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gravitycavity · 1 year ago

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Sunshine (Pomni x Ragatha) Chapter 4: Spellbound

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

Cover art by @blukiar

“...and I’m sorry.” Pomni wiped at her eyes, dragging her drooping gaze up from Ragatha’s torn, tear-soaked dress. “The other day, when I was yelling at you — and everyone else? I was being a jerk.”

Ragatha laughed. “A little. But you’re not a bad person, Pomni — if you were, you wouldn’t have apologized. That takes maturity.”

Pomni sniffed. And sniveled. And sniffed again. “What does it matter? Everyone still hates me…”

“Nobody hates you. Especially not me.” Ragatha sighed. “You’re going through so much, Pomni — we understand.”

Pomni shook her head with a shaky sigh. “I just…” Her voice warbled. Another tear dropped from her shimmering eyes, “...I just want to go home...”

“Oh, Sweetheart. Come here…” Ragatha pulled Pomni closer. She rubbed circles around the little jester’s shuddering back, patiently comforting her until her tears ran dry again — however long it would take.

“...I don’t understand. How do you do it?” Pomni’s voice, still shriveled and small, eventually found the strength to speak again. “You’ve been trapped in this horrible place for years now. How do you stay sane? How do you just…accept it?”

Ragatha stirred her head. Had it really been that long?

“...I try not to dwell on things that are out of my control. To focus on the little things that make life worth living.” she said. “It’s easy to be miserable — cathartic, even — but to focus on the silver lining, even if you have to squint to see it? It’s not easy, but I think it’s worth the trouble. Because it’s always, always, always there.”

Pomni was perfectly still for the longest time, quietly breathing, silently squeezing tear after tear from her weepy eyes. When at last she met Ragatha’s gaze, she opened her mouth to speak — but no words spilled forth. Instead, Pomni simply pressed her cheek against Ragatha’s chest, holding the doll tighter than she ever had before.

And Ragatha smiled. “Yeah…?”

Pomni nodded.

Ragatha hummed softly, brushing her finger through Pomni’s hair. “I’m glad I met you, too.”

🎪

The memory was still fresh.

Ragatha groaned, stirred from her sleep by the court of wild ravens clicking and cawing in the stony branches above. Just like every other morning, her drowsy eyes remained stubbornly shut, but the persistent tap-tap-tapping of woodpeckers kept her mind from sneaking back into slumber.

Propped against the pruned, petrified redwood, Ragatha shifted her head and took in a long, soothing breath. The forest air had thickened overnight, for better and for worse; the aroma of dewy wildflowers just barely masked the foul musk of rotting wood.

She grit her teeth, exhaling through her nose. Ow — Ragatha had forgotten how much it hurt just to breathe. The countless rips and tears carved into her fragile form worked in synergy to maximize her suffering; any slight movement was immediately punished with a cacophonous chorus of pain, pain, and more pain.

Reluctant to even open her eyes, Ragatha remained perfectly still, spacing out her shallow breaths as far apart as she possibly could. Slowly, the roaring in her chest faded into a rumble, the screaming pain in her legs hushed to whispers, and the boiling discomfort in her right arm cooled to a bubbling simmer.

Even as the choir’s shrill song faded into silence, however, a single voice continued its grating chant.

It was odd — Ragatha’s left arm laid just as still as its opposite, yet a bothersome, prickling pain still coiled around the appendage. Even stranger, it was a far different sensation than the rest: instead of a blunt, radiant agony that flared up whenever she tried to move, the pain was…precise. Targeted. And dreadfully persistent.

Every few seconds, something sharp would harass a certain spot on her arm — poking, prodding, stabbing — until her soft skin finally broke. The point would burrow deep into the fresh puncture, dragging something long, dry, and frayed behind it; it tickled as it passed through.

It was an uncomfortable sensation, to say the least, but Ragatha was hardly phased. After all, she’d been living in a body fashioned from cotton and fabric for years at this point — she was rather accustomed to the unique body horror of being stitched back together. The procedure was just a fact of life now, no different than the uncomfortable routines she’d followed to maintain her old, human body—

Wait. Did that mean…?

Where was she? Had she and Pomni failed the adventure? Had they been teleported back to the tent? No, no — of course not. There’d be no need for anyone to stitch her back together if that were the case; Caine could simply snap his fingers and repair her in the blink of an eye.

Not wanting to give herself away, Ragatha sat forward — slightly and slowly. Her good eye was closed, but the periwinkle button that served as its twin would be her secret spyglass.

She concentrated, and the gloomy woods slowly came into focus — as much focus as her barely-functional button eye could handle, at least. She glanced down at her chest, and for a moment, a profound melancholy overcame her: her dear friend Pomni, who had been snuggled so tightly against her the night before, was nowhere to be found.

Her eye scrambled to find her — she didn’t have to look very far.

A blurry blob, roughly the shape of a certain anxious jester, kneeled on the ground beside her. One of the woman’s little hands held Ragatha’s arm in place; the other held some sort of needle. Where had she found a needle!? It trembled, stumbling around the wounded limb with whatever the exact opposite of ‘surgical precision’ was.

Prick, pull.

Ragatha ground her teeth together as the needle passed over, under, and through her fabric skin, slowly but surely mending the tear in her arm. It took everything she had to keep up the act, to not flinch and squirm with every pointed bite — but some outside force compelled her to hold in the urge.

In fact, in some strange, backward way, the pain almost felt pleasant — and Ragatha found herself fighting the slight smirk twitching her cheek. She just couldn’t help it, just like she couldn't help how hard her heart was beating, or the brilliant warmth spreading out from her core.

Each jab was a reminder. Proof positive that even Pomni — the anxious, angry shut-in who hated everything and couldn’t care less if everyone around her died in a horrible accident — had a kind heart underneath all of that harsh, prickly angst.

Ragatha surrendered, letting her smirk blossom into a full smile. She knew it.

Prick, pull.

Stab—

“Oh, go #!$% yourself!” Ragatha yelped. She sat up in a snap, roughly snatching her stinging arm away.

Pomni quailed in fright. “O-O-Oh my gosh! Ragatha! I’m so sorry, are you—”

There was a pause. And then a longer one after that.

The jester blinked. “What did you just say?”

“Nothing! I—” Ragatha was as white as a ghost. “I didn’t mean that!”

“Did you just say the F-word?”

Ragatha cringed. The pain of her injuries was nothing compared to this mental torment. “I’m so, so, sorry! That just slipped out! You have to believe me — I would never!”

“Ragatha, it’s okay! Really! Think about who you’re talking to right now.” Pomni giggled. She was smiling now. “Honestly, I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Ragatha struggled to swallow the embarrassment sizzling in the back of her throat. With her mind too scrambled to think anywhere close to straight, her gaze bounced around the darkness, desperately searching for something she could latch onto to change the subject. It took several moments of hemming and hawing before the obvious pivot she was searching for popped into her head.

Her face still hot, Ragatha looked over herself. Just like she had suspected, Pomni had been hard at work mending her wounds — but it was clear that the younger woman didn’t have much experience with sewing. And by ‘not much’, of course, she meant ‘none whatsoever’.

Frayed threads stuck out from hundreds of jagged stitches. Fluffy chunks of cotton bulged out of hastily-sewn seams that were already starting to come apart. Parts of Ragatha’s delicate fabric skin, stretched and compressed at seemingly random points, were far tighter or looser than they were supposed to be, which made movement even more of a struggle than it already was.

Pomni had done a laughably-poor job; nevertheless, her earnest efforts drove an arrow straight through Ragatha’s soft heart. “I…You…” Ragatha could barely get a word out, “How…?”

“Kind of a long story, actually.” Pomni stared at the gound, rubbing the back of her neck. “So, basically…”

Pomni’s flustered explanation was long, rambling, and hard to parse through all the stuttering. Suffice it to say: over the past several hours, she had gathered the pieces of Ragatha’s torn dress, painstakingly de-threaded them, and twisted them up into thin ropes. Her ‘needle’ was actually the feather from her cap — she’d cut off the end, poked a hole through it using one of the redwood’s thorns, then sharpened its pointed tip.

“...and…yeah.” Pomni tugged on her collar. “I woke up early, so I figured I might as well keep myself busy...”

Unconsciously, Ragatha parted her lips. “You did all that?” she said, “For me?”

“I mean, we’re friends now, right?” Pomni shrugged the most awkward shrug in the history of shrugs. “I wanted you to get better.”

Ragatha was enchanted — and the nagging doubt that had strangled her heart since Pomni’s chaotic debut at last loosened its vice grip. That sealed it. Of course she had been right not to trust her first impression. Of course Pomni cared. To the jester, at least, this unremarkable ragdoll was someone worth protecting. Someone she considered a friend. Someone…beautiful.

Recalling the memory did to Ragatha’s heart as sunbeams did to April blossoms. Beautiful — when had she last heard that word? Since when had she felt so wanted? So cherished and valued? Had she ever?

The raggedy doll cast a yearning look toward the jester. “I don’t know what to say. This is…” she hesitated softly, “...Thank you, Pomni.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I still need to finish your arm.” Pomni’s tone was the same she might use to describe the weather. She pointed at the limb still held tightly against Ragatha’s chest. “So, um, if you wouldn’t mind…?”

“...Oh.” Ragatha touched her face. “Oh! Of course — yeah!” she nodded, cautiously surrendering her arm. She wore an anxious smile, and wore it poorly. “Just try to be a bit more delicate this time…?”

“I dunno. Now that I know what happens when I poke you the wrong way, a small part of me wants to know what you’re gonna say next—”

“Try it. I dare you.”

Pomni chuckled, sinking her makeshift needle into Ragatha’s arm yet again. “Okay, okay. I’ll be careful.” she said. Gently, she pulled the tool through. The doll’s pliable skin tightened, and the deep gash stretching across her arm shrank in turn.

Ragatha watched Pomni work in silence. The woman, normally a twitching little bundle of nerves, was so…calm. Controlled. Confident, even. It was as if the pitiful, sobbing mess that Ragatha had soothed to sleep the previous night had transformed into an entirely different person overnight.

Once Pomni had stopped her crying, she and Ragatha had just…talked. And talked. And talked. They vented about the things that annoyed them, chatted about their common interests, and listened to each other’s infodumping about their particular hyperfixations.

In the midst of it, Ragatha’s troubles had melted away. She and Pomni, holding each other close, were lost in their own little world — but now that Ragatha was back in reality, a nagging worry snuck its way into her mind, and no matter what, it refused to give her peace:

Exactly what had Pomni been trying to say before her meltdown?

Why did Ragatha…what? Why did she what?

The question sat like a boulder in Ragatha’s stomach. She hadn’t done something wrong…had she?

Ragatha looked at Pomni. She shifted her posture, then shifted again. The question, harassing her psyche like a bothersome itch, needed an answer — and yet, Ragatha stayed silent, drowsy eyes admiring the calm smile on Pomni’s face.

Why would she say anything that might make it disappear?

🎪 🎪 🎪

Pomni squinted. Her tongue peeked out from between her lips as she carefully — very, very carefully — triple-knotted the thick thread in her hands. With one final tug, the stitches were taut, sealing shut the long gash carved into Ragatha’s arm. “...voilà! Okay, you can open your eyes now!”

Ragatha still leaned against the petrified redwood. Her hand covered her eyes, and, despite her darling companion’s command, didn’t budge an inch. “Again, Pomni, what exactly is the point of this…?”

“What do you mean? This is it — the big reveal!”

“Well, I get that…” Ragatha said, “but I’ve already seen everything. Five minutes ago.”

“But you haven’t seen the whole picture!”

Ragatha breathed in the world’s most angelically-patient breath. “Sweetheart—”

“Ugh, come on! You’re ruining the moment!” Pomni pulled Ragatha’s hand away from her face. Practically bouncing, the jester stepped back, gesturing at Ragatha as if the doll had just been revealed from underneath a sheet. “Ta-da!”

Ragatha shook her head; a relaxed smile brightened her face. She was tickled pink to see that Pomni was finally comfortable enough to show off her goofier side — especially after seeing her at such a low point last night.

Pomni’s expectant grin didn’t flinch. “So? What do you think?”

Ragatha tilted her head downward. A familiar warmth spread across her face as her eyes retreaded the sloppily-mended tears scattered across her body. Ragatha knew she could have done a much better job herself — but she didn’t care. If it were up to her, she would choose Pomni’s subpar stitching every time.

She swayed, crossing her hands over her thumping heart. “Gosh, who would’ve guessed you were so talented with a needle and thread, Pomni?” Ragatha batted her hand, “One pales to imagine what this helpless princess would have done without her dashing knight at her side~”

“It’s…It’s not that big a deal.” Pomni swallowed, hands curling around her middle. Her bubbly affect popped just like that. “Really. I-It’s the least I could do…”

“And so modest! Mercy me. Are you just getting into character, or are you always this chivalrous?”

“Um…!” Pomni, wearing an apocalyptic blush, quickly averted her gaze. She awkwardly offered her hand. “S-So, a-anyway, we should probably get going, right…?”

Pomni already looked like a tomato just offering her clammy hand — words could hardly describe the look on her face when, at last, Ragatha grabbed hold.

Sweating, Pomni wrapped her other arm around Ragatha’s back and carefully helped the injured doll to her feet. “You look like you’re in pain.” She frowned, watching Ragatha struggle to stand even with her assistance. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

“I’m a big girl. I think I can handle it.” Ragatha winked. Steadying herself against Pomni, she broke away from the jester’s support. She carefully shifted her weight onto her feet, and—

An agonized shout, paired with the sickening sound of tearing fabric, echoed beneath the canopy. Ragatha collapsed, clutching her stomach.

Pomni just barely caught her.

“Ragatha!” Pomni shrieked. Cotton spilled freely from the reopened wound slashed across the older woman’s chest — now twice as long as it had been before.

Pain was spelled in bold all across Ragatha’s face, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. “Th-Thanks…” she trembled; a loose tear traveled between the twisted creases that wound across her face. “...for catching me...”

Pomni plummeted to her knees; Ragatha was draped across her lap. “No…no, NO!” she clawed her face, each panicked breath ringing louder than the last. Her pupils quivered in a sea of bloodshot white, beholding the sum of all of her hard work: absolutely nothing.

“Why did I— Why did I think—” Cackling, she bared her teeth — sharp and pointed. “Of course! Why did I think I could do anything right?!”

“Woah, woah!” Ragatha forced herself to speak through the pain. A throaty grunt punctuated her next words, “Calm down — It’s going to be okay!”

“Okay?! How is any of this okay?! What could someone like you ever do to deserve this?!” Pomni seethed. “Is this Caine’s idea of a sick joke? Is that why that psychopath paired us together? So I could lose my mind watching you suffer?”

“Pomni! Please—”

“What now? Are we just stuck here forever?! Are we both going to die here because of me?!” Pomni’s voice cracked at the realization. “Oh, God. Oh my GOD! Please, please, please—”

“POMNI!” To the tune of another gut-wrenching tear, Ragatha sat up to grab Pomni’s trembling hand. “Listen to me! We’re not out of options, okay?!” Her thumb drew tight, soothing circles on the back of the jester’s palm. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but…why don’t you just go on by yourself? I can just stay behind and—”

“NO!”

Ragatha dropped Pomni’s hand like hot iron.

Pomni flinched — the hurt on Ragatha’s face finally snapped her out of her insanity spiral. “I…I didn’t mean to—” she shivered. Her mouth twisted into a hundred different shapes until, at last, she managed to say: “I’m sorry...”

“Just take a deep breath for me. Please.” Ragatha soothed, reaching for Pomni’s hand again. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

Pomni didn’t hesitate, sandwiching Ragatha’s trembling hand between both of hers. She nodded, filling her chest with a trio of long, shaky breaths. Her racing pulse began to lag.

“I’m not leaving you all alone.” Pomni said after a beat of silence, peering straight into Ragatha’s eyes. “I already…” she hesitated, shaking her head. “What if something happens, and I’m not there to save you?”

Ragatha couldn’t help but perk up at the look on Pomni’s face. The jester looked just like a guard dog, determined to protect her at all costs. “How about we just wait here together, then?” she said, “The others probably finished this adventure hours ago — and adventures don’t go on forever. If we take long enough, Caine will eventually just force us out and say we failed.”

“Eventually isn’t good enough! You need help now!”

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart. I wish I could tell you otherwise, but I just…” she sighed, “…can’t.”

Pomni furrowed her brow, gently turning over Ragatha’s arm. She inched her face closer to the doll’s roughly-sutured wounds, squinting as if the answer to their predicament were spelled out somewhere in the frayed silk stitches. Her voice broke the silence. “What are you stuffed with, anyway? Cotton?”

Ragatha raised an eyebrow at that. It was Pomni’s turn, apparently, to ask a question totally out of left field.

“More or less…?” Ragatha’s hand rapped on her chest, “But if you really want to know, I’m pretty sure I’ve got a heart crammed in here, too. Something that beats, at least.” she shrugged. She’d probably never know what the organ really looked like, but she'd always imagined a cartoon heart fashioned from the same patchy felt as the rest of her body.

“So you really are just a walking, talking doll…?” Pomni let out a huge breath — one she’d apparently been holding in for quite a while. “Oh, perfect! This is perfect!”

Ragatha rubbed her face — how hard had Pomni’s head hit the ground yesterday? “Perfect…?” she spoke slowly, “How do you figure?"

“Well…” Pomni’s forced laugh was painful to listen to. “D-Do you think you’d be light enough to, uh…” she glanced away, stroking her hair. “W-Would it be okay if I…”

Ragatha wondered if her plush body came with a stomach as well; she definitely felt something fluttering around in the place she’d expect one to be. She just couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Was pint-sized Pomni really about to suggest using her frail little arms to —

“Let me carry you!” Pomni exhaled sharply. Her stammer was gone, burned away by the heat of her passionate glare. “There’s no way I’m gonna let you just sit here and suffer! We’re finishing this stupid adventure and getting you fixed up — today!”

Spellbound. Ragatha was utterly, completely, hopelessly spellbound — but the sly smirk spreading across her face hid her true sentiments well. “Oh, nooo! You’re just too kind…” she closed her good eye and swooned just like a debutante. Her button spied on Pomni’s reaction — watching the new girl get all hot and bothered over her, of all people, was Ragatha’s special form of self-care. “I suppose you could, but, gosh, I wouldn't want to be a burden~”

Wearing a determined look, Pomni stood up, scooping the lightweight doll into her arms. The way Ragatha’s big, bulky limbs spilled beyond the edges of Pomni’s puny frame, even when curled up, was almost comedic — but Pomni was hardly laughing. “Burden. Give me a break. You weigh fifteen pounds soaking wet.”

Ragatha sighed, leaning her head against Pomni’s chest. “My hero…”

“I-I…” Pomni glanced away, “...Don’t make it weird. You’re not even heavy.”

“Oh, but you would still carry me even if I were stuffed with sand, wouldn’t you?”

Pomni looked down with a nervous smile; her glowing cheeks did all the talking for her. Holding her damsel a little more snugly now, she launched down the path, eyeing the distant, window-studded spires peeking through the trees.

“Woah! Pomni! Take it easy!”

🎪 🎪 🎪

The moon slept soundly in the sky, silvery light outlining the decrepit mansion’s twisted silhouette. A stark shadow stretched to the bottom of the steep hill on which the manor was perched; from all the way up there, one could see for themselves how truly endless the surrounding sea of trees really was.

“Almost there! C’mon!” Ragatha whooped, arms curled tightly around Pomni’s waist. “You’ve got this, Girlie!”

Girlie did not, in fact, have this. Pomni huffed and puffed, puny legs wobbling for their lives as they crested the hill — and the obnoxiously-long staircase that wound all the way around it.

“What, so now you’re—” Pomni paused to suck down a breath, “— now you’re cheering me on?”

“What do you expect? Nagging you to slow down wasn’t working. If you’re determined to faint from exhaustion, you might as well do it past the finish line.”

“As if. You’re just mad—” Pomni huffed, “— You’re just mad that I was right.”

“Don’t count your chickens just yet, Sweetheart. You’ve still got a few more steps to go.”

Pomni grumbled, pressing on.

A baroque fence, punctuated by gargoyle-topped columns, hugged the perimeter of the dilapidated estate — as if the manor’s remoteness weren’t already enough to keep out the riff-raff. Pomni stumbled through the iron gate, and the very second she was through, an ethereal presence slammed the egress shut with a startling clang.

“See?” Gasping for air, Pomni slumped over. Ragatha nearly rolled out of her arms and onto the manor’s overgrown lawn. “I…told you…” she gasped again, “...we would finish the adventure…today…” another gasp, “...and I meant it!”

Ragatha huffed. Again and again, she had begged Pomni to slow down, to stop and rest, to take a break, for the love of God. But Pomni, obstinate as usual, had refused to listen every time.

Shame weighed heavily on Ragatha’s soul as she stared up at Pomni’s pale, exhausted face. The poor woman looked absolutely awful — as if she were ready to faint at any second.

“Ugh! You could have hurt yourself! Then what would we have done?!” Ragatha huffed, “God. Why do you have to be so stubborn?!”

Pomni’s breathing was finally beginning to slow down. “That’s not a serious question is it?.”

“Wh-What…?” Ragatha blinked. “Of course it is!”

“Come on.” Pomni, stared straight ahead into one of the mansion’s myriad windows; the flickering candle behind the dusty glass reflected in her eyes. “After all you’ve done for me, don’t you think I owe you at least this much?”

Ragatha exhaled.

A swift tide of emotion washed away her anger, leaving behind…something else. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, or what it really was — but she knew it was a good feeling. Better than good. Much, much better.

Just like Pomni, Ragatha yearned for freedom. She dreamed of wrapping her arms around Mom and Dad just one more time, even if she could hardly remember their voices anymore. She couldn’t recall the distinctive fur patterns on her pet cat’s paws, yet she still worried herself sick about who was feeding him — if at all. By her third year of captivity, the names and faces of her two-dozen kindergarten students had all melded together, and Ragatha couldn’t help but wonder: had her little bundles of joy forgotten their teacher’s name, too? How old were they now? Ten? Eleven? Even older?

For so very long, Ragatha had believed that the only cure to her heartache was to find a way out, to return to the life she had left behind. Yet, if an exit door were to appear in front of her right this second — as the wind nipped her skin, as her entire being roared with pain, as the knowledge that another leg of this adventure still stood between herself and her soft, warm bed — she would hesitate to walk through.

She must have been going crazy. The idea of remaining in the circus forever was horrifying, yet if she were to make the choice right this instant, she just might choose to stay here in Pomni’s arms forever.

Ragatha’s heart hammered away in her chest; she just couldn’t stay upset at her knight in shining armor. “You’re right.” she spoke softly on purpose, toying with the cute little pompoms that dangled from her protector’s handsome tunic, “Maybe I’m overreacting…”

Struggling to make out the doll’s words, Pomni leaned in closer. Closer than she’d ever been before. Close enough for Ragatha to catch the mild aroma swimming in Pomni’s auburn hair. It smelled sweet. Complex. A patchwork potpourri with notes of vanilla and dried leaves and crisp morning air.

“You’re a good person, Pomni.” Ragatha lifted her neck, even though it pained her terribly. She closed her eyes and planted a dainty little peck on Pomni’s dainty little cheek.

Pomni’s breathing turned shallow. She stared at the woman in her arms, mouth slack, then snapping shut, and finally falling open again.

Ragatha, feeling herself slowly slipping out of Pomni’s loosening grip, wrapped her arms snugly around the jester’s neck. She moved her face closer, gazing up with a dreamy, expectant look — but the longer Pomni just stared down, unblinking, the more Ragatha’s smile faded. She… didn’t break the poor thing, did she?

Another well-placed smooch would snap her out of it, Ragatha thought, but even she knew that was just a sorry excuse to indulge herself further. “Goodness gracious. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” she said with a playful chuckle, placing two more kisses near the corner of Pomni’s mouth. “I’m just showing my appreciation, Sunshine. No need to overthink it.”

It happened so fast.

Knees buckled, Pomni fainted, plummeting backwards onto the manor’s lawn like a felled tree. Ragatha went right down with her, landing roughly on top of her smaller friend — and another handful of amateur stitches burst open.

Ragatha’s everything roared with horrible, splitting pain. She would have screamed, but she was too busy cackling harder than she ever had in her life.

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HUGE thank you to @spitinsideme and @blukiar, who were kind enough to illustrate a scenes from this chapter! Go check them out!

@spitinsideme: https://www.tumblr.com/spitinsideme/744502650373062656/read-a-really-good-ragapom-fanfiction?source=share

@BlukiaR: https://www.tumblr.com/blukiar/748666035752812544/long-time-no-ragapom-did-this-one-based-on

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