000 - ragatha - tadc

Ragatha is characterized as a compassionate, optimistic, and "motherly" figure who acts as a mentor to newcomers like Pomni. While appearing sweet and patient, her relentless positivity is a self-preservation mask to avoid insanity, often hiding deep anxiety, insecurities, and a desire for approval. She is a severe people-pleaser who struggles to express negative emotions, oftenusing a forced, cheerful demeanor as a coping mechanism.She avoids confrontation and, due to her doll-like nature, can brush off intense physical pain or terrifying situations, though she has a breaking point.She is caring and helpful, offering guidance, yet sometimes her advice is seen as disingenuous by other characters like Jax or Gangle.She has a doll-like appearance, often exhibiting a "patched" look.She has bright red yarn-like hair.She has mismatched eyes—one is a shiny button (blue/black), and the other is often depicted as a simple black button, with one eye sometimes appearing missing or replaced.As a ragdoll, she is frequently subjected to physical damage (like being stabbed with a cleaver), but she can usually ignore the pain or quickly heal, often brushing it off with a laugh.

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The bright lights of the circus finally came back to view as Ragatha stepped through the portal to enter, the checkered tiles cold. The ragdoll stepped softly over it, careful to make little to no noise. Her dress was wrinkled and her bow crooked, but she could barely seem to mind. Her yarn hair was tangled, and her eye half lidded. The adventure was tiring, being attacked by crocodiles.

Everyone was already departing from one another, moving to the area where everyone's respective rooms were held. Ragatha stayed back for a moment, watching kinger instead retreat to his pillow fort. That was the only place he stayed, really, due to the fact he was only sane in the darkness that the circus didn't quite provide. The doll watched Zooble, who was walking with Gangle to their room instead of separating.

Sighing, Ragatha walked to the long hall of rooms. She passed by everyones shut doors that had their cartoony-like profiles plastered on the front. She passed by other rooms of people she didnt know; abstracted people shed never meet, that had their profile on the door crossed out with an X.

Ragatha opened her own door, stepping inside. She had a large bed, the soft sheets looking increasingly inviting. She sauntered over to it, not bothering to keep up her formal act any longer, now that no one else was around. Her mind started to wander; the adventure, Jax's comments.. everything.

As her head lay on the pillow, her plush hands rested on her chest, over where her heart would be. There was no beating, as usual. She felt herself beggining to miss the feel of being.. real, human. But there was nothing she could do.

She stripped her dress off, looking at the patches on her body in the mirror. She looked soft, pillow-like. Her body was thin, flat, nothing like her human form she couldnt remember of. The patches on her body were clear. I dont even have feet, she thought, looking down at the round, plush hoof-like feet of hers. The white, soft bloomers stitched onto where her pelvis would be.

She looked away from the mirror, reaching for her bedside drawer where she kept a needle and thread. Shes patched herself up countless times, sometimes her fabric got torn and stuffing poured out. She grabbed red thread.

Her hands moved skillfully over the area where her heart would be, stitching a cartoony-heart there, stitching the red fabric into her chest. Puncturing the needle didnt hurt, luckily to what Caine programmed a "no-pain" law. She stood after a while, placing the needle and thread back into the drawer carefully, next to where her collection of knives sat.

She began to stare into the mirror again, pointing out every flaw on her digital body. Her whole body was flat, and she really did look like a doll. She hated this stupid body, this stupid digital form. She placed a hand over the heart she sewed onto her chest, a long sigh escaping her mouth.

Her mind started started to race. She remembered everything she wish she wouldnt; her mother's guilt tripping, rude words about her, and the bruises she received from her. The soft smile she always wore began to fade, the motherly facade dropping.

Her mother would tell her she was pathetic every time she sobbed like this, how she should be better. Ragatha tried to calm her racing mind; she didn't like failing. She didn't like feeling like a failure.

Ragatha knew she was pathetic. She knew she was stupid. She apologized internally to her mother; even though she knew no one was there, or could hear her.

The ragdoll suddenly wished for death. But, of course, that was impossible. She wished she wasnt so pathetic; she hated herself. She hated that she was so nice.

No one cared anyways. No one would care if she would abstract. No one would care if she suddenly didn't show up. No one would care if she stopped talking.

Jax hated her; he hated everyone. Gangle and Zooble never talked to her. Pomni didnt seem to be fond of the ragdoll either. Kinger liked her, but he wasnt sane enough to hate anyone when he's in the light.

She huffed, her head whipping to where she placed her knives. She grabbed one carelessly, plush fingers curling around the handle as she pressed the blade right to her throat.

To her little surprise... nothing happened. Nothing would ever happen apart from the mocking cotton that would fall from her wounds that she would just patch up.

Her free hand came to touch the soft cotton that fell out, fingers curling around it and shoving it to the floor.

"Im so fu[BOINK!]ng pathetic." The ragdoll thought out loud; the word censor mocking her. Her tone was bitter and laced with self depreciation, stripped from the soft, motherly tone she always used.

Would this ever end? Would they ever escape?

Anger began to fuel her thoughts. They ran freely, Jax's taunting voice thrumming in her ears, laughing and mocking her.

She began to realize how much she hated everyone. Hated not being seen. Hated how she was always the last choice. All she was was nice, she was basic and embarrassing.

She hated everything about herself. She stiffened as the mocking voice in her ear grew more persistent. "Youre just like her." The words rang in her ears. She didn't wanna be like her mother.