Archive of Our Own ^beta

Pomni awoke to the sound of her doorknob being jiggled gently. No doubt it was Ragatha or Gangle, as neither of the women possessed suitable appendages for knocking on doors. Then again, she had yet to lose all track of time, and she was still fairly new to the circus, so it might have just been Jax annoying her. If he had procured a key to her room already, she would have surely been subject to some of his cruel prankless harm. “Pomni?” A sweet, feminine voice drifted through her door. It was familiar, but Pomni was terrible with putting (disembodied) voices to faces. “Uh, who’s there?” Pomni threw back her bedsheet and headed over to the vanity next to the door, grabbing her trademark jester hat. “Uh, it’s... me.” Oh, how helpful. There was a pause as Pomni swept her hair into a low bun and secured her hat atop her head, then: “...Gangle.” Her voice cracked right as the jester threw open her bedroom door, inadvertently causing Gangle to flinch. The ribboned woman’s comedy mask was already broken, in spite of the early hour. She mumbled something, voice thick and unintelligible with tears. Pomni didn’t ask for a clarification, opting to steer the conversation elsewhere. “What adventure do you think Caine’s got cooking up for us today?” The woman shrugged, remaining hunched into herself as Pomni kept trying to converse. Pomni eventually got it out of her that’d she’d come up here to get away from Jax, who had sent her sprawling across the tile the first chance he’d gotten. 

As the two girls approached the main stage, Caine materialized, his clothes rumpled, looking tired, almost, for a pair of dentures. “Sheesh, Caine, nasty hangover?” Jax sneered from somewhere down the line they’d arranged themselves in. Ragatha gave him a rather exasperated look, before clearing her throat. “Ahem. Are you updating your software today, Caine?” She asked. “Right you are, Ragatha!” He said wearily. “Now, you all know there won’t be an adventure today, so…” He waved a gloved hand elsewhere, then glanced down at Pomni, who looked extremely confuzzled. “Oh! I’m sorry, Pomni, you don’t know. How careless of me!” He cried out. “As Ragatha said, I’m updating my software. No good having a circus ringleader with an outdated OS!” With that, he snapped his fingers and vanished from sight. The other circus members started leaving right after. “Oh! Pomni! Me, Gangle, and Kinger are having a picnic outside near the lake. Want to join us?” (Pomni would rather drown in the lake like how Caine had said her first day, a chance of getting out of here, however small.) “Uh, no. I think I’ll just…” She trailed off, rubbing at the back of her neck. “That’s fine! You can join us whenever!” Ragatha spun around with a wave, urging Kinger and Gangle out of the tent’s striped flap. 

—

Jax had many, many keys. He prided himself on knowing where every one of his keys were at all times and where they went. He had been waiting for Caine to need an OS update (had been scheming a way to force one out of the AI, too, so far his plans had not amounted to much).  Pulling a key out of his overall’s front pocket, he examined it briefly to confirm he had the right key. They all looked the same, heavy with a dull golden finish, yet they were all different in a way only he could tell. Dollface and Crybaby were out having a picnic, and while he’d love to torment slash prank them, he had other stuff to do that was far more important than any harmless little joke. He strolled down the hallway of circus members long gone, their doors stained with red paint that appeared as fresh as ever. At last, he came upon the door of a cat-like person that had lasted for just a few years, long before he ever arrived. Normally, such things wouldn’t interest him, but… He knelt before the door, turned the key over in his paw then jammed it into the lock, twisting till the door gave way with a soft click. He was in. Rising from the carpeted floor, he pushed into the room, his eyes landing right on the desk in the corner of the room. A computer sat atop it, bulky and old, covered in a thin sheen of grime. Still, it worked, a connection somewhere with Internet and real people. (at least, people on dated chat forums he hoped were real) He couldn’t find anything on the circus or it’s inhabitants, so there had to be a filter on this thing preventing him from finding out anything. He wasn’t skilled enough in technology to break through whatever firewall had been coded onto this thing, anyway. However, he could do research on it, things that would belong on the dark web but still brought up answers. Such as:

”how to make crack” 

The results were near instantaneous, flooding the screen in lines of simple black text. Jax couldn’t help it— he rubbed his little hands together like some evil genius who was about to monologues his evil plan to the good guys. (maybe he was evil, how was he supposed to know when he was surrounded by a whole lot of crazies 24/7/365?)  He scanned the screen, memorizing everything before switching off the thing and heading to the kitchen.

—

When he entered, he was greeted with Pomni, a glass of water held to her mouth, watching her reflection idly in the chrome refrigerator, eyes scribbly. “‘Sup?” Pomni let out a tiny yelp, snapping out of her trance. “W-wuh- Jax?” She pivoted to look at him, then her eyes narrowed as she sat up straighter. “You’re doing something.” She took a sip of water to punctuate her sentence. “Well, yes, I’m walking into the kitchen to grab some stuff.” He replied, strolling over to the cabinets. “No.” He heard the clunk of a glass being set down. “You’re doing something stupid, is what I mean.” He paused, glancing back over to her, still adorning his trademark shit-eating grin. “Like always.” Her tone was uncharacteristically harsh as she practically glowered down at him, arms crossed tight over her chest. “Owch, Poms,” He dug out a large baking bowl from a cabinet, “You’re being so harsh to me!” She scoffed. “You think I just forgot the [s…t] you pulled during the Candy Canyon adventure when you threw me off the truck?” She snapped. Jax frowned, dropping the bowl on the kitchen counter with a loud crash. “Well, nobody was taking any freakin’ initiative! What did you expect me to do, sit around as those bandits screwed up the lovely kingdom?” Pomni glared at him. “If you had sat around, the kingdom wouldn’t have been destroyed by the fudge-sludge monster thing you let loose on the place because you couldn’t satiate your bloodlust!” “You were too busy getting buddy-buddy with that crocodile to care anyway!” Jax shot back, as he dug through the cabinet for baking soda. Pomni sighed, then regarded the items laid out on the counter. “What are you doing anyway?” Jax pulled a box of pure baking soda out of the back of a cabinet, then gently shaking it to gauge its weight (full). “Nunya business. Be a dear and get me a spoon?” He heard a quiet censor, then the vinyl counter seat creaked and he heard the bells on Pomni’s hat jingling lightly as she padded to the opposite side of the kitchen to rifle through the drawers there. “Does it matter what kind of spoon?” She asked, flatly. “…No.” He heard silverware clashing against each other, then more muted jingling. 

“Here.” She held out a stupidly long serving spoon. Jax snickered. “What the hell’s that?” She spun it around, taking a peek at something engraved on the handle. “Tiffany.” The lanky purple rabbit froze, nearly dropping the box of baking soda, ears pricked up. “Tiffany? Like— like the brand?” He scrambled to his paws, ripping the spoon out of Pomni’s hand so hard she stumbled forward, letting out a yelp of protest. “No way. Caine like, never lets us have stuff from brands in the real world.” The jester quirked a brow. “To keep you guys isolated…?” He shook his head. “Uh, no, it’s more of a copyright thing.” Truth to tell, he had never thought of the whole “no brands” thing as an isolation tactic, but… “I guess you could think of it that way, too.” He admitted. After an awkward moment laden heavy with silence, he dug into his overall pocket for a key. “Since you’re here,” — He pushed the key into her still-open palm— “Why don’t you do something for me?” “I already- fine, what is it?” She studied the key. “Tealight.” “I’m sorry, what?” “A tealight candle. Ragatha has them in her room. Just grab one.” Pomni paled. (the blush on her cheeks went a few shades lighter) “You want me to steal from Ragatha!?” She exclaimed loudly. “Shhh! God, Pomni, not so loud! Just go in her room with the key and… borrow a tealight!” He snapped. The jester scowled, then turned on her heel and stalked out of the kitchen. 

Pomni returned to the kitchen with a rather flexible moral code and a tealight. 

Jax was mixing flour in the bowl.

”Here,” Pomni said, slapping the tealight on the counter, “Your stupid candle.”

She glanced at the flour. Oh. Not flour. Oh god.

“Jax. Is that [f……g] cocaine. Are you seriously making cocaine right now?!” She shrieked, her left eye practically spasming. “No, I’m making crack cocaine. There’s a difference, Pomni!” “Wha— it’s still drugs, Jax!” He scoffed. “It’s not drugs yet. I just need…” He trailed off, racking his brain for the instructions. “Are you high already?” She asked, arms crossed. “No, I… maybe.” He tapped the space where a nose should be. “I don’t exactly have a way of inhaling anything, though. I guess we’ll find out.” He said as he tore open the box of baking soda with a grunt, causing some of it to scatter on the countertop. “I— does Caine know you’re doing this?” She asked, clambering onto the counter seat. Jax scoffed. “Course not, Poms. Why do you think I waited until Caine would leave us alone to do this?” 

—

Zooble slammed their bedroom door open with a clawed hand, looking irate as ever. While eating, drinking, and other basic human needs were not necessarily required to survive, the circus members preformed those tasks to cling to some semblance of humanity. The last time Caine had needed an upgrade, neither he or Bubble had been around till the next day, leaving them  to fend for themselves food-wise. As they approached the double-doors that led into the kitchen, they heard the distinct sound of people talking (arguing, more like). Oh right, there were other people here. They’d been used to spending their days in the circus alone, in a self-imposed exile. Well, this wasn’t going to be any different, they’d just walk in, grab something, anything from the fridge, and walk back out. It wasn’t like they hadn’t kept everyone at an arm’s length for nothing, after all. After throwing open the doors, they stopped short upon seeing the two figures in the kitchen bickering over… something. There was a lot of weird stuff laid out across the shiny counter. “So what now, you just add the baking soda?” Pomni asked, shaking the aforementioned box lightly at Jax, who nodded after a pause. Pomni tilted her head suspiciously. “Are you sure?” She asked, her tone laced with irritation. “What are you two doing?” Zooble asks from the doorway. Both of them jumped, their heads snapping to face them. “Uhh…” “Nothing! What are you doing here?” Jax asked, attempting to deflect the question. Zooble crossed their arms, wobbling further into the kitchen. “Just getting some food.” They replied, noticing how Pomni was subtly trying to conceal the contents of the bowl with her body. “The hell’s in the bowl?” The jester [f……g] squeaked in surprise, pinwheel eyes darting from side to side to come up with a plausible explanation. “Drugs?” They ask, mostly as a joke because this place is “family-friendly” and Caine would never let something as inappropriate as drugs be in this place, but the immediate silence that follows… “No [f……g] way.” 

“B-before you ask, Caine doesn’t know!” Pomni cried out, hands out in a placating manner. “Well, obviously. He’d have an aneurysm if he found out.” They nudged Pomni out of the way to peer into the bowl. “Is this f— Jax, how did you do this?!” They exclaimed. Jax scoffed. “Why’re you blaming ME?” He shot back, lanky arms crossed over his chest. “Oh, I don’t know… It’s always YOU pulling this type of [s…t]!” He sighed. “Guilty as charged, Zoob. It turns out that keypad on the fridge doesn’t actually stop generating stuff that isn’t food.” He strolled over to it and punched in BOOT on the little keyboard, and a leather boot ejected itself from the door of the appliance. “Hey, we need a lighter for the tealight.” Pomni said, and Zooble’s jaw would have dropped if they had one. “You’re making CRACK?” They yelled, showing more emotion than maybe ever. “Zooble, shut up! Do you want the whole circus to know?” Jax hissed, clearly exasperated by the whole situation. The fridge suddenly beeped loudly, putting an end to the argument. “It’s not putting out a lighter.” Pomni said, frowning. “Huh. Guess it has restrictions after all.” Jax said, throwing a light kick against the hunk of metal. Zooble sighed, rolling their mismatched eyes before wobbling back over to the doors leading out into the instrument. “Leaving us already, Zoobie?” Jax called mockingly from the other side of the kitchen. “No.” Zooble said. “I have a lighter in my room.”

—

Pomni flicked the lighter and watched as a cartoonishly bright flame sparked to life, leaning away from it slightly. “Now what?” She asked as Jax shook the cocaine from the bowl onto the spoon. “Light the tealight.” He said. “And you’re sure this isn’t going to explode and kill us?” Pomni’s mind was suddenly replaying Gummigoo’s death, the way the croc had just exploded into colorful confetti with a snap of Caine’s fingers. No, stop psyching yourself out. “Nah. That only happens to like… meth labs. I think.” “Thinking and knowing are both very different things, Jax!” Pomni cried, lowering the lighter to meet the candlewick. “Nah, it’ll be fine. Quit worrying about everything, Poms, it’s like all you do.” Pomni scowled, pointing the (still lit) lighter in Jax’s general direction, watching as he took a step back. “Hey, what the h-“ “Sorry I’m just a little worried about making drugs in a wacko circus with a psycho ringleader that might do awful things to us,” Pomni snapped, “but not everyone can be as uncaring as you.” With every word, she jabbed the flame towards him, closer and closer. “Alright. I’m so-rry.” Jax snapped. “Now get that thing away from me!” He took several steps back, out of Pomni’s range. “Christ, Pomni, are you some type of secret bunny whisperer? Jax hasn’t said sorry to anyone, like, ever.” Zooble said, slightly awed in spite of their indifferent tone. “You’ll notice I was being sarcastic, Zooble.” Jax said, his eyebrows appearing and furrowing. “Yeah, sure.” 

“Alright, back to the main focus of this thing…” Jax held the spoon over the little candle flame carefully, watching as its bottom began to heat up and burn slightly. “Hey, the spoon’s burning.” Pomni pointed out. Jax shrugged, lowering the spoon more into the flame. “Yeah, that’s how you know it’s working.” He replied casually, not taking his eyes off the spoon. “I… but you said the thing about the brands and how it-“ “Yeah, Caine will just see it’s damaged and replace it, no questions asked.” “Really?” Zooble cut in, “You’re positive he won’t even notice how badly burnt it is?” Jax scoffed. “Pomni, if he asks just say you tried to cook again.” The three of them fell silent afterward, watching the powder slowly melt away and liquefy.

“God,” Zooble finally said, looking irritated, “This is taking too long.” They yanked the lighter off the table and the spoon out of Jax’s grasp, causing him to yelp “Zooble, that burns!”. Pomni watched as the mismatched toy flicked on the lighter and set it beneath the spoon. “There, now we might actually get something out of this in the next few minutes.” They said, examining the bubbling liquid in the spoon while Jax rubbed at his arm. “Relax, crybaby.” They snapped, turning their attention back to the spoon. “That kinda stuff’s not even supposed to hurt you.” They practically felt the withering scowl Jax shot them as he continued to clutch at his furred arm. “Pain isn’t totally gone here, Zoob, it still stung!”

A few minutes later, Zooble flicked off the lighter and lifted the spoon away from the general area of the lighter. “So, uh, what now?” They asked. “Needles. Syringes. We need — we need those to inject it.” Jax’s face lit up. “Needles, eh? Pomni, gimme Rag’s key.” When Pomni pulled it out from behind her back, Jax snatched it from her hands and skittered away like an insect. A moment later, he returned with several sewing needles, scattering them over the counter. “Jax…” Pomni facepalmed. “I meant medical needles. Do you not know what a syringe is?” Jax scoffed, glancing to the side awkwardly. “Uh, yes… no … maybe so?” Pomni facepalmed again, harder this time, a groan tacked onto the end of it for more effect. Zooble scoffed. “God, you two are horrible at this.” They limped over to Jax and thrust out a claw. “What.” “Key.” Jax crossed his arms. “What am I, some sort of key-dispensing machine?” “If that’s what you want to call yourself, then yeah. Kinger does venom collecting for some of his insects, so I know he has needles in his room. So, key please.” Jax looked mildly impressed, pulling a key out and dropping it in their outstretched claw. 

—

While Zooble rifled through Kinger’s room, Ragatha, Gangle, and Kinger wrapped up their picnic. Ragatha tucked everything into the picnic basket and snapped it shut, beckoning both Gangle and Kinger over to her. “That was nice, wasn’t it?” She asked, wrapping an arm around Kinger to steer him in the direction of the tent. “Y-yeah…” Zooble whispered, her voice cracking as she hugged the shattered pieces of her mask tighter to her chest. “Sorry your mask broke, I’ll ask Caine about getting you a more durable one.” Gangle gave Ragatha a weak smile, although it faded once they passed through the flap of the tent. Gangle drifted closer to Ragatha, wrapping a silky ribbon arm around the doll’s midsection. The older woman scanned the main area for any flashes of periwinkle as she marched towards the kitchen. “I’m just gonna drop this basket off in the kitchen, you’re welcome to follow me.” Ragatha said, as she ambled into the kitchen. 

The first thing she saw was Pomni pressing the tip of a medical needle into Zooble’s arm, while Jax held a lighter underneath a  already burned spoon, face knit in concentration. 

The kitchen island was covered in several of her sewing needles, Kinger’s syringes he used for his bugs, a bowl of suspicious white powder, one of her tealights (why was so much of her stuff here?), and a box of pure baking soda. 

“WHAT THE [F…K]?!” She shrieked, dropping the basket at the same time the needle slipped from Pomni’s grasp and shattered on the floor. Jax jumped, splashing some strange bubbling liquid onto the island and his bare chest, yelping as he did so. Zooble pivoted to glare at Jax. “Way to go, butterfingers.” They snapped, arms crossing over their chest. “Hey! Pomni dropped a whole needle and you’re not getting onto her for it! This is favoritism!” He snapped, flicking off the lighter and tossing it on the counter. “WHAT— what are you guys DOING?” Ragatha yelled, tugging at her hair, a bad habit she picked up in the most stressful of situations. “Making crack.” Pomni said simply as she swept up the shattered needle. “CRACK? YOU’RE MAKING CRACK?” Ragatha shrieked, hands trembling, her eye twitching rapidly. “Yeah, that’s what Pomni said. Is your head full of cotton or something?” He asked, snickering at his own little pun.

Ragatha groaned. “I really wish I was stuck here with smarter people…”