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Kaufmo was walking down the hallway to find the other players. Just as they had gotten back from a pirate adventure, he swore he saw a red door with a clear exit sign on it. It vanished when he blinked, but he knew what he saw. He needed his friends to know they might finally be able to leave the circus.
Ragatha was off with Kinger somewhere, so he wanted to stop by Jax's room first. However, after knocking adamantly for a solid minute, he concluded Jax was somewhere else right now. That's when he remembered that Ribbit had told him earlier about wanting to speak with Jax in private after the adventure.
Kaufmo went over to Ribbit's door and raised his hand to ring the doorbell, but stopped. Nah, they f[BOING!] in there, best leave them alone. His discovery could wait some more.
Jax and Ribbit stared at each other. The bow felt comforting to have on his head. No, her head. She could stop hiding now.
“Would it be okay if I was, uh…” she gulped. Her body fought against telling this by instinct. Her mind pushed the memory of last time to the front of her psyche. Come on, you know they'll accept you for being this way. “If I was a girl?”
Ribbit leaned into her a little more, but not too close. She knew they'd avoid major physical contact without expressed enthusiasm after learning her… past experience with hugs. “Of course.”
Noticing their lack of reaction, Jax squinted. “Did… you already figure out I was trans?”
She could see them tightening their mouth. “I may have been considering the possibility for the past couple months. When we were searching your room for your misplaced camera,” Jax cringed upon remembering how it turned out to be left in the café, “I couldn't help but notice the color scheme.”
“Heh, that dumb pair of dentures clocked me without even realizing it.”
Their smirk returned. “Speaking of that camera, I'm catching onto you snapping pics of every princess character we come across. Haven't you taken like three of that candy b[HONK!] alone? I want a girlfriend that's loyal, Jax.” they teased.
With a scoff, Jax replied “Some of Caine's more girly NPC's give me quite a bit of gender envy, cut me some slack.” She froze suddenly before forcing back her smile. Her body still wasn't used to being so vulnerable like this. “F[DINK!] I'm just divulging everything right now!” she said louder than she wanted to.
Ribbit seemed to snap out of their beautiful brand of snark and push back at that. She could see a mixture of worry and shame on their face. “Oh god, oh s[SPLASH!], I'm sorry! I have been forcing all of that out of you, haven't I?”
Jax eased herself. “No no, it's all good. I think I actually feel better having all this laid out with you.” She reached out a hand, to which they moved closer again and held it.
That seemed to calm them, but they didn't seem to be thinking that this was enough. “Is there anything about me you want to know more about?”
She thought for a moment. “You said your parents were devout Mormon, what was that like?” She saw Ribbit tense up and look away for a second. “Sorry, I shouldn't pry about your religion like that–”
Immediately they turned to face her. “No, you deserve to know. After pressuring you to tell me everything you've been through and everything you are… you deserve to know.”
“Mom, dad, I don't believe in it anymore,” ___ said. She didn't know exactly when she started to have doubts about her faith, but by fifteen she was certain of what she believed. Or didn't believe. After accepting that within herself, she slowly worked up the courage to tell her parents.
She looked at their faces. Neither of them appeared angry at her, she couldn't see any scowls or raised eyebrows on their faces. They didn't seem happy either, but maybe they were just adjusting. Maybe they'd ask for more clarification. Maybe they were disappointed by this development, but would understand. Maybe–
“Who have you been talking to, sweetie?” her mother asked.
___ paused. She could feel her face contort with a bit of befuddlement, and a bit of fear. “Huh?”
“Who convinced you to deny God from your heart? I need to know who has been leading my daughter astray.”
After gulping a frog down her throat, ___ answered “No one approached me, mom. I reached this conclusion on my own.”
Her father scoffed and shook his head. “If you won't tell us, we'll have to monitor who you talk to going forward.” He reached out his right hand to her. “Hand over your phone, now.”
Slowly, ___ reached into her pocket and complied to her father's demand. She didn't want to give up her phone, one she had for so long, decorated with stickers. But she had learned well over the years to listen to what her father asked her to do. Sometimes the hard way.
“You can have this back once you accept the Holy Ghost back into your heart.” Her dad told her. “For now, you are grounded. You are not allowed to leave home, outside of school, and of course church, which you will continue to go to.”
___ nodded. She held back her emotions. Her parents made it a point that she shouldn't cry outside of her migraines or grieving, and they certainly didn't tolerate backtalk.
Her mother spoke up. “You're not going over to your friend's party this week, in case that wasn't clear.” She saw her turn to her dad. “Do you think _-_- belonging to a non-LDS home is what's causing this?”
“Could be,” her father began while stroking his chin. “Best to keep her away from them for the time being.”
Dressed in her church blouse, ___ sat with her parents near the front of the chapel. Her older brother had been away on his mission for the past couple of months, leaving her to be the sole focus of their attention.
The priest at the chancel adjusted the speaker. ___ closed her eyes and folded her arms in preparation for the prayer. “O God, the Eternal Father, we ask thee in the name of thy Son, Jesus Christ, to bless and sanctify this bread to the souls of all those who partake of it, that they may eat in remembrance of the body of thy Son…” the sacrament blessings always felt so terribly long.
Eventually the blessing on the bread finished and the deacons began going through the aisles to pass it out. Her father handed her the tray. She took one with a fair amount of crust, then passed the tray to her mother. She ate the bread slowly.
It's been months. Given her lack of refusal, her parents had assumed by this point that she got her faith back. She's glad they thought this way. She hadn't, though.
It certainly wasn't from a lack of trying. She spent so long trying to get herself, to force herself to believe in it again. But no matter how much she prayed, or re-read the Book of Mormon, she simply couldn't. The spark was just gone.
Part of the reason she tried so hard to believe again was the promised afterlife. Death scared her. The idea that one day she will simply stop thinking kept her up at night. That there would never be such a stop was a comforting notion.
The other part was her parents. They had believed in their faith for decades. Her dad was born into Mormonism and her mother was converted by him on his mission. She wouldn't have existed without their faith, so perhaps that meant it deserved her belief in it. Yet still she failed to give.
Perhaps she was broken, flawed. Her parents had gotten on her case before about her pride over her grades, maybe that's it. Her pride in her ability to think for herself must be what's causing her to be unable to trust in God again.
But, what if it wasn't? Her parents had been wrong before. She recalled once when her dad insisted that there were only three hundred and sixty four days in a standard year, because there were fifty two weeks in it. It was a hot minute before he backed down from that. What else will he one day admit to being wrong about?
She silently shook her head. She had to stop trying to make what her parents thought be what she thought. In her current situation she had to continue to play along, lest they keep her away from more of her friends, but they couldn't read her mind. In her mind, she was free to be herself.
In their mind, they were free to be themself.
They felt a gentle but firm nudge on their right shoulder. Their father glanced from them to the chancel again. They knelt again as they heard the priest begin the blessing on the water. “O God, the Eternal Father…”
While laying down on the bed of their apartment, ___ scrolled through the contacts on their phone. It had been months since they moved out to be on their own. Months since they saw or talked to their parents. Every now and then she would receive a call from them, but she never answered.
Their thumb was right on the dial button, but they wavered. No, they don't want the real me. They slowly put their phone on their desk. Maybe tomorrow.
They got up from their bed and grabbed their bag. A good walk around the city would clear their mind.
“After that, I spotted an abandoned building, got curious, and now I'm here.” They chuckled a little. “So that's Mormons for you.”
Jax processed what Ribbit told her, before laughing a bit herself. “So it took you all of a few months to develop a sailor mouth?”
“What can I say? I liked enjoying my newfound freedom to its fullest extent. Too bad this s[BONK!]hole has a profanity filter.” Their smile waned. “I wish I gave them a proper goodbye. They've probably been worrying about me for the last couple years.”
“Wonder how they'll react to you being stuck inside an old computer through a headset?” That seemed to lighten their mood again.
“Given how they didn't want me playing violent video games even in my later teens, probably not well. Definitely not in regards to how we decapitated that gummy pirate captain today.”
“Wish Caine let us keep it as a souvenir. Bet it'd taste good.”
Ribbit snorted. “Gross, my girl.”
Girl. Jax felt herself beam up at that. “I don't think I'm ready to reveal this part of me to everyone else, not yet at least, but it feels good to just let myself be around you now.”
The two of them stared casually at each other as they both listened to the calm ambience of the room. It was so weird of Caine to make Ribbit's room sound like an actual swamp, but it would be great for more moments like this.
Eventually Ribbit spoke up again. “Do you plan on changing your name?”
The rabbit contemplated for a moment, looking around the room. She looked at the soft glow of the star lights on the ceiling. She looked at the smooth texture of the bed she sat on. She looked at the comforting eyes of her partner. “Lilly,” Lilly said, “I think I would like to be Lilly.”
The frog slowly and gently placed their hand on her shoulder, giving her a supportive smile before turning it into a snarky grin. “You want me to sit on you that badly, Lilly?”
Lilly burst out laughing. “F[SQUEAK!] off, sis!” She did, in fact, want the frog to sit on her, but that could wait.