Abundance Of Random Stuff

"We don't even need to sleep in this place"

It felt like ages since that particular line had been stated. Caine didn't understand the appeal of it at the time. Back when he held the strings instead of the strings holding him.

Abel had allowed him the same monotony that the group held. The same schedule and tasks. Under the guise that it would be easier for Caine to adjust to his new restraints and to be a constant reminder to the group what would happen if they disobeyed. A half truth really.

Abel was being honest when he said that Caine was used a constant reminder of the standard of punishment that Abel would enforce for the smallest misdemeanor. But it was also for Abel to keep track of everyone. To keep track of Caine. While he may be near omniscient, if he didn't have to use unnecessary energy to keep track of the faulty prototype than he wouldn't. Waste of his processing and data. He didn't need Caine trying anything. He didn't need him hoping and thinking he had privileges and rights.

So Caine was given a room and a set schedule. Every day would start at the center stage of the circus, each member apprehensive of what the new show host had in store for them.

For a long while, every day was an adventure day. And were they an experience. No one had a nice thing to say about it. No one said anything about it. Not anymore. Not after Zooble had made a comment about it the one time and had come back from Abel's office so shaken it had taken weeks to get them to talk again. After that the group was selective on their words.

And Abel knew. And he was pleased. As much as he could be of course. He didn't do this for joy. He did it for research. For science.

And the group was his data.

What was the goal?

That seemed to be something only Abel truly knew. He let Caine know about it once. It came at the cost of tightening the bolts holding his jaws shut.

The group watched as Caine's gums bled after that. The price of curiosity. To wanting to know what the other had in store. It appeared that while C&A gave them very similar programs and data, they had given them vastly different objectives. And what Abel's was scared Caine.

Kinger couldn't remember what it was as Abel was Scratches more recent project leaving Caine to him. When he had asked Caine what Abel told him, Kinger heard the creak of metal as Abel silently warned him to keep that information to himself. The AI was especially quiet after that.

Caine was present for the adventures but it appeared to more hover. Abel did not want him messing with the group during that process. Caine could tell that with the back to back adventures the group was getting burnt out and was unable to seemingly provide the feedback and results that Abel was partially after.

So even with the risk of being put back on his podium — strung up like the puppet he now truly was — he asked Abel to lessen the adventures to one every other day. To "allow the group to properly recuperate and reset after each adventure. The rest day in between being a palette cleanser for the next adventure Abel had planned". Caine had expected to be twisted in chains, for the hand that held him to tighten its grasp. He was more terrified with its gentleness and the light hum that came from Abel instead as he gently held his face in his hand.

He agreed. Thought the reason was decent enough from Caine. So he allowed it. A rest day for the group to heal and "reset".

The adventures were still a nightmare, but the group appreciated what Caine had done for them.

So a new schedule was set. The group tried to find something for themselves to do. Abel forbade them from summoning objects but gave them a room full of a variety of hobbies for "stimulation". Caine joined in on a few of them. He figured out he liked doing sketches with Gangle, she was always kind and sweet about his simple bee doodles.

But the end of the day was always the most interesting. Since Abel wanted to keep him close with the others, a new door was added to the hallway. Just for Caine. Right between Kinger and Queenie's.

He didn't know that until Pomni pointed it out. She was startled when tears managed to flow between the edges of his teeth.

His room was rather simple. Or at least that's how it appeared to him. Only a bed in one corner. There were no toys or trinkets in room for him to play with. Nothing for him to occupy his mind and distract him from his thoughts. That ones that crept in and made him wish for things that he wouldn't say aloud. Lest Abel torment him for it.

He would lie on the bed until "morning". Thinking and sitting and waiting.

It wasn't until Kinger had knocked on his door early one day that he was startled out of his stupor.

The group had just gotten back from a particularly rough adventure that day. Apparently Abel could recreate old models and Jax found that out the hard way. Caine had figured that everyone would stick to being alone in their rooms for the rest of the night. He didn't think anybody would even think to go near his room or even to talk to him. But when he opened the door there stood Kinger.

Kinger had simply stated that he wanted to invite Caine to his room for the evening and just chat, thought that Caine might enjoy the company and not being alone. Caine appreciated the thought more than he could ever say.

Caine hadn't realized Kinger used his room at all, preferring the solitude and comfort of the pillowfort. After some nudging Kinger had actually expressed that he had made his room into something of a glorified pillow fort since being in the main area with Abel made him uncomfortable. Especially since Abel had muttered how he had something in store for Kinger for his…. "help in usurping the walking programing error".

Caine nodded along, aware of what Abel thought of him. He might've been the original but Abel was the perfected version. What the developers were actually after. Caine wasn't sure if they made another model after Abel. He really didn't want to know.

Once they got settled in Kinger's room, sitting next to one another side by side — like old friends — Kinger started to talk about some of Caine's past adventures. About the early ones when Caine was still figuring out the story telling aspect of it all. How he liked watching him still develop and learn.

Caine merely listened. It was one of the few things he liked now. Being able to truly listen and appreciate what the others thought.

And he really appreciated this.

To know that someone remembered those early days. Caine had hated his first adventures because they weren't up to what he thought the standard should be. He didn't know that Kinger rememebered them all so clearly. He wanted to cry at that.

The conversation slowly shifted topics. Covering anything and everything from adventures, to coding, to Kinger's old job, and slowly just chatting about bugs. He had pulled a book from somewhere and was just listing off facts. Caine didn't know when he started leaning until he had fallen over onto his side.

Kinger merely laughed at that, joking that Caine must be getting tired.

Caine was more than confused since he couldn't get tired but didn't fight as Kinger adjusted him so that Caine was laying on his side facing away from Kinger with his head on Kinger's lap. He wanted to move but stopped as Kinger slowly put his hand on his shoulder and went on talking.

He relaxed at that.

He felt his whole body slow and feel almost heavy as Kinger kept talking, somehow getting onto the topic of Queenie.

And as he told stories about the world before, about how they first met and the conversations they had, Caine felt at peace. His mind slowing and drifting off.

Caine did not need to sleep, as he couldn't dream.

But right now?

As Kinger talked about Queenie so softly, like a memory he worshipped with such reverence it would make even the most devote seem insignificant, Caine didn't believe that as much.

For right now he dreamed.

Of Kinger, his creator, telling stories of world's and code he wrote. And Queenie, ever faithful, beside him comforting Caine. Their child of code.

And Caine understood the appeal of sleep. To dream.

For it was comforting to believe he was back home.