Chapter Text
Time passes so slowly when you’re no longer in danger. Outside of peril and somewhere safe, with nothing to keep your blood pumping and your senses alert, time drags to a crawl and one struggles to keep up with it.
Pomni was bored.
Beyond bored.
It wasn’t hard to figure out why. She’d done it. She escaped The Amazing Digital Circus with her and her friends. She was free from torture and agony and was now back in the real world with its real colors and real consequences.
She had seen her friends escape ahead of her, she had even been the last to get out as the whole thing came apart and that glowing white exit appeared. She knew her friends had gotten out because she had gotten out.
But when Pomni pushed through, it had been inside an abandoned building all alone. In the dark, cold, and damp. She had panicked, wondering if she had been the only one that was real, the only one to have actually existed inside the machine. But no, her mind had latched on to information from an offhand comment made by her friend Ragatha.
How she had horses and lived out in the midwest, though not clear as to where. They had all escaped, but out of the computers they had interfaced with back wherever that was.
Pomni let out a sigh as she got off her couch and tossed her phone aside, not bothering to pay attention to it. She stretched out her back and did arms, looking at the clock on the wall.
2:30 in the morning on a Saturday. An awful time to be awake, but when your nights are filled with dreams of hell and jolly delights, it gets hard to really sleep. Plus, she had always been a bit of an insomniac. It was one of the reasons she explored abandoned buildings at night after work.
So she decided to do something to kill the boredom, something she hadn’t really done in the six months that she had been back home in the real world.
Explore the City and see the sights. Something out there called to her. To go out and have a fun time, maybe find a bar or two and get slammed and hammered. Yeah that seemed like a plan. So putting on a cup of coffee to brew, she tossed on something simple but efficient.
Black jeans, white button up with the sleeves rolled up, simple black sneakers, and a sheer black leather jacket to keep warm in the cool west coast breeze.
Something to keep her warm but closed off enough she didn’t have to worry about someone bothering her. Nobody bothered someone wearing all black and leather.
Right?
Regardless, she grabbed a small mug, poured herself a cup of joe, and grabbed her keys. She shot back the coffee, ignoring the scalding heat like it wasn’t even there, and put the mug down.
Her eyes stung from exhaustion, and her back from hunching over a laptop, but she stood straight and with confidence as she walked to her bathroom door, turned the handle, and walked out into a cold parking garage. She kicked the door behind her closed, and were someone to open it, all they would find is a maintenance room and a mountain of dust.
Escaping the circus came with a bit of a side effect.
Quite a few of them had no real explanation bound to the laws of physics. Take for example what she would do next.
Pomni walked to her pride and joy, a sleek red and navy blue motorcycle, and turned the key. The engine roared to life, before settling into a purr, waiting for her command. And command it she did as she reached behind her and grabbed into nothing and open air and pulled out a purple helmet so dark it was almost black, and secured it on.
Then, when she had settled on the seat she revved her engine and hit the gas, practically flying as she gained speed.
Off to the side, where bits of black sky and distant city could be seen over a concrete barrier, a ramp stood against a wall.
Within a split second she cleared it and went flying over the barrier and into open air, seven stories up.
Were Pomni the woman from before the circus, this would have been an attempt at suicide. A stunt so insane that anyone that knew her would have held her down and begged her not to do it. But that woman bore a name that no longer seemed to fit and had nothing to look forward to but work and a boring life under her mother’s thumb.
The woman she was now was different from the rest of humanity. She was a jester! A jester that no longer served a king, and certainly not one that obeyed the laws of a reality that couldn’t contain her.
To prove the point she did a flip in the air, motorcycle and all, before tires hit the road and she sped down a road.
And it was on this road that she flew.
From that road she hit a highway, one that was mostly empty save for a few cars and another motorcyclist, but she paid them no mind. Not when her machine was picking up even more on speed.
60 miles an hour.
75 miles an hour.
105 miles an hour.
140 miles an hour.
She was speed incarnate, going so fast that every light beyond her had become a blur.
And yet…
And yet when she looked to her left, there was the other motorcyclist keeping pace, wind and dust curling around them as if they were a blade. It was audacious. It was dangerous.
It made her heart pound like a gun with no need to reload, blood turning to fire as she kicked it up another notch. A wicked flame of belief ignited in her chest and ran through her veins and into her palms, where it burned through metal and carbon fiber and straight into the metal monster she rode.
The exhaust of her motorcycle, once billowing bits of smoke, ignited into blue flame as pistons fired with a newfound resolve. She couldn’t dare look to her left, couldn’t dare look at someone she so easily out did in a competition that was only in her head. This was dangerous, an accident waiting to happen, but she believed it wouldn’t be, believing that her actions were right and more than natural.
And the world listened.
She cut through the wind like a bullet fired, feeling no resistance as she casually broke the speed limit four times over, going faster than any unmodified land vehicle should be capable of. But her belief was ironclad, thus she flew on wings made of rubber and steel.
Which is why when she peaked to her left and saw a rider reaching an impossible speed, Pomni felt her heart flutter, if only a bit.
The other rider was tall, far taller than her by almost a head and a half, and wore all black tight leather and a helmet that covered everything. When they revved their engine and kicked their front tire up, in her mind's eye a flaming steed took the place of the cycle, a horse with no name screaming at the top of its lungs to go faster, breathing in air and spitting fire.
Pomni couldn’t let this stand, not with her everything was screaming with a passion she hadn’t felt for months, boxed in a cubicle and a home with nothing and no one in it. This rider, whoever it was, was like her. They could run the world on only belief and fiery thoughts and no law could ever deny them that.
She wouldn’t lose! Not here and not now.
When the opposing rider’s tire hit the street, it hit a speed Pomni had never dared reach before, passing her like she wasn’t even there.
Like their limit wasn’t even human.
They passed her and when a curve appeared ahead, a steep one with little room that wound around in curves that required slowing down, a game of chicken had begun. Both riders had become invested, curious to see what the other would do to handle this hurdle. After all, they were both going so fast that human reaction time wouldn’t cut it here, split seconds separating them from becoming a violent smear on the ground.
Split seconds before impact, when tragedy should have struck and an unfortunate accident occurred, two things happened simultaneously.
A glowing white doorway appeared before Pomni, engulfing her in light before spitting her out the other end, nearly a half mile down the road with all of her velocity maintained holding strong. She was safe, and feeling like a million bucks.
The other Rider, out of sight from Pomni, Glitched in place and appeared at her side.
It was euphoric.
It was explosive.
It was liberating!
The Real world couldn’t compare to this, the Circus wouldn’t even try. Pomni had finally found one of her own kind, her own people.
She raised a hand and gestured with her head to a highway sign leading to an exit a few miles down and begun to slow down. The other rider got the message right away and followed Pomni’s lead, getting off the ramp and reaching a human speed. Something that could be followed by human eyes and understood by human senses.
These roads were unfamiliar, but there was no such thing as being lost to Pomni, not when she had a door that lead to anywhere in the world she wanted to be and the belief that she could get there.
Her and her companion rode through boring roads and eventually reached a city line, where they pulled into the parking lot of some random Bar and grill still open at three in the morning.
Both Pomni and the rider stopped in one parking spot, only a few feet apart from each other. Their hands were shaking as both lifted their helmets off their heads, finally looking one another in the eye.
‘She’s really pretty out in the real world.’ Was Pomni’s first reaction at seeing Ragatha outside of the circus.
Tall, leggy, with clear arm definition beneath her leather jacket. Dusty Red curls of hair draped from beneath the helmet and bounced in place, looking perfect in every way that shouldn’t have been possible. Helmet hair was a problem for most humans when they wore something for long enough. Sweat, grime and bits of helmet particles sticking to the scalp and making a greasy mess of things.
But Ragatha looked like she was straight out of a fashion page and ready to strut.
Her one eye, teary and shaky and beginning to turn a little red locked onto hers, before closing it with a smile.
“Hi Pomni.” She said softly, sincerely.
The shorter woman spent no time and tackled her with a hug, one as tight as her little jester body could. She didn’t cry. Not much at least, but the relief of knowing that she wasn’t alone, that there was someone out there that understood made a weight in her shoulders drop.
“You-, When did you, how?” Pomni stammered out.
“Well, I got antsy living alone on the ranch and decided to go on a bit of a trip on the open road.” The redhead said, pulling a lock of hair behind her ear. Pomni led them inside, blinking as she was hit with low lights and flashes of neon.
The bar was classy, and a bit on the higher end, but neither cared in the moment about money or price. Not when they were re-united once again.
“At two in the morning on a motorcycle?” They walked and sat on two stools at the end of the bar, a private nook away from anyone who could potentially bother them.
“Well, to put it shortly, Mother sold the horses and animals a few years ago, and passed away soon after leaving everything in my name. Took a few years to get everything to prove I was who I said I was, but I have everything properly under my name now.” She raised a hand to get the attention of the bartender, an androgynous looking pink haired punk, before turning back to Pomni.
“But where does the motorcycle and law breaking speed come in?” The shorter woman asked, taking her jacket off and placing it over her shoulder and leaning against the wood in front of her.
“Well when you live alone on a ranch with no animals and nothing but money and time with no voice of reason, you tend to get ideas. I didn’t have a car at the time, so I took a bus into the city, saw a motorcycle, and had the funny thought of being reckless and buying it on the spot. So I did. Bought it, got a license and learned to ride. Been going out on trips with it ever since. A-and you?” She nervously asked, playing with her hands and rubbing away at her fingers.
The atmosphere of the place was calming to the two of them, some old soft rock song quietly playing in the background. It smelled faintly of citrus and spirits, if Pomni were to put a sent to it.
“Well, despite being gone nearly two years, my mom kept paying my rent and to have my place kept clean. When I called her and told her I didn’t remember a thing of what happened or why I was gone, she gave me a card and said that I was okay now and that she would take care of me. Been on a bit of a reckless streak ever since.” She wanted to ask about the glitching, the fear of still being locked inside the circus and that nothing was real. But she knew she was real, that everything around her was real.
But sometimes she felt a little doubt.
“Well thats one thing we have in common at least. I-”
“What can I get ya.” The bartender asked, bored and unimpressed at the world and the two women they were serving.
“A cosmopolitan please, if you will.” Ragatha quietly ordered.
“Negroni with an orange slice please.” Pomni said, absentmindedly picking at her shirt/
The bartender gave them a look, before turning away to make their drinks.
There was an awkward silence between the two of them, unsure of where to go from there, but if there was one thing these two were capable of, it was talking when they were nervous.
“So I see that-”
“Still ordering the-”
They paused, before laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.
“Back out in the real world and we're still just a bunch of cartoon mess ups, huh Pomni? What even is your name anyway?” Ragatha asked. And oh how Pomni wished she hadn't. Because now she had to go out of her way to remember it.
“It's Christine. Christine Pyo-Nim.” Her mother had, in her own admission, decided to name her Christine after seeing a particularly emotional performance of Phantom of the opera in Broadway when she was pregnant with her on a trip for work.
“Oh wow, seems like Caine really didn't try with our circus names, huh? I'm Rachelle, Rachelle Ann Elizabeth Roth. But really you can keep calling me Ragatha if it makes you more comfortable! I know I certainly do.” Ragatha was fidgeting with her hands again, interlocking fingers and flexing tendons and bone in all kinds of unnatural ways.
“Please keep calling me Pomni, it feels so weird hearing my real name attached to this body of mine.” Pomni smiled awkwardly at that, knowing just how strange it sounded.
They had gotten out! Free from Caine and his influence and the tyranny that came from that kind of existence.
But yet when they tried to think of their mine, their life and the people that called out to them, Pomni just couldn't get her mind to accept her real name. It didn't roll off the tongue anymore, she didn't react to it when people called to her with it and she especially didn't like hearing all the old nicknames based off of it.
She was Pomni now, and she figured if that's who she was, then that's who she would be. It helped that her last name sounded so similar to it. People have nicknames from wacky last names all the time. Especially when they're foreign and in America.
“Haha, well isn't that the truth. What about the rest of the troupe, any luck in getting into contact with them?” Ragatha asked, perking up as their drinks were slid down the bar and exactly in front of them.
“None, though it's not like I've been getting out much myself. I tried for a few weeks, but when I remembered you talking about horses I realized that we were probably scattered all over the country. I have the money and time to start looking, but you guys could be anywhere and my doors can only go so far.” It was the first time she’s mentioned out loud that she had these abilities, that she wasn't quite human anymore.
Sometimes she felt like she was straight out of a kids comic or cartoon, and it drove her a little crazy at times.
“So it wasn't just me then, huh?” The doll-like woman said, taking a sip from her drink.
“We're just a couple of freaks the lot of us, yeah? What did you end up with?” There was a level of intimacy that came with being near someone who understood being different in a way no other person could. A type of understanding that went deeper than bone and marrow.
“Well what didn't I get. One time I was out on a stroll, and when I looked away from the road a drunk driver came by and splattered me all over the place. I think it shattered every bone in my body, and sure it hurt, but seconds later my body glitched out a bit and I was right as rain right after!” She took a deeper swig of her drink, downing half of it in one go, but Pomni wouldn't judge.
“Im sorry you had to experience that Raggy, I really am. Me, I can stretch and stretch and just keep stretching. Sometimes if I don't pay enough attention I'll start going limp all the way through. One time I forgot to eat and drink for a week and was perfectly fine. You ever been to the moon? Turns out we don't really need to breathe anymore.” She was rambling, a habit she's developed since the circus. She used to be more confident in herself, back when she had her life planned out and didn't know how constructing the universe was.
But now she could do anything. Go anywhere, survive anything!
And that was terrifying.
“I'm guessing this is a leftover from the circus. Bits of that world that just won't ever leave us. A guy started hitting on me the other day and when I looked him in the eye he started running for the hill screaming that I was a dead girl walking. Don't really know what his problem was.” Ragatha didn't mention how true his words had been, how they felt.
Because later that night she had finally mustered the courage to look herself in the mirror and see what she truly looked like.
Eyes with a glazed over film, once bright violet eyes had dulled to a pale lavender, a fish like sheen over her pupils. Skin once bronzed with a tan paled into something resembling paper with an almost blue complexion, a complexion only seen on the dead.
She was still beautiful, stunning in a way only a spirit or vampire could be, Inhuman and otherworldly.
Sometimes, when she was in the dark, she could see her eyes reflecting off her skin and in the reflection of old silver still laying around the house. As if she was haunting her own home. It was little wonder she preferred the road to her room.
“A neighbor told me that my eyes were really creepy, that when I got excited they got way too big and my teeth way too sharp. Jokes on him I think that's cool as fuck.”
“Well I think your eyes are very pretty!” Ragatha exclaimed, loudly and awkwardly and with an immense amount of embarrassment. After all, Pomni's eyes were almond shaped with a permanent bored lidded look that made any expression she made look like she was always in control of a situation she didn't want to be in.
And her eyeliner? Flawless. Her mascara? Perfect.
“Aww, thanks Ragatha, I think your eyes are pretty too.” She said in reply, the two of them looking away with a soft dusting of red on their cheeks.
Pomni took a slow drink of her Negroni, savoring the simple mixed drink with her human taste buds. The alcohol in the circus was a passable imitation, but it just wasn't the same.
“The craziest part of all these powers is that I don't even know what to do with them. Or if I even discovered them all! Just the other day I cut my finger off my accident and I just reattached it! Didn't even think about. Just popped it back on.” Ragatha said as she finished her drink and flagged down the barkeep to send her another. She had nowhere to be, and she was going to damn well enjoy drinking with her closest friend.
“You remember our evil clones? From that one adventure?” Pomni asked as two more drinks were slid down their way with casual ease.
“No.”
“Oh yeah, can summon mine at will, attitude and all. Sometimes I send her to my job whenever I really don't want to go in. I think my coworkers think I'm bipolar or something cus the next day they always look at me weird.” With a look of brief concentration and some effort, nothing happened.
But when they next blinked, another woman was sitting besides them, a smug, mean look on her face.
“Sup, bitch. Your ass looks damn fine in leather.” And the next blink she was gone.
Pomni hid her blush behind the glass of her drink, not looking anywhere near Ragatha's direction as the taller woman burned a mean red.
“D-does that mean I can summon Evil Ragatha?” She asked as she tried her best to move on from the awkward situation.
“I honestly don't know, I'd say you should try it, but I don't want to accidentally break the bar in the chance something explodes.”
“That's-, no yeah that's fair. Crashed into a few trees before figuring out how to glitch my way around. Those poor motorcycles…” Ragatha said with a distant stare, shuddering at the reminder of her newfound immortality.
They say in comfortable silence after that, sipping at their drinks while trying to subtly look at each other, but neither could get themselves to speak up.
Pomni was amused, in that buzzed kind of way at the ridiculousness of it all.
What were the chances that she would run into her friend from hell on a highway at two- no wait, three now, in the morning? That she would also be like her, uncanny and weird and changed from their time in the Digital Circus.
Grumble grumble went her stomach, empty save for a shot of coffee and some bag of mixed nuts because she didn't really need to eat anymore. But just because she didn't have to didn't mean that her body didn't still like it. Bits of her at least, were still human enough. Others she was glad she didn't need anymore.
Doesn't need to go to the bathroom or deal with cramps ever again. Perks to the digital change.
“Wanna head off into the night and find something to eat?” She asked Ragatha.
“Took the words right out of my mouth.”
With practiced ease both ladies took out their wallets, slapped down some big dollar bills, and stepped out into the world once more.