#tadc sunshine

[gravitycavity]

Sunshine (Pomni x Ragatha) Chapter 8 - Take the Plunge

[Click here to read from the beginning on AO3!]

Cover art by @blukiar

Pomni. 

Pomni. 

Pomni.

A bead of sweat traced a numbing line across her face. 

Pomni. Pomni. Pomni. Over and over again, the familiar sound pummeled her ears, yet she was powerless to hear it. 

Pomni. Pomni. Trapped in the endless corridor, she stood before the centipede’s wretched shadow, stomach seizing, pupils shrinking, acrid bile smoldering in the deepest depths of her throat. Dread — profound and overwhelming — gurgled like poison through her veins.

This couldn’t be real, she told herself, watching through shimmering eyes as one-hundred chitin-glazed legs chattered toward her. This had to be a nightmare, she insisted, flinching at the shadows in her periphery, feeling every shiver and quake of Ragatha’s form in her clammy palms.

Pomni. Pomni. Pomni.

Pomni. Pomni—

“Pomni!” Ragatha screamed; at long last, her voice had pierced through the veil. The ragdoll snatched the scruff of Pomni’s tunic, shaking the jester as hard as her weakened body could. “What are you doing?! Why are you just standing there!?”

With a jolt, Pomni came to, gawking at Ragatha as if she’d forgotten the cotton-stuffed damsel was even there. “Huh…?” she shook her head, “Wh-What?”

“Don’t look at me like that! Do something!”

Pomni pitched an anxious glance down the hall. A discordant ensemble of prickling steps played a persistent crescendo, growing ever louder as the beastly centipede closed the distance. “B-But I…! But I don’t—” she warbled, gasping through tears, “I don’t know what to—”

 “Run!” Ragatha shoved Pomni closer.

“Run where?!”

“AWAY!”

The little jester dipped forward with a frustrated grunt. She couldn’t argue with that. “O-Okay!” she finally forced out, holding Ragatha tight and barreling forward with no thought, no direction, and no plan. “Okay!” she huffed, “Okay!” she croaked, “Okay!” she sobbed.

Tears shimmered behind Pomni’s eyes as she sprinted for life and limb, shivering soles pummeling the endless ribbon of carpet underneath. Her destination was but an afterthought; all she could do was run, as fast and as far away as her body could carry her. 

There was just one small wrinkle in the plan, however: Pomni could run fast, but so could the centipede. And the centipede was faster. By a longshot. 

No matter how far the elastic corridor stretched, or how many corners the little jester swerved around, the beast’s omnipresent shadow — spread across all four walls by flickering chandelier lights — stalked her all the same. 

The shape, spelled in darkness, was a thing of nightmares. A despicable, wriggling horde of insect parts, growing and bending and stretching in the wavering light. Clicking legs. Undulating antennae. Crunching pincers, primed to devour the beast’s next meal. Pomni swore she could feel their venomous touch as the wriggling silhouette reached for her ankles. 

Every pixel of the young woman’s digital form begged her to toss a glance behind herself — but her twisted guts were wiser than that. Under no circumstances could she look back. She couldn’t look back. She couldn’t even think about it. Couldn’t look back. Couldn’t look back. Couldn’t—

Look back. Just for a moment. 

Couldn’t look back—

The shadow is stretching. It’s right behind you. 

Couldn’t look back—

It’s getting closer. Closer. Closer. Closer—

Pomni grunted, succumbing to temptation just as she knew she would, but her meek, over-the-shoulder glance failed to do her any good. All it did was reinforce just how quickly the centipede was gaining on her — and distract her from a pesky fold in the carpet that she really would have been better off having seen.

She tripped. 

“@#$&! Nononono—” Pomni gasped, squeezing Ragatha tighter as she stumbled forward. Had she full control over her arms, she may have been able to right her sudden spill — but given her ragdoll cargo, there was simply nowhere to go but down.

Pomni clenched her teeth, skidding roughly across the scratchy carpet. Ragatha tumbled helplessly out of her arms, and just like that, the chase was over.

The writhing shadow that had ruthlessly pursued Pomni turned manifest in a matter of seconds. Pomni felt her stomach convulse in disgust as the centipede — and all one-hundred of its prickling legs — scuttled across her back in pursuit of its ragdoll prey.  

“No…!” Ragatha gasped, eyes sinking, mouth twisting before the living nightmare crawling toward her, “D-Don’t come any closer! Get away! Stop!”

Pomni struggled to stand — hell, she struggled to speak — as an endless parade of insectine legs crushed her underfoot. She was pinned; for every step the beast laid down upon her, it felt as if a spear were being driven straight through her backside. 

The centipede’s foul head, meanwhile, loomed over the cowering dolly, noxious drool flowing like water from its quivering maw. Ragatha shrieked bloody murder as its pincers pierced the fabric flesh of her arm. A garden of hairline cracks, winding like wild vines, was etched across the windows. 

Its prey all but secured, the centipede stood up straight, dragging Ragatha off of the ground with trivial effort. Ragathas dangled helplessly from the beast’s maw, screaming in horror, spangling the floor with tears as her captor scurried off to God-knows-where. 

Pomni didn’t wait. She growled like a wild animal, scrambling to her feet despite the burning pain carved across her back. With a running start, she dove forward with gusto, tackling the pair of long horns that served as the centipede’s tail. 

The little jester held on with all of her might, letting herself be dragged until she finally managed to hoist herself up onto the centipede’s trunk. The moment she’d mounted the beast, she began to slowly crawl up the length of its body — and it wasn’t long before she found herself at the centipede’s midsection. 

“Let! Her! Go!” Once, twice, thrice, she pounded her knuckles into the beast’s hard exterior, and with each successive hit, her face coiled further in pain. Trying to crack the centipede’s exoskeleton with her bare fists was akin to trading blows with a brick wall — and felt just about as torturously painful.

Pomni winched, grimacing at her throbbing hand. “Just…! Just…!” she gasped, “Come on!”. She shoved her whole weight behind a fourth hit, a fifth hit, a sixth, and a seventh — but the arthropod’s outer armor proved itself utterly impenetrable. 

Pomni cursed under her breath, glancing at the empty hilt hitched to her belt. How was she supposed to do any damage when her sword was stuck in a petrified tree miles away?! Her pupils flinched around the whites of her eyes, combing the infinite corridor for something, anything, that could possibly serve as a substitute weapon. 

The pickings were perilously slim. Lion-pawed sofas and empty shelves lined the hall aplenty, but anything resembling practical weaponry was nowhere to be found. There were no swords mounted to the walls, no halberds clutched by empty suits of armor, no antique rifles displayed proudly behind shatterproof glass. 

The only objects that could do any damage were the assorted busts of Margarethe MacGuffin scattered through the hall — but one-hundred-plus pounds of solid marble was too heavy for Pomni to wield. It was almost like they were placed in the hall just to mock her — to make her the punchline of some sick cosmic joke.

Pomni felt her stomach churning, her skin itching, her forehead being tickled by warm beads of sweat. What now? 

The centipede picked up its speed, barreling down the hall with its loudly-sobbing prey in tow. Pomni tightened her grip around the beast’s trunk as the mansion trembled once again. Dirt, drywall, and a smothering tide of what-ifs swarmed into the jester’s lungs with every shuddering breath. 

What was she supposed to do?

The world spun around her. Sparks of crippling pain stunned her body. A raging wildfire of panic blackened her lungs, roasting them from the inside-out, and—

— Wait a minute. Was that a…?

Pomni exhaled, eyes bulging as the darkness that drowned the end of the hallway gave way to feeble rays of light. The infinite hallway, as it turned out, wasn’t quite so infinite after all — and Pomni gawked at the sight waiting for her as the tail-end came into view: 

There was an elevator. 

A single, old-fashioned elevator, stationed at the very end of the corridor. 

Oh, no.

Even from a distance, it was evident — the mansion’s rapid deterioration had already done its part in reducing the antiquated contraption into a surefire death trap. The rusted doors were bent completely out of shape. Half of the sconces were now just a nasty carpet of broken glass. One of the elevator’s overhead cables had already snapped in twain, causing the entire car to slant to one side.

Pomni didn’t need to be an obsessive worrier to picture what might happen the moment she dared to step inside. 

The young woman blinked with morbid fascination as the beat-up elevator car swung left and right like an oversized pendulum. A certain idea took root in Pomni’s head — an idea so horrendous, so atrocious, so stomach-churningly awful that she could barely stand to even entertain it. But, as awful as it was, it was something. And ‘something’ at this point, no matter how terrible, was leagues better than the ‘nothing’ she’d been working with up to now.

There was no time to come up with anything better, no time to doubt herself, no time to catastrophize over the thousands of little things that might go awry, no matter how desperately the aching knot in her heart obliged her. 

She had to make a choice — it was now or never. 

God help her.

“Ragatha!” Pomni yelled, glaring up at the centipede’s head — her destination. “Hang in there — I have an idea!”

Slowly and deliberately, Pomni inched up the rest of the creature’s worm-like body, fighting tooth and nail to hold it together against the dissonant orchestra of sensations that plagued her senses.

The constant motion, blurring her vision? Stomach-churningly awful. She pushed forward anyway. 

Spindly, cracking legs constantly brushing against her arms? Revolting. She didn’t even think of quitting.

The odor of rotting bark emanating from the slick surface of the centipede itself? It took everything Pomni had to not puke — but she persisted, climbing higher until, at last, she’d crested the centipede’s head. 

Pomni steeled herself. Here goes nothing.

“Let her go!” she demanded, plunging her fingers straight into the beast’s drooling maw. She pulled up with all of her might. The hundred-legged creature bucked like a temperamental steed, fighting with everything it had to toss the saboteur off its head — but the jester refused to be cast off so easily. 

“Come on!” Pomni grunted, flexing her drool-covered fingers to adjust her grip. She yanked her trembling arms at every possible angle, yet the creature’s powerful jaws simply refused to yield. “Let…her…go!”

The centipede grunted. It bucked again, nearly striking one of the gargantuan chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Pomni wasn’t so lucky, nearly losing her grip as she was struck in the face by the large glass fixture.

“Son of a #@$!%…” she growled, bitterly pounding her heel into the centipede’s head. Again, she tried to pry the creature’s mouth open, but even she knew her efforts were doomed to fail. 

“Ragatha! I’m trying, but I can’t get its mouth open!” said Pomni, wilting forward in defeat, “Wh-What am I supposed to do? I can’t—”

More agitated than ever, and far from giving up, the centipede bucked for a third time, catching an exhausted Pomni completely off-guard. The jester barely had time to notice what had happened before she was sent sliding off the monster’s head. 

“What?! No! Nonono—” Pomni groped around in blind panic, searching for something to grab hold of. Fortunately, she would easily find it. Unfortunately, that ‘it’ was none other than Ragatha herself.  

A harrowing scream — and the sound of tearing fabric — filled the corridor as 

Pomni’s fingers skidded down the length of Ragatha’s legs, stopping just above the heels. Pomni’s face flinched upward, shock and horror spelled in bold across her face.

The stress of Pomni’s weight had ripped open the sensitive seams connecting Ragatha’s arm to the rest of her body. Black sludge, infested with peering, neon-colored eyes, dripped like blood from the open wound. The foul abstraction wasted no time slithering across the exterior of Ragatha’s body, closely hugging her frame. 

Ragatha whimpered in pain, tear-soaked face turned away from the gory sight. 

“Ah! I-I’m sorry!” Pomni gasped, plate-sized pupils watching lumps of cotton and toxic tar tumble out from between stretching seams, “Your arm! It’s—’”

The grunting, fuming beast cared about only one thing, and that was dinner. Determined to have its meal, it whipped its head left and right, leveraging its massive strength to dislodge the pesky clown hanging off its prey.

The seam between the ragdoll’s arm and body felt the stress, and one-by-one, the remaining stitches popped loose. Then, with one final, miserable tear, Ragatha’s arm was fully severed from her body. Both girls — too stunned to move, and too breathless to scream — hit the floor like two sacks of heavy stones. 

The centipede hissed, scopious trunk worming about in frantic search of its lost prey. Its head squirmed left and right, low and high, violently thrashing into anything and everything that dared to stand in its way. 

The giant arthropod smashed into one wall, and then the other. Deep fissures, branching like lightning bolts, flashed across both surfaces. The corridor’s oddly-placed furniture was the next to meet its match, reduced to jagged shards of shattered wood with only a handful of rage-fueled strikes. Nothing seemed able to stop the rampage — until, of course, the centipede decided that one of the hallway’s extravagant chandeliers would be its next target.

Bad move.

The fixture swung in broad, hastened strokes. A sizzling hiss broadcasted the beast’s pain as plumes of molten wax, splattered from hundreds of burning candles, seared the centipede’s tough outer armor. Then, with a violent snap, the feeble chain that held the chandelier forgot its tenuous grip on the ceiling. Thousands of pounds worth of beads, branches, and bobèches collapsed onto the beast, pelting its exoskeleton with relentless persistence.

The centipede twitched, buried beneath a mountain of twisted metal and broken glass. 

In the stunning silence that ensued, a honeyed voice, soured by despair, struggled to make itself heard. “Pomni…” it said, barely louder than Pomni’s gasping breaths. “I’m…I think I’m…”

“Ragatha…?” Pomni blinked, pushing her battered body off the floor. “R-Ragatha!” she yelped, scrambling to her feet and rushing to Ragatha’s side — but her panicked stride skidded to a halt mere seconds later.

Pomni smothered her mouth with her tremlbing palm. Her feet retreated by a single step. 

Ragatha was fading. Fast. 

Pitch black abstraction, infested with a rash of vibrant, restless eyes, flowed from the open wound left behind by the ragdoll’s missing arm. The blight clung like molten tar to the curves of her body, and seared her skin just the same. 

Ragatha gasped dollish features twisting in terror and confusion as they watched the toxin spread. “What? No no no—” Her heart pounded in her chest; with every pump, the midnight curse stuttered up her quaking shoulder, across her sunken chest, around her shuddering waist. “Please! Help me!” she pleaded, “This isn’t happening…this isn’t happening!”

“I-It’s gonna be okay! D-D-Don’t worry!” Pomni swallowed, reaching—

But Ragatha flinched away like a frightened animal. “No! Get away from me! You can’t—” she gasped through tears. A cluster of blinking eyes sprouted on her neck. On her hip. Her back. “If you touch me, you’ll—”

“I don’t care!” 

“What?!”

“I. Don’t. Care!” Pomni said. She hoisted Ragatha off the floor, pinning the wriggling dolly against her side. The moment her digital avatar made contact with Ragatha’s, a treacherously-uncomfortable sensation — like pins and needles charged with static electricity — sizzled up from her wrist to her shoulder. 

In less than a half-second, Pomni’s arm was in total disarray. The complex network of functions, formulas, and floating points that defined the scrawny digital limb rebelled against themselves, ensnared in a never ending, cannibalistic battle for control over their own existence. One moment, her arm was twice as long. The other, thrice as wide. One moment, her hand had five fingers, the other, negative three. Polygons flickered and twisted, stretched and compressed, bent and broke with only one rule to follow: that there were no rules.  

Grimacing, Pomni leaned into a sprint toward the elevator, staving off the urge to gawk as the unfolding chaos spread to the side of her torso. It didn’t make sense to look, after all: she already knew, whether she wanted to or not, the crippling consequences of touching an abstracting player. 

“P-Pomni…” Ragatha whimpered, struggling to meet the jester’s gaze. The sweet and caring ragdoll was in miserable, miserable shape. The shape of her body began to warp as the infection progressed; sharp corners jutted out as her digital model simplified into an abstract, low-poly lump of nothing. 

The grisly sight plunged Pomni’s little heart into depths unseen. “Hey, hey! Don’t worry!” she assured, cradling the weakened dolly tighter, “Everything’s gonna be just fine — I promise!”

Faintly, Ragatha lifted her head. The will to fight faded in her eyes, as though she knew that the frigid despair pumping from her ruptured heart was unstoppable; only a scant few places — the bottoms of her flat Mary Janes, the stitched tips of her simplified hands, and half of her cherubic face — remained un-abstracted.

Still, she spoke. “I…love you so much, my Sunshine,” she croaked, leaning her head against Pomni’s chest. The weakened grimace upon her face shied away from two tearful eyes. “I’m sorry our story had to end this way…”

“Come on! Don’t talk like that!” Pomni scolded between haggard breaths, “It’s not over yet!”

“Maybe,” Ragatha said. “Whatever happens, Pomni, I want you to know — you are everything. My whole wide world. And you always will be.” Pearly tears glistened down the soft curves of her cheeks, “I just wish I could have learned your real name. Or brushed my thumbs across your real cheeks, or rested my head on your real shoulders…”

“You will! I promise you will!” Pomni’s fierce gaze, wet with tears, fixed on the crooked elevator doors down the hall. She was nearly there. A stone’s throw away. Nearly to the end of this horrendous nightmare. “We’re going to get out of this stupid game together, no matter how long it takes us! We’ll find each other in the real world, no matter how far we have to travel, because…” Pomni shakily swallowed, “Because I love you, Ragatha, more than anything else in this stupid world!”

Ragatha smiled, despite her demise. “Sunshine…?” she breathed. The creaking of floorboards beneath Pomni’s feet — and a distant, monstrous groan down the hall —  filled the pregnant pause before the dolly found the strength to speak again, “Humor me for a moment?” 

Pomni’s brows squinched together. Humor her? What was Ragatha talking about? “H-Huh?”

“Do you…do you still remember the color of your eyes…?”

Pomni flinched. Ragatha’s question wasn’t unusual — but decidedly out-of-the-blue. Her eyes. What color were her eyes? The gut response of ‘I don’t know’ or ‘why do you ask’ waited impatiently on the tip of her tongue, and yet, Pomni knew in her heart that that wouldn’t do.

“I, um—” Pomni hemmed and hawed. Ragatha stared back with a patient, yet expectant look. “Well…”

It had been ages since Pomni had given herself more than a passing glance in the mirror, let alone looked at herself long enough to notice such a trivial detail. She could barely even recall the last time anyone had brought it up. 

She chewed on the thought a little while longer before finally spitting it out: “J-Just brown. I think,” she mumbled, squinting at her destination. She was close enough now to make out the distinct “C&A” etched in cursive script above the elevator door, “Nothing too special.”

“Brown? No kidding?” Ragatha swooned, fading eyes flashing brighter “That’s just what I hoped you’d say…”

“Really…?”

“Brown is such a charming color. Copper pans, autumn leaves, coffee beans…” Ragatha cooed, donning a peaceful smile even as strands of black death stretched across her mouth, “...I can almost see your brown eyes now — and goodness gracious, they’re just so beautiful…”

“R-Ragatha?” Pomni gasped, looking on in horror as Ragatha’s face was buried beneath a toxic expanse of black and neon. “Ragatha! Don’t go, please — we’re here! Look! We made it!”

Skidding to a halt before the elevator, Pomni rammed her heel into the ‘open door’ button more times than she cared to count. A metallic shriek answered her call as the smashed-up doors creaked open a moment later. 

As soon as there was enough space to squeeze through — and not a moment sooner — Pomni charged inside, spun on a dime, and bolted to the control panel. 

Pomni slammed her foot into the first button unlucky enough to catch her eye. She held back a sigh of relief as the button, marked with the number ‘3’, yielded to the pressure of her aching sole. She didn’t care where the old contraption took her, as long as it was far, far away from here. 

Whirring gears and rusted cables belted an ominous tune as the crooked doors limped back toward one another. Through the slowly-shrinking space in between, Pomni could see into the dark corridor, where the silhouette of her hundred-legged pursuer stirred to life, casting off the last remnants of the fallen chandelier. 

Sluggishly, the centipede rose to its feet. Then, the floor rumbled beneath a hundred insectine legs as the beast charged ahead like a raging bull, Ragatha’s lost arm still clutched firmly in its mouth. 

Pomni swallowed hard, staring daggers. A blizzard of anxiety speared through her chest, but a mindful breath reminded her that there was absolutely nothing to worry about. She’d already won. Any second now, the doors would meet in the middle, the car would descend, and— 

With an ear-shattering pop, the elevator jolted to one side, sending Pomni and her ragdoll cargo tumbling into the corner between the wall and the floor.  

“$#@%!” Pomni cursed, first checking on Ragatha, then righting herself. Heaving and huffing with one hand on her thumping heart, she rolled the dolly onto her back before flinging her gaze back toward the car’s double-doors. 

She exhaled, her pupils doubling in size. The doors had stopped mid-closure, leaving a gaping, monster-sized space in between.

The distinct flavor of vomit pestered Pomni’s tongue as she scrambled to the control panel, fingering the ‘close door’ button again and again and againandagainandagainand—

“No…! No! COME ON!” Pomni screamed, dragging her un-corrupted hand down each column of worn, gold-trimmed buttons. The brittle plastic lit up with an off-yellow glow, flickering like dying Christmas tree lights…but looking pretty was all the old buttons were good for. 

“No! NO! YOU PIECE OF #@$%!” Pomni shrieked with rage, punching the panel until her knuckles couldn’t take any more. A handful of pointed pops sounded from up above; golden sparks showered down from the ceiling. 

Pomni’s wailing gaze wandered toward Ragatha, and at long last, the nervous little jester broke down; her shoulders curled over her chest, and shimmering tears carved parallel streams across her face.

She looked up. Up at the centipede. The passage of time seemed to lag as the horrid beast grew larger in her vision, as the oily musk of its greasy exoskeleton became ever more pungent, as the sound of insect legs scuttling against the ground grew like wild weeds in her ears. 

A vise of terror, unyielding, chained her feet to the floor. Her body joined her mind’s rebellion — nothing would cooperate, nothing would move. Not in any way that mattered. 

Shrinking pupils shivered in a swelling field of white. One million pestering voices hissed and cawed and whined and sniped, each with something new to say, but none of them truly heard. 

Ragatha — abstracting. Centipede — getting closer. Her body — half corrupted, shrieking in pain. What to do? Should she even try? Her heart beat faster. 

Ragatha — abstracting. Centipede — getting closer. Her body — half corrupted, shrieking in pain. What to do? Should she even try? Her heart was pounding. 

Ragatha — abstracting. Centipede — getting closer. Her body — half corrupted, shrieking in pain. What to do? 

What to do? What to do? What to do? Needles pierced her heart as the organ hammered faster, faster, faster than it ever had before, until the tension was just too much, and the organ felt ready to explode in a gory burst of cherry blood and burgundy flesh and—

— Thud.

The elevator lurched downward. With a gasp, Pomni caught herself. What just happened? What the hell was that!? 

Pomni stared at the elevator doors, mouth ajar. Her eyes flicked down. A small ledge, about the height of a staircase step, now existed between the floor of the car and the hallway carpet. It looked like something she wasn’t meant to see. The golden trim and glossy wood paneling that dressed the elevator stopped exactly where the ledge began, giving way to gritty concrete overgrown with loose bundles of fraying wires.

It didn’t take long before what she was looking at clicked in her head.

The elevator shaft.

Tremulous breaths struggled out of Pomni’s chest as the jester stared wide-eyed at the approaching danger, then back down to that curious ledge. Up. Down. Up. Down. At that moment, she realized. She’d have to decide, right here and now, how this nightmare would end — with the bad ending, or the worse ending. 

And so, she jumped. 

She jumped, as hard as she possibly could. 

Body trembling with terror, Pomni slammed her full weight into the elevator floor, pummeling the surface with every scrap of force her tiny little frame could muster. The antique car swung to and fro, rust-rashed hinges squeaking and groaning and squealing and whining away. 

Something fizzled. Something popped. Sunset-colored sparks puffed out from the sconces, and all at once, the lights petered out. Darkness smothered the car, but the hallway was bright as day; Pomni could still see the century of chattering legs barreling toward her. 

The beast was getting close. Close enough for Pomni to see the stitching on the severed arm in its mouth. Close enough to smell its earthy aroma fouling the air. Close enough to have already won. Time was running out. Time. Running out. Running out. Running out…! 

Pomni grunted, bracing herself against the shockwaves rumbling beneath her aching feet. She jumped, ignoring the burning pain that climbed up her trembling legs, the vise of anxiety that pressed down, down, down, making every struggling breath shorter than the last, the pool of dread that formed in her stomach as she watched the centipede’s head slither through the elevator doors—

A punchy, resonant sound exploded above her. Pomni barely had enough time to toss an upward glance before everything within the car — the beast’s head included — plunged through the drooling maw of the elevator shaft.

A slimy crack could just barely be heard over Pomni’s screams as the centipede’s lifeless head, cleanly severed, hovered in zero gravity.

A murky cloud of debris spewed forth from the slain creature’s remains as it returned to the dust from whence it came. The powdery debris swirled around in the air, crystalizing into a new, more compressed shape: one half of a bronze brooch, set with a large, glittering emerald. 

Pomni, of course, was none the wiser. Drowning in the darkness, she kicked her legs, but couldn’t feel the floor beneath her. Blood rushed into her head, and white dots twinkled across her vision. 

“R-Ragatha…!” she struggled to say, reaching for the rash of twitching eyes curled in the corner of the car. A hesitant smile, dampened by dread, found its way to her face. “We did it, Ragatha…! We’re…”

Her eyelids drooped down. “...We’re going to be…” 

Her neck fell limp, and the world went black.

---

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[gravitycavity]

@spitinsideme Wow!!! I love this so so so much! I can't thank you enough!

I've been seeing your art on my feed for so long -- it's surreal to see you draw a scene from Sunshine! I love your style and all the little details you added, like the costumes and Ragatha's little heart-shaped patch!(and the way you draw Pomni is so cute I could die!)

I'm over the moon! Thank you so much for reading and taking the time to draw this!

read a really good ragapom fanfiction https://archiveofourown.org/works/53688844/chapters/135907246 and it was very goos so o drew a part of it whixh i really liked (fanfiction made by @gravitycavity go chexk it our its nice)

[draw-the-squad-like-this]

Draw your gang! (source)

[dawgdayze]

Wait let me cook

Is to

What

Is to

[fitzselfships]

Quick little thing I did last night. This how they greet them every morning :]

Proshippers/adjacent dni. 100000 shark attack 🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈🦈 also Zooble self ship doubles dni

[gravitycavity]

AAAAAHHHH OMG WHAT I LOVE THIS!

Look at her! This hopelessley gay little musketeer...she's so precious! So awkward! So nervous! Thank you so so so much for the art, @miguxadraws!!! I am absolutely in love with your interpretation of her costume!

musketeer pomni design based on @gravitycavity's fanfic

[alicealmost]

@fizzyellouw

T^T you got me emotive girl

[yunfox00]

sorry its messy but

HAPPY BIRTHDAY WIFEEEE <333

IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL OMG I LOVE THIS SM WIFEYYY THANK YOUUUUUU <33333

[kunaigirl]

Don't mind me I'm just hopping on another art meme train! This time it's the latest "Draw your comfort characters like this" meme from twitter! It's hilarious enough seeing everyone's go-to characters looking pissed off on a road trip together, but it's even funnier when there's such vastly different character designs involved! I had a ton of fun drawing this one!

[gravitycavity]

AHHHHH!!! Oh my goodness! I am SCREAMING. HOWLING. This is beyond amazing!

Thank you so much for drawing art of Sunshine, @blukiar!!! You are such a talented artist. You absolutely nailed their costumes, (especially Pomni's!) and the bewildered look on Pomni's gay little face is ADORABLE! I love the heartbeat in the background! <3

I was already having a good day, but this made it even better. Thank you so so so much from the bottom of my heart!!!

Long time no RagaPom!

Did this one based on @gravitycavity's cute fanfic! It's a great read so far and I'd highly recommend any RagaPom shipper to give it a read if you haven't yet!

[gravitycavity]

Sunshine (Pomni x Ragatha) Chapter 7 - Only Human

[Click here to read from the beginning on AO3!]

Cover art by @blukiar

A thin ribbon of carpet, stretching just as far into infinity as the narrow corridor itself, explored distant depths soaked in darkness. A never-ending chain of chandeliers spanned the ceiling, cracked bulbs flickering in and out as they pleased. The experience was disorienting, to say the least — cruel and unusual torture, to say a little bit more. 

There was but a single source of reliable light in the entire hallway: the unassuming windows staged on the eastern wall in neat little quintets. Each glass-paned portal hosted a pair of tattered curtains that fluttered carelessly with the rhythm of the wind. 

Assorted furniture was scattered along the periphery, breaking up the tiring monotony of it all. An odd, uncanny energy surrounded their existence. Nothing besides the occasional lamp was mounted upon the dust-caked tables, and only a handful of random knick-knacks found home on the bookshelves. Nothing seemed to be placed with any thought or purpose in mind, as if something non-human were desperately attempting to construct a convincing facsimile of a sprawling Edwardian mansion, but couldn’t quite get it right. It understood what to place, and where — but the why it couldn’t fully grasp. 

The subtle horror made Ragatha’s insides quiver — but, all told, it could have been worse. At the very least, she was here in Pomni’s arms, where the chilling bite of the unknown was soothed by the warm glow of her touch, where the steady rhythm of Pomni’s footfalls wrapped her up in a blanket of sameness and security. 

Step, step, step. 

Ragatha snuggled Pomni’s chest, her head positioned perfectly to hear the rhythm of the young woman’s heartbeat. It was racing. Pomni must have been so tired, so exhausted, so ready to collapse in a heap and call it quits. But instead, she persisted, pushing her body and mind to the absolute limit. All for Ragatha’s sake. 

The plain little ragdoll closed her eyes. She pulled deep, contented breaths from her core, pressing her forehead firmly against the jester’s chest. If only this adventure could go on forever. If only she and Pomni could remain just like this — a helpless princess and her dashing savior — until the day they finally escaped into the outside world, hand-in-hand.

Step, step, step.

Pomni passed by another quintet of windows. Ragatha shivered as a chilly draft snuck through a crack in the glass pane. Its whistling entrance, performing in duet with the tittering of bats, chipped the unbroken facade of silence. 

“Hey. Pomni…?” 

The jester kept on moving, but her stride was a touch closer to walking than it had been before. Her gaze flicked towards her chest — or rather, the big bundle of red yarn resting snugly against it. “Yeah? What’s up?” 

“I’ve just been thinking,” Ragatha’s finger teased little circles around Pomni’s back, “what are we going to get up to when this is all over?”

Pomni hesitated. “When we escape the Circus?”

“When this adventure is over.”

“Oh. W-Well, uh…” Pomni cleared her throat, “I haven’t really thought about it.”

“Well, I happen to have a few ideas up my sleeve…” Ragatha smirked. It was difficult not to swoon, or snicker, or let out one of those satisfied sighs that relieved the pressure built up by a love-swollen heart. “Since we’re so…close now, why don’t I show you around my bedroom? We could have a sleepover, just you and me. Does that sound fun?”

“Um…!” Pomni’s whole body turned five degrees warmer. “S-Sure! Uh. Yeah! Okay! That could be, uh, f-f-fun…”

“You have those big letter blocks in your room, don’t you?”

“Uh. Yes…?”

“Do you use them for anything?”

“Huh? Well, no. Not really.” 

“Are they heavy?”

“Pretty heavy,” Pomni replied, squinting. She glanced down, meeting Ragatha’s flirtatious gaze, “Why are you asking me this?”

“Well, I was just thinking. Maybe you could lend me some?”

“For what?”

“Well, we’re going to need something to block the door, won’t we?”

Pomni squeaked, pale face flushing red. “Huh!? U-Um…!”

“In fact…” Ragatha grabbed Pomni’s tunic and leaned in closer. A distinct hunger roared within her, begging to be sated. “I never got to finish my lesson, did I? What if you got in a little more practice before that?”

“More…practice?”

“Mhm…”

“A-Are you serious…?”

Ragatha practically purred. “Deadly.” 

“Well, uh…” Pomni subtly leaned away, “...now doesn’t really seem like a good time, does it? We’re going to fail the mission if we don’t keep moving — and besides, we’ve got to keep our guard up for whatever it is that’s hiding in this hallway. Remember what that weird ghost lady told us?

“Hmm?” Ragatha pouted. “Oh, come on. Just one quick kiss?”

Pomni sighed. “No, Ragatha.”

Ragatha’s steady breathing lagged; the unflinching seriousness of Pomni’s tone slammed into her like a runaway train. Her plush heart shriveled, and her stitched-on eyebrows crinkled in confusion. Uh-oh. Oh, god. She didn’t mean to…!

“I’m so sorry, Sweetheart,” Ragatha cocked her head, “I thought we were just playing around — I didn’t mean to pressure you. We’re not moving too fast, are we?”  

Pomni’s steady stride slowed to a halt. Her eyes brooded pensively at the floor, watching the hard sole of her boot rap softly against the carpet below. 

“No. It’s…fine,” Pomni eventually replied, “We can kiss if you want.”

“If I want to!? Do you want to?”

“I…” Pomni swallowed. “...Well, duh! You’re literally the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. What kind of idiot wouldn’t want to kiss you?”

“Pomni.” Ragatha deadpanned. The flattery tactic wasn’t going to work. “Be honest.”

“I am being honest!”

“Please. I can tell something’s bothering you—”

Out of nowhere, Pomni shoved her lips against Ragatha’s, decisively shutting the dolly up. She tore away the very next moment.

“There’s your kiss. Happy?” Pomni grit her teeth, glaring down the hallway. She sulked into the dark depths with aplomb.

“Pomni! What’s gotten into you?!”

“What’s gotten into me? We have less than an hour before this whole adventure falls apart with us stuck inside it! That’s what’s gotten into me!”  

Ragatha narrowed her eyes. She was the farthest thing from naive — not when it came to matters of the heart. Pomni had started acting noticeably off ever since they’d shared their first kiss, and Ragatha wasn’t going to just stand by without at least trying to get to the bottom of it, time limits be damned. 

“Pomni,” said Ragatha, “put me down.”

“What? You’re not serious, are you?!”

“We’re not in high school, Pomni — something’s going on, and we’re going to talk about it. Like adults.”

Pomni grumbled under her breath. Rolling her eyes, she started toward one of the many overzealous couches placed periodically along the walls — the tacky type with legs carved into the shape of animal paws. 

Gently, Pomni did as Ragatha asked, setting the ragdoll down on the silky cushions. Despite her less-than-peachy mood, she still took extra care to make sure Ragatha’s weight was well-centered, and that her shoulders were propped up nicely against the backrest — lest Ragatha end up sliding off and flopping helplessly to the ground. 

“That’s perfect, Sweetheart. Thank you.” Ragatha shifted around, settling into her seat. She looked Pomni in the eyes and patted the empty spot beside her. 

Pomni plopped down with a huff. Like a troublemaking kid stuck in the principal’s office, she crossed her arms tightly, flashing her boots a dirty look. 

“Now, if it’s alright with you…” Ragatha exhaled, hands politely nestled in the lap of her royal dress, “Tell me what’s bothering you. I’m here to listen.”

Pomni’s tightly-wound posture compressed even further. “I just…” she squirmed, making an indecisive sound that drifted back and forth between a guttural groan and a high-pitched whine. “You and me…!”

She shook her head. She flexed her soles against the carpet. She squeezed the century-old, crumbling stuffing out of the century-old, crumbling couch cushions, until…

“I just don’t get it!” Pomni snapped, “Why would someone like you want anything to do with someone like me?”

Ragatha sat up. “H-Huh!?” 

Pomni’s wilting eyes wandered about Ragatha’s body, settling on the freshest injury slashed across the ragdoll’s torso. “You’ve shown me so much kindness. You’ve protected me, you’ve made me smile, you’ve been a friend when I needed one,” Pomni sighed. Her glowering gaze retreated to the floor.  “Meanwhile, I can’t even keep a simple promise to keep you safe.”

“Keep me safe? What—” Ragatha swatted her hand over the winding tear, “—you’re talking about this? Oh, Pomni! So I tore myself up a little! It isn’t—”

“Isn’t my fault? Give me a break — I’m not stupid!” Pomni fanned her fingers across her chest, “You hurting yourself would never have happened if I hadn’t flipped my lid earlier! I don’t get it, Ragatha — why are you so afraid to stand up for yourself?”

“Pomni!” 

“Why would you forgive me after everything I’ve put you through? Why would you kiss me?” Pomni bared her teeth, eyes jumping from bad, to worse, to awful as she regarded the clumps of cotton bulging out of the broken ragdoll. “How do you not despise me?”

Stunned into silence, Ragatha placed her hand over her throat. She could feel it tightening, strangling her from the inside. 

All was quiet. 

For the longest time, Pomni just sat there, rocking back and forth, stewing in the dreadful silence. And when she finally did open her mouth to reply, she flinched as if the reedy sound of her own voice had caught her off-guard:

“Ragatha…?” she croaked, ���Do you remember yesterday? When we stopped in that clearing, and that horrible tree monster attacked us?”

Ragatha’s face hardened. She nodded.

“When that…thing had me in its clutches, you didn’t run away. You fought for me. And you saved me.”

Ragatha stared at the shivering woman seated beside her. Now, it was her turn to bask in uncomfortable silence, racking her brain to think of something, anything she could possibly say. The uncertain silence stretched father, farther, farther, until she just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because. All this time,” Pomni wilted. “I’ve been wondering. Wondering why.”

“...Why I saved you?”

Pomni just barely eked out a nod. 

“I mean…do I really need a reason?” Ragatha couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “You didn’t expect me to just leave you behind, did you?”

White-hot shame simmered behind Pomni’s eyes. Head in her hands, she slumped closer to the floor, trembling voice peaking just above a whisper: “Did you expect me to…?” 

Ragatha snapped to attention, hand flattened against her chest. Pins and needles numbed the tips of her fingers.

So. This was it. 

Finally, they were talking about it.

Ragatha bastioned herself. She took a deep breath, and—

“You don’t have to make excuses for me,” Pomni croaked. She held her musketeer cap over her face, crumpling the wide brim beneath her fingers. “What I did to you…” her pupils retreated, “...it was awful. Just awful.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Ragatha shook her head. “For all of that crazy stuff to happen on your first day? Before you’d even had time to adjust? You were in shock. You were terrified.  It wouldn’t be fair to judge your actions based on—”

“How did you convince yourself that your feelings don’t matter?”

Ragatha’s face fell flat. “...Pardon?”

“I know you’re just trying to be kind. Because that’s the type of person you are,” Pomni said. “But…you need to stop.”

“St-Stop?”

“I hurt you. How do you expect to heal if all we do is dance around it?”

“I…” Ragatha’s mouth slowly shut. She felt utterly transparent — and in the span of a single second, the mental house of cards that she had so carefully constructed for years came crashing down in a big, fluttering heap. 

‘How did you convince yourself that your feelings don’t matter?’ Pomni’s blunt words ricocheted off the walls of her mind. ‘How do you expect to heal if all we do is dance around it?‘

Ragatha wilted. She didn’t know the answer.

She was so accustomed to being the first one to offer a supportive ear, the first one to provide a firm shoulder to cry on, that her own feelings had long ago been exiled to a dusty, long-forgotten corner of her mind. 

Like everyone else, she wanted nothing more than to escape the digital insanity ward she found herself trapped in — but she wasn’t naive enough to believe that desire was anything more than a pipe dream. For now, and maybe forever, her weird little found family of co-prisoners was all she had. And she knew it.

So she had to keep the peace. She had to be the neutral voice of reason, the rock solid foundation that kept everyone bound together — and that balancing act alone was taxing enough. Why in the world would she want to foil that precarious peace with her own petty problems?

But it was…fine. It was. Ragatha had always been good at regulating her own emotions. All she had to do was bury any bothersome thoughts beneath a heap of questionable excuses, paper-thin rationales, and half-baked half-truths until the pesky voices didn’t pester her so much anymore. And just look at her! She was fine. 

Totally fine. No problems here. Nope. 

Shakily, Ragatha swallowed. Her head slumped. Who was she kidding, lying to herself like this…? Why was it so difficult to just be honest about the burden she carried — the pain, the loneliness, the emotional isolation that weighed her down further each day? And why, after all these years, was she just now questioning all of this?

Her heart beat just a little bit faster. Her breathing picked up to match. Her eyes brimmed with tears as, out of nowhere, the obvious answer whisked through her mind:

No one had ever cared to ask. No one besides Pomni.

A cozy sense of safety embraced Ragatha’s heart. She didn’t care to turn away, or hide her face beneath her hands, or wipe away her rolling tears. It was okay to cry here. 

Her wandering, watery eyes heeded the disheveled nest of hat hair that adorned Pomni’s head. They admired the unrelenting dorkiness of the jester’s forced-on musketeer costume. They beheld, as if in a trance, a lovely pair of pinwheels bursting with one-thousand-and-one emotions at once. 

She smiled, warmly and earnestly. So this was what it felt like. To be cared for. 

“Okay then,” Ragatha spoke softly, forcing her mouth to take the shape of the words. She couldn’t help but squirm, tearing open the door on feelings that she’d already worked so hard to lock away. “I’m going to be very frank with you — because I trust you. And I know you trust me.”

Pomni cowered behind her crinkled cap, fingers carving crude lines across the rawhide brim. Her pupils retreated meekly toward the floor. 

Ragatha bit her lip. “Back on your first day, when you left me alone with Kaufmo? Yeah. That hurt. I was confused, and scared, and angry, and…” Ragatha swallowed, “...a-and…”

“And what…?

“And I came closer to losing myself than I ever had before.”

Pomni’s cap wrinkled beneath the jester’s tightened grip. “Wh-what!? You mean…?”

Every jumbled line of code that comprised Ragatha’s digital body shrieked at her to stop, to be a good girl, to shut her big mouth and stop causing drama. Nevertheless, she made her story heard. “I’m not that strong, Pomni,” she said, “I’m just good at hiding my weakness. Probably too good, to be honest…”

“But…but that doesn’t make sense! When I came back to you, your body was all glitchy and flickery — but you weren’t abstracting!”

“Looks can be deceiving.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Think about it. All of us have vastly different digital forms, — so, naturally, they abstract in vastly different ways, too. Whenever I feel myself slipping…” Another tear raced down Ragatha’s face at the thought. She crossed her bulky, dollish hands over her chest, “...it starts on the inside.”

Pomni lowered her cap to her chin, exposing her drooping face. “In your heart?”

Glancing away, Ragatha nodded. She stroked the back of her hand in a self-soothing gesture. “I could feel the threads fraying as soon as we opened Kaufmo’s door. The seams of my heart began to tear open, and this awful coldness spread throughout my body.”

“And…” Pomni hesitated, “...then I left you. All alone. And y-you almost…”

“Yeah. But, you know…” Ragatha met Pomni’s crinkled, shame-stricken gaze, and a smile — a real, genuine smile — put an end to her tears. “...I’m still here. Do you know why?”

“Well, I…” Pomni glanced here and there. Her hat sank further down to cover her chest. “Um…”

“You said it yourself, Sunshine,” Ragatha’s smile made itself comfortable, stretching wider and shining brighter. “You came back.”

 Pomni’s eyes were wide, “I...what?”

“You came back for me, Pomni.” Ragatha pressed her hands against her mouth; her grin grew and grew until it almost looked like she was laughing. “When I heard you plodding down the hall, worried sick, calling after me with that nasally little voice of yours—

“Nasally!?”

“Gosh, you sounded worried sick…” Ragatha giggled, taking Pomni’s hands into hers. “Pomni, just in the handful of days I’ve known you, you’ve proven yourself to be one of the most caring, most courageous, most selfless people I’ve ever met,” Ragatha said. Her thumb glided lovingly against the back of Pomni’s hand, “One mistake doesn’t change that.”

Pomni wasn’t looking back. Her chin quivered slightly, and her hands wriggled stubbornly in Ragatha’s grip.

“Didn’t anybody tell you what happened after that? After I went to find Caine?” Pomni sniffed. “I found a door. I tried to leave. I wasn’t thinking about anyone else except myself, and—” 

“And I forgive you.” Ragatha said. She felt the jester’s shuddering grip tighten around her hands. 

“I’m trying to forgive myself, too.” Pomni glowered at the winding constellations of slices, holes, and cuts wrapped all around Ragatha’s body. She studied their shape closely, her face warping further with every newly-discovered fray. “I’m trying as hard as I can to make up for the way I treated you, but no matter how hard I try, you keep getting hurt. And I just…” she sighed. “...I wish I could go back in time. I wish I could have saved you.”

Ragatha sighed, looking over Pomni’s hands. The poor girl was being so hard on herself — it hurt just to listen to.

Letting go, Ragatha reached into her pocket and produced a round, palm sized box. The transparent lid revealed its contents: A needle, several spools of thread, and a worn-out, heart-shaped pincushion. 

“I…what…?” Pomni blanched. She fastened her cap back on her head. “What is this…?”

Ragatha pressed the container into Pomni’s hands. “You tell me,” she said.

“A…sewing kit?” Pomni held the box up to her ear and gave it a light shake. The contents rattled around inside. “Wait a minute — you just had this on you the whole time?!”

“Uh, well…” Ragatha forced out an awkward laugh, “...kind of?”

“So I did all that work for nothing?!”

“Trust me. It wasn’t for nothing.” Ragatha winked. It was cruel — all she wanted to do was reach over and smother Pomni in a great big hug, but she knew that doing so would only strain her stitches. Confined to her half of the couch, Ragatha gazed pleadingly into Pomni’s eyes, tugging the woman’s arms toward herself with a look that said ‘please, come closer.’

In no time at all, Pomni acquiesced, letting herself be swept into Ragatha’s embrace. Ragatha draped her arms over Pomni’s rigid backside, and rested her forehead against hers. 

“Pomni,” she said, “if you really want to give this a shot, you have to know that one of us is going to screw something up sooner or later. We’re only human, after all, and if there’s one thing every human is good at, it’s #%@$ing up.”

Pomni flinched at the rare curse word out of Ragatha’s mouth — and, for the slightest moment, she even cracked a wary smile. “Yeah,” she snickered, rolling her forehead against the dolly’s. “that’s true…”

Ragatha smiled brighter. “But I know we’ll be okay. We’ll learn from our mistakes, and come out stronger on the other side. Because I love you, and if there’s one thing adventuring with you has taught me…” Ragatha closed Pomni’s fingers around the sewing kit, “...it’s that no matter what happens, we’ll always be there to put each other back together again.”

The kit’s plastic casing whined in Pomni’s ever-tightening grip. Pomni sat in stunned silence — but her tepid breath pounded against Ragatha’s neck just as before. Butterflies swooped and swirled in Ragatha’s stomach as Pomni’s hand combed through the dolly’s cherry-red curls — pinching, petting, rolling frayed twists between her fingers. 

“Ragatha…?”

“Hm?”

Pomni swallowed. “D-Did you just say…” Pomni’s fingers traced a jagged line across the stitched surface of Ragatha's cheek, “...you love me…?”

Ragatha shrugged, casual as could be, “I did, didn’t I?”

A big, stupid smile brightened Pomni’s face. “I—” she stammered, resting her weary head upon the ragdoll’s soft shoulder. “I—” she stuttered still, her weak, wavering voice crumbling to pieces. “I love you, too...”

Ragatha’s heart sang with pure joy. 

She let out a mirthful laugh, squeezing her darling as hard as she could. Pomni squeezed back, and all at once, a wonderful feeling of belonging — of finally returning home after having been away for so long — warmed the ragdoll from her very core.  

“My beautiful little ray of sunshine…” Ragatha spoke through a shuddering smile, running her hands through Pomni’s chestnut hair, breathing in her breathtaking essence. “...I love you with all of my—”

Regrettably — or perhaps not, depending on who you asked — there wasn’t much room for that kind of sentiment between the lines of the Circus’s cold, uncompromising code. Whether or not its players were soulmates, shared the same star sign, or called each other cute little pet names hardly mattered. This heart-pounding adventure was falling apart, and fast. 

Another savage quake shook the mansion’s decrepit foundation. Bricks, metal fittings, and chunks of rotten wood fell like rain. Noxious plumes of who-knows-what poured down from the ceiling. 

Ragatha and Pomni yelped in tandem. And it only got worse from there. 

Instinctively, Ragatha pointed her triangular nose toward the rumbling ceiling — but she did so just in time for a sizeable chunk of falling drywall to clonk her directly on the snout. She cried out, suddenly and sharply, from the dizzying pain. 

The abrupt noise caused Pomni, who still clung to Ragatha, to flinch and lose her balance. She tumbled off the sofa and onto the dirty floor, dragging a wincing Ragatha down with her. They landed in a heap — Ragatha on top, and Pomni squished below. 

All around, rattling chandeliers swung to and fro like crystal pendulums. Antique bookshelves teetered and tottered, vomiting their dusty contents onto the floor. A cavernous fissure split the ceiling with a bloodcurdling crack, spraying forth needles of splintered wood like lethal confetti. 

“R-R-Ragatha!” Pomni ground her teeth, hugging her girlfriend tightly. The back of her head paddled violently against the vibrating floor. “Ow! Ow! Ow!” she cringed in pain…

…but then, just as suddenly as it had started, the rumbling ceased. 

Pomni groaned, opening her eyes again. She blinked in the newfound peace, gawking at the woman laying precariously on top of her. Assorted debris coated the floor around the pair like a blanket of dirtied snow. 

“Oh my gosh! A-Are you—” Pomni hacked up a cloud of grimy dust, “— are you okay?”

“Aww. Look at you, all concerned for little old me,” Ragatha pecked Pomni’s cheek. “Don’t worry. I’m made of cotton. I’ve walked away from way nastier falls than that.” 

“Oh! Yeah. Right,” Pomni blushed. “I keep forgetting we aren’t exactly human anymore...”

“You’re cute.” Ragatha said with a freehearted giggle. She admired her partner’s dorky little hat, the brim of which was entirely covered in grimy mansion-dust. To be fair, though, her own hair likely didn’t fare any better — a fact which Pomni would confirm a moment later:

“Uh…by the way,” Pomni pointed to the left side of her head. “You’ve got a little something here.” 

“Oh, really? A little something?”

“Yeah. And also…” Pomni’s finger jumped around her head, “...here. And here, and here…”

 “Gosh, that’s an awful lot of ‘little somethings’...” Ragatha giggled. “To tell you the truth, you’ve also got something here,” she pointed to one side of her head, “and here. And…”

Ragatha’s voice trailed off. Deliberately, she lowered her head, eyes narrowing. 

The bank of dust atop Pomni’s musketeer cap was…moving. Spinning. All on its own.  Around and around, the miniscule particles ran an endless circuit around the cured leather brim, slowly drifting upward with each completed lap. Before long, the spinning particles had formed an upside-down cone shape — a tiny tornado of dust. Atop Pomni’s head. 

What in the world…? 

Ragatha could only stare, her mouth ajar. She watched through squinting eyes as the vortex grew tighter and taller, bending with purpose the way a blooming flower reached for the sun. She knew she ought to be used to this sort of nonsense by now, but miraculously, the deranged parade of oddities she encountered every day still managed to confound her, even after all these years. At least Jax wasn’t around to chide her for the stupid look on her face. 

“Uh, hellooo? Are you even listening!?” Pomni waved her hand in front of Ragatha’s face, derailing the redhead’s racing train of thought. “What are you staring at?”

Snapped back into the real world — or, at least, a convincing facsimile thereof — Ragatha’s gaze settled on Pomni. Words failed her, and so, she simply pointed.  

With a bewildered blink, Pomni’s eyes followed the slight downward curve of Ragatha’s finger. The jester’s shuddering gaze inched down the corridor, following the length of the swirling vortex until, at last, the anomaly disappeared into the distant darkness. 

Pomni balked, rubbing her eyes. “The #@$% is that…?”

And it only got weirder from there. 

A second whirlwind — sourced from a pile of debris on a nearby bookshelf — formed in the same way. It stretched down the corridor, fading into the pitch black just like its predecessor. A third, made from the dust coating a palisade of pulverized paintings, came next. A fourth followed suit, then a fifth, a seventh, a tenth, a twentieth — until the vast network of swirling arteries was far too numerous to count. 

Though difficult to make out in the dark, the endpoint of each vortex intersected at a single, unified point. There, an amorphous, filthy cloud began to form. It swelled larger — and larger, and larger — inhaling each and every speck of filth that had accumulated in the hallway. Then, like a mound of clay molded by supernatural hands, the cloud’s shapeless form gradually began to define itself:

A snaking, trunk-like body, made up of dozens of interlocking segments. A pair of gaunt, twitching appendages flanked each of these sections, sprouting one after the next like an infestation of wriggling weeds. A final segment, sporting two nasty spikes, capped off the end. A set of peering eyes, gnashing pincers, and twitching antennae distinguished the head. 

Ragatha whimpered, shrinking away from her worst nightmares made manifest.

It was a centipede. Filth and disease incarnate. A grotesque, fetid creature from hell, standing one foot taller than her and extending longer than her eyes could even perceive. 

The dolly’s patchwork heart seized within her chest. Jittering, black spots infested her blurring vision, dancing without a care as the narrow walls of the haunted corridor closed in. 

The hall was spotless now; every last speck of dust and debris had been funneled into the beast’s frightening form. And so, with its formation complete, the creature came to life.

“P-Pomni…!” Ragatha gasped, roughly clutching her chest. Something had snapped. Something inside of her. No. No, no, no, no, no. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening. 

The centipede turned. Snap. 

The centipede cocked its head. Snap. 

The centipede creeped closer, and closer, and closer still, its long, slender legs chattering loudly against the floor. Snap. Snap. Snap.

“Pomni! P-Please…!”

The fragile seams of Ragatha’s heart popped one-by one, stretched out to their absolute limit. A cold, barren sensation slithered out of the organ with every stuttering pump, numbing all that dared to touch its toxic essence.

///

My Ko-fi - Tips are very much appreciated! :)

[First Chapter] [Next Chapter - Coming soon!]

*dies of exhaustion on top of keyboard*

[welp0w0]

Candy Hearts...

...and Paper Flowers

(credits, audio origin and drawing without audio under the cut)

this is fanart of @ask-the-rag-dolly's blog moments :)

here is the drawing without audio:

and the audio came from this video:

[terastal-luxray]

Me OMW to find that headset so I can yeet myself into The Amazing Digital Circus so I don't have to work another soul-sucking shift at Walmart

[gravitycavity]

I've never received fan art before -- This is SO AMAZING!!! @sunification, Thank you so so much!!!

sunshine

Fanart of my favorite fanfic! Comic by @gravitycavity

Original comic these lines came from (this was chapter 2)

[thetownnarcoleptic]

The Mario Wonder stream last night was pretty awesome. Stayed up past midnight drawing what essentially amounts to a doodle and a shitpost. Bowser is the ultimate metalhead dad, and WOW those flowers really have a thing for slime.

[gravitycavity]

Sunshine (Pomni x Ragatha) Chapter 6 - Radiant

[Click here to read from the beginning on AO3!]

Cover art by @blukiar

Vanilla and dried leaves and crisp morning air. 

Ragatha savored the feminine aura that enveloped her, hands shivering as they strangled the silky fabric of Pomni’s tunic. She leaned in, pressing harder. A delightful, breathy sound snuck out of the corners of her mouth as Pomni’s lips yielded to hers. They were soft. Sweet. The warmest thing she’d ever tasted. 

“Pomni…” Ragatha drifted at last from the cozy embrace, breath shuddering in sync with the rest of her body. Her good eye peeked open just a crack. Her hands turned slack and listless. One-by-one, her fingers lost their grip on Pomni’s tunic until, inevitably, she felt herself falling. 

Pomni caught her, of course — Ragatha knew that she would. 

Safe and secure in the arms of her fearless knight, Ragatha pulled her legs toward her core, making herself small. Her eyelids dragged fully open. It had felt like an eternity since she’d last looked at that gorgeous face, and she couldn’t stand to wait a single second longer.

Pomni’s hesitant smile, framed by her perennial blush, regarded Ragatha from up above. Ragatha’s face bloomed to match it. The jester brightened, too — just a little. 

God. Radiant. 

“Um…” Pomni’s expression dimmed again as she swallowed, her pupils wandering here and there. “How was that?”

Wonderful. Absolutely, unbelievably, impossibly wonderful. Ragatha had never felt this particular kind of rush before — the kind that made her head feel fuzzy, that made her limbs start to tingle, that made her heart beat so quickly and unendingly that it actually hurt. 

If any of her past romantic rendezvous were any indication, Ragatha had been sure that all those romance novels she used to read on her lunch breaks had been exaggerating. She didn’t think it was actually possible to become breathless at the mere thought of another person. Or that a single pair of eyes could actually make the whole world cease to exist — yet here she was, cuddled up in this little woman’s big, strong arms, stupidly in love. 

There was no chance in hell she’d actually say any of that sickeningly-saccharine fluff out loud, though. Goodness gracious, could you imagine? No, Ragatha’s love language was a little bit more subtle than that — and, contrary to her usual way of conducting herself, a tad meaner, too. 

“Hmph.” Ragatha crossed her arms, pointing her face toward the ballroom’s lofty windows. She pursed her lips to conceal a sly smirk. “Just as I suspected…”

Pomni crinkled her brow. “Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, it’s nothing! Just…” Ragatha spun her ankle, “Nevermind.”

“Nevermind!? What do you mean ‘nevermind’? You can’t just leave me hanging like that!”

“I just did.”

“Ragatha!” Pomni stamped her foot, “If you’ve got something to say, then say it!” 

“Well, alright. If you insist,” Ragatha pretended to force out a hard sigh; in reality, she was barely able to contain her boisterous laughter. Teasing this girl would never, ever get old. “Don’t get me wrong. Kissing you was a dream come true, but,” she paused, “and please don’t take this the wrong way—”

“Spit it out, already!”

“— I wouldn’t call you a particularly…gifted kisser.”

Pomni thrashed backward; her face was fully boiled. “WH-WHAT?!”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, Sweetheart, but I’m too nice to lie to you. That kiss could have gone better.” Ragatha smirked, seizing hold of Pomni’s tunic once again. She tugged her body closer, utterly captivated by the nervous panic spreading across the jester’s cute little face. “I have a lot to teach you…”

“W-Well…!” Pomni squirmed, sweat beading on her brow, “You are pretty good at that! Teaching, I mean…”

“So I’ve been told~” Ragatha laid down a trio of smooches across Pomni’s cheek, giggling all the while. With each gentle embrace, Ragatha’s lips treaded closer to Pomni’s until, at last, they briefly met again.

Pomni squeaked. 

“Now, then,” Ragatha broke off her smooch, “We’ll start with the basics, and work up from there. How’s that sound?”

Pomni was as red as a tomato. She responded with a dazed, stilted nod. “S-Sure…”

“That’s the spirit.” Ragatha bopped Pomni on the snout, despite her steadfast efforts to resist.  This girl was just too cute. “First things first. Your kiss was great — very warm, very passionate, very genuine — but I have to say, you seemed awfully nervous.”

“Nervous…?”

“Way too tense. It’s a kiss, Sunshine, not a job interview. Just relax, hold me close, and press your lips to mine. That’s all there is to it.”

Pomni chewed on her lip for a few silent moments. Soon, her dominant hand was wandering up the length of Ragatha’s back, settling firmly between the ragdoll’s shoulders. Then, exploiting her new leverage, Pomni moved her face closer.

Ragatha was fully prepared to swoon, but something strange — the slight pang of discomfort simmering behind Pomni’s eyes — gave her pause. 

Ragatha drifted away, consciously or not. Her face reflected Pomni’s uneasy mask.

The brightness with which Pomni’s eyes had shined mere moments ago had dimmed almost completely.  Was it anxiety? Reluctance? General melancholy? Was Pomni just playing the part of her usual worrywort self, or was something the matter…?  

No, no. Don’t overthink it. It was probably just nerves. That dorky new girl just had her first kiss, after all — people always get that stupid look on their face their first time.  

Ragatha’s train of thought skidded to a halt, however, as Pomni clumsily shoved her lips into hers. Twice as quickly, and thrice as ungracefully, the awkward jester tore her mouth away from Ragatha’s like her very life depended on it. 

“Th-There.” Pomni wiped her mouth. Her eyes diligently avoided any contact, “Better?”

Ragatha cleared her throat. Somehow, that was even worse. Maybe even the least satisfying kiss of her entire life. How to let her down easy…? 

The dolly helped herself to a few patient breaths. “Let’s begin with the positives. You took the initiative this time, which was nice. And there was less, um…” Ragatha squinted, “...suction. Always a plus. As for the things you could improve…”

Ragatha rocked her head back and forth, starting, stopping and re-starting the same sentence a half-dozen times before finally finding the right words. “Sweetheart,” she finally said, “do you think you could try giving me a little bit…more?”

“More…?” 

“Look, I don’t mean to split hairs, but that was more of a peck than a kiss, don’t you think?”

“I… guess so.” Pomni deflated, looking more like a lost puppy with every passing moment. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m cut out for this. I should’ve never even asked to kiss you in the first place—”

“What? No, no, no! It wasn’t bad, Pomni! I just wished that it had lasted a little bit longer. You pulled away so quickly, I barely had any time to enjoy it.”

“Y-Yeah…” Pomni sighed. 

Ragatha tilted her head with a soft, reassuring smile. “Let’s try again. I’ll lead, you follow. Before you pull away, try counting to two in your…”

…her voice trailed off, suddenly distracted by a strange sensation. Pomni’s arms were trembling. Trembling hard.

“Oh, dear,” Ragatha’s mature voice cracked with compassion. There was something wrong. “Pomni, what’s the matter? Your arms are…”

“N-N-No, th-th-that’s-s-s n-n-not m-m-me!” Pomni stammered — and for once, her pesky nerves weren’t the ones to blame. Wobbling on one foot like a clumsy cartoon character, she craned her neck forward, trying to see the ground over her hefty armful.

A dissonant aria of creaking wood sounded as a slight, but persistent tremble shook the stage. A handful of musician’s chairs toppled over around the girls, solidly-crafted frames harshly smashing against the weathered timber floor. A half-dozen music stands fell over next — a prelude to the disjointed melody that disgraced the air as a handful of musical instruments crashed, clanked, and clanged against the floor. 

But in no time at all the quizzical trembling was all said and done.

Pomni just stood there in the aftermath, utterly dumbfounded, wearing the world’s most clueless expression. Ragatha did much the same. 

“Well,” Ragatha scratched her temple, “that was weird—”

A second, dramatically stronger earthquake — so strong that the stage beneath the girls suddenly crunched in half — rocked the digital plane. 

“Pomni!” Ragatha yelped like a frightened kitten, clinging to Pomni’s waist as needle-thin splinters sprayed forth like wooden shrapnel. 

“D-Don’t worry! I’ve got you!” Pomni held Ragatha as tightly as she could, planting her legs in a wide stance. Taking a moment to find her balance, she dashed away from the swarm of timber shards, leaping off the collapsed stage with total confidence. 

Unfortunately for her (and by extension, Ragatha), that confidence was in no way earned. It was far easier to leap than it was to land, and Pomni, not exactly being the athletic type, did so in a heap, skinny frame roughly impacting the hard marble dance floor. 

Ragatha grunted in pain, feeling a few more stitches pop as she tumbled out of Pomni’s arms. She rolled across the floor and came to a rest a stone’s throw away. 

Eventually, the world stopped spinning, and the dazed dolly blinked her eyes open. For a moment, she was seeing double — but a quick rattle of her head cleared up her topsy-turvy vision.

Pomni practically launched toward Ragatha. “Oh my gosh!” she fell to her knees, “Ragatha! Are you okay!?”

Unable to stand up by herself, Ragatha could only lie on her back, staying motionless like a discarded ragdoll on a playroom floor. Painfully aware of what made that hilariously sad, she tried not to laugh, staring up at Pomni’s panicked face from her upside-down point-of-view. 

“Ragatha! Hello? Are you alright?”

“I am now.” Ragatha ended up laughing anyway, twisting a red curl around her finger. Maybe the blood was rushing to her head — or maybe she just felt like doing it. 

Pomni’s face was red. “Be serious!”

Ragatha snorted. “I’m okay! I promise you.”

Pomni let out a huff, brushing away a thicket of splinters that had embedded themselves into the many folds of her padded musketeer costume. Thankfully, none of the fibrous projectiles had managed to pierce through to the skin. “I’ll probably be a little sore in the morning, but I’m okay, too.”

“Well, that’s…good.” Ragatha stretched her arms and legs. “Hey, Pomni?”

“Yeah?” Pomni scooted closer.

“Your greatest fear wouldn’t happen to be earthquakes, would it?”

“Trust me. If I was bothered by earthquakes, you would know by now,” Pomni rubbed her chin, looking pensive, “To tell you the truth, I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“Nope. My fear is centipedes. It’s always been centipedes.” Ragatha shivered, quickly discarding the thought. She examined the carnage around her — a stage split in two, dusty clouds sulking about, a hostile sea of shattered ceramic and broken glass drowning the dance floor. It didn’t add up. “So, then…what’s going on?”

“Maybe the earthquakes are just set dressing? There’s lots of things we’ve encountered that had no real significance beyond confusing us or creeping us out. Remember that room with the theremin-player?”

“He really did just sit in the corner, doing his thing.” Ragatha nodded — she had to give her that one. “But what if the earthquakes aren’t just incidental? What if they have something to do with the key puzzle? We still haven’t solved it, have we?”

“Oh!” Pomni perked up. “Oh.” Pomni frowned. “Oh…” Pomni’s face twisted into an exaggerated caricature of itself. “Like… maybe the room is telling us we did it wrong? Or maybe we’re running out of time, and the room is collapsing in on us?! Oh, God! And maybe—”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” The ether trembled, disturbed by the ghastly vibrations of a familiar, haughty voice. “Are you lot really that daft!?” 

Pomni and Ragatha let out a yip and a yelp, respectively. Both heads swiveled on a dime. 

Who but Margarethe MacGuffin — the malevolent matriarch of MacGuffin Manor herself — could be looming overhead? Practically snarling, the ghostly socialite cocked her signature book parallel to her face, ready to chuck the hefty tome through — not at — the nearest head. 

“You solved the puzzle! The. Door. Is. OPEN!” she shrieked like a ghoul, “It’s been open for five minutes! If you two sapphic scoundrels would quit necking each other long enough to look up at your surroundings, perhaps you would know that!”

Pomni nearly fell over backwards, hands splattered all over her beet-red face. “Uh…! U-Uh!”

Meanwhile, Ragatha squealed like a stomped chew toy, waving her hands frantically across the marble floor, “Miss MacGuffin! I don’t know what you think you saw, but we weren't—’ she stammered, “We aren’t—”

“Save your breath.” Margarethe squared her tome against her hip. “I couldn’t care less about your love life — what do I care about is my brooch, and I’m growing quite tired of watching whatever awful soap opera you two are dead-set on re-enacting. I mean, forgive me, but it is just terrible. Absolutely horrifying.”

Ragatha’s entire face contorted in horror. “You were watching us?!” 

Margarethe wagged her finger in Ragatha’s face, barely missing the ragdoll’s triangular snout. “Hold your tongue. I’m not finished.” Another small tremor shook the mansion. “I humbly suggest that you two pick up the pace before I end up kneeling before the gates of hell, begging to be let back in. And before you end up failing this entire mission.”

“Failing?” Pomni shot a panicked glance toward Ragatha, then flung her gaze back toward the phantom. “Wait, we can fail?! No one told us we could fail!”

“Hmph! So typical — absolutely no accountability taken.” Margarethe tutted, “Really, it’s my own fault. I shouldn’t have expected some pampered whelp from the swing generation to have a grasp on personal responsibility.”

Pomni squinted. “What year do you think this is?”

“Change the subject all you want, it’s not helping your case.” Margarethe casually inspected her monstrous manicure, “nor is it going to change anything about your deliciously-dire circumstances.”

“What circumstances!? What case?! You’re not making any sense, lady!”

“Pomni!” Ragatha raised her voice. “Were you raised in a barn?! Mind your manners!”

“What are you, my mom?”

“If I were, I’d be ashamed.” Ragatha crossed her arms. “Now quit running your big mouth before we get into even more trouble!” 

Ragatha took a moment to compose herself before turning her attention to the ghostly hostess. The fact that she was still laying on the floor didn’t seem to phase her. “Miss MacGuffin,” she said with a calm, controlled cadence, “I’m afraid we don’t understand what you’re trying to say. Why exactly do we need to hurry?” 

Pomni rolled her eyes. “Kiss-@$#.”

Margarethe lifted her chin approvingly, cracking open her spellbook. “...See, I could try explaining with words, but your little pet here seems to be a few cents short of a dollar. How about I just show you — that way, her little peabrain has something exciting to look at while the adults are talking?”

Pomni’s mouth warped into a sharp-toothed grimace — but Ragatha, thinking fast, deftly raised her voice overpower the string of swears that came barreling out. “Gosh, th-that sounds like a wonderful idea, Miss MacGuffin! Whatever would we do without such a hospitable hostess?!”

“Oh, heavens. Don’t talk me up too much, now.” Margarethe batted a hand, beaming with pride. “There’s a good reason hell doesn’t want me.”

Licking her finger, the phantom flipped through the pages of her voluminous tome before finally planting her nose inside. She squinted. Her voice took on a low, scratchy timbre as she uttered the hex inscribed upon the yellowed paper. 

“Hallowed spirits beyond the pale!” she bellowed, unable to defy the programming that commanded her to ham everything up to the highest degree, “Hear my call!”

The lights went out all at once, plunging the ballroom into complete darkness. One by one, they flickered to life again. A wave of rollicking flames lit the retinue of charred wicks garrisoned throughout the room — the candelabras upon the tables, the towers of wax planted in the sconces, the tea candles suspended beneath the chandeliers in little glass bowls. 

Ragatha rubbed her eyes. The light show was impressive, if nothing else. 

Margarethe’s spell continued on its course. “Oh, wise spirits, on this most terrible All Hallow’s Eve, lend us the unparalleled, awesome power…” the phantom cast a single, outstretched hand straight into the air, “...of the developer console!”

“The—” Ragatha did a double take, “The #$@&ing what?!”

Like magic, an old-fashioned film projector — paired with a matching typewriter —  popped into existence in front of Margarethe. The cobweb-covered machines floated freely in the air, bobbing with a slight, satisfying rhythm. 

“Display…adventure…stats,” Margarethe thought out loud, her long, ghostly fingers loudly tapping the typewriter’s keys. With one final, dramatic keystroke, a lengthy list of dull statistics was projected onto the wall in black-and-white. 

“There we are!” Margarethe draped her arm across Pomni’s shoulders; her ghostly aura dragged the temperature down by at least fifteen degrees. “Let’s have a look, shall we? Team one: Zooble and Kinger — Adventure status: Complete. Time elapsed: 3.9 hours,” she quoted the list aloud, “Team two: Jax and Gangle — Adventure status: Complete. Time elapsed: 5.3 hours.”

Ragatha glanced at Pomni. Pomni looked down at the floor-bound dolly, waving with an awkward half-smile. Ragatha felt her face take on a warmer hue as she returned a flirtatious wave of her own.

“Ah, look! Here’s you two!” Margarethe pointed, cackling precisely according to her villainous programming. “Team three: Ragatha and Pomni — Adventure status: Incomplete. Time elapsed: 13.1 hours.”

Ragatha balked. “Thirteen hours?!”

“Huh?” Pomni winced like she’d just stepped on a nail, “Is that bad!?” 

Margarethe snapped the makeshift computer out of existence, replacing it with a rusted, palm-sized pocket watch. “Well, it certainly isn’t good.” she remarked matter-of-factly. 

The mansion shivered with another soul-churning tremor as Margarethe calmly examined the watch’s ticking hands. Ceramic shards and broken glass showered the floor as the ballroom’s finely-set tables toppled over two-by-two, three-by-three, four-by-four.

“I really have to spell every little thing out, don’t I?” the phantom clicked her tongue. “Ladies, thanks to your incessant indolence, your persistent procrastination, your dormant dilly-dallying…” she thumbed the timepiece closed, “I’d give you about one hour, give or take, before this whole mansion comes crashing down.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Pomni snapped, “There’s a TIME LIMIT!?” 

“So sorry to disappoint~” Margarethe batted a hand. “As much of a treat it is to haunt — er, host — you two, all good things must eventually come to an end. And I’m afraid our time together is fast approaching that inevitable conclusion.”

“But! But that’s not fair! You can’t just—” Pomni grunted. She grabbed Ragatha by the waist, holding up the ragdoll like a human shield. “Ragatha! Tell her!”

“Well-l…” Ragatha cleared her throat to make way for her ‘teacher’ voice — the gentlest, most placating delivery she could possibly manage. “I appreciate your passion, Pomni. I really do. But to be fair, I did mention this once before…”

Pomni shoved her face closer to Ragatha’s. “You did?”

“Well, just that there’s a time limit. I never explained why.” Ragatha said. She would do her best to explain it in simple terms. “The Digital Circus is a computer game — and not a particularly well-coded one. If I recall correctly, the game’s internal logic suffers from something called a ‘memory leak’, and because of that, adventures can only persist for a certain length of time.”

Pomni seemed intrigued.  “Memory leak…?” she said, finally getting around to actually picking Ragatha up off the floor. She hooked one hand beneath woman’s back, one beneath her legs. 

“I think that’s what Gangle called it.” Ragatha replied. Closing her eyes as she was lifted off of the ground, she took a moment to organize the ins and outs of her explanation. “I’ll put it this way — think of a computer’s memory like your desk at work.” 

“Ugh.” Pomni rolled her eyes, now standing fully. Once again, Ragatha was cradled safely in her arms. “Can we not?”

“No.” Ragatha huffed. “We’re going with the desk analogy, so listen up.”

“Fine.”

“Thank you. Now consider this — you only have so much space on your desk to keep your things, right? If you run out of space, things pile up, and it becomes harder and harder to keep track of everything you need. Your staple remover gets lost, then your extra box of staples, then the stapler itself. You have to resort to binding documents together with paper clips like some kind of deranged lunatic, but then even those get lost in the shuffle.”

“Wow…” Pomni closed her eyes. Her breath ebbed and flowed at a gentle, meditative pace, “It’s like I’m really there…”

“The point is, you get overwhelmed trying to keep track of everything.” Ragatha said. “Computers work the same way. A well-designed game would free up the ‘desk space’ — or memory — it uses the moment it’s finished using it. But Caine’s adventures don’t do that. AI, physics, lighting — it all just piles up, never getting cleared away, until—”

“Until the adventure crashes?”

Ragatha nodded, wincing a little. “It’s not an issue as long as adventures get completed in a timely manner, but around the 13 hour mark, things start to become unstable…”

“And…” Pomni bit her lip,  “And what happens after a crash?”

“I…don’t really know, to tell you the truth. It’s never happened to me.” Ragatha glanced up at MacGuffin Mansion’s resident ghoul. “Miss MacGuffin?”

“Well, don’t look at me.” Margarethe crossed her arms, “13 hours ago, I didn’t even exist. How on God’s green Earth should I know?”

Another tremor rattled the mansion’s foundation. Windows shattered. Furniture fainted. A hairline fissure flashed across the western wall and began a slow, deliberate crawl toward the ceiling.

Holding Ragatha closely, Pomni peeled her shoe off the checkered marble, retreating by a single, wobbly step. “N-Not good…” she mumbled. Her pinwheel pupils tightened toward the centers of her eyes, smothered by a sea of white. “Not good, not good…”

“Ah! But fear not, honored guests — you may just complete this terrifying adventure yet!” Margarethe flew into the air, punctuating her announcement with another flamboyant spin. “For I, the great Margarethe MacGuffin, have graciously decided to lend a helping hand. A shortcut, if you will.”

“Shortcut…?” Ragatha placed her hands over her stomach — her stuffing was stirring.

Margarethe winked. She snapped her fingers. In the blink of an eye, Pomni, Ragatha, and their ghostly hostess were zapped out of the ballroom. A split-second later, they reappeared in an entirely new environment: a long, dark corridor, lit only by the moonlight peering shyly from the windows. 

Pomni flinched. “What?!” Her head snapped here and there as she tried to make sense of her new surroundings. “Where are we?”

“Why, we’ve skipped to the good part, darling.” Margarethe’s cheshire grin stretched all the way across her ghastly visage. 

“G-Good part?”

“You see, I had some other rooms planned out for you two, but at the rate you’re going, you’d never, ever make it through them in time. So,” she shrugged, “seeing as you’re likely going to fail anyway, I might as well get some free entertainment before this pathetic attempt of yours crumbles to pieces…” Margarethe’s eyes lit up as another shiver shook the mansion. “...literally.”

Cracking up at her own joke, Margarethe keeled over, shattering the corridor’s windows with a high-pitched cackle of masochistic delight. “I’ll see you on the other side, darlings! That is…” she snickered, cupping her cheeks with childlike glee, “…if you survive!” 

In the blink of an eye, she was gone.

///

My Ko-fi - Tips are very much appreciated! :)

[First Chapter] [Next Chapter]

A bit of a shorter chapter this time! I decided to just post the one scene I had finished as chapter 6 and push everything else I had drafted for this chapter into chapter 7. So, on the bright side, Chapter 7 is almost finished, too! :)

Anyway, thank you for reading!