Chapter Text
The day was off. A rare, unprecedented, and utterly baffling state of affairs in The Amazing Digital Circus.
Caine, usually a whirlwind of manic energy and compulsory adventure, had floated into the main tent that morning, clacked his gleaming teeth, and with an uncharacteristically subdued wave of his baton, declared, “No adventure today! A free day! For… contemplation! Yes! Go contemplate… things!” He’d then popped Bubble three times in rapid succession out of sheer, directionless energy and zipped into the ceiling, leaving a shower of glittering confetti in his wake.
The inhabitants stood in stunned silence. Zooble reassembled their mismatched limbs with a series of soft clicks. “He’s broken,” they stated flatly.
“Maybe he’s plotting something extra horrible,” Jax mused, a wicked grin spreading across his rabbit face.
“Oh, I’m sure he just thought we needed a rest!” Ragatha chirped, though her button eye held a flicker of suspicion.
Pomni simply shrugged. “A day without nearly being dissolved by something sounds good to me.”
They drifted apart. Kinger muttered about checking the pillow structure it his pillow fort, Gangle, her comedy mask miraculously intact, trailed after Ragatha. Jax vanished, likely to find a quiet corner to set a prank. The tent was left in an eerie, unfamiliar quiet, the candy-colored lights dimmed to a soft glow.
It was into this strange peace that the new one arrived.
One moment, a patch of the pixelated floor in the center ring was empty. The next, she was simply… there. Standing.
She was tall and slender, a silhouette of gothic elegance against the circus's garish palette. Light purple skin of a uniform plastic sheen, from the tips of her short, sculpted blonde hair to the toes of her low-heeled black boots with white gaiters. A delicate pink blouse disappeared under a high, white lace collar that framed her face like a ruff. A pink brooch held it all together. A long, black skirt with a wide belt and extravagant lace at the hem pooled around her legs, and from her shoulders swept a black cape that seamlessly fused into her sleeves, giving the impression of folded bat wings. Her most striking features were her closed left eye, its lid smooth and permanent as if carved shut, and the subtle points of her fangs peeking from her lips.
She did not scream. She did not gasp or hyperventilate. She blinked her one good eye-a vivid, intelligent green-and slowly looked down at her hands, turning them over. She looked at her clothes, at the impossible architecture of the tent around her. A low, exasperated sound escaped her.
“...What the f-”
The word was cut off abruptly, not by her own volition, but replaced by a comical, cheerful honk!
She froze. Her one visible eye widened.
Her pointed ears, previously still, began a rapid, twitching flutter, moving up and down like distressed moth wings. She closed her eye, took a deep, steadying breath that her new digital form didn’t technically need, and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Right. Okay. Muted. Digital. Plastic. Not a dream, dreams aren’t this coherently stupid.” Her voice was a low, pleasant alto, laced with a profound, bone-deep tiredness. It was the voice of someone who had just dealt with a long, overstimulating commute only to find their home replaced by a funhouse.
“SURPRISE!”
The air shattered. Lights flashed, trumpets blared a deafeningly off-key fanfare, and confetti cannon exploded directly above her head, showering her in neon paper. Caine descended from the rafters in a spiraling dive, his tailcoat flapping, his dentures stretched in a massive, gleeful grin. He came to a hover directly in front of her face, his mismatched eyes swirling with excitement.
Woman flinched hard, a full-body recoil. Her hands flew up, the cape-wings flaring momentarily as if to shield her. The auditory and visual assault was a physical blow. Her ears were a vibrating blur.
“WELCOME, welcome, WELCOME, new participant, to THE AM-A-ZING DIGITAL CIRCUS!” Caine boomed, gesturing grandly with his baton. “I am your magnificent, marvelous, master of merriment, CAINE! And YOU are… uh…” He leaned in, his floating eyes scanning her. “A bat? A spooky doll! A vampire princess! Ooh, very thematic, very moody, I LOVE the aesthetic! You are like-”
“Where,” new one interrupted, her voice flat, cutting through his torrent of words. The single green eye was fixed on him, not with fear or awe, but with the focused intensity of a technician diagnosing a faulty machine. ".. am I?... "
Caine paused, his jaw-dropping open slightly in surprise. “Where? Why, you’re HERE! In the most fun-filled, adventure-packed, endlessly entertaining simulation ever conceived! A permanent vacation from the boring, gray, real world!” He said the last two words with a dramatic shudder.
Her eye didn’t waver. The ear-twitching had slowed to a tense tremor. “Why do I look like a rejected gothic toy? Why can’t I swear?”
Caine’s levitation stuttered for a second. New arrivals were usually crying, or panicking, or babbling questions. They didn’t stand there like a solemn, purple monolith and ask these questions. He recovered, his grin snapping back into place, though it seemed a touch more strained. “That’s your avatar! Isn’t it just darling? Spooky-cute! And language is, well, this is a family-friendly establishment! Mostly! Now!” He clapped his gloved hands together. “You’ll need a name! What shall we call our new batty friend? Spookette? Lady Nibble? Miss Gloom-Gloom?”
The green eye narrowed. A long, silent beat passed. She doesn't remember her name.. Confusion washed over her but she didn't say anything. “...Elly,” she said, finally. Simple. Real. A anchor point in the absurdity.
“Elly! SPECTACULAR!” Caine bellowed. “A lovely name for a lovely new guest! Now, you must meet the others! They’re just DYING to meet you! Well, not dying, haha, figures of speech! Mostly!”
He didn’t give her a chance to respond. He snapped his fingers with a sound like a cracking whip.
Pop!
In a series of disorienting flashes, the other inhabitants materialized in a loose, confused semicircle around them. Ragatha appeared mid-stitch on her arm. Zooble coalesced from a jumble of parts. Kinger yelped and hid behind Gangle, who squeaked and almost dropped her comedy mask. Jax materialized with a bored slouch, already looking for an exit from the social interaction. Pomni blinked, looking from Caine to the new arrival with calm curiosity.
“TADA!” Caine announced, gesturing to the group. “Elly, meet your new fellow circus-mates! Circus-mates, meet Elly! She’s our new permanent resident of perpetual playtime! Now, I’ve given you all the day off, so this is just perfect for some quality getting-to-know-you bonding! No adventures required! Isn’t that nice? HAVE FUN!”
And with a final, exaggerated wink and a shower of gold sparks, he vanished. The tent was silent again, the oppressive, cheerful noise leaving with him.
The group stared at Elly. Elly stared back, her single eye sweeping over each of them: the rag doll, the jester, the chess piece, the ribbon, the rabbit, the… collection of angry plastic parts. Her gaze lingered on Zooble for a half-second longer, taking in their defiantly mismatched form.
The social energy in the room was already beginning to curdle into awkwardness. Elly could feel it like a static charge. The bright lights of the tent felt too sharp. She could hear the faint, perpetual carnival music looping somewhere in the distance, a tinny, irritating itch at the edge of her perception.
Her ears gave one last, definitive twitch.
She took another slow, deliberate breath she didn’t need. The initial shock had worn off, replaced by a deep, familiar exhaustion and a prickling sense of overstimulation. The objective was clear now, if profoundly stupid: survive this.
She looked at the assembled digital faces, all waiting for her to make the first move-to scream, to cry, to ask a million frantic questions.
Elly simply straightened the front of her blouse, adjusted the brooch on her frill with a precise, almost ritualistic motion, and gave the smallest, most weary nod.
“Right,” she said, her low voice cutting the silence. “So. Which one of you is going to explain what the actual f$#@ is going on here?”
And as the expected honk! sounded, she didn’t even flinch. She just closed her eye, sighed, and waited for the circus to begin.