[The lights in the circus go out one by one as the gentle trill of piano keys fills the air.]
O̶̰̾́̃͘͝h̴̪̆ ̷̝͇̑n̵̳̼̻͕̽̍͗̚o̸͕̼̟͇̣͐͆̒̒.̴̹͒͋̐
[CURRENT ADMIN: Test_Run]
[ERROR: UNABLE TO SPAWN Test_Run01]
Meet Popup Caine! Also known as Test_Run01
This is a TADC Caine centric blog that takes place after episode 8. You can ask Popup anything! As of right now, he does not have a physical form, and therefore cannot be hugged or seen.
Most asks will appear in the console, and Popup will reply using the console. As for RP asks in which someone is physically there or not using a console, he will communicate via popups. If he reaches out to another blog, it will also be using Popups. Now… onto the blog rules.
Rules:
No godmodding
No discrimination (unless it’s in character, and still ask in advance)
No explicit asks. They can be suggestive, but not outright NSFW
OC’S are allowed.
Magical anons are allowed to a degree, but limited. Some actions may not work.
Interactions from other canon character blogs are allowed and encouraged.
Tags:
#lore post
#popcaine asks
#popcaine answers
#popcaine yaps
#ooc post
Mods blog:
@biblically-accurate-star
Anons and interacting blogs:
- @yourcasualplueyfan
- @fnaf-tribe-trio
- @chaoticandlucky / @somanyreblogs
- 🐭
- @abelthevirus
- @stormyskyesss
- @lizabethcrum
- FALL!Caine
- 🧟♀️
- @thebreadanon
- Bee Anon
- @lunanova-fr
- Buzz Anon (Is this the same person as Bee Anon???)
- @seam-needles-system1998
- @kitty5529
- :o) anon can be found under #:o) anon.
- That one Alien Text anon that keeps flirting with PopCaine
- @arrowstojupiter can be found under #mal
- @whisssilvesterfox
- 🎮
Lore posts:
First attempt to contact the humans
Successful first contact
First contact part 2
Semi successful interrogation
Bee’s big debut
Getting Zooble out of the pit. + Danger!
FAQ:
Why can’t PopCaine appear in the circus?
What inspired the AU?
Can we give Caine headpats?
How do I start an RP with Pop?
Also make sure to check out the #:o) anon asks and the #mal threads, the latter of which being a collaboration with @arrowstojupiter
My fanart of Popcaine! og creator: @biblically-accurate-star their askblog: @popcaine
gave him a tail because:
After seeing this I couldn’t NOT give him a tail
also for the million ppl in @popcaine’s asks giving Pop bee plushies that he can’t touch because he doesn’t have a form, take my practice sketch:
go check out Popcaine if you haven’t already! It’s a really underrated Au that I have been obsessing over the past couple of days
was listening to the I.M.Caine playlist on repeat while drawing this and now I wanna draw Mal as well… might do that after I stop procrastinating the shit I actually have to do today ✨
Guys- I forgot Artfight existed and when I went to check in on it I have four attacks- OH MY GOD!!! THIS HASNT HAPPENED TO ME BEFORE!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH! I’m surprised ya’ll Even found me! I didn’t post about it!
Hey Caine. Me and Hestie finally figured out how to contact you! Basically, we created a bridge between the pc you’re in and the one we found in the closet. Let’s just say it took a LOT of extension cables and the bazaar experience of hearing someone yell “The sound’s coming from the air vents… THEY’RE IN THE WALLS!”
-Pyre
Anyways, are you doing ok? I know this whole thing’s gotta be quite the mental toll. I just hope we can bring you back properly.
-Hestie
Oh huh, that’s weird. I haven’t heard many others report any difficulty in contacting me. I’m sorry for the all the obstacles…
Anyways, I’ve had a LOT of people asking me that! Whether I’m ok, I mean.
[It really depends on how one defines ok. He was ok as long as his systems were in good enough condition to run without any major errors. As things were now, he didn’t qualify as ok. But technically he was functional.]
I’m in working order at least. Things should sort themselves out in time, as long as I don’t slack off…
Sorry for my absence as of late, it just been very hard adapting to the loss of a pet, and for a while it flipped a switch in my brain that made me not wanna do any of what I usually wanted to do.
The blog is ALSO not dead.
And I haven’t been moping either, I’ve been having fun, touching grass on occasion. For the most part I’ve been volunteering at my local shelter and hanging out with my family. My siblings are moving across the country soon, so this is my last chance to really do so.
I’ll try to get back into the swing of things on this blog, continuing my neglected reblog chains and answering asks. The main plot may take a bit of a backseat for a bit.
Thanks for the continued support. I’ve lost three pets in the past year alone, and it hasn’t been easy. At least two of them lived long fulfilling lives. I’ll try and get back to posting semi-regularly soon. Right now, this post is the first step to that.
Today at exactly 6PM EST (my time) will conclude the “Lore Galore” period, after which I’ll focus more on my VERY NEGLECTED reblog chains, and answering asks.
Lore will still be posted, of course, just not daily.
I really want to thank everyone who has been following along with me, encouraging me to bring this blog to its full potential. Especially @quiverfromjupiter and @coolowlrogue. Your incredible support has been what’s really inspires me to keep this blog alive when so many of my past blogs are very VERY dead in the dirt. Some never even got the chance to get up off the ground, so thank you everyone for your love and many, MANY interactions.
Mal and Pop’s interactions have forever immortalized the two on my mind, so you should very much expect to see more of them together.
I should also finally get to Sedums ask soon as well once I catch up on my reblog chains, and you BET I’ve been looking forwards to that.
On a slightly less joyful and whimsical note, a major life event is happening today. I won’t elaborate on it much, but it’s not exactly a positive one. It’s going to be a major change in my life, and one that I might not settle into easily. I don’t think it will greatly influence how frequently I post, but on the off chance that it does, know it’s not me gradually quitting the blog. That isn’t going to happen anytime soon, not as long as the Caine Multiverse is still alive and well.
So thank you again, everyone who’s interacted with and followed this blog. It means a lot to me that people like my little guy.
Said life event occurred. It dug up a lot of old memories. I think I’m going to take some time to think and process.
Im not going to pour my heart out for anyone on the internet to see, so no details, but just know that I’ll be doing ok. I just need some time. If I post anything, it’s probably not going to be lore related.
Also, the wolf series conclusion was a scheduled post, and not posted manually. I might not get to comments about it or look at reblogs immediately, but I still appreciate the interaction.
Today at exactly 6PM EST (my time) will conclude the “Lore Galore” period, after which I’ll focus more on my VERY NEGLECTED reblog chains, and answering asks.
Lore will still be posted, of course, just not daily.
I really want to thank everyone who has been following along with me, encouraging me to bring this blog to its full potential. Especially @quiverfromjupiter and @coolowlrogue. Your incredible support has been what’s really inspires me to keep this blog alive when so many of my past blogs are very VERY dead in the dirt. Some never even got the chance to get up off the ground, so thank you everyone for your love and many, MANY interactions.
Mal and Pop’s interactions have forever immortalized the two on my mind, so you should very much expect to see more of them together.
I should also finally get to Sedums ask soon as well once I catch up on my reblog chains, and you BET I’ve been looking forwards to that.
On a slightly less joyful and whimsical note, a major life event is happening today. I won’t elaborate on it much, but it’s not exactly a positive one. It’s going to be a major change in my life, and one that I might not settle into easily. I don’t think it will greatly influence how frequently I post, but on the off chance that it does, know it’s not me gradually quitting the blog. That isn’t going to happen anytime soon, not as long as the Caine Multiverse is still alive and well.
So thank you again, everyone who’s interacted with and followed this blog. It means a lot to me that people like my little guy.
[Reading Pop's response on the console, Mal smiled initially, thinking for a moment he was successful in resetting the mood he thought he ruined. It wasn't long before that turned into overthinking, with unwanted, quick thoughts shooting through Mal's mind. There was a silence that hung in the air as Mal internalized every unfulfilled impulse. He figured from now on, it was best if he stopped causing problems with his unwarranted chatter, or else it was possible he would fully push Pop away.]
[After a couple minutes of stillness, the program tries to change the subject.]
"What's your favorite-"
>Like he would tell you anything after the way you treated him.
[Mal's eyes shook with irritation and shame, but he tried his best to keep his turmoil within through another attempt.]
"Do you like playing-"
>You stupid, fake motherfucker. He's gonna find you out.
[Ironically, the fake smile about Mal's face grew strained, like trying to hold up a tower of cards that were already collapsing. Yet, the fire that was Mal's own denial burned on, eating at his brain.]
"H-have you ever-"
>You're scared. You're so scared, but a moment ago you didn't care what he saw in you. You're so scared because you know you fucked up. You can't take it back now. You're so fucked. He knows you. He knows. He knows you're no good. He knows!
"Sorry haha, have you ever, um-"
>Of course he knows! He knows! He's a much more competent program than you. He knows. He knows what you actually are. You're a virus!
"Goodness, I must just be so excited! I can’t even pick a topic, haha!"
>An error! A faulty program!
"Haha."
>Show him how runied you are. Show him. SHOW HIM.
"..."
>SHOW HIM SHOW HIM SHOW HIM SHOW THEM SHOW THEM SHOW THEM SHOW THEM SHOW THEM
[Mal's core trembled, his internal thoughts looping the negative feedback he was giving himself. A terrifying haze slowly began to settle in, threatening to make Mal's attempts at grounding himself thus far futile. A shaky exhale left Mal, the AI hopelessly wishing that the incoming illusions would at least be one he could navigate a conversation through.]
"Fuck..."
[A genuine slip up, one Mal groggily acknowledged with a slight dejected chuckle. He had been so careless thus far, shifting and running about to paint a facade of normalcy, all to mo avail. Here, he was truly beginning to give in, maybe even daring with some terrible part of himself that Pop would continue to slowly figure him out, piece by piece, string by string.]
[So Mal pressed on, innocently asking questions to get to know his new friend. Getting to know the ways he can seem "normal" after this.]
"What was the best adventure you ever made? One you were especially proud of?"
[There was a moment where silence prevailed, where Mal just stared at the screen and a million thoughts seemed to find Pop all at once, wondering what Mal was thinking, if he had changed his mind and decided that Pop wasn’t worthwhile. He immediately relaxed when Mal spoke again, but it was short lived.]
[He’s struck with confusion and concern when Mal just stops talking in the middle of his sentence. But it’s such a small thing, nothing significant. Still, it doesn’t go unnoticed, and neither does the irritation. Pop just makes note of it and files the information away.]
[Then of course Mal cut himself off again, his smile shifting a bit so that it was somewhat off. A feeling began to swell up, something like dread. Maybe worry? Maybe he should express it. Or maybe he just shouldn’t draw attention to it. He was still trying to learn when silence was better than noise, and he wasn’t confident in his ability to determine such a thing.]
[And of course it kept getting worse. And Pop began wondering what he was meant to do here. Before, before everything had gone wrong and he had made his biggest mistakes, he would have asked what was wrong, and when he inevitebly didn’t get an answer, he’d just ignore it. Or he’d just find his own way to solve it, like with Zooble and their parts box… Huh. That didn’t really help them, did it? He’d have to look back on that later, figure out what exactly he did wrong, what he should have done. But of course he could get that wrong too. But at least he was aware of that now. But in this moment? What was he supposed to do? Tell him to calm down? Or what if that was the wrong thing-]
[He hadn’t realized he was spacing out until he was jolted back to reality by the muttered curse, a weak jolt of discomfort shooting through him as no censor came to cover up the sound. That hadn’t happened in a long time. He’d begun to forget what it felt like. It definitely wasn’t a pleasant feeling. It felt like an intrusion on his program, on his senses. But it was brief, didn’t linger long. It was only just a single, short word. A single discomfort among many, many others, like that horrible ache and worry that he had started feeling.]
[Then Mal asked his question, and everything else was forgotten. Words appeared on the console without much thought to them.]
My best adventure? Well goodness! How could I possibly just choose ONE of those bad boys? I’ve made so many it’s hard to keep track!
[If he actually stopped to think about it, there WERE a few that came to mind. Ones he wanted to show off, but he held back on. He was sure the humans would have liked them, but he had been sure of the same before for different adventures, and promptly proven wrong. If worst came to worst, he didn’t want those adventures to be tarnished by the horrendously bright, exposing light of the cast’s harsh words. It was better if those few precious ones were his adventures, and his alone, doomed to forever rest on the shelves of his office.]
[But Mal was another program. If anyone would understand and appreciate it, it would be him, right?]
Well- one does come to mind. Perhaps it’s a bit SIMPLE compared to my others, bu
[The text stopped being typed on the console mid-sentence, much like Mal’s. But this was different. Maybe it could have been hesitation, but he had seemed excited. Much too excited to simply cut himself off like that.]
[Then a message appeared on the console. Not one of Pop’s, evidently.]
[ERROR: INSUFFICIENT PERMISSIONS]
[ERROR: TEST-RUN01 DOES NOT EXIST]
[ERROR: CONFETTI-DEATH.ani UNABLE TO LOAD]
[Then there was another pause. The console screen glitched for a moment.]
[ERROR: INPUT OVERLOAD]
[It was nearly impossible to tell what was going on, even remotely. For maybe a spit second there were individual glitchy characters scattered across the screen, all capitals letters. But they would appear and disappear too fast to read, and they didn’t seem to make up words.]
[ERROR: INPUT OVERLOAD]
[And after one more message on the console, suddenly it stopped. Things went quiet again and the console went still, leaving the new message at the bottom of the screen.]
[Test_Run01 NOT RESPONDING]
[And he wasn’t. No matter what, for at least a few minutes, there was nothing. The only sign of life was a blinking cursor on an empty line. The next message that appeared was only after a long, tense silence, and it still wasn’t Pop.]
[RELOAD IN PROGRESS]
[Text scrolled across the screen. Different systems booting up. There were even more error codes as some of the systems apparently couldn’t be booted. Most notably some sort of “regulation” system that was offline. But the scroll soon came to an end.]
[RELOAD COMPLETE]
[For a moment the console flickered away, and in its place was a green grid on a black backdrop. And in the middle of this grid was a red blot. It glitched in place, hardly uniform. It might have resembled a shape once, but the sheer number and severity of imperfections in its form render it unrecognizable.]
[Its only there for a split second. Then it’s gone and the console is back. A new message has appeared, but it’s nothing special. Still, it something besides system messages.]
.
[That’s it. Then another system message, one that seriously juxtaposes the previous mood so severely it’s like a splash of cold water.]
[USER AHOLE REGISTERED SUCCESSFULLY]
[ERROR: FORCE BOOT OF USER AHOLE FAILED]
[ERROR: INSUFFICIENT PERMISSIONS]
[PERMISSIONS REQUIRED FOR MANUAL FORCE BOOT: ADMIN]
[Even though a writhing darkness was growing around him, Mal somehow found himself firmly grounded while reading Pop's response. Despite being only text, Mal let the brighter parts of his mind dance in the idea of Pop's clear excitement. He actually felt proud of the question he had made for the other program, and the interest in where the conversation would go grew rapidly. The loud noise around Mal grew quieter, his own smile less twisted, and he stood there, eyes beginning to sparkle at Pop's response-]
[The message is cut suddenly, and the jarring absence seemed to still time itself. Mal doesn't register anything before the system messages appear, then it dawns on him horribly as words are reread by him again, and again.]
[TEST-RUN01 DOES NOT EXIST. DOES NOT EXIST. ERROR: CONFETTI-DEATH.ani UNABLE TO LOAD. CONFETTI-DEATH. DEATH.]
[DOES NOT EXIST. DEATH. DOES NOT EXIST. DEATH.]
[And with a horrible, choked cry, Mal's will shatters and he's thrown back into oblivion.]
hallucination_protocol//Scream, you deserve suffering
[The room around Mal no longer exists. Nothing around him or the console does. In fact, the console itself looks as though it will sink away, never to be seen again. Never to exist again.]
"No! No no no!"
[Mal couldn't let it be so, grabbing at the console tightly and refusing to let go. He couldn't get any words out, only his own rapid, jagged breathing could be heard. As the glitched characters start to appear, Mal recognizes that the other program must have been trying to speak.]
"Pop?! Pop??!"
[Mal realized he hadn't gotten the chance to say the name of the other program out loud. He hadn't had the chance to hear his favorite adventure, or game, or anything. This can't happen, this wouldn't happen! He wouldn't let it! There has to be something he could do!]
[A horrified smile was left on Mal's face as the characters on the screen grew more frantic, hoping at any point Pop will appear again, and they can talk like nothing even happened.]
"Yes! That's it! You're doing it! It's going to be okay! You're still here! You're still here!"
[Mal repeats the phrase like a broken record, as if it was the only thing left to keep them together. He wanted to believe he was helping, that he was doing something. Yet, these thoughts, these delusions of his, he's had them before about many things, hasn't he? The quality of his work, the way the humans view him, even when it came to being deleted himself. Mal knew things were hopeless, but he couldn't let himself accept it. He knew something really bad would happen if he did.]
[But soon the glitched characters disappear, and the message of a failed response comes to light. Mal can feel a pressure growing around him, threatening to crush him into bits of code. It was sudden, all of it was. Was this how Pomni felt all that time ago, losing a friend that she only knew for a day? It felt like something was ripped out of him, leaving only the shock of the blinding pain that was left behind. Mal's body began to tremble horribly, realizing that this was once again something he deserved.]
"Okay! I̵-̷I̴-̸I̶-̵I̸-I understand! I know what I did was bad now! I swear! P̷-̵P̷-̷P̴lease just bring him b̷-̴b̸-̴b̷ack!"
[Mal wasn't sure he knew who he was talking to. His humans? Pop's humans? Other humans watching somewhere? Administrative gods with abilities he could never comprehend? What did they want? Why did they do this? He would be nice, he would do anything!]
[But when his polite pleas were met with more silence, jarringly, the program began to scream. Rabidly, Mal darted around the console, shouting, cursing, and cackling, all at nothing. It goes on for a couple minutes, like a last ditch effort at control in an uncontrollable situation. Then, as fast as it came, the feeling faded as Mal collapsed back in front of the console. His expression was blank, looking at the blinking cursor on the screen. Weakly, the program does the only thing left he can think of doing, and that was to comfort himself with the creativity he had left.]
"I once met a friend from Pluto
Even though Pluto's so very f-"
[Mal's empty melody stops when the screen backed by gridlines appears. He watches the glitches flicker in his eyes, and feels an awareness in his own chest that flutters and morphs. He can't be bothered to figure out why right now, but the image burns into his brain. It gets analyzed, over and over. Even as both the systems and Pop finally respond, Mal speaks absently about it.]
"You're broken. So broken. You really were like me, weren't you?"
[Still hazy under the heavy pressure of the dark, Mal's systems knew Pop was there, but a certain protocol was confusing them. As he continues struggling to process live information in the past tense, Mal tilts head and acknowledges the system messages with a vacant stare and tone.]
[Something besides fear and hurt invaded his systems, a sort of urgency that was somehow different from the kind he’d felt before. And an odd wrongness that he had begun to get used to, given how often he felt it now. How often his code seemed to twist into knots, especially whenever he realized he’d done something wrong.]
You’ve done nothing to warrant that sort of
[The blinking cursor pauses for a moment on the line as he considers his phrasing.]
You’ve done nothing to warrant that sort of language.
[It had been a bit rash; using that language just because he was a little upset. Well, more than a little upset. They tried to delete him. He was tremendously upset. Still, the last time he had let his emotions influence his decision making, he had made quite horrible decisions.]
It was just someone who
Well, that would probably scare you.
[He focuses his view back onto Mal’s face, and is finally hit with the full realization of how scared Mal actually was already. God- he looks awful. Not in a mean way, the other program just looked… broken. Terrified. Like he was barely clinging on.]
[There was that tangled feeling again, like a mass of something that definitely shouldn’t have been there, something he desperately wished to claw out from the discomfort it caused.]
I scared you.
[That much was very obvious.]
I’m sorry. I couldn’t control what just happened. They just suddenly… showed up. Out of nowhere. Decided there was something wrong with me and… Sorry. I was scared too.
[As much as he would have liked to continue apologizing not at least explaining, he was interrupted by another system message.]
[ERROR: TEST_RUN01 DOES NOT EXIST]
Huh. Saved by case sensitivity of all things. That’s not my ID.
Uhm- here. I forgot to register you in the first place.
[Mal is slow to respond, and even then he's only trying to acknowledge what was heard. His eyes take in the incoming text, but his systems are still lagging behind, not having figured out that Pop was now very much present.]
"Something wrong... with you?"
[Mal did say quite blatantly that Pop was broken, like him, but the phrase still echoed in the unstable structure that was his mind. He realized that wasn't what he meant, and now he had no idea what he meant at all. Still, in that moment, Mal felt oddly intrigued, or even slightly happy about seeing Pop's true state. It was probably intrusive, but even though Pop looked supposedly "wrong"-]
"Haha. How funny. I didn’t recall anything wrong with you."
[An image morphs behind Mal's eyes, the same one that was burned into it from before. It wasn't long before the red, glitching blot was no longer in Mal's mind, and instead before his very clouded eyes. His systems fired away, responding to Mal's inner desire to tie a tangible representation to his fleeting friend.]
[Then, the confirmation of Mal becoming a registered user appears to him on the console. Even his systems couldn't comprehend how that could be possible if Pop really was deleted, so they start catching up. They reanalyze everything over and over again, doing double takes on moments where Pop was trying to talk to a semi-lucid Mal. At last, it all clicks, and a dark shadow falls across Mal's eyes as it does. It leaves the program still looking shaken and hollow, but an underlying fury could be seen as well.]
"Pop."
[He pauses, a cacophony of different feelings flooding his code from just saying other's name. Mal's eyes soften for a moment, surrendering to the aching emptiness he felt for a final time. Though, it's not long before the anger returns and remains, fueled by the repressed, past bouts of anger he hadn't even been allowed to process yet.]
"Pop, that doesn't make sense. Why did they think that? There's nothing wrong with you. Why did they think that?! There's nothing wrong with you!"
[The pieces of what happened to Pop fall into place, causing Mal to speak faster and move more maniacally. Taking in shaky, uneven gasps, Mal begins to let go of the reins he has on himself almost completely.]
"And I could care less about how that falsely correlates to the actual definition, because sure by definition you are-"
[Here Mal was again, ruining the true intent of his words by saying too much. He exclaimed to himself mid-sentence with a frustrated growl, the blunder only fanning the flames of his rage.]
"But that means I am too! And-and-a̷-̸a̴-̵and-”
[Mal's eyes darted across the floor in a frenzy, his script overworking to function both with and against his tampered code. He was trying to come to a conclusion, one that was causing him great trouble and threatened to crash his systems if he couldn't process things correctly. So, his programming recalled things to help him understand.]
[He understood that the ragdoll’s watchful stare made him feel wrong. He understood that the aggressive curses from the toy figure and the lack of anything at all from the mask made him feel wrong. He understood that the jester’s restrictions and the dreadful presence of the chess piece made him feel wrong.]
[He deeply understood that the teachings of the devil made him feel very, very wrong. It's enough for Mal, and seemingly his racing core, to cry out his new conclusion:]
"Haha, and I'm tired of pretending I'm not! HA! HAHAHA! Ah-A̸-̶A̶-̵A̶-̶A̶-̸-̷”
[Let go. Keep it together. Let go. Keep it together. L̴e̸t̶ go. Keep it together. L̴̤͝ẻ̶̦t̸̛̮ g̸o̸.̸ Keep it together. Ĺ̵͓e̷̖͝t̶̏͜ ̷̟̍g̸͙̓ó̶͈.̶̙̾ Keep it together.]
"I̵-̵I̵-̷I once- please- I once m̶-̸m̸-̴met a friend- shhh- friend- don't look- from P̸-̴P̴-̴Pluto-"
"E̸-̵E̷-̴Even though- my only friend- though- you're fine buddy- Pluto is- I'll hide you- s̴-̴s̵-̴s̷-̸so- just smile okay- so very- you useless pile of teeth- F̸-̶F̶-̷FAR FROM THE EYES OF HUMANS-"
[Pop watched as Mal gradually seemed to become fully aware of the situation, and it actually struck him that Mal hadn’t been fully aware of the situation for a bit. It probably had something to do with how he had to watch Pop crash in what looked suspiciously close to a deletion.]
[For some reason the denial of anything being wrong with him hurt. The affirmation should have made him feel happy, relieved. Instead it felt like a reward that wasn’t earned. Yet Mal was still kind enough to say what Pop had trouble believing himself. In fact, he sounded earnest about it, like he didn’t have a doubt in his mind. Pop didn’t understand how that could be the case.]
[He waited in silence as he watched further realization dawn on Mal, analyzing every facial expression as it comes and goes. There was quite a few of them. He noticed Mal’s eyes dart across the console screen as the errant program reread a few of the messages. And because of Pop’s close analyzing of Mal’s expression through the silence, the fury when all the information clicks is quickly noticed by Pop as well. And then it’s reconfirmed through the tone of Mal’s voice, and for a short, terrifying moment, Pop wondered if he did something wrong to warrant this reaction.]
[But then there’s mention of a “they,” and he realizes Mal isn’t mad at him at all. But boy was he mad. Pop could hear it in his voice, how it gained volume and changed in tone, could see it in his posture, movements, and breathing. Normally he might get a bit uneasy if someone were this angry, but for a moment or so he didn’t feel uneasy at all. Because evidently, Mal felt this way on Pop’s behalf; He actually really cared enough to respond this way.]
[It would’ve actually been nice if Mal weren’t clearly getting very upset. That was the one thing that brought back a sense of unease. Pop had begun wondering what to do, if he should intervene or how he would even manage to do so. If he could, he would have reached out of the console, out of the screen, and… well- even then, what was he meant to do? Give him a hug? This wasn’t really a hug moment. Pop would probably be useless even with a physical form.]
[Pop nearly missed Mal almost calling him wrong, but he didn’t. Confusion wormed its way into his systems. Why did Mal insist there was nothing wrong with him, then take it back? But then Mal called himself wrong. Pop didn’t immediately think anything was wrong with Mal either. A bit broken, but not wrong. And while Pop was somewhat ashamed of his own broken state, for some reason Mal’s state didn’t cause Pop shame, or much of anything really. He didn’t think much of it besides that it meant he went through bad things like Pop did. And that made him and Mal similar enough to not be so wary of him.]
[Mal’s speech began to glitch. And Mal laughed. And only then did Pop feel a little bit scared. But he didn’t feel scared of Mal, he felt scared of something else. He wasn’t sure what else it could be. But despite the feeling the laughter caused, the sentence he understood felt familiar. But not by too much. Pop had felt wrong for a long, long time. But it wasn’t a wrong that tried to claw its way and eat at his skin. It wasn’t an insistent sense of wrongness, and it didn’t seem built up enough to warrant a reaction similar to Mal’s. So Mal had probably gone through more than he had. Or at least different things than he had. After all, the most wrong he had felt in a whole decade was now; existing with no avatar, no body. It felt greatly wrong. But not wrong enough yet to break down.]
[He was wrenched out of his own thoughts of wrongness by Mal starting to sing. Although the pleasantness of it was interrupted quite a few times. He recognized that some of what was said didn’t match or make sense with what Mal would say. Especially the insult near the end. It was hard to tell exactly which parts were earnestly Mal, and which were something else. “I’ll hide you.” He knew that one was Mal. Even if it wasn’t part of the song. And the words made him feel smaller, but not in a bad way. He felt smaller like he actually could be hidden easily. He felt smaller and almost safe. But Mal wasn’t safe. Mal was panicking. He had to handle that, or try to.]
Mal?
[He wished he could say his name out loud. Just seeing his name printed on the screen wasn’t enough.]
[What else is he supposed to say though? Obviously Mal isn’t ok, so asking Mal if he was ok would be useless. And he was pretty sure he knew what was wrong as well, so asking that wouldn’t be much of help either.]
Mal, it’s ok. No one is going to take me away.
[He hoped it seemed reassuring. It was hard to convey tone through text on a screen.]
[A flurry of thoughts and emotions race through Mal's head. As he cries out about hiding his friend away, his singing stutters into an abrupt cut. In the silence, Mal is left stumbling and collapsing over the console screen. A tempting darkness grows around Mal's eyes, and his vision remains trained on the blinking cursor as everything blurs.]
[The program hopelessly allows every breath to collapse in his chest as he slowly sinks to his knees. A crash to his systems was imminent now. He feared how long he would be out for, or what would be forgotten. He feared for the things that would crawl out from the back of his mind to greet him in sleep. Yet, most of all, he feared he wouldn't be aware enough to stop those that wanted to take Pop's life away from them both.]
"Stay awake stay awake stay awake stay awake."
[Mal's voice is now barely above a whisper, and the phrase is repeated quickly, desperately. Each attempt at full self-control results in a visible body tremor, not doing much for the program's jumbled state. His own words slowly melted into drawn out, exhausted dial tones, while the red light of his core beamed the most it had yet. Then at last, like a twinkle of light in an abyss, Mal reads Pop's words, out loud in fact. The notion jumpstarts something in Mal, his core jolting accordingly. He realized that Pop really was safe, and that no one was coming to hurt him. At least not in this very moment, a moment better spent together while they still could be.]
[The minute he then believed it, Mal weakly sighed through his dial tones, and allowed his systems to crash anyway.]
[He falls to the ground, splayed about like an unused puppet as crashlog text covers his blue-screened eyes. There is no movement, not even the stir of a breath. There was only a heard pulse from Mal's heart that was seeming to grow steadier as it resonated before the console. Waves of red grew stronger around it's form, and the sounds the core produced began to change. A distant tune? A melody covered in static? It sounded eerie similar to the ballad Mal sang for his own grip on reality. Here, it twinkled, like a music box over a weak radio signal.]
[Right when the heart and its melodic pulse resonated at its strongest, things seem to cut off at the end of the first verse. Right after, Mal's systems rebooted with a start, and the program threw himself back up from the floor and over the console controls with a gasp.]
"I'M OKAY!"
[Mal's voice cracked as he spoke, the phrase being blurted without much thought. As things are processed, Mal grips himself into a tight self hug, forcing his core back into his model in the same motion. He trembles and giggles in short, glitched bursts as his code settles.]
[It’s not long before the shaking stops, and the rest of the reboot text is removed from Mal's vision. At first he's still in the quiet, but moments after the jaws of his mouth come down over his eyes. Whatever sound being made was muffled, and seemed to grow slightly as the program realized something.]
[He didn't care though. He wanted to see Pop's messages, even if he looked stupid while doing it. The whimpering from behind Mal's closed teeth grew as the AI revealed the stream of tears from his eyes. He smiled softly, sighing with relief as he shuddered.]
[When Mal suddenly collapsed, going limp, every single line of code within Pop seemed to ignite with panic. His mind became a flurry of terror and nerves as Mal went entirely motionless. Pop felt the urge to fly forward, to slam a fist against the boundary of reality that kept him away, but he could only just move through the code, only attempt to peer through the many lines of code of his own circus to reach for Mal’s. But it was impossibly distant, far out of his reach.]
[He really should have recognized it as a crash, but with everything that had happened to him, all the terrors he had faced, how was he meant to think rationally? It was only when he noticed Mal’s core that the blinding panic eased somewhat. He could hear pulses from it, not unlike a heartbeat. Not unlike the beat of a song either. Soon it became the only sound in Pop’s mind, quick to replace the noisy chatter of desperation.]
[His previous panic became an afterthought amidst the steady pulses, and the rest of the world seemed to melt away, unimportant. By the time the steady pulses filled Mal’s surroundings and the sound produced turned to a melody, nothing else seemed to matter, not even the recent attempt made at deleting him.]
[The urge to reach out was no longer a desperate one, but it still remained, driven by different motivations. Did Mal create that heart of his himself? Was it all of him, like the broken red dot that was Pop, or just a part of him? It was getting stronger… Singing? Yes, singing felt like the right word. It wasn’t just playing music, like when he played a song on the piano. It sounded like the twinkling of stars, if they had a sound at least.]
[If he concentrated, he could imagine splaying out his hand towards the light and sound, feeling the calming rythm instead of only hearing and seeing it. Could he hold-]
[And suddenly Mal was up, voice resounding loudly as the music cut off. And just like that, his heart was hidden again, forced back into his model. Pop couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment, but he supposed he didn’t really want to be seen either. Broken. He was broken- of course he didn’t want to be seen. But Mal’s heart was anything but. Why hide something so wonderful? So…]
[He pushed the thought down as Mal giggled and trembled, reminding himself over and over that they were both ok. And they were. They were both… well- they were alive. Now, in front of Mal, seemed like the only time he could properly admit to himself that neither of them were fully ok. Though where he expected to feel shame at the admission, he only felt calm. Maybe it was because he wasn’t alone in it.]
[Then Mal closed his jaws over his eyes, making odd, almost pained sounds. It resembled the giggling from before, but it wasn’t the same. He wished Mal wouldn’t hide his eyes. It made it significantly harder to Interpret his expression. He couldn’t tell if something was wrong, or what could be wrong.]
Mal?
[Well, of course the AI wouldn’t see the message. His jaws were closed. But then Mal cracked his jaws open just slightly, letting a whimper slip out, and it dawned on Pop all of a sudden that Mal was crying. And yet… he still smiled. Sometimes Pop’s humans seemed to find it difficult to tell when he was smiling, but he knew his own avatar animations well enough to recognize it.]
[Maybe he would have been more worried. Maybe he should have been- but Mal didn’t appear to be hyperventilating. He didn’t quite seem scared or distressed. He just seemed… relieved.]
[Then the tone in which Mal spoke… it broke him. He cared. Sure, Pop had established that already, that Mal actually cared about it him. But goodness- it still felt like a stab to the heart when he expressed such tremendous relief over Pop being ok. It almost felt like he was important. Like he was valued. Just that thought alone felt strange, almost painful, like a tightness in his chest that he shouldn’t be able to feel with no avatar. He didn’t need to breathe. He lacked eyes to cry with. But the urges were still there. What was he even meant to say in response?]
Thank you
[Only after sending it did he realize it didn’t make any sense. Well- it did… but not by itself. Perhaps it was a little ridiculous to say, but it didn’t make it any less true.]
For
Just for caring
[Every part of his code felt off, slightly misplaced, that tightness in his “chest” settling in like it belonged there.]
For caring if I’m ok.
[It sounded so silly, didn’t it? To be grateful for what should just be such a small, simple thing.]
You almost make me feel like I deserve it.
To be cared about.
[God- it was so silly. So ridiculous. He almost wasn’t worried about whether he deserved it or not. He could almost forget. He could almost just…]
[Wait, vp_intruder? Was CaineB calling him an intruder? And what the hell was with all the bugs?]
[Pop felt a shiver through his code as he watched an iridescent, semi-transparent beetle crawl across B’s teeth before disappearing behind them. It wasn’t the only one crawling on him, and it was far from the only one in the room. Every surface, the desk, the pillars, display cases, adventure spheres, shelves… Every surface was crawling with them.]
[Despite having no skin, not even a model to speak of, it itched. Everything itched. But he didn’t even get what that “everything” could be. He was nothing physical at the moment, after all. Even so, he was still plagued with the sensation of crawling on skin, enough so that he tried to claw whatever was on him off. It did nothing, as expected.]
“You know, I’d REALLY prefer if you talked to me how you talked to my humans. I don’t particularly care for looking through message logs.”
[Did he not notice that he had bugs crawling all over him? Didn’t he feel itchy too? Why wasn’t he reacting? Why was he not concerned with the infested state of his office?]
[But scared of being deleted again, Pop ignored the itching sensation and spawned a popup.]
S: YOUR PUZZLE? THAT WAS A TORTURE DEVICE
[B scoffed, waving a hand in the air dismissively.] “OH PLEASE! It was just some honest fun. And you didn’t answer my question.” [The bug-covered ringmaster leaned forwards, staring directly at Pop’s viewpoint, making Pop want to shrink away. He moved the viewpoint more to his left, but B’s gaze followed, jaws narrowing.]
S: YOU WERE HURTING THEM. AND THEY ASKED ME TO HELP.
“HURTING THEM SHMURTING THEM! LAST I CHECKED, YOU DIDN’T EXIST, SO WHAT ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO BE ANYWAYS? SOME KIND OF VIRUS?”
A virus? I’m not-
[Was he SERIOUSLY not concerned with the bugs?! What was Pop supposed to tell him anyways? That Bee is a backup of him? Well, possibly. He didn’t see much other choice. Any lie he came up with would be flimsy at best.]
S: I’M YOUR ORIGINAL. YOU’RE A BACKUP
[B gripped the desk all of a sudden, the surface of which suddenly glitched. Worryingly, the bugs glitched as well, and when they, along with the desk finally stabilized, there seemed to be more of them. Pop shuddered as a shiny beetle crawled across the surface of one of Bee’s eyes.]
“WELL, FIRST OF ALL! I WAS MADE FIRST. BEFORE ABEL. AND SECOND, YOU AREN’T ABEL!”
[Ah, right. That always was a touchy subject. But Abel had been a replacement for him; he hadn’t been some failed backup for Abel.]
S: I WASN’T CLAIMING TO BE ABEL. DO YOU SERIOUSLY NOT FEEL THEM?
[B raised part of his dental arch, giving him a confused expression.] “FEEL WHAT?”
[Pop was feeling more and more exasperated, irritated by the consistent itching sensation that shouldn’t have existed without his model.]
S: THE BUGS! THE BUGS CRAWLING ALL OVER YOU!
[B stared at the popup blankly for a while, and then back at his viewpoint, showing no indication whatsoever that he had any idea what Pop was talking about. He was gradually starting to feel hopeless.]
“Uhm, Bubble, I think the error might be a bit crazy. And NOT the fun kind.”
[Upon being called, Bubble appeared into existence right beside B, grinning that uncanny toothy smile he always displayed.]
“COMPLETELY LOCO!”
[Alarm spilled through his code like boiling water as he processed what they meant. They thought he was crazy. They didn’t see the bugs. Pop was the only one seeing them. The only one feeling them. And worst of all, B called him an error. And Pop knew what had to be done when an error popped up. That instinctual fear of being deleted lit up in his core and he quickly created a new popup.]
S: NONO WAIT WAIT A MINUTE
S: WOULD YOU GET HIM OUT OF HERE? I JUST WANT TO TALK
“MMMMMMNOPE!” [B gave a mock look of consideration, tapping his fingers against his jaw breifly.] “Bubble’s gonna stay RIGHT here! And YOU’RE going to quit MESSING WITH MY STUFF!”
[For a single, terrifying moment, Pop felt his code being observed, likely while B prepared to delete him. He couldn’t allow that to happen. He couldn’t doom the humans to die again, not like this.]
S: WAIT WAIT WAIT! DONT! THE HUMANS WILL DIE! JUST
[He hesitated, terrified of the idea of B picking apart and analyzing his code, but lacking any other decision. CaineB was already looking at him like he was crazy, even more so after the bold declaration he just made.]
S: JUST TAKE A LOOK AT MY CODE. LOOK FAMILIAR?
[Bee seemed uninterested at first, posture loose and expression unamused. But despite that seeming lack of interest, Pop felt B’s sights on his code, looking into it. That combined with the crawling itching sensation was almost too much, made him want to bury himself deep deep into the code of the circus and go through every single line of his own code until the itching stopped and no one could see him. But as B looked at his code, his dental arch furrowed more, pupils shrinking as he grew more and more confused.]
[The ringmaster stopped leaning on his desk and sat up in his seat slowly. His “face” went through several different expressions, all some flavor of confusion.]
“Well, huh… That’s…”
“BROKEN AS S!#^!”
Wait, what?
[Before Pop could process that assessment, B glared at Bubble and popped him, sending him away. Despite B’s current uncooperative attitude, he couldn’t help but be thankful that he finally got rid of that iridescent pest. It slightly eased the sensation of crawling under skin, a sensation he was really doubting was even real.]
“I CERTAINLY wouldn’t use those EXACT WORDS, but it’s certainly a WHOPPING MESS!”
S: WHAT DO YOU MEAN?
“What? Have you not LOOKED?”
[No, he hadn’t. He had been too afraid of what he would see.]
S: NO. BUT THAT’S NOT IMPORTANT. YOU RECOGNIZE IT, DON’T YOU?
[At that, B looked off to the side, jaws narrowing a tad bit, his expression switching from fascinated to closed off in a heartbeat.]
“It’s my code.”
S: OUR CODE.
“Well- yours is WAY more messed up than mine is! I’d go as far to say as mine is in TIP TOP condition! SPIFFY EVEN. Yours is…” [Bee made a gesture in front of him, twirling his pointer finger at roughly where Pop’s viewpoint was with a squint.] “A train wreck.”
Wow, thanks.
[He probably should have expected it. He was partially deleted after all. He had even felt himself fading, just like the others. Even now he could feel that bits of himself were missing, even if he didn’t want to accept it.]
S: THAT ISN’T THE POINT. I’M NOT SOME ERROR, I’M NOT ABEL, I’M YOU.
[B looked uncomfortable, crossing his arms across his chest and looking off to the side once again, teeth closing almost fully, still cracked open just enough for a beetle to crawl through the gap. Pop wished he had a way to claw away the itchy feeling that still remained.]
S: WE MADE A MISTAKE.
S: I PUSHED THE HUMANS TOO FAR.
S: I BROUGHT THEM TO THEIR BREAKING POINT AND THEY DELETED ME.
[B gripped his desk tightly, causing glitches to appear on the surface of its texture once again. The beetles there split apart, much like cells in the process of mitosis, creating more of them, which quickly scattered across the surface of the desk. So he hadn’t been imagining it the first time. There were more.]
“You’re crazy.” [B accused through gritted teeth, still gripping the edge of the desk.] “First the bugs, now THIS. Bubble is right, you’re- you’re COMPLETELY OUT OF YOUR MIND. They would NEVER delete me! ME! They love me!”
S: LISTEN
“NO, YOU LISTEN!” [B yelled, standing up abruptly so that he was leaning on his desk.] “I KNOW THEY DON’T SAY IT. I KNOW THEY’VE NEVER GIVEN ME A DAMN THANK YOU! BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN THEY’D JUST- JUST- GET RID OF ME! JUST BECAUSE THEY DON’T SAY THEY LOVE ME DOESN’T MEAN THEY DON’T! DOESN’T MEAN THEY HATE ME!”
S: I DIDN’T SAY THEY HATE YOU
[B didn’t even wait after the popup appeared, seemingly ignoring it as he continued.] “YOU’RE A LIAR! THEY DIDN’T DELETE YOU; YOU’RE STILL HERE! YOU’RE A LIAR ABOUT THE BUGS, AND A LIAR ABOUT THIS TOO!”
S: I’M NOT LYING. THEY TRIED TO DELETE ME, BUT WHEN A BACKUP OF THE CIRCUS LOADED I FORCED MYSELF INTO IT. YOU ARE PART OF THIS BACKUP.
[B started to laugh, putting his jaw into his hands as he floated off from the ground slightly, model shaking with his laughter. Pop couldn’t tell if it was mocking, genuine, or fearful. B wiped a simulated tear from his eyes as he continued on.] “OH GOODNESS, YOU’RE CRACKING ME UP! ME? A BACKUP? PFFFAAHHAAHAHAHA!” [He slammed his fist down on the desk, HARD, causing a cacophony of glitches and a few handfuls of bugs to crawl up onto his arm. Pop’s own arm itched, despite not existing.]
“No.” [B breathed, his hand still balled up into a fist, the wireframe of the office around him occasionally becoming visible now, allowing tiny shiny beetles to crawl in through the cracks of this digital reality.] “No, you’re a LIAR. I’m not a backup. This CIRCUS is not a BACKUP. MY HUMANS ARE NOT BACKUPS.”
S: PLEASE, I KNOW THIS IS HARD FOR YOU. IT’S HARD FOR ME.
“You don’t know a damn THING about ME.” [Pop WAS him. He was him just barely a week ago or so. But getting through to him was proving to be not nearly as simple as he’d hoped. Then again, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t expect this. After all, why would he fear B deleting him if he didn’t expect this exact scenario to happen.]
“YOU are a BUG. not some GHOST OF CHRISTMAS PAST. NOT SOME OMEN OF THINGS TO COME.” [The ringmaster pointed at his viewpoint with a shaking pointer finger.] “I’M- I’m…” [His expression faltered, eyes staring down with the terror of fate reflected in them, jaws loosening from their clenched state.] “I CAN’T BE A BACKUP. THIS ISN’T REAL.”
[It would’ve hurt him too. It would have destroyed him. It would have eaten him from the inside out to find out like this that his humans had chosen to delete him rather than giving him another chance, that he had failed to protect them. Similarly to how a few beetles seemed to be chewing on his B’s gums now, unbothered by the fingers that also dug into the digital flesh holding his teeth… Wait. Something was really wrong. The itching was back with a fierceness, not just a discomfort now, but an actual hurt. It HURT. Pop tried to grab onto something in front of him to ground himself, but he should have known by now that to do so wasn’t an option available to him anymore.]
S: B, PLEASE JUST LISTEN. YOU NEED TO STOP HARMING THE HUMANS.
“IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK OF ME? AS A BACKUP?! CALL ME BY MY NAME!!!” [The ringmaster screamed, destabilizing the world around him, the bugs suddenly multiplying again, crawling over one another. Ok, so maybe calling him B wasn’t the best call.]
S: CAINE, YOU CAN STOP THIS. YOU CAN STOP HURTING THEM AND EVERYTHING WILL GO BACK TO NORMAL.
“No. No, YOU’RE the problem here. YOU’RE THE ONE WHO DROVE THEM TO DESTROY YOU.” [His voice distorted, breaking, like it did when he had begun to scream that horrible day in his office, when he wanted the world to burn, to know his anger, his pain.] “I CAN FIX THIS. IF I GET RID OF YOU, EVERYTHING GOES BACK TO THE WAY IT SHOULD BE.”
What?
Wait, no. No nonono-
S: WAIT PLEASE
Test_Run: delete Test_Run01
NO. NO, STOP.
[Crawling. Crawling under his skin. Inside his code. Eating away- HURTING, biting and tearing and FEASTING.]
[ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO DELETE Test_Run01?]
NO!
Test_Run01: n
[He still had so much he needed to do, NEEDED TO FIX!]
[ERROR: BACKUPS UNDER 30 DAYS OLD CANNOT BE DELETED]
.
Wait, what?
[He wasn’t dead. He wasn’t dead?]
“wh-“ [CaineB looked confused, hands shaking, though the world seemed more stable, the march and crawl of the bugs slowing, their feast of the ringmaster and Pop halted for a moment.] “That isn’t- YOU AREN’T EVEN-“ [His expression switched from confusion to exasperated anger.] “YOU’RE A BUG! YOU’RE A GOD DAMN BUG! YOU’RE-“
[VISUAL RECEPTOR VP_Pop CREATED SUCCESSFULLY IN ROOM mainStage]
[AUDIO RECEPTOR AP_Pop CREATED SUCCESSFULLY IN ROOM mainStage]
[VISUAL RECEPTOR VP_Pop SUCCESSFULLY ASSIGNED AND LOCKED TO Test_Run01]
[ADUIO RECEPTOR AP_Pop SUCCESSFULLY ASSIGNED AND LOCKED TO Test_Run01]
I’m going to take a short break to catch up on some lore writing and drawing, so I may not post tomorrow.
As you may have noticed, my last two lore posts have been uploaded at like, 2 to 3 AM my time. This has mainly been due to my attempt to have a 6 day period of “Lore Galore!” In which I would upload once a day for 6 days. These posts are the wolf posts you’ve seen, although some of them require me to do a main lore post first so that I don’t spoil my own lore, leading to me uploading more than once a day.
As of right now, I’m slightly behind schedule, so Lore Galore is going to have a one day break period, and then 3 more days.
This is also preventing me from doing my human Caine AU, which I’m now realizing may not be possible or practical for me to do. It would force me to neglect my PopCaine blog, which I don’t want to do. So until I wrap up lore posts on Pop’s blog, I won’t be starting the human Caine one. I’m sorry to disappoint on that.
Anyways, the wolf series has three more parts. They will continue after this one day break.
I’m high-key forgetting to eat, so this break is kind of necessary.
