Chapter Text
The following days were... hectic.
Little by little, Jax felt himself settling into this being his new reality, well, "settling" was a stretch. It was more like his body accepting that this was the new routine. No more waking up for work, just waking up into an explosion of colors. If he thought about it too much, he'd get another headache—if that was even possible there.
That day, Caine announced they could take some time off, since he apparently had to plan an awards ceremony. To pass the time, Jax had arranged to meet Ribbit near the common area behind a cluster of blocks. She'd said she had something very interesting to show him, something she'd gotten during the last adventure.
But as he was walking there, minding his own business, a voice called out to him. He turned to find the rag doll face to face.
"Oh, hey, Raggy. What's up?"
"Hey Jax, everything's... fine," she said, stepping closer. "I was actually hoping we could talk."
Jax glanced in the direction he'd been heading. "I don't know if now's—"
"It will just be a moment," she clarified.
He eventually shrugged and followed her toward her room.
He hadn't been there in a couple of weeks. They didn't have those talks anymore like they had when he first arrived. Still, it was nice being in a room that wasn't an explosion of childish chaos like his own.
He sat on the edge of her bed; she did the same.
"So. What did you want to talk about?"
"How are you feeling? In the circus, I mean."
"Fine... I guess as fine as you can be," he muttered. He'd thought this would be quick.
"I'm glad to hear that. But I've noticed you've gotten pretty close to Ribbit lately."
"Yeah, well, she's not lame," he said with a short laugh, though he immediately realized how that sounded. "Not saying you are."
Ragatha froze for a second before forcing a small smile.
"It's okay. I get it. I understand how it can seem fun, running around and... doing whatever you want," she said, and he nodded. "Believe me, I do. Especially in a place like this, where having no rules can seem easy."
Jax raised an eyebrow at that. He didn't quite like her tone. More than that... It felt unfamiliar. Like she was testing something. Still, he let her continue.
"But we still need them. I don't mean written rules or anything, I mean rules for ourselves." she clarified, placing a hand over her chest. "As fun as it might seem to hang around Ribbit and go along with her, she tends to take things too far, and then..." She trailed off, trying to rephrase, searching for safer, new words. "She just... she can't help it. She's going through... a phase. That's why we have to keep some distance."
"What are you trying to say? That I should stay away from her?"
"No, no, of course not. I'm just saying that I know it's easy to follow her lead, and I know she can be persuasive. But she'll get bored eventually. You don't have to play along. You can choose who you want to be here," Ragatha said, offering him a warm smile. "I know arriving here and adapting is hard. But you'll be okay. Just give this place time."
Jax blinked. Then blinked again, completely thrown off by what he was hearing.
Wasn't this the same woman made of cupcakes and unicorns, always saying everyone was equally appreciated? And now she was talking behind her so-called friend's back, the same friend Ribbit herself had labeled as such.
And why did Ragatha think she could tell him what to do?
He had just been apparently sentenced to spend the rest of his existence in a digital circus. He would decide how to live the rest of his animated, miserable life. No one got to set limits for him or imply he was easily manipulated.
Though he understood, vaguely, where she was going with this. And at the same time, he didn't.
Or at least didn't want to.
"I have to go," he said abruptly, standing and heading for the door.
"Jax," she called, stopping him. "What do you think about what I said?"
The purple rabbit didn't turn around. One hand still on the doorknob, he had to take a breath.
"Bye, Ragatha. See you around. I told you I was in a bit of a hurry."
And with that, he left the room.
God. If there was one thing that would never change—even outside the real world—it was how fake people could be. Always wearing masks.
He stomped off toward where he'd agreed to meet the frog. After disappearing behind a few potted plants, he let out a heavy sigh.
"Ribbit!" he called out. "Where the hell are—"
"Watch out!" a voice shouted as a giant plant pot came crashing down toward him. The warning was useless, but at least his reflexes were good enough to dodge it in time.
He looked up to see the frog hanging from a block with a huge grin on her face.
"Sh*t," he muttered, dragging a hand down his face in exasperation as her laughter rang out at his reaction.
"Took you long enough," she said, dropping down beside him.
"Do you actually have something to show me, or are you just going to annoy me?"
"Wow, someone's in a bad mood," she said, genuinely surprised to see him like this because she knew first hand she hadn't done anything to piss him... Yet.
Jax just huffed, looking away, visibly frustrated. Ribbit gave him a longer, curious look before letting out a determined little laugh.
"Follow me."
They walked through the circus hallways, and Jax decided to at least explain himself. The frog seemed like the type who'd drag things out of people one way or another. He didn't want to test her. Not again.
"It's just... Ragatha wanted to talk about... some nonsense."
Ribbit raised an eyebrow at that but kept her eyes forward.
"She gave you a talk, huh? It's her thing, I guess. She's good at it."
"She's not exactly a fan of us hanging out."
Ribbit let out a laugh as they kept walking. "Oh my god, sometimes she can be hilarious.... What, does she think I'm trying to corrupt you or something? I honestly see it more going the other way around."
"Something stupid like that," Jax said, rolling his eyes. "I just don't love being told what to do as if I were a kid."
Ribbit stopped walking and turned to look at him.
"Want to get back at her? I know she hates centipedes," she said, her mischievous grin and raised eyebrow giving away that she had a plan. But before he could answer, she burst into a loud laugh ""Ha! I remember at my birthday party there used to be this guy, and with him we—.... and she was so—" She clutched her stomach, cracking up at the memory, unable to keep talking. After a few seconds, she finally composed herself, her expression shifting to a more serious one as she looked at him. "But honestly? She's a really good person. She helped you when you first got here, didn't she?" He just nodded. "She has this way of making you feel... appreciated."
Jax stared at her for a moment, then finally rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue.
"Jesus... Just keep walking, Ribbit, I can't get past your massive closet."
"You're such a dingus," she mumbled in response, turning around and continuing to walk, weaving through the circus structures without looking back. Finally, they pushed through one last tattered curtain and stepped outside the tent.
The circus "sky" stretched above them like an immense dome: fake and perfect. Dark, deep, scattered with stars.
They walked a few meters until he watched her just... plop down onto the ground.
"Ta-da!" Ribbit announced, spreading their arms wide. "My favorite spot. Well, it used to be someone else's, but it hasn't had visitors in a while. Better with two."
Jax frowned.
"You dragged me outside just to look at this fake ceiling?"
"Shhh," she interrupted, raising a finger.
She let herself fall backward onto the ground with complete confidence, hands folded behind her head. The impact sounded hollow, but she didn't even flinch.
Jax hesitated for a second. Looked around, like he expected something to jump out of the shadows just to mess with him. Since nothing did, with tired sigh, he dropped down beside her, a bit more stiffly, arms at his sides, ears pressed flat against the ground.
Then Ribbit reached into her bag and pulled out a sauce bottle that immediately caught his attention. He quickly recognized it as one from their last adventure, where they'd had a big feast for saving the day.
"We're gonna eat something?"
"Sort of. I've got an idea," she said, that sly grin of hers promising something big. No matter how many times she smiled like that, it always meant the day would be something different.
She held out the sauce bottle, and he propped himself up on his elbows to get a better look, though still warily.
"I feel like this isn't a good idea," Jax said, but still with a smile that matched hers.
"Kinda disagree..." They paused. "Not like it's gonna kill us. Nothing does.”
So Jax unscrewed the lid of the bottle she was holding.
"To your health, then."
It was a matter of seconds. The colors around them seemed to move with a slight delay The ground felt soft. The noise of the place, that stupid noise that was always somehow in the circus and he seemed to be the only one perceiving it, since apparently everyone else had gotten used to it, finally that noise stopped being annoying and became... interesting. Bearable. Even fun.
Ribbit let out a laugh she didn't recognize as her own.
"Oh," she said. "Oh, this is—"
She fell silent, breathing deeply.
For a moment, everything inside her was still. At least for a moment in what had seemed like an eternity of constant chaos.
"Wow, didn't think it'd hit this fast," he said, looking around with now dilated pupils.
"Me neither. I was totally winging it," Ribbit said, her gaze just as far away as his. She stopped propping herself up and let her head fall back, staring upward, focusing on whatever other effects the sauce might bring. Everything was moving. Everything had a different kind of life now—not the circus kind. But what felt like real life.
"Look at them... they are so beautiful." She whispered.
So he did. The stars were shining brightly, so brightly, that it stung his eyes but he forced himself to keep watching. And in that blinding brilliance, he finally saw it: a living canvas, a starry night painted just for them. He could see its beauty.
But still, they were too perfect to be real.
He understood then. Understood how for people who had been there for years, that could be the most beautiful thing in the world.
Because what else could be?
"Do you like stars, Jax?"
She only got silence in return, which she accepted until she felt his gaze on her. It was so intense that no drug in the world could make her ignore it. Everything inside her prickled.
"What?"
"You look like a frog."
"Shocking news."
"No, I mean like... an actual frog," he said, eyes widening even more. "Maybe a little like Kermit."
Ribbit turned their neck to look at him.
"Holy sh*t, you look exactly like a rabbit. An actual rabbit," she exclaimed. They both burst into laughter. "God, I missed this so much. Didn't remember it made the noise stop."
"Tell me about it."
They both just lay there in silence, watching the sky, watching the stars. For the first time, Jax felt like this strange place actually made sense, even if it was through that particular lens.
The silence was interrupted by Ribbit suddenly sitting up and shifting position, her head now at the opposite end. Jax quickly propped himself up to look at her since every movement and sound felt heightened under the effects.
"Ah... this is good," she whispered, eyes still fixed on the sky.
Jax shrugged and mirrored her position. Well, maybe everything did look better upside down.
"You're right," he murmured with a dopey smile.
"Am I ever wrong?"
"Don't get used to it, kid."
Ribbit laughed again, softer this time. She kept staring upward, arms spread out like she might fall into the sky.
"Kid? Your voice sounds exactly like the idiots who asked me to prom. You can't be that much older than me."
"Prom?" Jax let out a scoff, ignoring her assumption. "God, I can't believe you actually went to one of those things. You don't seem the type."
"I didn't actually get to go," she said, pressing her lips together, like she was brushing up against a memory. "I got stuck here like... a week before, I think. Right when I was about to get a taste of real-life freedom."
"Well, that sucks."
"Honestly, I probably wouldn't even have gone anyway. I used to prefer doing this kind of stuff and... just lying on the ground. On grass, on pavement... anywhere really."
Jax turned his head with some difficulty to look at her.
"Really?"
"Yeah." She bit her lip, still smiling. "I liked to watch the clouds and the ground gives you some perspective, I mean, ants would crawl on me and tickle, but..."
She paused.
"It was worth it. It was the only time my head would shut up without having to..." She trailed off, searching for the word, then let it go. "Without having to try so hard."
Jax didn't say anything. Didn't interrupt. That alone was unusual for him. Maybe it was the sauce, but there was something about Ribbit's tone that felt calming, or maybe it wasn't her tone, but what she was saying, and how real it felt.
"I really wanted to leave," she continued, with a softer laugh, almost wistful. "I even had a plan, but it was so stupid. Just... grab my backpack, go somewhere no one knew me, and actually start living my life. Stop being treated like a kid. Get away from my small town and everyone in it... Even if it meant working some crappy job or barely sleeping. I just wanted to see the world..." She let out a breath. "It's so ironic now. I'm stuck here forever."
He let out a deep sigh, and scratched the back of his neck.
"Well, for what it's worth, growing up sucks."
Curious, she turned her head slightly toward him so their eyes met.
"Did you ever have something like that? A ridiculous plan?"
Jax raised an eyebrow, snapping out of his haze.
"Me? No." He paused, exhaling. "Ridiculous plans are for optimistic people."
"Oh," she replied, darting her gaze from him and looking back up at the sky. "Then my plan definitely was doomed to failure."
They both laughed. Shorter this time, but more honest.
Ribbit closed her eyes.
"I think that's why I liked it, though." She added. "I wasn't happy, but... I could imagine being happy. That counted for something."
The silence returned, but it didn't feel heavy. The sauce softened everything, like the world was wrapped in cotton.
Jax looked at the ceiling again.
"I guess it doesn't sound that stupid when you put it that way," he admitted.
Ribbit smiled, eyes still closed.
"Was that a compliment? I knew I'd crack you open one of these days."
"Don't get excited, Kermit," he shot back. "It's just the effect."
"Yeah, sure. It always is."
But her foot, for the first time since she'd arrived here, stayed still for more than two seconds. And that definitely counted for something.
"Why do you avoid talking about yourself so much?"
"Because my business is my business," he answered automatically.
"Your business is kind of everyone's business now, dude."
Jax let out a short, nasal laugh at that.
"That's not how it works."
"Are you sure?"
Jax didn't reply, just closed his eyes too, If only for a moment he let himself imagine that there were no judging eyes on him. Here or anywhere else. Wasn't that a nice thought? If even for a moment in the darkness of his mind.
"Nothing here works how it's supposed to," Ribbit added, eyes still closed. "That's kind of the point."
The silence stretched. The ground was still uncomfortably comfortable. His chest rose and fell slower than usual.
"Talking about myself has never done much good," he finally said, no defensiveness in his tone. Just tired. "People listen... and then they decide what to do with it."
She opened one eye to look at him, interested, but said nothing.
"Some people use it," he continued. "Others get bored. Others leave when they don't like what they see." He sighed. "Everyone leaves, actually."
He said it like someone stating a basic rule. No drama at all.
"So... why give them more?"
Why give them more when they're just going to leave me with my heart hanging out? Jax thought, over and over again for a thousand and one nights.
"So you think it's easier to just be... the usual you," Ribbit whispered, but loud enough for him to hear.
Jax opened his eyes and glanced at her sideways.
"Because the usual me is safe."
"But it's exhausting," she added softly.
Jax didn't answer right away. He just looked at the ceiling again. That fake view that will never be able to replicate the actual beauty of the real stars.
"I don't like depending on anyone," he admitted. "It never ends well."
Ribbit smiled faintly.
"That's a shame," they said. "I was just starting to find you pretty tolerable."
He turned to look at her, slightly surprised, and she stared back intently.
"Shut up," he shot back, elbowing her.
"I'm serious. And if it helps, I can't actually go anywhere. So no matter what you say, you'll always have me here... you're stuck with me."
Jax didn't admit it out loud. But he admitted it to himself: for the first time in a long time—including before the circus—he felt... good. He felt good with someone.
But at the same time, the realization hit him:
"God, this really is forever."