Archive of Our Own

The cartoon censor does not belong in the quiet sincerity of the moment, and maybe that’s why when Jax sniffs it almost sounds like a laugh. “This is embarrassing.”

Ribbit thinks, for a moment, about the story she’s just heard. She compares it to the one she laid out as an offering, and then—oh. Well. Then Ribbit makes a guess.

The bow used to feel like it was mocking them. Like the circus heard Ribbit tell their parents they weren’t straight, they weren’t cis, they weren’t anything that was allowed, and went sure, fine. You want to be a man? Act like it.

And she doesn’t. She isn’t. But people like Ribbit can still wear bow ties, and over time it’s felt like less of a joke and more…sincere. It’s gender expression, at least. Not many people get to have that here.

Jax doesn’t.

Ribbit removes their bow (because it was always removable, it was always an option, they’ve always had that choice) and reaches up to set it against one of Jax’s ears. It attaches itself instantly. Circus magnets, or something. Accessory recognizing avatar.

Ribbit hasn’t had many opportunities to be glad for their cartoon forms, but this is one. Because her bow is so easily given, and because of how obviously Jax’s eyes dilate at the sight of it.

Jax looks…radiant.    

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Ribbit says quietly, and Jax stares at them like they’re…like they’re something special. Something to marvel at.

Jax ducks her head, still staring at Ribbit out of the corners of her eyes, and for a long, long moment, they just look at each other.

Ribbit is smiling. They can’t help it.

Jax is smiling too, just a little. She doesn’t look like she can help it either.

Shit, Ribbit thinks faintly. (In her mind, she can still curse. She kind of wonders how long that will last.) Is this…is this something?

(In another universe, Kaufmo knocks, and the universe answers Ribbit’s unspoken question with a resounding NO. In another universe, the only thing this starts is her death.)

(But in this one…well, who knows? Maybe Kaufmo is taking a nap. Maybe he was distracted, by Caine or Ragatha or Kinger. Maybe he doesn’t think to check Ribbit’s room, maybe he assumes his friends are somewhere else in the circus, maybe he moves to knock anyway but catches, just barely, something that almost sounds like a sob, and he steps back.)

(Kaufmo doesn’t knock.)

Jax says, “Thank you.”

“Not to be lame, or anything,” Ribbit says. “But if we both had to be stuck here…I’m glad we’re here together.”

“Aw, gross,” Jax whines, and then they’re both laughing and Jax is still crying but Ribbit pretends not to notice, and the conversation ends there but instead of running Jax jumps on Ribbit and they roll around on the bed, bow not budging from her ear, and Ribbit play-fights until they gets bored of it and tuck in their limbs, pretending to pin Jax to the bed but really just making themself comfortable laying on her chest.

“Oh, really?”

“If we’re sleeping, Caine can’t get us.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works.”

“Mm, you are pretty.”

“Ribbit,” Jax whispers.

“You are,” they whisper back. They prop up their chin on her chest and it’s a testament to how serious she is that she doesn’t immediately shove them off.

“Don’t lie to me,” she insists. “I’m—I’m a cartoon rabbit, I’m creepy, I’m funny, I’m bendy, I’m not—I can’t be pretty. No one could possibly find this—“

“For all you know, I’m into really weird p$&n,” Ribbit says pleasantly, and Jax chokes out a sort of startled laugh. “Don’t judge me.”

When Jax finally replies, much, much later, it’s still watery. “I would never,” she says, and it sounds like a promise.

Jax leaves eventually. Instead of yanking the bow off and tossing it at the floor, she carefully removes it and reattaches it to Ribbit’s chest. “I don’t—I can’t,” she mumbles, and Ribbit smiles at her, reaching for her hand.

“It’s okay,” she says. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

“What if I’m never ready, huh?”

“You told me, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t,” Jax groans.

“You implied it, and I’m very good at guessing,” Ribbit amends. “You can practice on me, then.”

“Ribbit, I mean it,” she says. She’s smiling but it’s strained. “Never.”

“Okay,” she says simply. Jax stares at her. She fiddles with her bow, making sure it’s properly secured.

“Ribbit?” Jax says eventually.

“Mhm?”

“I’m trans.”

“So am I,” they say cheerfully, “kind of. Thank you for telling me this, Jax. I promise I won’t betray your trust.”

In another universe, Jax’s last words to them are a threat. In this, they’re, “Thanks, frogspawn,” tossed over her shoulder as she leaves, minus the bow and with all her normal cocky swagger. Ribbit misses her as soon as she closes the door.

Wait.

What?

Really?

“Oh,” they say to themself. “Uh. F$&k.”

She sees Jax later, when she and Ragatha are sitting on one of the couches, waiting for everyone to show up so Caine can explain the adventures. Jax is walking up with Kaufmo, rolling her eyes at whatever joke the clown is eagerly feeding her, and she freezes a little when she sees Ribbit talking to Ragatha, their heads bent close together.

Ribbit sees Ragatha look up, knows automatically who it is just from the two sets of footsteps, and jerks her head around. “Hey, dummies!” she calls, and Kaufmo provides a responding retort while Jax gives her a squinty-eyed look and she tries her best to convey relax, you can trust me.

(In another universe, it doesn’t work. Jax is on edge, apprehensive, feathers rustled from the earlier close call. Jax dismisses them and they turn it into a chase and Jax fights back and they fade away and and and and)

And Jax’s eyes widen.

Then she smiles.

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, picking up on the remnants of a joke she never started. “What’s taking so long? I wanna shoot something already!”

“Then you’re in luck, Jax!” Caine announces joyfully, popping out of nowhere. Kaufmo slides into the seat next to Ragatha, and Jax jumps over the back of Ribbit’s couch for no real reason and falls onto their feet. “Because today, we’re going to be…drumroll, please, Bubble!”

Bubble, who was not present a second ago, bangs itself onto a drum, which was also not present a second ago. Ribbit pulls their feet free, Jax almost falls over the couch and ends up laying on them for revenge/stability. Ribbit just pats her on the head.

“Wait, where’s Kinger?” Caine demands, cutting himself off, and then he vanishes once more. Bubble hits the drum, goes ricocheting off, hits something else and flies back at a slightly differently angle, and then hits a wall and pops.

“This is gonna take forever,” Jax groans into the side of Ribbit’s stomach.

“Kinger’s…right here,” Ragatha says awkwardly. Kinger pops up from between the cushions on the unoccupied loveseat.

“Hello!” he calls pleasantly.

“Well, Caine is sure to find him if the ice-cream truck goes by!” Kaufmo tries valiantly. They all look at him. “No?”

“No, buddy,” Ribbit tells him.

“How old are you?” Jax wonders in a muffled voice.

“Oh, shut up,” Kaufmo mutters.

It’s better this way, isn’t it?

They grow closer.

They were always close, Jax has always felt like the partner Ribbit never realized she was missing. She thinks of hearing a joke and twisting in her seat, eyes scanning empty space before they settled on Kaufmo and she did her best to not look startled. She thinks of lying awake at night, longing to get up and find someone but not knowing who she wanted.

(She’s always wanted a best friend.)

In group adventures, they revolve around each other. When they’re in-house, they grab Kaufmo and drag him to whatever base they’ve set up. When the game requires partners, Jax doesn’t even ask before ambling over to Ribbit’s side, and they never expect her to.

They grow closer, and Jax drifts away from Kaufmo a bit, and Ribbit isn’t too surprised because she remembers being closeted, remembers how as soon as someone knows it becomes impossible to ignore how no one else does. She isn’t surprised Jax drifts to her like a moth to a flame, now that she knows.

(That’s all it is. They know that. Jax is clinging to them because they know her secret and she’s relishing in the feeling of being understood, at least a little bit. It’s not…anything else.)

(Okay, maybe it’s a little bit to make sure they don’t say anything. Jax really isn’t subtle about her trust issues, but Ribbit hopes she’ll get better once some time has passed and Ribbit still hasn’t told anyone.)

Ribbit is kind of worried about Kaufmo, though, so when Arctic Exploration: Attack of The Cannibal Penguins! comes up and Jax leans over her shoulder, she leans back and whispers, “Go with Ragatha this time?”

“Uh,” Jax says.

“I want to make sure Kaufmo’s okay,” they tell her quickly. “It’s okay. Just a little break from me, yeah?”

It’s the wrong thing to say, they can tell that instantly, but Jax doesn’t let them get more than a glimpse of her vulnerability. “Sure, jerk, nice way to say you can’t keep up with me,” she retorts, and Ribbit almost calls after her but bites their tongue. Nothing good is going to come of an earnest attempt at conversation in front of other people. “Hey, Rags, you with me?”

“Oh!” Ragatha says, clearly shocked, but thankfully she’s much too polite to ask. “Sure! Sounds like fun, Jax!”

“What’s up with him?” Kaufmo asks Ribbit quietly, and she shakes her head. From across the stage, she sees Jax shoot her a nervous look, then duck her head when she realizes she’s been spotted. Ribbit…maybe should’ve brought this up earlier.

“Nothing,” she sighs. “Just missed you, Kaufy. What, you don’t want to hang?”

“No…” Kaufmo says slowly, but he’s never been all that stubborn, and when the portal appears behind them, he doesn’t bother pushing further. He follows Ribbit through, and when they’re spit out onto a slowly cliffside, the two of them are alone.

“Guess the g—“ Ribbit cuts herself off. “Guess they’re somewhere else.”

“Caine didn’t mention that,” Kaufmo points out. “Just navigate across the mountains, reach the scientists’ base, retrieve the last non-cannibalistic penguin eggs, and get back to…wait, where are we going?”

“He just said get back,” Ribbit says slowly. “Ah, great. Okay. Let’s go steal some eggs.”

“You know what would be funny?” Kaufmo asks eagerly, as they start to walk in what Ribbit thinks is a downward direction. “If we found cannibal eggs, got there before Jax and Ragatha, took the real eggs and left the cannibal eggs, and made it look like we were never there!”

“I don’t think we’re supposed to fight each other,” Ribbit says slowly, even though the plan does appeal to them. Kaufmo and Ribbit pulled a few pranks on the others, back before Jax was around, but Ragatha and Kinger were never the right sort of audience for that and it just ended up feeling mean. (Even if Ragatha was nice enough to laugh.) Jax, though…Jax would just retaliate.

“Why else are we partnered off?” Kaufmo reasons.

“Alright,” Ribbit relents easily. The two of them exchange a grin. “Jax is gonna make us pay.”

“If all goes well,” Kaufmo agrees. They make idle conversation as they trek down the mountain, neither completely sure they’re going the right way, but it isn’t like it really matters. Kaufmo still seems a little wary of her, and the guilt throbs in her chest like a bad heart, but by the time they’re mostly ground level he seems happier. More excited.

They pass a few groups of cannibalistic penguins, which look much the same as normal penguins except for their bloody beaks and the occasional half-eaten penguin corpse lying about. Kaufmo spots one that seems to be sitting on an egg, and Ribbit elects him to pull one of the dead penguins a little closer.

“Dude,” he complains, as Ribbit slowly approaches the penguin.

“Your idea, clown boy,” she says cheerfully. “Plus, you’ve got gloves.”

“On my avatar,” Kaufmo groans, but he reluctantly pulls a few pieces of digital flesh off the penguin’s wings and tosses them to the nesting penguin. She goes for it immediately, as Ribbit had figured she would. Caine clearly programmed the penguins to eat any other penguin within a certain radius, as shown by the careful distance between each living penguin in a cluster. Ribbit is guessing she’ll retreat when she’s finished eating, but that gives them enough time to dart forward and scoop four large, red eggs out of the pebble nest.

“Run!” they shriek, just to be safe, and Kaufmo sprints away, Ribbit close behind him. Once the penguins are out of sight, they slow, and Ribbit passes two of the eggs over.

“I don’t think Caine knows how penguins work,” Kaufmo comments.

“He definitely doesn’t,” Ribbit agrees. “Think it’s gonna give us away, that they’re red?”

“How do we know all the eggs aren’t red?” Kaufmo asks. They look at him. He looks back.

“Eh, what the heck,” Ribbit decides. “Which way should we try?”

“Logically, a base should be somewhere low, probably a safe distance from any groups of penguins, maybe built into a pre-existing cave or close to something for shelter,” Kaufmo says, talking more to himself than Ribbit as he glances around, shifting the eggs in his arms. Then he shrugs. “But it’s Caine, so…”

“There?” Ribbit suggests, pointing to the tallest mountain in sight.

“Yup.”

“Good enough for me.”

They walk on. The mountain in question provides them with a clear, flat path winding all the way up to the peak, which is another good sign. (To get off their spawn point, there’d been a fair bit of cartoon falling.)

“Hey, Ribbit?” Kaufmo asks as the two of them begin their ascent. So far, there’s been no sign of Jax or Ragatha, and Ribbit isn’t even sure Kinger joined this one, so that could be good or it could mean the others are ahead. There’s no footprints in the snow, but Ribbit and Kaufmo aren’t leaving a trail either.

“Yeah?” she responds.

“What’s going on with you and Jax? Is he…y’know, actually opening up to you?”

“I…” Ribbit sighs. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Okay,” Kaufmo says. When they glance over, he’s giving them a reassuring smile oddly reminiscent of the one they gave Jax earlier. “It’s good if he is, I won’t pry. He’s had a hard time adjusting.”

“Yeah,” Ribbit agrees, trying to hide her relief. “I really don’t mean to leave you out, I promise.”

“You’re allowed to have other friends, dummy,” Kaufmo teases. “I know you wouldn’t do that.”

“Good,” she says. She smiles back.

The things Ribbit knows about Kaufmo are…well, it isn’t much. She knows he’s older than her, she knows he’s a truck driver who hated spending so much time traveling and she knows he feels kind of stupid about it now, now that he can’t go anywhere. She knows he’s straight and cis but kissed a guy once when he was drunk. She knows he obsesses, he spirals, and then he tries desperately to prove that he’s fine while simultaneously hoping someone will call him out on it.

He’s a good guy. He’s there for her, and she tries her best to be there for him, and even if she doesn’t feel the same instant brain-click connection she does with Jax, he’s still a good friend of hers.

Kaufmo knows them too. Not as much as Jax does, not about their parents, but he stills knows them. He still trusts them, even more than Jax does, but they try not to hold that against her.

She’s trying. That’s enough.

(In another universe, she doesn’t.)

In what seems like both no time at all and forever (gotta love circus time) they reach the top of the mountain, where, built into the peak, are a set of thick metal doors that look straight out of an old-fashioned maximum security prison.

They’re also open.

“What do you think the chances are that Caine forgot to lock them?” Ribbit wonders out loud.

“Low,” Kaufmo says helpfully.

“Yeah,” Ribbit huffs. “I vote that if they’ve got the real eggs, we just throw these at them. The eggs are supposed to hatch as soon as they leave their…containment thing, right?”

“Worth a try,” Kaufmo says optimistically.

It is not worth a try.

The inside of the base resembles the inside of a tent, which Ribbit doesn’t bother trying to pick apart. Metal folding tables are scattered around, posters and shelves somehow attached to the curved walls, and various metal instruments are lying on piles of paper or on metal shelves. Ribbit notices a Bunsen burner, a scalpel, and a what may or may not be a bone saw. Okay. In the middle of the room, there’s a metal basin-like podium with a glass cover. Inside, under red lights, are four large white eggs. Ragatha is sorting through a pile of notebooks and Jax is trying to smash through the glass with a microscope. They both freeze when Ribbit and Kaufmo enter.

“It’s all in Norwegian,” Ragatha says slowly, after a few moments. Jax looks at the eggs, then Kaufmo, with a half-lidded scowl that clearly means really?

“It’s Dutch,” she corrects.

“Looks French,” Kaufmo says, shifting both eggs to one arm so he can pick up a stray paper.

“It might not be the same language?” Ribbit offers. Ragatha looks up again.

“Oh. Then…”

“There’s probably something in English. Or at least…anyone speak anything else?”

“I took Spanish in high school,” Kaufmo offers. He puts his eggs down. Ribbit puts their own eggs with them. Neither Jax nor Ragatha ask.

“So English,” Ribbit says. Kaufmo huffs, but he doesn’t actually argue, so she turns to pull a book off a nearby shelf. Jax starts to lower the microscope, Ragatha spins her chair back around, and Kaufmo kicks one of the red eggs.

An exaggerated cracking sound echoes through the room.

“Stop it, Jax,” Ragatha says, clearly distracted. Jax, Ribbit, and Kaufmo all stare at the egg, a long, clear line slowly growing and splintering, and then they look at each other.

Jax nods slowly, and Ribbit darts forward, scooping the egg into her hands as quietly as possible, and then she lobs it at the glass case as hard as she can.

The glass shatters, the eggs inside beginning to crack as soon as the red light flickers off, and a fully-grown cannibalistic penguin spawns out of the shell remnants and shrieks at the top of its lungs.

Ragatha tries to jump up, trips over the chair, and falls onto Kaufmo, Jax lunges for the eggs and then scrambles away once the cannibal penguin tries to go for her hands, and Ribbit hurries out of the tent-base.

Jax is right behind her.

(How? Jax was on the other side of the room, held back by the penguin. Ragatha and Kaufmo were much closer. How is Jax the one who emerges?)

(Why? She has no reason to believe Ribbit meant her to follow. There was no glance, no twitch of the fingers as indication. Why does Jax follow?)

(Maybe she can sense it, too. How important this moment once was. In another universe, spurred on by Jax’s reflexive violence, Kaufmo goes further and Jax and Ribbit end up toppling off the cliff together. They end up fighting. They end up talking.)

“What was that for?” Jax demands.

(I guess they talk in this one, too.)

“What?” Ribbit asks. “I didn’t want to throw it at Ragatha. She wasn’t playing.”

“Not that,” Jax snaps. “Why—I thought—what, so you’re finally realizing—“

“Stop,” they say. They’re still walking. Jax is still following. “I didn’t tell him. I wouldn’t.”

“I don’t know what to do with myself,” Jax says, sounding very small and very sad, and when Ribbit finally looks back she’s stopped walking. She just stands there, arms wrapped around herself.

It’s snowing. They’re a couple spirals down the mountain. Ribbit holds out a hand.

“I don’t know how to be like you,” Jax says miserably. She doesn’t move.

“Like me?” Ribbit asks.

“Queer,” Jax spits out. It’d sound like a slur, in different context. (It still kind of does.) “You’re so—I don’t know how to be like that, it makes me feel dirty even thinking about it, but I can’t stop. It makes me sick but so does everything and I don’t—I don’t know why I’m saying this, I shouldn’t, it’s—“

“I’m so…what?”

Ribbit’s voice wavers a bit on the last word, she hates to admit it but it does, and Jax looks up so fast she doesn’t have time to fix her face. “Beautiful,” she says, like she’s staring at a statue, a painting, a church. “Beautiful,” Jax says.

“Jax,” Ribbit says.

“I hate that name,” she admits, and then she slumps to the ground. Ribbit steps forward automatically, but Jax is fine; she’s sitting with her knees pressed to her chest and her arms wrapped around them, clearly defensive, but she’s fine.

“Is there something else I can call you?” Ribbit tries. They don’t get a response, but they take another step forward and lower themself to the ground, crossing their legs. “You’re not dirty.”

“It just sucks,” Jax says, very quietly. “We all talk about wanting to know our real names, but even if I did know mine, it’d be wrong.”

“Same,” Ribbit says. She doesn’t really know why, but Jax looks up, at least.

“I never changed it,” they explain after a moment. “I always meant to, I remember that, I hated my name, but I never made up my mind. So…you’re not alone there, if it helps.”

“Eh,” Jax mutters. “I want you to be happy.”

“Well,” Ribbit says. Their brain fails. They go with their default. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

Jax turns the same shade of pink she had when Ribbit placed the bow on her head. Thinking of that, looking at the wide-eyed wonder on her face as she stares at them, Ribbit’s hand goes automatically to their neck. They pull the bow free.

“Here,” she says, pressing it into Jax’s hands. “Keep it.”

“What?” Jax blusters, but there’s a ten second delay before she snaps out of her haze. “I can’t.”

“Caine resets our avatars after every adventure,” Ribbit reminds her. “No one will notice it missing. I’m not positive it won’t disappear, but as long as it doesn’t…I want you to have it.”

“You shouldn’t be encouraging me,” Jax sniffs, but her fingers close around the bow and she’s clutching it tightly.

“Do you think I’m dirty?” Ribbit asks. She tries to keep her voice light, her manner merely curious.

“No!” Jax says quickly. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“Then you aren’t either. Simple as that, bunny. Now c’mon. We need to get back to the others before someone comes after us.”

Jax gets to her feet. So does Ribbit. The bow disappears into a pocket and their hands brush as they walk back up the mountain, but neither says another word until they return to the entrance of the base.

“I wanted to make sure Kaufmo didn’t feel abandoned,” Ribbit says. “We’re very close, and I didn’t want him to be excluded. I should’ve told you beforehand, but I think we should break up for adventures a little more.”

“Okay,” is all Jax says. They fail the adventure, but Caine gives them all a spa day anyway, and Jax spends most of it picking at her face mask while Ribbit is just grateful they no longer have nails to paint. It’s not that fun, but it isn’t bad either.

Ribbit’s bow respawns. Judging from the way Jax keeps absently patting her chest pocket, she guesses there’s two of them, now.

It’s not a bad thought.

Time passes. It always does. Jax doesn’t tell anyone. She stops talking to Kaufmo as much, but she latches onto Ragatha, who seems a bit confused at first but welcomes Jax’s awkward attempts at friendship enthusiastically. Ribbit refuses to let go of Kaufmo and Jax refuses to let go of Ribbit (not like they’d let her, but in another universe, they don’t get a choice) and as a result the four of them become a real group. The five of them, really, because no one’s cruel enough to ostracize Kinger and Ragatha has always been close to him, and it’s not perfect but Ribbit kind of loves it, all of them together like this. Like they’re really friends, almost. Caine loves it too, because his adventures are a lot more fun with good company and nothing makes Caine happier than seeing them enjoying his adventures.

(Sometimes Jax is…off, kind of. She’s jumpy and aggressive and flinches whenever she’s addressed, and sometimes she sees them all sitting together and something in her face twists and Ribbit just knows she’s going to be mean, so they just move over to make another seat and look away, and nine times out of ten, Jax ends up next to them.)

One day, they’re clustered around the stage after a flood escape adventure, Ragatha and Jax sitting on the edge of the stage while Ribbit leans against Jax’s feet and Kaufmo sits cross-legged on the floor, craning his neck  up to make faces at Ragatha. Kinger has retreated to his pillow fortress, but it’s closer than usual, and Ribbit can tell he’s watching. She can also tell that Jax is looking at Kaufmo, not at her, but Jax’s hand is still resting on the back of Ribbit’s neck. Ribbit is still standing in between Jax’s legs, albeit sideways.

(She wonders if this is a secret too, this bit where sometimes Ribbit stands a bit too close and Jax holds her there, the bit where they fall asleep in each other’s rooms, the bit where sometimes they’re walking and their hands just…fall together. It might not be. As far as anyone else knows, Jax is a boy, but Ribbit has been very not-quiet about her queerness. Sure, she was a little vague about it—she/they pronouns, and I’m bisexual, instead of possibly graysexual, definitely omnisexual genderqueer person with a strong preference for women—and Jax might think it’s too risky to romantically tie herself with someone who has mentioned mostly liking women multiple times.)

(Ribbit is just guessing, though, since they’ve never actually talked about this, so for all she knows Jax is trying to indulge some girly-girl-bonding-time sleepover nonsense and Ribbit’s just reading way too much into it. Which would suck, both because Ribbit’s pretty sure she has what may or may not turn into an actual real-person crush on Jax, and because if even Jax still sees her as a girl, that’s…not a good feeling.)

(But she probably doesn’t. Ribbit is probably just overreacting. Maybe Jax just likes being around Ribbit, maybe that’s all it is.)

(Maybe.)

And then a new human appears.

Ribbit has only seen this twice before—Kaufmo, then Jax—but it follows a strange sort of ritual. The new person—a girl, or at least an afab person, judging by their voice—freaks out, Caine appears and gives a deeply inadequate explanation, Ragatha tries to comfort them and mostly fails, and the new person goes into some sort of nearly catatonic state while the whole name problem is solved. Usually the mirror part comes later, but this new arrival is mostly made of ribbon, with an old-fashioned comedy mask for a face, so they notice pretty quickly that they no longer have hands. It’s…rough. It always is.

(In another universe, Jax is meaner and unrestrained, and things are rougher. The mask ends up broken and the human ends up crying and Gangle is a title tacked onto a person like initals written in Sharpie on the bottom of an action figure’s foot.)

(In this one, it’s still rough. But it’s…better. Just a bit.)

Gangle is assigned a name by Caine’s giant spinner, which always had six slots until it didn’t, and she panics pretty much nonstop for the first few weeks but when the others finally manage to introduce themselves to her, Ribbit’s she/they pronouns, by the way, makes her pause, and they can tell Jax is bristling besides them but Ribbit knows the difference between bigotry and relief and they just smile at Gangle. It’s always nice to have other queer people around. Even if there is Jax, now.

Speaking of Jax, Ragatha welcomes the new girl brightly, obliviously chirping some nonsense about how it’ll be nice to have another girl around here, you know, I missed having girl friends, and Ribbit doesn’t really count—not that you’re not my friend, Ribbit! Just—

Ribbit waves her off. “Not a girl,” they confirm, but their eyes are on Jax’s retreating back. “Good to meet you, Gangle, but sorry to have you. Excuse me, I’ve gotta go do something.”

Jax is…well, Ribbit doesn’t know if it’s because Gangle’s a girl, because she’s not bothering to hide how upset she is about all of this, because of the comedy mask that fell off after a few ties and cracked and how Gangle had absolutely flipped out until Caine came along and repaired it, explaining it away as an avatar quirk, or…something else. Because Gangle’s bisexual? Because she’s bonding with Ribbit over being queer, with Ragatha over being girls, and that’s what Jax wants?

Oh, that’s…Ribbit is going to assume it’s exactly that, actually.

Jax tries to pull pranks on Gangle a few times, but she never goes through with it. This time around, she’s friends with Ragatha and Kaufmo, she cares what Kinger thinks, and she isn’t used to doing things without Ribbit at her side, so when all of them tell her that hurting Gangle is crossing a line, she doesn’t.

“The most annoying thing about her,” Jax tells Ribbit one day, when they’re both in Jax’s room. The fairy lights are on. Jax is wearing Ribbit’s bow, and so is Ribbit. “Is that she’s actually kinda cool.”

“Aw, bunny’s got a heart?” Ribbit fake-cooes, sticking out their tongue, and Jax laughs.

She’s never friends with Gangle, not exactly. But every so often, when they’re doing a paired adventure, Jax will call, “You’re with me, Ribbons!” and Gangle doesn’t flinch when she smiles.

“I don’t want to live like this forever,” Jax says. It’s not exactly out of nowhere. Ever since Gangle arrived, with all of her talk about things like leaving and real life, things have been a little off. Gangle is doing much better now, thankfully. It’s been…well, it’s been some time. But not too much times. A few months, Ribbit would say, if they could with any confidence.

“I know,” is all Ribbit responds with. It’s all they’ve got.

“You’re…” Jax’s voice is quieter. She’s twisting her hands together. They’re sitting on Ribbit’s bed again. Ribbit…hasn’t left in the last day or so. She doesn’t know why, she just…doesn’t. So Jax is here too. She got Caine off their backs, talked to Ragatha and made her agree to leave them alone for a bit, and aside from brief trips around the circus to retrieve digital food and pillows, she hasn’t left Ribbit’s side.

(In another universe, this happens earlier, and she does. Everyone does, and Ribbit fades away. But this isn’t Ribbit fading away. This is just…Ribbit needing a break.)

“You’re a lesbian?” Jax finally asks. Ribbit is lying down, on her side so she can only see Jax’s silhouette, and half-buried under pillows. She doesn’t sit up.

“Kind of,” she mutters. “It’s complicated.”

“Do you want to…like, explain it?” Jax offers. Ribbit considers her.

They don’t, really. They don’t like explaining these things, but, well…it’d be kind of nice if someone could get it. Jax knows about Ribbit’s past, but she doesn’t know anything beyond the brief not a girl, my pronouns are she/they, that doesn’t make me a girl, doesn’t make me not a girl, just leave it alone that Ribbit has delivered to most of the circus members over the years. (Kinger never seemed to need an explanation, and Gangle was given Ribbit’s pronouns and figured the rest out from Ragatha.)

“I’m omnisexual,” Ribbit says into a pillow. “I like all genders, but it’s not even, I don’t like guys as much. And it…well, it used to take me a while to want sex with someone, but that’s not a thing anymore, at all. I’m not a woman, I’m genderqueer or something, but I’m fine with being called she, and that throws people. It’s just what I’m used to? He feels weird, but…yeah. That’s…that’s me.”

“So if there was a girl who liked you,” Jax continues, in that same measured tone. “Could that…would she be a lesbian, or no?”

“I can’t tell her what she is,” Ribbit says. “But if we’re using me as the indicator…possibly. Or bisexual, maybe.”

“I like girls,” Jax says, leaning down and propping her head up on a hand, elbow resting on the mattress. “But I like you, and I get your whole thing, like, I know you. You’re…chill.”

“You’re probably a lesbian, then, if I’m your only non-girl,” Ribbit says. They can’t bring themself to look in Jax’s eyes. This is almost exactly what they wanted, but does she have to do this now? “I don’t…mind that.”

“And you like girls.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you…”

“You’re a girl, aren’t you?”

“It’s not that simple,” Jax huffs, and Ribbit can see her face going pink even as they very firmly don’t make eye contact. “I love you, moron.”

Ribbit doesn’t look her in the eyes. They just scooch over until their face is buried in her chest, and then, they cry.

Nothing else happens. Nothing can. But they don’t hesitate before reaching for her hand anymore.

Ribbit, Gangle, and Ragatha are hanging out on the balcony outside of the cafe, sitting on the floor with their backs against the railing. Inside, Kinger is curled up in an armchair, sipping some sort of hot drink while he watches them with a calm, slightly confused expression of contentment. Ribbit isn’t positive where Jax and Kaufmo are, but she isn’t worried. They’re together, because Kaufmo doesn’t love being alone and he would’ve sought someone else out if he wasn’t with Jax. And that’s good. Ribbit doesn’t want the two of them splitting apart.

“Hey, Ribbit?” Gangle asks. Her voice is a little weaker than normal, and she’s sniffing every so often, but her comedy mask had slipped off when she was looking over the railing earlier and Caine hasn’t been around to fix it yet. “Can I ask you…kind of a personal question?”

“Sure,” Ribbit says. Their tongue is sticking out of their mouth in an exaggerated expression of concentration as they pretend to sketch something on the black notebook each circus member was given after Gangle brought up wanting to draw. Ribbit cannot draw anything more complicated than cartoon acorns (don’t ask) but Gangle seems to have assumed that they can based on their excitement upon receiving the notebook.

Ribbit was kind of planning to turn it into spitballs, but hey, there’s no reason why she can’t scribble circles and acorns on all the pages first. Ragatha and Gangle are both clearly very talented, and she’s enjoying being included.

“Are you…uh, are you and Jax dating?”

Ragatha goes still, glancing between the two of them. Ribbit thinks faintly, shit.

“Not really,” they say, with as much composure as they can manage. “I don’t know why anyone would bother, here.”

Gangle, unfortunately, must have been wondering about this for some time, because an actual answer, vague as it may be, has spurred her on. “I really don’t mean to assume, but, uhm, aren’t you…”

“Gay?” Ribbit fills in. Gangle nods sheepishly.

“I’m sorry if that’s rude,” she mumbles. “I’m bisexual, I’m not homophobic or anything.”

“You’re fine,” Ribbit assures her, because she is. She’s given Ribbit multiple opportunities not to answer and been very clear that she’s simply curious. The problem is just that not answering and answering are tied for suspicion-levels, and Ribbit can’t out Jax. “I’m omnisexual.”

Gangle nods, but Ragatha tilts her head. “Can I ask what that means, if you don’t mind?”

“I could be attracted to a person of any gender,” Ribbit explains. “I prefer women, but not by much, and I don’t experience attraction that often, so it’s not much of a concern, here.”

They guess it should probably feel like a violation, because at the best of times Ribbit was almost never attracted to the human form, and there’s nothing in them that can find the urge to try to be closer with one of these digital avatars. Ribbit might try to kiss Jax, if they could, but they probably can’t and they don’t care enough to risk whatever would happen with Jax if she figured out it was impossible. Jax…hasn’t handled the whole fake body thing as well as Ribbit has.

(And for a few years, Ribbit handled it pretty freaking badly, so that’s saying something.)

“What about Jax?” Gangle asks.

“Don’t know,” Ribbit blatantly lies. “We’ve never talked about it.”

Ragatha nods, accepting this answer easily, but Gangle is clearly much more familiar with the language of the closet and hesitates before lowering her head and returning to her drawing. She doesn’t press, thankfully. She understands that don’t know, coming from someone as close to Jax as everyone knows Ribbit is, means I’m not answering that, don’t expect me to tell you anything. If Ribbit had said that wasn’t their information to share, that would have implied that it was acceptable to ask Jax personally.

They might have still messed up, though. Gangle doesn’t exactly looked disappointed or put off, and Ribbit did say…well…they probably shouldn’t have said they prefer women. It was in a way that could mean that Jax is an exception to that, right? They can’t actually remember their wording, and now they’re kind of panicking because if Gangle figures it out Jax is never, ever, nevernevernever going to forgive Ribbit.

Maybe Gangle just thinks Jax is bi, for being interested in Ribbit? Ribbit’s never…well, they’ve never been considered not-girl enough for a supposed man interested in them to be queer, but maybe Gangle doesn’t realize that. Maybe it’s that.

Gangle doesn’t bring it up again. She doesn’t ask Jax either, Ribbit assumes, because Jax never mentions anything and continues to pull Ribbit closer, even when there are other people around. Ribbit wonders if one day, she’ll leave the bow on.

Time passes. (This time, maybe years.)

Jax gets better. Kaufmo gets worse, for a little bit, and Ribbit doesn’t even have to talk Jax into telling him her secret. That helps somewhat, it’s a clear enough display of trust and friendship to convince him to start going on adventures again. When he starts talking about exits, they help him through it, together, and when Ragatha also catches a glimpse of the red door Caine confesses about making it as an add-on to the circus. Ribbit isn’t positive Kaufmo believes him, but he lets it drop, at least for a little while.

Jax doesn’t tell Ragatha, or Gangle, or Kinger and Caine. Ribbit thinks she might, though, she thinks that maybe they’re getting close to a point where Jax might manage to find comfort in the reality of a video game, and then a new human arrives.

Zooble…changes things. For better or for worse.

Zooble arrives during an adventure, while Caine isn’t paying attention to the main tent, so by the time they’ve all returned Zooble has already worked themself into a full-blown meltdown and has somehow disassembled themself in the process of attempting to taking the headset off. Safe to say, it…isn’t pretty. Zooble doesn’t even get a name that first time, they’re simply guided back to their room by Ragatha, and for a few days they don’t leave. Ragatha tries to explain a little more each day, Caine bounces around anxiously waiting for them to emerge, and for some reason, Gangle takes to visiting their door and leaning against the wall outside, talking about her drawings. Nearly a week later, when Ragatha knocks and instead of letting her in Zooble steps outside, Gangle jumps to her feet.

“Hey, there!” Ragatha says brightly. “Feeling up to meeting the others? No pressure, it’s totally okay if you’re not ready yet, but we’re all pretty excited to say hi!”

“Hey,” Gangle echoes. Ribbit is in their room, peeking out across the hall from their cracked door, and they can see Gangle’s smile.

“Hey,” the newcomer says. They look up, their one eye with visible motion somehow immediately meeting Ribbit’s. They don’t have a mouth, but they tilt their blocky head in a very clear well? gesture. Ribbit pushes their door open a little further, and then glances back to wave Jax on.

“I’m Ragatha, you know me, but just in case you forgot, I know it’s a lot for a mind to process,” the woman is saying when Ribbit walks over, Jax trailing a few steps behind them. “This is Gangle. Oh! Hi, Ribbit, I didn’t realize you were around.”

“The frog is named Ribbit?” the human asks, raising an eyebrow. Their arms are crossed and they’re as nonchalant as a building-block character with a mismatched everything can be.

“Caine didn’t give me a lot of time to think,” Ribbit replies easily. “The pressure’s on for you, though, you’ve had a week to think it over. Nice to meet ya.”

“Ribbit,” Ragatha hisses, wincing, but the human just shrugs.

“Took me two days to realize I’d forgotten it,” they say, and there’s something tense about them when they do, but it wears off quickly enough.

“Caine’s got a letter spinner he used for mine,” Gangle offers hesitantly, and Ribbit has to check that her comedy mask is still intact, because Gangle sounds oddly nervous. Is it just because this is the first new person she’s met since her own arrival? She’s had a week to get used to the idea.

“Eh, what the %(#,” the person mutters, and then groans. “I hate that.”

“Aw, she’s just like you, frogspawn,” Jax teases, curling an arm around Ribbit’s shoulders and leaning down. “Word of advice, newbie, Ribbit’s already tried cursing in Mandarin, sign language, fifty times in a row, and very, very quickly. It can’t be overcome.”

Ribbit rolls their eyes, elbowing Jax in the stomach, but she just grins wider.

“They,” the newcomer says. Jax actually looks at them for the first time.

“Eh?”

“My pronouns are they/them,” the human says, putting their hands on what Ribbit guesses are their hips in a very obvious try-me-I-dare-you. “You said she.”

Jax has (very, very obviously) gone kind of limp. Ribbit elbows her again and smiles at the person. “Hey, you’re right, Jax,” they say pointedly. “We are alike. Mine are she/they. Genderqueer?”

“Nonbinary,” the human says, and they don’t have a mouth or many facial features, but they seem a little brighter. “Possibly agender. You’re…”

“Yeah. Flux?” Ribbit asks.

“Kind of. I say I’m gay, I mean bi.”

“I get that. I’m omni, possibly graysexual.”

“Demigirl?”

“Uh,” Ribbit hesitates. “I’m gonna ask you about that later. It’s…been a few years.”

“Okay,” they say easily.

“Uhm, I’m bisexual?” Gangle offers hopefully. She’s twisting her ribbon hands together. Ragatha, next to her, looks soundly confused.

“Cool,” they say. They sound like they mean it.

Ribbit tries to exchange a look with Jax, but she’s kind of swaying on her feet, staring forward at something between the air and the floor. Caine appears, gives Zooble the tour and their new name with a level of enthusiasm that is even higher than usual. Ribbit is fairly sure she’s made it clear she doesn’t have a problem with them, so she doesn’t stick around for long enough to do anything but hiss an excuse in Kaufmo’s ear before she drags Jax back into her room.

“Hey,” she says. Jax stumbles, shaking herself, and then turns back around, animated once more and scowling.

“What?” she demands.

“What’s wrong?” Ribbit asks. Jax’s face twists into that familiar scowl Ribbit thinks of as a restrained gag from the all the poison she’s forcing herself to swallow instead of puking the nasty words up into Ribbit’s face. “Hey, babe, it’s me. It’s just me, okay?”

“Ribbit,” Jax says seriously, clasping her hands together in front of her. “I love you, but if you don’t let me leave, you are going to regret it. Everyone is going to regret it.”

Ribbit kind of just stares at her. Jax waits two seconds, then claps twice and leaves, making a motion like she’s going to clap Ribbit on the shoulder before she does, but her hand never actually makes contact.

The door slams shut behind her. Ribbit stands there for a moment longer, and then, well. They leave.

They leave Jax alone. They go and find Kaufmo and talk to him and Zooble, who only hangs around for a little while before making some excuse about being tired that Ribbit knows just means they want to go freak out in the privacy of their room, so they make tentative plans to talk the next day and Ribbit spends the night in her own room, alone.

Zooble changes things. Ribbit doesn’t think they even notice it, but they do.

That next day, Ribbit and Zooble and Gangle meet in Zooble’s room. They sit on the floor and talk, and Zooble explains what a demigirl is and Ribbit explains how she loves and hates the bowtie but refuses to get rid of it and Gangle all but says she isn’t cisgender. She’s nervous and stammering when she does, so neither Ribbit nor Zooble press any further, but Zooble gives her a hesitant nudge and Ribbit checks that she’s really okay with she/her pronouns.

Ribbit isn’t positive they are a demigirl, but Zooble says it probably doesn’t matter and gets kind of a tight manner about them, and Ribbit says that no one expects them to be magically composed.

“I’m still not composed,” Gangle says with a watery little laugh. Her comedy mask is sitting on the floor besides her, untarnished, and her ribbon hand brushes over it as she talks. “I’m here for you, if you—uhm. We’re here for you, if you need it.”

Ribbit laughs a little, and Gangle pouts, but that’s kind of just her resting expression without the mask. “Gangle’s right,” they say. “I mean, it’s fine if you don’t want to, but I don’t want you to feel like it’s necessary.”

“I don’t like to be…vulnerable, I guess,” Zooble says after a moment. Ribbit isn’t sure if their honesty comes out of fear, bravery, or a lingering feeling that none of this is real and it doesn’t matter anyway, but they don’t ask. “If I’m not bothered by anything, no one knows when I’m bothered. It’s…useful, with @$$holes. And you guys seem chill, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful. The rabbit-person seemed…off. I haven’t seen them since.”

“Jax?” Gangle asks. Ribbit keeps their expression carefully neutral. “I thought he was okay.”

“That’s his name?” Gangle nods. “I don’t know. It was just…my impression. But I shouldn’t judge on appearance. Or…death stares, I guess.”

“It wasn’t a death stare,” Ribbit objects automatically. Zooble and Gangle both look at them, and they wince. “Jax doesn’t mean anything.”

“He…doesn’t?” Gangle questions. She sounds almost genuinely surprised. Ribbit is kind of kicking herself.

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” they ask rhetorically. “Best friends. I know Jax isn’t like that.”

“Best friends?” Zooble questions. Gangle does not join in, nor press further. She just looks awkwardly away. Ribbit feels a sudden burst of overpowering affection for her, but they don’t exactly have the opportunity to explore it.

“Jax doesn’t have a problem with anyone because of their gender identity or sexual orientation,” Ribbit explains. She hopes her voice doesn’t sound too strained. It probably does. “We don’t speak for each other, so I won’t promise anything else, but that isn’t…it’s not that.”

“Then what?” Zooble asks simply. Gangle is almost annoyed by how rational they’re being. It’s kind of hard to even be annoyed. “Does Jax use he/him pronouns?”

“Oh,” Gangle says, like the word is falling out of her mouth, and then she claps a hand over it like she’s trying to catch it before it can be heard. It’s too late. Ribbit leans back, tilting their head so they don’t have to look anyone in the eyes.

“I don’t know,” they lie, and they already know it’s not as strong of a deterrence. “Any point in asking you to stop?”

“Sure,” Zooble says, soundly shocking Ribbit. “If I overstepped, I’m sorry. I won’t again.”

Ribbit sighs. “That…thanks. I didn’t mean to jump on you. No one here is transphobic, or homophobic or anything, but I get where you’re coming from.”

“Okay,” Zooble says, chill as ever. Gangle is still looking at Ribbit, but when Ribbit looks back, she blushes and stammers out an apology. The atmosphere is tense like it wasn’t before, and Ribbit internally kicks herself. The last thing she wants is to ruin their friendship before it’s even started, especially for someone she’s starting to realize she’s more than a little mad at.

Jax has a right to privacy, but…she’s never wanted it before. She’s never given any indication that she has a problem with their closeness, with Ribbit’s firmly cemented place in her life, with…any of it. And you are going to regret it is a far cry from simply leave me alone or I don’t want to talk about it. Ribbit would’ve accepted either of those easily, but a threat?

Ribbit is starting to think that too much of her life revolves around Jax.

“I didn’t mean to be rude,” they say again. “Enough about Jax. I want to know about all the movies I’ve missed.”

Zooble and Gangle’s combined tastes in cinema are largely the same, but very different from Ribbit’s. She sits back and listens to the two of them talk over each other to explain the plot of some animated thing that Gangle adamantly states is not tentacle porn until it devolves into them sketching character profiles and diagrams of flight scenes while Ribbit tries to act out the battles based on their explanations. It’s…it’s alright. It’s fun. It’s something new.

(It’s probably tentacle porn.)

Ribbit does not show up at Jax’s door, and they do not run up to her when it’s time for an adventure, and they do not rush to apologize. They stick with Gangle and Zooble, then Ragatha when she joins the group to check on Zooble, and Jax hangs with Kaufmo and pretends not to be watching them. Ribbit vaguely wonders if this is a fight.

(In another universe, Ribbit not talking to Jax leads to total isolation and loneliness and resentment and insanity. In this one, she isn’t alone, and it’s Jax who starts to slip.)

(It’s Jax who starts to go a little crazy.)

(But in this universe Jax is not so damaged, and in no universe is Ribbit as stupidly prideful or stubborn or scared or whatever Jax is that caused her to turn away. Ribbit isn’t like that.)

So when Jax stops showing up for adventures, and Kaufmo and Ragatha stop knowing where she is, Ribbit finally goes to her room and knocks on the door.

(In another universe, when, years earlier, it’s Jax standing outside the door, the fist never meets digital wood and the knob never turns.)

(And who knows, how can we say this one will be any different? Maybe Jax won’t hear, or maybe she won’t care, or maybe Ribbit will give up a moment too soon and Jax will open the door to see them walking away and she’ll shut it again and die quietly. Maybe—)

Jax cracks the door open enough to meet Ribbit’s eyes, and she flings herself into Ribbit’s arms so quickly that Ribbit doesn’t even have time to open their mouth. When they do, they just close it again and wrap their arms around Jax.

(Ribbit has never shoved anyone off.)

“I’m sorry I’m an asshole,” Jax says later, when they’re sitting on the floor in her room. Jax’s head is in Ribbit’s lap.

“I love you anyways,” Ribbit promises. “But you can just tell me no, okay? You don’t need to threaten me.”

“Okay,” Jax says. She presses something soft and fake-silky into Ribbit’s hand, closing their fist around the item before her arms cross back over her chest. Ribbit slowly unfolds their fingers.

She attaches the bow to Jax’s ear. It’s a little old, a little worn in the way that all the props Ribbit has stolen from adventures eventually become. Caine is constantly refreshing their world, and all the little bits that don’t get his attention have an unfortunate tendency to fade away. If Jax hadn’t interacted with the bow regularly, it would’ve disappeared by now. It’s been years. (Ribbit wishes she knew how many.)

“Zooble thinks you’re transphobic,” Ribbit says.

“That’s…” Jax trails off, then clears her throat. “That’s an easy fix, isn’t it?”

Her voice is small. Uncertain. Ribbit shrugs.

“It can be,” they say. “I told them you weren’t. You could leave it there. Or you could not.”

“I don’t want to,” she says. “I just…don’t like this. It’s stupid.”

“Well,” Ribbit says lightly. “Four out of seven are queer, so the majority won’t react poorly. Kaufmo already knows, Ragatha is Ragatha, and your only problem with Kinger is that it might take him a while to notice. It’d be okay.”

“I don’t want to,” Jax says again.

“I didn’t want to either,” Ribbit tells her. “I knew my parents probably wouldn’t speak to me again. And I grew up in a very close community, so losing my parents would mean losing everyone. I was terrified.”

“Then why did you do it? Wouldn’t it have been easier to just not?”

“No,” Ribbit answers. “Because I wasn’t happy. With the church, with my parents, with myself. I didn’t know who I was, and I wasn’t allowed to find out. That’s not a life. It’s just…a character.”

“Is it worth it?” Jax asks, turning her head so she isn’t looking at Ribbit.

“Not always,” Ribbit says honestly. “But it’s worth the risk to have a life you’re actually interested in living.”

Jax tells Ragatha privately, without Ribbit there, and afterwards she doesn’t say how it goes but she keeps grinning stupidly at Ragatha from across the room and Ragatha beams back. She tries to tell Kinger, but it mostly doesn’t work. Ribbit and Jax decide it doesn’t really matter, that he’ll figure it out once everyone else knows.

Kaufmo already knows, but Ribbit makes sure to tell him that Jax is going to make an announcement anyway. He reacts mostly as expected, with awkward support and a bit of beating around the bush before he asks what Jax is going to say to Caine.

“No idea,” Ribbit says. Kaufmo shrugs and nods and says a bunch of other things that don’t mean anything beyond I’m surprised this is happening. Ribbit decides to talk to Jax.

“I’m fine, dummy,” Jax laughs, waving Ribbit off, and they banter for another fifteen minutes before Ribbit figures out that she wants them there when she tells Gangle. Jax is still being weird about Zooble. Ribbit can think of about twenty reasons why, so they don’t bother pressing her.

Gangle is very quiet during the explanation but in this universe, her feelings towards Jax are much less complicated. “I’m happy for you,” she says, comedy mask firmly in place. “I’m sorry if I ever pushed you, either of you, to tell me anything before you were ready. Everyone does things at their own pace.”

Which is Gangle for I freaking knew it, I have a notebook full of you in a dress kissing Ribbit and I’m going to start a second one, but Jax doesn’t seem to realize that and Ribbit decides not to interfere. Jax and Gangle hug and Ribbit makes faces at Jax from behind Gangle and all is mostly well.

Ribbit assumes Gangle talks to Zooble, or maybe they just pick it up from Caine, because Jax never talks to them. Ribbit guesses that makes sense, Jax has had maybe one prior conversation with them and it was just her misgendering them before running away and hiding for days. Not exactly a great start. But she tells Caine, who eagerly agrees to update his programming and offers an updated avatar. Jax returns with eyeliner, a stunned expression, and overalls that are a slightly lighter shade of pink and distinctly more feminine. Jax’s figure curves, giving her a waist instead of straight lines, and Ribbit’s bow still sits on her ear.

Jax spends hours in front of her mirror. Ribbit and Ragatha sit on her bed, Kaufmo on the floor, and they play Caine’s knock-off Uno. Eventually Jax joins in.

“Thanks,” she tells Ribbit later. “Love ya, froggy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ribbit laughs.

It’s easy, honestly.

When Pomni joins the circus, she’s introduced to a gang of seven. Ragatha and Ribbit whisk her away to watch the adventure from the cafe balcony, explaining things and trying to calm her down while three of the others chase the Gloink Queen out of her lair. Kinger has retreated to his egg chair with the loss of his fort, and Zooble is leaning against the wall of the cafe, occasionally chiming in to Ragatha and Ribbit’s conversation.

“I’m Ribbit, she/they,” Ribbit tells her.

“Uh, she/her, I guess,” Pomni stammers out. Ragatha pats her on the back.

“It takes a while to get used to the forgetting,” she says sympathetically. “My name is Ragatha. Also she/her, heh!”

“Zooble,” they call over. “They/them. Kinger’s inside, he’s…I’ve never actually asked.”

“I’m pretty sure Kinger is fine with he/him,” Ragatha says brightly. “But I’ll check later. The ones you met earlier are Kaufmo—he’s the clown, down there, Gangle, she’s got the masks, and Violet.”

“The rabbit?” Pomni asks after a long moment. Ribbit remembers being new, vaguely. It feels like your brain isn’t connected to Wi-Fi.

“Yeah,” they say. “She/her. She teases sometimes, but if you tell her to stop, she will. it’s just her way of being friendly.”

“I’m sure you’ll feel better soon,” Ragatha says. “It’s not so bad here. We’re all good friends, and Caine tries his best to make us happy. I know it’s tough, but the best thing you can do is just let yourself live in the moment. And remember, I’m always here for you if you need to talk, and so is Ribbit!”

“Of course,” Ribbit agrees, rubbing Pomni’s shoulder. “It’s going to be okay, Pomni.”

“Okay,” Pomni says shakily. It’s not a great day. But it’s better.

None of this is great. Kinger will never see his wife again and Ragatha will never shake the fear of her mother and Ribbit will never reunite with their parents and Kaufmo will never know true contentment and Violet will never know what happened to her mother and Gangle will never achieve her dreams and Zooble will never be completely happy with themself and Pomni will never know she got to move on.

(But in another universe, it’s a lot worse.)

(That’s something, isn’t it?)