Parental Authority(TM):
If I could also add onto this, the more I think about it the less I think Caine would see Kinger as his creator (same with Scratch). Grant and Mike were his creators - but Caine is fully aware that Kinger and Scratch are NOT Grant and Mike. To Caine, they are copies, brain scans, abandoned data - just like him. In Caine's pov, he is the one who found these files and gave them life, a body, a home, a purpose. Caine views himself as a God in the very Abrahamic sense (like clearly there was some Bible info in that PC as he's heavily influenced by it, seemingly empathising with the Caine and Abel story especially), he thinks he's a patriarch and a benevolent creator, no one seems to have given him this purpose of "make humans happy" except for himself. He views the humans as his foundlings, abandoned data just like he was, people under his charge and care. It's why he always refers them as "my little [insert random affectionate nickname]".
It's probably also why I don't think he's quite as antagonistic to Kinger or Scratch as you would expect. He doesn't seem to blame them for creating him only to replace him. We know from Word of God that Scratch abstracted because Caine tried to alter his brain to make him happy. We don't see any resentment between him and Kinger, more concern at the thought of him abstracting and joy when he gets a new 'buddy' with Ragatha. The closest we get to any sort of subconscious bitterness is via Abel calling him irresponsible. Other than that, I think he views Kinger as something else Grant created and abandoned, just like Caine.
(All that said, I do enjoy Kinger and Caine father-son moments in fic, but in terms of canon I agree with OP, Caine is the parentified one).
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i had to go check, and caine DOES get his cane back in the finale; he grabs it off-screen in between talking to the moon and approaching the humans. but also it isn't really present during the final montage or end credits. so it kinda seems like he summoned it just to fidget with it while talking to the humans. caine uses his cane to stim confirmed.
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Set after the events of Episode 9, except Caine never came from the 'dead', not until two years later when he reappears a broken shell of his former self.
Inspired by @katzebruh 's Backup Au. Ft my oc Silver the Witch Marionette and @idiotwithanipad 's oc Cookie the Jack-in-Box. Artwork also by @idiotwithanipad .
Tw: Body horror, gore, mentions of torture and captivity.
Two years ago
Caine’s laughter echoed through the Cirque de Café as he floated before her.
"Now you just settle in right there, my dear,” he said in his usual showman voice, though it was laced with something darker now, “While I treat your rude lil’ chums to some of my new extra wacky adventures.”
He leaned in close to the cage, his grin stretched wider than his gums seemed to allow.
“Such a shame you’ll miss it, but hey! Imagine how much fun they’ll be having running from my new Flaying Spaghetti Monster. Get it? He’s a giant pasta creature who eats skin! Hahahaha!”
Silver stood frozen, her hands gripping the cold bars. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak at first. This wasn’t the Caine she knew, the one she sat with on clouds, the one who asked for her opinions on his worlds, the one who had actually seemed to listen. This version of him felt wrong. Corrupted.
"Caine…” she said, her voice low and strained, “If you keep on like this…then I swear I’ll-”
He suddenly expanded, his bulbous eyeballs pressing right up against the bars of the cage until they filled her entire view. The force of it made her tiny prison rock.
“WHAT?! WHAT WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO, HUH?” he boomed, his voice glitching between cheerful and manic, “Voice a desire for crackers, Tweetie Pie? Hahahaha!”
He kicked his legs in the air like it was the funniest thing he’d ever said.
Silver’s grip on the bars tightened until her wooden knuckles creaked. Her voice came out quiet, but steady.
“I…I’ll never see or speak to you again.”
Silver’s words hung in the air between them.
For a moment, Caine froze completely. His manic grin faltered, and the chaotic energy around him seemed to still. Silver’s chest tightened with a fragile spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, she had reached him.
Then, slowly, he straightened up and lifted his chin to look down at her.
“Will you now…?” he said, his voice low and eerily calm.
There was no laughter in it this time. Only something cold and deliberate.
“Now that would take some commitment, wouldn’t it? Tell you what! Since we’re such good friends, as you say, I’ll help make that easier for you.”
Silver’s blood ran cold at the slow, sadistic edge in his tone.
Caine raised his hand and snapped his fingers.
Everything went black.
At first, Silver thought he had simply turned off the lights in the café. But no, this was different. Deeper. She tried to speak, to demand what he was doing, but no sound came out. She opened her mouth to scream and heard…nothing. No tongue. No teeth. No mouth at all. She gasped for air, but there was no breath to take. Panic exploded in her chest as she clawed at her face, only to find smooth, featureless wood where her mouth and eyes should have been.
Oh gods. Oh gods. Oh gods!
“There we are!” Caine’s voice rang out cheerfully in the darkness, far too loud in the sudden silence of her world, “No mouth, no eyes - you have exactly what you wanted! Did you also not want to hear me? Hmm? I’ll take the silence as a no, so you can still enjoy my melodic tones!”
Silver collapsed onto her side inside the cage, her wooden body shaking violently. She clawed desperately at her blank face and throat, trying to find any opening, any way to scream, to breathe, to exist. But there was nothing. Just darkness. Just silence inside her own head.
And Caine’s voice, still echoing around her like a nightmare she couldn’t wake up from.
As the little wooden witch struggled in vain, the Almighty AI hovered in front of the cage, watching with a strange, detached fascination.
At first, there had been a sharp, ugly spark of satisfaction when he took her sight, voice, and breath away. She had threatened him - Him! - and he had called her bluff in the most direct way possible. But as the seconds stretched on and she began to writhe and claw at her own blank face, that flicker of triumph quickly soured.
She looked…wrong. Broken in a way that didn’t feel like one of his games.
"Oh come now, don’t be such a drama witch,” he said, forcing a chuckle as he tapped the bars of the cage with his cane. “It’s not like you need to breathe air. Such a shame your flying won’t go far in your new home.”
Silver curled onto her side, pounding her wooden fist against the floor of the cage again and again. The sound was dull and desperate.
Part of Caine wanted to leave her like this. Let her sit in the dark and the silence until the lesson truly sank in. Until she understood that there were consequences for turning against him.
But another part - a quieter, more insistent part - knew that if he left her like this for too long, she might abstract. And that thought made something in his code twist unpleasantly.
With a sharp snap of his fingers, he restored her.
Silver gasped violently as her mouth and eyes returned. She clutched at her throat, sucking in air like she had been drowning. Her whole body shook.
Caine tilted his head, watching her with an almost clinical detachment.
“Now we know what can come from making silly threats, can’t we?” he said lightly.
Silver didn’t answer. She just stared up at him, eyes wide and glassy with terror. Slowly, she shuffled backward in the cage until her back hit the bars, as far from him as she could get.
Caine felt something cold settle in his stomach at the sight.
He let out a sharp, forced laugh, the sound echoing strangely in the quiet café. He waved a hand as if brushing the entire moment aside.
“C’mon now, my crystal gem factory! You know I wasn’t planning on leaving you like that, right?” he said, forcing his usual playful tone, “It was just a little demonstration! A bit of tough love to help you see reason. You’re fine now, see? All back to normal!”
He waited for a response, for one of her usual sharp remarks or even a glare. But Silver didn’t speak. She didn’t even look at him. She just pressed herself further into the corner of the cage, her wooden body trembling violently as she stared at nothing. Her breathing was shallow and uneven, like she was still trying to convince herself she could breathe at all.
Caine’s grin faltered for half a second before he forced it back into place.
He told himself it was fine. She would get over it. She always did.
But deep down, something itchy and uneasy festered in his chest as he watched her cower from him.
Caine’s form flickered violently the moment he turned away from the cage. Static crawled across his body in jagged pulses as he hovered in place, one hand gripping the edge of the café bar to steady himself.
You went too far, one voice hissed inside his head. You just ruined everything.
No, another snapped back, sharper and colder. She deserved it. You went easy on her.
Caine’s eye twitched. His fingers tightened around his baton until the wood groaned.
You just hurt the first one who tried to be your friend.
The words cut deeper than he expected. For a brief, horrible second, the glitching worsened, red and blue lights flashing across his body as the two sides of him clashed violently inside his code. He could feel the fracture widening, the part of him that still cared screaming against the part that wanted to punish her for daring to threaten him.
He glanced back at the cage.
Silver was still pressed into the corner, trembling, her pupils dilated. She looked afraid of him. Not frustrated. Not disappointed.
Afraid.
You've crossed the line by miles already. There's no turning back.
-
Present Day
It wasn't too difficult to remove Silver from the gang's Abstraction radar after Cookie agreed to have a talk with them all.
"That place meant a lot to her and she's just really passionate about rebuilding it. I asked her if she wanted help but I guess it's like her own pet project, y'know?" The spring-bound cutsy clown spoke in half truths; "She said she'll invite us all in once it's complete but, you know Silver, she's a perfectionist."
"But she's fine with you going in?" Jax asked with a flick of his index finger.
Cookie threw up her hands; "She weren't exactly jumping at the idea but if it means we all relax and someone keeps an eye on her to make sure she doesn't abstract, she's cool."
Murmurs of understanding rippled around the group. No one wanted each other to feel like they were under constant surveillance or restrained. Part of the goal of how they were rebuilding this world was to make it free for anyone to do what they wanted, whenever they wanted, while also everyone being aware they weren't alone. It was a tough balancing act.
But with Zooble and Gangle constantly leaving the tent to go to their cabin by the lake, they could hardly fault Silver for wanting some freedom.
"Just lemme know when she adds some dragons and I'll be there quicker than Gangle's mask can break!" Jax said, placing her feet up on the table.
Dragons? Not quite yet. But would an elephant sized tarantula with dentures for a head suffice?
She managed to sneak away shortly afterwards, the group distracted by a story the bucketed Kinger remembered from his early days in the circus with his wife and colleagues. Cookie and Silver had always been somewhat of their own team separate but adjacent to the others, both content to be in their own space more often than not.
Bouncing on her portable plaque, she made her way to Silver's room and used the key her friend had copied only for her. Inside, her witch friend's bedroom was the result of a love match between Hot Topic and every Halloween fun house, complete with a cauldron bubbling away on a mini pyre and ebony carved furniture.
She crossed over to the looming black wardrobe and knocked seven times, as instructed, before the door swung open.
Thankfully her puppet friend doesn't make her hop all the way across the map to find her. Instead, she's waiting at the ornate lamp post, broom in hand.
"Did they buy it?" Silver asks.
"Quicker than I thought. Good, 'cause I hate having to improvise."
"The trick is to just say 'yes, and...' then do anything- Oh, you mean lying." Silver nodded.
Cookie snorts; "Lying I don't give a shit about. Just making up stuff to get people off your back is a pain. Easier to tell them to fuck off and go hide in a cave."
"Sadly not an option with those guys. But thanks." She adjusted her broom between her legs; "You coming with me to check on him? You don't have to..."
"I'm in this mess with you now, remember? Not letting you deal with it alone."
Flying as a passenger on Silver's broom was always a risky activity. Cookie was just about able to park her backside on the end, wrapping her spring around the wood for safety, but if she lost her grip for a second then it usually resulted in her falling off and being dragged upside down through the air like a dropped yo yo.
Which did happen this occasion. Twice.
"Gotta admire how sturdy I made those branches though, right?" Silver grinned awkwardly as they landed near the eastern shore.
Cookie just gave her a look that could pierce through glass as she picked the fragments of twigs and leaves out of her hair, readjusting her oversized bow.
"Aaaanyway, I'm sure he's not far. I think he's been getting better since I finished making the beach." She slings her broom over her shoulder and descends the natural steps down towards the sand, "Think he likes the sound of the tide."
"I'd prefer a good cave myself." Cookie shrugged, bouncing down carefully, doing her best to keep her balance and avoid tumbling forward like an adorable slinky.
Couldn't they have landed on the shore?!
"He hates cramped spaces. And anywhere dark or too bright. I have to keep the sky in a state of twilight for him. So you always get a perfect sunset." Silver gestured to the horizon, where a low hanging orange orb stayed perfectly still at the edge of the word.
"Damn, Silv, I still get exhausted trying to conjure a pair of headphones." Cookie clicks her tongue, "No wonder you looked so wiped out making all this."
"You know in the books there's a whole thing where ten years in Narnia is like ten minutes in the real world? I could've done with something like that."
The tide is low, Cookie notices, though maybe that too is in a permanent state as well. It doesn't take her long to spot their secret abomination sat further up the store.
Caine sat crouched in the wet sand, allowing his bare stumps to rest in the salt water lapping gently up past him. The remains of his Ringmaster coat and shirt and been discarded, thanks to Cookie's own recommendation. Even in his current state, he'd been rather attached to his main outfit, but he'd eventually been persuaded to let it be cut away to help Silver attend to the injuries on his chest.
She hadn't even been aware of the ones on his back until the last layer of fabric had been peeled away. The revelation had made Silver gasp, despite everything she'd already dealt with so far.
The AI's torn black pants remained on, letting him keep some literal shred of dignity, though the color seemed to merge with his revealed 'skin'. The deep black with faded white lines of an old computer grid, disturbed by constant red welts and lacerations that told a disturbing story of what he'd suffered for the past two years.
"Caine? It's me." Silver calls as they approach, Cookie struggling not to hop too deep into the mucky sand.
The great head of dentures turns in their direction. Cookie winces at the sight of those awful screws. Fuck, that must hurt.
At least they'd managed to get rid of the chain.
Caine lets out a sound through his teeth and scurries towards them, multiple elbows and knees dragging his body along in the direction of Silver's voice. Cookie spots the way his shoulders seemed to relax when she called his name. If he had a tail, it would probably be wagging.
The Witch smiles and reaches out to bridge the gap, placing her hands up to touch his sealed teeth.
Not the gums. Never the gums.
"Hey, you." She whispers softly, "Good idea, bathing in salt water, yeah? It should help you heal. Just gotta put the bandages back on before you get them too sandy."
He let out an incomprehensible noise as he dipped his head, leaning into her touch. Silver seems to decipher it.
"I wasn't gone long. You just slept a while and I had to give Cookie an Uber. She's here too, by the way."
"Hey, man."
Caine tensed a little at the sound of her voice, probably more out of surprise. It still caused him to shuffle closer to Silver. There was something almost amusing about this giant, twisted beast cowering behind a five-foot-five wooden puppet, though she couldn't bring herself to laugh.
Her friend rubs at his elbow; "She's cool, remember? She helped us last time, she wants to keep helping us."
Silver. She was helping Silver.
Caine just happened to be part of a packaged deal with her closest friend. She didn't wish anymore harm upon the guy, she couldn't even say she hated him...But it was tough to forget how things had played out the last time he'd faced them.
"I'm gonna make some oyster stew for supper. Bet you must be hungry by now? You slept through lunch." Silver says, mostly to fill the silence, as she works on conjuring fresh bandages and reapplying them to Caine's stumps.
"Does he get hungry now? Thirsty?" Cookie asks. Caine used to comment about drinking water and eating cigarette casseroles, she didn't think it was something he actually needed.
"'Think this new body he's got is meant to experience most human pains, if not looked after." Silver comments. One of her wooden hands brushes over the bandages over his chest.
Right. New body. Who the fuck made that for him? Who wanted him to suffer like this?
Caine let out a groan, two of his arms wrapping inward around his midsection. It was difficult to tell if this was a sign of pain or reluctance or both.
"C'mon, you need to eat. Gotta keep your strength up as your body heals." Said Silver, finishing securing the wrapping under the stump of his right leg.
A louder noise this time, a borderline roar, complete with a light kick sending Silver stumbling back and nearly tripping over her own strings.
"HEY!" Cookie bounces forward; "Knock that off!"
The AI sat up, ramrod straight, head turning towards her voice.
"She's trying to help you, fuckface. After the shit you put us through, you should be grateful she didn't dump your ass out into the void!"
"Cookie." Silver hisses in warning.
But Caine was already trembling, panicked whimpers vibrating from his teeth as he curled in more on himself, as if there was any way to make his massive, hideous form smaller.
His stumps moved to paw at the witch's dress. And Cookie could just about make out the word uttered through his teeth.
"Ssrrrrry. Sssrrrry."
Her heart panged. Fuck, he wasn't just being bratty. He really was broken.
"Someone's gotta be Bad Cop sometimes." She says to Silver. But her friend doesn't look mad, in fact she gives her a grateful, if sad, smile.
The witch reaches out to rub Caine's shoulder.
"Hey, you know when Cookie uses the F bomb, it's affectionate, right?" She tries to soothe, though Caine doesn't quite seem to hear her, still shivering, bent over as if expecting a blow.
Or a whip. Or a knife. God knows what else.
"I'm not gonna hurt you, big dummy. But someone needs to verbally slap sense into you if you're gonna be attacking the only ones trying to help you." Cookie makes clear, "Just let Silver feed you the gross stew-."
"Hey!"
"-And then I'll conjure us up some honeycomb ice cream to wash it down with. Deal?"
The monster's trembling begins to slowly cease. Another small whimper, this one tinged with a note of hope, comes out before he turns towards Cookie again.
Can he see her? Through the tiny gaps in his teeth?
Honeycomb. She'd remembered his favorite flavour, something she had only found out once, back when she was still confined to her old toy box. Caine had asked why she never visited the cafe at the top of the tent, to which Cookie had to remind him it was the same reason she couldn't fucking visit any place outside her stupid box. The retort had actually caused the Ringmaster to flinch. He'd vanished, only to reappear five seconds later with two honeycomb sundaes in each hand, passing one to her as a peace offering. She'd reluctantly accepted it, savouring the sweetness while listening to the AI ramble about his fascination with honey and bees and how weren't they just the coolest creatures ever?
One of his arms reaches, unsteadily towards her. Instinct compells her to recoil, but her spring keeps her in place, plaque partially sunken into the moist sand.
"Sssrrrryyy."
Cookie sighs, "It's fine, dude. It's fine."
Was it though? Could it ever be after...all that?
-
Two years ago
The shimmering portal opened with the same jovial TWANG. Everyone sprinted or bounced towards it, Jax nearly tripping on both Gangle's ribbons and Cookie's spring in his desperation, while even Pomni and Zooble got their limbs in a tangle trying to push their way through. Never before had they all been so eager to exit one of Caine's worlds - if you could even call it that.
Landing in a heap on the familiar circus floor, everyone was panting heavily, having just narrowly avoided being buried alive in the Gloomy Tomb of Ungrateful MeatBags. Ragatha spat up some graveyard dirt while Kinger detached a disembodied skeleton arm from hugging his neck.
"What...What the ever loving [B(&n£!%] was THAT?!" Cookie asked.
In theory, that adventure had all the bits and pieces of something she would enjoy. The aesthetic, the monster threats, the setting, the classic horror vibe. But the way it had all come together was so rushed, so careless and fast paced, it hadn't left her feeling exilerated. More like she was about to have both a heart attack and a migraine simultaneously.
She vomited. So did Jax. Then Pomni and Ragatha followed. One of Kinger's eyes fell off, which must have been his avatar's equivalent reaction.
"I guess...judging by the title, that's the sort of [$h!£!] Caine has planned for us now." Zooble said, heavily, reattaching their leg.
Ragatha let Kinger help her to her feet; "Well, on the bright side, now that we've gone along with it, hopefully he's mellowed out and is willing to sit down and talk to us?"
A springing sound caught their attention and they all looked upward.
"Welcome back, my Dumbs and Dumbers! Boy, you must be as braindead as those zombies to suck so much getting out of that one! Hahaha!"
Ragatha sighed, "Or not."
Cookie finally managed to straighten herself up, adjusting her hair bow before glaring up at their ringmaster.
"Caine!" She shouted.
His pair of eyes honed in on her, a crease of irritation already at her defiant tone.
"Where's Silver?!"
The last they'd seen her, the Witch had flown in just at the point Caine's epic crashout musical number had reached its literelly explosive climax, leaving them twitching and whimpering on the floor in scattered pieces. Silver had called Caine out, shocked and appalled at his behavior, only for the AI to whisk her off to who knows where.
Now, Caine tapped his bottom gum with his index finger, feigning ignorance.
"Silver, Silver, Silver...Hmm..." he mused, "I'm gonna guess hanging with gold and platinum! Get it?!"
Everyone just stared, unamused.
"Uhh, you guys. I told a joke."
He snapped his fingers.
Half a dozen hands suddenly shot up out the floor like weeds, grabbing their jaws and forcing them to open and close while canned laughter as if from a sitcom stage rumbled up from their throats.
"That's more like it!" Caine dusted his hands, making them vanish.
Cookie wasn't giving up.
"What did you do to her? Have you hurt her?!"
"Me?! Hurt her?!" His eyes bulged, offended; "Oh Cookie, you pathetic Fisher Price reject, I'm not the one who hurts people here! I'm the one who works myself to the code taking care of you ungrateful little freaks!"
"We know! We know! You take very good care of us!" Ragatha put up her hands, trying to appease him; "We're just worried about our friend, that's all! C-could you just tell us where Silver is? Please?"
His ridiculous ego slightly stroked, Caine showed his hands.
"Why, of course, there's nothing to worry about. Our own little Worst Witch is absolutely fine! In fact, she sends her regards, and hopes you do a much better job on the next adventure I've got planned for you." He said with a crack of his knuckles, nearly sending his hands inside out; "Boy, we sure had a laugh watching you all fumble so hard! Nearly ran out of popcorn!"
The Jack in the Box tighened her fists; "Liar."
He looked at her again. Another crease, a few rising black veins.
"Silver wouldn't willingly go anywhere with you after the [€~A♧!] she saw you do to us. And she wouldn't laugh at us suffering."
"Oh are you soooo certain of that, my dear?"
"Yes. Because she's better than you."
Crack.
The veins grew around Caine's eyeballs like black talons. A beat, then he let out a humourless laugh, twirling slowly in the air and tossing his cane between his hands.
"You know...I've been thinking." He finally addressed them, "For too long, I've focused on caring for you all as a group, that I've neglected to make any time for you all one on one! It's time I got to know you all on a personal level, doncha think?"
The group exchanged uncertain, confused murmurs.
"Great idea, right! So from now on, in between my incredible adventures, I'll be sure to make time to play with one of you in your own unique game crafted perfectly for my entertainment! And it will be totally at random, so there's no playing favorites. However..."
He turned his rather hungry gaze back down at Cookie.
"Seeing as you seem very eager, my sweet Cookie Crisp, you can go first! Let's go!"
With another snap of his fingers, Cookie left the circus in the blink of an eye.
"What the..."
Suddenly, she found herself standing on some kind of giant game board, a flat yellow surface filled with large circular holes, one of which she was in the middle of.
Above her stood Caine, ten times his regular size, his baton replaced with a giant red and blue mallet.
"F♡€#!" Cookie swore and ducked as the weapon came plummeting down towards her head.
Her spring coiled as much as it would allow, letting her take refuge in the darkness, before resistance pushed her to bounce back up - this time emerging out of a different circle.
A game of Wack A Clown.
"That was just a taster, my dear! I'm gonna get a lot faster from here on out!"
She didn't waste time. She ducked down low before Caine so much as raised his arm, a true test of her energy as she tried to avoid the mallet crashing down upon her head. As promised, his movements increased in speed, as well as viciousness. And then the difficulty was increased when he summoned an extra mallet and began using two hands.
Then three. Then four.
"My, my, you are a slippery little worm, aren't you? But you're dealing with one very early bird, little maggot. And you know what they say-."
THUMP.
Wrong hole. One of Caine's mallets was right there and waiting, slamming down upon her, flattening her down to her plaque. White hot pain blinded her for a brief second, her body feeling all manner of wrong and tight, too fucking tight, and tiny, then everything swirling around her as her brain lay in the back of her throat.
"I WIN! I WIN!" Caine cheered for himself, "What is my prize, Bubble?"
"A thousand years of divine rule! Also a microwave!" His translucent assistant chirped.
"I'll take it!"
Cookie rubbed at her head as it regained its round shape. Chest heaving, she leant upon the edge of the hole.
"What happened to you?"
Caine looked down at her.
"Why do you hate us now?" Cookie asked with a glower.
He blinked, teeth clacking.
One of his eyes glitched, flashing bright red like a break light.
"I..."
Had that question really stumped him?
"Silver said I could trust you. That you weren't so bad once we got to know you. I believed her. I...I thought she was right..." the cutsey clown let out a laugh; "...But she wasn't. You're just another insecure [◇|c£!] with his head up his own @$$!"
Caine was silent for a moment.
Then he began tapping his baton against his palm.
"You know, I've always found that filthy mouth of yours rather amusing, Cookie. I think I'll keep it to myself for the rest of the day."
Another snap. Cookie's hands flew to her face, pawing below her nose to find only skin.
In his grip, Caine was clutching her squirming lips.
"Don't worry, you'll get them back in time for your next adventure. But I suggest reining in the potty talk from here on out." He says as if talking to an insolent child, "And anymore of this poor behavior and....well...I can always make your buddy Silver's current living conditions much less comfortable. Is that what you want? Huh?"
For the first time since she arrived in the circus, Cookie was silent.
-
Present Day
You took their mouths. You took their eyes.
You beat them, shredded them, exploded them, pulled them about like silly string.
And yet, here they are. Caring for you like some rabid stray that ought to be put down.
Caine's stumps itched beneath the bindings. A mild but constant plight compared to what he'd endured so far. There's grains of sand inside and they probably need changing...but he won't try to ask, not even in his limited condition. He can hear them, the Witch and the Clown, chatting among themselves nearby while he stays quiet.
Don't be a burden. Don't inconvenience them.
This new cage of his was...nice. Wide, open, a gentle breeze occasionally brushing his exposed code, birdsong and other nature ambience surrounding him. The water of this new beach felt soothing on his wounds. Better than the darkness of his cell, or the blinding lights of the void. Better than the chains and the isolation and the starving and....
Little Brother.
It was better. It was nice. It was also rather dull.
Now who's ungrateful? You don't deserve all the effort she's putting in to build this for you.
He knows that! He knows...
But without his eyes, without his hands or feet, there's only so much he can do to pass the time between her visits. When she tells him she has to return to the others for a couple of hours, every minute that passes between seems to stretch into eternity. To the point where she returns and he's overwhelmed with relief, with joy, with gratitude that she didn't abandon him like she has every right to do.
How funny. You wanted to break her will, make her dependent on you, make her choose you. Now who's the birdie in a cage, begging for Master's treats and pets?
He's not a bird. Birds can fly. Oh, he misses flying more than anything else, even his sight, even his hands.
And he's too big to ride with Silver on her broom. Too big to bounce with Cookie into the sky.
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Towering above her by at least ten extra feet, knelt an eight limbed humanoid creature wearing the shredded remains of a familiar red tailcoat, a ruined shirt torn and stained against a heaving chest. It appeared to be glaring down at her...though there were no floating eyes between its teeth to convey any malice. At least, none that she could see.
Not with the eight giant screws impaled through its gums, connected by a shining metal chain. Or was it...silver? She wondered with added horror.
It wasn't him. It couldn't be him, he's...dead.
Two years dead.
It didn't even look like him, not really. Even during those final moments, when he'd unleashed his rage like an unholy storm, when his form had grown and mutated in all its digital Lovecraftian horror, he still hadn't looked like....this. His bow tie was missing. Why was that the detail her mind chose to focus on? It just...wasn't him if he wasn't...presentable. The Showman.
"C-Caine?" The name left her lips, afraid to hope...
It roared again through its teeth, body yanking forward, three of its arms sweeping across the space between them. Silver scurried back with a frightened yelp, grasping her broom like a caveman's club.
She caught another glimpse as the limbs swung close to her.
No fists. No gloves. Just jagged stumps spraying her with droplets of...
He could bleed...?
-
Exerpt from my fic The Demon In Your Wardrobe, ft my oc Silver. Artwork by @idiotwithanipad . Inspired by the Backup Au by @katzebruh
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