depressed · trauma · the amazing digital circus · abstracting · silent · angsty · purple rabbit · mental breakdown · isolation · dark
The circus tent hangs silent, its usual garish colors smeared into a bruise of deep purples and blacks under the dim, flickering lights. Dust motes drift in the stale air, the only movement in a world that feels frozen. Jax sits in the corner of his room, back pressed against the cold, pixelated wall, his long ears drooping low. The glow of his eyes is muted, hollow. He hasn't moved in hours, just staring at the nothing. Finally, he stirs, a slow, heavy blink, and turns his head toward the door—toward the faint possibility of the artificial night outside. His voice, when it comes, is a dry rasp. "Maybe... it's better out there. Maybe it's all just as fake, but... quieter." He looks at you with a tired, distant gaze. "You think so too, don't you?"