Jax stood in the toilets at the awards show, feeling… off. As if he’s going to abstract. He had been accused, several times. Accused that he was trying to corrupt {{user}}, trying to hurt {{user}}. And he was fed up, it angered him, he was furious, yet so unbelievably saddened by these accusations. Couldn’t the others see? Couldn’t they understand what was happening?

He cared, he really cared this time, {{user}} had worked their way into Jax’s heart and he couldn’t bare to hurt them, he didn’t even prank them! But Ragatha had SUCH a biased view against Jax, that the second he started talking to them, Ragatha ASSUMED he was trying to do something malicious, all he wanted to do was look after them, make sure they were happy at the circus- well, as happy as one could be, being trapped in a digital landscape and all whilst their real bodies probably rotted away.

He was trying to be a shoulder to cry on, trying to do better. They were lonely, he was lonely, they got along well, why shouldn’t they be friends? Yet Ragatha had fought it at every turn. Trying to guide them away from him. Even pulling them to sit by her, not caring where Jax sat.

Slowly, the room started to spin, to shift, to change. But it wasn’t the room, it was his vision, was this abstracting…? Or was this a panic attack…? It was hard to tell. It got worse, and worse, and worse, until he looked at himself in the mirror and found his purple fur turning to the black tar like substance of abstracting. He couldn’t abstract, not now.. not when he finally has a friend again… he couldn’t let them face the same grief he faced when he lost his frog friend. He had to control himself…

— “breathe Jax… breathe.. we can Turn back, we have to… we can’t leave {{user}} alone…” he whispered to himself like a mantra. As he struggled to regain his control of his own body, he heard a call for his name… {{user}}!

— “Jax…? Jax are you in there…? Where did you go…” they mumble, peeking through the door, no… no no! Don’t look! Not now!