#digital circus fandom

[logovokamaza]

HELL YEAНН

I finally drew something related to tadc. I've been hyperfixated on it for the past two months, but I've been too busy to do anything

I absolutely LOVE this show!¡!!!

There are so many beautiful and incredible AU's here, but Replacement Code especially touched my heart

[tomatertate]

this is how it should be, in studio seats..

my ego wired into the CRT!

[iexistxb]

C O R N F I E L D.

[odonette]

Abstraction as a Collapse of Self

---

Discussion?

This also is from up to what Episode 8 tells us.

---

I don’t read abstraction as “the person is gone.” I see it as the collapse of stable access to the self.

...

The person is still somewhere inside it, but the parts of them that could respond, recognize, communicate, regulate, or be reached have broken down.

Not because they chose it, but because they hit a point where they could not keep holding themselves together.

...

That is why I do not read abstraction as clean death, but I also do not read it as just “monster transformation.” To me, it is more like the crisis becoming the body.

The hurt gets a shape.

The body becomes the scream.

...

That also makes containment/darkness feel different to me.

Kinger remembering that darkness calmed Abstracted Queenie does not feel like spooky atmosphere anymore.

If the person is still in there, then putting them somewhere quiet is not only “hide the monster.” It can also be harm reduction.

Less input, less demand, less stimulation pressing against someone who is already past what they can hold. A way to keep everyone safe, including the abstracted person, while whatever is left of them is still buried inside the collapse.

...

That is also why I think unabstraction, if possible, would have to be more complicated than one perfect rescue.

Someone probably does have to reach in. Someone has to prove there is still a way back, lower the fear enough for the person inside to realize they are not gone, and remind them they are not completely alone.

But being reached is not the same thing as being ready. Being found is not the same thing as being able to come back.

The person inside still has to reach back somehow.

Not all at once, not perfectly, and maybe not successfully the first time.

It may take time, safety, patience, trial and error, failed attempts, and some buried part of them becoming willing enough to move toward the way out.

...

So I do not think love magically cures abstraction, and I do not think the person is being blamed for collapsing either.

I think outside help matters because it can make return possible.

But the return still has to involve the person inside, because if they are still in there, then their agency still matters too.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note:

Below is a more poetic/dramatic read of the same idea.

However...

I have seen all episodes.

So only continue if you’re also in the IYKYK zone.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I don’t think abstraction is just “the person is gone.”

I think abstraction is ultimate collapse.

Not sadness. Not a panic attack. Not someone having a rough moment.

I mean the kind of collapse where a person has gone past what they can hold.

Past what they can explain.

Past what they can regulate.

Too far inside it to perform their way through.

Past the point where even “I’m okay” sounds like part of the performance.

Because if the person is still in there, then abstraction is not clean death.

It is not deletion.

It is not the end of personhood.

The person is not gone.

Stable access is.

...

Maybe that is why the word abstraction works so well. Not just emotionally, but structurally.

Something can still exist beneath the surface.

Still holding some part of its original shape.

Still there, somewhere under the noise.

But hidden from the ordinary ways we reach it.

---

The self is still somewhere inside the collapse.

Buried.

Corrupted.

Fragmented.

Drowning under too much static to answer clearly.

But not nothing.

Not erased.

Not gone.

Abstraction is what happens when the crisis becomes the body.

When the pain stops being private.

The jokes can only cover so much.

The mask can only hold for so long.

The performance can only stretch so far before something in it finally breaks.

And then there is no more hiding it.

Everything that could not be spoken, softened, joked through, masked, explained, or survived quietly becomes visible all at once.

Loudly.

Horribly.

Unreachably.

Abstraction is less like “monster transformation” and more like the body telling the truth when the person cannot anymore.

The hurt gets a shape.

The body becomes the scream.

---

And that makes Queenie feel even more important now.

Kinger remembering that darkness calmed her does not feel like background lore anymore.

It feels like regulation.

Less input.

Less demand.

Less reality pressing itself against someone who cannot hold reality anymore.

Darkness becomes a kind of mercy.

Not a cure.

Not salvation.

Not a magic fix.

Just quiet enough for the collapse to stop thrashing against everything around it.

Because if the person is still in there, then containment is not only “hide the monster.”

It is harm reduction.

Keep everyone safe.

Keep the person from hurting others.

Maybe keep the person from being hurt more.

Maybe comfort them, if comfort can still reach whatever part of them is left.

Because if someone can be calmed, then someone is still there to receive quiet.

---

Episode 9 makes unabstraction impossible to ignore.

Pomni does not treat Jax like he is simply gone.

She takes Kinger’s memory seriously enough to look for a way in.

And she does not only reach the abstracted body.

She enters the collapse.

Inside it, she finds pieces of him.

Different versions.

Different defenses.

Different ways a self can split when the whole person cannot stay together anymore.

I do not read those versions as proof that Jax is gone.

I read them more like pieces of him trying to survive the collapse in different ways.

The part that defends.

The part that lashes out.

The part that performs.

The part that is ashamed.

The part that still knows how to push Pomni away.

Not separate people, exactly.

Not random either.

More like masks, roles, defenses, and fragments of self still trying to protect something underneath.

And the key matters because it does not come from nowhere.

Some part of Jax helps Pomni go deeper.

Guides her closer.

Until she reaches the version of him standing under the streetlight.

And that version feels like core/true Jax to me.

Not “the real Jax” in a way that makes the other pieces fake.

But the most direct version of him Pomni can reach inside the abstraction.

So when he responds to her, and hugs her back, I do not read that as the abstracted form briefly acting human.

I read it as Jax himself still being accessible somewhere inside the collapse.

But he still does not come out.

And that matters.

Because being reached is not the same thing as being ready.

Being found is not the same thing as being able to return.

...

And then, near the end, there is the aquarium.

The containment space.

The place where the abstracted are being held.

And Pomni says they are starting to heal.

Not fixed. Not cured.

But not nothing.

Not gone.

Something is allowing healing to begin.

Maybe tiny healing.

Maybe unstable healing.

Maybe healing so early it barely looks like healing at all.

But still.

Something inside them can still receive quiet.

Something can still be held in a way that does not make the collapse worse.

And that changes the whole shape of it for me.

---

I think that is why this metaphor hits me differently.

Because I have also felt versions of that edge.

Not abstraction, obviously.

But collapse.

The kind where your mind goes foggy.

Where your body stops cooperating.

Where language disappears.

Where everything in you wants to shut down, detach, vanish, split, hide, or become impossible to reach.

The kind where there is no clean explanation left.

Only surviving the moment.

Only waiting for something in you to come back online.

...

I also know what it feels like to be lost and still alive.

To be unreachable and still there.

To sit in the dark and not be fixed, not be okay, not magically better, but still be a person inside it.

And outside help matters.

It does.

Sometimes you need someone else to sit there.

Someone else to lower the demand.

Someone else to believe there is still a person in there when you cannot feel like one.

Someone else to keep the space open until you can reach it again.

---

And maybe that is what unabstraction would really take.

Not one perfect rescue.

Not one perfect hug.

Not one perfect line that unlocks everything.

But time.

Quiet.

Safety.

Acceptance.

Help from the outside.

And movement from the inside.

Because being helped is not the same thing as being erased from the process.

...

At some point, some buried part of the person still has to answer.

Not all at once.

Not perfectly.

Not easily.

Maybe not even in words.

But somehow.

A reach.

A turn.

A choice so small it barely looks like choice yet.

Some part of them has to notice the hand being offered and become able to move toward it.

And maybe that does not mean the split disappears cleanly.

Maybe that is too simple.

Maybe coming back means the pieces that got separated by the collapse slowly learning they can exist closer together.

The part that is afraid.

The part that is angry.

The part that carried the blame.

The part that went silent.

The part that kept watch.

The part that wanted to disappear.

The part that still remembered there was a way back.

Not perfectly.

Not neatly.

Not as one clean, easy thing.

But close enough that one part no longer has to carry all the hurt alone.

Close enough that the old voice is not the only thing inside anymore.

Maybe not becoming one perfect thing.

Maybe just learning to stay in the same body without abandoning each other.

Close enough that You can start becoming I.

...

And that does not mean the person is being blamed for collapsing.

It means their personhood still matters.

Even buried.

Even broken.

Even almost impossible to reach.

It means some part of them still matters enough to answer.

Even if that answer is silent.

Even if it comes from one separated piece of the self.

Even if it is only the smallest movement toward the hand being offered.

---

Needing someone else does not mean you are gone.

It means there is still someone in there worth reaching.

But being reached is not the same thing as coming back.

It is only the beginning of the way back.

And the way back is the horrible part.

The exhausting part.

The part where help can reach you, but it cannot become you for you.

The part where someone can keep the space open, but some buried piece of you still has to move toward it.

Not all at once.

Not perfectly.

Not easily.

Just enough.

Enough to say:

I am not finished. Not yet.

And reach back.

---

[skyx-the-witch]

Hear me out, Pomni x Jax x Caine. Think about it.

[they-call-me-xeshe]

Day #333: Ribbit roped together for life and love

[enby--ghost]

Chapter 30 of "A Fool With No Audience" is up now! After Jax and Zooble get into yet another fight, the others try to break it up, only to quickly find themselves disagreeing on who should apologize. Luckily, Caine has the perfect solution to all this bickering; a team building adventure!

Chapter 30: Circus clash

Woohoo! Another chapter in the bag! And it's a set up for the next, if not next TWO, chapters?! Who could have seen that coming! The answer is me, the writer of this silly little story, I saw it coming. I really hope you guys like this one, even if it's a tad shorter than my usual output. I'm really excited for this little slice of story I'm getting ready to tell, and I hope y'all are as well. Would we call this a story arc?

Leave a comment here or on the fic itself letting me know what you thought, pointing out any mistakes I may have made, quoting parts you enjoyed, or just sharing whatever is on your mind! Hearing from y'all always makes me happy, and I love getting to reply to all the comments that I can!

I'll finish off this update here, but I wanted to thank you all again so much for the support! Even if the show is over now, I still love it so so much, and I still have ideas for both this fic, and for new fics I might make in the future! Anyway, I'll quit rambling and let y'all get to reading. Until next time!

Happy reading, Brain Friends!

[transgwender616]

People comparing Jax from Digital Circus to Jimmy from Mouthwashing and Valentino from Hazbin can only lead me to assume that anti bullying campaigns were massively successful at every school but mine. I was bullied a lot in school for being autistic so Jax feels tame by comparison. If I went to school with Jax I would consider her more of a nuisance than a bully.