The Pawn's Gambit (Part 2)
“Following the revival of Caine and the circus learning that there really is no way out, they do their best to cope with it all. Pomni has taken it upon herself to keep an eye on everyone, so when Kinger is suspiciously absent from breakfast, she goes to his fort to investigate.
Kinger has kept a fairly tight lid on his regressive tendencies for a long time now, but the stress of killing Caine, keeping the circus from falling apart, and bringing Caine back has taken its toll on him, resulting in… this.
They’re all in this together now, through highs and lows, for better or for worse, they’re a family… that’s just now discovered that sometimes their dad is a baby, but that’s pretty par for the course by now.”
[I know that in the event of regressed Kinger that a lot of people like having Queenie as his previous caregiver, but I dunno, I'm kinda on the fence about it. I worry it feeds too much into the "wife has to take care of her man-child husband" trope, but also that level of pre-existing closeness is really fun to work with in a regression setting/scenario. So in this their relationship while he's little is a mix of "babysitter-bordering-on-parent" and "childhood best friend"!]
Kinger doesn’t know how, why, or when, but he’s pretty sure he’s been abducted by aliens. They’re familiar looking aliens, even if he isn’t sure why they look familiar to him, but either way, they can’t possibly be of this world. None of them even look like animated stuff like him and Daddy! Kinger watches them all from the terrible evil no-good playpen his daddy conjured up, that has since been moved into a kitchen of some kind, where he studies them for any signs of weakness or ill intent.
So far his favorite is the doll lady. She always seems to be smiling, especially when she’s looking at him, and she’s so soft, too! Right now he’s pretty sure she’s cooking something on a stove; whatever it is, it smells… unwanted. He really hopes she’s just brewing a potion or something. Hopefully something that can give him superpowers… other than his conjuring, of course!
Kinger glances at the table next, observing the two strangers sitting next to each other. One of them has a weird, fragile looking face and red noodles making up the rest of her body, but despite having such wily, thin limbs, she appears adept at using them, her coloring seemingly unaffected. The other one looks like one of his art projects or a wonky toy made up of all kinds of silly, colorful parts, and even though they don’t have a mouth, he can sort of tell what they’re expressing through their eyes and body language, but it’s still really hard for him to do. They keep their eyes mostly on the noodle girl, but they glance at him every so often to check on him. For what purpose, he’s still trying to figure out.
The door to the kitchen swings open, prompting Kinger to look that way. He watches as the other two strangers step inside. One is a crazy tall purple bunny-rabbit with overalls; Kinger thought he might be a kid too at first, but he seems a little too tall… he sure acts like one, though! The other is a very short clown of some sort, her mannerisms surprisingly mellow and reserved; Kinger isn’t about to tell her for fear of how she’d react, but so far he doesn’t think she’s very good at being a clown. She doesn’t even tell any jokes!
The clown leaves the bunny’s side to visit with Kinger, the pawn instinctively backing away to the other side of the playpen. No one here has hurt him yet, but he’s not about to take any chances.
“Hey there, buddy,” The clown is friendly when greeting him. “How ya doing in there?”
Kinger glares at her, if only because he’s pretty sure he knows what she’s going to try and do again; he doesn’t care how tiny he is, he is not gonna wear a weird, crinkly diaper thing! The clown and toy have tried twice now to wrap him in one, and each time he’s managed to wiggle free and run away for long enough that they’ve given up, but he’s worried that they’ll take another crack at it sooner rather than later. He hopes it’ll be later, his grumbling stomach and fatigue making him worry he won’t be able to outmaneuver them a third time.
“Yeah, I figured you were still mad at me,” The clown keeps talking despite his refusal to. “But that’s alright. I’ve actually got a surprise for you!” She pulls a bag off of her shoulder, Kinger having not noticed it until she’s moving it; it immediately has his full, undivided attention.
Kinger scuttles as close to the clown as he can get, only the wall of the inescapable playpen keeping them separated. “‘Ag?” He asks, pointing at it.
He catches the bunny wincing out of the corner of his eye. “You might wanna work on your pronunciation with that one, big guy. Thought you said something way different for a second there!”
The toy rolls their eyes and scoffs. “Oh, grow up, Jax.”
The bunny turns to them and shrugs, his smile never waning. It looks kind of weird on him. “I think if anyone needs to do that, it’s prince pull-up over here.”
“Stop giving Kinger such awful nicknames!” The doll scolds the bunny from across the room, refusing to actually walk over and leave the stove alone. Kinger hopes she does so whatever icky thing she’s cooking explodes and can’t be fed to him.
“They’re terms of endearment!” The bunny insists, his gaze shifting back over to the clown. “Hey Pomni, weren’t you gonna distra-show the little woodchip something really cool?”
Kinger’s eyes widen. Something cool? For him? …Wait, what was that about distracting? That’s the word for running away from stuff, isn’t it, or was that something else? Why’s the bunny trying to hide that he said it?
The pawn loses track of that thought when the clown nods and opens her bag. “Uh, yeah, I do! Come ‘ere, Kinger, I think you’ll really like this!”
Kinger tilts his head, something about this feeling… off. In his defense, everything has felt off since he woke up in that pillow fort, but this feels especially off-putting to him for a reason he hasn’t determined yet. Choosing to dismiss his fears for the time being, he tries to stretch himself taller to take a peek into the bag, but the clown shifts it to hide its contents from him.
Off to the side, Kinger spots the bunny pacing around the playpen. He turns his head to watch him, only to hear a loud, sudden squeak directly in his unseeable ear. He yelps and jumps away from the sound, opening his eyes to discover the source of the noise is a rubber ducky being held by the clown. His eyes widen at the sight of it, the pawn all too eager to get his hands on a proper toy.
“Pretty awesome, right?” The clown asks, the question throwing Kinger off. What’s wrong with her? Why wouldn’t she already know a toy like this is outstanding? She squeaks it again, throwing him off his train of thought. “You wanna hold it?”
Kinger nods in earnest. “Auh,” He says, but to his frustration it’s not immediately given to him. What the heck? She just offered it to him, so why won’t she hand it over!? “Auh.” He repeats it more insistently this time, giving her the benefit of the doubt by believing she just didn’t hear him.
“Alright, alright. Here ya go, buddy,” The clown promises to hand the toy over, but still has the audacity to keep stringing him along, holding it over his head and just out of his grasp. “That’s right, just keep looking at the duckie.” He catches her whispering to herself, her pupils constantly flickering to something behind him.
Okay, what the heck is going on here!? Kinger turns around to follow her gaze, discovering that not only is the bunny in the playpen with him, but he’s literally centimeters away from grabbing him. “Um,” The bunny freezes when he’s spotted, his pupils shrinking for a moment, but then they get big again and a silly looking smile spreads across his face. “Hey there, termite magnet. How ya doin’?”
What kind of question is that? It takes a second for it to click, but then Kinger glances just a little lower, and finally spots it sticking out of the pocket on the bunny’s overalls.
Oh. Another diaper wrap… wait a minute!
Before Kinger can make a break for it, the clown picks him up from behind, lifting him out of the playpen with ease. “Got ‘im!” She shouts, turning with him in tow toward the table. “Zooble, did you-?”
“-Yeah, all ready,” The toy confirms, gesturing to a plain purple towel that’s been laid on the tabletop. “It’s not much, but weirdly enough Caine didn’t include a changing mat in that bag he gave us.”
Oh, he knows what those words are referring to! As if being picked up with a diaper wrap in his general vicinity wasn’t enough of a hint, but in Kinger’s defense, that rubber duck was very enticing! “Nuh uh!” Kinger makes his opinion on the matter very clear for what must be the millionth time, beginning to flail around like a madman.
“Da**it,” He catches the bunny muttering under his breath, his pupils small again with a far more natural looking grimace to accompany it. “Told ya he’d catch on quick.”
“Hey, I’m not the one who went too slow! That’s on you,” The clown argues, struggling to keep her hold on Kinger. “You gotta calm down, kiddo! I promise it’ll be okay. It won’t even hurt!”
“No no no!” Kinger screams and wails at the top of his lungs, wishing now more than ever that he had proper legs to kick these awful strangers with.
“Stop trying to reason with him, it’s not gonna get you anywhere,” The toy says, taking Kinger from the clown and laying him on the table, but they have to use both hands to hold him down, much to their apparent frustration. “D**n, not even my baby brother was this fussy about being changed!”
The bunny laughs at them, earning him glares from both the toy and clown. “What? It’s not my fault that the kid’s entertaining! I’m betting right now that he’s gonna get away again.”
The toy’s glare intensifies. “Don’t you dare jinx it! Just hand me the freaking diaper and I’ll-”
Kinger catches them off guard with a gator roll, managing to rip himself from their grasp and roll right off the table. He hits the ground pretty hard, but he doesn’t care, he needs to get out of here! Now!
“F*ck!” The clown shouts. She lunges at him, but Kinger hops out of the way just in time, leaving her to hit the floor face first.
Kinger hears a growl from nearby, the bunny clenching his fists out of the corner of his eye. “Alright, that’s enough horsing around, half pint! Come ‘ere!” Strangely enough the bunny goes from giggly to angry at the drop of a hat and takes off after him, the sudden shift frightening the little pawn like nothing else.
He yelps and runs between the bunny’s legs to outmaneuver him- if it worked once, surely it’ll work a second time!- only to run right into the clown again, but in another replay of past events, he tries to bite her, except… wait, what?
Kinger blinks a few times, confused. One minute he was wrestling with the clown and bunny, the next he’s… wrapped up? Not in a diaper, thank god, but in what feel like thin, glossy ropes. He looks up, coming face to face with the masked noodly girl. She’s thus far mostly looked really sad, but now she’s smiling at him, that matched with her sorrowful eyes making her look rather gentle and… safe.
“Salut, Kingy,” The mask girl whispers, her voice just as soft as her ribbons. “Everyone’s been really mean to you today, haven’t they?”
Finally, someone who understands! Kinger nods in earnest, relieved to finally find an empathetic soul in this den of snakes and liars.
“That must have been so scary! Poor little baby,” She continues to talk gently to him, at some point returning to the table and laying him down on it. When he starts to sit up she gently pushes him back down, one of her hands reappearing to offer him something. “Aw, are you bored? Do you wanna play with this for awhile? I won’t let anyone take it away from you, I promise.”
The mask girl holds up the rubber ducky, only she actually keeps it within his reach, unlike that lying clown! After Kinger nods, she hands it to him, allowing him to fiddle with and squeak it to his heart’s content. Okay, the squeaking is actually way too loud for him, so he settles for just pretending it’s flying, even if its wings are stuck to its sides. Maybe it’s a magical or psychic duck? That would certainly make for a fun story!
Kinger begins babbling at some point, narrating the adventures of this psychic duck that’s learning how to use magic, and all the while, he feels the mask girl doing something to him, he isn’t sure what, only that it doesn’t hurt or- whoa! He jumps at the sudden cold sensation on his lower half, but then the mask girl tickles him with one of her ribbons and sends him into a giggle fit, making him forget all about whatever startled him.
It’s only a minute or two more before Kinger’s picked back up and placed on the floor between everyone but the doll, his gaze never straying from his rubber duck. It’s only when he sits down and hears a loud crinkling sound and feels something weird on him that he looks down, just to discover that he’s wearing a diaper. Wait, when did that get there!?
“Holy sh*t,” The toy mutters just loud enough that Kinger can hear them. They turn to the mask girl, their eyes staying wide. “I thought you said you were an only child; how’d you know how to do that?”
The mask girl giggles and shrugs. “I dunno. Nothing you guys were doing was working, so… I just kinda winged it,” She smiles fondly at Kinger, even patting him on the head. He leans into her touch, not at all registering that she’s responsible for the diaper now tied around his lower half. “It seems like you do really well with distractions, Kingy!”
“Lunch is ready!” From across the kitchen, the doll raises her voice to be heard.
“Thank f**king god,” The bunny mutters, supposedly famished. Kinger isn’t sure why he would be, considering the smell. “Whatcha make this time, Rags?”
“I was already planning on making it, and I know he likes it when he’s big, so I made Philly cheese-steak pasta!” The doll explains. She brings over the pot and sets it in the middle of the table, before quickly crouching down to grab Kinger. “Alrighty buddy, let’s get you fed!”
He tries to back up a step, but all this leads to is him bumping into the bunny again. The bunny looks down to meet his gaze, his smile anything but innocent. “Sorry tyke, but you’re not going anywhere.” He tells him, not a hint of mercy in his tone when scooping him up.
Kinger glares at the bunny, tempted to punch him for being so mean, but he restrains himself, a voice in the back of his head that doesn’t sound like his warning him that hitting others isn’t okay… outside of unwanted changes, of course. At that point it’s just self-defense!
Before Kinger can come up with a proper response to being so impolitely picked up- again- the bunny hands him over to the doll. She starts to carry him back toward the table, but then she hesitates for a moment, her only real eye searching the room for something. “Oh, um,” She struggles to find the words; Kinger can relate. “I guess we don’t have a highchair, do we?”
“Aw sh*t. No, we don’t, and I don’t think any of us are able to conjure one just yet,” The toy says, sounding just as concerned as the doll. “I guess we’ll just have to have someone hold him on their lap.”
“Not it.” The bunny and clown say in sync, sharing an amused smirk after.
“It’s alright, guys, I’m happy to do it,” The doll assures, taking a seat at the table and doing as she promised by sitting Kinger on her lap. “How’s this, little buddy? Are you comfortable?”
Kinger thinks it over, glancing at all the different strangers to assess who would be the best to sit on. He’d prefer being with the mask girl since she’s proven herself to be quite nice, but she doesn’t really have much of a lap, so he resigns himself to staying with the doll. He simply nods at her, unconsciously leaning against her chest; wait a minute, he forgot how soft she is! Nevermind, this is actually the best option ever. She smiles and says something to the clown, but Kinger doesn’t actually catch it, too busy grabbing handfuls of the doll’s dress and fiddling with it, shocked by just how nice the fabric feels.
His fun is interrupted, however, when he’s turned to face the table and, much to his disgust, a forkful of whatever the cursed thing the doll cooked is held up to his face. Kinger just stares at it at first, then glances back up at the doll, confused as to how she expects him to eat this.
“Aren’t you hungry?” The doll asks, looking rather concerned now.
Kinger doesn’t think to lie, simply nodding because yes, he is quite famished, but he’s not starving, which is what it would take to make him even consider eating this yucky slop! Well, he doesn’t actually know if it’s yucky, but it smells like it is, so it has to be!
“It tastes good, you know,” The toy says from across the table and between bites of their own serving of slop. “You’ll like it when you’re older, so why not at least try it?”
Kinger huffs and shakes his head, keeping it turned away from the offending fork.
“Oh, Kinger,” He hears the doll mutter, something about her disappointed tone actually making him feel a bit guilty. “Please at least have a few bites! I promise it’s better than you think.”
Kinger shakes his head more intensely. “No!” He snaps, making his stance crystal clear to the strangers holding him hostage. “No no no!”
“F**k, he’s nearing a meltdown.” The toy mutters, failing to hide the observation from Kinger, not that it’ll make a difference to him.
“Geez, it’s just freaking pasta. You don’t gotta cry about it, half-pint,” The bunny insists, unimpressed by the pawn’s fit enough to roll his eyes at him. He takes a big bite and makes a few exaggerated noises of disgust. “Wait, ah, it’s… it’s poisoned! Oh, the agony!” He flops onto the ground and clutches his stomach, letting out a few pained groans for good measure. “I don’t… think I’m… gonna make it!”
Kinger stares down at the bunny in complete horror, so shocked that he can’t even move.
“Jax!” The doll snaps at her dying companion. “I can’t believe you! Don’t scare him like that!”
The bunny bursts into uproarious laughter, clutching his stomach even tighter. Oh God, is he becoming delirious from the pain!? “You should see the look on his face!” The bunny shouts between gasps for air. “Li-Little guy looks like he’s gonna faint!”
“That’s not a good thing, Jax.” The clown says, but she’s struggling to hide her own smile. What is she, a sad… sad… that kinda person who likes to see other people get hurt!?
The toy outright rolls their eyes, thoroughly unimpressed. “You’re so f**king annoying.”
“Oh dear…” The mask girl grimaces and glances from Kinger to the doll over and over, seemingly studying them.
“Kinger, don’t listen to Jax; he’s making it up to scare you!” The doll insists, bringing the fork close to Kinger’s face again. “Please try at least one-”
Yeah, screw this, Kinger’s heard enough. These people are insane if they expect him to eat poison when it’s literally killing one of their own! With a shout of indignation, he curls in on himself and squeezes his eyes shut, the world around him changing in an instant. He opens his eyes to find himself… oh, this isn’t his bedroom; he’s only just outside the dining room! Kinger figures out the reason why as soon as tries to stand up; his vision becomes blurry for a few seconds, but a shake of his head dismisses the feeling quickly enough. He whimpers, one hand holding his head while the other holds his stomach; he really needs to eat something!
“Kinger!?” That’s definitely the doll shouting. “Oh no, not again!”
“We have gotta get a baby-leash on that kid or something.” The bunny mutters, still audible through the closed door. He sounds really good for a guy that’s dying a slow and painful death!
“It’s your fault he took off again, a**hole!” The toy snaps, much more openly angry now that they don’t think Kinger is in hearing range. That, or they’re genuinely just fed up with the bunny’s antics.
The bunny laughs again, unbothered by the scolding. “Aw come on, I was just-”
“-Shut up, Jax!” The doll is truly furious now, sounding just on the cusp of tears. “You always have to ruin everything and scare everyone! You can’t even control yourself for a f**king toddler!”
“Ragatha, take it easy. I’m sure Kinger didn’t go far!” The clown assures, stepping in on the bunny’s behalf.
“That’s not the point!” The doll’s not having it, only growing angrier by the second. “Kinger’s a little kid that doesn’t even remember us or what this place is, and you guys aren’t… you can’t imagine how scared he must be!” She pauses to take a few breaths, her voice wet and quiet when she speaks again. “You don’t understand… Caine said Kinger stopped regressing after I showed up. He’s been… all this time he’s…”
“Been masking?” The mask girl finishes.
“…Yeah, I think so,” The doll agrees with her input, but she sure doesn’t sound happy about it. “That’s eight years of repressing this, other than him apparently regressing while we were all at Spudsy’s. It’s not like he hasn’t stayed behind before, so why did he regress then?”
“I think I might know,” The clown says, sounding surprisingly sombre. “The adventure before was… pretty dang traumatizing, and he was lucid for most of it. I wonder if the stress from that pushed him over the edge and made him drop.”
“We’ll have to ask him when he’s big again,” The toy decides, the screech of a chair being pushed against the hardwood making Kinger’s ears ache. “Alright, let’s go find the tyke. He couldn’t have gone far.”
“How would you know? He could be in the fairgrounds by now!” The bunny insists, and Kinger’s pretty sure at this point that he’s either a very chatty ghost or not as poisoned as he implied… what a mean thing to lie about!
The toy chuckles, more amused than expected. “I could hear his stomach growling from across the room; he’s probably trying to wait until we go to come and scrounge something up from the kitchen.”
“Oh…” The doll sighs, seemingly heartbroken. “I… I was really hoping he’d like the pasta. He loves it when he’s older, so I thought it would… make him more comfortable, I dunno.”
“Ragatha, I don’t think Kinger regressing is your fault.” The mask girl assures, quiet but kind.
“Him repressing it might be.” The doll mutters, so quiet that Kinger can barely hear her.
While everything about this whole situation is overwhelming and strange, Kinger at least knows that he should know these people; they obviously know him, but for some reason, he can’t really remember them. The longer he listens to them though, the more he feels… well, he doesn’t remember anything about who they are still, but he feels like he can trust them, or at least most of them. The bunny is a bit too tricky for his liking. While the mask girl has been the most successful at working with him, for some inexplicable reason, Kinger feels himself becoming more and more drawn to the doll. Maybe it’s the guilt from hearing her cry, or maybe it’s a memory he can’t visualize, but he knows he wants to see her happy again.
Rather shyly, on account of how spontaneously he took off on the strangers, Kinger pushes the door open and pokes his head inside the dining room. Everyone immediately has their eyes on him, the toy’s and bunny’s eyes widening in surprise whereas the clown and mask girl look relieved, and the doll… goodness, she really is crying. She stares at him, trying and failing to smile as tears run down her plush face. Kinger freezes at the sight, his gut churning for a reason that isn’t hunger. I did this. I promised I would never make her cry, but I did it anyway. How could I be so awful? No wonder Quee-Quee never came back.
Kinger doesn’t realize he’s crying until his vision is blurred by it, but that doesn’t stop him from running to the doll and hugging her legs, burying his face in her dress as he sobs. The doll goes still for a moment, Kinger unable to actually see her reaction from his current position, but then she kneels down and scoops him up, standing back up with him hugged to her chest. One of his hands clings to her shoulder while the other tightens around a fistful of her dress, his high-pitched sobs eventually petering out into weak little hiccups. She holds him through it all, patting his back and rocking him slightly.
“S-Sowwy,” Kinger tries to tell her, frustrated that he’s struggling so much with saying the words that he needs to tell her. “S-So sowwy… no mean to.”
“Shh, you’re alright, baby boy,” The doll is gentle and patient, proving to be far more merciful to him than most. “I know, I know… it’s all so overwhelming, isn’t it?”
Kinger nods in earnest, never agreeing more with a statement.
“Huh,” The toy hums, at some point having sat back down at the table, apparently trusting their peers to handle this on their own. “I guess that even as a little kid with no memories, he’s still got a soft spot for you, Rags.”
“Maybe…” The doll doesn’t seem sure yet, but she nonetheless sits back down at the table with her charge, and while she hesitates at first, she soon offers him another forkful of pasta. “Do you… want a bite of it, honey? I promise it’s not poisoned.”
He can hear the bunny start to say something, a light chuckle Kinger’s only warning.
The mask girl cuts him off before he can even exhale. “Jax, shut your d**n mouth.”
For whatever reason, that startles the bunny enough to preemptively silence him, keeping the room as a whole quiet for when Kinger turns to face the dreaded meal. He really is hungry, and while it still doesn’t smell great, upon closer inspection it does look somewhat less repulsive than he initially thought. Would it kill him to at least try it? It certainly didn’t kill the bunny, despite the bunny acting like it could. Nervously, the little pawn leans forward and closes his non-existent mouth around it, his eyes widening comically at the taste. It’s… it’s really good! Kinda cold by now, but good!
“Do you like it?” The doll asks, unable to tell from just his widening eyes what he’s thinking.
As if to answer her, Kinger slams his face into the rest of the plate of pasta, so ravenous in his appetite that he doesn’t even consider using silverware.
This earns him a chorus of laughter, especially so from the mask girl. “I think that’s a resounding ‘yes’.”
Kinger tries to nod, but it just makes the mess even worse, not that he cares about that right now, too busy gorging himself.
“Christ, I’m really glad he doesn’t have a mouth and nose right now. This would be way grosser otherwise.” The bunny admits, sounding both relieved and disappointed, which is quite the achievement if Kinger does say so himself.
“No kidding,” The clown agrees, but her smile is nowhere near as uncomfortable as the bunny’s is. “So, uh… I’m guessing it’s bath time after this?”
“Probably, yeah,” The doll giggles, gentle when she pulls Kinger off of the plate and sits him back down on her lap. She cleans his face with a wash cloth, giggling again when he squirms. “I know I know, it’s no fun getting your face washed, but you’re a very messy eater, aren’t you?” She pauses, what she says next little more than a whisper just for him. “Thank you for coming back and trying it, Kinger… I know this is a lot for you- it is for us, too- but we love you and just want you to be alright, especially when you’re struggling to take care of yourself. I know it’s a tall order, but can you be brave for me and let us look after you?”
Despite himself, Kinger feels that last knot of uncertainty and fear untangle itself in his chest, something inside him wanting nothing more than to do anything this doll asks of him, even if it’s scary. It’s almost like… like he has a mom again. Kinger struggles not to grimace with his eyes at that thought. His memories around having a mother are fuzzy at best, but he knows that his first mother wasn’t very nice. His second one was, though; she was even a chess piece like him! Only… she’s gone now, his memories of her while in this state a mix of different types of longing, the most prominent ones being related to maternalism and friendship. Would it hurt to try trusting this doll lady to fill a similar role? The third time’s the charm, right? Kinger blinks a few times, willing himself to get back to the matter at hand. Slowly, deceivingly so, he nods, unconsciously leaning harder against the doll in search of comfort. She grins, a joyful sob slipping out of her throat as she hugs him again, undeterred by how dirty he is. Kinger smiles and reciprocates the best he can with his tiny hands. Gosh, he forgot how nice it felt to have a momma! Is… is that who she’s supposed to be? Momma? Should he call her that? He isn’t sure yet, but no matter who she is or what she’s called, he has a good feeling that he’ll be safe with her.
