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estro-gem · 3 months

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Kinger x Ragatha (Platonic): Misplaced, but present

Author's note:

This is a long awaited duo (at least for me) and I loved figuring them out when I first thought of Oasis. I hope you enjoy these sad saps as much as I enjoyed writing them. Ragatha gets to shine in her role and you get a peek into Kinger's mind.

And you get some of that sweet, sweet ANGST.

Warnings:

Angst

Delusion

Existentialism

Dementia

PTSD

Talks of death

Hurt/Comfort

SUMMARY:

Kinger had seen everything, but he has a hard time telling facts from fiction. Fading in and out of reality, he is suddenly brought into a period of clarity when a good friend came for a visit.

MISPLACED, BUT PRESENT

Kinger loathed the vast, expansive void.

He always felt so lonely, even though he was never alone - cursed with the company of something he couldn't see. Something big and incomprehensible. It - they - they were watching him; he could feel it.

The tingling sensation of eyes burning into him from all directions. It felt like an entire nest of termites chewing their way further and further into him. Little feather-like feet that pitter-pattered all over his wooden shell that he came to know as 'skin,' that left a trailing hot blaze of stinging in their wake.

It didn't matter how much they ate away from him; their hunger never ceased. There was somehow, always, more of him for them to feast on. It burned. It felt like it would never end.

It was his own personal hell.

A hell that blinded him from them who were always watching him. Them, who found the ever-amusing entertainment in his suffering; never ceasing their gaze. Always watching. Ever-consuming. The king was sure that while he couldn't hear them, they were laughing. It was echoing from all around him and yet the silence was as deafening as his claustrophobic void was dark.

A part of the chess-piece's mind was untouched by the madness of his tormented soul, but it did little to lessen the burden of existing. All it could do, was nothing but aid him with empty sympathy.

Sometimes, it was a quiet voice that whispered to him, drowned out by the raging silence that hummed into his skull. He would try his best to answer, but it was like having a conversation with someone behind a thick wall of glass. He usually reverted to speaking about whatever came to mind - be it the works and manners of the digital plain or how the flapping rate of a hummingbird's wings compares to that of a honeybee.

Anything to drown the dreaded, buzzing hum that was the silence within his empty void.

Anything to silence the sound of his own blood rushing through ears.

Then again, there was another corner within his mind that caused hyper-realistic halutionations. Those were his favourite! At first, the experiences were something he dreaded - a bizzare world that his mind conjured from his descent into madness, which farmed the visions, sights and sounds that would have haunted his dreams, were it necessary for him to sleep. The world was vivid, bright and colourful; inhabited by creatures - similar, yet unlike him. They were nothing short of monsters, aliens, and yet they were so human, it scared him.

But soon, he welcomed them - the halusionations. They acted like him. They were just as scared as he was. They were… human. At least, that's what they insisted - and Kinger knew that it all was just a ruse of his mind losing a grip on reality. It wasn't like the king was actually stuck in a Digital Circus.

That would be ridiculous.

But, oh, was it fun to play make-believe! In the void - in reality - he had nothing but darkness and the overwhelming silence pulsating into his ears.

In the Digital Circus, he had friends. Sure, they were friends of his mind's own making, but they were his! And they resembled humans - and that is what he desperately craved the most. It made the long periods in the nothingness all the more worth it when one of his friends just… POPPED into existence. When HE popped into the makings of his deranged mind.

The Circus became a home away from home.

He couldn't wait to see what his mind would conjure up next. WHO it will conjure up next… He dreaded, however, who he would LOSE next.

Yes, as much as he hated it, just as his imaginary friends could come into existence, they could apparently, also permanently leave - destroy themselves. He called it abstraction, because he didn't know what else to call it. To his surprise, his other friends would mourn the ones they lost… and he, too, would suffer the heartache, much to his confusion. Those who abstracted, never came back to him - just as it would be in real life.

They were so human… but they just couldn't be real, could they? Kinger was just slowly growing more insane - that's what it was.

"Kinger?"

The chess piece jumped with a startled yelp. In a blink, the nothingness he so often found himself in - his reality - ripped away from his mind's grasp. He frantically looked into the direction of the voice that chimed so clearly, finding one of his oldest friends standing in his open doorway.

Right! Last time he was in the Circus, he was in his room! He couldn't remember why, though…

"Ragatha!" Kinger said surprised, "You startled me!" The doll cringed in a way that could easily be mistaken for an awkward smile, "Sorry about that. You drifted off again."

"So it seems!" Kinger played along, relaxing into the fantasy that was this Circus, "Did you need anything?"

"A favour, if you wouldn't mind?" She asked, hugging one of her arms to her side, while Kinger shook his head and waved his hands almost annoyed with how she even bothered to ask. Ragatha walked into his space, clumsy and careless, as she took one of his hands and sat at the desk in front of his mirror. The doll looked back, knowing that Kinger would still be standing right where she left him, as his floating hands could be pulled away from his body for an indefinite distance.

He would have blinked if he could, before he maneuvered his way to stand behind her, also looking into the mirror. When the ragdoll let his hand go, he took ownership of it once again, only to place both hands, firmly, onto each of Ragatha's shoulders. He could feel her body melt as she sighed at the feeling of his hands resting on her.

The king piece looked down, expecting her to tilt her head back and lean against him to look back up at him. Instead, he was met with the sight of Ragatha's red locks.

Something just wasn't right with them…

Ah, yes, of course!

"Where's your bow?" the king asked confused.

"Jax was trying to being funny again… It got plucked off." Ragatha scoffed, before asking meekly, "Could you tie it for me?"

Kinger sighed in esperation with an annoyance that didn't mean serious harm, "Oh, when I get my hands on that boy-"

"-you'll thank him for what he does for us?" Ragatha smirked up at Kinger while holding up the blue ribbon for him to take. Instead of doing as she suggested, the king gently cupped both of Ragatha's cheeks, causing her to soften her previously challenging look.

"I don't want him to hurt you." Kinger spoke earnestly, using his thumbs to gently swipe at the area under the doll's eyes, as if he was wiping away tears. Ragatha's heart swelled at his sentiment.

"He doesn't want to hurt me either."

"And yet he does. Over and over." Kinger's grip tightens only slightly, with the intent to make her pay attention, "He doesn't even bother apologizing."

Ragatha sighed, tired, as her body went slack and limp while fully leaning against the large chess piece behind her. They have been over this countless times. It always played of similarly, but it always turned out to be a recurring theme.

"Kinger…" Ragatha took a breath to prepare for the conversation she was about to have, just as she does every few months, "We all do what we have to do."

"At what cost?" he challenged, "Is what we are doing really worth it?"

"I know it's less than ideal, King." Ragatha said, choosing to look at the chess piece's bed in the reflection of the mirror - it's been a while since she could look at the woman that stared back every time she looked into a mirror.

"You don't act like you know that."

"Because it's not how I'm supposed to act if we want this to work." Ragatha said sympathetically, ignoring how deranged she sound to herself. Nothing in the Circus was a choice.

It was a MUST.

"Kinger, this group is the longest we've ever had anyone stay with us." Ragatha spoke, minding her tone, "Isn't the proof in the product, despite the cost? We are all still here. We are all flawed and stressed and human. We combinded our strengths and we focus on the present, don't we? Look at where it brought us now, Kinger! We are still human. Everyone is still here."

Kinger's voice was deathly quiet, adorned with a somber tone, "Not everyone."

Ragatha wanted to counter him, but she couldn't look past the fact that he was right. She slumped forward as the king piece busied his hands to brush the scarlet locks of wool into order. At least as orderly as he could get them. They always had a mind of their own, even when Ragatha herself was the embodiment of the word, 'tame.' The doll sensed her dear friend's distress and jumped into her role to soothe the dangerous itch in his mind that caused Kinger to think too much.

Too far ahead.

Like Kaufmo did.

She reached over her shoulder to grab one of Kinger's hands and idly fiddle with his fingers while holding the hand in her lap. He didn't fight her, allowing her to express the dark depths of herself she could rarely show the others. Kinger had seen the entirety of Ragatha, just as she had seen the entirety of Kinger. Despite her role, the water spring, the sign of life and hope - the soothing cool caress of comfort in the scorching heat of the barren desert of a Circus, Ragatha's concern and fear laid deep beneath her glossy surface.

With Kinger, she could show herself from a different perspective and she knew that he wouldn't shy away or grow concerned. She was their comfort, just as she needed comfort.

He had seen it all, before any of them had seen the truth.

They lost someone.

Someone of value - someone that valued those who surrounded him. A keystone to the oasis. Gone. Ripped from their broken family that had it's faults, but still remained functional. Even if it was just barely.

"I wonder how Gangle is doing now that he is gone." Kinger said, lost in thought. Ragatha placed her blue ribbon into Kinger's hand, before letting it go and allowing him to pull it back. He began to section the wooly locks to tie the ribbon into it.

"I think she's okay for now, but I'm sure she is still in shock. Maybe she feels lost." Ragatha said, keeping her gaze low, not willing to look herself in the eye, "At least the newbie and her shenanigans are distracting her."

"I don't see how this will end well." Kinger said, worry evident in his voice, "I can't imagine what it must be like - knowing that you have a book with the answers of the world in the palm of your hand… but it's written in a language that you don't understand."

"Heh." Ragatha huffed, "He really had a way with his resources, didn't he?"

"What good is a looking glass without a pair of eyes to peer through them?"

"Ok, now you are just saying things to act smart!" Ragatha laughed, feeling the gentle tug of Kinger's hands working to tie the ribbon, completely leave her head. Kinger paused briefly, before he caved to laugh along with his friend.

"Maybe I am... maybe I'm not!"

Ragatha smiled incredulously, looking at his reflection before her, "She'll be ok. We will all be ok. We'll just take things slow and steady - one day at a time. Like we did in the old days."

"Please don't remind me of my age…" Kinger sighed.

"OUR age! I was there too, you know?"

She was there too.

She was there for a very long time. Of all of them, she was there the longest; by his side. She was the only one left since before the oasis began. Their bond never grew beyond friendship, but it was all they needed to remain together.

The king looked at the doll with a warm fondness that ached in his chest, "I know I'm not a good person for saying this… but… I'm so happy it was Kaufmo."

The doll's eyes widened with horror, but before she could even think to say anything, Kinger spoke again; his voice cracked and weary, "I don't want to lose you too."

The words died in Ragatha's throat.

In the blink of an eye, she jumped up and threw her arms around the freakishly tall chess piece. He was quick to reciprocate, but he broke into trembling sobs that were drowned by the plush of Ragatha's shoulder.

"Shhh, shhhh! It's ok. I'm not going anywhere." Ragatha said, trying her best to soothe her oldest friend.

"She promised me!" He said, his words so broken apart by his sobs, that Ragatha could barely understand him.

She promised.

"I know, King. I know." the doll said, numbing herself from the sympathy and empathy she felt, to prevent the tears from rushing down her cheeks too, "I can't make that same promise Queenie made to us."

Ragatha pulled away to hold onto her dear friend's face and look him in the eyes. He saw her's, set ablaze with a spark only she could possess. She was still as she set the world - her reality - aside, only to look him - straight at him.

Ragatha pulled him down, to kiss his forehead, then looked him in he eyes once again; speaking with an even tone she didn't even know that she possessed, "I can only promise you this."

To hell with hallucinations, Kinger thought to himself. He wanted to believe that there really was a woman in front of him. That there really was a friend about to make him a promise unlike the deceit that Queenie subjected him to. He wish he could hate her for leaving him behind, but he was too tired. He was too soft.

I loved her too much.

"What is it?" Kinger asked his friend, dreading the answer.

Ragatha swallowed back a wave of emotion that caused a stinging sensation behind her eyes, before she vowed to him,

"You'll go first, I promise."

Kinger stared down at her, as if challenging her to back out from her promise, but to his surprize, she didn't. She matched his gaze and stood her ground.

He really was a bad person.

Because a wave of relief crashed over him, forcing him to his knees. The chess piece clutched her skirts as he hid his face in her chest, like a child, but the doll stood firmly with her feet rooted to the floor, finally allowing the tears to flow down her cheeks.

Her voice was still and steady as ever;

"I'll be right here with you, until you go first."

Fan art/comic related to this story: (CLICK HERE TO SEE)

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