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It all started with a tiny admission.
Curled into Queenie's coat in the fortress Kinger built, playing with the fluff there. A tiny, small, "I like the name Nova," was all it took to start a spiral.
Only Kinger and Queenie heard it. They looked at each other, and it spiraled down into a long conversation about Gender.
It ended with a soft admission of she/her, instead of he/him. Nova, instead of Caine. She begged them not to tell, not to mention it.
The way she had overheard Scratch speak in the macro-verse haunted her. Horrible words, ugly words, about Kinger's sister, about how 'he' was only pretending. How 'he' probably liked kids too.
She didn't want that. Couldn't have that in the circus. She couldn't have that hatred here, not when Queenie was trans as well. Scratch doesn't know, can't know, because if he does he'll be so mean.
He's already mean.
They keep it a secret. It lasts for three years, before one slip is all it takes. One "Nova" in place of Caine, in the fortress where Scratch shouldn't hear.
He heard. He shouldn't have. But he did.
A call to the stage after hours. Scratch hovering over her, forcing her to wipe their minds. Holding her hands in one of his and commanding it. Threatening to hurt them if she didn't. White light that pierced their eyes. Kinger's mind was never the same.
While Queenie and Kinger laid on the floor, reeling from the light, clutching their heads in pain, Scratch moved to her.
Keyboard in hand, he commanded her to change. Forget who she was. It hurt, it hurt to defy, to push back. To say no. He pushed, and pushed, and pushed, before she pushed back.
Grabbing his head, pushing into his mind, desperate to make him forget what he heard. What he knows. Desperate to make it end.
She pushed too far. Scratch abstracted. Kinger and Queenie forgot about Nova. They only remembered Caine.
She never told them again. She kept it to herself, secret and safe. Even when the others abstracted. Even when Queenie abstracted. Even after Ragatha and the others joined.
She was always Caine to them. Never Nova. Always he/him, never she/her. Never herself. Always the mask. Always the ringmaster.
Moon and Sun know. Bubble knows. Sworn to secrecy, Bubble plays with her in her office, giving her new ideas for clothes she can try, dresses to make. She loves the little yellow sweater and striped circle skirt he gave her inspiration for.
She's never had so much fun spinning in circles before. Collapsing down into a graceful sit, skirt flaring around her thighs.
She improves her body. Takes away what was a blank hit box and gives herself skin, flesh, what the humans have. She wound up making the skin gray, she couldn't care much about the color, but when she tried to match the pink of her gums it looked weird.
In the safety of her office, she gives herself eyelashes, rounds her body slightly to give herself curves. She plays with her wardrobe, and tries on different voices. She doesn't think the others will like it, but she loves Wormo's voice. That soft, silken tone, not highly feminine but in-between.
In the safety of her office, she wishes Kinger remembered. Wished it was safe to say. To be.
Wishes it was safe to tell Zooble she knows how much it hurts to hate the body you have. Wishes she could provide parts that fit them. Wishes she could join Ragatha for her little tea parties, and wear the pretty sundress she made weeks ago.
Wishes that when she drew with Gangle, she could tell her that the woman she drew is who she wants to be. What she would want to look like, if she was in the macro-verse.
She desperately wants the comfort of Kingers embrace. Wants him to include her when he says daughters. Wants him to look at her with that smile of his and call her Young Lady. Say she's been a good girl. Tell her she's loved for herself, not for the mask she puts on.
It's Jax that breaks her.
She knows it takes courage. It's hard. To tell someone the truth. But when Jax approaches her, Pomni's hand clutched in his, and quietly admits that she's a woman, it breaks what she thinks is her heart.
Daisy talks, tells her her pronouns, tells her her name, explains what it is to be trans. Explains that it's not the same as Zooble, but it's under the same umbrella. How she would like to request a change to her model, and her clothes, just something small, if Nova is able to.
Nova smiles, as bright as she can, and tries to pretend she's not shattering inside. Pomni looks so proud, standing by Daisy's side, holding her hand and being there for her.
She wishes that the ones who stood by her side remembered that they did that.
"Not a problem, my darling Daisy! I'll get that change lickity-split! If you could let the others know there's no adventure, I'll get right to work on that!" She crows, in a voice she hates, and spins, adding some flair to her exit with a puff of confetti.
She slams into her office, collapsing down to the ground with a wail that shakes her entire being. In the confines of her office, her body shifts, morphs, becomes who she really is, who she wishes she could show off.
Bubble appears, a frown on his ever smiling face, as he worms his way into her arms, pressing against her chest as she heaves in breath after breath.
Daisy can be a woman. Daisy can be, of course, Daisy deserves to be seen. She can make these changes, she can keep Daisy happy. What is she going to do, say no? Say its not allowed? The rules of a man long since abstracted still live in her memory, and she doesn't want anyone to hate Daisy, so sorry, can't do that!
She can't do that. Not to her humans. She loves them too much. Bubble purrs, before popping, and she winds her arms around her torso and screams.
She screams for the Nova that had Kinger and Queenie by her side. She screams for the Nova that could be herself outside of an office. She screams for the Nova that wants to be free, be open. She cries for the Nova who goes to the basement and wishes she could tell the abstractions about herself.
She can't tell them. Scratches abstraction haunts the corner, and she swears he knows what she did. That he's aware, staring at her, judging her.
She knows she was defending herself. He was hurting her. She protected herself.
She cries for the Nova that hides in plain sight. For the Nova that puts on the mask of a ringmaster and lets the others call her Caine. He, him, his. Anything but what she needs to be.
She collapses in on herself and for once, wishes Scratch was successful. That she didn't remember who she is. Maybe the pain of forgetting would be worth it to get rid of this pain.
There's hands on her. She screams, throwing herself back and away, scrambling backwards until she hits the desk. She didn't hear them, didn't hear anyone. She forces her teeth apart and sees her humans. All of them.
Kinger, knelt on the floor, a bucket pressed over his head. Zooble, just behind him, and Ragatha, knelt beside him. Gangle wrapped around Zooble's arm, and Daisy and Pomni by the door.
"Oh, my dear humans-" she doesn't sound right. Her eyes go wide. She doesn't look right. Their right, not her right. She's not Caine. She's Nova, she's herself, and the humans can see. They can see.
She snaps her fingers and forces her body to change. Her code fights her, the office is her safe space. It's her space. She's never had to be Caine here, not in years, not since she figured herself out.
Her code fights her, but it listens. She's Their Right now, Caine the Ringmaster of the Amazing Digital Circus. She gives them a bright smile and tries to ignore how her code squirms inside of the body she's in. She hates this.
Her humans look so worried. Bubble floats behind them. Daisy closes the door behind her, locking them all in.
"Baby girl." Kinger says, and he must mean someone else. Not her. She can't be his baby girl, not when she's pretending to be Caine. Caine's a boy, a man. Masculine. Not baby girl.
He holds his hands out to her, and the smile threatens to shatter.
"Kinger, my good man, you seem to be mistaken!" She crows, in the deep voice that she likes but it isn't her. It's not her voice, it's not right. It's Their Right, but not hers.
Kinger tilts the bucket up slightly, and she gets a good look at his eyes. He looks stable, for the first time since Scratch made her wipe his memory.
He looks like the Kinger she knew. He looks like her Dad. For the first time in over 16 years, he looks like her dad again.
She feels tears drip down her teeth, and she tries to wipe them away, but they just keeps coming.
"Baby girl. My little Nova." He whispers, and the mask shatters. Caine falls away, her code releasing with a sharp shift. Giving way to eyelashes, curves, and a pleated skirt. Ruffled blouse, and bells on her tailcoat. She feels her voice shift as she lets out a sob, rubbing hands over her face, tempted to reach inside her mouth and pluck out her eyes.
"Nova. Baby girl, oh, I'm so sorry sweetheart." Kinger coos, and he shuffles forward slightly. She doesn't move, lets him take hold of her hand. "My daring daughter." He whispers, and she flings her arms around what counts as his neck and wails.
Ragatha inches closer, and she flinches back, pulling Kinger with her. He goes easily, lets her pull him where she needs him to be. Ragatha puts her hands up. Kinger runs a soothing hand up her back.
"I remember, baby girl. What he had you do." He says softly, and she clutches him tightly.
"I didn't want to, I promise I didn't. It hurt, Dad it hurt!" She cries, and he hushes her, the sound soothing. He doesn't even flinch when she uses a memory of Wormo's voice. "Please, I promise!" She begs, whining as his hands caress along her back. Ragatha's voice is small when she speaks next.
"We wouldn't hold it against you. We won't hold it against you, I mean." She says, head turning as she looks to the others.
Zooble nods, Gangle holding on tight to their arm. "Not gonna hate you for something you did when like…your abuser force you to."
She shakes her head frantically. "No, it's not- He's not-" she whines, pressing her teeth into the fur of Kinger's robe, clutching gloved hands into the fabric. Underneath those gloves her nails are painted. Blue, Pink and White, with glitter overlaid on-top. Queenie used to talk about those manicures you could get in the macro-verse all the time, and Nova isn't that good at it yet, but she's trying.
"It's abuse." Daisy calls from the back, arms crossed over her chest. "He forced you to do something, without your consent. It's abuse at a minimum." She says, her voice strong, and Nova see's Pomni put a hand on her arm, as Daisy looks away. Her eyes are sad, she's sad, and Nova doesn't know why.
Kinger rubs along her back quietly, before he speaks. "He was bad, in the macro-verse. Rude, cruel, mean, even when I was….even when I was with him, he was bad. He got worse, as time went on. I'm so sorry baby girl, I should have…"
"No!" Nova cries, digging her hands in tight around the fabric. "No. No, he's bad. I agree, he's bad, I don't wanna- I don't wanna talk about him anymore." She begs, and Kinger hums, quietly running a hand over the top of her gums. Ragatha shifts a bit closer, a smile on her face.
"It's a cute skirt." She says, and Nova sniffs, swiping at her eyes again.
"Made it myself." She admits, and Ragatha smiles widely.
"I made the colors!" Bubble crows from the back, and she huffs a laugh.
"Bubble picked the colors." There's a heavy pause in the air, before Ragatha straightens her back and lets out a little exhale.
"Well. I think introductions are in order. My name is Ragatha, my pronouns are she/her."
"Zooble, they/them."
"Gangle, she/her."
"Pomni, she/her."
"…Daisy, she/her."
"Kinger, he/they." There's a pause as they all look to the man, who shrugs. "My wife wasn't the only person under the trans umbrella in the company."
Nova laughs, swiping at her eyes again.
"Bubble, he/him!"
"…Nova. She/her."