Work Text:
Pomni doesn't know what she'd consider too far, given her complicated situation.
Having been married to Caine for a fair while now, they had gotten into their own little morning and evening routine, during the times where she was whisked away from her fellow performers to a beautiful yet archaic manor that seemed all too big for the small ballerina. She felt dwarfed by every ripped up tapestry, felt threatened by every looming chandelier, felt tense at the sound of calm violins. And all in all, she still felt lost and lonely, especially given just how big the place is.
Of course, it wasn't always bereft of his busy presence. Occasionally, he'd come to tease her or to observe her. If he was feeling particularly proud or affectionate, he may spare a while to do her hair and dress her in ludicrously luxurious clothing, glaringly obvious in the red and gold hues he adored so much. There's always sparsely any blue. Sometimes he'd even indulge in her human rituals, such as actually sleeping in the bed with her instead of just popping in to say good morning or good night. (She wasn't sure whether or not she prefered the company).
And that was their normal, for the most part. Or at least, before whatever this thing that Caine started was.
Pomni knew that he was a fan of role-playing. Specifically of him being himself, but just… more. More everything. She'd been no stranger to it even before they got married, such as the night he first apologised to her. The peaceful bath, the salmon- she remembered just how much he spoiled her that very night. And she thought that that's when his interest in those roles were sparked.
They birthed personas that night, fantastical stories of star crossed lovers. Of a king being drawn in by the radiance of a peasant. Of a ringmaster adoring the doll that he knew he could and did own completely. And throughout their marriage, said personas started to bleed into their morning and evening routine.
At first, it was no more than his hand tipping her head up by the chin, a soft smile in his eyes as he bid her a good night or welcomed her to the morning. Then it was how he slowly gravitated closer and closer to her figure whenever he came to observe his mouse run around this rat's maze of a house, until eventually his lower jaw took time to rest on her head.
Even more would the situation become dire when he began to cup her face in his hands with more gentleness than she thought wasn't even possible from him. And in that moment, with the most loving and appreciative eyes, he'd praise all her efforts for that day.
Whoever these people were that they started to play, they must be dearly in love. His eyes say so. And so she reciprocated as best as she could. She'll put her hands on top of his, like she was desperate to keep them there. She'd smile whenever she caught his eye. She'd lean into his touch like she was starved of it, even if it was anything but, just to keep him- and this incredibly loving persona of a husband- happy.
It felt sugary sweet, like eight tablespoons of sugar being sifted into a mug of hot chocolate. A biting sweetness that would be made only worse with every passing day as this incredibly loving character would quickly revert back to Caine as soon as they were out of that mansion. One could never believe that he was the same one who'd whispered sweet affirmations while combing her hair that very morning, having deactivated the mannequins just for their privacy.
Despite being tempted to tell Ragatha- to vent her total confusion, to cry about the duality of this man- she didn't think Rags would believe her. Or if she did, it'd just be another reason for her and the other freaks to hate her fortunate circumstances.
Sure, it was fortunate to go to the manor instead of her little room. It was nice to be able to explore the endless corridors for an answer, it was something to put her energy into. But she just wanted to talk about stuff without being shut down just because it wasn't as bad as what everyone else had.
Sometimes she can't help but wonder how they'd deal with it, how they'd feel if they saw a snuggly and cuddly version of Caine? While she was used to it now, they certainly wouldn't be.
Nor would they be used to the way he suddenly managed to school his behaviour to one of cruelty so quickly after having the softest eyes, after speaking in the most understanding voice in the world, as if just listening to it would melt all of her conflictions, afflictions and other such problems away.
All of this is what she thought about in her (their) bed, eyes still closed, having woken up abnormally early. With this rare peace, she used the time to really sort through everything that's been happening recently. Everything feels like it's moved so quickly, and the situation just keeps changing in unpredictable ways. Pomni needed this small break to think, she really did.
“Pomni, dear?”
Of course, time is linear, and so the day must start.
She let her eyes flutter open and lock on to Caine, an imposing figure. He floated high above the bed, but low enough that she could still see him past the bed's canopy. He always seemed to place himself in a position where he'd be looking down.
He appeared as he usually did around the circus, in all his grandeur. The same burgundy blazer with a yellow inner lining, the extremely noticeable gold on his shirt, the pristine white gloves, she's only ever seen one outfit change from him. And that is whenever he changes into matching pyjamas with her, the vertically striped burgundy ones with inexplicable shoulder pauldrons.
“Good morning, Ringmaster,” she smiled softly. Her entire home life had become a bit of an acting class- she's learnt the importance of subtlety. He'd notice either way, no matter how small the detail was. That's why it was important to include.
Having been given a response, he floated towards her, eyes wandering her sleep-riddled form which she slowly pushed up to a sitting position. He took in every single detail of her, like she'd be gone if he blinked.
Caine reached out a hand, cupping Pomni's face, thumb idly wiping her cheek as if trying to memorise the sensation of her wooden features through his glove.
“Good morning, my doll,” Caine spoke softly, as if trying to not break the blanket of tranquillity that seemed to be wrapped over this moment. Only able to smile in response, she let her hand come up to hold his one, almost like she was trying to press it into her cheek, to be closer by any means possible.
She hoped he could read her gaze- one that held a thousand words.
(Nobody said the words all had to be good).
“Come along now, my love. You should get ready for the day, it'll be a long one.” He retreated from the position, instantaneously transporting them to a different room with a vanity and numerous other care products. As soon as they entered, the mannequins dropped like puppets with their strings cut, and it was only them.
Caine was never good with transitions.
Instinctively, she made her way to the stool in front of the vanity, taking her place and letting Caine come behind her. His hands combed through her hair. All the while, he looked down at Pomni as if she were a priceless antique.
Pomni hazarded an ask, “What did you mean?”
“Hm?”
“What did you mean, that today will be long?”
“Ah, right.” Caine soured. At first, Pomni worried it was towards her, but the unchanging and consistently pressured combing of her hair told her otherwise. “Able plans to drop by today.”
“Eugh.” That gets a chuckle out of him.
“And worse yet, he's managed to convince me to entertain whatever he wants to do with everyone for the day.” Caine spared a hand to make a pinching motion between his eyes in frustration, though she isn't sure how exactly it should work out, considering his lack of eyebrows.
“What’s he got planned that's so bad?” she tilted her head, looking at his focused eyes through the mirror.
“That's the bad part, I'm simply not privy to what he's planned.”
Pomni hummed, dissatisfied with how unprepared she felt today. Able was unpredictable, especially with how varied his appearances were. Who knows what could happen.
Soon enough, Pomni was snapped into her performing outfit, looking as new as the day she arrived.
“You're beautiful.”
Pomni hoped that the tingle in her cheeks was blush, and used one hand to shyly cover her mouth in faux embarrassment as the other hand waved away his bold compliment.
“Well now, my doll, we really must be going now. Else we'll never hear the end of it from my brother…” He looked as annoyed as Pomni felt. But she couldn't help but notice how much lighter his expression became once he saw Pomni's own dampened one at the mention of her inlaw.
And with that, he snapped them both away to greet everyone else.
______________________________
When he brought her out of the manor himself, she never walked in with him in toe. In fact, he always made it a point to show minutes before or after her own appearance.
This is why she approached the slowly growing hoard of freaks alone, and no Caine was in sight. A fairly impatient-looking Able floated above them all, only seeming more frustrated as time went on.
Soon enough, everybody else was waiting around, and Caine was the only non-attendee.
“Why does he never respect my time,” Able began to ramble. “You, Pomni, right? Where is he?”
Pomni always felt humoured by how he kept up his charade of politeness side by side with his most venomous tones of voice.
“And how would I know?”
“You're married to him!”
“Doesn't mean I can keep tabs on him. If you've forgotten, it's the other way around. You're related to him, shouldn't you actually be able to know?” Pomni retorted. If there's one thing she always liked about this marriage, it had to be how she could speak back to Able, and was even encouraged to do it by Caine from time to time. Of course, she couldn't talk back to Caine himself, but small victories. It gave her a sense of satisfaction, having this all-powerful manchild grumble above her, knowing he could never break Caine's toy.
“Well yes, he should, but his inferior program prevents the same kind of strength in his abilities as myself.” Caine finally appeared, in all his glory, joining in a bit towards his brother's ribbing. Able looked upset enough to have smoke coming out of his ears.
Of course, he tried to stay calm in front of the other freaks, and thus did not lash out… for now.
“Took you long enough, brother. Why don't I explain what I am doing?”
Caine only motioned him to go on either the nod of his head.
“You performers have been working oh so very hard lately, I thought it only appropriate you should get a break!”
With a click of his fingers, a door appeared in front of the cast. It was oddly familiar to Pomni…
Oh.
“We're going to the Manor?”
Able glared at her momentarily for blurting it out. “Yes.”
“Guess you're lucky, shortstack. You live there. Visiting is our treat.” Jax spoke bitterly behind her. She was not ready for whatever mayhem he could cause in the place she had started to regard as… kind of a safe haven, despite Able's unwanted angry presence.
She didn't want to hear anything from Jax, to be honest. Or anyone else. She already knew they hated her for it.
Pomni briskly walked up to the door, opening it for the others and standing by so they could all pass through first.
Ragatha went through first, signing a quick thanks, with Kinger trailing behind her. Gangle and Aingle slipped through after, then Jax. Both Aingle and Jax held a hostile gaze towards her. Zooble waddled through next with manufactured indifference.
That just left Pomni to quietly walk through. This would be weird for her, and probably even for Caine.
She closed the door behind her.
The minute she walked through those doors, she felt at home. Not because of anything like the people, or how much time she's spent here. No- her attachment came from the falsehoods that she and Caine built, desperately stacked atop another in hopes they won't topple.
She took a deep breath in and gripped her ballerina skirt.
Or at least… she tried to.
Looking down at herself, she found that she had a flowing pastel pink and blue dress in place of her ballerina outfit. There was a yellow trim at the end of the dress, which stopped at her ankles. In the centre, it made way for a river of white with intricate pink and blue patterns. Her sleeves were much bigger, and so was the bow on her head, only noticed by the difference in weight she could feel from just slightly tilting it. A big yellow bow was centred on her chest, which had ruffled coloured collar leading up to it. It almost made her fit in with the extravagant Victorian decor.
Clearly she's not the only one, if the numerous gasps around her are any indication.
Unable to help herself, she took a moment to examine everyone else's new outfits.
Ragatha was wearing a lot of muted blues, with a double layered dress and a huge dark blue bonnet of sorts. Over her damaged eye was an eyepatch with a plus white symbol on it.
Jax looked… adorable? What with his crimson blazer and his pink-ish polka dotted shirt and striped trousers, he looked innocent and pure and totally non-threatening. It was a foreign feeling to herald toward Jax of all people.
Gangle and Aingle… they were separated. Tiny little spools of ribbons with big hats. Gangle had a giant red bow on her small cream-coloured poncho, whereas Aingle had no bow and a regular sized one.
Kinger had a simple waistcoat with a huge red bow tie, and a huge checkered purple coat with fluff on the edges.
Finally, Zooble wore a neat buttoned up waistcoat with separately coloured trousers. They also looked notably shorter, their upper right arm seeming to be replaced by a basic mannequin’s arm, likely for the best.
Everybody looked like they fit in with the Victorian style of both the regular performance grounds and the mansion. This was only helped by how cleaned up they all looked, scars seeming to have vanished like a bad dream.
“Alright, you are all able to free roam the manor. In a few hours time, I will call you all for an unforgettable feast. Behave.” Able jovially spoke to everyone before teleporting away from his position above them.
Caine, however, lingered. Staring down at the freaks as though they had offended him by just behind here, he crossed his legs and arms midair, watching them all.
It didn't take long for all of them to begin to wander- splitting off into groups of sorts. With a disgruntled Jax managing to drag Zooble along with him down some hallway, Ragatha, Kinger, Gangle and Aingle gravitated towards each other. Thus, she was left alone near where the door was (which had disappeared soon after she went through).
She was less curious and engaged with the environment, given her familiarity. This prevented her from feeling the same enthusiasm that the others did about this out of the blue break.
Surprisingly, Caine slowly drifted to Pomni's side, still watching the others, and she supposed that she was doing that now as well.
It was weird- usually, they'd be neck deep in some sort of weird romance plot- she'd be battling her eyelashes as he pretended not to see, before deciding that he'd ignored her enough and and came her way with a teasing lilt in his eyes. Or they'd be serenading in the middle of the room to some old, beautiful tune, sometimes with lyrics that left a lot to be desired.
But in the presence of everyone else, she's not sure if that'd be the best idea. In fact, she's dead certain that Caine would have her head on a stick if an embarrassing thing like that happened.
And so their routine in the manor is disrupted- in more ways than one.
Or so she thought.
After a few moments of listening to the idle chatter and exploration from the four freaks, with all but Aingle taking the time to analyse and move the decor, she heard a notable yet unobtrusive tap on the ground beside her. Sparing a glance to her side, she could see that Caine had significantly lowered in altitude. While he still remained off of the ground, he only floated a mere few inches above it, having allowed his cane to rest on the solid carpet.
He gave a fake paltry cough, before (almost awkwardly) dipping into a tone she had well acquainted herself with. “Our guests seem quite eager, don't they, my dear?”
Oh.
Oh.
Guess they were doing this after all.
Attempting to conceal her utter surprise at this, she schooled her expression into one of tranquillity and quiet joy, tinged with an artificial sense of humour and intimacy.
“Oh, absolutely, Ringmaster. They seem particularly fussy about the decor,” she notes.
“Hm, I suppose you're correct. But I'm not sure as to why.” Caine's head seemed to slightly face her, and a firm hand snaked around her waist before pulling her closer and making her mildly stumble. “At least, not when you're here.”
Despite the uncomfortable pins that outlined the space he's touching, Pomni blushed at the comment. It's fortunate just how easily she seems to turn red, as it helped with their act. A giggle escaped her mouth.
“But if they were focused on me, you'd have to share,” Pomni mentioned with a faux sadness, looking up at him.
“That's very true. And I do not like sharing my toys.” His face darkened momentarily, accompanied by the tensing of his arm and the near painful grip on her hip. Fortunately, he quickly cooled down- certain in his claim- loosening the bruising hold.
“As if anyone like them could deserve such a pristine and perfect doll like you.” It seemed to roll out of him as if it were natural. As if it were real. The way he slowly turned his head to fully face her, the way his other hand came and and leisurely but still forcefully moved her own head to directly face him at the same pace- it spoke of a deep connection. One that ran through their veins and computer-generated organs, wriggling into every crevice with the distinct love that these corrupted caricatures couldn't help but feel and be in.
Their eyes met, and Caine stared into Pomni's soul. Her own arms reached out, one gently caressing his lower jaw in an endearing hold, the other on his arm as she couldn't reach the jaw with both due to his own close positioning.
“You belong to me and only me, don't you, my doll?” Caine took the time to tuck a loose strand of hair away, wanting to see all of her face, completely unobstructed, because it's all his.
“Of course, Ringmaster. Nobody could compare.” It was at this moment that she realised just how close they were at this moment, faces mere inches from each other, as if…
It occurred to her that they had never truly kissed yet. And by they, she meant the characters. On cheeks and on gums, she knows that her face has practically been mapped by kisses (and a few nips here and there from when Caine felt like causing a bit of pain). But her lips have been left like some sign of purity. He's certainly thought about it, she knew that for certain. She's caught him looking intently at them as she spoke on numerous occasions, content to not mention it.
But today, it's as though they were being targeted. She knew where this was going.
“Nothing is as sweet as you. Like an irresistible delicacy, I must have you. If you'll let me have you?”
That was a trick question, because it wasn't a question at all.
“You've had me from the start,” grinned Pomni.
“Of course I did. I'd only pick the best. The kindest. The most radiant. The most gorgeous. The most-’
Bouts of embarrassed laughter coiled through her words as she tried to get them out, “C-Caine! You're too sweet, really!” Her face must be redder than spilt blood, expression love drunk.
Their faces only got closer and closer, and Caine tilted his head. Pomni did the same, leaning in for a kiss.
She could see it in his eyes: the desire. This would not be a quick peck from him, like his other kisses.
She closed her eyes, ready for whatever…
“WHAT?”
Caine and Pomni's eyes snap open, heads whipping in sync to the sound of the voice.
It was Aingle, bellowing across the room with a disgusted expression. “WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING?”
Oh shoot- she'd forgotten all about everyone else. It was like the world had fallen away, and the only people in it were her and Caine. As if the only thing that mattered in that moment was his smile, his joy, and his affections… clearly her acting had gotten way better, even to the extent of fooling herself.
Looking at the other's responses, Aingle, Gangle and Ragatha shared a look of revulsion and perplexion. While Kinger was there, he was staring aimlessly into space, not seeming to process the scene in front of him. She couldn't blame him.
Their eyes were all focused on their proximity, and every place where they were connected, as they went stock still at the realisation that they were being watched, leaving them still desperately wrapped around each other.
A hand on her hip, a hand encompassing her cheek. A gentle hand on his jaw, a desperate hand gripping his sleeve. Both bodies were nearly hugging, immensely close. They were a freezeframe of love, if one ignored their surprised expressions.
Narrowing his eyes, Caine spat back at Aingle with “None of your business. Your job isn't to question my personal affairs.”
At that, Aingle swiftly turns away, silently grumbling to herself.
Caine rolled his eyes, but gets interrupted once more by his little golden pocket watch buzzing. He lets go of her face in order to tend to it, keeping her close to him via the hold on her waist. He groaned at the sight of it.
“Seems I am needed, my love. We shall continue this… another time.” He levitated up, taking a moment to casually ruffle her hair before disappearing completely.
And that left Pomni alone again.
Well, not alone she supposed- just in a room with several other people ready to pick her brains about what on Earth just happened.
Ragatha rushed forward, expression having been alleviated to just puzzlement and worry. She dragged Kinger along with her. This spurred the sisters to come along as well, ending up with an arc of people in front of Pomni, all wanting answers.
“Are you okay?” Ragatha signed before beginning to examine her all over.
“Yes- yea- I'm, uh, I'm fine. I'm fine, I'm all good.” Pomni felt utterly embarrassed. How could she forget they were in public? Why did Caine initiate that in public? He's an AI, being forgetful and unobservant isn't in his nature. Did he do that on purpose, then?
“What was that, Pomni?” Gangle inquired, her porcelain face scrunching up with emotion. “It looked like he was about to kiss you.”
“Haha… yea… wow, wouldn't that be weird?”
“Pomni, why did he do that? He’s never done anything like that.” Kinger translated for Ragatha, whose signage had become too frantic for her to understand at all.
Pomni could only sigh. “It’s just… Caine. Caine being Caine. He likes feeling powerful, and since I’m always around him now, it’s become a- a bit of habit?” Her hands fidgeted with her collar as she took in Ragatha’s mildly horrified face, seeming more concerned about the implications than what is actually happening.
Letting her think this saved her embarrassment, so she wouldn't correct her.
Suddenly, Ragatha poked her side, and she tensed and stumbled back with a hiss. A bruise was definitely forming from his prior crushing grip. It wasn’t really that painful, it was more so the surprise. If there’s one thing she was thankful for, it was that Caine always went in very slowly when initiating affection, or really any kind of contact. It was a small mercy that let her brace herself as long as she noticed the signs that he wanted to interact.
Ragatha’s face looked piteous. Really, it was like she couldn’t decide whether or not to pity her or dismiss her enitirely, Pomni thought bitterly.
Thankfully, Kinger chimed in. “Where do you sleep? Since you stay here now.”
That’s much easier to deal with.
She smiled- genuinely- as she began to walk in the direction of her and Caine’s bedroom. “Just over here, it’s fairly nice.”
She just hoped that no one else would mention anything.
______________________________
After an uneventful rest of the day, they all returned to the stage.
The only notable thing she could point to would be dinner, where Ragatha made it a point to try and seat her as far away from Caine as possible. It was a nice gesture and all, but it ultimately shoved her next to Able, who sat on the very end of the table, mirroring Caine. Consequently, Caine used a large chunk of the meal to glare at Able and Ragatha, and stare longingly and frustratedly at Pomni. His fingers rhythmically thrummed against the table’s edge. It looked like he wanted to say something, but didn’t.
“I hope you all enjoyed your little break! I know my brother tends to work you all to the bone.” Able merrily bobbed in the air, seeming pleased with himself. “I will be off to tend to private matters now, have a good evening.” And with that, he teleported away, allowing Pomni to breathe a sigh of relief.
His hatred towards Pomni did not go over her head, and the moment he left allowed her to finally relax.
With Caine having to stay back in the mansion momentarily for some quick diagnostics checks, they were now left unsupervised.
Pomni took a deep breath in and out, nervously looking around for what the other would do or say.
Please don't say anything. Please don't say anything. Please do not say anything.
“So, Pomni…”
Fuck.
Aingle, now back to her regular size, slunk over and wrapped herself tightly around Pomni and brought her into the air. It felt constricting and painful. It felt like it was trying to pop her eyes out from her skull.
“What was all that? Why did you buddy up so much with him?” It practically sneered at her.
“L-let go!”
Only tightening the grasp, Aingle shuffled her ribbons to go over her waist and squeeze against the fresh bruise, causing her to emit a pained squeal. She was just kicking her legs in a feeble attempt to escape.
Fortunately, the ribbons suddenly seemed to completely dissipate, and she was only in free fall for a brief moment until an arm was held out to catch her from below. Said arm slammed straight into her stomach and caused her to cough intensely.
“All of you better listen very closely to me when I say this.”
A deep resounding voice echoed across the main room. It was difficult to tell if he was annoyed, tired, or excited as he spoke. One would have assumed he was fuming, but Pomni could practically feel the sense of soon-to-be satisfaction that was premeditatively radiating from his being.
He thrusted his arm upwards, propelling Pomni to his other supporting arm and then holding up her legs. Shockingly enough, he had transferred her into a bridal carry. Not for long, though, as he proceeded to float down and place her delicately on her own two feet before perching his jaw on her head and squashing the big bow underneath it.
“What I do with my property is none of your business. I own her. When I talk, she listens. When I move, she follows. I don't feel like entertaining your inane questions. This is the only thing you need to know:”
He put his hands against her neck.
It wasn't a painful or obtrusive press, more like a calm hover. Her bones shook with the feeling of his expectant gaze, and she figured out what he was looking for.
Usually, Pomni would respond to every bit of contact in kind, like a desperate housewife to a working man. She'd hold his hand on her shoulder, she'd press against a hand on her face, every touch was met with a reciprocating one asking to stay and giving permission to simply be, even if she didn't want to give it.
He was looking for her sign. And he would hate to be embarrassed in front of everyone.
Reluctantly, her hands came up to press his hands against her neck, making them both in full contact with each other. Her neck was so small that his hand ended up over each other, and it'd be just so easy for him to snap it off and throw it to the other freaks like meat to wolves. But if anything, he'd probably mount it above their bed like some kind of trophy, peppering the severed head with routine kisses.
She didn't really want to look at everyone else's expressions.
Zooble and Jax, having been absent from the room when they were first spotted, went from puzzled to utterly disgusted. A spot of pity might've even flashed on their faces, but neither truly cared enough.
Conversely, Ragatha and Gangle seemed horrified, with Ragatha holding her hands over her mouth.
Kinger seemed to just be full of pity, if anything at all.
And Aingle looked to be… frustrated.
“This is my pet. And I can do whatever I please with her, whenever.”
That's the last thing she saw- and heard- before he transported them back to the Manor.
As soon as her feet touched the carpeted floors, Caine took the liberty of spinning her around to face him, her entire body angled upward due to his insistence on floating. He placed a supporting hand on her spine and another at the back of her head.
“Now, where were we, my doll?”