[Closed] Well, well, look who's inside again

[jaxinthebox]

Who: Jax (jaxinthebox), Pomni (jeveuxpartir), & Ragatha (raggedydamn) (and potentially other CR!)

What:Reconnecting after the fall of King Eligos

When: The days following the incidents on March 15th

Where: Jax's townhouse, Downtown Hollow

Warning(s): Suicidal ideation, past gore, and everything that goes into that :)





If it weren't for the knocking at the door that echoes throughout his home, Jax still wouldn't have found a reason to pull himself out of the bed, even at the sun-shining hour of 3PM.

Maybe it isn't the most mature choice, to hide away in his house, or the "responsible" thing to do. Nor is it probably up there in the choices he could've made that might've been filed under "considerate of others." But considering that he got his skin ripped off, got impaled, and accepted his death all in the span of a few hours, then proceeded to have to claw his way desperately through bones and monsters and continued terrors.

Yeah, maybe he should've gotten in touch with the people who give a damn about him. But he distinctly did not do that.

In fact, the note on his door, left to potentially deter visitors, reads:

DIED.

COME BACK LATER.

But, when the knock comes, within a few minutes there's footsteps on the other side of the door nonetheless, and a familiar voice that pipes up. He sounds hazy with sleep, the way one might after a nap that was supposed to be twenty minutes turns into a three-hour one. (That's not entirely off, either, but does it count if you've been in and out of sleep for an entire afternoon?)

"So, can you not read, or are you here to try to do a seance or something? Because I'm not really feeling up to that kinda thing right now."

Comments

[jeveuxpartir]

For a long moment, Pomni doesn't say anything. She's haggard, and drained beyond belief. Mouth pressed into a flat line and hair hanging out of her hat in scraggles.

He's alive. He won't answer the door, but he's alive.

It hurts that he didn't come see her. That he didn't want to show her that he was he wasn't dead, after how she mourned for him. Maybe what she said really wasn't enough.

She's silent long enough that it'd be reasonable for him to think she'd left. But finally, she finds her voice, hoarse from grief as it is.

"Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do. I'm half crazy, all for the love of you."

[jaxinthebox]

He did, in fact, start to turn away from the door, muttering frustration under his breath, when... she starts to sing.

For the first verses, all he can do is stare at the door. He shouldn't be surprised that she came to see him, but here he is, shocked that she didn't simply wait for the next opportunity to run into him, or called him on the sending stone. But, here she is.

Even as exhausted as he is, he can't help the smile that cracks onto his stiff, sullen face. He lets out a breath of a laugh, disbelieving and fond.

She's nuts. But maybe he's nuts for joining in, just the same.

"It won't be a stylish marriage, I can't afford a carriage."

[jeveuxpartir]

"But you'll look sweet... upon the s-seat of a bicycle built... for..."

She can't finish, the tears welling up. "Oh, God, Jax."

[jaxinthebox]

The door finally cracks open— and as soon as he gets a glimpse that it's just her outside, and he doesn't have to contend with being under the scrutiny of multiple people who might be looking for him at once, the door opens the rest of the way.

After working his way through the catacombs, he's certainly scuffed up: patches of fur are shorter and disheveled, a few cuts seemingly haphazardly patched up and bled through, but he's alive.

"Hey. I..."

What, he was expecting to call her? He's surprised she came to see him, after she thought he literally died for good? The words fall short for a moment, but he tries to crack a weak smile. It's all he's got in him right now.

"...You— wanna come in? You don't gotta do the seance."

[jeveuxpartir]

Pomni sniffles sharply, and nods. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd... like that a lot."

[jaxinthebox]

Waving her in, the door is closed behind her. The house is just as clean as it was when Pomni left it, save for a few things that have been scattered through daily use, but he doesn't draw her too far away from the door before he stops.

It's quiet; it's quieter than any other time they've been together.

Say something. Come on, say something to her, god damn it. She only had to watch you die.

"...Crazy night, huh?"

That leaves a bad taste in his mouth. Instead, he sighs, and leans against the wall, shifting to sit. Considering the situation, some time on the floor is the least that ought to happen here.

"I know what you're gonna say. I should'a shown up last night, how could I not let anybody know I was alive, why didn't I—"

[jeveuxpartir]

Before he can finish speaking, Pomni just rises up on her tip toes and catches him in a hug, burying her face against his shoulder.

"Hey," she murmurs. "It's fine."

[jaxinthebox]

The hug catches him off guard, but opposed to the last time, where he'd frozen in place and pushed her away in every single way he could think of... he tenses, then, slowly, like the melting of snow on skin, he eases, inch by inch, before he loops his arms back around her. It's tentative, but present. He's not trying to let himself out of it, even if he hesitates.

"...Pretty sure it wasn't fine. But it was ty for everybody involved."

[jeveuxpartir]

The relief that comes when he hugs back is overwhelming. "Well, I understand, and I forgive you. I'm just... glad to see you. I'm so, so glad to see you, a-and to hear your voice---- I know you hate to get sentimental and all that but I---"

Pomni swallows hard, trying to slow her roll a little.

"Thank you. For what you did for me and Ragatha. But also don't you ever ing scare me like that ever again."

[jaxinthebox]

Jax lets out a little laugh at that, tired, but surprisingly genuine, and slumps his head into Pomni's own shoulder. Maybe being this close... isn't so bad. After dying, it certainly doesn't feel quite so dangerous anymore, like before, when being that close to anyone felt like the view of the world he'd built up might've been knocked out of place. Here, with her, it's just simple comfort, and he didn't realize just how badly he needed that until now.

"There go my weekend plans to the next torture superdungeon they're opening. You're really twisting my arm here."

A beat. Carefully, uncertainly, he tightens the hug just a bit, from a loose arm-hold to something a bit more deliberate.

"...Glad to see you, too, obviously. They really had us going there for a minute, thinking that was gonna really be the end of it, huh?"

[raggedydamn]

A knock. A dismissive response. And she— feels almost stupid for coming, actually. Even after what he said, at the end (maybe especially after what he said, at the end) she's... not really sure where they stand. And if he doesn't want to see anyone, why would he want to see her? Maybe she should leave him alone. Maybe that would be the polite thing to do.

But she's exhausted. Her emotions are all over the place. That put-together face is nowhere to be seen behind cartoon lines that have appeared to denote eyebags and wrinkled brows. She's not overpolite, overcautious Ragatha, right now.

"...can we— please not do that, right now, Jax? Please."

She's prepared to be told to back off. Or for him to double down on the dismissive, humourless jokes. Honestly, she's prepared for a lot of things he could do to shoot her down. But she's exhausted. And her emotions are all over the place. And she cares too much not to try.

[jaxinthebox]

Huh. He didn't expect her to show up. Much less shoot down a joke in a way isn't one of her outraged, huffy, typical means of shutting him up. She even got him with a please.

There's a long, quiet moment, where it almost seems like he's walked away. But, instead, the door finally creaks open, and he peers out of it. "Yeah, it's not really my best work. I gotta work on it. ...C'mon, get in here already."

[raggedydamn]

That... worked. She really didn't expect that to actually work. A mix of surprise and relief washes over her, face and body, and she doesn't dare say another word before she slips inside the open door. Just in case. (She doesn't want him to change his mind.)

"It's... it's good to see you— alive." Okay would be the wrong word. He's not okay. (None of them are okay.) "Pomni was... she was very upset."

An understatement (distraught, that would be the better word) and a half-truth that dodges the shape of her own, complicated, grief. Scared, still, to scare him off. Still unfamiliar with the shape of whatever the things they've done and said in the last 24 hours mean.

[jaxinthebox]

"Yeah. Good to see you... alive, too."

After all, that's all that anyone can ask of them right now, isn't it? After something like what the whole town went through, alive is the only guarantee that anyone's going to get. Jax wouldn't be shocked if dozens of people had marched up to that dock, demanding the ferryman to take them right back to that office, and tell the goddess that let them in that the deal was off.

(Perhaps, if no one had showed up, he'd be on that very dock, turning tail and setting right off to whatever void was waiting for him. Let the first death and the indignity suffered after it be the final one he'd ever have to deal with.)

Pomni being upset gets a nod out of him, and after a beat, a humorless scoff of a laugh, his hands finding his pockets. He turns on his heel to lead her further into the home, dim as it is, to turn on some lanterns. It's quaint, not quite so colorful as Jax's old room, but comfortable.

"Just Pomni, huh?" Jax asks behind him, joking tone betraying the furrowed brows that face away from her as he turns on a hanging lamp. "She wasn't in it long enough to be relieved, I don't figure. Must've been nice to get... what, six? Seven years worth of a thorn in your side out? I stopped keeping track after a while, honestly."

Maybe that's harsh. Harsher than she deserves, for being glad to see him kicking, for even coming here at all. But he can't imagine her being upset to see him go. It's not cruel, and he doesn't say it like a jab. If anything, his remarks are given like simple facts, not all that different from the weather, or what's on the menu for dinner.

"Make yourself at home. Didn't get crazy with the groceries this week, but I've still got wine out, if you want it."

Wine out is an understatement; two already emptied bottles sit by the bottom corner of a counter, and another one, still lightly chilled, sits on the kitchen island. His plans for himself to see how "drinking to forget" works in this world for digital cartoons faces only some minor interruptions.

[raggedydamn]

Ragatha flinches, but— it's not like it feels unearned. She's doing it again, after all: choosing her words so carefully they circle back around into carelessness. How does she always mess this up? It's a miracle she didn't upset Pomni worse, when they were still in that horrible room.

"That's... that's not what I meant," she murmurs, as she follows after him, eye on everything but him. It's a nice enough place. (Still odd, thinking about how each of them have a place.)

What did she mean? Find your words, dammit.

She stares at the bottles, extra lines in her brow, and her fists ball at her sides. Firmer, and louder, she speaks again: "I wasn't relieved, Jax. No matter what's happened between us, I would never have been relieved to watch you die. Not like that, not by abstraction, not... any way at all. I— honestly figured you wouldn't even believe me, if I said I was upset, too. But I was. I meant what I said, before you... did it. It should never have gone like that. We— should never have ended up like this."

[jaxinthebox]

"Maybe I wouldn't have. But it might've been nice to hear it."

Is nice to hear it, currently, goes unsaid. He drops himself into one of the chairs at the kitchen table, elbow slumped against the table, and he eyes Ragatha for a moment. Words don't usually get stuck in his gears like this, but here he is, having to untangle his head like a wad of unmanageable wad of yarn. (Of course it had to be yarn that came to mind.) He frowns, attention flickering away for just a thoughtful moment, before he lets out a sigh.

"Used to be easier back then, didn't it? We'd argue, you'd get pissed, somebody'd storm off. It was sort of a script. And then, after long enough, I'd go nuts, and nobody'd say it, but everybody would be relieved. You'd have your dumb funeral for me, and nobody would have to sweat it anymore. Nobody got invested, it's just a sad thing that happens, and it'd be over with."

A beat, and he finally looks back her way.

"Then it got complicated. And now we've gotta do stuff like think about how things should've gone. And how they're gonna go. It doesn't just stick to the script anymore. You know what I mean?"

[raggedydamn]

"I... I think so. Even if I wouldn't say all of it like... that."

She hesitates a moment longer, then slides into one of the other chairs, hands clasped nervously beneath the table and alternating between staring at the wood grain and glancing toward him in flickers of motion.

"...I don't— actually know how I made it as long as I did. Not— abstracting, I mean. Kinger's... Kinger." She laughs, humourless but fond. "He has his tricks. And now we know... how everything came to be, i-it makes sense he held out, even as... fractured, as he was. But I— I was the first, after him, and so many people came and went. Better people than me. People who... fit in, better. And still, eventually, they'd abstract. And I'd still be there. And I— don't know why. I kept— waiting my turn."

Some days, parts of her feel broken. Before Pomni (even... after Pomni, some days) she felt so disconnected from everyone. Kinger was so rarely coherent and the others were... nice, but they didn't think she was genuine, did they? Even Jax still had Kaufmo, until— he didn't. (It's wrong to feel this way, she thinks. No one but Jax ever really... did anything, not specifically. It's not a crime not to want to be her friend in specific. But— ugh.)

"...sticking to the script never helped me. I did— everything that I thought should have got me closer to people. That should have kept them from abstracting. And it never worked. You all thought I was a phony, and— and maybe I was. Am. Maybe we both just played our parts too well."

[jaxinthebox]

Played their parts too well.

And here he'd thought that he'd been the only one who had been making any kind of effort to fit nicely right in his place. The key difference between them is that playing the part of not caring is a hell of a lot easier than playing the part that does. And the longer she goes on, the more pieces start to fit together, past incidents that frustrated and agitated now making more sense.

So she wasn't trying to force things to be okay when they weren't. She just wanted to lie to herself as much as anyone else was lying to themselves about escaping the circus, their lives not being over, things being okay eventually.

Often, when Ragatha got going, unless Jax was looking for something to make a dig at her about, his wide eyes would roll, and he'd tune out. This time, though, besides letting his attention find something especially interesting on the wood grain below, he actually listens this time.

"...Maybe you're right. Maybe the scripts weren't doing anybody any favors," Jax relents, leaning back in his chair and sighing through his teeth. "But at least we knew what to do, and what to say. Now we're stuck somewhere where we gotta be real people again. Or, worse, actually, we're real people stuck on Horror Island in the middle of the great universe's Nowhere Pit. It's a headache, right? Worst of it before was a crappy adventure, or some new guy getting dropped in. Now it's a million new guys and all they wanna talk about is the weather, and why we look like freaks. Talk about exhausting."

His ramble's all over the place, but at the very least, and perhaps the most shocking part of it, is how sincere it is.

[raggedydamn]

"...yeah. Exhausting."

She shouldn't admit it. She should be able to be— helpful, and positive, and adapt quickly, but for every odd look or polite curiosity she becomes more and more aware of her body in a way she thought she was long, long past. She's been like this for... who knows how many years, and now it all feels new again. The equal footing of everyone around you being in the same predicament is gone.

Rag dolls are meant to be able to take a beating. But rag dolls also aren't meant to be alive.

"I don't want to be back there. I just— wish we could skip ahead to where things stop being— a novelty, again. And—" a huff, "maybe to not have had such a horrible first 'adventure'. That would have been nice."

[jaxinthebox]

"...You wanna know what my first 'adventure' here was?"

Jax shifts again to lean forward, folding his arms on the table, his foot softly tap, tap, tapping on the floor, anxious energy getting let out one way or another.

"Not counting the UFO that tried to eat me while I was taking a walk... nightmare castle. Stairs that drop off into nothing, mutant animals that want to tear you to pieces, and, on top of everything—"

He sputters a disbelieving laugh, even at recalling it.

"Caine was there! And he said he sent me on a solo-adventure. And everybody on the island was an NPC. Told me to get out there, have fun, do whatever. And you know what the dumbest part of that whole thing was? I believed him! I believed him, just about lost my mind, and..."

He trails off. Maybe she doesn't really need the gorey details. The last thing she needs to do is think about anything else like that when she looks at him.

"...Basically, I dunno if there's ever gonna be one here that wouldn't have been awful. That's just how it goes. Better that you got the worst of it ripped off like a band-aid, right? Now everything else is gonna be easier in comparison."

In some strange, Jax-typical shape, that almost looks like reassurance.

[gooddefense]

"Oh, sorry," North replies, "I forgot ghosts can't eat pizza. Guess I'll just eat this homemade 'za with extra sausage all by myself."

[jaxinthebox]

"Wait hang on."

That's an easy way to get him out of his depression hole, and he has no excuse for himself. He's turned into kind of a foodie, now that there's real flavours available to him again. He opens the door, glancing out of it, before opening it the rest of the way.

"...Oh, , you really did bring a pizza. I can be bribed to stop being dead, probably."

[gooddefense]

"I do in fact have a bribe handy," North jokes. "Besides, I died too. I could use the company of a fellow corpse."

[jaxinthebox]

"Right. Faiiir enough." Jax finally pulls open the door the rest of the way, waving him in. "C'mon. I don't want anybody else to see and think we're doing a corpse-anonymous thing in here."

He's only half-joking; one visitor at a time is already so much as it is.

[gooddefense]

"Amen to that."

Frankly, the only person he wants to see right now is Jax.

North takes it upon himself to head to Jax's kitchen and plate the pizza himself, bringing back a plate each. "Here ya go." He hands one off, plopping onto the couch. "So! How'd you get iced? I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."