#slowly figuring out how to do digital art….

[romeoisalesbian]

I did a quick sketch of Aziraphale and felt contractually obligated to also sketch one Anthony J. Crowley

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

If I was in a lucid dream with a ghost, I would simply impress them with my blunt rolling skills

[goblinbeetle]

A new beginning

[gemharvest]

(ids in alt - do not repost)

Some more Mop Cycle doodles from my notes. :'D

[sysig]

Did you expect Rescuing Rusty in 2023??? (RR is @zeejax‘s ♥) (Patreon)

Trick question! Even I wasn’t expecting Rescuing Rusty, but since it was up next on my fics to vet for construction, I had to give it a reread!

Didn’t it turn out lovely 💕 There’s not a lot of sky-related imagery in RR, but I couldn’t not go with this colour - it’s an even richer rust colour IRL :D

The spine ended up being big enough that I was able to sneak in two bookmarks! One for Zoom (the black) and one for Rusty (the red)

Even though they sit separately, Rusty’s still crosses over Zoom’s hehe ♥

[0-0kappacino0-0]

🕵‍♂️Comic Doodles🔪: Expression Warm Ups

Some expression sketches while working on storyboards for the comic I'm creating with @jesuisfinni, liked them enough I'm gonna putting them here 🙌✨️✨️

[jareaul0ver]

nika fic where nika is being hella clingy with reader while they’re trying to get ready to go out with the team and they end up having a quickie before leaving. when they finally show up to the event all disheveled paige or kk notice the hickeys and reader gets all flustered n stuff

Lunch

wc: 1.2k warnings: nsfw, fingering, brief nipple play, quickie, nika fucking reader in the mirror, hickeys, language, teasing from friends pairings: nika muhl x fem!reader

You pulled together your outfit with the small details. You slid a few rings onto your fingers, bracelets onto your wrists, and clasped a necklace Nika had given you around your neck.

It was always "tradition" to celebrate a win with your girls. You'd find a bar or a club and go out, get absolutely shit faced, and wake up the next morning hungover, all to have to go to practice.

Did you have some regrets most of the time? Yes, of course, but you wouldn't let that stop you from spending time with the people that meant the most to you in your life.

You couldn't help but stare at yourself in the mirror. You were never the most cocky or confident type, but tonight you knew you looked good.

A few clicks of your phone camera later, you watched Nika approach you from behind. She slinked her arms around your waist and rested her chin on your shoulder.

"Hi, baby." She mumbled. You watched her eyes take in your figure through the mirror, and she took her bottom lip between her teeth. "You look.. so good."

A light blush colored your face. You would never get used to the endless complements from Nika, no matter how long you'd be together.

Your hands rested over hers. "Thanks, babe." You looked over at her and kissed her cheek. You made sure to snap another picture, capturing the sweet moment with your girlfriend.

She hummed in response and moved her hands to rest on your hips. Nika pressed a light kiss to your neck. "Really, I don't know if I'll be able to keep my hands to myself tonight."

You rolled your eyes playfully and shook your head. "Well, it'll have to wait until we get back, we don't wanna be late." You went to pull away from her but her grip on you was strong. "Baby, seriously we-"

She gently bit down on your shoulder, quickly soothing it with her tongue. A small gasp fell from your lips at the sudden action. "I think we still have a few minutes before we have to leave, no?" She kissed up your shoulder and neck, her lips landing on your jawline.

A shiver ran through your body and you mindlessly melted against her. She always knew how to get you going, even in the most inopportune times.

"But-" you sighed when you felt her hand unbutton your jeans. Her eyes met yours in the mirror, and she silently asked for permission. If you really didn't want this right now, she would never make you do it, even if you looked like a work of art to her.

With the odds in her favor, you nodded slightly with parted lips. She quickly unzipped your pants and slipped her hand past the waistband of both your jeans and panties.

She groaned softly in your ear as she slid her fingers through your slick folds. "Fuck, you're so wet for me already? Haven't even done anything yet." Her middle and ring fingers found your clit and she rubbed small circles on it.

Your head fell back to lean against her shoulder, but you kept your eyes on hers in the mirror. She refused to look away, and so did you.

The two of you have had incredibly hot sex before. Ranging anywhere from rough after suffering a loss of a game, to gentle if one of you needed relaxing, and sure you've had incredibly sensual and intimate moments together, but this was on a whole other level.

Without warning she slipped her fingers into you and you whined. "Fuck." She slowly pumped her digits in and out of your soaked cunt. She latched her lips onto your neck and sucked hard for a second.

Her lips came away and a string of saliva left them connected to your skin for a second. "So pretty like this, baby. You think you look pretty? Hm?"

You nodded a little frantically as she quickened her pace. "Mhm. I- I look pretty- fuck!" She curled her fingers, hitting your g-spot perfectly.

Nika's other hand slinked up your shirt and a small smirk formed on her face. "No bra?" She pinched a nipple between her fingers and your body arched away from her.

You screwed your eyes shut, and immediately felt her stop her movements. Your eyes shot open, but before you could speak, she did. "Eyes on me and I'll make you cum, pretty."

Your lips parted and you took a deep breath. "Okay. Please, Nika, I need you."

She couldn't resist. Not when you sounded so desperate for her touch. She started curling her fingers in you quickly and hard. Her hand cupped your breast and she leaned back down, biting your shoulder.

"Feel good?" She mumbled before attaching her lips to your skin again.

"Mm, 's good, Nika." Your entire body weight was practically on her at this point. Your knees were weak, and you quickly felt the bubble in your stomach building up.

Her hand dropped to your stomach, and she lightly pressed down on it, letting you feel the goodness of her fingers inside of you even easier.

You moaned loudly and Nika responded with a huff. She quickened the pace of her fingers and you felt yourself getting incredibly close to finishing.

"Fuck, baby, I'm getting close- oh!" She dropped her hand even further and slipped it beneath her other to rub circles against your clit.

She sucked harshly on your neck and shoulder, littering them with small bites and hickeys you undeniably knew you'd get in trouble for.

That was the last of your worries though, as your body arched away from hers, the band finally snapping in your stomach. "Fuck!" You cried and screwed your eyes shut as you rode out your climax.

She slowed her pace before eventually pulling her fingers out of you, soaked with your juices. Nika brought them up to your mouth and you willingly cleaned her off.

"You did so good, babe." She mumbled as she pressed gentle kisses against your skin.

Everyone obviously knew that you and Nika had gotten up to some activities before you came. The crazed amount of marks and the fucked out look on your face easily gave it away.

Most of the team respected the two of you enough to not say anything, except for Paige. She never knew how to keep her mouth shut.

"Yo, you look like a vacuum cleaner got stuck to you." She raised her eyebrows at you, and then Nika who was standing behind you, in the same position that she had fucked you in before leaving.

Your face immediately turned red and a few of your teammates snickered at Paige's comment. "Shut your damn mouth, Bueckers."

Nika kissed your cheek softly before looking at Paige. "At least she's getting some, P, can't say the same about you." She clapped back.

A few "ooh's" came from the close knit circle of friends and Paige sulked away to the bar to get another drink.

You turned and captured Nika's lips in a quick kiss. "Mm, I love you, baby, but God you make me look like I'm a pornstar for a living sometimes."

She laughed softly. "Told you I wouldn't be able to help myself."

[shepherds-of-haven]

HIIIIII LENA !!! As you may already know due to my nonstop blabbering I'm very very much in love with the world of Blest 🥹 and I was wondering... do you see yourself making/compiling some sort of codex/art book in the future? Like, a book that has all the organized lore about Blest, maybe with the art you've already commissioned? I WOULD JUMP ON IT IMMEDIATELYYY, EVEN IF IT'S A KICKSTARTER ITEM OR COLLECTOR'S ITEM — just letting you know teeheeheehee

OH AND if a physical published book is too difficult, then a digital printable copy thing would also be AMAZING 🌈🌈🌈 I'd immediately get that printed and hard bound !!!

(lowkey if the answer is even the tiniest yes I WILL start slowly saving 😭 JUST !! A REAL LIVE SHOH CODEX !! RAAAAAAAAH )

Oh, but I hope this doesn't bother you 🥹 the thought just came to me and wouldn't leave me alone! Please don't feel like you need to make one or anything!

Hi snow!! 💖💖 Thanks so much for your lovely message, as always! As a matter of fact, I have been slowly putting together a digital art book/lore bible for Shepherds in my (extremely sparse) free time over the last two years or so: it's been extremely slow going, but it's basically got everything you're imagining, including concept art, official game art, behind-the-scenes tidbits and easter eggs, guides and walkthroughs, codex entries from Patreon, and more! A lot of it is more of my personal rambling and reasons behind certain design decisions or showing the progression of, say, the game's logo over the years, or the differences between the novels and the game, or my (or an artist's) thought process behind this or that, but there is a codex section that will have some organized lore as well!

It may not have all the organized lore about Blest, since I'll leave that for the in-game codex, but it will have some pages on stuff like religion, factions, races, magic, days of the week, currency, and things like that, along with the stuff we cover on Patreon like animals, food, maps, calendars, and etc.! :') I'm extremely skeptical about my own visual design skills when it comes to putting this together LOL but I've been doing my best! 💪 I was wondering if I should keep it a secret until closer to the game's official release, but your ask was so nice that I couldn't resist sharing!

This will be a digital artbook for now, bundled with the 'ultimate' edition of the game (which will also include the game's original soundtrack), since I don't think I have the time or bandwidth to figure out how mass printing and distributing physical books would work: that takes a lot of research both in which publisher and storefront is the best to use, how to keep costs down for the consumer, and also figuring out stuff like margins and bleed, which aren't as big of a deal for a digital PDF!

But I hope that answers your question! :D Thank you so much for your encouragement and praise as always, and I hope you're doing very well! 💖

[vmpiires]

heyy can u do a dom choso and sub reader with brat taming and spanking (i sent rhe same request but i worded it wrong)

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

„𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐄”

: ̗̀➛ 18+ CONTENT!!!

: ̗̀➛ afab!reader, some sexxxxx, brat taming, praising, some degrading, spanking(?), dom!choso, sub!reader. not proofread so i apologize in advance for any mistakes if they’re made.

: ̗̀➛ art creds by;; currently unknown. dividers are not mine, if you own these, you may claim them in comments.

: ̗̀➛ WORD COUNT;; 1.17K

* dark mode recommended

* do not copy this plot. i’m perfectly fine with inspirations but give creds. if this plot his stolen in any way, the post will be taken down and you will be blocked.

𝐃𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ✉️🖇️;; yurrr. i feel like ya caught on to the fact that i really like writing for choso…okay but that’s obvious. he just so fine. i also don’t know how good imma do this but i’ll figure sum out. ANYWAY REBLOG TO SUPPORT MEEEE AND IF YOU WANT MORE :D

did you ever learn? you had choso treating you like you’re his daughter because you didn’t know how to behave yourself. he’d be lying if he said that it didn’t piss him off a little.

you were ignoring choso because he wouldn’t buy you the dress that you wanted. you were at that mall, gripping onto his clothes, begging and pleading for this dress but choso just had a stale face and he’d tell you no as calmly as he possibly could. but you could hear the slight annoyance behind his relaxed tone.

it’s been a few days and the silent treatment was driving him insane. not only that. it was pissing him off. the second you came through the door of that apartment, he’d grab you and pin you against the wall and smash his lips onto yours, kissing you with pure passion behind it but the aggression was kicking within him. after that, he moved his mouth up to your ear.

“get your ass to the bed….now.” he commanded before he let go of you. “and you better be ready when i get in there…you got thirty seconds.”

you were confused at first but you didn’t want to piss choso off any more than he seemed to be. you headed into his room and got on the bed, removing your clothes as you did.

the bedroom door opened and there stood choso with that usual bored expression that had a hint of lust and mischief behind them. he’d take his shirt off and climb on top of you, his bare chest making contact with yours. he kissed and sucked on your neck, making marks that were sure to turn purple when he was done with you.

“you piss me off so fucking bad,” he said in your ear, “but i can get you in order. just be a good girl and listen to what i tell you to do.”

choso slapped your thighs before he gripped onto them tightly, forcing your legs apart. his fingers moved slowly from your waist down to your soaked cunt. the male smirked before tracing your entrance. he glanced at you.

“i wanna make you feel good but i don’t know…” he paused, “i don’t think you deserve it. maybe i should make you beg first.”

“what do you-” you started but choso’s hand quickly covered your mouth. he glared at you.

“did i say you could speak? you speak when i say you can.” the violet eyed male boomed. with his other hand, he pressed his digits into your entrance after licking his fingers as if you weren’t wet enough already.

he’d pump his fingers in and out of you as he listened to your muffled moans underneath his hand. he was looking you in your eyes as he fucked you with his fingers. choso moved his hand off of your mouth. just when you believed you could moan out loud without choso getting in your way, he’d smash his lips onto yours again, consuming your moans.

his tongue pushed through your lips and danced around yours. as he kissed you, you could feel his fingers curling up inside you, finding your sweet spot. you immediately crumbled underneath him. you tried to grab onto his hand and push him away but he slapped your hand away and continued to finger you, being more aggressive now that you tried to stop him.

you were pissing him off even more but he was enjoying hearing you pleas for him to stop or slow down. he would pin your wrist down to the bed over your head and just when you were about to have your release, he removed his fingers from you.

“don’t think i’m done because i took my fingers out,” choso looked at you, sticking his fingers in your mouth to make you taste your own fluids. he wouldn’t move his hand until you licked him clean. as he was doing this, you genuinely thought he was torturing you…but you liked it and you weren’t going to stop him from what he was doing to you.

again, choso pushed your legs apart a little more, feeling satisfied after he prepped you. he wanted to hear you drown in pleasure now. he would pull down his boxers, revealing his hardened member. he didn’t waste any time. choso forced his length into you. you yelped as you felt everything hit you all at once.

choso’s groaned as he sank down into you, biting his lip. “take all of me. you were doing so good. don’t get scared now.”

his strokes were slow at first, trying to ease you into it and trying to get you used to being stretched out by him. your moans and you folding underneath him made him wanna go faster, though. so he did. choso was slamming into you, his pelvis making direct contact with yours.

“now, i told you about acting up but you don’t listen to me,” choso rasped, his eyes narrowing down at you. “i’m starting to think you like being punished all the time. you’re a dirty little girl, you know that? you need to be taught some respect.”

his words made your heart drop. his voice was just so soothing and the fact that he was degrading you…it excited you a bit more. he was probably right about you enjoying this a bit more than you should.

your moans progressively got louder. you were starting to think if his neighbors could hear any of this. slowly, your eyes began wandering around the room. choso didn’t like that, though. he put his free hand under your chin and forced you to look at him. you could feel him squeezing your cheeks a bit but not enough for it to hurt.

“don’t look over there, look at me. i want you to look me in my eyes when i’m fucking you.”

of course, you wanted to listen to him before he made your entire body sore but it was harder than you thought. your eyes began to get lazy and they rolled back into your head. tears formed into your eyes. you never thought someone as distant and quiet as him could be so aggressive in his own way.

“choso,” you moan softly, putting your arms around him and kissing him. he moaned in your mouth as his hips continued to move back and forth with each stroke. he loved the feeling of being milked by you. he wished he could make this last forever…but he was here to teach you a lesson. he wiped the tears from your eyes.

“don’t cry. this is punishment—fuck…” choso groaned as he reached his climax at the same time as you did. the two of you were panting, trying to catch your breaths. he’d pull out of you and lie down beside you, putting kisses on your neck and shoulder then rested his head onto the pillow beside you.

“i hope you learned your lesson. don’t make me repeat myself.” choso rubbed his tired eyes. “sleep well, princess.”

𝐄𝐍𝐃.

⋆｡࿇ ·࣭࣪̇˖ 𖦹°༅༚

[gravitycavity]

Sunshine (Pomni x Ragatha) Chapter 5 - And Fresh-Fallen Rain

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

Cover art by @blukiar

It was only a matter of time before Pomni blinked herself awake. 

Wave after wave of pulsing pain, synchronized with the beat of her heart, relentlessly pounded the back of her skull. A landscape of crimson curls, wild weeds, and shimmering stars expanded, contracted, and twisted before her half-lidded eyes. The disorienting sight was more than enough to make her stomach do flips — and fail to stick the landing every single time.

But even so, it was hard to feel anything but content. 

The wind was fierce and frigid, but Pomni didn’t know it. She didn’t feel the bitter cold, even as gale after freezing gale slashed her skin like the crack of a whip. All the pain in the world wouldn’t have phased her, not as long as the wind’s touch highlighted the slightly-wet spots where Ragatha’s lips had so lovingly grazed her face. 

Stalks of overgrown grass wavered as a brisk squall flew across the yard; a palette of fallen leaves, which just so happened to be sleeping in its path, was cast into the sky. Red, yellow, orange, and brown — the cozy colors swished and swirled through the air, then drifted back to their resting spot below the jungle-like lawn. 

It only took a moment for the breeze to return. Coming from the other direction now, it passed through Ragatha’s red yarn hair before pummeling Pomni’s face. All at once, the saccharine aroma of the ragdoll’s locks — strawberries and soil and fresh-fallen rain — introduced itself.  

And it was heavenly. 

Pomni’s eyelids drooped further, and a dumb, wobbly smile blossomed on her face. As her tiny arms wrapped around Ragatha’s plush, guffawing belly, she didn’t worry about how embarrassed she was to have fainted, or what Ragatha’s little kisses had meant, or why someone like her even deserved to be treated with such affection. Those pesky doubts were for future Pomni to agonize over; for now, they crumbled to pieces with each precious peak of Ragatha’s laughter.

“Oh! There she is!” Ragatha flinched as Pomni’s arms enfolded her. “I was starting to worry I up and killed you…”

“Nope! Still kicking.” Pomni chirped, “But just barely…” 

Slowly, Ragatha’s giggles began to peter out, but their spirit still tickled every word she spoke. “Goodness me — aren’t you in a good mood! Your head didn’t hit the ground too hard, did it?”

Pomni waffled. She decided not to tell Ragatha about the big lump on the back of her head — the redhead would just worry herself sick, after all. “...I’m fine. Just a little bit dizzy.”

“I really am sorry.” Ragatha placed her soft hands atop Pomni’s, idly dragging her digits across the jester’s worn leather gloves. “I should have warned you before I…” she paused. “Well, y’know…”

Pomni could feel the heat rising in Ragatha’s hands. She waited patiently for her to finish, but as the silence dragged on, it became increasingly clear that she’d have to be the one to break it. 

“No, it’s okay! Really! I just, um, wasn’t expecting…that. And if you think about it, it was actually my fault. I wouldn’t have fainted if I had just listened—”

“No, no! It was sweet! I don’t know. I just figured…” Ragatha said, a nervous tilt to her tone, “...since you were having so much fun getting into your character, I ought to return the favor.” Ragatha's hands were twitching now, “And…”

Somewhere nearby, a ladybug crested a wobbling blade of grass, flitted its wings, then buzzed away to who-knows-where. Another brisk gust wandered through the dilapidated yard, sending an armada of dandelion seeds sailing swiftly through the air.

“And…?” Again, Pomni was the one to shatter the silence. 

“Oh, nevermind.” Ragatha forced out a laugh. Pomni swore she could hear the woman’s blush. “I think I’ve just got an overactive imagination.”

Another pause. That made three. 

Pomni’s heart was beating a mile a minute. Unsure if this was even real, she slipped her hand out from beneath Ragatha’s, eager to simply trace the woman’s strong, soft frame…

… but her finger didn’t get very far before arriving at the gaping hole slashed across the ragdoll’s abdomen. 

Guilt flattened Pomni’s heart like a speeding train. Holding Ragatha close, the jester sat up in a snap, examining her friend’s injuries with a level of determination that could only be described as ‘obsessive’. 

Talk about a mood-killer — it was as if Pomni had never even bothered to stitch Ragatha up at all. Stuffing leaked out of the ragdoll here, there, everywhere. Nearly all of Pomni’s makeshift threads, nowhere close to well-crafted, were already failing — if they weren’t coming loose, the strings themselves were coming apart. 

Pomni clenched her teeth. Her brow descended, and her lips trembled fiercely. 

“Hey, hey! Don’t cry! You don’t have to worry about me.” Tenderly, Ragatha pushed herself against Pomni's little frame, “As long as you’re with me, I’ll be okay, Sweetheart.”

“I’m not sad.” A stormy look came to Pomni’s face. “I’m angry.”

“...Angry?”

“Stupid #$&%ing tree monster. Stupid #$&%ing Caine!” Pomni bared her teeth, “Stupid #$&%ing circus!”

“H-Hey, now! Take a breath, okay? Let’s not get ourselves worked up—”

“No! I’m pissed!” In a snap, Pomni leapt to her feet, firmly holding Ragatha in her arms. “I’m not gonna let you get hurt anymore,” she said, making a beeline toward the haunted mansion, “Not a single scratch, from now until we escape this horrible circus together — I promise!”

Ragatha’s eyes were sparkling, though Pomni was too focused on climbing the front porch’s creaky staircase to notice. “Pomni, Y-You don’t have to do all that…!”

“Too bad. I want to.”

“O-Oh…” Ragatha’s breath felt warm against Pomni’s chest. “I see…”

Without another word. Pomni summited the porch stairs, where a pair of double-doors patiently awaited her arrival. She eyed the doorbell, but her hands were full — so she opted for three mighty kicks at the doors’ expense instead. “Hello? Anyone home?” 

Pomni and Ragatha waited for an answer. And then waited some more. Pomni’s shrill voice echoed at least a dozen times in the stiff silence. 

“Hellooo!?” Pomni’s ill-fitting boot pounded the door thrice more. “We don’t have all day, you know! Open up!”

“Pomni! It’s been five seconds!” Ragatha chided, “Don’t be rude!”

“Rude? What am I doing — interrupting supper time? They’re NPCs.”

“I know that! But still. It just feels so wrong…”

A relaxed smile found its way to Pomni’s face — at this point, the jester wouldn’t have been surprised if Ragatha were hiding a pair of angel wings underneath that pretty dress of hers. “Let me guess. You’re the type of person who feels guilty about not giving equal attention to all of your stuffed animals, aren’t you?”

“I—” Ragatha sputtered, glancing off. “N-No! I’m thirty years old! What makes you think I own stuffed animals?”

Pomni raised an eyebrow.  

Ragatha had been caught red-handed, and she knew it. It was incredible how quickly her face flushed completely pink. “Okay, first of all, how dare you attack me like this—”

Before Ragatha could even finish her tongue-in-cheek response, both girls simply lost it. Their uncontrolled, side-splitting laughter — one giggling, one cackling like a witch — spun together into a harmonious duet, and for a fleeting moment, both captives felt like they were home. 

“Alright, alright.” Ragatha wiped at her eyes. “Enough joking around. How about I just ring the doorbell for you, Sweetheart?”

“Huh?! No way! You have to stay still or you’re going to rip yourself! Look, I’ll just set you down—”

“On the dirty porch? Are you out of your mind?” Ragatha reached for the ornate button beside the door. 

“Hey! What are you doing?! I just told you—”

“Oops!” Ragatha poked the button, then quickly fell back into Pomni’s arms like a helpless princess. “Sorry, dear. Didn’t hear you!”

Pomni grumbled, and the doorbell replied with its signature chime. Windswept shutters battered cracked windows as Pomni and Ragatha stood there, waiting for something, anything, to happen.

Pomni’s patience was in short supply. She stamped her foot, and the old porch whined. “Seriously?”

“Maybe the entrance is around the back? My old apartment building was like that.” Ragatha said. “Ordering anything by mail was just the worst. It’s like — I get that the mail carriers had to stick to a tight schedule, but they would never read the signs. Oh, and trick-or-treat was a nightmare every Halloween—”

Ragatha’s riveting tale was cut short as, at last, the double-doors swung open at the sound of the magic words — trick-or-treat.

Ragatha’s mouth fell open. Pomni wrinkled her brow. Both women studied the other’s outfit in stunned silence — and suddenly, Caine’s choice of costumes didn’t seem quite so arbitrary. 

“Ohhh…” They nodded in sync. “Right…”

Cautiously, Pomni poked her head through the door frame. If the scent of stale tobacco pouncing upon her senses was any indication, the surprises weren’t over yet. 

“It’s…” Pomni breathed, “...an elevator…?”

“Ooh, and an old-fashioned one, too!” Ragatha tapped her fingers together, excitedly peering inside. 

The interior was nothing if not visually striking. Each of its four walls, carved from cherrywood, hosted polished panels gilded with gold. Winding bands of white and black and gold and blue danced a tango across the smoke-stained carpet. An expensive-looking chair sat in the corner; an equally-elegant end table, complete with a flickering lamp, complimentary cigars, and a half-filled ashtray, sat to the left. 

“Gosh, and just look at all these little aesthetic flourishes!” Ragatha gushed. “Folks back then really put effort into making every little thing look beautiful. You know what I mean?”

“Uh-huh. S-Sure…”

“Sometimes I wish that attitude would make a comeback. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just an old soul…” 

Pomni blinked, regarding the elevator’s interior through empty pupils. She would have instinctively eyed the exit had she not already been standing in the middle of it. 

The jester couldn’t recall something as simple as her own name — but, by some cruel twist of fate, everything else about the life she’d had stolen from her remained crystal clear in her head: including her swarming, overcrowded menagerie of obsessive anxieties.

Back home, Pomni’s teeny-tiny cubicle — something she couldn’t believe she actually missed now — was located on one the higher floors of her employer’s drab highrise. Entering the lobby, a lengthy carpet led the eye to a conveniently-placed pair of lifts. Their metal doors, constantly opening and closing as employees funneled in and out, was a sure sign that another busy day of work lay ahead.

Pomni was quite familiar with the contraptions — which was reason enough for the tie-wearing twenty-something, armed with her trusty backpack, to begin each morning with a hard left towards the musty concrete stairwell instead. By the time she’d reach her floor, the young accountant would be out-of-breath, weak in the knees, and far sweatier than any sane person would ever like to be. In her book, though, it was worth the trouble. She would do anything in her power to avoid the sensory torture that was riding in one of those cramped sardine cans. 

Elevators were awful. Just awful. Women wearing far too aggressive perfume; men who had forgotten to wear any deodorant at all. Extroverted co-workers trying to make small talk; creepy strangers trying to hit on her. Idiots with no concept of personal space; morons with no respect for the fire marshall’s occupancy limit clearly posted on the wall in big, bold letters. 

But being stuck inside of a tiny box with eight other people was a dream compared to the experience of riding alone — where her mind could wander, and the simmering fear of some catastrophic malfunction could consume her thoughts. What if the power went out? What if she got stuck? What if she were trapped inside and ran out of oxygen? What if the cables snapped, and the final moments of her life would be her screaming in horror as the car was sent plummeting down the shaft?

Nope. Pomni didn’t like elevators. Not one bit. Sensitive to Ragatha’s feelings, however, the young woman tried her hardest to force a smile onto her face. “Wow. C-Classy…” 

For a moment, Ragatha didn’t even react. “...You’re nervous.” she tilted her head in concern, “What’s the matter, Sweetheart?”

“Nothing! Nothing’s the matter!” Pomni lied, and rather poorly, at that. “I was just…” she floundered, “...admiring the craftsmanship! Gee, don’t you wish they made stuff like this nowadays?”

“...Yeah. I just said that.”

“Right…! S-So…! Anyway…!”

Pomni closed her eyes, ducking her face behind Ragatha’s shoulders. Oh, come on! What are you waiting for? Just go! It’s just an elevator! You’ve had your whole life to be a coward — now’s the time to be brave. For her! You can do that, can’t you!?

The shaking jester steeled herself. The sole of her oversized boot departed from the sturdy wooden porch, swung forward, flirted with the elevator’s artsy carpet, pressed down… 

…and the entire car shifted with an ear-splitting creak. 

Pomni’s whole body seized up — she couldn’t stumble back onto the porch fast enough. Nope. Nope. Abso-#@%$ing-lutely not.

“Pomni! You are nervous!” Ragatha rubbed at her chest, “Oh, no — Ugh! I’m sorry! Are you afraid of elevators?”

Pomni squirmed in place. Her gut commanded her to keep up her defenses — to deny, deny, deny, because showing the slightest inkling of vulnerability had been punished so severely in the past. Despite all of her strongest instincts, however, the soft look of concern on Ragatha’s face hit her like a magic spell.

“Um,” Pomni’s shoulders slumped, “Maybe a teensy-tiny bit...”

“Oh, Sweetheart…” Ragatha drew closer, “Forget it, then. Why don’t we try looking for another way in?”

“N-No! It’s fine! This way is the fastest!”

“But I want you to be comfortable, too…”

“You’re worried about me?!”

Ragatha twisted her lips. “Is that bad…?”

“Yes!”

“O-Oh…”

“God, Ragatha — can’t you just be selfish for once in your freaking life!?” Pomni’s voice was sharpened to a fine tip. “I mean…look at yourself! You’re falling apart at the seams — literally!”

“Pomni! Don’t be ridiculous!”

“Watch me!” Pomni squished Ragatha against her chest before the ragdoll could even think to protest. Surging with adrenaline, she clenched her jaw, made peace with her god, and barreled forward. 

The ancient elevator quaked beneath her feet; each time it stirred, her body seized, preparing itself for the whole contraption to plummet into the endless abyss below. Pomni quailed at the sound of squeaking metal, cowered at the buzz of hydraulics, and pined after the whistling wind outside the car — a beacon of safety and stable footing. 

She shivered, choking on every haggard breath that just wasn’t enough — but somehow, the slight weight in her arms gave her the courage to open her eyes and face the music. 

“I…” Pomni stood in the center of the elevator. She looked down at a begrudgingly-happy Ragatha, each stammered word framed by bouts of breathless laughter, “...I did it!” 

Ragatha beamed, practically singing. “You did!” 

“Yes, indeed!” A series of polite claps sounded from behind. “Jolly good show, darling!”

Pomni just couldn’t stop smiling. “It was, wasn’t it?” she agreed. Sticking out her chest, the young woman pulled in a deep breath, and then…

…Wait a minute! Pomni spun around on a dime. Who said that!?

A ghostly figure, surrounded by an otherworldly aura, sat with her legs crossed in the elevator’s cushioned chair. Her outfit, equally as old-fashioned as her surroundings, evoked all the stylings of a suffragette. Her wide-brimmed hat cast a spooky shadow over her face. Her ruffled shirt was tucked neatly into a long, floral-print skirt. A silk sash spanned the length of her chest, bearing a progressive slogan spelled out in a simple typeface.  

An eerie smile crawled across the phantom’s ashen face. Slowly, she looked up from the book in her lap, and the lamp’s struggling flame gasped its final breath, “Going up?”

Pomni SHRIEKED. 

“Pleased to make your acquaintance.” the ghost marked her place with a bookmark, closed her tome, and sharply raised her other hand, “Dining room. Fifth floor.”

With a light ‘ding’, the elevator’s sole exit slammed shut, casting the car in total darkness. The elevator rumbled as if caught in an earthquake, rusted gears whirring and whining all the way. 

“Uh…” Ragatha’s face fell. She looked up at Pomni, who was taking things exactly as well as you would expect. 

“WHAT?! HEY! NONONO! WHAT’S GOING ON?!”

“There’s the handrail, darling.” the ghost pointed with a wink, “You might want to make use of it sooner rather than later.”

“NONONO! LET ME OUT!” Pomni pounded her foot against the door, “WAITWAITWAITWAITWAIT—”

The ghost shrugged. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Suddenly, the elevator shot into the air at gravity-defying speeds, thrusting Pomni and Ragatha roughly into the floor — and pinning them there for the remainder of their abrupt ascent. 

🎪  🎪  🎪 

The haunted lift halted the same way it had started.

Painfully. 

The doors slid open with an innocent chime, and the girls shivered in sync as the ghost’s ethereal high-heels passed straight through them. 

“Right this way, ladies.” the phantom twirled her fingers. A magical aura surrounded Pomni and Ragatha, dragging their aching forms behind the ghost as she stepped gingerly out of the car. 

A cozy dining room awaited beyond the threshold. Autumn-toned streamers stretched across the ceiling. A perimeter of potatoes, turnips, and radishes, strung up on strings and carved with grotesque faces, was proudly displayed on each wall. A large banner pinned to the wall read ‘ALLHALLOWTIDE GREETINGS’, just in case the apple-bobbing stations weren’t sufficiently on-the-nose.

A long, wooden table was situated in the exact center of the room, dominating the space. The ghostly woman sat herself at its head, and, with a flick of her finger, sat her dazed guests across from each other. 

“Well, well, well!” The ghostly specter fanned her face with her weighty novel. “Do my eyes deceive me, or has another troupe of wayward rabble-rousers dared to trespass upon the esteemed estate of—”

“Oh, God!” Pomni, green in the face, scrambled to slap her hands over her mouth. “Oh, holy #$@%—” She swiped the closest open receptacle she could find — a gorgeous Edwardian vase — and held her mouth against the opening. Her whole frame crumpled forward as her body quite ungracefully emptied itself out.

“P-Pomni!” Ragatha’s fingers grazed the side of her face. “Oh my goodness — are you alright?!”

The jester groaned. Plopping the vase back onto the table, she weakly nodded, trembling hands hugging her ailing stomach. “I’ll be fine. J-Just…give me a second…” she faceplanted into the large heap of candy corn piled on her plate. “This happens more often than you’d think…”

Ragatha pouted, watching Pomni’s face sink deeper into candy corn mountain. Individual pieces slid off of the young woman’s plate and scattered across the table. “Remember your breathing, okay, Sweetheart?”

Pomni flashed a flaccid thumbs-up.

“My word! What is the meaning of this?!” The ghostly apparition clenched her fists, lips curled back in disgust. “Perhaps if your detestable generation spent less time listening to that boorish ‘jazz’ music — and I’m being generous calling it music at all — you’d have room in those cramped skulls  to remember proper etiquette!”

In a flash, she tore open her book —  the cover read, ‘THE LADY’S BOOK OF COMMON ETIQUETTE & ASSORTED DEMONIC SPELLS — 1860 EDITION’ in embossed, glossy lettering.

The ghost loudly cleared her throat. She pointed to the text with a manicured fingernail,  “Immediately upon entering the parlor, find your hostess, and speak to her first. It is very rude to stop to chat with other guests before greeting the lady of the house.”

Ragatha blushed, shrinking in her seat like a scolded child. “Ma’am...”

“Hmph. As appalling as your conduct is, I suppose you aren’t completely hopeless. It’s worlds better, at least, than that infantile rabbitoid or that foul-mouthed modern-art abomination.” The haughty ghost shook her head. “But I digress — what business do you mortal wretches have in the decrepit domain of I, the great Margarethe MacGuffin?”

A long, drawn-out pause ensued — longer than usual. “Um…” Ragatha rapped on her chin, “…Who?”

“Who? What do you mean ‘who’?”

“Come to think of it, I’ve completely forgotten what we’re even supposed to be doing here. Pomni…?”

Groggily, Pomni lifted her head; more than a few candy corns came along, sticking stubbornly to her cheeks, chin, and forehead. “Brooch,” she sighed. A single morsel tumbled off her face, “We’re looking for the—”  

“Brooch, you say?!” Margarethe flinched at the word like a trained dog hearing its name. Her sour mood shifted in an instant. “You couldn’t possibly mean…” she drew closer, “...that brooch, could you? The legendary MacGuffin family heirloom? The priceless treasure forged in the highlands beyond Hadrian’s Wall, passed down from generation to generation—”

“Uh-huh! Sounds about right!” Pomni abruptly pushed her chair out, sending an avalanche of candy treats pittering and pattering across the hardwood floor. She wasted no time racing to Ragatha’s side — and gently, so gently, hooking her arm around the dolly’s. “So where do we go? What do we do? How do we leave!?” 

“I…” Margarethe balked. “Sit back down this instant, young lady!”

“Uh, hello?! Do you not see that my friend is practically in pieces, here? We don’t need your stupid theatrics — none of this is even real, anyway — just spit it out so we can go back to the tent and get her fixed!”

Margarethe’s posture was as sharp as a tack. “For shame! Never in my sixty-seven years have I witnessed such uncharismatic, uncouth, unbecoming behavior from a young bachelorette. Simply appalling —  you’ll never find a husband with that attitude.”

“Aw, really? You mean it?”

“I beg your pardon?!”

“HAHAHA!” Ragatha slapped the table, “G-Golly, Ms. MacGuffin! This glassware is just to die for! Wherever did you procure such a stunning collection?”

Margarethe hesitated — but then curtsied in appreciation. “Well! I’m glad you noticed. They’re just wonderful, aren’t they?” she proudly mused, “The help says they’re made of this newfangled, petroleum-based material that’s cheaper than glass and impervious to breakage. Bakelite, I believe it’s called — the material of a thousand uses!”

Pomni flicked the nearest goblet. She whispered in Ragatha’s ear: “I think they’re plastic.”

“Indeed — we are truly blessed to be reaping the plentiful fruits of the industrial age. Now, where was I…?” Margarethe tapped her bottom lip, “Ah, yes!”

Margarethe launched herself in the air with a flamboyant pirouette. “To make a long story short, the MacGuffin clan is, sadly, no more — our treasured brooch is the only artifact that remains of our storied legacy. My life is long behind me, but alas, as the matriarch of my kin, I cannot pass on into the next life until I find a soul brave enough to carry on the great MacGuffin legacy. Someone like…you two!”

Pomni and Ragatha looked at each other. “Us? You’re sure?”

“Certainly! But a MacGuffin knows no weakness.” Margarethe continued, “In order to secure my brooch, and carry on my proud family name, you must venture through my audacious abode…and confront your greatest fear!”

“Greatest fear…?” Pomni stammered. 

Margarethe flexed. “Then, and only then, can you consider yourself a true MacGuffin!”

“G-G-Greatest…” Pomni repeated, almost choking on her words, “...f-fear…?” 

“Why, of course, darling! You didn’t expect this to be a walk in the park, did you? It wouldn’t be much of an adventure without a little bit of challenge!”

Pomni stared straight ahead — but her pin-sized pupils didn’t perceive a single thing. 

Greatest fear.

The room shrank. 

Greatest fear. Greatest fear? What in the world was that supposed to mean!? Pomni didn’t have a greatest fear — as far as she knew, the obsessive thoughts that constantly terrorized her mind did so with total parity. How was she supposed to know which one had cost her the most sleep over the years?

Car crashes, plane wrecks, train derailments, high-speed transportation in general, being bitten by a wild animal and dying of rabies, stepping on a rusty nail and dying of tetanus, contracting some other horrible disease after forgetting to wash her hands and dying from that, being stalked by weird men, being assaulted by weird men, being kidnapped and murdered by weird men, weird men in general, disappointing her friends, disappointing her parents, disappointing her boss, people in general, her boss in general, being late to work, performing poorly at work, being fired from work…

Pomni’s eyes bulged. 

Work — oh, no. Work. WORK. 

Pomni’s mind had already overloaded itself merely accepting the notion that she was trapped forever in this weird, obscure computer game — so overloaded, in fact, that the horrific question of how the world was proceeding without her hadn’t even occurred to her.

Until now. 

How long had she been gone? One week? Two? Even more? Her blood ran cold at the realization — even if she were to escape the circus this very instant, there was no way she hadn’t already been fired, no way her cubicle wasn’t already cleaned out to make way for the next poor sap to apply to that god-forsaken office. 

Oh, no. No, no, no, no. That couldn’t happen. What was she going to do? Beg for her old job back? Apply for a new one? How the hell was she supposed to do that when her degree sucked, her resume could fit on a sticky note, and all her single reference could forward a potential employer was years and years of middling performance reviews?

Even if her boss was merciful, her rat bastard of a landlord wouldn’t lend her a single shred of sympathy. Not in a million years. The clock was ticking for Pomni to locate an exit before next month’s rent was due. Should she fail, and she certainly would, she’d return home to find someone else living in her apartment. Her space. The only place in the whole entire world where she felt safe. 

Her belongings would be auctioned off at best, and thrown away at worst. 

And…oh, God. She was a missing person. There were probably posters all over town. Posters plastered with her face and name, front-and center. Stapled to telephone poles, printed in the paper, pinned to those little bulletin boards at the supermarket. Everywhere. Millions of eyes, looking at her face. Reading her name.  

Pomni could already feel them burrowing into her back. Judging her. Pitying her. Laughing at her. The best thing they could do was look away in apathy. 

Her friends and family were probably searching high and low  — but their resolve would dull as the months paged over into years. Embers of hope, pining for her return, would still burn in their hearts until the very end, but it wouldn’t matter in the long run. In the back of their minds, they would know she wasn’t coming home.

The few friends she had, unwilling to carry the burden of their grief, would almost certainly make an effort to forget her. Just to ease the pain. Her voice would be forgotten as old videos and voicemails were deleted. Her face would be next. And then, one by one, each of her friends would speak her name for the final time. 

Pomni whimpered, burying her face in the soft fabric of Ragatha’s arm. Her chest was tight, pressing harder, harder, harder against a hollow core. Each heaving breath sent shockwaves of pain throughout her shrinking, shivering, pitiful body. 

Time. She was running out. Running out of time. She had to find a way out. A way out. A way to get home. Home. Home. Home. Time. Running out. Get out. She had to get out. Get out get out get out GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT RIGHT NOW BEFORE EVERYTHING SHE’S WORKED FOR CRUMBLES TO DUST AND SHE’S DEAD AND FORGOTTEN AND AND AND AND AND AND—

Pomni choked back a scream as a dreadfully-familiar, searing pain stabbed the tips of her fingers. Blackened flesh creeped like cancer toward her palm, each heinous step piercing her skin like a thousand poison needles. 

“R-Ragatha!” Pomni gasped. Abstraction shackled her wrists as the tips of her fingers sank into the ragdoll’s downy flesh. One, three, five, ten twitching eyes sprouted beneath her gloves. “No…no, no, no! I’m going to—!” She couldn’t bear to say it. “I…I need to—”

Ragatha turned. “P-Pomni? What are you—”

“I’m sorry!” Pomni strangled the ragdoll’s wounded arm, squeezing the bulky limb hard enough to force clumps of cotton out of her own failed stitchwork. 

Her eyes squeezed shut. 

Her breathing slowed. 

Shaky breath in, shakier breath out. 

In and out. 

In, and…

The grandfather clock announced the hour with a half-dozen chimes. Pomni cracked open a single eye. Like magic, her mind was calm and clear.

Her weary gaze swept over Ragatha’s shredded arms, over her shoulder, her neck, her furrowed brow, her gnashing teeth, her wincing eyes.

“P-P-Pomni! I said let go!” Ragatha’s complaints finally fell on Pomni’s ears, “That hurts!”

Flinching, Pomni released the doll’s arm, “Ah! I’m sorry! I-I—”

“What’s gotten into you?! Is everything okay!?”

“Y-Yes! Everything’s just fine! I just, uh…” Pomni slumped over, still gasping for air. “Um…” she shrank beneath the shadow of Ragatha’s stern gaze, “...just needed a hug?”

Ragatha’s stony face didn’t crack. “You’re hiding something.”

“What?! No, I’m not!” 

“Don’t lie to me! What’s going on?! It looked like you were just about to—”

Margarethe hissed. “Alright, alright! That’s quite enough chatter!” She clonked Pomni’s head with her hefty book. “In case you forgot, I was in the middle of explaining—”

“HEY!” Pomni barked like a dog, rubbing the back of her head. “Who the #@$% do you think you are, you ancient &!$#% !?”

“Heel.” Margarethe’s razor teeth flashed a ravenous smile, “...If you know what’s good for you.”

Pomni growled — but wisely kept her big mouth shut. It helped that a small part of her was thankful for the excuse to drop the subject with Ragatha. 

Margarethe chuckled. Referring to her book once more, she flipped to a specific page and began chanting a hex under her breath. Before either Pomni or Ragatha could ask what was happening, a pair of blindingly-bright orbs had already emerged from both of their chests. The magical objects drifted toward MacGuffin’s outstretched hand. 

“Now. Let’s begin with the darling coquette. What are her nightmares made of?” Mararethe peered down at the two white spheres orbiting each other in her open palm. Studying one for a moment, she cocked her head with a sneer. “Hmph. Typical.”

Ragatha slouched, looking sullen. 

“Centipedes. It’s centipedes, right?” Pomni leaned on Ragatha’s chair. She had only just walked herself back from the verge of tears, but she had made a promise to protect Ragatha, and she intended to keep it. “Don’t worry — you’ve got me by your side, remember?” She spoke through a confident facade, “I-I’ll squash ‘em for you!” 

Ragatha covered her mouth like she was about to vomit. “Ugh, Please—” she shook her head, “D-Don’t make me think about their guts...” 

Margarethe flicked Ragatha’s orb back into the ragdoll’s chest, leaving only Pomni’s circling her palm. She cleared her throat. “As for the untrained whelp…” she was already laughing as she lifted her long-fingered hand to her face — but the moment she gazed into the orb, her smug affect faltered. 

The phantom’s cold, soulless eyes ping-ponged between Pomni and Ragatha. “Well.” Grinning, she flicked Pomni’s orb away, “Isn’t that sweet? I wouldn’t have taken you for the type, darling.”

Pomni jerked her head. “Huh? What type? What do you mean sweet?!”

Mararethe’s face simply radiated superiority. “I suppose you’ll just have to wait and see, now won’t you?” She mocked, fanning herself. “Oh, shame on me! I haven’t been this worked up since the summer of nineteen-aught-five. This is going to be fun…”

Pomni’s knees locked together as the ghost faded away. “Wait! Where are you going?! What’s my fear?! What—”

“Best of luck!” The candles flickered to the rhythm of Margarethe’s cackling laugh. “You’ll need it…!”

With minimal fanfare, the door to the next room swung open all by itself, creaking horribly on its rusted hinges. 

🎪  🎪  🎪 

Margarethe MacGuffin’s maniacal mansion was truly massive, and, within the last few hours, Pomni and Ragatha had been treated to a terrible tour of every last nightmarish nook and creepy cranny. Just as Caine had advertised, an assortment of ‘tricky traps’, ‘perplexing puzzles’ and ‘supernatural sentries’ had been set up for them to navigate, ranging in difficulty from ‘mind-numbingly easy’, to ‘psychologically traumatizing.’ 

Surprisingly, Pomni’s accounting skills had come in handy in the manor’s ‘money-counting room’. The horrifying puzzle, involving the petty minutiae of tax codes and estate settlements, was easy pickings for the seasoned number cruncher. Still, no one was perfect, and Pomni’s sole mistake — in which she’d forgotten the purpose of box 12D on form 5E-344-B  —  left her at the mercy of a swarm of greenbacks-turned-paper-cranes. 

In the music room, Ragatha would have taken the opportunity to show off her cello skills, but Pomni, concerned that Ragatha would worsen her injuries in the process, had flatly refused. A small back-and-forth had ensued — but in the end, both parties agreed to disagree once the instruments, magically stirred to life, started to viciously attack. Poor Pomni had never sprinted so quickly in her life. 

The place where Ragatha’s expertise did come in handy, however, was the stables. A pack of raging horse skeletons ran rampant, threatening to trample anyone foolish enough to stand in their way. Ragatha’s prior experience with equines, however, gave her all the tricks she needed to quickly soothe the wild herd. In retrospect, the room’s main obstacle wasn’t even calming the horses — it was reassuring a shivering Pomni after the jester had learned first-hand what a horse’s skull looked like. It wasn’t pretty.

In all of that time, not once had either of their so-called ‘greatest fears’ reared their ugly heads — or even so much as teased them. Every single task, no matter how asinine, was turned terrifying by the prospect of transforming into an unimaginable nightmare at any point in time.

The sheer anticipation was a torture all of its own — but the girls’ latest assignment, apparently designed to drive them straight to the precipice of insanity, was a close second place.

“Ohoho, don’t fret! It’s quite simple!” Margarethe had announced shortly after Pomni and Ragatha had arrived at the spacious ballroom. The phantom hadn’t even tried to hold back her laughter — she truly was having the time of her life. “The door to the next room is just a hop, skip and a jump away. All you have to do, honored guests, is locate the key.”

In a snap, Margarethe was gone, and Pomni and Ragatha had looked at each other with dread in their eyes. Nothing in MacGuffin Mansion was ever that simple. 

Every part of the ballroom was sculpted with painstaking precision. The moon peered in through a series of extravagant French windows; long, velvet drapes, slightly darker in color than Ragatha’s licorice locks, spanned the length of each one. The checkered marble that spanned the floor hosted a spattering of perfectly-set tables; a crystal glass and a set of unsoiled silverware framed each empty plate. 

A mountain of keys — brass, silver, and gold — sat upon each plate, sparkling in the moonlight. The drinking glasses beside them were similarly filled to the brim…with keys. Keys, keys, keys. Keys were floating in the flower vases, floating in the wine bottles, floating in the air.

Finding a key would be a cinch — finding the key, however, was a task tedious enough to make Sisyphus himself blush. 

And so, there Pomni was, kneeling in front of the locked door, sunken eyes looking like they hadn’t had a wink of sleep in years. The young woman glanced down with a harsh sigh — the marble floor wasn’t exactly the softest surface, and her knees were starting to hurt. A lot. 

Head drooping low, she half-heartedly held out her hand. “Next…”

Ragatha, slumped against the peeling floral wallpaper, perfectly matched Pomni’s energy. Without even bothering to look, she stuck her hand into one of the myriad piles of untested keys that surrounded the pair. A moment later, she plopped a plain-looking one into Pomni’s palm.

The jester ran her finger across the dented brass surface of what must have been the thousandth key to pass through her hands in under an hour. Her eye twitched. 

This was the one. Their ticket out of this god damned ballroom. It had to be. She had no rhyme or reason to explain why — she just knew.  

With a curt nod, Pomni crammed the key’s metal teeth into the lock and turned her hand clockwise. She leaned forward just a touch, listening desperately for a ‘click’ — but of course, just like the nine-hundred and ninety-nine attempts that came before, the stubborn door simply refused to accept her offering. 

So Pomni stared. And smiled. 

Slowly and silently, she stood, squirming grin blooming into a wide, razor-toothed smile. She turned to face the nearest pile of keys, filled her chest with a patient, hearty breath…

…and drove her foot into the metallic mound with all the force her skinny little legs could muster. 

“Pomni!” Ragatha shouted. Hundreds of keys clinked and clanked as they skated across the marble floor. “Really?!”

“This is it, isn’t it?! My greatest fear?!” Pomni shouted, “Isn’t it!?”

“Pomni!”

“Trapped with no way out, taunted by an exit just out of reach, forced to perform pointess, tedious tasks until I go insane?!” 

With every word that Pomni spoke, Ragatha’s furrowed brow disappeared to make room for a look of grave concern. “Hey! Are you listening to me?!”

“The same thing, over and over, never changing…” Clutching her head, Pomni let out a laugh, strained and dry, “As if I’m not already living that nightmare every single day!?”

“Pomni, stop it! You’re scaring me!” Ragatha finally raised her voice. Acting on instinct, she reached out to touch Pomni’s arm — but the doll’s fragile skin punished her with another gut-wrenching tear. Pain warped the doll’s face as she crumpled forward.

That brought Pomni’s breakdown to a screeching halt. “Ragatha!” snapping herself out of it, the jester immediately scrambled to Ragatha’s side, eyes pleading forgiveness. “I-I’m sorry! I was just… I didn’t mean to—” she clenched her fists, grunting in frustration, “Are you okay!?”

“Are you?!” Ragatha snatched Pomni’s shoulders. Her face was brutally stern. “You are freaking. Me. Out! Tell me what’s going on! Right now!”

Pomni swallowed. She tried to answer — she really, truly tried, yet no words came to her blanking mind.

Ragatha frowned. “Y-You’re doing it. You’re acting just like the others. Just like him.” 

“H-Him…?” 

“Tell me the truth. Back in the dining room, when you were squeezing my arm, did you...” Ragatha’s voice wavered, “Were you…?”

Pomni’s pupils were the size of pins. Buried memories — of her bedroom, of the forest, of the mansion’s dining room — swarmed like locusts through her mind. She could practically feel the blood freezing over in her veins again, feel the despair grabbing hold, feel her whole body rebelling against her, transforming against her will into a mindless, violent beast. 

“...abstracting?” Pomni tore away, arms coiled tightly around herself. Her strong voice was stuffy and rigid, “I-Is that what you’re too scared to say?”

Ragatha’s eyes softened in an instant. “Oh, no. No, no, no! I didn’t mean to—” she winced, holding her arms out as far as they would go. She was this close to tearing open another wound. “Just…come here.”

“Wh…What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry,” Ragatha said, “Come on. Let me hold you...”

Pomni looked the other way, still hugging herself. She tried her best to look disgusted, to pretend to be angry, to act indifferent. “P-Put your arms down. You’ll hurt yourself…!”

“I don’t care.” Ragatha’s wavering smile held true, bending just slightly under the weight of her pain. “It hurts so much more to watch you cry, Pomni.”

“I’m not crying!” Pomni’s voice cracked, widening gaze sweeping across Ragatha’s arms. Her trembling arms weren’t helping her case. “I’m just…”

“...Just what, Sunshine?”

Sunshine. Pomni’s eyes were wet. She blinked away the unwanted sensation, shaking her head all the while — but it was no use. Ragatha really was the nicest person she’d ever met. “...R-Ragatha?” 

“Yes…?”

“Why do you keep calling me that…?”

“Calling you what?”

“Sunshine…” Pomni’s lip quivered. She tried with all of her might to quell the storm, but there was little she could do now. A pair of shimmering streams traced the length of her face, and at long last, she cracked, collapsing into Ragatha’s open embrace. 

“Oh, dear…” Ragatha wrapped Pomni up as tight as she could, squeezing the little jester like she would never, ever let go. Even she was trembling now. “Do you like that name?” 

Pomni nodded. 

She felt a lot of feelings. But most of all, she felt loved. So very, very loved. 

🎪  🎪  🎪 

The ballroom had nary a clock to announce the hour, and the eternal night gleaming through the windows wasn’t much help in telling the time, either. Pomni had no idea how long she’d been venting — just talking, talking, talking through the tears, explaining everything that had happened over the past few days. 

“...and it’s happened three times now.” Pomni spoke softly, at last lifting her head from Ragatha’s chest. However much time had passed, it was enough for her eyes, shocked by the sudden influx of light, to immediately recoil.

She rubbed her eyes, easing them back into the light. “...it just happens. Like a nightmare. My mind starts racing — thinking the same obsessive thoughts, over and over, until the thoughts take control. And I…” Pomni winced, shaking her head. “...w-won’t say anything else.”

Ragatha hummed. She listened quietly, finger tracing winding lines around Pomni’s back. 

“...But every time, I’ve managed to stop it.” Pomni said. She cringed a little at her own words. “Well, I guess that’s obvious...”

“Obvious or not…” Ragatha’s voice was calm and clear, “I’m glad.”

“Glad…?”

“Glad you’re still here.”

“O-Oh!” Pomni perked right up. Almost hypnotized, she stared into those beautiful, mismatched eyes. “Um, th-thanks. Me too...” 

Ragatha giggled. “Sorry to interrupt.” she said adoringly, lightly stroking Pomni’s backside. “You were saying?”

Pomni felt light, absentmindedly curling a lock of red yarn hair around her finger. Never before had she felt so heard, felt what it was like to have someone hanging onto her every word. It felt good.  

“I don't know, Ragatha. When I start to abstract, it’s not easy to bring myself back from the brink, but…” she breathed, “...it’s kind of like what you were saying before.”

“Oh?”

“I try to think of a silver lining. Something that makes me feel safe. Something…”

Ragatha’s thumb shooed away the final, thin teardrop drying on Pomni’s cheek. The ragdoll’s hand felt just like a cloud — softer than anything the jester had ever felt before. “Something…” Ragatha mused, finishing the jester’s thought, “...that makes life worth living?” 

“Yeah…” Pomni welcomed a cautious smile, “Something like that.”  

“Ah-ha!”

Pomni flinched. “H-Huh?!” 

“There she is!” Ragatha snatched the jester’s cheesing cheek and gave it a little wiggle. “There’s my funny girl!” 

Pomni tried her hardest to squirm out of Ragatha’s embrace — but the redhead had her decisively pinned. “Ow! S-Stop it!” she protested — but her sunny laughter only encouraged further torment, “That hurts, you jerk!” 

At last, Ragatha relented. “Sorry, Sunshine. Couldn’t resist.”

Pomni’s first instinct was to do the same thing back — to even the score, so Ragatha could see how it felt — but the woman’s words left her melting, all the way down to her soul.

Sunshine. 

She was putty in the ragdoll’s hands. What in the world was happening? What was this fluttery feeling? Why did her face feel hot enough to burn her fingerprints clean off?

“R-Right! In any case!” Pomni pushed herself off, lest she faint a second time. She could hardly believe how quickly her heart was thumping .“Th-thanks for listening and everything, but…” she glanced around in a panic, “...We should probably get back to it, huh?” 

Ragatha didn’t react right away. “...You’re sure?” She surveyed the endless piles of keys that surrounded them — many of which were now scattered about the floor thanks to Pomni’s most recent tantrum. 

“Of course I’m sure! Wh-Why wouldn’t I be?

“Well, it’s awfully sudden. I don’t mind talking a bit more if you need to! Really — I’d watch paint dry as long as you were next to me. Um! Not to say that listening to you is boring…!”

“It’s fine!” Pomni giggled. “Honest.”

“You’re feeling better?”

Pomni nodded.

“You’re sure?” Ragatha squinted. 

“Yes! I’m sure! We can’t keep stopping like this, Ragatha. We’ve got to get you back to Caine, remember?” 

“I…suppose we can get moving again, if that’s what you want.” Ragatha sighed. She glanced sadly at her freshly-vacant arms. “Just do me a favor, won’t you?”

“Yeah?”

“If we get stuck, try to keep your lid on — for me?”

“Y-Yeah. Sorry about that…” Pomni turned, scratching her head. The very moment she caught a glimpse of the piled-up keys, however, her face scrunched up. “This just — this sucks! How did the other members figure this out?!”

“Pomni.” Ragatha groaned. “Breathe.”

“Right. My bad…”

Despite herself, Ragatha still managed to look amused. “Think of it this way, Sweetheart. If the rest of those goofballs can figure this out, then so can we. We just need to put our heads together — think outside of the box.” 

“Outside of the box…” Pomni stepped across the checkered floor, scratching her chin. “Like…maybe what we’re looking for isn’t a literal key?” 

She scanned the ballroom through her pouting gaze. A series of large chandeliers, far grander than the tacky setpiece in her own bedroom, supervised the spacious room from above. On the northern wall was a small stage, complete with chairs, instruments, and music stands for performing musicians. A piano, paired with a small chest, sat at the far end. 

The jester’s mood soured, and not just because of her recent run-in with haunted musical instruments. Keys, keys, keys — what did any of this stuff have to do with keys!? Ragatha desperately needed help, but here she was, stuck in the world’s most contrived escape room. Ugh! Did people in the real world really do this kind of thing for fun? This stupid puzzle—

Suddenly, Pomni perked up. She eyed the piano. 

Piano. Keys. 

Piano! Keys! Of course!

“Ragatha!” Pomni raced to where the other woman was sitting, frantically waving her arms in the air. “Hey, hey!”

“Hm? Did you figure something out?” 

Pomni nodded, smiling broadly. She scooped the ragdoll into her arms, hopped atop the stage, and set her down in one of the chairs arranged neatly across it. All told, she only knocked over three music stands, two metronomes, and one priceless clarinet in the process. 

Pomni turned Ragatha’s chair so that it faced the piano. “Watch this!” she chirped, dashing across the stage. Her fingers pressed down on the piano’s lowest white note, and then the lowest black; the hammered strings within the instrument sang a long, colorful scale as Pomni dragged her digits across all eighty-eight keys. 

Hands clasped in hope, she spun around to check the door — but her face fell when, despite her genius plan, the door remained firmly in place. 

“What? But—” Pomni’s fingers pecked a low Do, a high Re, and the middlemost Mi. “They’re keys! Pianos have keys!” She laid her hands flat on the ivory, and the piano unleashed a dissonant, un-musical scream. “Are you kidding me? How is that not the solution?!”

“No, you’re right!” Ragatha clapped her hands together, “Good thinking, Pomni! You’re definitely onto something!” 

“I…am?” Pomni blushed, “But I already pressed every single key — every one! And that stupid plank of wood still won’t open!”

“Maybe it’s not about pressing one specific key.” Ragatha scratched her chin, “Maybe it’s a special combination. Notes can have letter names —  A, B, C, et cetera — so perhaps they want us to spell a certain word?”

“Ooh! A keyword! That’s good!” Pomni snapped her fingers. She didn’t hesitate to start sniffing out clues for such a solution — and it didn’t take long for the old chest beside the piano to catch her eye. 

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the lock — but, thankfully, it was only for show. Breathing a sigh of relief, Pomni opened the lid. The antique chest was filled to the brim with a series of long, frayed, dust-coated cardboard boxes. 

Curiosity piqued, Pomni opened one and cautiously unfurled the bulky scroll stored inside. A series of small, perfectly-cut holes stretched across the yellowed paper. Some existed in isolation, while others were grouped together into long lines — as if a leaf-munching insect had eaten its way through the fragile material.

Pomni’s tonge prodded the inside of her cheek. “Ragatha? You said you played the…” her gaze flicked aside, “...violin, right?”

“Violoncello.” Ragatha deadpanned. “Why?”

“Well, I was just wondering — since you’re a musician, do you have any clue what these weird rolls of paper are for? They seem related to the piano somehow, but…”

“I’m so glad you asked!” Ragatha gasped, clasping her hands together. “Those funky bundles of paper are called piano rolls!”

The redhead had responded to Pomni’s question in plain English, but the baffled look on the jester’s face suggested otherwise.  

Ragatha clarified. “Back in the day, these were used to play piano tunes without the need for a human performer. Each one plays a different song when loaded into a player piano.”

“Player piano…?”

“Oh, right. Sorry! That’s a special type of piano that plays itself. I’m not quite sure how it works either. But back to the topic at hand — see those little holes cut into the paper? Each one represents one music note. As the roll slowly unfurls, a sensor reads them and tells the machine which keys to strike.”

“Ohh…” Pomni ran her fingers across the parade of perforations that spanned the scroll. Slowly, she nodded. “...So it’s like a music box?”

“Now you’re getting it!” Ragatha beamed. The look on her face as she watched the concept click in Pomni’s head was a painting of pure joy; was it any wonder that she had worked as a teacher prior to her captivity? 

Pomni sighed. She planted an elbow on the old chest and cradled her cheek against her palm. “Your students must have loved you...” 

“Well, I did receive my fair share of apples.” Ragatha shrugged. “Never had to pack a lunch.”

“Wait, seriously…? That’s a real thing?”

“No. Not really.”

A silly smile teased its way onto Pomni’s lips. Heart stumbling, she turned away, fingers unconsciously fiddling with the old chest’s loosened lock. “S-So, um, is there anything else you can tell me…?” 

“Nah — telling is overrated. In my classroom, I always liked to take a hands-on approach.” Ragatha said. She admired the antique instrument seated on the far end of the stage. “There’s a player piano right there. Why don’t you give it a whirl? It’s been a while since I’ve listened to music.”

“S-Sure thing! I’ll find a good one!” Pomni said, eager to please. Just about tearing the lid off of the antique chest, she rifled through its tightly-packed contents with purpose, scrutinizing the faded titles printed on each box. She didn’t recognize a single song, much less any of their long-dead composers, so it was anyone's guess as to what the music would actually sound like. She may as well have just swiped a roll at random — and, as a matter of fact, that’s exactly what she did. 

Pomni set the bulky scroll inside the automatic piano after a bit of clumsy fumbling — and more than a little help from Ragatha. With the flip of a switch, the paper started spinning, and the premier notes of a lofty, leisurely tune stirred to life beneath the ballroom’s vaulted ceiling. 

Pomni’s fingers drew circles on the mechanical piano’s smooth, wood grain exterior. For a moment, she forgot where she was, utterly fascinated by the simple elegance of the century-old contraption. 

It was funny. The long-forgotten piece it played, humbly subtitled ‘a ragtime two-step’, had set her up to expect something more peppy and up-tempo. As the piano roll steadily unfurled, however, the melodic constellations impressed upon the paper sang a far different tune. 

It was the type of jaunty music one would expect to accompany a silent film, just…polished. Refined. All of the musical tropes of the era were present — the driving bassline, the active, syncopated melody — but the piece’s dignified pace and finely-crafted harmonies would have sounded out of place in a rowdy, turn-of-the-century saloon. 

Here in the ballroom, though, it was right at home — at least, that’s what the haunted furniture seemed to think. 

Looking impressed, Pomni tapped her foot, wholly oblivious to the perplexing scene unfolding behind her. “Not bad...” She grinned, turning to face Ragatha, “To tell you the truth, I actually kind of ohmygodwhat’sgoingon—”

Pomni stumbled backwards, then forwards, then backwards again into Ragatha’s chair. The ballroom’s inanimate denizens — the one-hundred-odd tables and chairs scattered across its marble floor —  moved all on their own, dancing in time with the mellow melody. A backing band of squeaking wood and clinking keys added a percussive flair to the player piano’s charming, just-slightly-detuned sound. 

Ragatha, for her part, was busy cracking up at Pomni’s complete and utter bewilderment. With a quick breath, she managed to compose herself. “Well, when in Rome…” The ghost of a giggle still lingered in her tone as she offered up her hand, “Shall we?”

Pomni let out a mousy squeak. “Huh?” She flinched, head feeling light, dots flitting across her vision, “But—”

“Come on. Don’t make me beg.” Ragatha batted her eyes, “It’s unladylike.”

Pomni blushed. Without a word, she swallowed, shuddering like a frightened animal as she reached for Ragatha’s hand.

Her fingers curled snugly around the ragdoll’s, plush and doughy. Both women’s palms — one big, one small — fit together perfectly.

Pomni slid her other arm behind Ragatha’s back, powerless to stop the nervous little whimpers sneaking out of her as she lifted up the lightweight woman. For a moment, their faces were close enough to feel each other’s warmth — and it took every ounce of restraint Pomni had to resist asking: ‘Can I please kiss you?’.

With a brief, peppy fanfare, the music transitioned to a new section; the enchanted furniture, as if controlled by a single mind, adapted its routine in perfect sync. 

“I, um…” Pomni’s knees trembled. This stupid furniture was making her look bad. “I don’t really know how to dance…” She winced at the thought, and then at the sight of Ragatha’s grave injuries, “And even if I did, how are we supposed to—”

“Shh.” Ragatha’s thumb glided across the back of Pomni’s hand. “Just…hold me.”

Pomni exhaled. 

Holding her dolly close, the jester closed her eyes, synchronizing her trembling breaths with every other downbeat. Her foot matched the two-step’s gentle pulse, and before she knew it, her whole body was swaying to the rhythm.

Ragatha nestled her head against Pomni’s chest; a blissful sigh escaped her shuddering smile. The tension in her body dissipated note-by-note, phrase-by-phrase, as her darling rocked her back and forth, here and there, to and fro. 

Back and forth they went. Pomni held her plain little ragdolly as tight as she could, finger tracing zig-zags across the curves of her fleece-soft figure. She adored the sound of her peaceful breathing, the way her hands cradled each other as she lay in her arms, all of her happy little fidgets as her body responded to the music. 

Here and there they swayed. Pomni’s desperate eyes wandered to Ragatha’s lips, plush and glossy. Her heart was glowing, but just beyond, a profound emptiness, like nothing she had ever felt before, opened up within her. It begged to be filled, and pained her to resist.

Swing, swing. To and fro. Ragatha was weightless in her arms. The whole wide world, and everything in it, was wonderful. Just wonderful. 

“Ragatha…?”

“Hm.” It took Ragatha a moment to respond. She jostled herself as if she’d just been woken from a deep, restful slumber. “What is it, Sunshine?” She said, keeping her eyes closed. 

Pomni swallowed a shuddering breath. “Do you remember the day before yesterday? When we were trying to film the new intro?”

“That was quite a day.” Ragatha cracked a smile. She nestled herself closer, basking in the rhythm of each gentle sway.  “I didn’t know you could scream so loud. Zooble, either.”

“Yeah…” Pomni tittered. “When you were showing me the way to my room, I remember feeling so exhausted, so frustrated. I didn’t understand why all of this was happening to me. What I did wrong to end up trapped here. I was taking it out on everyone, including you. But…”

“But…?”

“But you were still kind to me.”

Ragatha giggled. “Oh, come on. Don’t give me too much credit. You might hate to hear this, but you’re awfully cute when you get all worked up. If I’m being honest, the hardest part was not eating you up.”

“Cute...” Pomni felt butterflies. Her rocking slowed down, falling out of sync with the beat of the music. “That’s what you said about my hat hair. Remember?”

“I do! And I stand by it.”

The social contract of conversation required Pomni to respond with a laugh, or a ‘that’s funny’, or even a small, near-imperceptible exhale of breath — but instead, she simply stood there, thinking, utterly silent. And when she did get around to opening her mouth at last, her voice took on a noticeably different tone. 

“R-Ragatha…?” 

“Yes?” Ragatha’s mouth curled slightly — and not in the good direction. “Is everything alright? You sound like you have a frog in your throat.”

“Do you—” Pomni swallowed, “D-Do you remember what we talked about before? About…” she took in a shaky breath, “...something to live for…?”

Ragatha’s eyes flashed open with a jolt. The doll palmed the wet spot on her cheek, and flinched again when another droplet pelted her face. “P-Pomni! Are you—” she stammered, “Why are you crying?!”

“Because…!” Pomni’s face crinkled up, “B-Because, if you hadn’t said that…” she gulped down a long, shaky breath, “...if you had listened to me that day, if you had just left alone like I said…”

“Pomni…?”

The young woman’s tear-studded chin curled inward, coming to rest against her heaving chest. “... If it wasn’t for you, Ragatha, I don’t know if I would still be here…”

The old piano roll reached its end with no pomp or circumstance; the haunted furniture took a final bow, shuffling back to their places as the two-steps’s final chord faded away. 

A century of stillness stretched between the jester and the ragdoll. 

Ragatha pressed her hand to her lips. Pomni couldn’t blame her for her silence. What could Ragatha possibly say? Pomni didn’t know, and, given Ragatha’s flat, stunned gaze, it seemed the ragdoll was equally lost. 

“R-Ragatha…? I don’t know how else to say this…” Pomni’s whole body felt twice as heavy. Her body was a paradox, sweltering beneath overwhelming heat and flinching away from wisps of unbearable cold. “I think I, u-um—” 

Enough was enough. At long last, the two hearts spoke as one, crackling voices intertwined in an impromptu duet. 

“I’m sorry, but…!” the jester squeaked.

“That’s it!” the ragdoll gasped, “I can’t take this anymore — I’m just going to say it!” 

Together, they forced out the exact same words: “Can I please just kiss you?!”

…And time slowed to a crawl. 

Each woman was the other’s reflection, looking back from the other side of the proverbial water. Ragatha stared, at a loss for words, gawking mouth twisting into a little half-smile. Pomni stared back, eyes aglow, wearing the world’s dumbest grin without a care in the world. 

Smiles became snorts, snorts turned into giggles, and giggles bloomed into fits of gut-busting laughter. Pomni’s tears flowed still, but their wet, winding trails framed a face brightened by hope. “Did that just happen?!”

Ragatha giggled, pawing at her face. If she felt any pain — and she certainly did — it didn’t show. “Well?” she remarked at last, “I’m waiting.”

“Um…!” Pomni frantically nodded. “Right! O-Of course!” A bead of sweat traveled down her brow as relief gave way to worry.

She hadn’t the slightest idea of what she was doing. 

Pomni’s stance bent backward at a curious angle. Ignoring the added strain on her back, she swallowed, tilted her face closer to Ragatha’s, and then…locked up. For what felt like an eternity, she just stood there, knees chattering, staring into Ragatha’s eyes with a vacant, absolutely petrified expression.

“...Uh, Pomni?” Ragatha blinked. The moment was ruined. It was horribly, terribly, soul-crushingly awkward. “What are you doing?”

“K-Kissing you! Obviously!” Pomni shifted around, forcing a shuddering smile. “I’m just, um, y-you see—” 

“Is this how you usually do it?”

“Um, no. Not really…!” a beet-red Pomni shook her head, “To tell you the truth, I’ve never really, um…” her voice shriveled further with every word, “...I’ve haven’t exactly done this before…”

“Pomni!”

“Wh-What?! Is that bad?!”

“Goodness gracious. What am I going to do with you?” Ragatha playfully rolled her eyes. “Well, you already lifted me up. That’s a…start? I suppose? Look, just tilt your head for me.”

“Oh! Sure!” Pomni did — with gusto. “Is this good?”

“No! Not that much!”

Pomni let out a soft little whine. “O-Okay! Sorry!” 

“There. That’s better.” Ragatha’s yearning gaze closed the distance, “Next, close your eyes...”

“Like this?”

“Well, yes — there’s only one way to do it.” 

“Oh! Right…”

“God, you’re cute...” Ragatha filled her chest with a long, savoring breath, “...Now hurry up and kiss me.”

Pomni’s pounding heart was due to give out any second now. This couldn’t be real. Was this really happening? What had she gotten herself into!?

Slowly but surely, she moved her lips closer, closer, closer, until she could feel the warmth of Ragatha’s hushed breaths on her face. Her stomach twisted into a tighter knot with every burst of humid heat — but she’d come too far to quit now.

Carefully, very carefully, she—

“Ugh! Fine, then — I’ll do it!” Huffing just like a princess, Ragatha seized Pomni’s tunic, pulled her in, and pressed her lips against hers. She shuddered, squealing with joy as their souls linked at last. 

Pomni’s eyes were wide, her belly flat, her face a bluish hue as every last gasp of air was suddenly forced out of her chest. Sharply, she breathed in again, and a familiar scent stirred her heart like a siren song:

Strawberries and soil and fresh-fallen rain.

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

[First Chapter] [Next Chapter]

[linktoo-doodles]

Hi!! I absolutely adore your work and I was wondering if you have any tips on digital painting for someone who hasn't really done it before?

hello hello!! thank you so much, I've been mulling over this ask for days thinking about what would be some good tips.

Looking through my old work, you can kind of see where I slowly transition from lineart to painting for the first time. Most importantly, its getting over the fear of painting on top of lineart. using messier sketches too let me feel more free in painting over lines.

colouring under the lineart vs painting on top of lineart:

Also make sure to break down objects into simpler planes to figure out lighting, where it comes from and where light bounces off of. Here's a really good 3D interactive reference from artstation: [x] (keep in mind this reference uses common male eurocentric features! it's not applicable to everyone.)

Most importantly, study the artists that you love and ask yourself, "how do they nail the aspect of art I really like? how can I incorporate that into my own work?" its one of my favourite things to do. I even have studies of artists I admire that I never post publicly.

I have [#tutorial], [#gif process] and [#art tips] tags as well you can check out too. I hope that helps! Good luck on your journey!

[theresattrpgforthat]

I’m probably gonna sound very disjointed. But I have an idea for a superhero campaign where all the P.Cs are kids cause all adults have disappeared.

I thought MASKS would be a good system for this but my friend informed me that in order for MASKS to work you kinda need mentor characters.

So in your opinion, what would be a good, easy to learn superhero based system to run this game.

THEME: Superheros, Kids - Only

Henshin, by Cave of Monsters Games.

Henshin A Sentai RPG is a storytelling tabletop game about young heroes with transformative powers who battle both monsters and personal problems. It borrows from a Japanese superhero culture of color-coded masked teams, giant robots, and over-the-top special effects. Anyone can tell fun, collaborative stories in Henshin!, regardless of familiarity with the tropes, and the game showcases a diversity of settings and characters for every player.

This book includes instructions and actual play examples for everything needed to start playing Henshin! right away. Also included are the eleven Color playbooks, seven ready-to-play settings, original exclusive art, and references to digital downloads. Resources and information can be found at henshingame.com. Let’s Henshin!

Henshin is inspired by the Tokusatsu genre of superhero media, and reminds me intensely of Power Rangers. Your characters will wrestle with personal obstacles such as dealing with their temper, their failures, and the way they are seen by their peers. The system is inspired by No Dice, No Masters but that doesn’t mean it’s necessarily GM-less, just that it doesn’t use dice. Henshin’s settings are also very flexible, so you should be able to write your own custom setting in which the kids have taken on super-powered relics in order to survive in a world without adults.

Masks: Retconned, by Sam Roberts.

You’re like most teenagers, with one small difference: You’re a superhero. Fight villains, be part of a team, save the day, and maybe, slowly figure out who you are.

Masks: Retconned is a game of teen superhero adventures, designed for 3+ players. Most of the players will take on the role of individual Heroes on a Team. Imagine these as the protagonists of your new comic book series. One player takes on the role of GM, embodying the superheroic setting, supporting characters, and villains.

If you like the basic premise of Masks but you don’t want to deal with the adult entanglements, you might want to take a look at Masks: Retconned. The game is very bare-bones, and only has the basic mechanics - your stats, your emotions, and the graded success scale and what it means for moves. The rest is meant to be designed as you need it. So if you don’t mind doing a little bit of game design before you sit down to play, you might want to check this out!

Powered by Cereal, by bismuth.

Become the Teen With Attitude you always wanted to be Inspired by tokusatsu hero teams and magical girl squads, PbC is a game about building a brightly-coloured Hero team and playing their adventures across a Series, fighting to save the world from evil!

PbC brings all players together to collaborate on crafting a Series, with its own aesthetics for heroes and villains, its own setting, and unique qualities for each hero. Play comprises the Episodes of the Series: both the Heroes' lives, and fights against Boss characters. It uses a relatively straightforward d6 system and encourages the Hero players to think about how their individual actions work towards a team strategy, bolstering allies and keeping momentum!

Characters in PbC are embodiments of different virtues, and these virtues will define your personal strengths, as represented in the Verbs and Adjectives assigned to your character. Relationships are also important in this game, and this is represented by connections that each player will have with side characters, whether that be positive or negative. Overall the game is still very lighthearted, as it’s inspired by Saturday morning cartoons.

When you try to do something in PbC, you roll a number of d6’s, and check to see how many results were unique. The more unique results you have, the more successes! This means that there’s a cap on how successful your character ca be, but I think the fact that any roll is going to have at least one success really communicates the tone of this game. This another game where the setting is build-your-own, and I don’t see any mechanics that require adults to be part of the setting.

Teens With Powers, by Unknown Dungeon.

Teens with Powers is a one-page roleplaying game about extraordinary young people, inspired by TV shows like Teen Titans and Avatar the Last Airbender, and shonen manga.  As a group, the players and GM come up with the setting, themes, and age-range of the characters. Then each player creates a character with a singular power that they can use to help solve problems and fight evil, while also traversing the trials of being young adults.

Teens with Powers uses a dice-pool system to resolve risky actions, and a back-and-forth combat system to allow of maximum expression and excitement. Also included is a back-page with GM advice and rules.

Teens with Power is a stripped-down Forged in the Dark game. There isn’t much of a setting involved in the first place, so you should be able to build your own setting to fit your preferences. The downside is that there isn’t much guidance or inspiration for powers, so it might be worth it to check out something like Supertables to help you come up with your powers.

This ruleset has a mechanic called Limit, which tracks how close your character is coming to breaking down - push too far, and you lose control of your powers, likely causing damage and hurting something or someone you care about. This might be also good for a high-tension game where the disappearance of adults is the cause of a lot of stress and fear for your characters.

Super City, by David Garrett.

One in every one hundred children in Super City is born with super powers. You are one of those children. Together with your classmates at Super City Elementary, you save helpless citizens, rescue lost pets, and eat delicious ice cream.

Utilizing the ultralight VRBS system, Super City is easy enough for a six year-old to master, but also provides the structure for anyone to generate a superhero story of their own.

Super City was designed to be able to run for small kids, so the rule-set is definitely very light. Your powers will be represented as verbs, and you’ll gain better control over your powers as you progress. The game is organized over a series of scenes, which will present you with a number of problems that you’ll have to solve. You also have a collective pool of Energy, which is meant to track how close your characters are to running out of steam. The goal is to get through the mission without running out of Energy, which depletes when you fail a roll.

This is a game without a setting or history, which means you can backfill whatever lore makes sense for your characters.

Cosmic Ray Kids, by Hedgemaze Press.

Cosmic Ray Kids is a single-page (front and back) atomic-age adventure roleplaying game for all ages. Play as superpowered youngsters who fight the forces of evil with heroics and heart!

Cosmic Ray Kids uses a push-your-luck style of gameplay, that looks very much like the PUSH system by Cezar Capacle. Rolling a 6 is the best possible result. If you roll a 4 or lower, you can choose to roll again - but roll higher than a 7 and you’ve gone too far!

This game also has a Boost resource that is communal, and can be spent to improve a roll up to a certain point. This gives the players an option in case there is something that they can’t risk a re-roll for but still need a success, and also encourages the group to work together to figure out how to solve problems. If you want a game that has a retro-cartoon feel that encourages the characters to work together, Cosmic Ray Kids might be worth checking out!

A Special Extra:

It’s not a superhero game, but Children of the Fall is a GM-less game that takes place in an apocalypse that has turned adults into bloodthirsty monsters. It’s very gritty and dark, but an interesting premise.

[estro-gem]

Jax x Ragatha: Blood in the Water

The Amazing Digital Circus AU: Oasis

Author's note: Happy Valentines day! (even if it's belated) Have some angst and psychological torment~ (And a teensy bit of fluff) This entry has a lot of Jax, Gangle and Ragatha mixed together. I don't know how to label it, because it's not a Ribbun fic, but it's not entirely a Bunnydoll fic either. It's just a little mix of things.

Warnings: Abusive/Unhealthy relationships Depression Mania Implied violence Threats Talks of character death Animal instincts (RIP to the people who understand the signs)

SUMMARY:

Gangle is accompanied by Jax, who had requested her assistance with something unexpected. As the two spend some time together, Jax realize that there is more lurking beneath the mask she chooses to hide behind. Due to the outcome of a quarrel, the rabbit is left to his own devices and ultimately seeks out Ragatha's company to make a special delivery. As the odd couple eventually part ways, Ragatha is left unaware of a bloodtrail enticing an evil that they hadn't encountered in a long time. This is literally the only way to summarize the story without spoiling anything.

BLOOD IN THE WATER

Tissue paper. He wanted tissue paper to make paper flowers.

While the use of tissue paper could make for beautiful, simplistic, soft flowers, it wasn't something that Gangle would consider Jax to use. Tissue paper was frail and hard to handle without running the risk tearing them - especially for the rabbit, who was known for his rough grip and impatient streak.

But to Gangle's surprise, Jax insisted for tissue paper as bright and blood-red as it could be.

The ribbonoid could provide; happy hand over her stash she usually kept for the sole purpose of bleeding tissue-art, since the bright colour bled the best when compared to the other shades of red she had used in the past. It wasn't often for her rabbit-friend to partake in crafting arts, so she milked the moment for what it was worth, curious to find the reason behind the sudden interest.

Explaining and demonstrating the process of making the flowers was easy enough. The rabbit was delighted to see that they were simple to make - following her instructions with white sheets to practice with, before jumping to use the red sheets once he got it down. She sighed, a little annoyed by how she was going to have to beg Caine to replenish her green pipe cleaners, but happy to see Jax take the activity so seriously.

"Who knew that some people would spend their whole life wasting time on things so stupid?" Jax mused to himself as he picked at the thin, upper sheet of red paper to seperate it from the others.

...Well, as serious as he could manage it.

"And yet, here you are; wasting your oh-so precious time on the very thing you are calling stupid." Gangle smiled sarcastically as he finally managed to grip onto the sheet, then moved it painstakingly slow to fluff it up without tearing it.

He could insult the activity all he wanted, but he was taking it seriously.

"Because it's not stupid when I do it~!" Came the smug chime of Jax's voice that Gangle anticipated.

"No, no, you're right!" She said in mock agreement, before taking the chance to jab at him, "...because calling what you are doing 'stupid,' would still be considered as a compliment."

"Watch it, sister!" the bunny warned, clearly annoyed at his slow progress. He pointed the blades of his scissors to the ribbon that was acting as Gangle's neck, before snipping at the air and making the girl internally freak out for a moment, "Yer one snip away from bein' decapitated."

Breathe.

"Nothing you haven't done before~!" The masked ribbon teased, attempt to mask her moment of surprise.

"Didn't do a good enough job before, by the looks of it..." Jax sneered, before abruptly dropping the scissors and resuming his tedious task of fluffing up the flower.

Slowly, the tension left the ribboniod's body and allowed her curiosity to seep into her mind once again, as she tried to figure out his motivation for this task that he was so clearly annoyed by.

Earlier, he almost bit her head off when she offered to help him make the flowers. 'Many hands do light work' was her reasoning, but Jax was having none of it. He insisted on doing it all himself, leaving Gangle to busy herself by using her other coloured tissue paper to bleed it into some of her silhouette drawings she made a while back. They were mostly trees and little birds sitting in branches.

She liked how staining - tainting - something could be considered as 'art.'

If the colours were overlaid atop each other by having complimenting shades and colours positioned just right, her tissue bleeding art could resemble a stain glass styled background. 

And what others would see as a mess, could become something beautiful.

"Finally!"

She heard Jax exclaim, like he was spitting a curse. She peeked up and saw Jax eagerly counting the flowers he made over the course of the long while they had spent together. There was a moment of silence. She saw him freeze - before scrambling to count them again, more carefully the second time. He picked up the long, fuzzy, green steels of the pile, placing them down in a new pile as he counted. One by one, he counted them until he placed the last one down and buried his face into his hands with a groan.

"Not enough?" Gangle mused, not bothering to look at him, but unable to resist the urge to tease him.

"Shut up!" He spat, grabbing other green pipe cleaner and picking up the tissue paper to cut them into singular sheets again. "I need one more and then I'm finally done with this $*%@."

The masked ribbon looked up to him, then rolled her black eyes towards his pile of red, rose-like flowers. By how they were piled together, she couldn't count them all.

"How many did you make?" She asked, not expecting him to give a straight answer.

"Not your business, crybaby."

Typical.

"Ok, sure... but the number of roses you give really matters, you know~?"

Jax scoffed as he finish cutting the paper and carefully started layering them. He scrunched them in the middle and twisted the pipe cleaner around it to hold it together.

"I don't care about those things." he mumbled more to himself than to actually answer.

"And yet you are so determined to have the number right...?" Gangle asked, skeptically.

"Ugh, shoo!" the rabbit tried to wave her away like a pestering fly, making her snicker to herself, "Get out of here and let me focus."

"It's MY room!" Gangle accused, "YOU get out."

"Alright, alright! Geez, just let me finish this one, you drag." Jax chuckles to himself, pleased to see Gangle worked up.

It grew silent for a while, but the silence wasn't uncomfortable. Neither of them were mad. Neither of them wanted the other to leave. They were content and comfortable in each other's presence, despite the harsh words and use of blades to threaten each other. It wasn't normal, that was for certain, but it was theirs - and they would remain closely intertwined, yet never merged.

No... they had their significant others for that. The ones they truly wanted. They never wanted each other...

They only needed each other once in a while.

Like they did the other day, when Jax was driven by the mercy of his animalistic urges to... well... to do whatever it was that they wanted him to do at the time. He motives were never easy to predict when he was in that state. Some of the things he did, was probably something that only a rabbit would understand. Or maybe even a rabbit owner...?

Once Gangle found him in his room, vigorously clawing at the crumbled tiles beneath their feet, causing the glitching mass that the void of the hole he was creating, to crawl up his arms and almost invade his entire form.

Another time, he would loom behind Ragatha and shadow her movements like he wanted to EAT HER. While the doll insisted that he was no danger to her; and that he was being playful when trailing or circling her, Gangle always felt the need to intervene when he'd started to nip at her shoulders. He was never happy be dragged away in those cases - always running tight circles around Gangle in attempt to avoid her grasp - even going as far to virosciously swipe at here in jagged blurry movements. He'd take hours to calm down and he hide away for just as long when he'd clear his thoughts after those particular episodes.

She didn't know why he would be exceptionally embarrassed about it those specific instances he'd go feral. He never really did anything strange other than acting like a creepy stalker, but in a weird Jax-kind of way. As he was capable of recalling what he did and thought after his feral episodes, Ragatha once asked him why he would act as he did and pry about what his train of thought was during said times. The chasing. The circling. The nipping. 

Jax would clam shut at the very mention of it, simply shrugging them off in dismissal and refusing to even acknowledge it.

It probably didn't matter all that much anyway.

The ribbinoid pondered for a moment, before deciding to take the chance to get some answers.

"So bunny, what set you off this time?" She asked casually, seeing him fumble with the flower he was fluffing up, "Why did you go 'rabbit' on us the other day?"

"Same old, same old, Ribbons..." Jax mumbled, clearly not keen to talk about it, "Just a random triggered event, nothing special."

He blinked away the clear image of milky fabric dorning a purple heart.

"You sure?" Gangle asked gently, "I won't judge, you know! I won't even tell a soul."

"Drop it, Bowtie." Jax said with a bit of a forced grin, "I said it's nothing important."

"You know... I don't think that's true! I'm worried about you. You'll feel better when you talk to someone about it-"

Jax gruffed and bared his teeth in a menacing smile, causing Gangle to raise an eyebrow as he hissed harsh words at her, "What, are you trying be Raggs now? You should know your place - stick to what you're good at, Crybaby."

"I'm not trying to BE Ragatha, Jax." Gangle spat back into his face, matching his snarling grin, "Is it that hard to believe that I could actually care about you?"

"You shouldn't. It's not what YOU do."

"Just like telling people what they should and shouldn't do, isn't what YOU do."

"Yer right, that guy's GONE." Jax snarled, dropping the flower to get up in challenge. To his surprise, Gangle didn't back down. She just smiled back eerily, sending a quiet shiver down his spine. He knew she saw it.

She knew.

"He never told me that I SHOULD do anything~!" she purred, her voice no longer raised, "We were a team, but you wouldn't understand that, would you? You have no one. You bound to be alone for the rest of your pathetic existence~"

Jax looked disturbed, then enraged, but determined to hide it, "Kaufmo was nothing but a tutorial that prompted everything you did." he sneered, "If he was anything more, he'd still be here, or you would be gone too."

"Oh, you think I am so reliant on him!" The girl huffed, dismissing his accusations, "I didn't need him to know what my purpose is. I don't need him to fulfil my role and I don't need him to be replaced by anyone. I don't need him. So don't you go accuse me for trying to take Ragatha's place while you're clearly trying to take his."

"Well, someone has to get you to clean up your act with your housekeeper going AWOL." Jax swiped to knock Gangle's cold grin off her face, but she was faster, slinking her lanky form up and stretching to grab onto the high canopy of her bed and crouching atop it to sneer a grin down at him.

"You think I can't handle myself? Bunny, I've been doing that for a while now~"

"So that's it, huh?" Jax thump his foot as his frustration grabbed a hold of him, "You don't care? You're not bothered about what needs to change for us to survive without him?"

"Nothing needs to change!" Gangle laughs, but it sounds like nails on a chalkboard, "Things will go back to how it was eventually."

"With him gone and that new sucker around?" the rabbit barks a bitter laugh, "I doubt it! Don't think I didn't notice your little grudge~ And don't come to me with that crap about her 'checking you out' or 'trying to mess up your thing with Zooble' or any other bull@$&#! I KNOW there's more to it than that."

"We don't need her." Gangle slowly stalks along one of the beams above her bed, crawling closer to the wall, "She's useless to us. It's only a matter of time before she'll be gone. You saw her. She barely made it through her first day!"

"So it's survival of the fittest now?" Jax's eyes widen, realising that she's walking down a familiar route - a route he was made to obstruct.

"So you are on HER side, now? You're no better than me for implying that she could replace Kaufmo."

"Oh my god... I never said that, you $@&#@!"

"Then what are you saying?" Gangle asked with quiet tone, laced with false innocence, "Before, you said if Kaufmo meant more to us, then he'd still be here... or I'd be gone. Are you saying that I'm not needed here anymore? Am I useless now that Kaufmo's gone?"

Jax was at a loss for words - he was at a loss for anything. She was beyond reason. She was in denial. He never saw her cry or mourn her friends death. He missed all of the red flags, while wasting his time chasing his dolly around. He neglected his role.

He neglected his friend.

Jax saw her idly crouch close to the wall. He knew that she was moments away from disappearing into the rafters above his head.

He could still save her from herself. He had to stop her.  He had to get that damned, grinning mask off.

"Gangle, get down. Now."

...

She leaped to the dark ceiling, above the lights and up into the rafters, among the beams that supported the impossibly large tent. The rabbit could only watch as she slipped out of sight, cursing his incompetence in the silence of his mind.

He flopped down, holding his head in his hands.

How long has it been since he saw her cry?  When last did he make her cry?  For how long did he allow her to cling to that damned mask now?

She seemed fine before...

"@#&$!" Jax exclaimed, wishing nothing more than for Ragatha to be there with him. His doll.

No.

Maybe Gangle needed Ragatha more than he did?

Damn it, Kaufmo... Where are you?

He turned to take a hold of the unfinished flower and continued to fluff up the petals. He had to keep his hands busy as he desperately raked through his thoughts to figure out a plan of action.

He would go find Ragatha, as he originally planned, to go do his thing.

And then he'd find Zooble to bash their triangular face in, to get rid of his frustration.

Then finally, maybe, they could find a way lure Gangle to them, before she does anything destructive.

To them. To herself...

Jax sighed as he finished his last flower; and then he cursed Kaufmo for leaving them in a mess that HE was meant to clean up. He would've known what to do.

Jax's ears drooped to his back now that he was alone. He allowed a moment for himself to breathe. He was the snake. He was coldblooded and opportunistic - not meant to show compassion. He was their outlet. He was their scapegoat. He was in control and he would give the others control.

Control over what they hated.

He just had to crawl a little further...

Jax huffed as he stood up and grabbed his self-made bouquet, modifying it to his own vision and his liking. I simple, large white sheet of paper he could nick from Gangle's supply would to wonders to tie the bouquet together. It's a shame he couldn't hold onto Ragatha's blue ribbon he plucked from her hair

It would've made for the perfect tie...

The rabbit adjusted his clothes and patted down his big front pocket, briefly thinking about it's infinite pocket space cartoon-features. In times like this, he really appreciated the neat little quirk of his form. He tried not to think about the logic behind it for too long - it made his head hurt.

He straightened up his ears before leaving Gangle's room, modified bouquet in hand and walked down the hall. His eyes trailed up to the unseen beams and structures above him, trying to shake the feeling of being watched.

What are the chances...?

Shaking his head, Jax hurried his way down the hall. He had to be quick. It had to be perfect. Just like he planned. She would never see it coming. He just had to make it to her room without being noticed...

As he passed Kinger's door, he noticed it to be open and stole a glance inside as he marched passed it. What he saw didn't shock him, per say, but it was something he wished that he could watch a little longer... maybe get a little context while he was at it...

Ragatha and Kinger were sitting on the rug in the middle of the chess piece's room, with the ragdoll allowing the king to rest his head on her lap. They seemed to be sharing a tender moment and Jax felt a surge of emotion at the sight of Kinger seemingly being of sane mind again. It was definitely happening more and more now the Kaufmo was gone... Or maybe he just didn't notice it before...? Hell, maybe Kinger felt the need to fight off the madness a bit more, in order to compensate for their loss in a way? He could only guess, but the fact of the matter was that the king was definitely more... all there... than he was in a while.

Jax couldn't take too long to dwell on that thought.

He reached Ragatha's room and hurried to summon the key to unlock it. He was sure that his doll's keen eyes spotted him in his haste passed Kinger's open door; and the prominent bouquet in his hands would look, suspiciously, a lot like a weapon in passing, so it was only a matter of time before his dolly-dearest came running. It only took him a few moment's to slip inside, work his magic and carefully exit the room again.

No sudden movements...

He smiled to himself as he was just in time to stand away from the door - not looking suspicious at all - with the bouquet in his hands as he wore a bright smile that would put the very sun to shame. Ragatha stumbled out of Kingers room, looking like she was trying to find any excuse to... well.. excuse herself from Kinger's company to make her way down the hall.

He knew she would come running~

"Dollface~!" Jax called in mock flirtation, as she approached with a curious, yet suspicious look on her face, "How lovely to see ya on this fine day-"

"What did you do this time, Jax?" Ragatha asked with an amused sigh, eyeing the paper flowers with intrigue gleaming in her eye.

Jax dramatically gasped, putting a hand to his chest as if his heart was ripped out by her mere question, "Yer breakin' my heart here, Doll! Can't I just get my most favourite ragdoll in the entire Circus some flowers?"

Ragatha laughed, amused by his charm, "Honey, I'm the only ragdoll in the Circus!"

"Not the only one~" Jax winked, casting her a knowing smile.

He had another doll... in his room. One Ragatha made just for him. One that proved to him just how much his ragdolly cared for him, even if it was just by making a mere plushy. It was her promise to him.

Ragatha give him a fond smile, while shaking her head, "Oh, Jax..."

"Yeah... Uhm..." Jax cleared his throat, trying to move the conversation along, before things got too sappy, "Speaking of... These are yours. See it as a peace-offering after destroying your door and all..."

Ragatha's eye lit up by the sight of the deep red flowers that the rabbit practically shoved into her face, "Oh, Jax... These are paper flowers! They look handmade too... Did Gangle-?"

"Oh no you don't, Sweetheart~ I made these myself! Too bad I couldn't get ya real roses... I'd love to make a 'smell the roses' joke out of that!"

Ragatha unwrapped the flowers from the white sheet of paper, eager to see how he made them. She chuckled in wonder when she saw the green pipe cleaners acting as stems and took the chance to quickly count them.

"Nine roses, huh?" She spoke, almost breathless as her cheeks started glowing bright red.

"You like them?" Jax asked, looking her in the eye with a definite fondness.

How he would cherish this moment...

"It's perfect." Ragatha breathed, like a prayer, mirroring what he had told her in the past, "Perfect."

Jax gave her a smile that seemed to be laced with a strange melancholy as he absorbed her words. For a long, heated moment, the two only looked at each other, getting lost in their gazes. They were so close.

So close.

"You maybe wanna put them in your room? Ya know... before I get an earful from Zooble for being sweet on ya?" Jax smirked as he softly spoke, almost hypnotizing his Dolly into melting.

"Oh you~!" Ragatha sighed dismissively, yet fondly as she walked by her bunny to open her door.

Jax took a breath as she passed him, calming himself.

Don't laugh.

Don't laugh.

DON'T-

It was over in a matter of moments, just as Jax had anticipated. Just as he had planned.

Ragatha, knowing that Jax had keys to everyone's room, didn't think twice about her door being open by a mere crack after finding him standing right next to it when she found him in the hallway with a bouquet in hand. Hell, she was too distracted by the bouquet in her hands to pay attention to anything else. She didn't anticipate the full bucket of water balanced atop her door... or how it tumbled to spill water all over her form as she entered he room, cradling the soft, tissue paper flowers. The mass of water drenched her from head to toe and caused the bloody red tissue paper to crumble and melt into a big, soggy mass in her arms, matting all over her milky fabric she had as skin.

Her precious gift, melted and ruined. His time and effort, wasted.

Jax couldn't contain his laughter any longer, bursting into a fit as he saw her freeze in her doorway, before slowly turning to face him with a shocked, dead, expression. Her eye was glossed over with tears welling up at the sight for the flowers being completely ruined - a soggy sludge she tried so desperately to hold onto, only for it the sloppily drip to the floor as it seeped through her fingers.

"You should see your face, Raggs! Oh my god!" Jax laughed, gasping for air as he barely managed to speak simple phrases.

He should feel bad... but after this day he's had...? He really enjoyed a good laugh.

"My..." Ragatha spoke in a quiet, broken voice, "My flowers..."

"Ha! More like your SLUDGE now, princess~" Jax taunted, before harshly grabbing her wrist and holding it up for her to see.

Ragatha's eye widened as the sight of her pale fabric-skin; stained a smudged red as the tissue bled the bright red colour onto it. It would take hours of washing to get it out... or a hassled conversation with Caine to snap it back into it's former glory. Ragatha's heart sank into her shoes at the sight of her ruined flowers and the stains they left tainted onto her hands and arms. A lone tear crawled down her cheek.

It was such a thoughtful gift too...

"Looks like I'm not the one that's caught... red-handed! Ha!" Jax joked, seemingly unphased by her distress, before looking down at her with a cold look that she couldn't decide to be alluring or heartless "I've gotta say though... That look isn't half bad~"

He always thought that she looked so beautiful when she was crying. Now there she stood, tainted by his on doing. Beautiful... One could call it art.

"Anyway~" Jax dropped her hand like it was trash, shaking his glove as if he could shake off the sludge that the flowers had become, "This was fun and all, but I gotta go harras Zooble now, mmmkay? Don't miss me too much, Sweetheart! You wouldn't wanna hurt yourself~"

Ragatha stood silent as she watched Jax saunter off until he was out of the hall and out of sight. Her heart felt like it was shattered into millions of pieces, before being stomped on; only to ultimately resemble the blood red mass that now laid on the floor in her doorway.

He was... He was...

She couldn't think of a suitable thing to call him as she numbly looked over to her bed, wanting to collapse onto it and refuse to get up the next morning.

...But something caught her eye...

He was...

On her pillow, clear as day, laid a single, red flower, just like the ones he had gifted to her in the form of the now ruined bouquet.

One blood red flower, put aside and spared from harm, for her to keep. For her to admire.

He was her monster.

Hypnotized, Ragatha was lured to her bed, idly letting her door slowly swing shut by it's own accord as she fully entered her room. She was too distracted to see the glimmer of red ribbons ooze through the shrinking crack of her door...

As it clicked shut.

Author's note:

And there you have it, folks! Everyone in Oasis is messed up, hooray! There's a storm coming~ RIP Ragatha, I guess...

By the way... did you know that there were special meaning behind the number of roses you gift someone? Did Jax gift Ragatha 9, 1 or 10? All of the above? Who knows~ Bet he does... Mister 'I don't care about those things' (...asshole.)

Oasis: TADC AU list

Masterlist

[hzbinnerdlover]

A King's madness

(Votes are in and I saw that Mammon has won! So here's me working on that fic inspired heavily by @chestcongestion 's art! Hope everyone enjoys)

It was another day within the Greed ring, the poor king was feeling a rather strange pain in his chest and throat as he slowly started to sit up and rub his head, looking oh so tired as he gave a heavy sigh. "Christ- what's with my fucking throat-", he mutters as he rubs it cautiously, looking at the window that was giving him too much sunlight for his liking here.

"Ugh, too fucking bright there mate. Slowly he gets up as goes to close the blinds, shaking his head as he feels an itch in his face, blinking confused as he attempts to fight it off, losing terribly.

"Heh...heh....H-Hih-HIT'ssssSHIEW!", giving a sniffle Mam blinks for a moment after recovering from the unexpected sneeze, putting the pieces together and groaning.

"Uuuuugh you've GOT to be fucking kidding me here. I can't afford that shit now. There's fucking money to he made here!", grunting deeply he decides to go over to his closet and with a tap of his wand transfer on his work clothes, immediately heading downstairs to get started on the work.

He sat there at his desk counting the finances that he has to go over. "Okay let's see here, hmmm...nah nah are ya bloody kidding me?! We're supposed to have over 30,000 dollars for this shit! How the hell did we lose 50,000 for this shit?! Who fucked up and who am I gonna have to fi- KFF! KFF!", a sharp cough stops his thoughts instantly as he holds a fist to his hand and let's out a raspy cough.

"Ugh seriously? Someone get me the list for this project ASAP!!!!" He says while spamming the paper down onto his desk. His assistant Fizzy came in, wearing her adorable little maid dress and her hat having two little daisies that bounced down at rhe end instead of puff balls. She rushes over with the list and sets it on Mammon's desk.

"Ugh finally, SOMEONE useful" He growls as he starts looking over, circling names of people he was gonna have to fire. "Uh huh uh huh, yeah that makes sense. Ugh those fuckers never knew what they were doing here. Don't they know wasting time like this cost me money?!" He sighs continuing to circle names when he suddenly stops, feeling the itch in his nose come back.

"Fucking hell are you- k-kid- heh....HECK'CHUUUUE!!! IP'chieeeeEW! Ah'CHIeeeeEW! Ugh....", he gives a damp sniffle as he coughs again, itching his nose with the back of his gloved hand. "Christ, now, where was I...."

Dolly looks at him rather concerned, furrowing her brows in worry as she stretches up to the top of his height and slaps a metal hand across his forehead.

"OW! Dolly! What the he-" he stops mid sentence when he hears a beep and raises an eyebrow, her pulling back down and shows a number across her digital eyes.

"The hell-? 103....wait- did you just take my bloody tempature?! Seriously?!" Dolly gave a simple nod and smiled, figuring she was being helpful.

"Uuuuugh course I got a fucking tempature mate, it's what happens when ya get sick. Now shut your mouth so I can get back to work!" He grunts as he shoves her aside and starts getting back to work, pulling out his phone to make a few phone calls to some of his sponsors. "Yeah- yeah this is Mammon. Listen mate, your shit fucking sucks! I mean do you guys even know what you're- KFF! KFF!", he coughs firmly into his fist again, patting at his chest to try to keep it down.

"Ugh fuck....no I'm fine. Just fucking listen to yeah? We need to make a good im-impre- I-I'pSHIIEeeeew!!! Ugh. Impression mate. The better the impression, the more people will wanna fucking buy. WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY IMPRESSION IS SHIT RN! WHOEVER THE FUCK YOU ARE, YOU'RE FIRED!!!!" Slamming his phone face down onto the desk he coughs into his hand once again, leaning down as he does so.

"Goddammit....this SUCKS." Grunting he starts getting up on his feet, immediately feeling woozy as he does so. "Say....is it fucking hot in here or is it just me...?", he asks as he starts feeling himself stagger, grasping onto the desk and coughing. "KFF! KFF! KFF! Fuck...." Slowly he starts to fall over.

Dolly is quick on her feet tho and uses her extended limbs to carefully push back and help balance her master, shaking her head as she starts guiding him away from the desk.

"Wha-? Where are we- ASHIEEEEW! Going-? I swear if you're taking me back to bed I'll throw ya in the junkyard mate!"

Dolly ignored him and continued on her way, bringing Mammon back to the bedroom and immediately grabbing his pajamas, holding them out as he gives a pout. "No. Fucking. Way." He retorts as he looks away and gives a little shiver, Dolly making jingle sounds with her bells as she gives a look of determination to make sure her master gets to bed.

With a heavy sigh Mammon snaps his fingers and changes wardrobe with a glare. "There. Ya happy now? Stupid machine."

Dolly let's the insult slide off her back and smiles, bringing him to the bed and tucking him in as he lays down. He attempts to clear his throat as he feels it getting scratchier and more raspy. "Fucking great. KFF! Dolly. Grab me my phone, I still got calls to make here"

Shaking her head she crossed her arms and waved her finger, being rather firm about this matter.

"Oh come on! Would just...help me weh-weh....heh...heh..." Already seeing the outcome she stretches out and grabs the tissue box, holding it out to her master as he quickly plucks a few of them and holds them to his face.

"HIT'chUuuuuu! Hic'SHUUUU! Heh...heh...HET'sshiiiEW! Ugh...*sniff* Fucking christ" The small Fizzy assistant presses a button on her outfit and smiles, a robotic tone talking. "Bless you master", seemingly proud of herself for remembering which button to press.

Mammon rolled his eyes as he reached over and grabbed a fresh few tissues. "For a new Fizzy you still don't know how to properly talk yet?" Sighing softly as he blew his nose loudly and messily, groaning as he attempted to wipe up the mess, only for another sneeze to follow. "G-Geh-GE'SHIEEEEW!!!" bending forward into it as he gave an exhausted groan.

The sound of the robotic "Bless you" came about again and he glances over at Dolly, who was still smiling proudly as she offered the sin another fresh tissue.

Taking it rather gratefully he sniffled and shrugged. "Least you're fucking polite", he said with much more tired blow from his nose. Laying back he rubs his eyes as Dolly takes all the used tissues for him and tosses them away in the nearby trash can.

"Mmm...I think imma try to sleep here. I guess money making can stop for ONE day." Closing his eyes he gives a heavy sigh as Dolly is one step ahead and dims the lights, the Greed king already falling asleep as she slowly closed the door and smiled softly. She's off to go about her next assignment which is arranging all of Mammon's favorite foods to eat while he would be sick for the next obvious few days.

(Edit here I'm SO sorry it took this long to get out- been dealing with moving preperations and family stuff and getting over being sick myself lol. So here it is as promised! Can't wait to write more for y'all!)

[bobbybutterfly]

Oh my goodness! This took me almost 7 hours. I ended up having to re work the perspective. At one point he looked like he was going to fall off the building! I’m satisfied though. Just don’t think about the anatomy much. I’m putting more effort into my composition and colours. I mainly do it by stealing, I mean studying, composition and poses from League of Legends splash art I find on Pinterest

I watched Arcane and my brother played it when I was small all the time. A. K. A. I don’t know much about the video game other than the art (look my relationship to modern digital illustrations is complicated because my art teachers really hate it and I can see why) implements certain art techniques quite well. That was a long sentence! Anyway back to my painting? Drawing of Mulmangcho?

The improving in composition and colour go hand in hand. Different colours got different values. Meaning that if you switch the image to black and white certain colours are going to be darker or lighter. Your job as an artist is to make the piece be readable even if it was switched to black and white. With readability helps out composition! Composition is placing objects and colours in a certain way to guide your eye through the image.

As you can see the image still looks good in black and white. I made the parts I wanted the viewer to focus on the lightest. Like mainly the face, the gun and sort of the rest of the figure. I made the background darker so the lighter parts would stand out even more.

Now this is a piece I done a day or two ago. Um. Ignore the shadow not making much sense. I drew it like that so it goes in the same direction as the hand. I still did the thing of making the parts that are in the front the lightest. But the contrast isn’t… contrasting that much.

Here I added some screen tone. Much better no?

Hope you didn’t mind my monologue about art. I wanted to show off a bit to non artists just how much goes into making art. And trust me. There’s way more you got to keep in mind when doing an art work. If you get a lot of practice in, or just have talent (most people have a mix of both) it comes naturally to you. Kind of how you don’t need to think about how to take a step when walking.

If you’re an artist and I peaked your interest in art fundamentals I would recommend the YouTube channels Sinix Design and Proko. Bet ya they will explain everything far better than I can. Lastly it helps me out to recap what I’m doing. It gets stored in the head better. I never would have realised, just how much I know about the anatomy of an ear, if I didn’t explain it to a kid in a language I’m slowly forgetting all my vocabulary for. Sorry Slovak teachers, you tried your best.

Originally I wanted to talk about how I’m rewatching Squirrel and Hedgehog. It’s far better on a rewatch. The plot is very complicated. I still feel like I have to open up a word document and take notes. But at least I have an idea what is going on. I think I will talk about that more in another post.

[artthemasquerade]

Violence Jack Crybaby and Amon OVA concept art

I thought it would be fun to make some sketches of Jack of how he might look depending on the different adaptions Devilman has had, since Jack is a reborn Akira! I thought it would be good to give both versions of Jack longer hair since Jack is a lot more wilder compared to when he was Akira. I can imagine Crybaby Jack would be wearing a black coat and trousers since Akira in crybaby wore all black, and unlike his more empathic past self, Jack who is the embodiment of the compassion burn out Akira suffered towards the end(in my crybaby verse, Akira still abandons humanity after Miki's death because his tears had dried up for them too not just Ryo/Satan) and for a long while he doesn't seem to care about the pain of others until he encounters Ryu Takuma and the plight humanity suffers under the Slum King, he never really gets his old emotional state back but he does slowly regain his care of others. Amon OVA Jack has furs draped over his shoulders to echo the fur the design for Amon had, and Jack also has a the wrist bands and chain necklace as a reflection of his past self, the same goes for the leather pants and dark blue coat he wears, again echoing that late 90s and early 00s vibe Akira had in the Amon OVA. Amon Jack is extremely brutal to his enemies but is kind to the innocent, a part of him that does remember who he was and how much he had once failed mankind by abandoning them out of grief in losing Miki and focusing instead on getting his revenge on Ryo/Satan for betraying him.

These were fun to do, I didn't do any designs for OVA and 009 Jack since I figured that they would look pretty similar to the manga or OVA version of Jack XD But yeah it was good to draw a big muscular man like Jack and I should do an actual digital art piece of him soon!