#scribble drabble

[silly-starry-scribble]

In wake of all the insanity, when she's really thinking about all the circumstances of her new life- which, it really is, for all they know-

It only serves to fill her with sadness and grief, as opposed to fear.

Caine wouldn't mean to hurt or scare them, right? He isn't evil...

There probably wouldn't have been anyone else in the circus but her, if that were the case. They would've found their exits, one way or another.

Though their ideas are limitless, no imagination or code (hopefully) too small, this is also all she has. All they all have, as far as she knows.

The only real, human friends she's got. Who's there when she arrives, and who remains when...

...She can't even picture abstraction.

This is her family, now. What remained of her previous life is now lost to time, and her spotty memory.

She wants to keep them happy, of course, that's all she wants to do.

Many-a night is spent curled up crying in her room, not even the starlight to soothe her.

Her old life is gone. Her family, the comforts of her room, the normal daily schedule and regular progressions of a human's life...

...And her music. Some of it, she'll never hear again.

She's already forgotten.

★ ★ ★

Their survival lies within their mental state. Sanity is life.

But she can't predict when someone could go insane, or if or when it could be her.

She can't predict any of it, so she can't plan for it as well. She can't protect what she has left.

Sure, she's got a fresh start, a whole new life that's essentially the fantasy and daydream she'd been wishing for when reality got too tough-

But once fantasy becomes reality... the grass is always greener on the other side.

The sunlight fades to starlight.

She's started singing to the stars, the way she used to as a kid.

Wishing they'd keep her friends safe and happy and healthy.

Wishing they'd keep them alive.

And telling her friends she loves them. Maybe they'll hear it someday.

The sadness and grief lie in uncertainty and pain.

But at least it isn't fear she feels.

She doesn't want to be scared.

So she won't be.

[silly-starry-scribble]

"She shows the world up with a smile, and then she throws the fight."

And an unfortunate fight it is, at that.

A war within herself, almost. The circumstances can't be nearly that bad... Abstraction can't be that quick, right?

She keeps her defenses up. A damn-shame, really; always having to stay on guard and hype yourself up to keep yourself alive because you can't keep your cool enough to do so.

She doesn't know what she'll wake up to. Not like anyone else, does, either.

But that smile, those eyes...

Even if full of spite and willpower stronger than the permanence of death itself, she has no choice but to keep going; to protect her peace.

...But it seriously can't be that bad, right?

Despite her day-to-day swinging between both her emotional spectrum's extremes, she still remains.

Probably not a good idea to fixate on it, though.

[silly-starry-scribble]

i wrote more lightshow last night because i couldn't sleep

★ what caine does when starry can't sleep since she has a horrible sleep schedule ★

★ he makes sure she's nice and comfy, turns some of her fairy lights and her star lamp on for gentle lighting

★ extra blankets n shit with a snap of a finger

★ cuddling like nobody's business

★ world's best bedtime stories i'm so serious

★ he sings her to sleep or they hum together

[silly-starry-scribble]

lightshow bullet points as a reward for my patience

★ bumblebee as a pet-name she has for him

and then

i raise you

the honey to his bumblebee :33333

★ "Welcome back, my darling little starling!"

★ she absolutely leaves little bee drawings around the circus for him to find in hopes they cheer him up like someone leaving little "i love you" notes in their partner's lunch

★ big puzzle room. just for her.

bonus points, it's also a sensory room

★ i absolutely feel like he'd have a corkboard or just. a wall. full of aforementioned bee doodles

★ THEY SING TOGETHER !!!!!!!!!!!!!! THEY SO SING TOGETHER !!!!!!!!!!!!! CANON BECAUSE I'M WRITING IT !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

★ whether or not The Assistant Arc happens, starry absolutely has a notebook full of adventure ideas and notes and feedback and,,, she's so into it >w<

★ she hangs out in the prop storage closet(s)(?) (i feel like he'd have a room or two full of props n shit from old adventures like w/the npc models) and just,,, sits and sorts

and sometimes snatches things for her personal collection but he lets her,, it's like a piece of him is always with her

★ surprisingly she doesn't come to him all that often when she regresses (she mostly hangs out with kinger if he's not in the middle of something because he's incredibly calming and she also loves his pillowfort) ★ but on the occasions that she does, the immersion when she wants to play is immaculate. caine's in full-costume with the snap of a finger.

he is THE prettiest princess.

★ she gives him little kisses on the head and on the underside of his jaw most of the time since i haven't quite,,,,, figured out legit romantic kissing with them yet,,,,, and also they hold hands a bunch it's real caine told me so :3

★ starry and bubble absolutely match each other's freak. it's like the way she banters with jax

[silly-starry-scribble]

"don't you believe in yourself?"

Again, like a mantra.

What reason wouldn't she have for this?

It all just boils down to problems and solutions, right? Nothing she can't solve...

You'll solve all your problems, anyway, right?

Even the loneliness. Even fighting it. You're going to fight it.

You don't know if or when they or you will abstract.

Your "million lifetimes" aren't here anymore, Starling.

★ ★ ★

What reason don't I have to believe in myself?

She paces.

I mean- sure, I'm anxious, and always worried about how I'm perceived and if it'll cause them to leave, but... loss is a part of life, after all. I've dealt with loss before.

Maybe the memory's the one thing I can guarantee I'll hold onto.

That's it, a guarantee. Nothing bad can happen if I just- keep holding onto what I've got, right?

Is loss the one thing I'm worried about...? Being alone...?

I can handle a little perfectionism, surely, I'll practice that with my drawing...

Okay, the loneliness has to be the biggest problem I've got.

...Apart from the obvious.

So then all I need to do is just...

She looks down at her paws.

Be resourceful, but- make the most of it. If anything can happen, here, and the only way I'd die is through abstraction-

Then, logically, I can do anything!

Her eyes shine brightly, with an almost desperate, self-spiteful determination.

Just solve the problems, communicate as best I can, cope with the loneliness, and keep the good memories in my heart as fuel for hope and motivation, and then I won't go insane and abstract and die!

It's... that simple.

...Like collecting stuff 'n' making stuff with it.

Like... scrapbooking. Yeah.

I'll just stay all scrapped together.

Perfect.

[silly-starry-scribble]

"the body is like a battery. every now and then, you need to recharge a little."

All this self-care mantra she'd repeat as if to parent herself, she'd never quite get.

Of course, self-care is of utmost importance, especially in an environment where sanity (hopefully) equals survival.

But so much of the mental weight has shifted since then.

Much less of a human body to take care of, in exchange for prioritizing mental wellbeing, and throwing out old habits.

...Like being a people-pleaser, for one. And treating gifts and kind gestures as something of trade.

And she has to do something about that longing feeling, eventually... I'll have to bet it's loneliness.

But seeing as she has to tend to her mind like a garden, now, more than ever, it might also be a good opportunity to work on her self-caregiving skills.

...And maybe work up the courage to ask someone else about this whole thing, someday.

Starry paces back and forth in her room, mumbling other such reassurances to herself to help... believe it, I suppose.

Sometimes picturing herself as something else tends to help. It's like playing pretend.

She grabs her security blanket- her new one, since joining the circus, actually- and drapes it around her shoulders, a paw coming up to soothingly scritch behind her ear.

Puppa always so tired... silly puppy... She'd mumble, looking to her comfy bed softly illuminated by the surrounding strings of fairy lights.

She wonders if Caine would ever let her collect toys or things other than just art supplies for herself... She doesn't have much to work with apart from a pacifier, her plushies, a few bracelets she's made, some coloring books, and the comforts of her room. Not all that much gear.

Normally, if it weren't so late at night, she'd usually grab herself a snack and a drink... but eating's optional, here.

...Oh, right. No tablet, either.

So no Kipper the Dog.

And no music.

A nap wouldn't be of much use, either... but she doesn't feel like exploring. She'd definitely freeze up if Jax saw her like this...

She looks around her room again, and- aha!

She settles for sitting and sorting her art supplies and beads by type/shape and color. Colors are nice and simplistic, and she loves sorting. An easy favorite.

Even if she's reorganized her things about a million times, already. It's calming.

Whatever charge she can give her battery, I suppose.

It's progress.

[silly-starry-scribble]

★ LightShow angst(?) drabble below cut ! ★

⚠️ Warning for gun mentions!

"i'm not angry, i'm just scared."

I could never be mad at you. I'd never want to, anyway...

...I guess it's because I'm aware of the power you have. What you can do.

Not that I consider you a threat-

...You've got my fate in your hands. You can change it with the mere snap of a finger, and I'm powerless to it, even if a bond were formed to persuade you otherwise.

I guess less control means less to worry about, but...

I just don't know what could happen. Ever.

I don't have a majority of my normal human bodily functions, or patterns to recognize, or any sense of normalcy beyond the mind I've always had.

I don't even know what I could do, let alone what you can do.

It's just all... incredibly unfamiliar to me. I can't handle the horror.

It feels like those nightmares I used to have... they'd always end with a gun pointed to my face, no matter who'd be behind the trigger.

Caine, you're... incredibly creative with your adventures, whether something's programming this all for you, or you've got some amount of a soul in there-

But I can still feel that gun aimed at me. Even if it's not on purpose.

Even with those bright eyes behind it.