Chapter Text
There were many downsides to being a cartoon character.
Not being able to take off his clothes was among the more annoying ones. Then again, even if he could, it was no reason to, what with the fact he was Barbie-smooth underneath his overalls, something he'd learned from the maid outfit incident. That was one of the few upsides of the whole shitshow, alongside not needing to use the bathroom anymore. You'd think that having his junk yoinked would distress him, considering that was how the others had reacted to their newfound universe-mandated asexuality. But for some, oddly enough, it hadn't bothered him all that much.
It did feel a tad weird for there to be nothing between his legs, but he wouldn't say that it felt wrong. It was soothing, even, though he tried to avoid those kinds of thoughts. After all, the other upside to being a Walmart-brand Bugs Bunny was not being forced to deal with stupid human shit like feelings and insecurities. All he had to do was crack jokes, pull pranks, and perform his role to perfection. Sure, he could have clung to his humanity as countless before him had, but look at how that worked out; he was alive; they weren't.
That's how he knew he had the right idea pushing Pomni away. Emotions, both negative and positive, were IED's that could explode at any moment. His little hissy fit at the award ceremony was proof of that. If he had waited any longer, he would have become too fond of her, or worse, she’d have gotten too close to him. Once that happened, abstraction was a forgone conclusion, be it his or hers. He could see in his mind the exact order it would all play out. They'd get closer, she would stumble across something vulnerable, and he'd lash out. From there, it was a coin toss as to which of them would abstract. But it would happen no matter what; it was as inevitable as the sun rising in the east and calling you a slur.
So he did what he did best. He ruined a friendship. And even as he cried himself to sleep, even as he cursed his own birth, he was glad he did it. Because he’d saved her from being dragged down to the basement. He could sense that she was the same as him when it came to getting attached to people. Yesterday he had given her advice and even revealed his phobia. She had played along with his ridiculous archetype nonsense just to humor him. He was somewhat honest with her, and she put in the work to try and understand him. Honesty and understanding were a path to the circus's only cardinal sin: connection. So severed the sprout and salted the earth with a single blow, quick and clean. Okay, more slow and excruciating, but still. What mattered was that it was over; he did the right thing, the difficult thing, and all he could do was hope that someday she would see that what he did to—no, for her—was a favor. Maybe this experience would keep her from meeting Ribbit’s fate. God, he hoped so.
He climbed out of bed, groaning in pain like the animal he was. Sleeping was among the few pleasures this world neglected to ruin, so missing out on it was about the third worst punishment that could be inflicted on you, behind abstracting and showing up there at all. He drug his exhausted form towards the kitchen, somehow feeling even shittier than usual, which was saying a lot.
Zooble and Gangle chatted about something he was much too groggy to focus on as he trudged in. Those two annoyed him most, rubbing their relationship in his face. There was a dark part of him that wished he could derive some sick, vindictive solace in the knowledge that sooner or later, one of them would die and abandon the other, but alas, he had a soul, or at very least a crude facsimile, so the thought just depressed him further. Why haven't they figured out that all they were doing was setting each other and themselves up for heartbreak when everything fell apart?
He decided eavesdropping on their conversation was as wise a way to spend his limitless time as any. He poured a cup of digital coffee, which for some reason tasted terrible in new and unique ways.
"For manhwa, my favorite is 'Our Sunny Days.' It's got great pacing, and the baby is straight up adorable," Zooble offered with a relaxed timbre as they used their own arm as a back scratcher.
"Oh, I read that one too! Personally, I really love the BJ Alex side story! I relate to Kim Myung-dae so much.” Gangle rambled as Jax choked on the godawful drink he'd just finished making. Holy FUCK, she was so much freakier than he had even considered possible. He yearned to mock her with every fiber of his being, but thanks to a determination that bordered on the inhuman, he managed to ignore the demons. The last thing he wanted was for them to find out that not only was he aware of what BL was, but he was such an expert on the subject that he could accurately roast Gangle's dogshit opinions on them.
“A-anyway, Zooble, it’s been fun! Talk to you in a bit!” She squeaked before fleeing at the sight of the rabbit's grimace.
Under normal circumstances, he would have chased her down and broken her mask or made some reference to that Ragatha figurine she kept in that jar in her room, but the tiredness robbed him of the energy necessary for that, so instead he just watched with bemusement as she scrambled like a bunch of confetti in a hurricane.
It was in that very instant that a downright diabolical plot manifested in his brain and whispered to him in a scheming, seductive manner. He sauntered over to the jumbled enby, who, in turn, glared at him with annoyance and contempt.
“FYI, 'Our Sunny Days' is mediocre as hell. "Taming the Tiger," "4 Week Lovers," and "Low Tide in Twilight" beat it in every category that matters," he stated with a casual tenor, as if it were the most natural statement in history.
Zooble gagged on thin air. If they had had a jaw, it would have dropped, both in offense at the sheer audacity of the statements and in shock at the person stating them.
“I know what you must be thinking: ‘Why would he tell me this? What mental lapse could compel him to give me such premium blackmail material?' Well, I’ll let you in on a secret, discount Pyramid Head, the reason I'm telling you this is because they. Will never. Believe you.” He taunted, enunciating every syllable with an agonizing, self-satisfied smugness so rancid and virulent it could peel paint, curdle milk, and rot plastic as he flashed a Cheshire grin so wide it could swallow a schoolbus. He traipsed back to his room, satisfaction welling in his chest at managing to get them on the back foot.
The sweet taste of victory embittered on his tongue as he spotted a familiar ragdoll loitering outside his quarters. The hare grimaced with deep irritation before she could even speak. He hated her more than any of the others in the simulation. She insisted on facilitating relationships, which was tantamount to attempted homicide from his perspective. He loathed how she failed to realize that when she abstracted, the entire goddamn circus would come with her. Gangle was first on the chopping block, and with Gangle gone, Zooble wouldn't last a day. To Kinger, Rags was, for all intents and purposes, his daughter, so he’d follow after. Pomni was friends with the chess piece, meaning she’d be next.
In the end, it’d just be him and the ringmaster, alone for who knows how long. She was the epitome of selfishness. She needed them all to like her, so she was going to bring everyone down with her. And she had the gall to accuse him of trying to kill his own friend?! Couldn't she see that he was the only one actually helping them all survive? He'd done all that he could to make certain that when he got sent to the darkness, nobody would care enough to be pulled down with him. That was the only real kindness anyone could offer in this place.
Ragatha walked up to him, her visage filled with concern. “Hey, have you seen Pomni? She didn’t have breakfast…” She asked, anxiety permeating her tone. A pit formed in his stomach as a chill ran down his spine. But, with a herculean effort, he maintained his disguise.
“Relax, dollface, I bet she's just pouting about failing to plumb my hidden depths or whatever, but if it’ll stop your whining at me, then I’ll check on her,” he said with an exaggerated sigh as his blood chilled in his veins.
He walked over to her door, the doll right beside him. The pit deepened as she didn't respond to his knocking. He mustered all his will to keep himself from shaking as he took out her room key and unlocked it. He sent out a psychic thank-you to the circus for giving him a body that hid his clammy sweat with thick fur. It swung open, revealing the clown girl, wrapped up safe and sound in her blankets, snoring like a bear. The leveret's expression betrayed him, as he felt as though his death sentence had just been commuted.
As he looked closely, he saw the jester's bloodshot eyes. She'd been up crying all night. That was why she had slept in so late. The guilt and the relief fought a strange battle in Jax’s heart as he lamented not trying harder to make her hate him earlier. He shouldn't have allowed it to get as far as it had; he should have shut it down before it even began back in the McDonald's. He turned to leave but stopped as he saw the redhead looking at him with that pitiable expression. His gaze hardened as he tripled down on his facade.
“What a shame, and here I was hoping to see a big scary clown monster. Now THAT would be funny, right Rags?” He asked with a cruel, sadistic laugh as Ragatha continued to stare through him with pity in her eyes before leaving in silence.
That was another thing he disliked about her; she was always too good at seeing through him. Just as he was about to go back to his room, there was a loud snapping sound as Caine teleported everyone to the middle of the circus without their consent. Pomni yelped in fright as she slapped against the reflective checkerboard floor like a stickyhand. Jax avoided looking at her as the ringmaster awaited their attention, manic smile and all.
“Today I’m Pulling Out All The Stops!! This Adventure Is Called Tomb Raider!!!” He exclaimed, grandiosity in his every movement as he floated above them.
“…Isn’t that trademarked?” The sleepy harlequin inquired, hesitancy and grogginess fighting tooth and nail for prominence in her tone.
The floating dentures glitched out for a second before all his model reset to a T-pose. “This Adventure Is Called Pyramid Raider!”