CHAPTER 2 OF TRDC POSTED!!!!
(this will be having a new chapter 1-4 times weekly!)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/76903696/chapters/201439046
Everybody is reminded of unpleasant memories regarding the abstracted characters, and their past life. Except for Pomni, as she never met someone prior their abstractions. Feeling a bit left out, Pomni feels obliged to help all the others with their grief-esque problems. Ragatha especially is reminded of her mother about all the time all because of that damned perfect Piano. She can't resent that awful thing, as she is no sweeter than the Piano.
You figure out on your own whose chapter this is for! This one has got lots of symbolism, so enjoy!!! I honestly like this one more than chapter 1, and as ofo now I’m not done aith the chapter yet ! Sorry if its bad, its so long
the chapters under the cut
Chapter 2 “The Piano Is No Sweeter Than You.”
“Uh… How are we gonna tune it if we don’t have that one app?” Pomni asks, hesitant. “We’ll just do it the old-fashioned way!” Ragatha ensures, “Besides, what app?” She asks. “Oh, right. Before I came here, you’d use an application on a phone to tune your instruments.” Pomni explains, “It’s been pretty recently thought of.”
“Wow, that’s ve-ry useful!” Ragatha drawls, “Way easier than manually tuning a piano.” She adds. “Definitely,” Pomni chuckles, “I don’t even know how you do that without getting bored!” She tilts her head. “Well, the first time my mother tried to teach me I was bored, but she scolded me and I ended up actually learning how to do it my own way.” Ragatha recalls, a memory that was shortly sweet.
“Your own way? So your mother didn’t help?” Pomni questions, “No, it’s just that her way was too complicated for me, so I tried something else.” Ragatha answers. “Oh, that’s good. I thought your mother just locked you in the room or something, but I guess that’s ridiculous.” Pomni giggles, “Nah, my mom wouldn’t do that because of tuning.” Ragatha refuses.
“...Oh.” Pomni looks awkwardly, “Oh! I mean— She wouldn’t do that at all, haha…” Ragatha unconvincingly convinces herself. “Sure..” Pomni nods shakily, “Any idea what you’ll play? Do you have them memorized?” She comments. “Yeah! What’s a piano player without memorization?” Ragatha jokes.
“Yeah, I guess that’s the whole point.” The jester nods, thinking to herself how silly such a question is. “Anyway; I’ll play twinkle twinkle little star— Since it’s a classic!” Ragatha cuts herself off, preparing her fingers on the piano, “Oh. I forgot I only have two fingers, haha!” She tugs at her cast, a result of her previous injury.
“You could try still doing it? Maybe tilt it?” Pomni suggests.
“Your positioning your fingers wrong! Don’t you understand?! How much times do you have to be told, #####?” Ragatha heard her past mother say, unable to make out the name she called her.
“That’s a good idea!” Ragatha tries, and it pretty much works, even if it’s pretty inconvenient, “Thanks.” She smiles bittersweetly. She stares at her chunk of a finger, not liking the sight.
“But mama, I—” “You’re a girl. An elegant one. You’re supposed to call me mother.” Her mother interrupts her, “Sorry it’s just my finger’s b—” “Big? Yeah. No wonder I put you on a diet! When was your last cheat day?” Her mother speaks over her again, and she shits up as she was always conditioned to.
“Ha.. ha.. that’s weird… there’s nothing to eat, so I wonder why my fingers are fat?” Ragatha laughs weakly, “...Ragatha… you’re a doll..” Pomni voices concern. “R-right! Koff. I nearly forgot about that.” Ragatha coughs up.
“You’re fiiine..” Pomni meekly assures, knowing something’s up with her. “Anyway, let’s go check up on Zooble, I wanted to tell them something.” Ragatha backpedals, speedwalking out the room. “What was it?” Pomni questions, “Oh, just that I found out how to tune the piano is all.”
“Guess we could try playing it like you did before yesterday?” Pomni taps her chin.
“Before yesterday…” Ragatha’s head droops, deeply ashamed as she looks at her stomach, which naturally, had an actual size.
“Yeah.” Ragatha deadpans.
‘Maybe she can replace my hand with one of hers? Mine’s too fat for this.’ Ragatha thinks to herself, “Didn’t Zooble know how to drum?” Pomni follows up, “They did, didn’t they? Maybe we can find one for them.” Ragatha nods.
Ragatha knocks. Zooble doesn’t answer.
‘Not Caine again…’ Zooble complains in his head. ‘Ugh. He doesn’t know what personal space does he?’ She continues. ‘Maybe it’s important.’ They get up and open the door, “What do you want?” To their surprise, the one behind the door is Ragatha, and not Caine.
“Oh. I thought you were Caine.” Zooble shakes their head, “I was wondering, since you play the drums, maybe you have one in your toybox?” Ragatha bluntly interrogates, “Huh? Oh maybe. I’ll check.. I doubt it though.” Zooble shrugs.
“The thing is, the piano looks exactly like my past life, so I thought it could be the same for you.” Ragatha comments. “Maybe.” Zooble deadpans, “I’ll help out!” Pomni rushes to the box, “AGH! When were you here?” Zooble is startled, “Oh, my bad. Just quiet.” Pomni sheepishly scratches the back of her small neck.
‘Like Gangle…’ Zooble is reminded of her friend, ‘I wonder if she’s okay.’ They think. “Hey, do you think we should check up on Gangle?” Pomni asks, as she hold up Gangle's manager mask, turning it to Zooble. “It’s just.. the mask reminded me she left so abruptly.” Pomni explains.
“Actually, I was thinking the same.” Zooble looks at the mask, “I was looking forward to the drums, though…” Ragatha sighs, “We can go without you. Feel free to look at my parts box, too.” Zooble assures.
“Aw, that’s sweet.” Ragatha thanks her, Zooble and Pomni leave. ‘Guess I’ll be left alone, again…’ Ragatha snickers, although weakly. ‘Stop acting like a child. Only children care if someone leaves or not.’ She scolds herself.
“I leave for two hours, and you’re already crying? Oh, what would you do without me, dearest?” Ragatha’s mom hugs her, “You know I love you. I just have work to do, sweetie!” She patronizes her. “O..okay mama…” Ragatha sniffs, “Mama?” Her mom’s eyes widen. “M-mother…”
‘Ugh… Not… again.’ She complains.
‘ I could distract myself by playing that tune I memorized on the piano, since I have it memorized, I probably won’t make a mistake.’ Ragatha smiles at the thought.
“Now go play piano. You need to have the next song memorized flawlessly before my alarm goes off, okay?” Her mother pats her head, “You know what it means if you get it wrong. And you know you're better than that.” She replies.
“Y… Yes! I’ll play the song, mama!” The little girl jumps joyfully, “Uh, uh, uh~” Her mother drawls. “I mean… mother.” Ragatha stammers. “That’s my girl.”
Ragatha’s eye widen. Did the memories have to keep coming now? Just when she thought she was over them? She’s an adult! She should know better than this!
‘I guess she was right sometimes. And I don’t miss her, but she did love me… So I should be grateful…’ She sighs dreadfully, ‘Well at least, I still love her.’ She numbly adds, her eyebags showing.
Gangle, dull, looks at her sketchbook. Photos she drew, photos she drew with Kaufmo, and Ribbit, the only ones she knows abstracted, well that she remembers. ‘Will Jax be mad at me for having these drawings?’ She turns the page. ‘Hey. You healed, you can’t be the same as before, remember?’ A voice in her head tells her cheerfully.
‘Think positive. Think of someone who actually drew with you. Crying was always stupid, remember? It always made things worse.’ The voice giggles, mocking her tears that pulled on her eyelids.
‘You’re right…’ Gangle tells herself, ‘I can’t be crying. I should be grateful someone left me to begin with. I only would’ve hurt them more. Like he did.’ She continues. ‘Exactly! You’re just like him. You just do it subtly— By guilt-tripping everyone with those little tears of yours!’ Her ‘friend,’ the positive voice chuckles.
‘Yeah. He’s just more genuine…’ She frowns, turning away so the voice doesn’t see it. ‘Are you smiling?’ It rears its ugly head, “N…no…” Gangle, out loud, admits,
Suddenly, her drawings come to life, Kaufmo and Ribbit smiling at her. Colors everywhere, even her OCs were there! It was like a surprise party, just for her!
“Why don’t you play with us?” A Ribbit like shape holds out her hand, her eyes glitching, “Sure!” Gangle wraps her ribbon-hand around hers, “Let’s draw!” And something like Kaufmo laughs, “Guess what the closet said to the drawer!”
“Uh… hi?” Gangle asks, “I’m tired, hold my clothes for me!” Then everyone in the room laughed. Which was odd, because no one laughed at Kau—
Her breathing heavy, she awakes abruptly. ‘I need to hide that sketchbook.’ Gangle puts it under her bedsheet, and walks up to her doorframe after putting on her comedy mask. After all, this was the best time to test it. ‘Act like you’re asleep, act like you’re asleep, act like you’re asleep, act like you’re asle—’
The door opens to Zooble and Pomni. “Are you okay?” Zooble furrows her brows, “Yeah, we wanted to check up on you.” Pomni smiles, as not to worry her. ‘Act like you’re a—’ “I was asleep, sorry I took long!” Gangle interrupts her own thoughts.
“No it’s fine. We’re the ones who interrupted you.” Zooble assures, “Yeah! No worries!” Pomni reassures. “Thank you guys; but I’m fine. My social battery ran out, that’s all.” Gangle smiles widely, her eyes crippling with.
“Oh. Do you have your comedy mask on?” Zooble worries, “Yeah? I wear it to be comfortable. It just feels good.” Gangle replies, “You don’t need to feel sorry for me.” She comments, out of the blue.
“Oh, okay.” Pomni isn’t sure whether she should be agreeing or comforting her. “I thought you were more comfo—” “Nah, the comedy mask is better.” Gangle interrupts Zooble, “Oh.. you sure?” Pomni raises a brow, “I mean, in Spud—” “We don’t talk about that!” Gangle objects while smiling, her mouth open, almost uncannily. “Sorry.” Pomni looks down.
“Anyway, I’m fine, I’ll be sleeping now.” Gangle shuts the door. “She is not okay.” Pomni points the obvious out, “Yeah. F[Sink!]k no. Let’s be there tomorrow?” Zooble arranges a time, “Yeah.”
Ragatha watches from Zooble’s doorframe as Gangle looks happy. ‘Isn’t it nice that her friends aren’t leaving her? Ragatha, stop it you’re being ridiculous.’ She mumbles, finally finding the drums.
They’d all be disappointed of her.
“Hey, Buttondolly!” Caine tries out a new nickname, and Ragatha turns from confusion, not familiarity like he intended. “Did you want some food? You look sad, so you look hungry!” Caine exclaims, "No.. I’ll pass. It’s almost bedtime anyway.” She shakes her head disapprovingly.
Caine, disappointed, walks away in shame. The digital food in his hand going to waste as he kicks his legs sorrowfully.
“It’s been a week since you ate anything with sugar, hun! I’m very proud of you.” Ragatha’s mother puts her little hands in hers. “You lost weight. Keep doing that, it’s easy to be fat when you’re a teen. Don’t forget you’re a big girl now! You’re turning thirteen!” Her mother hugs her tightly, as Ragatha’s eyes look soulless and pale.
Even if she can recall the memory; the only thing she can recall from her own looks is an eye the can’t open.
“Why aren’t you smiling, dearie? You finally did it. Don’t tell me you aren’t grateful for my advice?” Her mother shifts tone. “I am, mother. I’m not hungry at all. You did amazing.” Ragatha obliges, “Then show it in your voice.” Her now irritated mother demands. “Huh?” Ragatha snaps out of it. “You’re not even smiling.”
Ragatha awkwardly smiles, but immediately gives up, ‘Childhood memories were always described to be happy and nostalgic, so why..?’
“I’m tryi—” “After all I’ve done for you. You do this. Of course, but of course. You’ve always been a disgraceful daughter.” Her mom interrupts, “Y-you’re not proud?!” Ragatha tries not to cry. “Not anymore. You’re supposed to be cheery about your achievements. Especially when I caused it. I can’t believe you.” The lady meant to be her mother is disappointed. She kicks her, as gently as it could look.
“Wait, I’ll smile! Just please! Tell me you're proud of me please!” Ragatha gets on her knees from the physical shock, crying. “Is this really how you’re gonna treat your husband? Beg for his love? He could hurt you, sweetheart.” She cups her daughter’s cheeks with her palms.
‘God, I need to grow up.’
“Hi Ragatha! We’re back!” Pomni waves. “Oh, hey! I found the drums!” Ragatha exclaims, pointing at a quite large drumset. It shouldn’t have been able to fit in such a box. “Thanks a lot.” Zooble analyzes it, “This old thing? Aw, you’ve no need to say that.” Ragatha shyly chuckles, a little proud.
“So how’s Gangle..?” She interviews, “Well… Definitely not okay.” Pomni shakes her head, making an ‘X’ with her arms. “Why?” Ragatha ponders, “We could tell with how she was acting, and how she smiled. We wanted to make sure she’s okay by tomorrow, would you like to help when we wake up?” Zooble invites.
“Yeah, she’s my friend!” Ragatha couldn’t decline. “Great. Anyway, I’m gonna sleep. You two should too.” Zooble instructs, “Will do!” Pomni salutes jokingly, making Ragatha laugh.
The two head to their respective rooms, sweetly giving their goodbyes. Though even if Pomni appeared to have entered her room, her gaze at Ragatha lingered a little longer as she paused before closing the door shut. She knew something was wrong. Just couldn’t prove it yet.
Ragatha finally entered her room, closing the door behind her. Frustrated, she flops onto the bed like the doll she is. ‘She’s not here, so why do I still think about her..?’ She complains about herself in her head.
‘She can’t even reach me here.’ Ragatha rationalizes, ‘There’s nothing that could be doing this to me.’ She adds. ‘So why?’.
She buries her face in her child-like hands.
“Nobody’s hitting you!” The motherly lady points at the teen girl, Ragatha, holding a plushie, “I know.” Ragatha tugs at the doll’s yarnlike hair. “So why’d the school call me to ask, hmm?” Her mother gets in her face. “They just randomly assumed that! Not my—” “‘Cause you didn’t smile.”
S̵̢̡̢̧̞̦̰̟̮͉̻͚̜̓̑͋͜h̷̢̥͍̬̰̊͋̊͌̇͑̃̿͐͝ę̸̢̺͉̯̹̽̎̆͋̉̿͝ ̶̧̹͙͉̣̺̣̪̗̘̤̃̂͐͋̈́̔͌́́͛͑̇̊̚͜͜͝a̶͓͎̯̣̲̿l̷̞͇̮̂̊͌͗̐̐̈́͒͌̍͝r̷̡̨̬͖͇̪͓̞͔̳̗̻̮̬̓̍̀̏̓̌͌̋́͆̐̆͠ȩ̵̧͕͖͕͚́̈́͛̍̒̊͑̋͑͋͗͑͛͝͠ä̶̬̙̣̩̗͓̱͙́̉̓͊͝d̷̹̤̻̍y̸̢̞͈̤̥̞̳̦̥͎̰͖̱͂̎̅̉̈́͆͋̉̄́̍ ̴̦̠̐̈́̑͌̒̐͌͗̈̀͘͝͠k̷͚̲̙͚̏̓͑̈̚ņ̴̡̬̣͚̀͐͝e̶̛̛̪͈͖̗̖̲̘͂̔̓̈͐̃̏͒̅ŵ̶͔̣̳͈͖̲̪̤͙̍̔̐͘͜ͅ ̸̈̋̀ͅh̸̯̩͓̃̓͑̃̄͊͝͝ę̶͔͚̲̱͖̙̭̪̠͓̏͐̋̐̃̚r̶̰̔̐́̓̊͝ ̶̢͛͆̊̒̓̌́̎̊͛̄f̵̢̢͚͕̞͕̘̮̙̐́̇̆̆̈́̄͐̓̿͗͐͘̕ŗ̵̧̺̹̝̟̠͓̽̈́̀ͅo̷̢̢̧͕̲̝̳̞̝̼͉̱͒͘͜ͅw̶̙̱͙͇̺̭̩̓̏́̃̀̀̎̄͋̈͗̈͑͒͝ņ̴̻̳̘̹̠̺̰͙͈͉̥̰̮̒͑̈́̂̊̓̓̈́̀̚͜͠ ̸̨̛̠͉͎̳͇̓̆̋̎̆̾̈́̕̕͝͠c̶̨̖͖͛̊͑͛́̽͑̓͊̑͐͝͠ò̶̼̟̞̲͉̞͙͕̐̾̎̇u̸͍̳̱̫̼̝̥͌͛̈́̅͒̂̍ļ̸̡͓̔̑̿̎͘d̶̨̠̜̲̥̬͓͓̣̱͙̹̤̙͖̏͊ ̷̻̟̺͇̘͌̒̉̀̄̓̌̒̚͝h̸̡̨̡͍̪̤̮̻͇̱̹͓̄̏̆͑ͅự̵̢̯͓̥̱͈͚̲̘̳͂̂̌͆̓̇͌̽̏ͅr̷͔̳̫̱̲̩͓̤̱̙̻̍̂̕ͅt̸̛͎̞̯̮̔̌͒̏̅̆̋̀̐͗͒͌̕͜ ̷̢̛͎͚̘͚̖̹̫̜̮̯̯͖̽̎̈́̈̂̏̄̅̅̈͘̚͝o̷̢͕̦̯͕̙͙̣͈͎͍̖̱̟̽̿̀͋͑͌̾͗̎̀͊͐̑͘͝t̵̨̧̨̯͕͚̹͖̯̭͚̉́̐̀ḣ̵̡̘͍͙̳͎̬͎̟͚̮̮͒̂͋̿̈́͊͜e̷̠͆̊͐͛̉́͛́́̿̑͂̉̚͝r̴̲̝̘̤̪̟̖̰̤͂̂̈́͌͂͋̀͒͐̒̌͝ṣ̶̢̡̭͍̟̰̲̞̹̥̒͋̔͑̐̄̅͌͊̀̋͝
“...” Ragatha stays silent. “You’re blessed. Act like it and smile.” Her mother orders, “Don’t you get it? I get these calls every time you’re sad, and they act like I could be abusive, sniff, but I’d never do that to you. I love you, I love you.” Her mother sobs, putting her hands on her daughter’s two malnourished shoulders.
Ragatha’s eyes widen. She feels herself become euphoric. She’s never felt this kind of love before! She never knew she was worth something so— “So w-why do you need.. m-me to.. prove it…?” Her mother says in between sobs, “I-I’m so sad, I don’t like n-needing to p-prove why I love the d-daughter I’ve raised like a doll… Do you think y-you’re the l-luckiest girl in the world…?” Her mother turns to her, her face red, pale, and wet.
ŝ̷̰̠͍̪̼̲̼͎p̴̢̜͙̎͑͛r̵̨̛̖͖̞͉̾̃̋̆̅́͒3̶̘̝̈́͐͊̈̕ͅ4̵̬̏͑̊ḑ̴̧̬͍̬͉̥́̀ ̷̧̡͙̟͚͍̗̽̊͌͜l̶̩̋̾́0̴̢̱̙̦́v̵̱͐͂̒̈́̀͐̐͠é̵̳̬̲̯̮͉̈̂͗͘̚͜ ̶̨̺̺̅̓͘̕Ă̴͙̙̣n̷̮̩̔͛̀͛̑͘͜͠Ḏ̵͔͍̍͑͑̕ ̵̧̨̫̫͇̹̮̜͑̀j̶̛͕̮̣̣̮̣̜̓́͋̆̃́͠°̵̹̩̮̥̙̗̄̊̚ỹ̴̧͙̳̈̔͑͠ ̶̯̅̋͛͊́̚g̷̦̑́͝1̶̡̢̅͐͌̐͑v̷̢̥͓̩͓̯̈́̂̑3̴̩̻͖̝̥̭̀͋͌̀ͅ ̵͚̞̭͌̒̈́̄͝w̷̹̑̏ͅḥ̶̛̙̬͑̌̌̽̍̒̒@̷̝̈́̚y̷̧̛͇̻̩̣̆̽͜ ̸̤̜͕̘̓s̶̤̗̘̦͝h̴͙̩̩̙̽̏̔́͛͠ȩ̴̢͉͔̖̓͆͠ ̷̧̤̺͈̜̝͎́͂g̷͙͙̖̠̒̄̈͜a̷͚̪͍͛v̷͚͈̻͇͔̼̲͐̈́͗͋̐͘͝e̶͕̘̗̤̟̦̺̐̑̍͐͠.̴̢̧͇̳̖͕͋̍͘
̸͉̖̼͍̝̪̓̊̈̚ͅ ̵̳̮̝̀̎̑̂̈͜x̷̮̮̘̺̙̫̋̈̏̀̒̄̕ờ̷̩x̶̧̳̺̹̲̽̐̄̂̃̂͜ó̸̢̜̤̳͂̆̋̇͛͠,̷̡̛͔͕͆ ̵͍̝͕̝̙͎͆̓͐͠y̶̻̤̪͐̄̾̌̀̐ó̸͎͉̬̒̄́u̸͈̜̲̮̗̘̯̳̔̾͑̾̊̚̕
“Yes.. because you’re the best!” Ragatha starts euphorically smiling widely. “L-Let them know that, p-please, sweetie, I can’t t-take it anymore…” Her mother begs.
“Okay mama—” “Mother.” “Okay mother!” Ragatha corrects, “Good, now head to your room.” Her mom eerily shifts from her once pink face. “Yeah…” Ragatha hops, until she notices her mom’s face saddening again, “Yes!” She squeals, which pleases her irritable mother.
‘I can’t believe…’ Ragatha’s eyes widen. ‘I’ve… I’ve been doing the SAME!’ She gasps in realization, ‘I shift my mood from happy to sad so.. so easily…! Like her…!’
‘What is wrong with me?! I can’t be this misleading!!! I need to actually be happy.’
Zooble, lazing off on their bed, turns to see a mirror. She turns around, but there’s just yet another. So again, but there’s stoll another. And again. And another. And again. And another. He just gives up, at this point. The room is practically made of mirrors. ‘What was Caine thinking?’
Well, he doesn’t even think. So, nothing. ‘I need to pick something out for tomorrow.’ Zooble picks up the toy box, and places it on her bed. He picks up a few parts. A deer antler, a normal pink hand, and a robot-like arm. It looked almost like a prosthetic. ‘Can’t believe I told Jax that I’m okay with changing all the time.’
‘I’ve got better; but I’m still ugly.’
They put on the deer antler, robot arm, and pink hand. They felt… good. Pluck! Zooble looks down to see a part fell. It resembled a chicken’s beak. Zooble was not going to wear that… thing.
She looks at their wing, and flicks it off. They find a slightly larger and longer wing, that matched the pink of their hand. It was perfect. Too perfect. Is someone there to witness this?
They find another arm, this time it was a zigzag, and its dirty brown color didn’t match the rest of their outfit. Surprisingly, they find a torso piece exactly like theres, except dark blue with that same pink as spots. This was going too well.
Another arm, this time the perfect blue color and it worked like a rubber hos— Wow, okay, who’s doing this? Who made this script? The narrative won’t be interesting if you make it so easy! That arm slaps zooble on the face.
“What the f[Squash!]k?!” Zooble looks at the arm, stunned. The arm starts chasing her around the room as she desperately runs away. She turns around and steps on it, finally stopping it. ‘Holy s[Splash!]t.’
They spot another piece, but this one looks like a clown’s red nose. The one that toots. Just. Like. Kaufmo’s. The one who gave up, despite no one expecting it.
‘You’re a horrible friend.’
‘Ḧ̴̳̤̼̼̮̥͓̥̻̺͎́͒́͛̐̐͋̾̌̈́̈̓͂͋ͅō̵̼̬̹̝̙̪͌̈́̓̊̾͒̃̎̐̿͐̚͘͝ṛ̵̡͓̮̥̺͕̖̦͊̑̌̉̕ṛ̷͔̝̰̹̩̗̻͍̽͂̉̍̓̈̍͋͠͝i̶͎̳̬͐͋̃͐͌̈̋̈́̌͆̚̕͘͝ḇ̴̨͉͇͔̦͎͇̦̭̦̞̫̱̊̎̏̓̌͜l̷̨̛̛̝̥̣͍͕͍͓̹̉̋̔̈́̔̊̈̈̕̕͝͝ę̵͔̉̈́̌̈̽͑̕͝.’
‘To make up for your looks, you could’ve at least acted nicer. You didn’t even bother fake laughing at one joke.’
Zooble looks down, looking at their palm.
‘And now he’s gone. Because of you. Like her. You didn’t think I was going to let you forget, was I?’
‘She’s acting off. You never should’ve mentioned her mother, oh god,’ Pomni anxiously hugs her pillow, ‘Don’t you remember what she said in the lightning round? She doesn’t miss her.’
‘Probably for a good reason, yet you dared to remind her. Of course you did,’ She sighs, her anxiety taking over. ‘Just don’t think about it. Better yet, don’t make her think of it. Aren’t apologies useless?’
‘Your words. Not anyone else’s.’
Pomni gets up, “Okay, I’m not having it. I’ll take a walk to relieve stress.” She asserts. As she is walking, she spots Gangle next to her own doorframe, the one with a happy and misleading version of her avatar, drawing.
‘I wonder what she’s doing here.’ Pomni tilts her head. She didn’t bother to hide, as Gangle was clearly in her own world. Her pencil would scribble every time as she got overwhelmingly frustrated.
‘No. Nobody would like.. this.’ Gangle scribbles over a drawing of Kaufmo. She suddenly wanted to memorialize him more. Everyone has their own ways of grief, I suppose.
She drew him again, this time it felt perfect. It looked exactly as if his doorframe didn’t have an X planted over.
“Oh, hey Gangle!” Pomni greets, startling Gangle, “Hi!! I’m just drawing.” She replies. “May I ask why you’re out of your room?” Pomni asks, “Just wanted a better light!” Gangle answers enthusiastically.
“What’re you—” “I’m not done yet, sorry.” Gangle held her notebook close to her chest, “No it’s fine. It’s your drawing.” Pomni shrugs, “...Do you mean it’s like, in my control?” Gangle’s eyes widen. Nobody trusts her to own something, since she loses it. Or becomes so absor—“I mean yeah, it’s in your notebook.” Pomni raises her left brow, yet supportively.
“Oh, okay. Was confused for a second.” Gangle dismisses, “Now I do wanna show you.. haha..” She giggles. She turns the book, facing Pomni. “Is that Kaufmo?” She questions. “I wanted to memorialize him more. I never really got over his death. I feel bad,” Gangle droops her mask.
“Since I never really laughed at his jokes, y’know?” She looks at Pomni, “I get it. Was his jokes really that bad?” “No it’s just… I’m not usually in the mood for laughing when he says it.” She sugarcoats.
‘Screw you.’ The tragedy part of her tells her, as if it’s not her anymore (it is). ‘Kaufmo was always go—’
“Oh, makes sense. That’s great for you, it’s good to let yourself grieve!” Pomni exclaims, “Cherishing the memories you miss is hard, though.” She continues. “...Yeah.” Gangle agrees.
‘If you missed him so much, you should have been clearer about it.’
“Still, wish I—” “Regretting stuff will make it worse, just let yourself move on. Slowly.” Pomni interrupts, ensuring she understands. “I’ll be heading out, bye! Make sure to sleep!” She walks away.
Gangle decides to listen this time, and opens her own bedroom door; lying on her bed again.
‘Look, I’m sorry. I know you’re never feeling anything other than a negative emotion.’ Gangle talks to herself, her comedy personality showing, shining through her mask.
‘Hey, it’s alright my life has always been a sad emotion, don’t feel sorry for me. Sorry’s been my life’s devotion,’ Her tragedy self replies.
‘Huh? Are you referencing something from the real world? I could've sworn I’ve heard that before.’ Gangle responds.
‘I’m a tragedy for a reason aren’t I?’
Ragatha’s eyebags felt even heavier now. She couldn’t sleep for the life of her
‘Why am I thinking about that now?!’
Ragatha slaps her cheeks, not so it could hurt. ‘You’re over it.’ She convinces herself, ‘You already need to tune that piano anyway. No point of thinking otherwise.’
Ģ̴̭͓̺̥̱̠͕͈͔̤̼̮̭͚͍̻̗͍̬̬̮̝̩̲̫͈̞͕̻̬̞̞̗̻̪̘̲̥̬̫̳̫̻͈̻̙̟͚̣͚͍͚͙̘̟͔̺̭̳̂̋̐̏̍̈́͂͛͐̈́̅̔̇̍̍͐̆̿̃̆̃̍̾͗̎̈́̈́̉̉̽́̎͒̅̈́͘̕͝͝͝͠͝ͅͅḘ̵̢̹̗̼͍̗̱̹̬̺̤̜͖̙͈͔̥͚̘͈͔͕͔̻͖̟͉̜̞̠̘̌͋́T̷̡̧̢̛̛̛͉͍̯͎̼̗͕͔̣̼͍̭̩̰̻͇͕͙̖͓͇͎̺̗̗̹̹̬̹̮̜̪̤̬͉͈̠̪͓̣͉̈̌̾́̍͆̓̈́͛̀͐̿̃̏͆͗́͑̎͗̎̿̅̓̀̿͒̅̄͌͐̇̔̽̄́̇̓͋̂̾̔̅͘̚͘͘̕̚͘͜͜͝͠͝ͅ ̴̡̯͙̣̙̩͈͕͚̠̫̙̰̼̲̥̘͙͈̼͓̠̭̥̹̪̘̦̥̹̼̦̬͇̘̼͇͙̱̺͎̣̟̞̙͙̟͙͉̥̯̹͇̱͎̣͉̐͑́͆͌̓͒̕͜͜͝ͅͅU̸̧̧̨̪̥͎̯͖̯̻̼͇̼͎͇̺̮̹̙͓̲̹̻̻͍̞̭̙̘̲̦͒́̿̓̀͋͗̏́̓̈́̇͑̀̐͆̆̎́͌͗͐̾͗̄̈́̄͊̽̂́͗͛̌̔̈́͊͊̆̒̎͘̕͜͜͝͝ͅͅP̴̨̧̡͚̘̝̘͍̗̰̯̣̖͍̳̫̯̝͕̺̻̹̳̳̰̙̥͔̋̃̅̇͐̒̒͂͂͆̈͗͆́̈̅͘͜
‘You’re just like your mother.’
‘As if you’re mad at your own reflection.’
D̴̼̫̝͐̿o̷̬͇̫̦̹̕l̶̝̜̗̃͒͝l̴̖̜̜͊̚ͅ
̶̡̢̪̫̪̔̐͑̓Ą̷͇̭̍͜ ̵̲̝̪͒̀d̸̡͙̩̚͝o̸̦̪̟̎̐͂ͅl̴̛̝̈́͊̓̔͜l̶̡̨̺̯̋
̵͍̇͒͋J̶͉̜͍̙̿̇̀͠͝u̴͉̤̼̝̦̔̋̉͝s̶͉͔͖̠̱̃͌͒̀t̵̥̱̻͍̯͆ ̸̺̺̀a̶͍̋̀̀ ̴̹̅̔͌̅d̴͚̺͍̫̀̆͜ó̶̡̂̂l̵̤̆l̷̫̣͕͖̦̾̈́̀͠.̵̼̞͍̗̋͋̈́̉
̷̮̪͗W̵͚̩̮̓͂́͠h̷̖̬͓̖͐̉̈́͌ǫ̸͂͗̀͛̌ ̵̯̀͛̀͠͠c̸̦͖͙̐̀̐͋ȃ̴̻̱̝̹̔̆̉̄n̸̢̘̱̳̿ ̶͍͔̜̈́̚e̷̘̥͗͋̓͗̒ͅv̷̨̲̜̩̤͂͊͝ę̶̞̗͈̠̾͋̆̓͠r̶̨̘̖̃ ̵̜̦̌̇͘͝b̸̢̼̟̈̾̔̃e̵̩̰͇͈͌̓͘͠l̷̡̻̥̩̗͆̄̀̿̓ờ̵̖͔̘̮͛̔̒͜ń̷͉̤̥͊̑̓̒g̶͚̗̻̳̔̀̓̇̚
̵̙͕̪͒W̸̠͗̓͂h̵̳̥̫̾͒͊e̷̲͐̍́̆͘ŕ̸̛͉͙̲̩̓̏͝ề̸̺̠̒̄̓ ̶̻̯͚͎͔̈͂͆͆ţ̷̫͒̎̈̚ḣ̵̺͗͂̾͝ͅe̴͕̹͔̐̊̎͝͠ẏ̷̱͙̀̊ ̷̣̖̳̣̋̆̂̅á̵͔̫̱̞͝͝r̸̟̠͋͋̈́e̶̝̟̎̿̀?̵̻̹̲̋̎
̴̭̰̭͈͒̐͑̎Ń̷̛̟̠̞̈̄͜o̷̬̬͈̊t̶͕̲̀͂̅͊ ̶̡̙̩̞̰̋̓m̷̞͙͎̑̍͛͐͠ḙ̶̥͕̰̫͌͆.̸̠̏͊̽͗
̴̯̙̦͔̔͌I̶̡̫̋̑ͅ’̵̢͙͙̮̋̈́v̴̢̱̬̲̈́͜e̵͚͉͕͇̿̑͠ ̶̘̽̈̿̿e̷̥̩̲̭͖̕r̸̺̒͊̈́a̴̡̩̗̱̐͘͝s̸̭̥̞̓̽̈̿e̵̡̻͎̩͑̀͠d̷̨͍̯͚̊̾ ̷̛͔̜̪͖̦̍̆t̶̠̣͇̋̂h̵̬̿ȅ̸͖̟̫̑̽ͅ ̸̛̺̈́̀e̴͈̤̟̔̒m̶̨̢̡͔͍̄o̸̠̓̄t̸̳̑̉̍͋͘i̷͇͕̊̀̇͝o̶̝͉̘̱̦̒ṉ̴͈̣̻̺̎̂ ̵̧̛͓̲͎̳̈́̂͛͠
̶̹̜͌̐̕͝t̸̲̾̃̐͘h̶̨̞͊̀̊̓͝ͅa̴͍̽̇̾͝ţ̷͖̩̠͆̽̉̉̚ ̵̧̢̭̳̺̋̇̚͝m̸͓͆̿̈́̇a̵̡̟̐k̵̫̥̟̓̓̚ͅe̵̢̹̹͗̒̇̇s̷̘̠̠͓͕͑̿̋ ̶̨͙̪̗̈́͒̈́p̵̫͙̹̘̐͐́̔͐e̴̯̤̋̇ö̸̳̮́͐̎͠p̴̨̐ĺ̵̲̘̗̚ẻ̵̼̯̭̗̈̚ ̵̧͉̥̳͂̏̀̐̚ĥ̸̖̙̈́̇̂̈́ṷ̵̝̞̫̑̆̊̓̓m̷̢̰̺̈́̉͌̔̇ȧ̴̬͈̝͚̎͆́n̶̖̓̋́͝.̸̘̐͌̀͆̓
̸̣̤̦͚̜́Ş̸̙͙̬̎̂̌͑a̶̬̮̜̰͕̋̉͊̍̽d̶̞̲̰̈́́̐̌́n̸̢̫̲̰̍͆͜e̴̠͚͠͠s̸̨̰̘̈̀̕̚s̵̜̙͙̍͐̽̓.̷̪̘̜͎̅̒
‘But I can still feel it sometimes.’
Ragatha gets up, screaming, but covering her mouth immediately after. Her eyes had bright colors for just a split second.
She immediately takes her portable mirror and checks her face, but really, nothing’s changed. Even if she felt weird, static even. What’s going on?
Pomni gets up, straightening her posture suddenly, yawning right after. ‘Zooble wanted me to tag along to check on Gangle today, if I’m actually remembering right…’ She rubs her eyes.
“Already?” Pomni finally gets out of the bed. She opens the door to see Gangle, surprisingly. “I just wanted to say thank you for sitting with me yesterday!” She exclaims. “Come on, we’re friends. Don’t thank me for every little thing!” Pomni teases, but Gangle doesn’t seem very provoked. She looks… surprised.
‘She actually considers me as a friend..?’
“...Yeah. Friends.” Gangle nods. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re okay. Me and Zooble wanted go check up on you, ‘cause of yesterday.” Pomni recalls, “Huh? But I was completely fine.” Gangle tilts her head.
“Suuuure.” Pomni drawls, which causes Gangle to look around, confused. “Anyway, I’ll let Zooble know now.” Pomni heads to Zooble’s room, and Gangle follows.
Knock, Knock, Knock, Knock!
This person’s knock was much more impatient. ‘Who is it now…’ Zooble wakes up, tired and recovering.
She opens the door to Pomni and Zooble. “Hi Zooble!” Gangle waves sweetly, yet meekly. “Hey!” Zooble responds with the same manner, yet flatter. “Gangle actually came up to me, she made sure to tell me she’s fine!” Pomni exclaims, “To tell the truth I still don’t believe her.” She whispers. Zooble holds a chuckle.
“Just curious, why’d you leave yesterday?” Zooble queries, sure not to overstep, “Ah I was drawing. Social battery just ran low.” Gangle replies, “That’s so relatable.” Pomni relates. “Figured.” Zooble deadpans.
“I wonder why you two were so worried anyway, I didn’t show any kind of signs of being not okay, did I?” Gangle tilts her head, “Ehh…” Pomni holds back the truth, “Oh come on.” Gangle narrows her eyes.
Ragatha peeks through from the hallway, feeling left out. ‘None of them even bothered to mention me..?’ What are you saying? ‘Why am I so childish!’ She stomps, ‘I’ll leave them alone.’
“You’re sixteen! Act your age!” Her mother looks down on teen Ragatha, who was crouching because of her injured leg.
‘I sound just like her, don’t I—’ “Oh, hi Ragatha! You’re awake!” Pomni interrupts the doll made of rags’ thoughts, “H.. hi,” Ragatha awkwardly straightens her posture. “I-I was about to come in..”
“Is your hand okay from yesterday?” Gangle implores, staring at Ragatha’s hand. “Oh, of course! What about your leg?” Ragatha also implores, “It’s a-OK!” Gangle winks, copying a thumbs up with her ribbons.
“That’s great for both of you.” Zooble flatly chimes in; staring at their own arm. “I kinda wanna know what Cai—” “NO!” Zooble doesn’t think before objecting Pomni, “I mean, I’m kinda curious too..” Gangle voices, low. “No. Just no. If you’re gonna do it anyway, then f[Freeze!]k off.”
“I’ll go!” Pomni immediately walks out the door, and Ragatha follows. “I’ll stay here, I don’t really feel like having my space invaded, again..” Gangle changes her mind, “You already changed your mind?” Zooble inquires, “Yeah. And I’d feel bad about leaving you here.” The edges of Gangle’s mouth curl inward.
“Don’t worry, you’re sweet, so it’s not like I would’ve thought of you as less.” Zooble looks at Gangle in a way that could comfort her, Gangle sniffs, “I really don’t deserve you, do I?” She sheds a happy tear, as grateful as she could be in hell.
Kinger, who stayed in his pillow fort the whole day, felt comfort in the dark. It reminded him of his dear abstracted wife, Queenie.
She loved bugs. Entomology even, she made him love them so much he now actively seeks them out.
"They can't hurt you," She'd say.
"They're more scared than you are!" She'd giggle, with that stupid endearing smile on her face.
Well it wasn't stupid. It was cute. Very.
Although being lucid made him feel the pain of grief, he could at least control his memories and what he says. Unlike in the light, where his mind feels clogged, spilling sentences when the pipes cogged, as if a cough or scream.
'Oh Queenie...' Kinger droops his head, 'If only I could have talked to you one more time.' He thinks.
“So, he came up to me the—” “Boo!” “AAGHHH!” Pomni shoes the person who scared her. “Almost forgot you were such a scaredy cat!” Jax smirks, trying to provoke her. “Hey, I’m not as chicken as you! You don’t even—” “Nyeh, nyeh, nyeh. Did the chickens bawk or was that just me?” Jax teases, mocking her.
“Let’s just… continue walking.” Ragatha keeps up her routine of ignoring Jax, “Yeah.” Pomni nods in agreement. “Hey? You can’t ignore me, I know you—” His face plants on a pillar, a consequence.
Pomni snickers, then gives him that same damned grin everyone around him hated.
Jax eyed her with shrunken pupils, clearly resenting her mocking him. He was the funny one; not her. She has to stay in her lane—Stay as her archetype— Or she’ll ruin it all; and she’ll get someone hurt.
He walks away; muttering something inaudible aggressively as he spit. “Now that he’s gone, I’ll con— where was I?” Pomni cuts herself off, “The guy coming up to you.” Ragatha finally speaks up after Jax leaves. “Oh, thanks. Anyway, he came up to me and handed me flowers built by bricks! And I was so confused, because he gave me a love letter too.” Pomni explains, “Maybe he liked you? Wasn’t it Valentine’s day?” Ragatha suggests.
“Yeah, but who would actually like a nerd, y’know?” Pomni flatly yet rhetorically queries, “Then when I rejected him, he admitted it was a joke and his whole group was like ‘Ha! You tho— Wait.. she rejected you.’ and he stood there devastated, as if he actually liked me.” Pomni gives the full story, and Ragatha is left surprised.
“Wow, after all that, he was still extremely sad after?" Ragatha exaggerates, “Yeah, like, why wouldn’t your ex-crush reject you? If I did it once, I’ll do it again.” Pomni asserts. “Maybe he still liked you?” Ragatha suggests, yet again. “Well, it’s possible…” Pomni shrugs.
“All these drawings are so sweet. I thought you had art block, so I didn’t expect more of your OCs.” Zooble points to a drawing in particular, which had a father and his daughter bonding. “Yeah, well my art block was cured after a nap. It lasted pretty short, actually.” Gangle rests her mask on her ribbon palm.
“That’s good to hear. They’re rough.” Zooble exasperates, “Yep… I think Jax discouraging me that one time helped get me in it.” Gangle bittersweetly builds on. “Wait, what time?” Zooble turns to her, utterly confused. “...Nevermind,” Gangle lets her pencil loose.
RAGATHA NEEDS A HUG MY POOR BABY OMIGOSH I HATE HER LOVEBOMBITN ASS MOM EVERYBODY IN THE COMMENTS FORM A HATECLUB NOW. NOOE. I LOVE YOU RAGATAHA YOU DESERVE SOCMUCH BETTER MY MENTALLY ILL GIRLY RYAGAHHDHFHF I RELATE TO HER SM IM GONNA CRYYUYYYYYU
For Zooble’s part, I hope you liked the sassy narrator lol. Nobody can be happy in my grasp. Zooble needs so mych more DEPTH IN THE ORIGINAL SERIES IM GONNA CRSSH OUT SO HARD!!!!!!!!! GOOSEWORX !!! EP8 OR 9 PLSSSS SHOW MORE ZOOBLE GROWTH
For context, the tragedy and comedy part of Gangle is her contradicting emotions arguing with one another. She wants to be normal so bad she forces her head to be the same. She refuses to acknowledge it’s okay to feel them both at the same time because she doesn’t consider it normal. This isn’t a plural headcanon. I’m not knowledgeable enough in DID anyway. This is very personal to me, so I’d like you to respect the decision. (This whole thing reminds me of how the mask practically traps her to act different, so I imagine it’s her ‘set’ personalities on deciding somrthing.) (ALSO BED OF ROSES BY MSI REFERENCE HAHAHAHAHAHAH I HAD TO)
