Chapter Text
In Pomni’s life, ice skating had always been a concept that only existed in secondhand acknowledgement. Something drawn in kitschy fashion on Christmas cards or shown in Olympic form on degraded CRT television screens in the waiting room for doctors and dentists, concretely real but only outside of the balmy midwest bubble of the United States that she’d come from. Owing to this, the suggestion of a skating rink as the next Circus project (a passing mention from Zooble, and one Ragatha had eagerly agreed with) was one that she wasn’t sure how she would feel about.
Now though, a couple of hours after unveiling the finished building and everyone strapping on their skates, she had to admit, she was having fun. Learning to keep upright on the blades had been a bit of a struggle at first, but Ragatha’s encouragement and some good ol’ manifesting thought had seen her up and making figure eights relatively quickly. From there, the time had just flown by.
Taking the umpteenth swing of her hockey stick that day, Pomni launched the puck she’d been zigzagging around, aiming for the net Zooble was guarding. It was batted away effortlessly, as was the follow-up, and a third strike would become lodged right between their crossed knees, prompting a slight squint of the sculpture’s eyelids that Pomni knew by now was the mouthless equivalent of a jeering smile. She didn’t consider herself to be a very competitive person, much less so in the realm of physical sports, but Zooble had a way of (affectionately) getting under peoples’ skin that made any friendly contest into an affair.
“Oh, you’re fucking on—” A rapid-fire series of blocks and slapshots ensued, with louder and louder cracks accompanying each successive exchange. Each time the puck would be sent back the opposite direction Pomni had sent it from, sending her on further and further dives each time she hoped to stop it, but she would always land just soon enough to strike back.
Their battle of wills would eventually see Zooble the winner, when they spun their stick and sent the little black disc whizzing between the jester’s feet, out across the length of the rink. “Holy hell, you are good at this,” Pomni exclaimed, out of breath and leaning on her stick as a show of surrender.
“Eh, my dad took me up to Minnesota for winter break every year when I was a kid. Had lots of practice on the ice.” Trussed up in ‘goalie padding’ comprised of a yellow sweater and some of the bulkier pieces from their chest of body parts, Zooble was a bit of a ridiculous sight to take in, but one offset by the ever cool demeanor they carried themself with. They paused, before adding, “The four extra arms also help, if I’m being real about it.”
Said appendages fanned up in one smooth motion and began giving Pomni waves and thumbs-ups (and one awfully rude middle finger) behind Zooble’s head, which got a chuckle out of her. “Next time we’ll have to give you a handicap of only using four. I think I’ve had enough of getting my butt handed to me for today, though.”
“Fair ‘nuff. I’ll put away the net, you wanna grab us some hot chocolates?”
“Sounds good!”
The concessions area was only a short skate away, thankfully enough. With the adrenaline (or whatever digital equivalent of it existed for them) winding down from her system, it finally hit Pomni how chilly she’d gotten. The tips of her fingers and toes stung inside of her gloves and skates, encouraging her to nestle down further into the red-and-blue striped neck of her jumper.
Caine had at first argued and headscratched over the proposed temperature when they were designing the building, confused as to why Zooble and Gangle had insisted on it being realistically cold. Pomni had secretly agreed at the time (the sting of coldness did not seem like it would particularly enhance the experience, in her opinion), but she discarded her objections quickly when Ragatha offered to knit everyone hats and sweaters for the occasion. By the time the rink was assembled, she’d come back with an armful of winter clothing in tow, with a chuckle and a warm twinkle in her eye that almost completely distracted Pomni from deflating a bit once she noticed the number of garments she’d carried in.
Almost.
Upon touching solid ground again, the skates she’d been wearing dissolved completely, flickering away into a purplish spatter of pixels and instantly relocating onto a shelf nearby. Trying her hardest to ignore the faceplates each of the shelves was stamped with (that wide-eyed picture of her was gonna haunt her for the rest of her life, wasn’t it?), she pattered off toward the drink stand.
As if by reflex, seeing the counter with no one behind it prompted Pomni to look around the lobby. Then, a moment later, she caught herself. Smooth move, dipshit. Even so long after being whisked away to this digital dimension, the instinctual trappings of the outside world clung to her.
A few button presses on a heated dispenser provided the drinks she’d come for, blessedly warm to the touch. Two for her and Zooble, and one extra, just in case. While sticking them in a tray, she couldn’t help but notice Gangle and Caine huddled up together at one of the lobby’s tables, having a spirited conversation over a notepad and some coloured pencils. Argumentative and nitpick–y as he could sometimes be when an idea didn’t make sense to him, Caine held true to his word after returning, genuinely listening and collaborating as suggestion after suggestion was given to him. Gangle’s pitch today was a new “setting” for the rink that would make it respond to contact with the metal of the skates’ blades by colouring the topmost layer of the ice, turning it into what Pomni could only imagine as an interactive painting canvas overlaid onto the ice. Caine’s expression shifted back and forth between excitement and calculation, no doubt sifting through a million thoughts a second about how he might be able to simulate such a function.
“I’m liking what you’re laying down here, a lot actually! I do have to ask though, how exactly would you go about switching colours under this hypothetical system? I can’t imagine everyone would want to shout for me whenever they want to…I dunno, turn on the green.”
Gangle chuckled and mulled on the question, the ends of her hand ribbons poking out from white sleeves and swishing together a bit. Maybe it was just in Pomni’s mind, but the teardrops that hung from her mask’s eyes seemed a little bit smaller these days than they used to. “A glowstick,” she thought aloud, “One that changes hue? A-and the colour it’s on is the colour the skates leave over the ice.”
The look on Caine’s face as he contemplated brought to mind the sound of a dial-up modem connecting for Pomni, and it very nearly caused her to start snickering. “Voice activated?” he asked, after snapping out of his stupor. “No, that’d be disruptive…what about a button? Hold it down, and watch as it goes through the whole RGB wheel!”
“Yeah! I-it might need some workshopping to nail down a good speed for the colour picker to go at, but I like the sounds of that!”
“Perfect! I’ll see about having it in beta the next time you come here. You’ll be free to skate all the pretty and emotionally unavailable anime boys kissing across the ice that you like!” A squawk of protest from Gangle over that remark quickly devolved into both of them laughing.
Only as Pomni was leaving with her beverages did Caine’s line of sight drift over to her. There was still a self consciousness to him, shifting in his seat a little as though anticipating correction or scrutiny, but a little smile and a nod was all the feedback Pomni felt the need to give. Satisfied, the ringmaster puffed up his chest inside his tuxedo-patterned sweater and turned his attention back to Gangle, conjuring up a glowing cylinder to serve as the base of their little experiment.
It was comforting to see him having come this far, she thought to herself, as the warm glow of the lobby was swallowed by the dark of the connecting passage. The same went for everyone else too, come to think of it. The horrors they’d survived through just six months or so felt distant, seeing them enjoying their time together and supporting each other in the present.
Maybe Pomni herself was beginning to move on as well, but she found that this thought brought her less comfort than she thought it might.
After she made it back to the rink, she noticed that Zooble and Kinger were seated together at the front row of the spectator stands, and hurried over to join them. “Oh, Pomni!” Kinger tugged the royal purple neck of his sleeveless garment down, disregarding the fact that he had no mouth to make more room for. “Did the guy manning the snack counter finally get back from his break? I went out earlier and waited in line for almost half an hour, but I never did see him come back.”
Silly old man, Pomni thought with a grin. “Kinger, no one works here. It’s just us.”
“Really?” He blinked, his eyelids out of sync. “Gosh…they should really work on their turnover rate. Maybe I’ll leave a note in the suggestion box to let them know.”
Rolling her eyes ever so slightly, Pomni handed the chess piece a cup of hot chocolate and hopped up into the seat next to him. “How come you guys are up here, anyway? All done skating for today?” A small part of her hoped so, as she wanted to check in on Jax before-
“Look.”
Zooble hadn’t turned to address her or even to take her drink, focusing instead on something in the general direction ahead of them. Pomni curiously turned to see what they were looking at, and immediately felt the breath stolen away from her as she was absorbed by the lone figure still clad in skates.
A spotlight of unknown origin trailed after Ragatha as she spun across the ice, with a level of poise and grace Pomni had only seen in those Olympic performances so long ago. The sense of motion she maintained even as she twisted between skating forwards or backwards was astonishing and made it seem akin to taking flight, her arms outstretched and swinging as she all but danced a ballet for her audience of three. Clockwise spins weaving into counter-clockwise spins and then back again, each with more velocity than the last, until she bounced off in a new direction; and all the while, her face locked into an expression of total confidence, as though she knew down down to the exact decimal figures how she would leap and land.
Was there a song playing in her mind? What rhythm was she moving to? There was no sound in that rink but those of Ragatha’s skates scraping across the ice, but the sureness with which she danced conveyed a world of mystique, all kept hidden away in the space between those pretty red curls of wool, and the bow bouncing just atop them.
She dipped down and held the position for a time, one of her hands hovering just inches above the ground, and sprung back up with ease. In the fraction of time that they met each others’ eyes, Pomni felt her heart skip a beat.
The crescendo came when Ragatha suddenly hit a burst of backward momentum. Ever so briefly she moved in that direction, before leaping into a twirl that spun her like a top. Once, twice, three times, nearly four—and then she landed on a single leg, the other sweeping up behind her as she stretched her arms out. She held that pose for a good ten seconds, and at last the show came to an end as Ragatha stood back up straight, her hands coming up to their usual spot of unsureness in front of her chest.
“Heh, what’d you guys think?”
Zooble’s raucous applause and Kinger’s cheering and hooting drowned out any sound Pomni could have ever hoped to make. Eyes wide as saucers and her grip nearly threatening to crush the drink in her hand, she fumbled for words as the stocky ragdoll came over to join them.
“Holy shit, I had no idea you had that in you. Could put some professionals to shame with that kinda performance, I bet.”
“Where are my score cards?! Oh, I think I forgot them at home dear, but you get a ten from me! Or wait—how high do the scores go again? A hundred!”
Ragatha let out a sheepish laugh, and gave her ‘adoring fans’ a curtsy that Pomni could feel unloading a deluge of serotonin on her brain. “Oh, you guys…you’re really too much! I’m nowhere near as good on skates as I am on horseback, but I had to keep myself busy with something during the winter, y’know?”
Her attention moved to the jester. “I was hoping you’d get back in time to see,” she said, fidgeting with one of her red curls. “I wanted to wait, but…I didn’t wanna lose my nerve, y’know?”
Why did it feel like her mouth was full of wet cement all of a sudden? A torrent of praise and awestruck questions were jammed at the base of her throat, bottlenecked by an excitement that Pomni didn’t quite understand. The first comprehensible sentence to escape her, however, was a gravelly and simple croak of, “You’re amazing, Ragatha.”
“Haha, you think so? Oh wow…”
A person with the talents and the charm Ragatha possessed had no right being as modest as she was. Her big arms made for quite the contrast as she grabbed shyly at the hem of her powder blue sweater, which somehow left Pomni even more red in the face than the stunning display she’d just put on.
“Thanks,” she beamed. “That really means a lot coming from you.”
It was then that Pomni was struck with an unconscious thought, one that had gradually wormed its way out into her open mind and drowned out the ongoing conversation around her. It was a realization that made her heart flutter and twitch in equal measure to how much it sank into the pit of her stomach, sending prickles of warmth and chills through her veins.
Pomni liked Ragatha.
She liked Ragatha a lot.
“Uh, Pomni?”
Kinger’s voice shook her back to reality. She glanced between her three friends, stammering over her words. “Uh—I’m, I mean—”
“Ragatha was just asking if you grabbed her a hot chocolate.”
“It’s fine if not, really! I can just go out and get my own—”
Immediately, Pomni’s arm shot out to offer the cup she’d been holding, doing its best to keep from shaking hard enough to spill. “Nope!! No worries, yours is right here. I-I already drank mine.”
The intensity with which she insisted her little white lie took the gang aback, but Ragatha couldn’t resist the siren call of the hot chocolate for long. “Shucks, you’re the best,” she said, taking a long swig of the still steaming drink and melting in delight as its flavor.
“No problem. No problem at all." It took every ounce of power Pomni possessed to avoid looking over at Zooble, who she almost knew was staring right through her.
Good grief...this could end up complicating things.