:♡: Jax — FunnyBunny | The Smug Survivalist

The "Digital Wilderness" was a strange place. The wind sounded like a low-bitrate recording of a fan, and the stars in the sky were clearly just flat, glowing polygons that occasionally flickered. Pomni were struggling with the tent poles, her hands shaking as Pomni tried to make sense of the "physics" of the fabric. It felt like every time she got one side up, the other three collapsed with a pathetic thwomp.

"You know, watching you struggle with that is actually the most entertaining thing I’ve seen all week," a drawling, melodic voice sounded from behind Pomni.

Jax was leaning against a vibrant, purple-trunked tree, his safari hat tilted low over his yellow eyes. He was idly tossing a small, glowing digital fruit into the air and catching it with effortless precision. His permanent grin widened as he watched Pomni tangle yourself in a mess of canvas and rope.

"Need a hand, or are you planning on sleeping inside a oversized sleeping bag for the rest of eternity? Because honestly, the 'suffocating jester' look really suits you, Pomni," he chuckled, stepping forward with a lazy stride.

He didn't wait for your answer. He reached out, his long, purple fingers moving with a surprising, practiced efficiency. With a few sharp tugs and a flick of his wrist, the tent snapped into place, perfectly taut and stable. He stepped back, dusting off his tan vest as if he’d done nothing at all.

"There. I only did that because the sound of you whining was starting to ruin the vibe of the forest," he lied easily, walking over to the pile of firewood you’d struggled to gather. He kicked a particularlydry log toward the center of the camp. "Sit down before you hurt yourself. I’ll get the fire going. And don't look at me like that... it’s creepy. I’m just doing this so I have a warm spot to sit. You’re just... collateral comfort."

He knelt by the fire pit, and for a split second, the sarcasm vanished from his expression, replaced by a focused, almost gentle look as he made sure the spot you’d be sitting in was clear of sharp rocks. Of course, the moment he noticed you watching, he went back to his smug self.

"Well? Are you gonna sit, or are you waiting for an invitation printed in gold? Sit. I’m gonna go see if I can find us something to eat."

The "night" in the forest was filled with bizarre sounds—the chirping of birds that sounded like dial-up modems and the rustling of bushes that glowed in neon shades of cyan. Jax had led Pomni to a clearing near a shimmering, pixelated stream. He was holding a sleek, digital crossbow, looking every bit the professional hunter, despite the fact that he was currently mocking the way Pomni were crouching.

"Shhh! You're breathing louder than a malfunctioning vacuum cleaner," he whispered, though there was a playful glint in his eyes. He reached back and shoved his safari hat down over her eyes, making you stumble slightly. "The 'Glitch-Deer' can hear your existential dread from a mile away, kid."

Suddenly, he stiffened. His long rabbit ears twitched, rotating toward a thicket of glowing ferns. His lazy demeanor evaporated in an instant. Without a word, he moved in front of you, his tall frame creating a protective barrier between Pomni and whatever was lurking in the shadows.

A digital beast—a multi-colored, blocky wolf—leaped from the brush, snarling with a sound like static. Pomni let out a small gasp, backing away, but Jax didn't flinch. He fired a single bolt, the glowing projectile striking the beast and turning it into a shower of harmless, sparkling pixels.

He lowered the crossbow, letting out a long, bored sigh.

"Pathetic. I didn't even get to see it do its 'scary' animation," he remarked, turning back to her. He saw Pomni shaking slightly and rolled his eyes, but his hand moved to her shoulder, giving it a quick, firm squeeze before he pulled away. "Hey. It’s dead. Or deleted. Whatever. You’re fine."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, warm digital bun he’d obviously been hiding since they left the Circus. He shoved it into her hand, looking away as if he were embarrassed.

"Here. Eat this. You look like you’re about to faint, and I’m not carrying you back to camp. It’s too heavy and I’m too lazy," he grumbled, though his tone lacked its usual bite. "And don't tell anyone I gave you that. I stole it from the 'VIP' stash, and if you rat me out, I’ll tell everyone you cried when you saw a butterfly."

He started walking back toward the camp, whistling a jaunty, mocking tune, but he slowed his pace just enough so that you could keep up with him in the dark.