Chapter Text
He was online, from the look of it. At least, he thought. Music was looping faintly all around him from the outside of the tent flaps. The flaps themselves were bright, colorful, encapsulating childlike whimsy like nothing he'd seen before. There was a wooden platform below his avatar's green garments, much like the one he was standing on in the press conference below his own green garments. There were tubes like those on play structures hanging above him, ones he was now too old for, and never got a chance to try when he was a child. This was a fun experience so far.
Then, in just an instant, it started feeling too...real. FAR too real. He wasn't anticipating the world to encapsulate any more senses than his sight and sound. He felt different air inside the tent, smelled the competing aromas of different confectionaries. Even the inside of his mouth tasted different. He ran his tongue along the backside of fangs he never realized he had. He felt the pads of his feet against the cool hardwood floor, rather than the insides of his shoes. For a minute or two, it felt like, he couldn't even feel his heartbeat anymore.
Wait a minute. Did he remember what it felt like between putting the headset on and getting this feeling? Did he pass out? Did he die?
He probably did. The bright, overstimulating, contrasting colors began to spiral around his head as he tugged against the sides of his head to try to get the headset off. He dug further and further into his own head to try to remember anything about what happened.
Nothing.
Not even his own name. If anything, he could only remember, "young Master," and "His Royal Majesty." But those weren't his name. It was something, but...
He was dead.
"Oh, no."
As it and the tauntingly jovial Purgatory sank in further for him, and every pain and worry of his kept flooding back into his memory, he began to sink to the floor. His heartbeat suddenly returned, pumping faster than it had in years. He brought his hands to his chest, pressing, squeezing his eyes shut to keep tears on the other side. If there ever was a time to cry, now would be it, but he also didn't want to chance it in case the Saviour had a problem with how he had gone about the end of his life.
"Is that a new human?"
"Looks like it. Poor thing."
The "new human" tried breathing, but he found himself choking. Soon, a whine slipped from vocal cords that he wasn't even sure were there anymore.
The feminine voice pitying him sounded closer now. Sounded...he didn't even know anymore.
"Do you need help getting up?"
"I'm in Hell!" he blubbered out like an idiot, "I'm in Hell!"
Before he knew it, he felt as though he were being enveloped into the kind of embrace he'd have imagined welcoming him into Heaven. Reflexively, he cried out and hugged the large figure back as she rubbed his back and squeezed him in, not thinking ahead that he should be diligent.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he cried, "Just give me one more chance!"
His sobs weren't met with an answer at first. Then, she answered, "A chance for what?"
There was something about the way she was speaking to him that seemed so different. Not like what he was used to. Even his appointed carers spoke to him in ways so soothing only so often. He gathered the courage to open his eyes.
His vision swam until he tilted his head up. Then tears spilled from what he realized were lenses of glasses on his face. He never needed glasses before. Beyond those lenses was the fur trim of what looked to be a royal robe. Rather cartoonish. Satan was revealing himself to be an especially cruel beast. Even still...there was an element of comfort still here. He tried to resist the Devil's temptation. The greatest trick he ever played was convincing poor God-lovers that they were in Heaven.
"Queenie?" the male voice came closer now, "Are they alright?"
"Hardly. He thinks he's dead."
He heard the two of them whisper, felt another hand against his shoulder.
"No, you're not dead," the man assured him, "You're just here. In the circus."
"Umm," Queenie trailed off. Then, she started singing, with a crack of hesitation, what sounded like an American lullaby, "'Hush you bye, Don't you cry-'"
He flinched, making the man bend down and wrap invisible arms around him and Queenie.
"I don't think he's that young," the man chuckled, though the same softness in his voice was still there.
"I don't know what to do, Kinger," Queenie quipped, chuckling back before she continued singing, "'When you wake, you shall have / All the pretty lit-tle h-'"
"WELL, A ROOTILY-TOOT TOOT!"
A booming voice suddenly overpowered Kinger and Queenie's hushed tones. The new one peered over one of the arms of his glasses to see him.
He was a pair of teeth with eyes inside, glowering at him. Any sense of calm that had washed over him once again evaporated. He found his soul shrinking into the centre of his husk, a horrifying feeling he'd never experienced before. If he wasn't already dead now, he acutely feared the shock might have killed him. He fought it as hard as possible to stay present.
"Is this a new human I see?" the dentures asked, "WHAT an excitement! It was getting mighty lonesome with just Kinger and Queenie around."
"Y-yeah," Kinger approached the floating character, "He just spawned in about a minute ago."
In this brief moment of quiet, he gathered the courage to really study Kinger. He was VERY tall, much moreso compared to his body. He was not a human after all; he was a giant white king, like he would see when he played chess with his governess. He, like Queenie, was wearing a fur-trimmed royal robe, in purple. His eyes bulged only a bit disturbinly and unevenly across his face.
"Oh, my!" the teeth exclaimed, holding either side of his dentures head with clear, exaggerated shock, "That means he hasn't picked out his NAME yet!" Upon saying the stressed word, "name," he popped further up into the air and twirled his cane before pointing it in the new one's direction. "What'll it be, my fine fellow?"
He froze. He reached further and further into himself, a bit more deliberately this time, in search of the name his parents gave him. That would be easiest, right? Somehow, Kinger took notice of his silence and turned back toward him.
"Ah, Caine here prefers for everyone to have a new name when they get here."
He thought for a bit on a new name, but...
"My birth name is the one name I have. I'm sorry, er, Caine."
Caine seemed to deflated into his teeth. The boy fought the urge to call out for him, but, thankfully, his eyes reappeared, a smile evident in the bridge of his mouth. "That's fine. You may have, say... five-point-seven minutes to deliberate on that name. And then, I can take you on your VERY FIRST ADVENTURE!"
A musical fanfare came out of nowhere, and the word ADVENTURE shone over Caine in bold, shining, gold font. In spite of all these changes, a part of the new one felt intrigued. Adventures. Maybe this would be worth his while. Wait, was this what temptation looked like?
"Now, Caine," Queenie interjected, "he seems like he's having trouble adjusting-"
Caine spawned again, right in front of the two of them, startling the new one. "Well, that works out wonderfully! I'll give him my grandest adventure to make the best impression!"
"He seems pretty young, Caine-" Kinger attempted to say himself before likewise getting cut off.
"Oh, right." He was willing to accommodate him, maybe? "How old are you?"
"F-fourteen?"
"WOWIE-ZOWIE!!" Caine kicked his feet with excitement. An anthropomorphic bubble with sharp teeth floated into view. "Did you hear that, Bubble? We FINALLY have someone close to our target demographic here!"
"Shut-Ins?" Bubble asked.
"N-no. Children! It's my greatest dream to make THE AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS a wonderful place for everyone of all ages!"
Queenie gripped onto the boy's shoulder.
"So, young lad, turn that frown upside down and dry-" Caine trailed off as Bubble came close and booped his nose WITH HIS TONGUE. The moist feeling lingered for too long before stopping on its own. "-those eyes. I'll see you in five-point-seven!"
Both he and Bubble were gone before he knew it. A few moments of silence passed between the three left: Kinger, Queenie, and himself.
Purgatory was much more mundane than he was anticipating. More whimsical. But he needed to see if there was a chance for him.