Chapter Text
If Ragatha still had nails, it would be digging deeply into her skin right now. Cutting into the surface, poking out blood and staining her knuckles. Instead, her fists were clenched around her skirt, gripping, squeezing—to the point that her palms itched with the urge to tear the fabric apart. The relief of tension aching her wrists never comes, and so, her fingers continued to tighten until the tips could possibly glitch through her hand.
Oh, She would take anything at this point. How ironic, in the time where Ragatha wants to feel the most pain, she couldn’t.
It was a visceral reaction, that’s for sure. Even in the moments where Ragatha felt like she would actually throttle Jax, or when she’s letting everything out in the privacy of her own room, these emotions never felt like it encompassed her entire being. But here she is, gritting her teeth, thinking of bleeding, her body shaking at the force of holding in on this...
Rage? Despair? Shame? It was totally unclear for Ragatha what exactly this feeling is; but she knew that it was not a positive one. And she also knew that it’s, in some way, related to Pomni.
By internally bringing up the jester, her mind replayed the source of Ragatha’s misery. As if her brain traveled back in time, she found herself back there, in that spot, watching Jax walk off with Pomni again. And again. And again and again and again and...
To Ragatha’s chagrin, she wasn’t strong enough to tear the fabric of her dress.
In any other situation, in any other time, she would’ve been happy for the two of them. She may not be a fan of the rabbit by any means, but she never desired for Jax to die alone and unloved. Like every other Kind And Good Person, Ragatha wished the best for him. Yes. He may have thrown her in a deep-fryer, but holding grudges is not healthy for the mind, and also, besides, that wasn’t the worst pain she has ever felt in her time in the circus, even in this week specifically, so does it even matter anyway...
No. She doesn’t hate that Jax gained a new friend. Hell, she would even congratulate him for making friends with a rock he picked up from the ground if that were the circumstance. It’s just that—She chose him. Her mind screamed.
Of course! Right. It’s because Pomni chose him instead of her. Yeah. That’s fine.
That’s fine.
Her fingers itched. Her dress isn’t the only piece of fabric she wants to tear apart.
Why?
Why why why why why why why why...
She replayed the events of the day, and then she replays every conversation she might’ve had with Pomni, to every second they looked at each other, until it all inevitably blends into a personal film-reel made of every mistake Ragatha has ever done in her life and why she should seriously give up and stop trying.
Clearly, she has done something wrong. Nothing else to explain it. She has done something wrong. And it irked her—it made her angrier—how Jax could very simply swoop in, and get Pomni’s approval in such a short span of time. How? How did he do it? How did it not take him days to do it? She tried, she tried her best to do what’s good, but apparently being good is not enough. Is there a manual for making friends in a technicolor hellscape? Or better yet, making friends in general?
The yucky feeling only got worse when she tore her glance off the ground she’s glaring at, and looked at the trio she followed. To Ragatha’s relief—and disappointment—they were utterly oblivious to the entropy radiating off of her. Here is Zooble and Gangle, in their small little world; talking to each other about art and whatever, while Kinger sat next to Gangle, doing more listening than talking, but still engaged in the conversation all the same.
Gangle’s smiling in her tragedy mask.
Ragatha’s jaw clenched. This adventure was the first time she learned that. That Gangle doesn’t always cry. She never does that around you.
Scream. Yell. Cry. Laugh. Tear. Tear at the stitches forming her body. Forget to breathe. Collapse.
Ragatha chose to relax her hands and smile.
Gangle most likely has never felt safe enough around Ragatha to stop crying. That’s fine. Zooble never particularly relaxed this much around Ragatha. That’s also fine! Really, there’s nothing wrong. As much as she wanted to, she can’t force them to like her. Whatever feelings they have of her, it’s completely fine and dandy, and there is nothing wrong with it in the slightest, no, she is okay with it, if they hate her that’s okay, it’s all okay.
Her hands tensed again.
If she were to just walk away right now, they would probably not notice, but Ragatha still had to announce that she’s leaving anyway. She didn’t dare to look at their eyes as she left, but from the tiny glance she took of Zooble over her shoulder—
She quickly turned her head away. The way Zooble’s brow tensed seared into her mind, following her as she pattered back to the hallway. They all have to be judging her. They all have to be talking about her behind her back. What else? She has done so many embarrassing things on that adventure; said too much, did too much—she was too much.
Ragatha raised her head, and she looked at her smiling portrait. The buzzing in her head got louder. Pinned onto the door, an image of the role she has to play. A ragdoll with an ever-present smile on its face.
She didn’t immediately enter her room. Instead, Ragatha rested her head on the door.
Thump. It sounded like throwing a pillow at wood, rather than the resonating bang that it would be if her skull wasn’t made of linen. But Ragatha preferred it that way. If there’s anyone in their rooms already, it would be unlikely for them to hear the soft thumps of plush against wood.
Thump. The pain that radiated from her head to her stuffing felt like having a drop of water after being dehydrated the entire day. An instant sedative, making the emotions that were weighing on her chest lighter, more manageable to deal with.
This was far from healthy, but it was stimulating to the mind.
Of course, she rarely engages in this behavior—well, to be precise, Ragatha tries to avoid it as much as she can. It was so easy to go too far, so easy to go further than just banging her head. But there were times where everything is too much to deal with, where her chest feel like it would explode from the pressure of holding everything in. Emotions have never been on her side; they’re always overwhelming, too intense to deal with.
It’s no wonder she deals with them by burying them.
Besides. It’s not like you can get a concussion.
Ragatha kept going for what felt like a while, but it, realistically, might’ve been only for a minute. The more she tried, the more force she put into it. It didn’t take too long for her mind to sink into darker places. Why are you stupid. Why are you stupid. Why are you stupid. Why are you—
Her shoulder was tapped. Ragatha flinched, turning around to see... a familiar face.
“Sheesh.” Jax crossed his arms. “I was callin’ your name for a bit, but you weren’t listening. Are you already losing your mind, Raggie?”
The emotions she thought were dimmed from her little ‘episode’ flared back up again, making her breaths come in short bursts. Panic; from Jax witnessing all of that, and having to either explain herself or see him possibly use it against her. Anger; from seeing the last face she wanted to see, the reason why she’s drowning in this internal swirl of chaos in the first place. And shame; for even letting herself give in to that urge. That shameful, tempting urge.
There were so many things Ragatha wanted to say, so much that she wanted to do to him—but she fell back into her natural way of handling things; plastering a grin on her face and laughing everything off. She has pinned herself onto the door, like there were skeletons she’s desperately trying to keep inside. “Oh, hey Jax!” Ragatha’s voice was unusually high-pitched, and she cringed internally, “How’s it going?”
For a moment, Jax’s smile fell, his eyes looking like they were studying her.
Ragatha hated that.
He smiled again. “Oh, it’s going wonderfully. You know, me and Pomni have been getting along great.”
It was clear that he only said that to arise a reaction out of her, the corners of his grin widening as he emphasized Pomni’s name. Ragatha felt her eye twitch, as much as she tried to not give him the satisfaction.
She bit her lip, holding back a curse, or another outburst. Taking a deep breath, Ragatha gritted through her grin—which, at this point, was more of a baring of teeth. “I’m... I’m so happy for you and your new friend, I’m serious.” The bitterness in her tone refused to hide itself, and she grimaced.
Somehow, Jax’s expression managed to get even more mischievous. “Yeah, we’ve been getting so close. I even took her back into her room...” His eyes narrowed, voice softening into a whisper, “You could say that we got even closer in there...”
Ragatha punched his arm, her face now as red as her hair. “I don’t need to know that!”
“Calm down, I was joking, Rags!” Jax snickered. “I just said good night to her and went on my way. Was about to go hit the hay too, ‘til I saw ya banging your head like you’re in a psych ward.”—Ragatha rolled her eye at that comment—”What’s up with that anyway?”
If there was any ounce of concern in Jax’s tone, Ragatha heard none of it. His expression was as smug and punchable as always. He leaned over her with that huge grin, his form casting a shadow over her. Ragatha hated it. Hated how in small, subtle ways, Jax could make her feel powerless.
“It’s none of your business.” She gritted. She’s spilled too much about herself in that bar, and she especially has said too much to Jax. Even coaxed an apology out of her. What else does he want, to hear that she’s feeling very lonely right now? That she thinks everyone hates her right now?
Jax didn’t budge. He didn’t need to say anything for Ragatha to know what he’s thinking. ”That’s not an answer, Rags.”
She took a deep breath. It’s to be expected; if Jax is curious about something, he’ll stop at nothing to get an answer. The only way she could get him to go away without revealing her baggage is to send Jax off with enough pieces to satisfy him.
“I’m... feeling stressed.” Ragatha forced out. It wasn’t the full truth, but it wasn’t a lie either.
She hated the way his eyes narrowed further. “Because, um, today’s adventure was such a doozy, you know?” She hated the way that he leaned back. “A lot sure has happened... and uh, yeah, it got to me there.” She hated the way that he just stood there, not saying a word. “...Just... don’t worry about me! Haha!”
Ragatha finished her awkward rambling with a swing of her arm. God, she needs to shut up forever—
“Okay.” Jax said with a nod. He then turned around, waving an arm. “See ya tomorrow, Ragatha.”
He didn’t say it out loud, but Ragatha knew what he meant anyway. ”Don’t abstract.”
Ragatha watched as Jax just simply walked back to his door. She watched as he swung it open, stepped inside, and closed it behind him, leaving her in total silence. She’s glad that she somehow got him away, but... The tension in her shoulders wouldn’t leave. She couldn’t tear her eyes off his door.
Why?
A persisting question that just never left her mind, even as she slipped into her room and tried to focus on anything else, anything else but the day she had.
Why?
Why is being good not the answer?