Archive of Our Own

Pomni, Ragatha, Zooble, Gangle, and Kinger were in the middle of game night in Kinger's impenetrable fortress.

It was a weekly event they'd started a few weeks ago. With Caine becoming increasingly more erratic and unhinged, it felt safer when they were able to gather together, and Kinger's fortress had the benefit of being cozy, private, MUCH bigger on the inside than the outside, and dark enough that the chesspiece was able to be more aware.

As Pomni bemoaned the fact that she had to pick up 16 cards in their game of Una (the totally not non-copywrited sister game to the ever popular "Uno"), Kinger decided to break up Pomni's torture with a comment.

"You know, I love my 4 daughters." He says wistfully, and stop.

Pause.

Rewind.

What?

Everyone else in the circle just freezes, staring at Kinger at the sudden information the man had just dropped. If there was one thing Kinger was the king of (other than therapy and shotguns) it was insane lore drops.

Outside of the pillow fort, the man sometimes had random comments that would initially be brushed off, but in the dark, when Kinger is more aware, sometimes the man would tell a story where everything just made sense.

Kinger had a wife.

Kinger moonlit as a lumberjack for a year.

Kinger once got onto the wrong flight and went to Florida instead of New York.

Kinger once spent his Thanksgiving chasing a turkey.

Kinger was nearly an Olympic gymnast.

Kinger previously spent three weeks in a military prison.

Kinger once stole a Ronald McDonald statue and stuffed it into the trunk of his car.

So, Kinger dropping random lore wasn't anything new. They often came with a pause, but what made this pause even longer was that, well…

"I didn't know you had kids, Kinger!" Ragatha suddenly exclaimed, breaking the silence with a level of cheer that was totally not trying to mask her surprise.

Pomni blinks her huge eyes for a second before nodding slowly, "Yeah… I didn't either."

They all try hard not to think about the fact that Kinger has been stuck here longer than all of them. They try hard not to think about the fact that these girls have gone years without a father. That they might never know where he went. That Kinger's wife ended up in the circus too, so that means these kids could have been left all alone, not even aware that their mother (well… that's assuming Queenie is their mother, but Kinger has never talked about anyone else (he also has never talked about his kids though)) was gone (…ish? She's as good as gone for now anyways.)

There is a widespread sense of sorrow that overcomes the younger four in the fortress. Sorrow because of the reminder that not only are they stuck here, but because their loved ones may have no idea where they are. They may be mourning (or worse, in Ragatha's case, they may not care.)

A sorrow that is noticeably not shared by Kinger, who continues to stare down at his hand of cards as if he hasn't just dropped another bomb of dad lore (and in this case, it's actual dad lore.)

"Do… do you miss them, Kinger?" Gangle asks after a moment, sadness clear in her own voice despite the fact her comedy mask is yet to break today. The answer to this question seems obvious, but asking it gives Kinger a chance to talk about his feelings, the same way he always gave them a space to talk about theirs.

Which is why it's all the more surprising when Kinger's eyes shift away from his hand of cards (being held by his floating hand) and to Gangle with a confused blink before saying…

"No? Why would I?"

And…

What?!

Hearing these words out of any parent's mouth sounds nearly unimaginable. And for the parents that would say it (i.e. Ragatha's mom), they likely should never have become parents in the first place.

But for Kinger to say it?

Kinger. The group's emotional safe space. Who they could always go to when they needed to talk. Who would listen and offer sound advice without judgement. Who despite having a reputation for being "crazy," was often one of the most sane of the bunch?

Kinger. To say he doesn't miss his children. The same Kinger that waxed poetry about his wife whenever given the chance. The same Kinger who went from hating insects to loving them because of this entomologist of a wife?

"How could you say something like that?" A voice finally asks, cracking at the end, and all heads turn towards the speaker because this specific tone of voice is rarely ever heard.

Ragatha looks… broken. There is glossiness in her single eye as she looks at Kinger, seeming to be falling apart on the inside. And it doesn't take a genius to know why.

"Y-you're supposed to love your kids. No matter what." And the ragdoll's voice begins to pick up as she stands and paces around the fortress. "You're supposed to support them. They- they aren't supposed to be a kind of burden. They aren't toys that can be played with, they're people! They're-"

"Ragatha." A calm voice says, speaking over Ragatha's but not yelling. Never yelling. The red-head halts in place, locking her one eye onto Kinger's blue ones, which stare at her with a look of pain and understanding in them. Pain and understanding and… something else.

(What else?)

"Ragatha," the man speaks again, voice even gentler than before. "How can I miss any of you when you haven't left me?"

There is another lapse of silence as the meaning of Kinger's words finally wash over all of them, and now Ragatha looks even closer to tears for a completely different reason.

"Wait…" Pomni says quietly, the only one brave enough to voice what it's possible Kinger may be implying. "Are we your kids, Kinger?"

And there is even more of that emotion in Kinger's eyes now, a softness, a warmth, a love.

"Well… yeah. Queenie and I were never able to have kids of our own. We were both too… married to our work. We always talked about having them when we were older but… things happened." The but then we got trapped here is left unsaid, hanging above his words. "But, yeah. I guess I've come to think of all of you as my kids. And I'm sure if she was still around she'd feel the same way."

The words hit them all. Because while a lot of them have mentally considered the people in their circus their friends, and in a lot of ways, family, this is the first time it's ever been said aloud like this. And for some of them…

"Oh." Ragatha whispers, before tears begin swelling in her eye and she starts sobbing, causing Kinger to drop his Una cards and stand up to rush over, hands outstretched to offer a hug, without forcing it on her. And the moment he comes close Ragatha is throwing herself into his chest (or… whatever his chest would be?), his hands wrapping around her as he begins to stroke her back.

"It's okay. It's okay." Kinger whispers, his gloved hands continuing their comforting ministrations as everyone else stares at the pair in silent shock. Both because of Kinger's words but also Ragatha's reaction to them, because while everyone knows the relationship Ragatha has with her mother (and with herself) is undeniably fucked up, it's rare that Ragatha lets it show just how much it gets to her. It's rare that Ragatha breaks. And at this moment everyone acknowledges the importance for her to do so, because she's never felt like she had the space before. Not at home and not in the circus.

But here. In the impenetrable fortress (which is impenetrable to everything except gloinks and feelings). In Kinger's hands and non-existent arms…

"…if it bothers you I don't have to call you that." Kinger quietly says, talking not just to Ragatha but to all of them. "I like to think of you as my kids, but you guys also have your own families and lives, and I understand if that makes you uncomfortable. But I just want you to know I have the space for you in my heart if you need it."

"N-no." Ragatha whispers, eye opening as she slowly starts to pull away, using her hand to wipe the residual tears from her face. "It's okay. You can call me that. It's just… I wasn't expecting it I guess. I never thought…" And she trails off, looking down at the ground in a way that finishes her sentence in more ways than words ever could.

"I'm okay with it." Gangle says hesitantly as she stands, Pomni nodding in agreement as she does the same. "I miss my dad," the set of ribbons continues, "and in a lot of ways you have been one for us. For me."

And as the three girls smile at him, that just leaves Zooble who stares before also getting up with a sigh.

"I'd remind you that we're all adults, and that even if we're your kids we should be treated as such but… I figure you already know that." The mismatched cash-piano says, pausing for a moment before… "It's just… you know I'm not a girl, right?"

And it's at that moment the others are reminded of the fact that Kinger said he loved his four daughters. And while there are four other people in the room (or well… pillow fort) with him, only three really fit the bill.

Zooble doesn't look particularly bothered since they tend to play fast and loose with gendered terms, but it's still a big part of who they are (a part that their own parents never seemed to understand) so it's important that Kinger knows that (even if he has always been very good with their pronouns in the past, which makes this a bit weirder.)

"I know that." The father figure says, as if it's as much a fact as anything. "You're a Zooble."

And yeah… the best way to describe Zooble's gender would indeed be "Zooble."

"I didn't forget about you Zooble!" The man continues to explain, "I have five kids. Four daughters and one Zooble."

Ah, that makes more sense.

Except…

"Wait, who is the fourth daughter?"

The question from Pomni, the resident accountant, causes another set of pauses as everyone does the mental math to realize that the math ain't mathing.

One Gangle plus one Ragatha plus one Pomni equals…

"Oh," Kinger said, with a flip of his hand, sounding incredibly sane despite the confusing things coming out of his non-mouth, "I don't think she's with us right now. Between you and me, I think she's kind of shy."

And that… could mean a lot of things. It could mean Kinger has an imaginary daughter. It could mean he considers one of the insects his daughters. It could mean someone that previously abstracted was his daughter (though if so, him saying he "doesn't miss them" wouldn't make much sense, Kinger has said in the past he does miss his wife.)

It could be… an NPC? Or Kinger's mind not just mathing? Or…

"What about Jax?" Pomni suddenly asks, noticing the odd man out.

Which, to be fair, until this moment they had all been living in a blissfully Jax-free existence. Every time Jax has previously been invited to one of these game nights, he just laughed in their faces, causing Zooble to bring up the question of why they even bother asking him.

As of late, Jax has been a lot more aloof in general. When he's not tormenting them, he's absent, either in his room or somewhere else in the circus. The few attempts Pomni had at trying to talk to him alone ended with him walking around a corner and disappearing from sight. And to compensate for his more recurrent absences, he's been even more unbearable than usual.

So, Pomni bringing up the bunny not in the room did cause several reactions, including a squeak from Gangle, a nervous stutter from Ragatha, a look from Zooble, and a… well, Kinger didn't really do anything. He looked the same.

"I-I, just…" Pomni scrambles, trying to finish her question. "If we're Kinger's daughters and Zooble is his Zooble, would that make Jax his… son?"

And, huh…

"Oh, god." Zooble starts with in an exasperated voice, "could you imagine having Jax as a brother?"

"W-well, I mean… I guess he is sort of our little brother… in a way?" Ragatha says in an uncertain tone, conflicted between her nice personality and the fact that Jax was well… Jax and had tormented every single person in the room on more than one occasion.

"If he is a little brother," Zooble throws back, "It's the kind that goes around chasing his older siblings with a knife or lighting hills on fire or releasing rabid animals or something else f—cked up."

And… to be fair… Jax has done all those things… on more than one occasion.

"W-wait." Gangle suddenly asks, piping in to the conversation. "How old is Jax anyways? Would he even be the little brother?"

And the four claimed "children of Kinger" pause for a moment, because none of them can remember Jax ever actually giving his age. Even when Jax entered the circus, he was never upfront with Ragatha about how old he was, and everyone else entered afterwards. Ragatha knows Kinger mentioned something previously about Jax being one of the youngest along with Zooble… but that would just mean he's under the age of 25 since that's how old Pomni is…

There's just a small huff from Zooble though, as they pick up their Una cards and start shuffling through them again. "Are you honestly telling me you think Jax is older than any of us?" They ask, before continuing on as they proceed to not really look at anyone else in the room. "Have you seen his alcohol tolerance? I'd put down money the sh—t never had a sip of alcohol before the circus. He'd just pretend to for the clout."

And that was… pretty specific, but…

Yeah, Jax would.

"So, wait, Kinger." Ragatha says, returning to the original question. "Is Jax your son?"

And during this conversation the chesspiece has gone back to staring at his own cards, gaze only flicking up to the ragdoll for a moment as he answers.

"Huh? Oh… no, I don't think Jax would like that very much."

And, well, that's fair.

Jax got hostile over being invited to a game night, imagine how he'd react to being invited to a family. Kinger is one of the members of the circus Jax seems more intent on ignoring than tormenting on the regular (probably because Kinger rarely gives him the reactions he wants or is just repetitive (and for Jax repetitive=boring)), but this could quickly change things.

The silence lingers after that, and the five go back to their cards.

And only the chesspiece ever noticed from a crack in the pillows of his impenetrable fortress, a familiar purplish hue that had lingered close the entire time, leaving just as quiet as it came when the conversation dropped off.

And as Jax goes back to his room after making the horrible decision to spy on the losers to see what they were doing (which… what did he really expect? The only thing losers ever do is loser shit), all he can think is how right Kinger is.

Him being claimed as Kinger's son. That's laughable. As laughable as the idea of him being Ragatha's little brother. Or Zooble's. Or Pomni's. Or Crybaby's.

He doesn't want to be part of their stupid little family.

He's Jax. He's the Funny One. The asshole. He has no need for a family and nobody should want him as one. Because Zooble is right, Jax is the kind of family member who would push his sister down the stairs for a laugh. Jax is the kind of family member who the other family members would need to have therapy about.

He hopes Kinger has fun with his stupid children. And Zooble has fun being his stupid Zooble. And Gangle and Ragatha and Pomni all have fun being his stupid daughters.

And that last daughter…

Ha! Jax feels sorry for whoever that poor sod is. Assuming there is a fourth one and crazy Kinger doesn't just suck at counting!

(And thank god Pomni asked that question about him, because for a second Jax was worried Kinger was implying that he was that poor sod, and could you imagine?! Him. Jax. The pinnacle of masculinity. Being Cuckoo-Crazy's daughter?! That would be… that would be…

That would be so stupid.)

(So, so stupid.)

Jax is doing great. Stupendous. Fabulous. Awesome. Rad. Whatever other word meaning "great" is how Jax is doing.

Splendid is how Jax is when he works even harder to fix his gaze when he walks across the hallway to avoid looking at that damn door.

Marvelous perfectly describes how Jax feels every time the exhaustion starts to hit him when Pomni's eyes wander towards him and the smile on his face feels so much heavier.

Capital is an old-fashiony term that an old geezer (like Kinger) would probably use in relation to Jax whenever Jax's eyes wandered to the group of circus freaks that only seem to have become closer in the recent weeks (and why wouldn't he feel capital?! He doesn't want to be friends with them anyways. The only annoying thing about them all being so close together is that it means it's harder to corner one of them for some extra fun.)

(Plus them spending time together totally doesn't mean Pomni is talking about him. Hell, why would she even talk about him? That whole incident between them was far more embarrassing for her than him. The only reason she would bring it up would be if she really wanted to take Gangle's role as the crybaby of the group, or if she was somehow delusional enough to think Jax was her friend or "needed saving.")

In summary: Jax is great. Never been greater. If Jax was running for president, he would run on the platform of making everything as great as him. That's how great he is.

Jax is great because he is the Funny One. He doesn't need anyone else. The people around him are simply toys he can play with and break for fun. He's just jokes that can be too cruel but that's fine because to him they're funny. He's Jax. Resident asshole bunny. Pinnacle of masculinity. All the things you hate about men rolled into one.

Jax is great because he's never anything but great.

He's so great that when he gets up in the morning, he has to avoid looking in the mirror, because all it will do is remind him of how damn great he is. And that's a lot for anyone to take on. Even someone as great as Jax.

He's so great that—

"Do you think it's Caine?" The voice of a certain crybaby asks from below, the group of losers is all gathered by the couch, gossiping about whatever bullshit they gossip about, while Kinger is… somewhere (probably chasing butterflies or adopting more kids) and Jax is coolly perched hidden atop several blocks, literally above them all.

"Wait. What." And there is Zooble, right besides her, because where ever you find Crybaby, you also find her damn guard dog. "You think Caine is Kinger's daughter?"

"I- I don't know!" Crybaby stammers out, probably close to living up to her name. "But he's mentioned that computer science stuff, and we've all see him make stuff in the circus. So like… what if he made Caine?"

"…wouldn't that also mean he made the circus, though?" The voice of a certain annoying ragdoll asks, somehow entertaining this conversation because of course she's oh so nice. "And… would sort of be the reason we are trapped in here?"

"…well, couldn't he have just adopted Caine? I mean… it's not like Kinger made any of us." A jester who is better off not being named says, still feeding into all this crap about them being some Big Happy Family, as if any of them are remotely stable enough for something like that.

"I just don't know if I'd want Caine to be my sister. That may actually be worse than Jax being my brother." The sad excuse for a children's toy shudders, and you know what, fuck you too Zooble.

As if Jax would want to be their brother. The very word makes him shudder just from the damn wholesome family-ness of it all.

"…maybe it's one of the NPCs? Maybe Kinger adopted one of them?" The local storage unit for mommy issues offers, and Jax is sure the only reason nobody is shutting the whole Kinger-adopts-an-NPC idea down is because he's not the first in the group to attempt it (rip that Australian. Jax is still half convinced he did that just to get out of the inevitable draft on the horizon after Jax let Public Enemy Number Fudge into the kingdom.)

"Like… the Gloink Queen?" The drawer of hentai asks and… she wishes. God, that freak probably has fanart of that already. More fanart than the number fans made after Gangle forced him to wear that damn maid—

Okay. Seriously. What is up with that?!?! He's not surprised the little perv would force him to wear it. And he's not surprised everyone else would take the opportunity to embarrass him like that, but what is up with the fandom? It's like they like seeing him like that. Weak. Emasculated. Feminine.

It's just wrong. And disgusting. And anyone who actually liked Jax is that outfit is just a perverted little sicko who—

"Seems fitting for you though. I figured you'd be into this."

"I don't think I've ever seen you this upset about something before."

Maybe he was upset about it because he wasn't a fucking freak, Zooble. And the notion that it was something he could even be remotely into—

"You're such a fucking sissy."

"What did I tell you about being a man?"

"Are you some kind of faggot?"

He's not into it. He didn't like it at all. And why the hell would he? He's Jax. He's—

He's the Funny One. He doesn't need anyone else. The people around him are simply toys he can play with and break for fun. He's just jokes that can be too cruel but that's fine because to him they're funny. He's Jax. Resident asshole bunny. Pinnacle of masculinity. All the things you hate about men rolled into one.

(But if that's all true, then why did it bother him so damn much? Why was it that under all that anger there was a sense of shame, like maybe he was one of those freaks? Or somehow even worse. Why was it that the embarrassment was not only because people saw him like that, but that part of him seemed to like it? Why was in some ways it feels like the worst part of things wasn't that he was wearing a dress, but that it was all clearly meant to be a joke to humiliate him? And why the hell should he feel bad about that when there is nothing else it could have been?)

He's Jax. He's the Funny One. He's—

He's a cartoon rabbit with purple fur and pink overalls but that's fine because he makes it work. And who cares when his avatar is clearly that of a guy? The long body, the flatness of it all, the lack of any curvature. He's a purple and pink bunny rabbit but what does that even matter when Jax is so obviously a man. And even when he was forced into that dress, all the world saw was some dumb man being embarrassed. Some dumb man being forced into an outfit that so clearly didn't fit him, and just looked wrong on his obviously male body.

Like. Literally. Gangle gave him a boob window. HE DOESN'T HAVE BOOBS. HE DOESN'T HAVE ANYTHING. WHAT THE HELL WAS THE POINT OF THAT EXCEPT TO SAY "HAHA HERE'S A GUY IN A GIRL'S DRESS. IT'S OBVIOUSLY WRONG AND DOESN'T FIT HIM! DOESN'T HE LOOK STUPID?!"

Jax can feel his flat, boyish, would-never-work-in-a-dress chest getting tighter and he quickly finds that he's struggling to breathe. And it's so stupid because they don't need to breathe here, but somehow his body isn't getting the memo.

Breathe you fucking idiot.

Wait. No. Why does it matter he doesn't need to breathe. He doesn't—

Cartoon characters don't struggle with breathing. They don't even need to think about it, they just—

Fucking hell.

His body feels like it's being puppeteered by someone else as he clumsily scrambles to get down from his perch. The deafening panic is being overwritten by the even louder fact that he cannot be seen like this.

Just get down and go to his room.

Don't be seen.

For fucks sake, he's Jax. He's the Funny One. He doesn't need anyone else. The people around him are simply toys he can play with and break for fun. He's just jokes that can be too cruel but that's fine because to him they're funny. He's Jax. Resident asshole bunny. Pinnacle of masculinity. All the things you hate about men rolled into one.

He's Jax and Jaxes don't have breakdowns on the top of towers over something as stupid and silly as a fucking maid dress. He's Jax and Jaxes don't keep circling over the fact that the revealing dress only made it more obvious that his body is—

Stop. No. He's Jax. And Jaxes are completely fine with their bodies. They're the pinnacle of masculinity. They relish in being a cartoon character. And being something non-human is all the better because they aren't human at all. He's Jax. And that's a good thing because it's better than being human and thinking about stupid shit, and contemplating what his human form would look like makes his skin crawl.

Stop. No. He's Jax and he's great. Fine. Stupendous. Exemplary. Never better.

He's Jax and he's—

He's standing in the middle of his room— and when the hell did he get there— and he's standing in front of a mirror and all he can see is—

Tall, rectangular like figure. Stupidly long ears. Those damn overalls that are so low half his chest is fucking exposed. He's built like a fucking stringbean. And the fucking girly-ass color scheme is so—

So—

So stupid.

And he feels nauseous just looking at himself. And it's so stupid because he's not fucking Zooble or Gangle or anyone else in the damn circus who has a problem with their avatar. His avatar is fucking awesome. It's—

It's—

It's so stupid and he hates it and why the hell does he even look like this and what does it matter there is nothing he can do about this and that fucking dress—

He's not a fucking girl. That much is obvious. Even without his body, his fucking voice— it grates his fucking ears at times. That's one of the good things about being Jax though, about putting on a bit of a character voice. It's Jax's. And Jax is a character who loves nothing more than the sound of his own voice, and would never sound different because that's just how he sounds.

This is all their damn fault. Gangle and that damn dress. And—

And it shouldn't bother him this much. It was a dress. Jax should just get petty revenge out of annoyance and then move on with his life, it shouldn't bother him. He's the funny one. So why the hell does it bother him so much? It's a dress and he's a guy and wearing a dress is just wrong and he looked so stupid and everyone was just looking at him and laughing and he's wrong and broken and disgusting and—

There's a shatter that pierces through Jax's mind, causing him to finally look around and notice that in front of him is shattered shards of a mirror, it standing right in front of him broken while his fist is outstretched and—

Oh, okay.

Okay.

Good riddance.

…now maybe he should do the same thing to Gangle's face.

"I guess he is sort of our little brother… in a way?"

Little brother. Yeah, right, Ragatha. Like he even wants to be a part of their stupid family. He knows they sure as hell don't want him, and that's fucking fine. He doesn't want them either. Why the heck would he? Families are weak and stupid and the idea of being anyone's brother makes him feel sick—

(If Jax was president (which he would have to become by running on the platform of his greatness and how everything should be as great as him), he would make marriage illegal. For everyone. Not just the gays. There's marriage equality for you, Zooble. And adoption… fuck adoption, who the hell has that ever helped (definitely not Jax.) And that whole thing with abortion… if he was president it would be a crime to NOT have an abortion. Hell, he may even just give out coathangers for free! That would surely fix a lot of problems!)

Oh nooooo. Father Kinger probably wouldn't like Jax thinking like this!

Then again, why should that nutcase even care when he knows just as well as Jax that Jax doesn't want to be his fucking son.

He's better off being no one's son because—

Because he's Jax. He's the Funny One. He doesn't need anyone else. The people around him are simply toys he can play with and break for fun. He's just jokes that can be too cruel but that's fine because to him they're funny. He's Jax. Resident asshole bunny. Pinnacle of masculinity. All the things you hate about men rolled into one.

Yeah, exactly. That.

(But if all of that is true, why does it hurt so damn much whenever he looks at a mirror? Why, lately, is the only feeling he has towards himself disgust for how stupid he looks? He doesn't want to be human. Wanting to be human is just one step away from abstraction. And for as hot, and muscular, and manly he's sure his human body is (was?), it's not something Jax should care about.)

(He doesn't want to be human. But also… sometimes it's like he doesn't want to be himself either. And that's stupid, because he's Jax. And Jax is great.)

"—and Ragatha, our oldest, is just so kind. I worry she puts way too much pressure on herself, though. It's hard because I think she feels like she constantly needs to prove she has a right to exist or something, and it's hard for her to believe otherwise. I think she's finally beginning to accept otherwise though, and that's the best thing I can ask for. I'm sorry you never got to meet her, because I know you would have loved her. And she needs a good mother after everything she's gone through."

The night side of the outdoors of the circus was one of Kinger's favorite places to spend his time.

Being there reminded him of his wife. Of the ways she'd drag him along with her as she explored. Even though Kinger was always more of a computer guy, nothing brought him more joy that the serenity and excitement on her face (he can't remember her face now, but he can remember the feeling. The feeling of seeing it.)

He'd go out in the dead of night. In the freezing cold. If it meant he could see that face. She loved going on trips to observe exotic insects, and he'd put up with a million creepy crawlies if it meant seeing her light up like that.

(It's funny, now Kinger is the one who glows when he holds his breath, but for the longest time Queenie was his light, and maybe that's why he starts to lose his mind when he's not in a dark room, because how can there be light if she isn't around?)

"And Pomni," Kinger continues, speaking into the night sky. He's fully on the dark side of the map, the sun far behind him so he can just have this moment. There are some glowing fireflies floating about, a few butterflies too, and it all just feels like her. And even if she was gone, he liked to think part of her was still out there. Her code was never deleted, just transformed, becoming something else, something that could stay with him. Stay with them all. "Gosh, she's really come into herself I think. I know what you'd say about her though, that she's a lot like me. And I guess that's true but… I just hope she's better. She's so good and I'm worried that something here will happen that will just break her."

It's hard, knowing that she never had a chance to meet any of the people that were now such a big part of his life. It's hard, knowing she never got the chance to love them. Two things that brought him happiness, purpose, were never able to meet, and the only consolation he had was that somewhere out there she was watching over things and smiling. Laughing at his antics. Offering the others phantom comfort when they needed it. Telling Ragatha that her mother was wrong, that she didn't need to take everyone on by herself. Consoling Gangle. Being a quiet companion for Zooble, while also giving them the place where they don't need to be strong all the time. Providing comfort for Pomni.

And…

"And Jax. Jax." Kinger has a feeling that if anyone needed Queenie's kind, enduring, but no-bullshit presence it would be the lagomorph. Queenie always had a way of standing strong, of being able to offer comfort to the people who needed it but also being able to be frank to those who instead needed someone with a more steady hand. "I've been trying to give Jax space, you know how it goes, I didn't want to force anything. And pushing Jax only ever seemed to make them double down, but— I don't know, maybe I'm also being selfish. I've never been good at confrontation, you know, and I guess I'm starting to worry that the reason Jax still is pushing people away is because they don't know there is another option."

Kinger remembers Jax when the rabbit first entered the circus, the way the confusion and terror of being trapped bled away into a kind of freedom that was fun to watch. He remembers the way Jax would always find ways to take advantage of the cartoon world they'd all found themselves in. He remembers how there were some things about the circus that nobody seemed to pick up on except for himself and Jax, ever intuitive about the digital world that made Kinger wonder if the other also had a past in computer science.

But then… Ribbit. The lighthearted humor became sharp, a knife for Jax to push other people away, and any attempt the others had to reach out ended with Jax just getting crueler. He remembers refusing to buy into Jax's act, and while he wouldn't force the other to speak, he also wouldn't fully condemn Jax aloud, because that would be just giving Jax what they wanted.

But nothing mattered, because Jax seemed to just get worse and worse, and the moments of Kinger's sanity just became less and less.

"I always thought you would be the best mother." Kinger says, looking at one of the butterflies that begin to hover right above his hand. As if his love was there but just out of reach. Kinger knew he had a way of offering some comfort and advice, but always found a way to do it in those quiet moments, where the other person felt alone and in the dark, where Kinger was able to light the way. But Queenie… Queenie had a way of making people listen, and it was becoming more and more evident that Jax likely would never be openly receptive to things any other way. "You'd have something to say, I'm sure. You always were good at getting into stubborn people's heads— remember how I was when we first met?"

Kinger had been quiet, reclusive, he pushed people away and worked to focus on his work, he had always been and outsider, and over time he got less interested in trying to be anything else. But then there was Queenie. And she was an outsider too but in a completely different way. She made it clear that just because they were different didn't mean they had to be alone.

"I guess you'd say 'like father, like daughter' or something like that. And I know, I know it's not meant to be my responsibility, but how can it not be after everything? All these kids trapped here… how can I think of them as anything but? And I have a feeling that even though you'd try to say it wasn't my fault, they would become your kids too. And I wish you were here because I worry that out of everyone, the one you'd surely consider your youngest daughter needs you the most. Even if Jax would surely hate it—"

"What. The. F—k." A voice suddenly says, breaking through the quiet nighttime, and Kinger doesn't have to turn his head much to see a certain rabbitoid standing stock still off to the side, face getting redder and redder as something like rage quickly grew, eclipsing the horror that seemed to previously have been upon it.

The butterfly by Kinger's hand continues to flutter close by, handing on the chesspiece's finger as the man's eyes soften as he takes the other in.

"Oh, hi Jax."

But the person in question continues to just look at Kinger with absolute vitriol present on their face, pupils small cubes as they grit their teeth.

"Don't just— 'hi, Jax'— what the hell is this bullsh—t?! Are you seriously talking to one of your imaginary friends about your delusions?!" Jax is shaking with anger, spitting each word out like it's acid.

Because how the hell could Kinger think—

"Jax—"

"I'm fine!" The rabbit shouts, cutting off the man's soft words before he can go any farther. Jax just needs Kinger to stop talking. The fact the man said all this stuff— seems to believe all this stuff— said it in a place where anyone could hear—

Jax would become a laughing stock.

What the hell is Jax doing wrong?! First Pomni with her bullshit claims of "friendship" and now this…

"I don't know what the hell Pomni has told you, I don't know what the hell your crazy brain thinks you're seeing but I'm fine!"

Fine. Perfectly fucking fine. Until all these nosy, delusional weirdos decided that they should try to "figure Jax out." As if there is anything to figure out— as if Jax isn't just a—

It's simple. It's easy. Jax is a cartoon character. Jax is the Funny One. Jax is the asshole. Jax has no need for a family and nobody should want Jax as one.

"Despite your delusions to have some kind of f—king family, I'm not your kid!" And not even a kid, Jax isn't Kinger's da— "NO one here is! They are all just desperate to play that Ohana-family bullsh—t because they're all sad and pathetic losers who miss their mommies, and they feel bad for you."

The fact Kinger's expression hasn't changed at all and is looking just sad and understanding only enrages Jax more, because it's as if the chesspiece isn't even listening. As if nothing Jax is saying he believes. And just how much fucking proof does everyone need? Jax is just exhausted and no, it's not because it's all an act, but because Jax is getting tired of all these inane ideas.

Jax is my friend! Jax is just hurting! Jax loves wearing little maid dresses! Jax is falling apart at the seams! Jax is a girl—

No. He has no friends. He is perfectly fine. He hates wearing dresses because they're just stupid and embarrassing and don't suit him at all. He is doing great. And he sure as hell isn't a girl or someone's fucking daughter, least of all Kinger's—

(Why would Kinger even think that? Why did the words scare Jax so much? Why—)

Stop. Restart. He's Jax. And Jaxes don't get scared of some crazy words thrown around by Hoo-Ha of all people.

"Do you even have a wife?" Jax cruelly asks with a smile, because there are too many emotions floating around, but mean. Jax can be mean. Can make Kinger never want to claim Jax as a child— as a fucking daughter again. "Or did you make her up too? Just a sad, old man desperate for a family—"

"JAX!"

Jax freezes.

Not because of Ragatha yelling his name, she does that at least three times a day.

Not because of the amount of horror and anger in her voice, because this is Kinger. And while Jax is known for being a total dick to everyone in the circus, Kinger is rarely his target (because bullying the poor nutcase is just sad.)

But because she is here.

How long has she been here? What did she hear? Did she—

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Why does it even matter?! Everyone knows Kinger is crazy! Ol' Dollface is probably only here to get brownie points with Papa Dearest, or because of her damn savior complex. The stuff Kinger says rarely makes sense so why would this be any different—

But if it's nothing to worry about, why did Jax react so strongly?

Because it's stupid. Because Jax isn't a fucking girl. He's not weak. There are enough damn girls in the circus (and also Zooble) and they're all so annoying. The fact Kinger would even throw him in the same boat as them—

Shit, has Kinger already said something about this? Do they already know—

Know nothing. Jax is fine. He's just panicking because it's Ragatha and Ragatha loves to make a big deal about everything and rub her non-existent nose in people's business so they feel "loved."

"What?!" He snaps, turning around to direct his full anger onto the ragdoll. If she wants to be daddy's little protector then fine. He'll give her a job to do.

"You can't— what is wrong with you?! You can't talk to Kinger like that!"

Jesus Christ.

"Mind your business." He scoffs with an eyeroll, because for some reason Ragatha always loved getting involved in everyone's problems. Probably just she could ignore her own.

Of course, Ragatha doesn't take Jax's ever helpful advice.

"No!" And she's getting closer now, moving forward as she continues to rant/lecture him. "What did Kinger even do to you?! What have any of us ever done to you?! I didn't think you could possibly sink any lower and then you—"

A calm voice cuts in, "Ragatha, it's okay." And Jax just wishes the old man would shut up. He's done enough—

"None of this is okay!" Yeah, yeah, whatever. "Jax can't— Jax shouldn't be talking to anyone like that! He can't keep—"

Yep, she's said it a thousand times. Jax, you can't keep breaking Gangle's mask! Jax, don't throw the NPCs into that river of acid! Jax, stop antagonizing Zooble! Jax, be more welcoming to Pomni! Jax, stop giving Caine ideas for horribly violent adventures where everyone else gets hurt!

Same thing. Over and over again. Blah, blah, blah. Because Jax is the Funny One, and Ragatha's the makeshift mother of the group (probably because of her own mommy issues), the eternal designated driver, the one who takes things so damn seriously. (As if Gangle's mask doesn't break everyday and the NPC's are somehow real people and Zooble isn't always ready to start shit with him and Caine doesn't come up with horribly violent shit all on his own.)

(As if he isn't Jax.)

"You're right," Kinger says, and yep, wow, gold star for Walmart's Raggedy Ann. "Jax shouldn't be treating people like this, it's not fair to any of you." Like any of this is fair— "But what happened just now with me wasn't entirely Jax's fault, I said something that…"

Oh, shut up.

Shut up.

"What could you have possibly said to him?"

Kinger said nothing. Jax is fine.

"Um, I'm right here, you know?" Jax says, cutting in, because he's not a fucking child and also if Kinger blabs one word then all of a sudden this will become some kind of thing, and people may start getting ideas.

"Did you seriously go off on Kinger because he said something to you?!" The ragdoll has turned back to Jax, and all Jax can be in that moment is grateful because at least she isn't still talking to Kinger. "I'm sure he was just trying to help!"

Help. Sure, like Jax needs help.

"Come on now, if anyone here needs help it's you." Jax sneers, because he doesn't need any help. And he's so tired of people thinking they somehow need to save him. That he's anything more than… this.

Thankfully, Ragatha just seems done with him, and instead of giving any kind of response she just turns to Kinger, ignoring Jax entirely.

"…Kinger, how about we go inside now? I'm sure the others would be up for a game night."

Wow, real mature.

"Another game night?!" Jax calls out as the two start to walk away from him, because does she seriously think she can just— "Wow, have you guys gotten boring. You have fun with that."

Ragatha doesn't turn around though, and the only indication Jax gets that he was heard at all is Kinger slightly turning to look at him, eyes still full of some kind of concern and weird understanding that makes Jax sick.

Kinger doesn't know anything. He doesn't understand anything.

"I worry that out of everyone, the one you'd surely consider your youngest daughter needs you the most."

The weirdo was just being fucking insane.

Because whatever the chesspiece seems to be thinking, whatever Pomni apparently saw in him is just wrong. He's Jax. He's—

"I guess you'd say 'like father, like daughter' or something like that."

Kinger doesn't know anything about him. The loon couldn't even get his gender right. What, did he just see Jax in that damn maid outfit that one time and assume he was a chick? Given the man's shitty memory, Jax wouldn't be surprised. But how does the man not look at Jax and not see—

For fucks sake. Jax has been curating his mask, putting on this show for years now. Even a blind man should be able to see who and what he is. But somehow people keep getting convinced that Jax is—

If Jax wasn't Jax then he doesn't know who he could possibly be. There is no one else. How can they not see that? They keep trying to dig as if there is some person underneath Jax and there is just…

Nothing.

Nothing.

The role Jax gave himself is the only thing he has left. He has no one else to be.

And besides, in the circus it doesn't matter, because this is all a damn game. A cartoon. Things like "who Jax really is" doesn't even matter because there is no Jax outside of the circus, there's just—

Just—

He doesn't know. He doesn't know and it doesn't matter because he's Jax and Jax belongs to the circus. And in the circus there are no need for people, just characters.

And for some reason, everyone else seems to have another idea. Forming friendships. Worrying about each other. Refusing to shoot him in the face even though he's literally asking her to.

"What?! Because I didn't fight back that means I secretly care about you?! I'm just a misunderstood like chicken fetus in an egg that needs to be cracked open! Well, I. Am. Not."

Pomni was just going insane and needing some kind of project to keep her mind off of the fact that's she's eternally trapped here. Kinger has been losing his mind for years. Neither one of them are—

But if it's not at all accurate why does it bother him so much?

Because it's stupid! Because it's insulting! Because—

But if Jax is just a one-dimension character, if there is nothing behind him, then why does he feel so much terror, so much anger, so much…

Kinger has said crazy crap before, Ragatha has spent dozens of times trying to "fix Jax" before she eventually seemed to resign herself to him, why are the words he overheard digging so deep into him now?

"I have five kids. Four daughters and one Zooble."

"Wait, who is the fourth daughter?"

"So, wait, Kinger. Is Jax your son?"

"Huh? Oh… no, I don't think Jax would like that very much."

Kinger is right. The idea of Jax being his so-called son repulses him. It grates every nerve in his cartoonishly long body.

"[…] your youngest daughter needs you the most. Even if Jax would surely hate it—"

…but the idea of Jax being Kinger's youngest daughter… it's not disgust that immediately fills his body. There's a shame, but under that shame is…

No.

Nonononononononono.

No.

Absolutely not.

What the hell is wrong with him?!

He overhears a couple conversations and all of a sudden part of his mind is convinced that—

Kinger obviously just messed up his words. It obviously isn't that deep. Kinger is probably going to forget this whole thing even happened. The fact that this is even coming up at all is humiliating.

And yet—

Yet there is the fact that part of him did like the dress. That the horror wasn't because of the fact he was wearing it but because of the fact that went it against everything his character was meant to be (something the others surely knew.)

Yet there is the fact that despite the body he has been thrown into is stupid, the idea of going back to his human form only makes him feel more uneasy, because somehow it always felt slightly wrong (wasn't that normal though?)

And yet—

And yet—

Fuck.

It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. It's not like there is anything he can do about this. Caine has always been pretty stingy about not changing their avatars, and Jax doesn't know if he would make the exception for something like this, and besides…

He could be wrong. He could be overthinking. And if he does anything he'll—

He'll be a joke. The others threw him into a dress one time, if he suddenly starts saying he's a girl after all that… just like… aw, look at poor Jaxxy, he's so confused. We put him in one dress as a joke and now he thinks he's a girl!

And maybe it is just that damn dress. Maybe Kinger's words got him confused. Maybe he's just making this all up. Maybe—

(But Jax felt like this before, didn't he? Being a male was always a role he was forced to play. His skin always felt more like a ill-fitting costume than who he was.)

It doesn't matter.

There is nothing he can do.

He's picked his role. He's Jax, and Jax…

He's the Funny One. The asshole. He has no need for a family and nobody should want him as one. Because Zooble is right, Jax is the kind of family member who would push his sister down the stairs for a laugh. Jax is the kind of family member who the other family members would need to have therapy about.

He's Jax. And that's all he ever really can be.

Kinger knows going to Jax's room may not be the best idea.

He played games with the girls and Zooble for a while, but the entire time his interaction with Jax was rolling around in his head and…

And he was worried that it was another thing he would soon forget.

So he excused himself and quickly made his way over to the hallway, turning off the lights as he went so he could ensure he didn't lose focus.

He really couldn't lose focus, because, well…

Confronting Jax almost always leads to an explosion of sorts (sometimes literally) or a door to the face. Jax is someone who hates feeling cornered. They constantly feel in control of the situation, and that's something Kinger can definitely understand, but…

But in giving Jax control, Jax seems to have locked themselves in a box of their own, and while Kinger can in no way make decisions for Jax or "fix them", he can at least let them know there is a free hand if they do want to get out.

Kinger knocks on the door, not fully knowing what to say when Jax inevitably asks who it is and what he wants before sending him away, but…

But after several seconds, there is a sigh heard from the other side of the door and a quiet "who is it?"

Kinger takes a breath before answering in a calm voice, channeling some of the directness he remembers Queenie often possessing.

"It's me." Who is me? Kinger can hear Queenie ask, so he then clarifies. "Kinger, I… I just wanted to see if you wanted to talk."

There is a pause and then the sudden opening of Jax's bedroom door, a gloved hand grabbing Kinger's and pulling him inside.

Kinger doesn't remember if he's been in Jax's room before, but it's dim, the lights are mostly off save for a single bunny shaped lamp on what it appears to be a dresser. He can make out a bed as well, but the main thing that catches his attention are the shards of mirror on the ground.

Jax's yellow eyes are staring unflinchingly back at him, almost glowing in the darkness.

"What?" The rabbit snaps, seeming very on edge, and it just makes Kinger hurt because this isn't what he wanted, it isn't what he wanted at all.

But also… the fact Jax is actually showing some kind of emotion…

"I just wanted to talk about earlier." Kinger starts, only to immediately be interrupted.

"There is nothing to talk about."

Jax's arms cross over each other challengingly, daring Kinger to say otherwise, as if…

"Then why did you pull me into your room?" Kinger asks in a calm and steady voice, because he came here to talk and talk he will. Despite the rabbit's words, there is clearly something they want to say— need to say, but despite all that he's not going to force it out of them. He's only going to make it clear to Jax that he's willing to listen. Jax is allowed their space, but Kinger wants them to know that people don't necessarily need to be pushed away in order to get it.

Jax's eyes dart around the room, pupils now small cubes as they look for something to say before giving a scoff.

"Maybe because I didn't want to blabbing in the hallway for anyone to hear," they gesture with their arms, moving closer to Kinger as they do. "Maybe because I didn't want anyone else to get your silly ideas."

"I'm sorry if me calling you one of my daughters hurt you." Kinger says, and the daughter in question goes to stock still.

The fact that Kinger seems to be this aware is unnerving to Jax. The fact that he's somehow identified the issue— is Jax really that transparent?

And the word— the fact Kinger has said the word again. Like it wasn't a mistake. Like he did remember. Like he did it on purpose.

"…why did you do that?" The question leaves Jax's mouth without the rabbit's consent, because a weak part needs to know. Know why Kinger said that, what he means, if Jax is just overthinking or making things up.

"I guess I've grown to think of everyone in the circus as my children," Kinger starts softly, looking around, so much warmth in his voice that Jax instinctually wants to run away from. "I know you're all adults but I've been here the longest, I've gotten to see each of you come here and grow. And I'm sort of responsible for—"

"No." Jax says, cutting him off. Because thing isn't what Jax was trying to ask. What Jax needs to know is… "I mean- why daughter? Why not son or something?"

Saying the word son sends nausea through Jax's body because no. No. No.

And with that comes a surge of irritation because why— why does daughter sound so much better than son? Why can't Jax just be—

"Do you want to be my son?" Kinger asks in a gentle voice, blue eyes looking back at Jax with nothing but openness. There is no judgement behind them, no real expectation for Jax to be Jax. It's just…

Jax goes quiet, sitting on his bed because no. No. And worst of all, it's not just because Jax doesn't want or need a family or because things like that are stupid, but because—

"I won't lie," Kinger says, moving to sit besides Jax. "I may have made some assumptions-" Assumptions. Implying Kinger did think- "and that's not fair to you. Regardless of if I was off the mark or not I—"

"It wasn't." A hoarse voice says, and it takes Jax a moment to realize who it's coming from.

Because, fuck. Fuck.

The words leave Jax's mouth so easily, and with it comes the realization of just how true they are because—

"…oh?" Kinger asks, inviting Jax to say more, and that just makes it more clear to Jax that words were just said outloud. That Jax did just admit to—

Fuck.

"F—k." Jax whispers, hands reaching to pull at both ears as the rabbitoid's breathing begins to pick up, sobs followed close behind them.

"…Jax—" Kinger starts to say, hand reaching out for comfort but never getting close enough to touch.

"What is wrong with me?!" Jax suddenly screams, pulling even more on her ears as she suddenly stands up, because fuck fuck fuck fuck—

"Nothing." Kinger answers from his seated position, watching softly as the rabbitoid begins to pace around. "Nothing at all. You're just—"

"I can't do one goddamn thing right!" And her vision is starting to blur because despite the panic creeping up her body, the admittance feels so right. Right in a way she has never felt before. Right in a way she has never allowed herself to feel before.

She shouldn't be feeling like this. She's supposed to be Jax. And Jax is—

"Maybe being right starts with being yourself." Kinger says, and Jax just laughs because—

"Like I know who the hell that is!"

How dumb did she have to be to only be realizing this now? She spent years trying to be him, and maybe this whole time—

Everytime she looked in the mirror and felt sick—

Everytime she sneered at the idea of doing anything remotely girly, not because it was stupid but because maybe she wanted to but couldn't—

Did everyone know but her? Her parents— was this why they came down to hard on her for being a faggot? Because they always knew she was a mistake? They were disappointed and trying to fix her? And everyone else…

All those times she paraded around her "masculinity", was everyone else just laughing behind her back? Talking about how much of a damn idiot she was?

Was the maid dress not just because it was funny but because they knew and wanted to see her reaction, see the fool she made out of herself as she was too damn stupid to realize—

"I think part of being human is not knowing," Kinger says, getting up from the bed, and Jax just wants to yell that she doesn't want to be human. She doesn't want to be any of this. "It's about learning as we go, doing what feels right, coming to understand who we are and accepting it."

Yeah, sure, whatever. Maybe for everyone else. Maybe for people like Zooble who are able to be just who they are, but for people like Jax…

"It doesn't matter," she whispers, crushing defeat and disappointment hitting her all at once, because even if this is who she is… "It's too late."

She sits on the ground, tucking her knees against her chest and avoiding the mirror shards that dance a little too close to her feet.

"It's never too late to be happy." Kinger says, sitting beside her.

And how can any of that be true? Jax has spent the last 20 something years of her life being miserable, of making the people around her miserable. How the hell is she just supposed to change that? And does—

Does she even deserve to? She hurt so many people, she took joy in it. How is she just supposed to be be happy now after all that? Act as if the person she was before didn't exist. Act as if people aren't going to look at her and see…

"I don't know if I can just start over."

"Maybe you can't," Kinger says and ouch. "You can't erase what you've done, who you once were, but that doesn't have to be all there is to you. You're allowed to grow and change and build on things. Your past could just be a chapter, a stepping stone in your life."

It's insane how not-insane Kinger is right now.

"…so, I'm supposed to… what? Just change? Tell everyone, 'yeah, sorry, I sucked, but I'm working on that and also I'm a girl—' why would anyone believe me?! They'd probably just think I'm lying or use it as a way to get back at me!"

"I don't think they would." And Jax can't help but laugh because Kinger has too much faith in people. The amount of times she's used people's own fears and insecurities against them… the way she's kept so many things about herself locked up because she can just imagine what people would do when they found out… "It's easy to expect the worst in people, especially when we expect the worst of ourselves. No one wants to be hurt."

Well… some people probably do, masochists for one.

"But the thing is," Kinger continues. "If we hide ourselves away, if we surrender ourselves to being unhappy so we won't be hurt, we just end up tearing ourselves apart."

"Maybe I deserve to be torn apart though." She whispers, and then there is a hand on her shoulder.

"No one deserves to be torn apart." Okay, but what about murderers? Or rapists? Or Hitlers? Or— "And besides, hurting yourself usually ends up hurting the people around you too."

Well, Jax does have a habit of making the people around her miserable…

"I don't now how to just… 'be happy' though." She explains, because the concept seems so foreign now. For so long she played by her script, smiling when Jax was supposed to, laughing at the things Jax was supposed to think were funny, working to get pleasure out of the things that were the only reason the character of Jax even existed at all.

How does one just 'be happy?' She never understood. Any joy on people's faces always seemed so fake to her, it's why it was so easy for her to see through and hate Ragatha. It's why the relationship between Zooble and Gangle was so damn weird to her. It's why the joy Pomni showed to her scared her so much.

"Well…" Kinger starts, "I think part of being happy is accepting that you don't have to deserve things. You have the right to live as yourself, just as long as nobody else is hurt."

"But…" But she has hurt people, so many people.

"You don't need to fix everything overnight," the man continues to explain, as if reading her mind. And the more Kinger talks, the less daunting the whole things seem. "You can just put the foundation down. And then, over time things can start to grow."

Yeah, maybe…

Like planting a seed in the ground, and over time the roots will take place and things can start to bloom—

"You're really smart," she whispers, because it's true and in this moment she has never been more grateful and it's something completely unlike what she would usually say.

"Huh? Oh!" And there is the Kinger she knew. "Thanks Ja…"

And then the man trails off for a moment, causing Jax to look over at him to see the other looking down at the ground for a moment before looking back up at her to ask a question.

"Did you want to be called something else?"

…what?

"You don't have to," the chesspiece explains as the idea continues to turn in Jax's head. "And it's okay if you don't know right now. I just didn't want to assume anything."

But the thing is, Kinger has a point, because Jax…

Jax is the Funny One. The asshole. Jax is someone miserable who makes the people around her miserable. Jax is a character she came up with, who she thought she had to be. It's a name she picked but was never really hers. Just another word with a set of expectations behind it, like whatever name she had while she was a human…

(She's still a human.)

"I don't even know what name I'd pick though." She whispers, looking around her room. "I'm not even completely sure of who I am."

"Well, you don't need to pick right now." Kinger repeats, but she wants to. She needs to. She doesn't want to be Jax anymore. "But I guess… what is something that makes you happy?"

And she doesn't know. She doesn't know. For so long she refused to even admit that she was unhappy. How is she supposed to just—

Daisy, Daisy,
Give me your answer, do!

But there was that time with Pomni…

I'm half crazy,
All for the love of you!

The time she didn't really feel like Jax. She just felt happy. She was having fun and—

It won't be a stylish marriage,

And maybe it was stupid.

I can't afford a carriage,

But wasn't there also that whole thing about growing, becoming a new person, blooming?

But you'll look sweet upon the seat

And besides, isn't she supposed to be done worrying about other people finding her stupid?

Of a bicycle built for two!

Daisy looks to Kinger with a smile, because she's got it. And she's ready to try. And maybe things will be rough but…

(Kinger smiles back.)

But she wants to be happy.

"This is dumb."

So dumb.

"Daisy, if you don't want to do this today—" Kinger says, talking Daisy down in the dark corner they've found themselves in.

"No, no, I should." She scrambles to say. "I need to." She doesn't know how much more of Jax and he she can take. She doesn't want to look like this anymore, she wants to wear the dresses Kinger found for her and the eyeliner she has learned to shakily draw on. She wants to maybe even talk to Caine about changing her avatar, because she hates her flat chest and her voice and her lack of any curves whatsoever. And it feels like she can't do any of that until she tells them, because otherwise everyone will start asking questions and it will be a big thing and— "It's just…"

"You got this." Kinger comfortly whispers, using the same exact tone as when he and Daisy found themselves in her room a week ago. "And no matter what I'm proud of you."

"Wow," she scoffs, though there is clear gratitude in those words. "Thanks dad."

And although Kinger doesn't have a mouth, his eyes brighten in a way that makes it clear he's smiling, and with that the two make their way into the pillow fort for a game night.

One everyone seems surprised to see her at.

"J-Jax?"

"Oh, god."

"H-hey."

"Hi."

Everyone is so damn awkward and a part of Daisy freezes up as it hits her. Is she really going to do this? Everyone here probably hates her and for good reason. She should just break Gangle's mask and make clean break for it and—

And she looks over to Kinger, voice caught in her throat, and the look of understanding in Kinger's eyes make it clear that he can read her.

"I talked Jax into playing with us today! He said he would be on his best behavior, right?" Daisy ignores the stabs through her chest at the name and pronouns Kinger uses, she told him a week ago that she wasn't quite ready and that it would be easier if he kept using the old ones, but that didn't stop the horrible feeling she got every time she heard it out of the chesspiece. Even though she knew Kinger knew, even though she knew Kinger didn't see her like that, it didn't change the fact that Kinger knew who she was and still was calling her that.

The quick, apologetic look Kinger gives her helps though, and she manages to give a nod and an attempt at a relaxed "yeah" before sitting down to join the group, watching the way everyone remained on guard and shooting suspicious looks to her and each other.

Kinger sat down like all of this was normal though, and that seemed to put the group a little at ease.

They played, and over time the tension eased. For a while Daisy was quiet, and everyone seemed to be holding their breath when Gangle played a +2 on her and she was forced to take two cards, but she just grinned through it, giving an untroubled "nice one, Ribbons" as she took from the deck.

From there things only got better. The game continued and she started making small jokes and comments, never hurtful.

And at once point she and Pomni ended up forming somewhat of an alliance, working to ensure that Zooble wasn't able to place their finals cards down as it became clear the mismatched character was close to winning. There was still a lot for her and Pomni to work out, but the way Pomni's wariness turned into a relaxed ease gave Daisy a lot of hope.

And then Gangle won.

She put down her final card and after a moment everyone looked to Daisy, and all she did was give a small laugh.

"Huh. Okay then. Wait… was this you and Zooble's plan the whole time? Get me and Pomni focused on them so you could come in and steal the crown?"

There is no real accusation in her tone, just amusement, and the lack of any threat seems to make Gangle give a shaky, mischevious smile.

"Maybe…"

Daisy laughs again, and looks around to see the way most of the suspicion surrounding her presence has disappeared. They didn't outright kick her out, and when she wasn't outright tormenting them they seemed more willing to have her around…

"I, uh, actually wanted to say something." Daisy starts, sitting up a bit more. She can see Kinger shoot her an encouraging look out of the corner of her eye and that makes her relax a bit more.

The seriousness of her tone seems to take the others by surprise, but that doesn't stop her from continuing.

"I- uh- sh—t, this is hard, give me a second." She looks down at her lap for a moment before taking a breath.

"Ja-"

"I've been thinking… a lot." She continues, cutting Ragatha off because even though she knows the ragdoll is likely trying to help, the sound of that name only propels her to keep moving forward. "And I know- I know I've been a real piece of sh—t to all of you. And I know nothing I say can excuse that." There is a look of shock in the group's faces, because none of them probably ever thought Jax would be saying all this stuff. "But I wanted to say, I think-" no, wait- "I know that I'm actually a girl, and uh… yeah…"

She really should have planned that out better.

Everyone just looks at her for a moment, as if processing everything she just said, and her heart is beating so fast.

And then…

"Oh, okay. Thanks for letting us know." Pomni says, a welcoming smile on her face. "Did you, uh… want to go by a different name? Or like… pronouns?"

Everyone just looks at her for some kind of response, and Daisy can't help but feel so fucking grateful.

"Uh… she/her pronouns? And…" God, nobody better laugh. "And I've been thinking about going by 'Daisy.'"

There is a flicker of surprise in Pomni's eyes for a moment before her smile brightens.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Daisy." Ragatha says with a smile, the shock on her face fading as she works to make it clear in her own Ragatha-way that she accepts her.

"Y-yeah! It's pretty!" Gangle adds in with a nod, leaving just Zooble who…

"It suits you." They say with a nod, before continuing. "I'm glad you finally figured this out for yourself. I know it can be hard. And hopefully now you'll stop being as much of a d—k."

Daisy just laughs.

"Oh, no promises Zoobie," she says, as if she hasn't spent the last night, hell, the last week even, being significantly less antagonistic than she has been in the past. She is still 100% a little shit, but some of the sharp edges have definitely softened out, and things have gone to being more witty and humorous than flat out cruel.

Kinger's giant, floating hands suddenly wrap around them, bringing them all into a hug.

"This is all so great!" He joyfully exclaims, making his happiness for the situation known.

"I love my four daughters and my Zooble." The chesspiece says and, you know what? His four daughters and his Zooble may love him too.