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Perception is a fickle thing. A person’s perception is dangerously subjective and easily manipulated. While this does make deceit easier, it also makes projecting the perfect image much harder. One can never be too sure what they think they are affecting is what others are concluding.
Janus, therefore, prefers not to be perceived much at all.
Truthfully, he’d never meant to reveal himself. The real him was an ugly, self serving little thing with more flaws than strengths. He’d been content to masquerade as the others when he needed to say his piece, but his hand had been forced. Even so, he’d been sure to cover every part of himself possible; a concealing cloak, gloves, and even a hat to cover his hair. Only his face was left uncovered, and he wouldn’t want to cover that anyway.
(A mask would be too on the nose anyways, he thought, when he couldn’t quite find one that fit what he wanted.)
Every piece of him was measured. Every lie, every sarcastic remark, every truth. His tone of voice, dress, and affectation. Even his scent he’s masked with various perfumes. Because if any piece of the real him bled through, the others would surely scorn him.
This is how he wants it. This is his life.
But, of course, the other sides have a way of worming secrets out of people.
They are gathered in the living room - not Thomas’s actual living room, but the not-so-perfectly mirrored living room in the mindscape. Virgil is wringing his hands at his usual spot, sitting on the stairs, while the other light sides share the couch. Remus is hiding in the closet (unbeknownst to the sides other than Janus).
Janus is standing in between the living room and kitchen, closest to the door.
“I believe,” Logan is saying, “that we could better perform our jobs as the facets of Thomas’ personality if we were more integrated into each other's lives. Obviously, there has been discourse among us -”
“Understatement of the century,” Roman interrupts, glaring at Janus. Janus smiles smugly as Logan continues talking.
“and I believe we can find a way to work more cohesively.”
Patton claps his hands together, leaning forward on the couch. “Oooh! Like trust building exercises! I think we should all go around in a circle, and say our faaavorite thing in the world! I’ll go first! Um - puppies! Or no, cats! Or uh - oh gosh, I can’t choose.”
Logan pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “That wasn’t quite what I was thinking, Patton.”
“I know,” Virgil says, peering through the bars of the staircase. His piercing eyes land on Janus. “We should play two truths and a lie.”
“Nnnow, Virgil,” Patton begins hesitantly.
Janus widens his eyes. “Oh I would love to,” he says sarcastically. He counts off on his fingers. “I have nothing better to be doing; I’m not bored at all; and Remus has been in the closet this whole time.” He brings a hand up to his mouth, gasping dramatically. “Oh no! I forgot the lie…”
Roman scoffs. “Well, obviously Remus isn’t in the closet.”
A maniacal giggle from said closet gives that one away. Janus rolls his eyes and opens the door, and suddenly a ball of green and black falls to the floor in an array of limbs. “Hiiii,” he says.
Virgil hisses at the sight, grasping the bars of the staircase so tight that his knuckles whiten.
Logan waves his hands in front of himself. “Before this all derails more than it already has, I was thinking of something with more stakes involved.”
“I can do that for ya Lugie,” Remus says.
Janus’ eyes widen - he can see Virgil reaching out as if he could reach Remus from the staircase - but before either of them can do anything, Remus has snapped his fingers.
Janus opens his eyes, taking stock of himself before anything else. He’s reflexively shifted into Roman’s form, complete with the man’s katana, which is better suited to fighting than Janus is. He shifts back before anyone can see, and only then does he look around himself.
They’re in - a castle. Or more accurately, the circular dungeon of a castle. Around them are five doors, each with one of their symbols in the middle, barring Remus’ own.
“Where the hell have you taken us, fiend,” Roman asks, standing at the front of the group. This is partially his domain, in a way. Although, it is Remus’ side of the imagination they’re currently inhabiting.
“Yes, what is this,” Logan asks calmly.
Janus tries to find a corner to stand in, and finds there isn’t one.
“This, little cherubs, is the FEAR DUNGEON!” Remus’ voice echoes and disfigures itself, until it’s hardly more than a growl. “Each of these doors has a nightmare behind it specifically catered to one of you! Isn’t it awesome!”
He stands with his arms wide, as if he’s waiting for applause.
Janus sucks in a breath, and asks as levelly as he can: “And what about this was helpful to Logan’s little activity?”
Remus’ grin grows wider, showing every one of his pointed teeth. “We’re all going to see each other's deepest darkest fears, that’s way deeper than two tooths and a lie or whatever that was!”
Virgil knocks his knuckles together nervously, even as he glares venomously at Remus. “Where’s your door?”
Remus sighs. “Alas. I don’t have any fears to speak of.”
Patton nods. “That does make sense, for you.”
Virgil shakes his head. He throws his hands up. “I - am not participating in this. Nah. No.”
Patton, ever the peacekeeper, looks between Virgil and Remus. “Well - you don’t have to show us your fears, but uh. I don’t mind sharing mine. I mean it’s all imaginary, right? So…nothing can hurt us?”
“That is correct,” Logan confirms, at the same time Remus groans “unfortunately.”
Patton claps his hands together. “Well, then, we may as well get this show on the road!” He walks to his stone door. The knob creaks under his hand as he opens it. Janus follows only once everyone else has already entered.
“What in the Alice in Wonderland,” Roman exclaims, bewildered. They’ve exited a dungeon and entered a dense, dark forest. The humid air feels nice on Janus’ scales, but it also causes his cloak to stick uncomfortably to his arms.
“Isn’t it beautiful,” Remus asks, gripping his brother’s arm.
“It’s - not bad,” Roman concedes, wiping a bead of sweat off his forehead.
Janus fights away a smile at the sight - as unbothered as Remus usually appears, it is always a lie when he says he doesn’t care what Roman thinks.
“Well, I uh. This is certainly spooky but I wouldn’t say woods are my worst fear,” Patton says, stepping further into the foliage.
They all follow, fighting their way through an abandoned path overgrown with flora.
Remus giggles.
Patton takes another step forward and suddenly screeches. He flaps his hands and sputters, twisting around and grabbing at his own face. Remus giggles at the sight.
“What’s wrong,” Roman asks, placing a hand on Patton’s shoulder.
“Spi-spiderweb! All over me! In my mouth!”
Ah. Janus sees now. Shimmery translucent threads on Patton’s face and the front of his sweater.
Roman spins Patton around, eyeing him up and down. “No spiders. No spiders!”
Patton grips Roman’s shoulders with bruising strength. There’s a crazed look in his eyes as he says, “where there are spiderwebs. There are spiders.”
Remus giggles again. Janus looks at him, eyes narrowed, as the others are preoccupied with Patton. The Duke’s eyes flick above Roman and Patton every once in a while. Janus follows his gaze and promptly pales.
He clears his throat, drawing the attention of the others. “Perhaps we should keep walking,” he suggests, keeping his eyes firmly in front of himself.
“And - and subject Patton to more icky sticky spiderwebs,” Roman scoffs. “I think not!”
Janus sighs. “Waiting around for something worse are you?”
Patton blanches.
Roman groans. “Ugh, fine,” he says. He wheels around, winding his leg back to frustratedly kick one of the gnarled trees.
Janus’ eyes widen. “Don’t!”
The toe of Roman’s boot hits the tree, and the canopy above them shakes, and thousands of tiny spiders drop onto their heads. Patton screeches, and so do all the others. Remus cackles, opening his mouth, which allows the little creatures to crawl inside and that image is no more terrifying than the feeling of millions of tiny legs on Janus’ face and he can’t imagine how Patton must be feeling at the moment.
Only once Remus is done cackling with mirth does he summon a door in front of them - Virgil is the first one through, tugging a frozen Patton behind him. As each of them passes, the imaginary spiders explode, as though some invisible electric bug trap separates the forest room from the dungeon. Patton’s door shuts itself behind them and a giant metal lock connected to a chain clacks shut over the doorknob.
No one says anything for a moment. And then Roman punches Remus’ shoulder. “YOU FUCKER,” he screams.
Remus does jazz hands. “We trauma bonded!”
“That is not the correct usage of that term,” Logan begins, fixing his tie. His hair is mussed up a bit, and his voice is a little breathless. “Trauma bonding is actually more akin to stockholm syndrome-”
“Not the time,” Virgil snaps, one arm wrapped around Patton in comfort.
“That was-” Patton’s voice shakes as he speaks, tears welling in his eyes. He seems to grasp for words. “Sssooooo creative!”
“So. No more of that,” Logan states.
Remus pouts, genuinely taken aback it seems. “What? But that wasn’t even the best one!”
“I appreciate your contribution, Remus, but this was -”
“Let’s do Janus,” Virgil says. “If we need to ‘build trust’ with anyone here, it’s him.”
Janus’ eyes shoot from Patton to Virgil. “No,” he says firmly.
Roman interjects. “But. You’re Deceit, so no means yes, right,” he says, looking to Virgil for approval.
“Exactly,” Virgil grins.
Janus takes a breath to steady himself even as his nerves scream at him to find a way out. “You two are oversimplifying-”
“Jan-Jan it is,” Remus yells, throwing open the door with his symbol on it. Janus’ eyes widen as he’s pulled, as though magnetically, toward the door. “SSStop,” he hisses. He grips the edge of the door frame to stop himself. But Virgil pushes his way through, dislodging Janus’ gloved hands.
“I don’t think this is fair, guys,” Patton says, following them into the room. “If Janus doesn’t want to share his fears with us, he doesn’t have to!”
Janus feels a jolt of appreciation for the man. But as soon as Logan steps foot through the door, opening his mouth to offer his own input, the door slams shut and disappears.
Remus shrugs his shoulders, smiling sheepishly. “Oops.”
Janus clenches his fists angrily, thoroughly stamping the emotion down.
He looks around himself.
They’re at the beginning of a long, carpeted yellow hallway. Bright fluorescent lights buzz above them.
Janus shakes his head. “Remus, what is this,” he snaps.
Remus places a hand on his shoulder. “All you have to do is walk down to the end of the hallway!”
Logan tilts his head. “Be careful, Janus. I believe he is omitting something.”
Janus stares at Logan incredulously. “I totally didn’t already know that.”
He turns back toward the hallway.
He steels himself and begins walking.
Nothing jumps out at him as he walks. No freaky creatures only Remus could dream up pop out of hidden doorways. It could almost be peaceful.
Except there’s a prickling on his neck.
He twists around, baring his fangs menacingly. “Whoever’s ssstaring at me, stop it now,” he hisses.
Everyone looks a bit confused, or concerned, bar Remus.
“I don’t think any of us were, bud,” Patton says.
The prickling on the back of his neck increases, and he swivels around again. The hallway in front of him is empty.
A hand settles on his arm. “Are you okay,” Patton asks.
“Yes,” Janus answers automatically. He starts walking again, more quickly now.
The feeling of being watched only increases.
“Does everyone else, um. Feel that,” Roman asks nervously. Janus spares a glance to see him furling into himself a little, rubbing his arms.
“Like we’re being watched,” Logan confirms. “Yes, I do.”
Virgil and Patton offer their own confirmations.
“It feels…judgy?” Patton, whose hand is still on Janus’ arm, says in a quiet voice.
Janus tucks himself deeper into his cloak.
Which promptly disappears from off his back. His gloves and hat disappear too, leaving him exposed.
Suddenly, Patton’s hand is touching bare skin and the invisible eyes are honed in on it.
With nothing to hide behind, and instincts mounting high, Janus bolts.
He has to find a place to hide. So he can recoup and rebuild and keep hiding all the parts of him that aren’t meant to be seen.
But it’s one long hallway, with an end that doesn’t seem to be getting any closer.
Soon, the urge to run is replaced by the urge to curl up in a ball, so he puts his back against the wall and does just that.
The other sides catch up to him, some more out of breath than others.
“Geez you’re fast,” Patton says, hands on his knees as he pants for breath.
Virgil’s eyes are darting around, trying to locate invisible eyes. “Are - are you okay,” he stutters out.
Janus doesn’t answer. Well, he does, but it’s an unrelated screech of a plea. “Don’t look at me!”
Remus cackles, and Janus wants to kill him.
His laugh sounds like thousands of voices cackling at him.
“Enough,” Logan yells, like he’s yelling over an imaginary crowd. “Remus. Take us back. Now.”
Something in his voice must intimidate Remus just enough for him to grant the other side’s wish.
They aren’t brought back to the dungeon. They’re suddenly back in the living room, the warm glow of the lights contrasting greatly with the harshness of everything they’d just gone through.
Janus immediately feels the pressure of his cloak, gloves, and hat. He sighs a deep breath of relief.
Everyone is quiet.
It gives Janus enough time to rebuild his affect.
“Well,” he says in a silky voice. “That was a delight, Remus, and I don’t harbor any ill will towards you for that!”
Remus gulps.
“Now. This was fun, really, but I-”
“I’m so sorry, Jan.” Virgil blurts.
He’s in the stairwell again, but he’s standing this time. There’s a look of panic on his face.
Janus doesn’t know what he’s feeling at the moment. But Deceit knows exactly what to say.
“No harm, no foul.”
Virgil’s face falls. Because he, at least, usually knows when Janus is lying.
“I. I thought. I was angry at you, and I was curious but I also thought - I didn’t think you could be afraid.” He pauses. “Not of. Anything serious.”
“Truthfully,” Janus starts. But he can’t actually bring himself to say anything truthful at the moment. So he bites his lip instead, shaking his head.
Remus speaks up, uncharacteristically quiet. “Sorry Janus. Sorry Patton. I was trying to help us bond!”
Janus’ heart softens as his eyes land on Remus, dejectedly sprawled across the floor. But Deceit’s face stays hardened. “Destroy that place, would you?” He says, because commands are much easier to issue than lies or truths ever are.
“If you don’t mind my asking,” Logan says, looking ruffled. “What exactly was that fear? Being watched?”
Deceit shakes his head.
But Remus has no filter.
“Janny doesn’t like when people see too much of ‘im. He thinks if you see the real him, you’ll hate-”
Deceit places his shoe over Remus’ mouth before he can continue. “If you say any more, I will ensure that we never entertain any one of your ideas ever again,” he says.
Threats are also easy.
Remus pouts, but when Deceit removes his shoe, he doesn’t say anything.
Deceit tucks his hands into his cloak.
Patton speaks then, and it’s soft and comforting and oh so honest. “Y’know, Janus, you really don’t have to share any part of yourself that you don’t want us to see. But trust me when I say…there’s nothing you could show us that would change my opinion of you.”
Janus can’t help the scoff that slips through. “That’s easy for you to say,” he mutters.
“What do you mean,” prompts Patton.
“Your worst fear is spiders. My worst fear is already just the truth.”
“Well, how do you know that?”
Janus shakes his head, exasperated. They should already understand this. “My true self is so abhorrent that Thomas’ imagination” he gestures with his hands to Remus and Roman, the latter of which reels back in surprise. “saw fit to permanently plaster proof of it all over my face.” He then gestures to the scales on his left side, and immediately regrets it when everyone’s eyes follow the gesture.
He turns his head, obscuring the scaled side in shadows.
He sucks in a breath, releasing it slowly. When he speaks again, his voice is level. “The ‘Janus’ you know is a carefully curated image that fits my needs. You’ll never see any more than that.”
“Falsehood,” Logan states.
Janus rolls his eyes. “Please tell me what I lied about this time, teach.”
Logan straightens. “The Looking Glass Self is a concept proposed by Charles Horton Cooley that proposes that a person's sense of self is determined by how others see them. There are three steps involved in this process: first, imagining how we look to another person; second, imagining their evaluation or judgement of us; and three, developing feelings such as pride or shame based on that - imaginary evaluation.”
“I am familiar,” Janus states.
Logan gestures toward Janus, eyes piercing straight through him. “You have imagined our judgement of your - as you say ‘true self,’ and internalized the idea that we could not possibly like that version of you. You have then curated an alternate self in order to feel better interacting amongst us. Charles Horton Cooley said it best himself: ‘I am not what I think I am, and I am not what you think I am. I am what I think you think I am.’”
Roman blinks. “I totally understood all of that.”
Janus sighs. “That actually seems to support my point, doesn’t it?”
Logan raises a finger. “Not exactly. Because your imaginary idea of our reactions to your true self are just that - imaginary. You can’t know how we’ll truly react to knowing the real you until we know the real you. Essentially:” here, Logan’s voice softens a bit. “You have portrayed yourself as the villain in the past because you thought that is how we would perceive you - and then we did perceive you that way, because you showed yourself that way.”
“A self fulfilling prophecy,” Virgil states.
“Yes. Whatever your ‘true self’ may look like, you cannot know how we will react to it.”
Roman crosses his arms. “And no one could be worse than Remus. So.”
Janus furrows his brows. “I - hm.”
Patton walks forward, grasping Janus’ gloved hands in his. “Again, you don’t have to show us anything you don’t want to. But you shouldn’t be - afraid of us seeing it!”
Virgil looks down sheepishly. “I - um. I’m sorry again.”
Roman scuffs the toe of his boot against the carpet. “Me too. I know when you said ‘no’ you meant ‘no’ and I disregarded that…not very princely of me, hm?”
Janus sighs. “It is…alright. I forgive you.”
“I’m sorry too, Jammy,” Remus yelps from the ground.
“I don’t forgive you.”
“Aww.”
Logan claps his hands together. “Well. This certainly is not what I expected when I proposed an exercise today. But, all things considered, it seems to have been,” he raises a hand, gesturing across the room. “Successful?”
“Eeehh,” Virgil says, shrugging his shoulders.
“Successful indeed,” Janus mutters.
“Maybe we actually should do two truths and a lie next time,” Virgil says.
“Don’t push it.”