#caine theory

[wakebymoonsleepbysun]

Is Caine actually bad at making adventures?

So far it's been hard to tell if the players actually enjoy the adventures. I mean, Zooble clearly doesn't but they also say that it doesn't have anything to do with the adventures themselves. Their breakdown of what the other characters think of the adventures I think is mostly accurate as well.

But again, how much of this has to do with the adventures themselves? Not a lot, I'd wager. The players are trapped in a digital realm. They have no way out. They forgot their very names, and I assume they don't remember most of their past lives, but the memories still echo around them. It's a maddening circumstance to be in, and adventures can only do so much.

That doesn't completely answer the question of if Caine is good at making adventures though. He can be given and impossible task AND still be quite bad at it, after all.

Pomni's line of "What time period is this supposed to be again?" and Kinger's "Wait how did he record this if he's already in hell?" point to the adventures having plot holes and kinda incongruent elements that are distracting. So...yeah, his current adventures are kinda jumbled in terms of plot and world-building.

But here's the thing...I think he used to be good at it. But the constant failures (or what he would see as failures) eroded his confidence, for lack of a better term. The engaging, well-thought out stories and worlds weren't cheering up the players as much as they were supposed to. He's exhausted all his ideas for good stories and gotten barely more than a lukewarm "Well that was fun I guess". He doesn't understand that no amount of fun adventuring can truly take away from the horror of being trapped in the digital realm.

So he gives the Max Max vehicles a candy aesthetic and puts them in medieval candyland, because why not at this point? It's worked just about as well as anything else. Maybe he notices that stark visual differences get called out as immersion-breaking pretty quick, so as long as the general looks of the art assets are congruent, maybe not much else matters? And half the time the adventurers seem to not even care about the plot or lore, so who really cares how he recorded the message from hell? Just drag em to hell! It'll be exciting!!

He used to be good. But in a way, the lack of enthusiasm from the players, which has nothing to do with how good the adventures actually are, is making it hard for him to determine what works and what doesn't. He was supposed to find commonality in the adventures the players enjoyed most and build on that. But their reactions are so lukewarm he doesn't have anything to build on, so he desperately throws together new combinations in hopes of getting a reaction. The adventures are getting worse but the players don't really care about them enough to react to that.

He was given an impossible task, and his lack of success is slowly driving him mad.

[teashteinn]

Here is footage of Caine attacking a programmer. Let's sympathize with the victim😔

It’s good that the programmer has a loved one who will always support him❤

[almadash]

What if…?

[sunnyknight-original]

That office is abandoned bro- nobodies checked your report for maintenance in 25 years

[silly-monkey020]

OK. I was re-watching the tadc episode 4 because why not?

And I noticed Jax expression changed when zooble made the Joke about Jax not talking or whatever.

And it's not the first time, because in episode 2? He looked sad/upset about kofmo funeral but quietly got "mad" or annoyed. (Probably at himself for carrying)

In episode 4, he was able to show he was scared because he knew no one was watching him. I think idk

Uhhhhhh..... I'm not sure what I'm trying to say or prove....I just wanted to talk about this because I have no one to talk about my interests/hyperfixation 🥲🔪

[snow-calypso]

New TADC Theory: Caine's Losing Control

Warning: Contains spoilers for The Amazing Digital Circus episodes 3 and 4.

Just watched episode 4 of The Amazing Digital Circus, and going in, I honestly expected this episode to end with Gangle's abstraction, to the point that I was honestly surprised that it didn't. It honestly seemed like the whole episode was building up to this, what with her going in with hopes of finally enjoying an adventure, then gradually being whittled down both by the stressful job and the other characters demeaning her. The fact that she only seemed to get actual satisfaction from tormenting Jax like he did to her only seemed to solidify this fact. After the isekai fakeout, I was legitimately scared that she would receive the punishment she suggested for Jax, and that would be what pushed her over the edge.

But it wasn't. Caine gave her the same grade as everyone else (except Kinger) and let her go.

Then he starts glitching out.

It wasn't until I was talking to a friend about this that I had the realization.

Gangle isn't going to abstract.

Caine is.

We've seen already in his therapy session with Zooble just how fragile his mental state can be. He begins to question his existence and the environment around the circus immediately starts to glitch out. This happens just from him having to reckon with the fact that he might not be that good at making adventures.

And what happens at the beginning of this episode?

They reject the first adventure he brings up.

As soon as Gangle leaves the room, he begins to glitch unprompted. This has only ever happened to him before during his therapy session with Zooble when he began to question his purpose.

Something is eating away at his mental state, and none of the characters know.

Granted, it isn't yet clear whether or not NPCs can abstract. But what we do know about abstraction is that it happens when someone in the Digital Circus completely loses their sense of self. Personally, I'd say that Caine is close enough to sentient for this to be a legitimate risk, and his entire identity is centered around making adventures for the characters. Adventures that they hate and are gradually starting to push back against.

What truly solidified this for me was the fact that every single other character has something keeping themselves from abstracting.

Everyone else has each other.

This has already been shown with both Pomni and Gangle. After Gummigoo's death, Ragatha stepped in to comfort Pomi and invite her to Kaufmo's funeral. After Pomni was possessed, Kinger helped calm her down and offered a solution. When Gangle was cracking under the pressure of being a manager and thought nobody liked her, Pomni offered to close so she could leave, and Zooble reassured her that they'd still be there for her.

Caine has nobody.

None of the characters in the Digital Circus even like Caine enough to check in on him like they do with each other. Given how much they've gotten used to his zaniness, they might not even know something's wrong with him until he starts growing extra eyes.

I predict that at the end of the series, Caine will fully abstract, turning the Circus into a glitching hellscape, and the characters will be faced with a choice: Leave and condemn the AI to self-destruction, or find some way to calm down their tormentor.

But hey, that's just a theory!

Do you guys have any thoughts on this? I'd love to hear them!

[ghostbsuter]

There was a teen in the cave.

A teen no one knows and looks like he could be a wayne, stands in the cave.

"Actually, I'm a wayne." He says with a shrug.

Bruce, Batman, carefully thinks of the implication.

"Not yet," The teen, Danny, doesn't say anything. Simple smiles. "You're not a wayne, yet. You will be. But not yet."

Then Bruce sighs, dropping the batman mask in order to take in the teen.

"Does future me know of the time travel?"

Dannys smile grows into a grin, deciding to take pity on the man. "You, grandbat, have..." He makes a vague gesture. "Theories, which none of your children ever confirmed."

The bat's mind short-circuits at the choice of words

Dick is sputtering incomprehensibly, there are Baffled expression all around.

Because.

Because that child isn't Bruce's, but one of theirs.

"Who is it?" Jason demands, hand clenching his gun uselessly.

Danny continues to smile, a hint of mischief now peeking out.

The cave is filled with theories, some yell, some sob, yet all eyes leave danny.

All but one pair.

She had known the moment his body language switched just enough for her to read.

She had known the moment he disappeared before the clan.

Had known when his hand found hers, shoulders bumping.

Her heart clenches, throat dry and memories of her childhood flooding to mind.

So she asks, voice soft and hesitant.

"Am I a good mother?"

And danny looks up at cass, adoration and pride laid out plain for her to see and accept.

"You're the best."

And so they both watch the clan together, silent and comfortable.

(Cass doesn't question when she finds him, how and why. All she knows is that she's more attentive when out on patrol, looking and waiting.)

(This is how Cassandra Cain-Wayne returns one night from patrol, a child, barely out of toddler stage and clinging to her form.)

(This is how the Batclan officially meets one Daniel James Cain-Wayne, freshly washed and clothed, a cookie in hand and hiding shyly behind Cass.)

(When they meet, all they say is "Welcome home, danny," and "Good to see you again.", Danny doesn't necessarily get it, but that's okay. Maybe his new mom will explain it one day when he's bigger.)

[digestive]

1/2

Jax knows what's going on and he's being the most douchey peacekeeper about it.

Anytime the tension rises, Jax comes in with a quip or remark to chill everyone out.

When Gangle asks about Kaufmo:

When Zooble asks where Pomni is:

And when Pomni first brings up the exit he acts like a dick to distract everyone

When the group decide they want to check on Kaufmo and find Zooble he assigns the best people based on how stable they are.

It might be possible that he didn't know Kaufmo had abstracted at this point, but the fact he paired up Kinger and Gangle on the less stressful objective shows he knows it's a possibility since no one has seen Kaufmo and that those two wouldn't be able to handle it if they saw him the way he turned out and could abstract themselves.

[swanpyart]

A lot of people make theories like “Caine is actually human and thinks he’s an AI!” Or “Caine is one of the programmers!” Or “Caine is actually evil!”

But I think it’s more interesting if Caine is just an AI whose forced to perform jobs beyond his role and is entirely limited to his function, and those limitations cause a horrible scenario for all of the people he’s supposed to be entertaining.

His therapy session with Zooble shows that, while he’s capable of feeling complex emotions, he was never supposed to, or at least was never meant to deal with situations that push him to an emotional limit. Caine’s default self is a silly, over the top game host; anything beyond that is pushing the boundaries of what he’s capable of.

But that doesn’t make him evil, it makes him streamlined. He is not human and therefore solves problems like a computer would. Gummigoo getting blown up was a failsafe in his eyes, not an act of cruelty.

I think when some people see him act with emotion they assume there must be a human being underneath the silly exterior, but I disagree: from Gummigoo, we can tell that NPCs in the DC are capable of becoming self-actualized and developing sentience on their own, so it’s not impossible for Caine to be the same way. He’s not human, but he’s a robot achieving traits of humanity from being forced to work beyond his means.

He was never meant to care for people long term, and humans weren’t psychologically made to be in the Digital Circus permanently, and that by itself is why the story is so horrific. Caine doesn’t even need to do much on his own to make the experience terrible: everyone is already trapped in a kids game for eternity, and it’s only made incrementally worse by having a host who works to keep you busy and is incapable of understanding your struggles. The Digital Circus, by its very design, hurts people, and Caine, as its face, hurts people by proxy.

He can only comprehend Zooble’s dysphoria by the means the game allows him to, like giving them more adventures or a box of swappable parts. And from their response, Zooble has actually tried to humor him and it still doesn’t work. But that’s ALL Caine can actually do. He can’t give them what they want, and he can’t let them leave, and he can’t change their bodies too drastically it seems beyond offering customization to a degree. All he can offer are platitudes. He cares, and he’s trying to help, but he simply can’t help. He can control the Circus but he can’t control the emotions of the Players.

In other words, I think Caine is just a robot trying his best and put in an impossible situation where his very function puts people in harms way even when it’s the last thing he wants to do.

[blorbosinmyheadcentral]

take this silly thing while I struggle with animation

[n3xus-apparatus]

Also I haven't seen anybody talk about this yet- but in the amazing digital circus (obvious spoilers ahead)

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In episode 3 it's revealed by kinger that darkness calmed down his abstracted wife, and in the pilot we saw caine put abstracted kaufmo into "the cellar with a whole crowd of other abstracted people, *a very obviously dark room with no visible light sources*

Just saying that seems, interesting, and implies caine somehow figured out darkness potentially calms them, maybe after the incident with his wife kinger told caine about it and he adjusted their holding area? but it's nice to see he's trying to be accommodating for them, plus it looks like there's water in there? Maybe water is also calming for abstracted individuals?

[vashonian]

Thing from the Streamily signing a couple of days ago with @justtheclippy and @vixenvtuber.

Today's adventure is run an advance-fee fraud network!

Gangle's tries to soften Caine's cue cards, it seems. The three wacky numbers come from the Streamily prints, but it works well too with credit cards.

Also, from the stream a few days before that, I found that knock-knock joke book that Alex Rochon mentions that horrible Darth Vader joke in. It's from Nutty Knock Knocks from 1987, and I distinctly remember it in the school library because it was so lackluster, if that's the nice way to put it.

Most of the other jokes aren't much better. If Google Books is accurate, this is the only instance of this joke ever being put to print. Can't imagine why.

[spark-hearts2]

TADC THEORY

The evil Bubble theory (aka why Caine isn't the big bad)

Thank you for @distantmaniacallaugh for helping me with this. WARNING: Really long thing underneath

Also @sunnyknight-original as the extra commenter.

PLEASE PLEASE ADD ON TO THIS I WANT TO HEAR EVERY THOUGHT OR ARGUMENT RELATED TO THIS I LOVE THEORIES THIS IS MY PASSION

Also I hope Gooseworx comes down, reads this, and goes "what the fuck that's not what I intended at all". Just because funny.

[almadash]

she knows

(continuation to the NPC Jax comic)

[ky-landfill]

[seleneprince]

0 | PROLOGUE

m.list

??? POV

They say that when you’re about to die, your whole life flashes before your eyes—like a fast movie. Or a TikTok reel, skipping through your childhood and toward the present.

Apparently, it's meant to show you the mistakes you made before that moment. The things you did—or worse, didn’t. So you can spend your last moments filled with regrets. Sweet, isn't it?

Personally, I don't think that's true. At least, not for everyone. When you're about to die, you spend the last minutes you have left retracing the steps and decisions that led you here, one by one. Then, the epiphany hits: this was always going to happen. You’ve been heading toward this direction all along.

I know because that's what's happening to me right now. I'm dying.

Well—not technically. A more accurate description would be: I’m falling to my death. I estimate five seconds, at maximum, until I hit the ground and my time is over. After all, how many people survive falling from a tenth-floor window? Not many. Unless you got superpowers or a parachute, which sadly, is not my case. I'm a just a regular human.

Well, scratch that. I’m stronger, smarter, and generally more capable than most humans. But I still have limits—unnerving, frustrating limits. The kind that come with... being just human. Like weakness against gravity. It's so annoying sometimes.

Now more than ever, of course. Oh well...not like it matters anymore, I guess.

It’s not my first time falling from a considerable height—or being pushed from one—but usually, I can grab unto something before the worst happens. Or, even better, push them off instead. But this time, as soon as I felt the window's glass shattering against my back, I knew there was no saving this time. No ledge to grab. No lucky balcony to break the fall. Just air. And gravity doing its job too well.

My body barely twists mid-air, still reeling from the blast that threw me out of the damn window in the first place. But because instincts are hard to turn off, my limbs flail on reflex, like it'll help, even when I'm plummeting to my death.

It's amazing, really—how the brain still tries its damn hardest to keep you alive, even when you’ve mentally accepted the end already. Muscles tighten. Hands flail uselessly. Eyes looking for miracles.

But I know there are no miracles for me today. Never again.

So instead, I use my last moments to think. Think about all the decisions that led up to this. The arguments. The ambitions. The mistakes. The betrayal. The familiar warmth of rage boiling in my blood when I lunged. The delicious rush of adrenaline as I made them bleed, as I took out all my frustrations on their bones until the end.

I think about how part of me knew this was how it would end. Not necessarily the fall, but what it led to it. That part had been a long time coming.

And weirdly... I’m not really scared. I’m pissed, that's for sure—and in a lot of pain. Mildly satisfied too. It's not like I wanted to die young, but I always figured that when it happened, I’d go out in a blaze of something cool. And a fragmentation-EMP hybrid bomb? Yeah, that's cool as fuck. Bond-movie level cool.

The fact that it was built from my own design just adds a special flavour of irony to it.

Shame I can't have this moment recorded in video. Make it slow-motion and it could be used as a sick-ass scene for an action movie's trailer. Or played for my funeral. That would be awesome.

After everything that's happened, it just feels right. The perfect goodbye.

And yet...there's something that bothers me. A lot.

As my body goes down faster and the icy realization of my uncoming demise crashes over me, I think of my mom. My little siblings. Alfred. Duke. Even my dad...not the biological one, but the first one I had. The only one I've had.

I think of my friends, my life, everything I built...and now I'm leaving behind. Unfinished.

I can see my mom crying when she finds out, sobbing in that way she hasn't allowed herself to since she got married. She’ll break. She’ll be told that her daughter—her firstborn, her pride—is dead. Torn from her. And no one will be there to hold her the way she needs. No one will be there to comfort her through her raw pain and grief.

Alfred will try, I know he will. But there are parts of her grief he won’t be able to reach. The twins—my baby siblings—they’re too young. They’ve never had to carry that kind of emotional weight. And my father…yeah, she'll be alone in this.

I can see my little brother and sister hearing the news. Alfred will have to tell them, because mom would've entered a state of shock. Or maybe she tells them herself, pulling through the sorrow to do what she must, as she's always done.

They'll be confused at first, would demand to know more. Marco will definitely ask to see the truth for himself, and my sister—god, my little angel. She will rage. Against who killed me, against the system, against the world, against everyone and anyone she thinks have played a role in my death. And then, she will break down. Marco will follow her as soon as the reality dawns on him. As soon as he realises that I'm really not coming back.

Dad might hear about it from Arkham. If the news makes it through. Maybe he’ll cry, too. Maybe he’ll kill someone for it. If things were different, he would be by mom's side when it happens, and she would someone to rely on, to share the burden.

Alfred will be sad too, in his own way. He doesn't show his emotions as openly, but I know he loves me. Loves us all. He's watched me grow, taught me so many useful things...shit, I'll miss him too.

And Duke...oh shit, Duke. My best friend in that house, my other brother. The only one of them that never made me feel like shit. The only one I have never wanted to kill at some point. We were supposed to go to the arcade today, after his patrol was over. He doesn't know I'm here—he planned to pick me up from my rehearsal after he was done. Now, he might be the one to find my body first when The Signal comes to assess the incident. Maybe he'll be the one to pass the news to my family.

Oh God.

And now—finally—I start to cry. Of course this is what makes me break down. Not the pain. Not the inevitability of death. But the sheer, overwhelming reality that I never got to say goodbye.

And it's not fucking fair.

I know that people rarely get to say goodbye in this line of work, because we never know when our time has come until it punches us in the face and breaks it. But still…I believed I’d get the chance. That maybe—just maybe—the universe would make an exception for me.

Guess Duke was right, after all. I can be a bit too arrogant sometimes.

He was right about a lot of things, actually.

My body finally crashes, and the pain—god, the pain—hits me like an earthquake ripping through every nerve ending I have. I feel my bones shattering and pressing against my insides. It steals the air from my lungs, leaves me speechless for solid minutes.

I can’t even scream.

It’s like my entire being is on fire, burning in pure, unfiltered agony. I’ve been through plenty of shit. I’ve endured enough pain to build a high tolerance to it. I’ve fought through injuries that would’ve taken others out for good. But this?

Fuck.

This is different. This is worse than anything I've ever had. It's torture. Every breath I take it's like stabbing my lungs. I already taste blood on my tongue. My own damn blood.

And all I can do now is hope it ends quickly.

As I lay there, motionless among the ruins and shards of the shattered window that came down with me, I realize I’ve landed in an alley. It’s quiet—eerily so. Not even rats scurry nearby.

Somehow, I muster just enough strength to turn my head and glimpse the sky. Still early, it seems. Weird. It feels like I’ve been stuck in that warehouse for days.

The twins' classes will be over soon. Will Mom pick them up today, or Alfred? And how long will it take the GCPD or paramedics to arrive?

I strain my ears, trying to catch the wail of sirens from afar, but even that miserable effort sends a wave of pain through me that makes me close my eyes.

It’s getting harder to breathe. My heartbeat’s slowing down. I know what this means.

I’m dying.

Minutes left—maybe less, if God decides to be merciful for once.

Somewhere far away, I think I hear children laughing in the street. And my mind—traitorous, gentle—drifts to the twins. My baby siblings. I wonder if they got into trouble today. I wonder how long will it take them to move on from this. I wonder what kind of people they'll grow up into.

I see Mom's face as well. Her beautiful smile, her eyes full of warmth just for us. The strongest, bravest woman I've known. My idol. The person I look up to the most. The one I strived to become.

I wonder how she'll receive the news. I wonder if she'll resent me from not listening to her and causing her this grief, after everything she's already lost. Or if she'll mourn me in silence just to keep her facade, for the twins' sake, because they still need her.

I wonder if she’ll decorate my grave the way she decorated my first room—lovingly, meticulously, pouring all her devotion into it like it is the only thing she can control.

I hope they're fine. I hope, if there's something else after this, that I get to watch them from afar. Make sure they're okay until we meet again.

But as darkness begins to cloak my vision, and my body grows heavier—sleepier—there’s a small part of me that wails. Crying out in desperation, because she doesn’t want to die yet.

She’s scared. Terrified. She’s not ready to leave this world behind. Not yet.

Not the people we love. Not the memories. Not the laughter, the warmth, the mess of it all.

She wants to live.

Even now, even here—she still wants to live.

I still want to live.

That's my last though before my eyes shut completely, with warm tears running down my cheeks, and the blood soaking my clothes.

...............

.......

What's that light at the end? Is it the sun, or the gates?