Chapter Text
The sun beat down from above. Its sweltering heat shone onto his back as he rode across the desert. Jax covered himself with his hat atop his black stallion. He had been riding for what felt like months, yet it had only been a day. Jax wiped the sweat that dripped from his brow with one gloved hand while the other gripped the reins. When he left Cainston, he had only one thought on his mind. He had to clear his head. He had spent the past two weeks trying to get her out of his thoughts, but nothing worked. Everywhere he turned, she was there. She was like a viper, ready to sink her teeth into him at every opportunity. He knew she hated him deep down underneath that smile of hers. He subconsciously reached to his ear, brushing his fingers over where she had grabbed him. He had spent many days and sleepless nights going through that moment in his head. When he did sleep, he dreamt visions of her, his fingers combing through those soft, yarn locks. In his dreams, he held her close to his chest where his heart beat like the thunderous clops of a cattle herd.
He hated those dreams and the way she made him feel. So, he did what he always did when he needed to clear his head. He picked a direction and rode. After two weeks of avoiding her, he finally hit the road and left. Some might call him crazy or a vagabond, but that was exactly what he was. A vagabond, a wanderer, a criminal. He woke up to the morning sun after one of these dreams, and the next thing he knew, he was on the road with nothing but a gun in its holster and a flask of whiskey. He brought up his bandana to his mouth. The desert air stung the back of his throat, and he could feel the dust entering his eyes and lungs, each speck scraping against the walls of his throat like a sticker burr.
As the sun began to set along the horizon, streaks of scarlet and gold spread across the sky like paint spread across a canvas. Jax set up camp for the night, and by the time he had finished, those golden streaks had faded into a deep indigo. The first stars peeked through the sky, looking down on the world like a thousand all-seeing eyes from some cosmic entity up above the earth, watching him as he skewered a cactus with his pocket knife and ridding it of its spines before roasting it over the flame. A skill his mother had taught him when he was a kit. The slimy innards quenched his thirst and hunger, if even for just a moment. Despite the short-lasting relief, he was grateful for it, as he had not eaten since leaving Cainston. Not since leaving her without so much as a word.
He wouldn't call his feelings towards her “love”. Love was something special. Something personal. Something beautiful. Ragatha was all of those things, but Jax was not. No…what he felt for the seamstress was more of an infatuation, or envy, one could say. She both confused and fascinated him. She always had a smile on her face. A smile that felt fake. The kindness she had been showing him disgusted him, and he knew better than to trust people like that. Nothing about them is genuine, and in the end, they’ll always want something from you. They slither into your mind like a cottonmouth and seep their teeth into you. Taking everything you have to give, and before you begin to realize what they’ve done, they leave you.
Despite this, Jax's fondness for her grew, and he knew he had to leave before this disgusting fondness could ensnare him. Jax was not a lover. He could not love when he had received none himself. He was neither kind nor tender. He had no love to give nor to receive. Jax could never love her. He looked at his revolver, opening and closing the cylinder again and again. He ran his finger across the barrel, feeling the jagged grooves of the makeshift engraving.
“Mía es la venganza; yo daré el pago”
He stared at it.
He stood up. He put out the fire. And he got on his horse.
He rode.
Was it away from her? Or was it away from himself? Those painful memories rising inside him burned like the sun. But he said nothing. He felt nothing. He refused to feel anything. He didn't deserve to. He was a criminal. A murderer. That’s all he would ever be.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ableton.
The railroad town was 20 miles north of Cainston. By comparison, it was very similar to Cainston. It too had a saloon, a general store, a doctor, a gunsmith, a tailor… The only substantial difference between the two towns was that Ableton lacked the distinct scent of cow shit. A welcome difference. Across from the saloon was the bank. A tall and imposing building that dwarfed the surrounding shops. Ableton was far wealthier than Cainston due to its location along the Continental Railway. Trade was a prosperous business here in comparison to the cowtown of Cainston, where the stockyards always reeked and there were more cows than people. Ableton’s bank was bound to be full of cash.
He hitched his horse outside the general store. This was once a routine of his before he had to hide in Cainston. He would arrive in a new town, grab a meal, lie low for a few hours, rob its bank, and make his escape before fleeing to another state. It was a routine he had been following since he was thirteen. As Jax walked into the store, he couldn't help but notice the clerk. The resemblance they had to Zooble was rather… unsettling. Their body was made up of the same mismatched toy parts; they had the same triangular head, with those large buggy eyes, as Jax liked to refer to them. The clerk would've passed for Zooble if it weren't for the colors and clothes. It was as if someone took all the eye-straining colors of Zooble and jumbled them up in the wrong order. Jax didn't like it.
He shook off the eerie feeling before turning his attention to the food. There was bread, candies, strawberries, apricots, salmon, beets, beans, corn… Jax flinched when he saw the shelf of canned corn. Why did they have to sell that god forsaken vegetable in every shop in the country? He grabbed a few cans of beans and a pack of dried beef, whatever was farthest away from the corn. He sighed and rubbed his eyes before walking to the counter.
“Just-”
“HELLO.” the Not-Zooble interrupted with a loud, indignant voice.
“Uhhhh… yeah I-”
“I’M BAZOOBLE YIBBA-DOOBA-DABBA-DOO”
Jax clenched his teeth. What was this guy's problem? “AHEM! I would like to-”
“WHats YOUR naMe, buNnY?!??”
“Thats none of your business, look I’m tired so ju-”
“WeLL THATS NoT VeRY nIcE!”
“Now hold o-”
“YoU ShOULD ReAlLY Be nICEr tO pEopLE! ThEY mIGHt LiKE yoU mOrE!”
“Ughhh, Jesus Chri-”
“YoU ReaLLY ARE aN AsShOLe!”
“Oh for the love of God! Just shut up!” Jax slammed his fist on the counter, fuming at the nerve of this mismatched, featherbrained, windbag. “You listen to me! I would like to buy THESE!” He held up a can of kidney beans. “From YOU!” He jabbed a finger at Bazooble, who maintained the same dumb-witted expression on their face. “I have been riding through the desert all night! The very last thing I need right now is a lunkhead like you to keep patronising me!” He chuckled while pulling out his gun, teasing it against their face. “I am a very dangerous person. I have done things to people you can't even fathom. You do NOT want to see what happens to people like you who think that you can call me an asshole. Do you understand me!?”
Jax was breathing heavily, his eyes were wide, and his knuckles whitened. Bazooble blinked, their eyes staring off in two different directions as Jax huffed down their shirt collar. “Oh! Well, wHY dIDn’t yOu juSt Say so, MiSter Rabbit? Hereeeeeeeee you gO!” They put the food in a paper bag and held out their hand for money. Jax scoffed and handed them a dollar. Bazooble blinked for a while and did not move for a good three minutes before Jax slammed his hands on the counter again.
“ByE ByE nOw, RaBbIt BOY!” Bazooble yelled as Jax left the store, his ears folded back in annoyance. And he thought the real Zooble was annoying… Good God, he needed a drink. Even the town drunks would be more normal than whatever the hell Bazooble was.
But before Jax could even reach the porch of the saloon, he heard what he at first thought was a barn owl screech, but upon looking where the sound had come from, he saw it was another ragdoll. Similar to how Bazooble looked like a poorly made Zooble, this Ragdoll looked eerily similar to Ragatha. Except this Ragatha had blue yarn hair and a deep red button eye. She did not look nearly as soft or sweet as Ragatha. Contrary to her usual periwinkle dress and petticoat, this woman was wearing a scarlet and black gown with the front hem up to her thighs. She wore black lace tights and long heels. Her hair was done up in messy curls rather than the braided bun Ragatha wore so elegantly. Instead of the beautiful blue ribbon ragatha wore, crimson feathers decorated her hair. She was waving at him, stumbling over her feet.
“Howdy there! HEY! You look like a nice, strong guy! C’mere! I’ll show ya a good time!” She slurred out before cackling again. If Bazooble infuriated Jax before, this mockery of Ragatha made him boil with hate.
“Fuck off, you whore.” He hissed through his clenched jaw.
“Well, you should at least get a drink with me! It's not polite for a man to deny a lady some company, OHOHOHOHOHO!”
Jax pushed her aside and sat down. The bartender was a man made of a clump of red orbs. “Just gimmie a whisky.” He sighed, slapping a dime onto the counter. Despite his aversion to eye contact, this doll was persistent.
“Awwww come on, you silly bunny! You should buy me something to drink! I think we should get to know each other!” She sat next to him, propping her legs up on another stool. “I haven't seen you around here before. Where you from?”
Jax ignored her and downed the shot. Jax was all too familiar with saloon girls. He had been with his fair share of them after a night of drinking, usually tonight wouldn't have been any different if it weren’t for this woman's disgusting resemblance to Ragatha. She acted so differently from her. So superficial and bland. He hated everything about her; she was nothing like Ragatha. Ugh… why was he even thinking about Ragatha right now anyway? He should be robbing the bank. But when he looked at this woman, he was filled with rage. He had left Ragatha so he could forget about her. Why was he thrown back into these dangerous, weak thoughts at the sight of this cheap, ugly copy of her? This loud, crass, drunk saloon girl?
“OHOHOHO! You should watch me dance! I sure know how to keep men like you entertained! Maybe after I could show you some other things I can do…”
The anger bubbled over. The fact that she even sounded like Ragatha, like she was mocking her sweet voice, made him furious. He snapped and shot her a death glare, smashing the shot glass on the bar.
“I don’t know who you think you are, but if you keep pestering me, I will kill you. I am not afraid to do it. So shut up, you sleazy, disgusting bitch.”
She stopped. Instead of scampering away in fear, she huffed. “Fine then. I can see when I’m not wanted, you filthy bastard. I’ll be on my way. But if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me,” she winked before moving on to another table where a few men were playing poker. Jax felt his eye twitch at the audacity of her comment.
He ordered one more shot before he decided to make his move. He walked across the street, passing a wanted poster for a bandit that looked like Pomni, but just like all the others he had met, looked slightly different. She had a bounty of $100. Jax smirked, his mood immediately lifting. Ah, well, at least he still had the higher bounty over one of these cheap doppelgangers. He stood in front of the bank, cracking his neck and rolling back his shoulders. This was just like the good ‘ol days. Jax whistled and walked in, and to his luck, the only one there was the bank teller. Jax chuckled, readying his revolver. When the teller turned around, Jax was left in a state of confusion. The teller looked exactly like him except… red. And more put together. His fur was smooth, and he wore a blue collared shirt and tie. He looked like he came straight from the big city. Jax immediately hated him more than all the others before.
“Oh! H-hi there! How may I help you? I love your outfit. You look r-really great. And look! You’re a rabbit too!” He gave him a shy smile and a wave. “I saw you talking to that saloon girl with the blue hair.. Y-you seem like a confidant, upstanding guy. I-I know we just met, but could you maybe put in a good word for me? Please?”
Jax flicked his ear. Of course… OF COURSE! God, what did he expect!? This whole town had done nothing but mock and belittle him, so of course, this limp wristed copy of him would be interested in the slutty mockery of someone as sickeningly sweet as Ragatha! This was the last straw! He wanted this son of a bitch dead! Jax pulled his bandana over his face, drawing his gun and aiming it right at the teller's head. “Put the money in the bag, you son of a bitch! You have ten seconds to get going before I riddle that ugly skull of yours with lead!”
The teller froze, and his hands shot up into the air. “Ah! Wait, ok! I’ll give you the money, just please don’t shoot me!” He began filling up a bag of cash, handing it to Jax with shaky hands. But that wasn't enough for him. The adrenaline was rushing, and he wanted to keep that high.
“Open the safe.”
“I-I’m not supposed to-”
“OPEN THE GODDAMN SAFE BEFORE I BLOW YOUR HEAD OFF!”
He opened the safe, and inside was a jackpot. Bill stacks, gold bars, jewelry, and bonds, enough to let him live a life of luxury for the rest of his days. Jax took everything he could carry before bolting out onto the streets. He hoisted himself onto his horse, and he gave the town a big middle finger before bolting off into the desert. Jax looked behind him and saw he was being pursued. He let out a crazed laugh. He hadn't felt so alive since… he…
BANG!
Jax felt a bullet whizz past his ear, the heat singeing the fur. So, they wanted a gunfight. Well then, that's what he was going to give them. A gunfight with THE Jax Conejo! Jax aimed his revolver behind him, pulling the trigger.
BANG!
Again.
BANG!
Again.
BANG!
A loud whail echoed across the desert as one of the men on horseback fell to the ground, blood spewing from his gut, the crimson liquid pooled into the dirt, and he stirred no more. Jax left the men pursuing him behind in a cloud of dust. He had escaped the law yet again! Another flawless robbery carried out by the fiercest outlaw in the country!
“Yah!” He spurred his horse onward, feeling the wind and dust against his face. This was what it meant to be alive! But then, his horse toppled to the ground following another ear-piercing bang, having been shot in the leg. Jax was thrown from its back, rolling across the rocky terrain, its skin scraping on the rocks and cacti. Before he could even reorient himself, a hand had grabbed him by the neck, and he was in a headlock. He left the familiar blade of a knife pressed against his neck. He turned his head up, where he saw the bandit from the wanted poster. She smiled with her sharp teeth.
“Hey there, fucker. You’re in some big trouble, aren’t you?”
Jax tried to break away from her grip. “Kiss my ass.”
“I wouldn’t say things like that if I were you.”
The men pursuing him caught up to him, their guns aimed at the two of them. A purple chess piece got off his horse and approached the two of them.
“Give him up. The rabbit is ours.”
She laughed. “Have you forgotten that I’m just returning the favor here? I'll give him to ya, but not until I have some cash. This petty robber should cost you… Let's say $100? Because if not, well, I’m afraid I'll have to show everyone what the inside of his throat looks like.”
Petty robber?! How dare she! He had a bounty far higher than hers! He was no petty robber! He had killed hundreds of men before; the man he had shot just now was simply another body to add to his count.
The chess piece gestured to the bags of money Jax had stolen from the bank. “Take what you see fit and get out of here.”
“Glad to see that you remember our agreement, Dictatorer. Alright then. I’ll be on my way. Enjoy the rabbit!”
The bandit smiled as she took a bag of cash, dropping Jax to the ground and riding away into the desert.
Jax’s arms and legs were soon bound in rope, and he was hoisted onto a horse's backside. He was in some deep shit.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
He was locked in the sheriff's office, his arms still bound now to the bed in his holding cell. Dictatorer slapped him across the face.
“Alright, you jackass. You're gonna be in here for a long time, you get me?”
Jax spat at him. That earned him another hit
“Where did you come from? I ain’t never seen you here around these parts before.”
“No hablo inglés, cerdo.” He smirked. He loved to toy with lawmen like this. He got beaten again, and the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.
“Don’t bullshit me here, I know you can, rabbit! You'd best tell me the truth, or I’ll see to it that you’re hanged. I know folks like you all too well. You think you can come in here and rob us of our hard-earned cash? Well, we don't take too kindly to criminals like you. You killed one of our best men in cold blood! You think you’re so untouchable that you can get away with murder because you’ve gone so long in a lawless land. Well, times are changing! If it were up to me, I would have a noose around your neck by dawn! People like you are what's wrong with society. These are hard-working folks. Do you even think about what you did?!”
Jax spat the blood from his mouth and chuckled. “Si. Tu madre.”
The purple chess piece then pistol-whipped him, and everything went black.