Work Text:
"Look!"
Caine sprung up excitedly, extending a gloved finger toward the rolling digital hills. At his side, Pomni startled at his sudden enthusiasm but followed the direction he was pointing at. She squinted, making out a small, buzzing bumblebee zipping around them until it landed upon digital fuchsias, satisfied. She raised an eyebrow at the sight; sweet, perhaps, but certainly simple.
Then, she glanced over at Caine--his heterochromic pupils were wide with adoration. Such a simple sight for an AI used to a wacky world; and yet, there he was, utterly infatuated with a small creature.
A smile spread across Pomni's features before she could help it. These past months, she had come to befriend Caine in an attempt to make the adventures less...traumatizing. And yet, months later, she found herself with the most infuriating, nonsensical crush she had ever had. In her defense, who knew an AI set of teeth could be so charming?
"They say that bumblebees shouldn't be able to fly, the scientists."
Pomni's gaze returned to the bumblebee. Then back to Caine. "But... there it is, collecting pollen," she tried to contribute. She had never thought of bees much before, aside from the fact that they sting and that she was wary around them. But Caine spoke of bees like a fine art, and though she worried her comment was a weak way of showing it, she liked that about him.
Caine, however, adored any and all attention he recieved from the jester. His eyes flicked away, taking a break from gazing in adoration at the bumblebee to give Pomni his attention.
His eyes looked just as adoring.
"How miraculous that it came to be,” he agreed, voice filled with wonder.
A flutter of butterflies in her stomach. She tried to ignore it, clearing her throat and turning her flushed face forward.
He snapped his fingers, generating a notepad and a pencil. Pomni watched curiously over his shoulder. She was aware that Caine had become fond of drawing since he’d become sentient, and she couldn’t help but find it endearing. For an AI, his art was surprisingly genuine in its simplicity. He had advanced in his designs of NPCs--Orbsman being one of the first, Gummigoo being more recent--but his art style remained the same. It was oddly cute. Pomni could swear that his eyes shone with a cartoonish gleam; he was truly enamored with the humming bee.
She leaned back, resting on her elbows. Her eyes trailed along every scratch of him sketching, every tap of the pencil on the pad. The scenery around them, though uncanny, was peaceful—apart from how the Sun grinned down at the two. That heightened her fight-or-flight response.
The others were away on an adventure. Pomni had been privately invited to a mellow picnic (she wasn't aware that "mellow" was in Caine's vocabulary) with the ringmaster himself. Their private adventures were more and more frequent these days, and Pomni had, with time, accepted the possibility that Caine had either developed a crush on her, or just really, really liked validation. She didn't know for sure, and she doubted that he knew either.
He was humming blissfully, resting on his torso and kicking his feet up behind him.
Bumblebees weren't meant to fly.
Computer programs weren't meant to become sentient and fall for a 25-year-old, anxiety-ridden accountant jester.
But it was quite a real possibility. Pomni was well-aware of all the stunts he pulled to impress her, or how he would specifically seek out her approval after adventures. And the worst part was, she found herself secretly hoping he did like her.
"Miraculous," Pomni repeated absent-mindedly.
Caine stopped drawing for a moment to enthusiastically shove the sketch pad in her face. "Miraculous, indeed, my luscious little lemon drop!” he said. “What do you think of my bee-sona?"
Pomni snapped out of her thoughts, gently pushing the sketch pad further away to allow her eyes to adjust. "Uh..." she began, taking in the drawing of a bumblebee with a top hat, "it looks...great."
Caine beamed--or at least, what she perceived as a beam. "Doesn't it?" he said proudly. He pulled his sketchbook back to his chest, hugging his creation close to his code with pride, and then flipped to the next page, also shoving that before her eyes. "I even drew Bubble as a speck of pollen!"
Pomni squinted at the page, which was entirely blank aside from a minuscule dot at the center. "W-wow," she said, trying her best to act impressed, "that's, uh...good job, Caine."
If there was one thing Pomni had discovered about Caine, it was that he lived for praise -- particularly when it came from her. Sure enough, the AI ringmaster was practically kicking his feet from the jester's weak attempt at praise. "I had a feeling you'd like it, my rectangular rutabaga!" he sat up enthusiastically, gloved index finger pointed at her, "Because I wanted you to be my next subject!"
Pomni felt a hot surge of nerves coarse through her. Sitting still, being stared at and artistically recreated sounded like a goddamn nightmare. Not to mention, Caine's eyes being on her would certainly make her blush. "W-well -- "
Caine lifted a few inches above the ground, seemingly unable to keep his feet on the ground for more than a minute. He floated towards her, bringing a hand to her cheek. Pomni blushed, thrown off by his unexpected tenderness. Then, he stretched out her pale skin like rubber, observing it with a finger on his chin before letting it snap back to her skull with a snap!. Pomni rubbed her face, wincing at the sensation. Of course--this was Caine she was talking about. He certainly wouldn't make such a bold move, at least without making it a cartoonish gag.
He floated to her side, lifting her arms, and then flew to her other side to twirl her hair, and then fiddling with the bells of her hat. It was too rapid for Pomni to fully process, but all she knew is that he was taking in every inch of her form.
"You have quite the ideal model for drawing, my dear!" Caine beamed, settling in the air with his legs crossed in front of her. His sketchbook and pencil, which were aimlessly floating in the air, now resided in his gloved hands.
Pomni blushed, rubbing at her face still. "Thanks," she mumbled, still trying to process what happened.
"You're welcome!" Caine said proudly. He began scribbling away, tongue peeking over his bottom set of teeth as he focused.
It was admittedly endearing, and Pomni felt her heart swell at the sight of him so passionate. She cursed herself for feeling so swayed by such little things. God, she was too far gone. She snapped back to reality, acutely aware that she was sitting awkwardly still as he sketched her in rare silence. "So, uh," Pomni began, clearing her throat. Since when had she tried to make small talk? "You, uh, draw?" she immediately inwardly cringed at her question.
But Caine, out of either kindness or obliviousness, paid her awkwardness no heed. "Indeed I do, my beguiling buttercup!" Then, his eyes detached from their usual spot between his jaws, peering above the sketchbook instead. "What gave it away?"
Pomni smiled, a small laugh escaping her. It was a small inkling of sarcasm but nonetheless, his playful response seemed so human. So unlike the version of him from months ago that would have taken her question literally. He was growing more human every day.
Caine seemed overjoyed by the jester’s genuine laugh, no matter how small it was. His eyes returned to their usual places. He lowered the sketchpad and tapped the pencil’s eraser to his jaws as he watched her. “Would you care to rate your experience?” he asked, beaming.
“Huh?” Pomni snapped out of her laughter in confusion.
“On a scale from one to ten, how much did you enjoy my response?”
“Uh…”
“If you could use one word to describe your experience, what would it be?” Caine continued. He zipped in front of her. “Exhilarating?” —here, he began to juggle his eyes—“Hilarious?”—and then rested his jaws on his fist, meeting her eyes. “Charmed?” he asked, voice lowered in exaggeration.
Pomni eyed him warily. “Uhh….charmed,” she settled on. Technically it was true.
“SPLENDID!” Caine announced, limbs extending outwards in excitement. He flew back to his seated position, drawing. “I’ll automatically generate more charming replies in the future, just for you, my dear!”
“Oh, [%$?#].” Pomni swore under her breath, Caine thankfully too preoccupied to notice the censor bar concealing her mouth.
She couldn’t meet his eyes as he drew her. The time seemed to tick by slowly, making her feel heat rising from every inch of her cartoonish body. [%$?#], couldn’t he just randomly generate a bee with a snap of his fingers? Why was this taking so long?
Then again, she liked that about him. He could do that, but he specifically chose to sketcu it out organically, to watch the paper darken with each stroke of his cartoonishly-large pencil. His code could probably let him create lifeless works of art, like the paintings scattered through the circus, but there was a genuine spirit in his silly bee-sona drawing.
All this was to say, he was actively straying from his code, just by feeling passionate about something.
And, to her embarrassment, it gave her hope that maybe, just maybe, he could feel something for her.
Pomni broke out of her thoughts. She almost felt ashamed for even thinking that. "I, uh, thought making adventures was your art," she broke the silence awkwardly, shifting the conversation back to his drawing.
"Of course it is, my dilly-dallying dill pickle. But oh...aren't bees so cute?" Caine's eyes lit up as a couple of digital bumblebees buzzed by. "Listen, Pomni! Do you hear their sweet little symphony of buzzing?"
Pomni listened closely. She heard it very well, but her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Caine's wide, shining pupils. "Yeah, I do. It's...nice," she said, a gentle smile on her face. She caught a glance of his drawing, but she didn't see her bee-sona. Only sketches of her, sitting before him. She raised an eyebrow.
"Ah, ah, ah! No peeking!" Caine quickly objected, swiping his notebook out of view. He wagged a gloved indez finger in her face. "Just because you're my favorite little jester doesn't give you peeking privileges!”
Pomni played along, covering her eyes with her gloved hands. "Okay, okay. I'm not peeking. Just...are you almost done?" she asked, eager to not be stared at by the ringmaster any longer.
"Of course, of course," Caine brushed off, returning to sketching. Pomni took that as permission to lower her hands. It didn't make her feel any less uncomfortable with suddenly becoming a model.
And God, he was taking forever. Didn't he have a photographic memory or something? Was that even how sentient programs worked?
Occasionally, their eyes would meet. Caine, simply looking at the details of her form to draw her bee-sona; Pomni, watching him passionately sketching, blushing when he caught her looking. Of course, the AI thought nothing of it, nor did he notice the heat rising to Pomni's pale face. But those brief moments made Pomni's heart race.
“ALL DONE!” Caine suddenly announced, lifting up the sketch pad with wide, enthusiastic eyes.
Pomni jumped in surprise, but relaxed when she realized the torture of being drawn was over. "Oh, thank God," she mumbled as he floated over.
But of course, Caine was a programmed showman--he wouldn't simply show her the drawing and call it a day. He floated in front of her, snapping his fingers to create digital drums. "Are you on the edge of your seat, my dear? Can you feel the anticipation eating away at your brain cells?"
"Um, no, I don't--"
"INCREDIBLE! It's a countdown, Pomni!"
"Jesus [%$?#]ing Christ, Caine, can we just get this over with?"
"Oh, all right, all right! If you're so impatient to see, I suppose it would be cruel for me to gatekeep my talents," decided Caine. In an instant, the drums dissipated, and he flew to her side--very, very close. His teeth brushing against her cheeks, a hand on her shoulder as he proudly displayed his drawing.
Pomni tensed from his close proximity. Normally, she would have been bothered by it--nauseated, even, but these days she found herself riddled with anxiety instead. She was flustered, but after a moment she focused on the drawing he was shoving in her face.
It admittedly made her heart melt--he had drawn both of their "bee-sonas" together. His, of course, with a top-hat, bow tie, and a loyal speck of pollen following him. As for her's, she could see each stroke of the pencil and each eraser mark. He had clearly been trying to perfect it, to impress her. She was drawn in a similar manner--a striped honeybee with fluttering wings and a happy grin. But there was an impeccable amount of effort put into her distinguishing features--her eyes, shining with a joy that he saw when she'd laugh at his jokes. Her hair came in wisps from beneath her hat. It was simple, but...oddly endearing.
"Do you like it, dear? Does it capture your likeness?" he asked, so soft against her that it nearly made her shiver.
She bit her lip, then let go in favor of a gentle smile. She willed herself to turn her head, meeting his eyes. "It's...perect, Caine. I love it."
Caine swooned. "Oh, dear. You really think so?"
"I mean it," she confirmed. She hesitated, then gathered enough courage to place her gloved hand atop his. "I think it's really, um, sweet," she said, blushing the moment the words came out. It sounded so clichéd on her tongue.
"Nothing's sweeter than you, my honeybee.”
Oh. [%$?#].
There was something so syrupy about the way that he flirted—if he even intended to—and it made her feel so stupidly fuzzy inside. He loved bees, and he was referring to her as something he adored. Not just anything he adored, but his.
Dear God, she hated having these feelings. He was unintentionally charming, even through his layers of silliness. It almost irritated her--how naturally romantic he was when he shouldn't be. When they had first began to collaborate, she found herself trying to hate him for his insensitivity, for being her oblivious captor. In part, she did hate him; but her feelings, much to her horror, had shifted drastically.
Before she could fall deep down the rabbit hole of existential dread and self-hatred, she suddenly became aware of a faint buzzing sound. Pomni turned her head in each direction. "Is there another bee?" she asked, looking around but spotting nothing--only a butterfly fluttering past them both.
"A BEE? Where??" Caine exclaimed, startling Pomni in the process. He leapt up, scanning the area eagerly.
When he jumped away from her, Pomni realized that the peculiar buzzing had gone away. She frowned. "Wait a second," she put together, "Caine, could I see the drawing again?"
"Ah, eager to see my artistic skills again!" Caine boasted, instantly giving up on his bee search to return to her side. He pushed the drawing in her face again, clearly proud. "I can't say I blame you. My art style is both refined and charming! See--"
But Pomni cut him off. The close proximity brought back that strange buzzing sound, only this time, she felt actual vibrations stemming from his hand on her shoulder. "What's that?" Pomni she interjected, pointing at his gloved hand.
Caine seemed puzzled by her question, and for a moment Pomni was worried she had asked a stupid question. "Ah, Pomni! Such wise questions. That is my hand," Caine beamed.
Pomni's patience wore a bit thin at his obvious answer. "Wha--I know that. I mean, why are you buzzing?"
"O-oh," Caine removed his hand from her shoulder, instead scratching the top of his head sheepishly. She swore that his gums turned a slightly lighter pink hue. "N-nothing to worry your little head over! It's just my silly zeroes and ones doing their own Viennese waltz. S-speaking of! I’ve been preparing an adventure that’ll get all you busy bees up and dancing! Isn’t that great?” he said with a swing of his arm, clearly overselling it.
"Oh," Pomni replied. His attempt to cover up his own fluster was admittedly endearing. Slightly human, in his own odd way. She liked it. She offered a shy smile--mostly to cover up her own social anxiety. "Could I...feel it?" she asked, her heart rate immediately rising at her bold question.
“Feel it? You mean the thrill of adventure? The music running through your arteries? The—”
“That’s not what I meant,” Pomni interjected. “I mean…this?” She said, her hand sliding to cup over his, the buzzing growing more persistent.
Caine seemed to do a double-take--from his own fluster or from the surprise at Pomni's newfound flirtation, she couldn't tell. "Ahaha," he chuckled in rare display of shyness, tugging at his bow tie, “well, s-someone's uncharacteristically affectionate today! Not that i'm complaining, of course, but...oh dear! All right, I'll do it!" He clamped his teeth shut, too flustered to watch her reaction.
He gently guided her hand to his chest, sparks of warmth spreading through her body at the contact. Her fingers brushed beneath his bowtie, thumb brushing against the fabric of his white undershirt. It made her want to touch him more and retract all at once, the butterflies intensifying as she tried to focus on his words. She added more pressure to her palm. He didn't have any skin underneath, she was sure, but her hand still met a solid barrier of what would be a body.
For a moment, her mind was spinning with so many socially anxious thoughts that she couldn't focus. She was self-conscious, thrilled and terrified all at once from a touch that seemed so intimate. She pushed those thoughts aside the best she could, focusing in on the feeling of her ringmaster.
He was warm, like a person would be. Perhaps a little too warm, she thought as she added more pressure to her palm. Beyond the heat coming from his digital form was a gentle buzzing. She could feel the vibrations—a sort of gentle hum, much like a microwave—coursing through her arm.
"Did that... satisfy your curiosity, dear?" Caine asked, though he seemed adament on avoiding eye contact. That's a first, Pomni thought.
There were many things Pomni was good at.
Flirting was not one of them.
But she was going to try anyways. Why? She didn't know. Maybe this place was making her deranged. She shook her head. "W-well, I think I'm more of a hands-on learner," she attempted.
Of course, Caine took this literally. His eyes focused on her hand, fingeres curled up against his chest. "Ah, I see! So that's why your hand's on me!"
Pomni blinked. "Uh...yeah."
[%$?#]. She had hoped to moe a little closer, but then again, she set herself up with her poor phrasing.
While flirting or smoothness weren't quite her strong suits, emotional intelligence and analytical thought were.
She had pieced together, for instance, that Caine had been left entirely alone to run the Circus. His creators were absent, he was socially disconnected from all the humans, and he quite literally created his own friends. To have someone want him would probably make him more flustered than a dozen cheesy pick-up lines.
Maybe she began to feel a bit too emboldened by this thought. Because within a few moments, her cheek was pressed against his chest—the empty place where her ear might normally be listening to the whirring hum of Caine’s code. It was a fuzziness that seemed to spread from his chest to the tips of her toes; nothing like the terrifying glitching of her hand on her first day, or the faltering form of an abstraction. This was different—soothing, almost.
She hummed against him. 'Y'know," she mumbled, comfort taking over as the fuzzy static vibrated through her brain, "you kinda sound like those bees. That... sweet symphony, or whatever you said..." she rushed through her words, cringing at the cheesy sound of it.
In fact, she was blushing—or, no. That wasn’t her, it was Caine. His body temperature was rising, like a warm compress to her face.
It was soothing, and she found it in her to wrap her gloved hands around his slim waist, pressing closer into his warmth. He tensed, hands dramatically stiffening against the ground. "O-oh, Pomni. You're just saying that."
"Mm-mm. It's nice," she hummed. Her face warmed up at his growing heat.
Caine’s hands went to her waist, fingertips brushing against the small of her back. Even beneath his gloves, he was scalding. Pomni didn’t dare move. "W-well, what sort of ringmaster would I be if I didn't give my favorite star what she asked?" he said. His voice sounded smooth, but the small tremor at the start--not to mention the way the buzzing was growing louder--gave his fluster away.
"Mmm, Caine," Pomni sighed against him. It was unlike her to get so affectionate, but this felt safe. He felt safe--the same man who madee adventures that had nearly killed her.
Caine heated up even more at the sound of his name on her lips. "Oh, dear," he said to himself. "You really must love your bee-sona."
She was engulfed in his warmth. He was uncharacteristically silent; focused on the foreign feeling of someone against him; someone who wanted him to be around. She thought about their picnic date; about the way he looked when he saw bees.
It occurred to her at this moment that no one ever asked him about his interests. And she genuinely found his interest in bees endearing. So, fighting that extra bit of anxiety the question brought her, she spoke up. “Speaking of...why do you like bees so much?”
His eyes lit up. “Oh, dear, really? You want to know?”
Pomni thought about it briefly. It was getting a bit stuffy, being so pressed against him, so she tilted her face slightly to get some fresh air. "Yeah, actually," she said, "I think I do."
"Where do I even start? Oh! Did you know that bees communicate by dancing?" Caine immediately piped up.
Pomni smiled, amused by his instant enthusiasm. It was different from when he announced his adventures; less...scripted, almost. "No, I didn't," she replied, keepiing her responses to a minimum to let him chatter.
"Oh, they do! It's adorable. Oh! And they're so intelligent, and hard-working, and loyal. And they shouldn't be able to fly, but they do. They're self-aware, they dream..." Caine counted on his fingers.
"Like you," Pomni mumbled without thinking. When she was aware that he noticed, she frantically added, "I-I mean, you know...self-aware, intelligent..." she said, blushing with each compliment.
Caine watched her for a moment, seeming to think on that. "You know," he continued, tugging at the red fabric of his suit, "unlike me, bees don't like the color red. Of course, I made sure that my bees could. But anyways, they can see blue. Maybe that's why my bees like you so much!"
Pomni hummed at the thought. She had never been one for bees; not really. But she liked listening to him talk when he wasn't blasting her eardrums. "I've always liked the color red better," she said absent-mindedly.
Caine's body hummed with the gentle sound of static again.
It was oddly...natural. Resting with him like this. He was surprisingly gentle with her. His occasional buzzing and overheating systems felt like a safe cocoon from the confusing, terrifying digital world. Occasionally his fingers would gently stroke the small of her back, and she would have shivered if it weren't for his heat.
Caine continued to ramble on passionately about bees, clearly thrilled that someone was finally listening to him. “And—oh, Pomni! I never realized until you said it! When I see a bee, I buzz just like a bumblebee! I just love bees! Oh my—I’m more like my bee-sona than I’d ever imagined!”
“Caine?”
“Yes, honeybee?”
The nickname gave her butterflies. “You’re buzzing right now," she observed.
Caine paused. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.”
“But there aren’t any bees around,” Pomni observed, heart racing at the implications.
He glanced down at her. His thumb stroked against her back subconsciously. “No, there aren’t,” he agreed.
His words were making her heart pound rapidly and her stomach flutter with an absurd amount of butterflies. Holy…was she not actually going crazy? Did he actually feel something real? Not just towards bees, but…maybe even her?
“My, my… your heart rate is skyrocketing,” Caine interrupted her thoughts. “Are you feeling excited?”
Pomni squeaked, hiding her blushing face in his chest. His heat did little to help her flustered state—if anything, making it worse. “Hah…w-well, I wouldn’t say…excited? Who said anything about being excited?”
“Me, Pomni! Your ringmaster, Caine!”
Leave it to Caine to take Pomni’s awkwardness on surface-level. Oddly enough, it melted her embarrassment away, seeing him respond in such a genuine way.
"W-well," Pomni managed, fidgeting with the top button of her costume, “you know how when you see bees, you feel that fuzzy static?”
“As well as I know that bees make honey!”
“Well, it’s sort of like that.”
“Don’t be silly, Pomni! There aren’t any bees around.”
“No…but there’s you.”
Caine was stunned. Practically boiling hot now. He took the next step, moving a hand to cup her cheek, the buzzing in his chest growing more intense than ever. "W-why Pomni, you--"
"Hey, boss!"
"AGH--!"
The two broke apart, startled by the bubble's sudden appearenece. Caine nearly popped him, his index finger instinctually pointed towards Bubble in preparation.
“BUBBLE! Ahaha, my...spherical little friend," Caine chuckled anxiously, covering up his attempt at popping him by instead brushing off his suit.
“Jax set the adventure on fire and they're alllll coming home," Bubble reported with his usual smile.
“Ah! O-of course!” Caine declared a little too loudly, drawing pad poofing out of existence. “Are you assuming I would get too enticed in one of my superstars’ eyes and forget about all about the amazing adventure I created? HA! Never! Not in a million gazillion years! Not--!”
“Uh, I should probably get going,” Pomni said with a nervous smile, pointing her thumb weakly at the tent. She turned to move, desperate to get out of this incredibly nerve-wracking, butterfly-inducing situation, but Caine quickly stopped her.
“Pomni, wait!” he said, perhaps a bit too loudly. He collected himself, pointing his index finger up. “There’s no rush, my little superstar! Y-you know, Bubble gets really lonely sometimes!" With that, he stretched out his arms to grab Bubble, patting his head as though she'd be convinced to stay.
Pomni was blushing too much, not wanting to meet his eyes. "Bubble?" Her eyes instead went to his companion, who was staring off with a blank grin as usual. "Uh..." she paused, forcing a smile, voice strained as she made an excuse, "Uh, I-I'd love to! But, you know, can't make the others think that you play favorites!"
"O-of course not! As your ringmaster, I'd never favor any one of you catawampus coconuts! That would be catankerous! Calamitous!"
"Uh-huh," Pomni managed through gritted teeth. She still felt his warmth and gentle buzzing against her skin.
"Oh, very well, my dear," Caine said, though he was evidently disappointed, "it seems our adventure has come to an end."
"Y-yeah, okay. I'll see you later," Pomni rushed her words. Then, face flushed crimson, she darted down the hill they had been resting upon, returning to the Main Tent. (She'd rather not be teleported there, because her stomach was uneasy as it was. Not to mention, Caine was too flustered to think straight.)
Caine watched her scurry off. Oh, how he adored her. He loved all of his superstars, of course, but he felt a particular tie to Pomni. Well, why shouldn’t he? Isn’t that just the feeling of best friendship?
He didn’t quite understand it, but he was certain that he loved her as much as he loved bees. He wasn't quite sure what kind of love that entailed--they all blended together to him--but he knew that he loved her the way the he loved bees.
He felt it again--his chest feeling fuzzy. He brought his hands to feel it, remembering how her head had been resting in that exact place just moments ago. He floated in the air with a sigh. "Oh, Bubble, I'm buzzing like a beehive!" Caine said dreamily, gloved hands clasped over his chest.
“I hit someone with my car,” Bubble replied.
Caine practially swam through the air, the intense buzzing in his chest vibrating through his gloved hands. It was a funny, fuzzy sensation. Stronger than anything he had ever felt before. He kept replaying the memory of Pomni against him, complimenting him, listening to him.
Cartoonish hearts bubbled from his chest, popping out of existence before he could notice. Caine was abruptly snapped out of his daydreaming by an alert on his Wacky Watch, showing that the rest of the cast had entered the Main Tent through the fractal noise.
"Gadzooks!" he exclaimed. He took off his top hat, his cane dropping into his gloved hand. "Too much swooning, I can't leave my audience waiting!'
He quickly teleported away to greet the others, Bubble left alone to wonder if his digital insurance would cover his victim's medical bills.
---
Immediately after Bubble's interruption, Pomni had sprinted back to the Main Tent. She had barely made it in time before the others returned. Gangle, quiet and observant as she was, noticed Pomni hurrying up to the balcony.
The two had made eye contact. Gangle was curious, but she had a sneaking suspicion. She gestured zipping her mouth shut--well, the best she could with her ribbons--much to the relief of Pomni.
And she did keep quiet--she just wrote fanfiction about it later.
When Pomni returned to her room, she crashed on her bed, staring up at the ceiling in existential thought. Her heart raced and she tried to make sense of her nonsensical feelings for the AI.
It seemed that these days, she found herself in this position more than ever.
She thought about the way he had held her. How unexpectedly tender he could be. How he looked at bees. How he looked at her....
Pomni sat up, tugging at her hat in frustration. This wasn't supposed to happen. This made no damn sense! Her liking Caine?
She swore, saying every offensive word she could think of to vocalize her frustration. But all that came out were cartoonish booms and splats. And worse—Caine himself, looking so damn foolish on the censor that covered her mouth.
God, he was infuriating. Clueless. Oblivious. Insensitive. Cute. Charming. Passionate.
Pomni face-planted into the pillow, groaning. "[%$?#] my life," her voice was muffled into the pillow.
---
It was rare for the ringmaster to feel so jittery. But his code seemed to be dancing again, and not in the pleasant way that it was earlier. He was always anxious to know what Pomni thought of his adventures, but this felt different. More personal.
It had been about a half-an-hour now; not that time really existed in the Circus, but it was an estimated guess. The fuzziness in Caine's chest hadn't gone away, and he couldn't quite figure out why. He assumed that perhaps their picnic had been interrupted too soon, so he wanted closure--in the form of gifting Pomni his drawing.
"This is absurd," Caine huffed to himself--which he frequently did, even when others were present--while tapping his foot in the air. "I'm the ringmaster! A creative AI! A world-class talent! I could open a digital art gallery with all of my bee art and all of Gangle's OCs."
He flew through the living quarters, past the doors of the other circus members and towards the jester that made him feel like he had a human heart. He paused midway. "Maybe it doesn't have enough detail--doesn't capture how entrancing her eyes are! Hm..." he drummed his fingers anxiously.
He looked over the drawing one more time. He deliberately didn't show Bubble, knowing that by now the parasite would have ingested it.
"Okay, you've convinced me! I'll do it!" Caine cried out under zero pressure. He slid the drawing under the door, glitching in another burst of nerves before dramatically teleporting away.
Zooble, hearing the ringmaster's conversation with himself, opened their door and looked for the source of the conversation. "Who the hell was he talking to?" they mumbled in annoyance before shutting the door, returning to learning to draw with Gangle.
---
Pomni was busy trying to distract herself from her racing thoughts when she noticed the paper slide under her door.
She was wary at first, suspecting it was some sort of prank from Jax. But as she stepped closer, she could clearly make out what it was.
It was the drawing—her bee-sona. Really, it was just a cartoon bee with her hair and hat, and big pinwheel eyes. She had seen it earlier, of course, but had been a little too preoccupied by her ringmaster's close proximity to really pay attention to it. She could see, very faintly, outlines through the paper, clearly indicating something on the other side. Pomni flipped it over and, to her surprise, there were also multiple sketches of her--not as a bee, but in the romanticized way Caine saw her.
It dawned on her--no wonder he was taking so long. The AI was drawing lovesick doodles of her the whole time. And, [%$?#], he probably wasn't even aware of it.
The butterflies she felt now were practically unbearable. She liked him far too much now, she was sure of it. Heat rose to her cheeks again, and she groaned into her hands in frustration.
She laid back against the pillow, looking over his drawings, all teh details. When she finally drifted off to sleep, she held her pillow against her, shamefully imagining it was the ringmaster's absurd warmth again.
---
Caine, the moment he had slid that drawing under her door, teleported away in a nervous frenzy, where he continued to glitch out in his anxiety.
Shortly after, he used his all-seeing eyes and briefly checked on her with the same dreamy expression he had earlier while watching bees.
Because despite his vague knowledge of the human spectrum of emotions, he was well-aware that bees were his passion. And he seemed to feel similarly about Pomni these days. So did that make the jester his passion?
He couldn't quite understand it. Maybe it was the fact that someone took the time to listen to him. Or maybe it was her voice, or her perfect character model. Maybe it was the fact that he could have easily pulled up her model as a reference himself, but he selfishly wanted to stare at her.
He set his pencil down, setting his doodles of the jester (along with himself) aside.
Yes, perhaps Pomni really was his passion. That had to be what it meant.
His chest buzzed in response when he remembered their picnic.
She was his honeybee.