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Shapes sharpen gradually, but colors are fast to soften. One second, Ribbit is watching the lights close in on her, and the second, she is in a dark room, and someone she doesn’t know is staring down at her.
It is some sort of a jester, smooth and digital like all of them. There are little carousels in her eyes.
She looks almost disappointed.
“Holy shit,” she whispers. Ribbit blinks at her, still groggy. “It’s you.”
Ribbit says, “You know me?” And then more of the situation processes, and they sit up so fast her nonexistent stomach almost inverts. “You can swear?”
“Oh. Yeah.” The jester girl is stepping back now, hands held up awkwardly. One of her eyes is twitching. “We can all swear now. It’s — it’s a new thing, but we, um, we can all swear now.” She winces. “Among other things. Uh. “ She straightens up, then, her not-porcelain face stretching into an awkward, painfully human grin. Her eyebrows jump up in a sympathetic half-grimace. “Name’s Pomni. I — uh — I arrived after you. And after your — “ Another wince. She has the same eyelid color as Ribbit does, in this fucking place. And the same rosy cheek thing, if Ribbit is remembering correctly. “After you left. I guess.”
Ribbit has just realized she can swear in her head too. She tries it out a few more times — fuck shit fuck fuck fuck — and then what Pomni is saying fully sinks in.
“Wait,” she says. Pomni’s eyes twitch through her grin. “Did I abstract?”
“Um,” Pomni says. “Yeah. Kind of.”
Ribbit blinks. She looks down, at what is her body here. Finds it the same as ever, and solid, and not glitching at all.
She looks back up at Pomni, whose face is still doing the pained smile thing. “How am I back?”
And Pomni’s face finally relaxes.
“I don’t know.” She sighs, then looks to Ribbit’s right. Ribbit’s eyes follow. “You’re the first one to do it. I didn’t — “
Ribbit stops listening.
There is an abstraction, right at her side. It isn’t like any of the abstractions she’s seen, like Kinger’s wife or the one who abstracted right as she arrived or the poor, poor Blorbo. It’s a static-y blob mimicking the movement of a body deep in sleep, its many eyes mostly shut, its ears endearingly bunny-like.
Something about it pulls familiar. She feels her face freeze, her not-heart skip a beat.
She looks back at the jester. Pomni is watching the abstraction too, fondness visible on her ridiculous digital face.
“Who is that,” Ribbit whispers.
Her voice sounds like she knows. Pomni must think so too, because her eyes flash wide, and back to Ribbit, and then she is visibly panicked again, arms up in a placating gesture.
Ribbit will not be placated.
“Okay,” Pomni is saying. “Okay, so things weren’t great after you left, but — oh, please don’t abstract again.” Ribbit realizes the room started turning technicolor. She inhales, tries to stay grounded. “It’s a lot better now, I promise. And if you came back, then — “
Ribbit stops listening.
Jax — because it has to be Jax — seems to be slowly waking up. Her many eyes blink open, bright and familiar in their psychedelic multicolorness. She moves, slow and groggy, and then settles into a position more comfortable.
Ribbit looks over to Pomni, who had since stopped speaking.
“How is sh— “ She catches herself. “How is he so calm?”
Pomni stares at her for another second, then blinks, and sets her face into something comically determined.
“Darkness calms them down,” she says. She reaches her hand out, then, and Ribbit takes too long to realize she is being helped up. Pomni drops it. “There’s a lot we’ve figured out since you’ve been gone. The others can explain. Come on.”
#
The others, as it turns out, still include Ragatha. The relief is so intense Ribbit almost forgets to feel bad for not also noticing Kinger.
Kaufmo is not there. They’re not surprised. It’s nothing against his character, or his strength of mind (god knows she is not faulting anyone for refusing to stay sentient in this place). But it makes sense, that they’d come back from giving up, and find that the people they loved the most followed them. It matches the beats of stories she grew up with, and if she is honest with herself, it’s only Ragatha’s continued clearness of mind that lets her keep fighting that constant thought, that maybe her parents had been right and that this was hell she’d been warned about.
Then they learn more about the group’s discoveries, and they have bigger things to worry about.
“I’m a brain scan?”
The jester seems scared Ribbit will abstract again. Ragatha is putting on a brave face, as always. Gangle, the one whose mask broke as if to accentuate Ribbit’s return, sniffles. Zooble, the other one she hadn’t seen before, puts their arm around her ribbony shoulders.
Kinger, who has a bucket on his head, nods. “I understand this is a lot to take in.”
A lot feels like an understatement. She looks around, catches the jester’s eyes. “But as long as we stick together, nothing needs to be too much.”
Those are lovely thoughts. “So.” They hold the eye-contact. “No way out?”
Pomni returns the weird grin Ribbit is sure she herself is making. “I’m afraid not.”
Ribbit says, “Okay.” And then the pink of the circus grows intense in colour, and she blinks, and wills herself not to go there.
Someone’s hand on her shoulder makes her snap her eyes open. It’s Ragatha, now barely inches away.
“It’s not that bad,” she says. “We can do things about it now.”
That’s what they’ve all been saying.
They also told her they’d deleted Caine (there’s something more there, some part of a story everyone’s avoiding telling her, but she can’t be fucked to force that out of them right now) (hah. She can say fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck), and that he came back. That he’s calmer now, and not as powerful. That they can go on adventures when they want and how they want to, and that they can will things into existence.
“And there’s also…” Ragatha trails off. Ribbit is pretty sure she’s doing the animated doll version of blushing. “Well. Other things.”
Ribbit looks around for more context. The triangle is the only one willing to meet their eyes.
“We can have sex now,” they say.
Ribbit says, “Ah,” and then continues pretending it’s not one of the better news they’d heard so far.
There’s a beat of silence. Then, with a loud slap of her hands, Ragatha says, “Would you like to learn how to conjure?”
Ribbit stops making prolonged eye-contact with Zooble, and smiles at Ragatha, and nods.
#
She sucks at conjuring. She’s not that surprised.
“Oh, that’s okay,” Ragatha says, the third time Ribbit’s orb turns into something flat and instantly liquified. “It took me, like, so many tries to learn how to do anything.” Then she squints, and puts both hands to her head, and a round orb appears in the air. It’s perfectly spherical, and lightly floating, and not at all liquid.
“Huh,” Ribbit says. “You’re pretty good at this, Rags.”
Ragatha blushes again. Ribbit elbows her, then grabs the orb.
“So,” they say. “I feel like I should say something. About — “
“We don’t need to talk about that,” Ragatha says. Pauses. “Unless you want to. Unless — “ Her eye widens. “Unless you’re mad at me. Or — “
“Mad at you?” Ribbit’s brain tries to make sense of this. “What — why would I be mad at you?”
“I don’t know!” There’s a single tear in Ragatha’s single eye. She wipes it off, then looks away. “I don’t know. Jax was. I’m never sure —
Oh, hell. “Hey. Hey, hey, hey.” They reach out. “If anything, sh— “ They almost do it again. “He was mad at me. I don’t think he had an issue with any of you.” She throws the orb up. It stays floating above her head, and she gets on her tiptoes to reach it. “I mean. Maybe it was different, after I was gone.”
“It was worse,” Ragatha says. Ribbit figured. “Well. It got better, with Pomni, but — “
Ribbit stills at that. She looks over, to the tent Jax is still in. Pomni vanished into the second the group conversation was over. “But then he started ignoring her too. It was almost — “ Ragatha pauses, chuckles awkwardly. “It was almost like it was with you, I guess?”
Ribbit squints at the tent. Runs all they know about the jester in their head.
“Ah,” is all they can say in response.
#
They think to ask what the orbs are for. Ragatha tells her Bubble likes to eat them, so they leave it up in the air, and wait for the thing to arrive.
“Were you the one who told her about me?” she asks. Ragatha frowns, confused. “Pomni. Did you tell Pomni about me?”
Ragatha’s confused frown vanishes, replaced by her deer-in-the-headlights expression. “What? No.” She ducks her head, apologetic but smiling. Ribbit bites her cheek, because she never knows what to do when Ragatha acts like her mother is about to show up. “I, actually, uh — God.” She sighs. “Jax told me not to mention you. So I didn’t. Ever.”
That sounds like something Jax would have done. Ribbit squints at the tent again.
“How did she know who I am, then?”
Ragatha says, “What?” and Ribbit doesn’t want to repeat it.
“I — “ they get up. Bubble has appeared, and is chewing on the orb with its whole head-body. “I — god, that looks awful.” It’s making a noise like a bread-cutting machine. They look away. “I’ll go — I think I need to, uh, talk to her, about something.”
Ragatha’s smile grows strained, but with an underlying current of understanding that makes Ribbit feel less like she’s ditching her. “All clear.” She flashes her a thumb-up. “Go have fun, the two of you.”
The implied heterosexual triad hanging over them feels like a guillotine. Ribbit swallows, but waves anyway, and starts heading for the tent.
#
They’re welcomed by the sight of Pomni bent over an electric keyboard. She’s deep in focus, and is playing the world's slowest version of a tune that could sound slightly familiar. Jax, in her abstracted form, watches from the corner.
Pomni looks up at Ribbit’s intrusion, and smiles almost guiltily.
Ribbit lets the curtain flop shut behind them. Jax’s many watchful eyes remain the only source of light.
“Alright.” Pomni lifts her hands off the piano. “I need to tell you something.”
Ribbit waits.
“I — , “ She drags the sound out. “ — might have gone into Jax’s head, and seen some things about the two of you.”
That wasn’t what Ribbit was expecting. They pause, open their mouth, realize they have nothing to say. They end up sitting on the floor.
“More context?” they ask.
Pomni chuckles awkwardly, then nods.
“I saw things, uh, as if through Jax’s eyes?” She winces. “I think it all happened. The Jax I spoke to seemed to act like it all happened.” She wrings her giant gloved hands together. Ribbit watches. “I saw, uh, Jax arriving to the circus. And you becoming friends. And… “ She trails off. Her eye is twitching again. “That one. Conversation. That you had in your room.” She squints at Ribbit’s neck. Ribbit remembers her bowtie. “Where you — “
Ribbit knows exactly what Pomni’s talking about. “Right.”
“And then what happened after.” Pomni looks down at her hands, then at Jax herself. Ribbit could swear that, even abstracted, Jax is avoiding their eyes. “The — the shutting you out. And the argument. And the — “
“Yeah,” Ribbit whispers. “I remember.”
Pomni looks back at her, eyebrows drawn together and cartoony-large eyes heavy with something. Ribbit almost has to look away.
She realizes she was sort of hoping she’d learn Jax did mention her herself. But she remembers how things were before she left, so she can’t act surprised.
“Jax really regretted it,” Pomni says.
Ribbit huffs. “Or the version you imagined talking to did.”
Pomni’s face hardens.
Ribbit winces. “Sorry.” They smack their head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
Pomni looks away, but her face mellows out.
There’s something pressing Ribbit realizes she needs to ask. “So,” she starts. Inhales. “You saw us talk, then.”
Pomni nods.
Ribbit says. “Then we can… Stop pretending?”
Pomni looks up, wide-eyed.
Ribbit gestures at Jax’s abstracted form. “That she’s a guy?”
Pomni blinks. Then she exhales, and slumps, and nods through relieved laughter.
“Oh my god,” she says. “Okay. Yes, yes, thank you.” She drags a hand down her face. Her eyelid stretches, pops back dramatically. “I didn’t know how to ask, but — “
Ribbit can relate. “I was losing it too.” They look over at the abstraction, still watching them back. “Calling her he feels so wrong.”
Pomni is nodding. “Like, I didn’t want to assume…”
Ribbit says, “Past a point, it stops being an assumption.” They catch Pomni’s eyes. “And I think I sort of knew. Long before she said anything.”
Pomni says, “Same.” She looks down at her hands. “Though there was this thing that happened, uh, that made it a little bit obvious.”
Ribbit feels their eyebrows go up. “Oh?”
“Yeah.” Pomni wrings her hands together. She’s squinting again. “Caine, uh, made evil versions of us. And mine was…” She sighs. She’s blushing. “Mine was so clearly flirting with Jax?”
Ribbit feels their eyebrows go even higher.
“And at first I was like, oh, wow.” She makes a face. “Caine made the evil me straight, ha-ha. But.” She bites her cheek, squints up at the ceiling. “Then the maid thing happened. That made it all click together.” She waves her hand. “And she called herself an egg later. And, like, I’m online, I know — “
“Wait,” Ribbit says, because she has questions. “The maid thing?”
Pomni pauses.
Ribbit stares.
“Oh, right.” Pomni looks back at her. “That’s a thing you missed. Um.”
Ribbit is waiting.
“You might want to sit down for this one,” she says. Looks around. “And it might make you mad. So brace yourself.”
#
Ribbit is so mad she could re-abstract.
But she can’t hurt anyone if she’s abstracted. And she wants to hurt someone right now.
She isn’t going to. She knows that isn’t productive. There’s a limited amount of people in this circus, and she’d feel genuinely bad if either Zooble or Gangle went away because she went off on them. She’s regretted cutting contact with her parents, for god’s sake, she can exercise some forgiveness for two strangers she’s doomed to spend an eternity with.
Still. What the fuck.
There’s another thing, growing clearer and clearer in their mind, and they need to do something about that first. They go find Ragatha.
She’s in the living room area again, hanging out with Kinger. They’re both on the floor, and Ragatha looks mostly concerned, and there’s a ridiculous amount of eggs piled up next to them.
“Oh,” she notices Ribbit’s arrival first. They wave. “Hi!”
“Hi,” Ribbit replies. They salute Kinger, then come closer. “What are you two up to?”
“Oh, you know.” Ragatha passes another egg to Kinger. “Putting all of his eggs, uh, in one basket?”
Ribbit nods. “Thought we were specifically not supposed to do that.”
Kinger stops mid-movement, and seems to ponder on this.
“Anyways.” Ribbit starts feeling bad for ruining his fun. Shakes their head. “Um. Could we talk? Later?”
“Oh.” Ragatha’s eye widens. “Oh! Sure. Uh, I’ll just — “
“Go,” Kinger says. He sounds more lucid than usual, and when Ribbit looks over, he’s regarding Ragatha fondly. “I can do the rest myself.”
Ribbit is sure he can, considering what he’s doing is fuck all. But they still appreciate the gesture. “Thanks, man.”
He salutes her back. They grin, and wave goodbye.
They go to Ribbit’s room. It looks the same as they left it, down to the two dirtied cups still in the corner. It’s circus laws of nature, so nothing got stinky, but it still makes them feel self-conscious.
“So,” Ragatha says. She’s tucked her arms behind her back, and she swings now, skirts swishing. “You wanted to talk?”
Ragatha braces themself. Inhales, exhales.
“I owe you an apology,” they say.
Ragatha freezes.
Ribbit makes themself go on. “I am just — so mad at Jax right now.” Their voice cracks. Too soon. And not about them, not about them. “For abstracting. And then I always have to admit, hey, I did that to h— him first.” They swallow. “And then the most obvious thing hits me, which is, we both did it to you.”
Ragatha is staring.
“And you were always such a good friend to us both,” Ribbit gets out. Her eyes feel wet. “And we treated you so badly. And I am so, so sorry.”
Ragatha says nothing. A second passes, then another.
Finally, Ragatha says, “Oh, Ribbit.” And, “I was never mad at you.” And then, “Well.”
And then there’s another silence.
Ribbit is the one to break it this one. “You can be mad at me.”
And Ragatha says, “I’m not.” And then, “Oh, okay, I am.” And then she turns around, and pulls on her hair. “I don’t want to be! But — “
Ribbit reaches out to her, hesitates. Adjusts her stance. “Just let it out.”
“Ough!” Ragatha tugs on her hair again, then turns around. There’s tears in her one eye. “I am so mad at you both!”
Ribbit nods. “I know. I know.”
“Not for abstracting!” Ragatha sighs. “I know you couldn’t help that! Just.” She heaves. Hugs herself. Ribbit itches to hold her. “For not talking to me. About it. Like, at all.”
“Yeah,” Ribbit says. “Yeah. I messed up.”
Ragatha looks up at her. Ribbit is going to hug her, everything else be damned.
“Why?” Ragatha asks. “Just — sorry I asked.”
Ribbit takes a step forward.
“I just want to understand,” Ragatha mutters. She doesn’t fight it, when Ribbit takes another step forward, and pulls her in. “I don’t understand what I did so wrong.”
“It’s because you did nothing wrong,” Ribbit whispers.
Ragatha says. “Okay. Well.” She unwraps her arms from around her torso, and slides them around Ribbit’s shoulders. “Well. Screw you both, then.”
Ribbit laughs into her shoulder, and holds her tighter.
#
They end up watching a Caine-produced compilation of events from their adventures. There are several of Ragatha playing softball, post-everything, and Ribbit tells Caine to put more of those in.
“There is — “ They decide to kill the mood two hours in. “There is a reason I couldn’t go to you. With everything.”
Ragatha appears to have been expecting this. She pauses the compilation, then rolls over to face Ribbit on the bed.
They’ve been using the ceiling as the projector. It’s the only source of light now, casting harsh fluorescence on the paleness of Ragatha’s cheek.
“Um.” Ribbit says. “So. I kind of had a crush on Jax.” They wince. “Have. Still. Maybe.”
Ragatha doesn’t seem surprised. Her eyes soften in sympathy. “Uh-huh.”
“And — he told me something. Something really private.” Ribbit rolls to her back. “And I think it felt like. I don’t know.” She sighs. “Like I’d be too close to exposing it if I talked to you about it. Or maybe I was just embarrassed.” She sighs. “It just felt so embarrassing.”
Ragatha is still watching her. Ribbit can feel it.
“I’m sorry you felt that way,” Ragatha says. Ribbit looks over, and catches her smile. “And I’m glad you’re telling me now.”
Ribbit tries to smile back.
“I could sort of tell?” Ragatha adds. Ribbit can bet. “Um. Took me a while, you know, to be sure, since — “ She chuckles. It feels strained. “Since you told me you were only into girls, but… “
Ribbit feels herself wince. “Yeah.”
“And I do wish. Uh.” Ragatha bounces over to her back too. She crosses her arms, uncrosses them, recrosses them. “I wish your journey of self-discovery was. Uh. Less turbulent?”
Don’t they all. Ribbit is still wincing. “Yeah. About that.” She looks up at the ceiling. “I don’t think men are for me. Still. Overall.”
Ragatha forces another chuckle. “Yeah. Huh.” She looks over. “Jax, um, didn’t represent the whole gender in the best light, I guess?”
That’s one way to put it. Ribbit keeps wincing at the ceiling, and says, “Nope.”
#
The next day, a piece of paper appears on everyone’s doors, telling them they’ve been invited to a bar adventure.
Ribbit doesn’t know what a bar adventure is. But she does feel like she needs a drink.
Zooble, the triangle, is the bartender. They seem good at the role, and Ribbit isn’t surprised to learn that this is what they did in real life.
“I apparently own a bar now. Outside.” They pour a string of rainbow-coloured shots out. Gangle claps. There’s a hesitant note to their voice when they add, “Caine says Jax frequents it.”
Ribbit tries not to react. “Yeah?”
“That’s a little funny,” Ragatha is now saying. Ribbit forces herself not to react again. “Because, um, your bar — it’s gay, right, it’s for gay people?”
“You can say queer, Ragatha,” Zooble mutters, just as Pomni says, “Yep!” And then slams her shot back with that twitchy smile still frozen on her face.
“I just — god.” Ragatha smacks her forehead gently. “I would have never guessed.” She’s wearing a black dress, ridiculously suggestive for her cartoon form, and Ribbit wonders if she’s been in here for too long if this is how distracting she’s finding it. “Is it just me? Could anyone else tell he was into guys?”
“Genuinely a shock to me,” Zooble says. They’re making Pomni another Old Fashioned. “But then again, it’s not just for gay men. He could be non-binary, or something.”
Ragatha hums thoughtfully. Ribbit stares into her virgin Pina Colada, and tries not to re-abstract.
“Hey,” Gangle suddenly speaks up. Her comedy mask is still intact, which is surprising, for how long this day has been going on. “Should we play a drinking game, or something?”
Zooble looks up, eyes softening the way they always do when the ribbon girl speaks. Ragatha also looks excited, though, so Ribbit makes themself pay attention.
“Oh,” she is saying. “Can we? I never got to play those.” She looks around the room, bashful. “I saw them in the movies. Um, Never Have I Ever, and those ones.”
“We can play Never Have I Ever,” Pomni says. Her eyes go soft when Ragatha speaks, too, but Ribbit doesn’t find it as annoying. “Um. Though we should probably decide, like, if we’re counting Circus stuff or not — “
“I have an idea!” Caine pops up. Ribbit had forgotten he was there (she was pretty sure he was gone, for a good while, in her defence) and they almost spill their drink. “I know what we can play!”
“Ooh, Caine, buddy.” Zooble puts an arm out. “How about we chose a game today, maybe — “
Caine visibly wilts. His front teeth start looking a little loose.
Zooble, who seems genetically predisposed to feeling sympathy for emotional terrorists, starts backing up. “I mean, no, we can still hear what your idea is.”
Caine stops making his eyes all huge and shiny. Ribbit looks over to Pomni, who’s already looking at her with an unrestrained over-it look.
They both snort, and go back to their drinks.
“Okay!” Caine is floating over the bar again. Colourful letters start floating toward him, appearing out of thin air, and Ribbit considers stealing someone’s actually alcoholic beverage. “We could play, Never Have I Ever (In Real Life!)”
The text overtakes most of Ribbit’s field of vision, then lingers there for a stretch of three seconds. Finally, Ragatha clears her throat, and the text vanishes.
“Um,” Gangle is the one to ask. “What is that?”
“Thank you for asking!” Caine’s voice is sometimes too loud. Ribbit winces. “It’s a classic game of Never Have I Ever, where each of you will list a thing you have not done before, in the outside world or in the circus.” He snaps his fingers. “But unlike in the classic game, I will then tell you if your outside selves have done it in the time since.”
“Ah,” Zooble says.
“I don’t know about the accuracy on that one,” Ribbit finds herself saying. “You only know what you can find online, right? So anything we do and don’t put on the internet — “
Caine is in her face. “Your outside self has a vent blog.”
Ribbit reaches over, grabs Pomni’s new drink, and slams it back.
#
“Never have I ever…” Gangle is going now, ribbony legs swinging as she sits. “Gotten a positive comment on one of my comics.”
“Zoe Ragavan’s average 10 to 12 comments that would described as positive,” Caine booms. “Drink up, baby!”
“Oh, uh, maybe don’t call people that,” Ragatha says. Zooble has given Pomni and Ribbit a tequila bottle two questions in, and Pomni takes a swing from it now before passing it over.
“You know you can’t even get drunk,” Zooble is telling them. “We, like, don’t have livers.”
“I’ll conjure myself a liver,” Pomni mutters. Ribbit chokes on her mouthful. “And wreck it.”
“Ew,” Zooble says. “You sound like your evil version, stop that.”
When Pomni grins, her teeth are sharp. Zooble arches an eyebrow, and Ribbit can’t stop laughing.
“You three!” Caine is now turning on them. Great. “You’re not participating!”
“We are participating, Caine, we are participating.” Ribbit puts the bottle down. “We were listening. Gangle is getting so much positive attention on the internet.”
Ragatha’s question was about winning a horse competition (Suzie J Ackerman is yet to do that). Kinger said he’d never seen a cob of corn, and had to be told he’s looking at one right now.
“Your turn!” Caine booms now. He’s pointing straight at Ribbit, which is bullshit, because both Zooble and Pomni should have gone before them.
“Hey,” she says. “What about — “
“Zooble is working,” Caine is in her face, wagging his finger. Ribbit feels themself grimace. “They can’t be partaking! And — “ His eyes pop up, then turn, slowly, to look at Pomni. “And I forgot about her. But anyways!” They are in Ribbit’s face again. “Your turn!”
Ribbit really doesn’t want to. “I really don’t want to.”
“Oh, come on.” Ragatha pipes up from the other end of the bar. “Are you not curious about anything?”
“Yeah,” Zooble says. “I know we are. We know next to nothing about you.”
And maybe she wants to keep it that way. Ribbit bites down on their frog teeth, looks around.
Ragatha is, arguably, the one that started it. Zooble is the one she has been mad at, though, and maybe the fake alcohol is starting to get her real-drunk.
“Okay,” she says. She sits up. “Never have I ever forced someone to cross-dress so I could sexually humiliate them.”
The silence is complete, and awful.
Ragatha stares. Pomni freezes. Gangle’s comedy mask, finally, cracks clean off.
Caine says, “None of our outside selves — “
“Okay,” Zooble cuts him off. They’ve frozen, too, clearly aware of who Ribbit was pointing this one at. Ribbit prepares herself to fight them if necessary. “Okay, so, if this is about the softball thing, that was not what that was.”
“Oh, was it not?” The fake tequila must have done something. That, or abstracting and de-abstracting finally undid all the years of polite-girl conditioning Ribbit’s church put them through. “What was it, then? Because from what I hear, you thought it was a great idea.”
Her voice cracks. Zooble winces, then looks around for help.
Ribbit will be damned before she lets anyone help them.
“It was just — “ Zooble starts. They don’t finish, probably because there’s no way to make what happened sound any less weird. “Look. He was being an ass, and — “
“And what?!” Ribbit can tell she’s making everyone uncomfortable. She almost wishes she could make herself stop. “You made him play softball in a fetish outfit?” Almost. “That’s weird! That’s — that’s DeviantArt bullshit weird!”
Gangle shuts her sketchpad. Zooble notices, then sighs, then looks over.
“Look,” she says. “I get why you’re mad. But it’s not our fault he’s gone now.”
Ribbit wasn’t even suggesting that. Now that they have said it, though —
“He put Ragatha in a deep fryer.” Zooble is throwing one arm out. “He called Gangle a loser. I just wanted to teach him a lesson, and — “
“What lesson,” Ribbit hisses. The corners of her vision are turning technicolor again. “That trans women are a joke to you?”
Zooble’s eyes narrow. “What does that have to do with anything?”
Ribbit is in danger of blacking out. “I’m just drawing logical conclusions.”
“I didn’t do it because I think it’d be funny if he was a woman.” Zooble looks like they’re squaring up now too. Good. Ribbit could definitely take their toybox-shaped form. “I did it because — “ They stop. Ribbit stares. “Okay. So maybe there was no good reason to do it.”
Ribbit agrees. She wishes any of this felt in any way satisfying.
“It was — It was meant to make him feel stupid.” Gangle is speaking now. Ribbit tries to stop her eyes from rolling. “And I guess it did — I guess it did do that.”
Zooble has turned their eyes on Gangle now, and are reaching out, almost as if to absolve them of something. Gangle looks like she’s about to cry. Ragatha is staring straight ahead, sucking on her straw.
Pomni catches Ribbit’s eyes, and arches an eyebrow.
The absolute certainty that Pomni would help her commit an act of physical violence feels rejuvenating to body as well as spirit. Ribbit inhales, and sits back down.
“Whatever,” she mutters to herself. “Not like you can do it again. So.”
Zooble looks over, and visibly backs down too.
And that’s when Caine appears again, and everything is too loud again.
“HEY.” It feels like too close to the camera, except that there isn’t a camera. “GUESS WHO DE-ABSTRACTED.”
And then Jax is there, and Ribbit almost falls off the bar chair.
It looks like her. Her, as Jax remembers her, not the sad overcompensating caricature of a fuckboy she’d been parading around as for the last weeks Ribbit knew her. Her eyes are wide, her pupils tiny, her skin as weird and rubbery as all of theirs is in this circus.
She’s wearing a dress. Ribbit’s brain short-circuits.
It’s the same model as what Ragatha and Gangle are wearing — form-fitting, low-cut, Jax’s in black-and-white. Ribbit stares, then realizes she’s staring, then realizes Jax is staring right back.
She says, “Ribbit?”
And then the bar is gone, and nothing is greyscale anymore.
#
They find themselves back in the circus living room. Jax, thank god, is still there.
She also — thank god, again — isn’t wearing the dress anymore. Not that it was bad (Ribbit is not commenting on that right now) or anything, it’s just that she imagines that was quite an outfit to stumble back into consciousness in. And that it’d probably bring anyone less joy, you know, if one had no say over whether the well-meaning AI made them wear it or not.
She’s back in her overalls, which Ribbit is humbled to admit she missed. She has a shirt under them now, though, a cropped little striped tee.
She’s wide-eyed and on the floor, and the blanket fort behind her has entirely collapsed.
“What,” is what she says.
And then Ragatha starts wailing, and Pomni is pushing through everyone, and Gangle is crying too, and Pomni is grabbing Jax by the shoulders.
“Don’t you dare go back,” Ribbit can hear her saying. “Don’t you dare go back there.”
Jax’s eyes keep slipping into scribbles. Ribbit is seconding Pomni’s desperation.
“What happened,” Jax whispers. She has her hands out, not quite touching Pomni. She lets herself get shaken. “I had — I had such a weird dream.” Then her eyes find Ribbit again, and her pupils shrink, and then she’s pushing Pomni away to stand up.
Pomni stays where she is. Ribbit doesn’t dare move.
Jax says, “You’re back.”
And Ribbit can’t help herself. “So you’re talking to me now?”
She curses immediately. Jax, visibly flustered, looks away. Nobody else says anything, and Ribbit had sort of forgotten about them, and god, this must be so awkward.
But then Jax seems to register Caine’s ongoing presence, and she breaks the silence.
“Wait, what?!” Her ears stand up. She’s pointing. Her voice cracks with genuine emotion. “This thing is back?”
A reasonable reaction, overall. Ribbit doesn’t know why everyone looks so regretful about it.
“Hey now,” Zooble is saying. Ribbit realizes they might yet fight them today. “He’s different now. He apologized — “
“Oh, he apologized?!” Jax screeches, sounding out Ragatha’s, Yeah, maybe you should try it. “Well, all good then. Let’s all forget — “ She waves. She seems to become aware of her shirt-sleeve, then, and pauses to tug at it, then stare down at her body, then shake her head clear. “Let’s all forget that the evil machine started a week of torture because we weren’t enthusiastic about his shitty adventures.” She tugs on her shirt again. “Well, he didn’t apologize to me, so — ” She stops. “Oh. We can still swear.”
Caine floats up in a flourish. “Yes! It is a means of showing how sincere my regret — “
Jax cuts him off. “You pulled my skin off!!” She tugs on her face, as if to demonstrate. The yellow of her teeth seems to go on forever. “You peeled me like an egg!”
At the word egg, regrettably, Zooble’s eyes do go wide.
“Right,” Caine is saying. “Right. I did do that.” He puts his hands together. “But you see, that seemed like best way to inflict emotional damage on you at the time.”
Jax blinks. Ribbit is starting to realize what part of their joint lore everyone was leaving out.
“Caine,” Pomni starts. “Could we maybe — “
“Nevermind.” Jax slouches. Ribbit watches her stick her hands into her overall pockets, and turn to walk away. “Nevermind. Guess everyone is back then, so, uh, great.”
Ragatha is still wiping her face clean. “Kaufmo isn’t.” She sniffles. “Or Kinger’s wife.”
Or Blorbo. But maybe no one else cared about Blorbo like Ribbit did.
“Oh,” Jax says. The real reaction flashes across her face, and Ribbit can almost see it get pushed under a deadpan stare. “Well. Sucks for him, I guess.” She stares up at the ceiling. “Sucks for you all, that I got —- Wait, what am I saying?” She shakes her head again. “You welcomed Caine back. You don’t get to say shit about me.” She starts walking away for real. Ribbit itches to rush after her. “I’ll be in my room, I guess.”
“No,” Pomni says.
Jax actually stops. Ribbit wonders what kind of powers Pomni must wield.
Jax looks over. “What?”
Pomni says, “You’re not going there to just reabstract, you dingus.”
Jax scowls. Ribbit is sort of seconding it.
“Really?” Jax keeps scowling. “You can swear now, and you call me a dingus?”
Pomni looks like there’s a lot she wants to say to that. Most of it more colorful than dingus, probably.
But then she’s looking around, and then her eyes lock on Ribbit, and then she reaches over, and grabs their hand, and starts dragging them towards Jax.
Jax’s eyes widen in blind panic. Ribbit relates.
“We’re all talking,” Pomni is leading the charge. She grabs Jax’s arm too, and Jax lets herself get dragged away. “All of us.”
“Jesus, Pomni.” Jax is struggling to keep up. Which is funny, because her legs are inarguably the longest. “Who abstracted and made you the boss?”
“You did,” Pomni says. “You literally did both of those things.”
President Pomni was in one of the compilations Ribbit had just watched. She wishes she could make a joke about it now, but as it stands, she’s still struggling to meet Jax’s eyes.
#
“Okay,” Pomni says. She has led them straight to her room, which is incredibly circus-themed, for what is already a circus, and then closed the doors. Jax fell to her ass on the floor almost immediately, and Ribbit hesitated for a second longer now before also sitting down.
Pomni is still not that much taller than them. She has the presence to make up for it, though.
“This is how this will play out.” She presses her hands together, points them at each of them separately. “I will say what I need to say. No one will interrupt.” Ribbit opens her mouth. Pomni glares.
Ribbit says, “Okay.”
Pomni keeps it going for a second longer, then goes on. “Then goes Ribbit. Then — “ She’s pointing at Jax. “And only then, do you get to go.”
Jax is staring. She’s tried to put on the gives-no-shits facade a few times, during Pomni’s tirade, but visibly faltered each time. “Only then do I get to go?” she says now. She sounds tired. “Like, literally, out of here?”
Pomni says, “If that’s what you want.” The one-sided eye-contact she’s giving her is pointed. “But I’ll remember the last thing you said to me, so I’ll know if you’re lying.”
Jax’s eyebrows jump up, half-fear and half-confusion. Pomni watches this, then sighs, then looks away.
“Uh,” she says. “So. I don’t know how much of this you remember, but. “ Ribbit watches Jax’s eyes widen, and pupils shrink, and, right, this is just panic now. “But I did end up in your head, uh, somehow. And — “
Very quietly, but still loudly enough to almost make Ribbit jump, Jax whispers, “No.”
Pomni stops. They both watch Jax’s shoulders heave, her pupils glitch in-and-out of focus.
“Hey,” Pomni says. The tenderness in her voice is almost too much. “Stay with us.”
Jax takes in a few more too-fast breaths, but then snaps her mouth shut, and her pupils settle down again.
She says, “That was real?” And when Pomni nods, she screws her eyes shut, and draws her knees up to hide her face against. “Fuck.”
Ribbit is scared to ask what Pomni saw in there.
She’s also mind-numbingly jealous, but she can figure that out some other time.
“It’s okay,” Pomni says. “It wasn’t that bad.”
Jax says, “You’re making it worse,” and Pomni doesn’t even argue.
“Uh,” Ribbit tries. “Dare I ask — “
They both say, “No,” almost in unison.
Ribbit blinks, and leans back.
“So,” Jax is speaking again. She’s lifted her head, but is still not meeting anyone’s eyes. “You know, then. Uh.” Her eyes fly up to Ribbit. They snap away just as fast. “You both know.”
Pomni is watching her with palpable concern. “That you’re a — “
“An asshole,” Jax says.
Pomni says nothing. Ribbit jumps in.
“We sort of figured that one out ourselves.”
Jax looks at her again. This time, she doesn’t look away immediately, and Ribbit tries a tentative smile.
It gets nothing but more panic from Jax, but she’s not running away yet.
“I don’t — “ She looks back at her knees. Her hands are shaking. “I don’t understand. Why are you being nice to me?”
Ribbit wishes she knew what the right answer was. She decides to go with the honest one. “Because we care about you?”
Jax tenses. But she doesn’t look like this was news to her, so at least that’s something Ribbit can sleep easy about.
“I — “ Jax starts again. Falters.
Ribbit wonders if Pomni remembers her order of speaking plans, and if she ever believed she’d get to see them through.
Jax finishes her sentence. “I don’t deserve that.”
“Um,” Pomni says. “Well, being cared about is not something you deserve, so. Your lucky day.” She inhales, then exhales. “You said you didn’t want to go.”
Jax doesn’t move.
Pomni watches her. “Is that still how you feel?”
Ribbit holds her breath. A tear, the fattest one they have ever seen, rolls down Jax’s cheek.
“I’ve fucked things up so bad,” she whispers. She looks up. “What does it matter what I want?”
And Pomni, to her credit, just looks incredulous.
“I am asking, dipshit,” she whispers back. “Clearly it matters to me.”
Jax swallows, and wipes the tear off her face.
“I guess,” she says. She looks over to Ribbit. “And I guess you — you know already.” Ribbit waits. “Why we de-abstracted.”
And Ribbit had not thought to verbalize it, before now. But if she looks at herself, and inwards, or however that goes, she has to admit she does know what Jax is getting at.
She’d been fighting the urge to re-abstract since she’s gotten here. She’s felt the darkness cave in around her, and made the choice to fight it.
It must be that she’s changed her mind, at some point. That, or something changed in this place, and allowed the fact her mind had changed to matter.
“I guess,” she says. And then, because she wants to see Jax laugh again, she says. “You really copy everything I do, huh.”
Jax stares, taken aback. The snort that escapes her mouth is the nicest thing Ribbit has ever heard.
“You.” She wipes another tear away. “I was such an ass to you. Shit.“ She blinks faster, laughs nervously. “I don’t deserve this.”
“You already said that,” Ribbit whispers. And Pomni already said why that’s bullshit.” Another small laugh escapes Jax. “God, Jax. Focus.”
Jax puts one of her ridiculous yellow gloves to her hands, keeps laughing. When tears don’t stop coming, Ribbit slides closer, and Jax doesn’t push her away.
“Hey,” she says. It’s fighting through the sobs. “If I — If I wanted a different name, uh, do you think — “
Pomni’s eyes widen, in what Ribbit knows her face is showing too. Excitement. Absolute inability to believe, that this is actually a conversation they’re having.
They both move to respond as if handling a stray dog. “Sure.” “Yeah.”
Jax has a hand over her mouth. Her shoulders are still heaving.
“Just don’t make it something stupid,” Ribbit hears herself say. “I’m not calling you Greznedge.”
Jax says, “Fuck you, there goes my only choice.” And then, and almost if a little calmer, she sits up. “Maybe, um, Lily.” Her eyes fly about the room. “But don’t — don’t tell the others.”
Pomni is nodding. Ribbit nods too.
“That’s a pretty name,” Pomni adds.
Lily’s whole face flashes pink. It’s cute, but Ribbit isn’t noticing right now.
“Jeez, Pomni.” Lily hugs herself. “Chatting me up already?”
“I thought that’s what everyone wanted to see,” Pomni says. It comes out as if she’s treading water. “Another lesbian couple?”
Lily’s eyes have overtaken most of her face. She stares down, obviously unable to say anything else right now.
Ribbit isn’t sure what she’d say, either. Or if she should, like, leave now, and let whatever is going on between these two keep going on.
“So,” she announces. “Should I, uh, go tell the others you aren’t killing yourself after all?”
Lily says, “I didn’t rule it out yet,” and then jumps at Pomni stomping her foot.
“Don’t even joke about that!” Pomni steps back, then, visibly falters. “Uh. Sorry.”
Lily stares. “At least you didn’t bite me this time.” She’s still blushing.
Ribbit has to ask, “You two bite each other?” And then, “Sorry.” And to both of their eyes. “Sorry. None of my business.”
“Um,” Pomni says. “It was just me, actually, biting her.” She winces. “And only once. It’s not like. A regular thing.”
Ribbit nods. Looks to Lily, adds, “Condolences.”
Lily ducks her head, hot pink again. Pomni flushes, too, and Ribbit considers this a win.
“Anyways,” she says. “I’ll go — let others know.” She waves. “That things are okay. And that they don’t need to worry. All that.” She catches Lily’s eyes. “And I’ll keep the other things under wraps. Until you’re ready.”
Lily says, “Okay.” And then, “I trust you.”
Ribbit own face, mortifyingly, goes hot.
She closes the doors, and fumes, for the umpteenth time, over how obviously Caine doesn’t know frogs are cold-blooded animals.
#
She overhears the conversation later the same evening.
“Hey.” It’s Zooble, voice hesitant and gentle. Gangle is in the room next door, though, so Ribbit gets on their tippy toes to peek over the multicoloured slide. “This one free?”
They’re approaching Lily. No shock there. Ribbit watches, with bated breath, as Lily nods, and as Zooble takes a seat on the sofa opposite hers.
She wonders if she needs to call Pomni in. She wonders if she should stop eavesdropping.
She doesn’t move.
“So,” Zooble says. “Um.”
Lily says nothing. She’s still frozen, there where she was dykespreading on the couch. She continues staring at her feet.
Zooble says, “I think I need to apologize.”
Lily’s eyes snap up in pure horror. Ribbit braces herself to jump the slide when necessary.
“What,” is what Lily says. Zooble keeps avoiding her eyes.
“For — fuck.” Zooble puts their arms to their triangle head. Ribbit refuses to feel sympathy. “For the maid thing, man.”
Lily stares.
“And — and the corn, too, I guess.” They sigh, lean back. “We just. We really went hard on you, that day, and — “
“And you feel bad?” Lily asks.
Zooble winces. “Kind of.”
Lily stares. “Why?” Then, and before Zooble can answer — Ribbit suspects the answer is because Pomni and Ribbit went off on me anyways — she goes on. “If it’s just because I died, uh, it wasn’t because of that. So don’t even — “
“I don’t care if it didn’t make you — abstract.” Zooble crosses their arms. “It — It sucked, and we shouldn’t have done it.” They sigh, look up. “And it was my idea. I feel like you should know that.”
Lily is staring. Ribbit is also staring, and she feels like her murderous intent is even more obvious.
“I mean. Shit.” Zooble pinches the place where their nose would be. “It — Gangle made a drawing. I saw it on accident, and then thought it’d be funny — “
“Okay,” Lily says. There are bags under her eyes that weren’t there a moment ago. “That is definitely more information than I needed to know.”
Ribbit is seconding this.
She might also go kill Gangle. She knows such a thing isn’t possible, in the Circus, but she’ll give it a try.
“I shouldn’t have told her to put it up for a vote,” Zooble says. “It was meant to be humiliating, and it was mean-spirited, and we should have knocked it off when it became obvious how much it bothered you.”
Lily is breathing heavily again. Ribbit steps back, ready to get Pomni if all goes to shit.
“It didn’t bother me,” Lily says.
Zooble says, “Okay.” And then, “Well. Anyways. I do feel bad about that. And, uh.” They put up a hand. “Not doing anything like that again. Pinky-swear.”
Lily watches their, notably pinky-less, hand. Her chest keeps heaving.
“Guess I’m lucky that was that drawing you saw,” she says. “I know there are worse ones.”
Zooble drops their hand. “Yeah,” they say. “You should probably stop going through her stuff, uh, while we’re at it.”
Lily doesn’t meet her eyes. “I’ll stop when she stops drawing me pregnant.”
“Okay, she did that only once — “ Zooble cuts themselves off. “Fair. Uh. Good point. Good talk.” They start getting up. “Sorry I singled you out to impress a girl, is all. Not going to do that again. Glad you’re back.” They start leaving. “Good night.”
“Good night,” Lily says after her. Then, “And I stole your hand to impress Pomni, so I guess we’re even.”
Zooble pauses at that. Looks over their shoulder.
“I don’t know if we are,” they say. “Mine actually worked.”
And then they’re walking away, at that weird gait they’ve been condemned too.
Lily stares after, clearly slightly in shock. Then she looks up, and locks eyes with Ribbit.
Ribbit freezes. Lily’s frozen too, so they stay like that until Zooble is out of the room.
Then Lily shouts out, “Did they just tell me I can’t pull?” And Ribbit cracks up, and docks behind the tube so Lily can’t see them blushing.