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Gangle opened her eyes in resignation and silently groaned at the sudden bout of insomnia. For a fruitless while more, she tossed and turned on the bed, trying to angle herself in a way that felt comfortable. Despite it long having been the designated time everyone usually slept, the previous adventure insisted on still plaguing her thoughts: as if it were some tireless “Spudsy mascot”-faced fly adamant on buzzing away in her head.
Some hours ago prior, after Caine had given Gangle her grade- the result of a stupid idea she came up with to motivate the others- Jax- into actually working, Gangle had kept to a corner by herself instead of grouping at the sofas like usual with everyone else. Sulking pathetically at the thought of having ruined everything, both the adventure and also her relationships with the others, she’d thought it’d be better if she distanced herself: at least for a while.
During the adventure, it’d dawned on her early into the first shift that the new mask wasn’t going to be a magical fix for her problems. Rather than simply making her mentally normal, she’d felt the creeping signs of an episode. However, she’d still chosen to keep wearing it, because she knew she wouldn’t be able to work as expected with the tragedy mask. Even if the new mask wasn’t perfect, it was still bound to be better than her usual self right?
Normally, her tragedy mask made her numbly despondent and easy to cry. It wasn’t pleasant feeling like that constantly, and Jax had called her a crybaby on numerous occasions; it’s not like he was wrong. While wearing the “Spudsy’” mask- she might as well call it that- Gangle didn’t feel deprived of the energy that usually evaded her, and she became more proactive about fixing herself. It gave her enough drive to take actions she normally wouldn’t, but it turned out said actions made her rather unlikeable to her friends. Thus, did the Spudsy adventure turn into an emotional train wreck of a disaster.
After the adventure ended, Zooble, caring for her far more than anyone ought to, had managed to convince her to join the others back on the couch. It was a bit awkward, but thankfully it seemed that Jax had already moved on from what happened. Meanwhile, Ragatha was still dazed and out of it. Kinger, who didn’t go on the adventure with everyone else, was doing… uh.. something: she wasn’t really able to comprehend it. And lastly Pomni, who had kindly taken over Gangle’s closing shift, was now back and contentedly in her own space.
Gangle wanted to thank Pomni, and then most importantly apologize to her about how she treated the petite jester during the altercation with Gummigoo. After she had brought it up, Pomni showed a sort of bittersweet look; though it didn’t seem to be directed at anyone in particular, but rather seemed internally reflective. Realizing Gangle was staring at her, Pomni frantically adjusted herself and promptly gave a light, but genuine smile: assuredly saying that she had found the time to say goodbye, and that it was alright. Gangle didn’t press further and sat down to resume drawing, grateful she didn’t completely ruin Pomni’s chance to reconcile with him.
Right…things didn’t turn out as bad as she thought they’d be. The remainder of the time she spent afterwards before retiring to her room were with Zooble, making small talk and passively passing the hours together. During which, she had even managed to sketch something that she ended up being quite proud of: a page of Pomni, Zooble, and herself sharing a table at the restaurant together. Right, so if everything was alright, then why-
why the hell was she still so restless right now?
Gangle decided to forgo sleep and got up to go to her desk. She flipped to an empty page on the sketchbook and scribbled sketches in frustration. Drawing helped clear her mind sometimes, and if nothing else, it was a good source of venting. It was as decent of a healthy coping mechanism she could possibly have here. As she doodled, she let her mind wander, and it eventually landed back to when Caine was assessing her performance. He had said something along the lines of “running onto incoming traffic” then. The wording had made her painfully aware of what she had just done. Cracking under the pressure, like always. As for the reason why Gangle had done it, that wasn’t something she completely understood herself. Maybe it was the side effects of taking off the mask…
She ran to and under the lamp post, guided by its personal spotlight, feeling both relief and euphoria wash over her. Her body felt light, unburdened and finally not weighed down by the plastic mask. Like fragile and weak ribbons, she could drift and fall gently down.
Haha. Somehow, she had lost her balance and really did fall: onto the roads and into an oncoming truck. How careless. If not for the rules of the digital circus, she’d most likely be dead from pulling a stunt like that. At the very best, she’d be in the hospital: critically injured and ashamed.
Falling, tripping, whatever one wanted to call it- it wasn’t like she was entirely oblivious that there might be cars ahead that could hit her. But it also wasn’t like she was expecting the truck to be coming either. That moment where she got to be by herself and unadorned of the heavy mask- she’d hoped it would stay like that. Just herself- happy, sad, whatever she felt- in that moment. But life moves on, even in a place akin to colorful, abstract purgatory.
She guessed it didn’t matter too much whether it was intentional or not. Or maybe it did, she wouldn’t know. Back in her old life, she had some moments similar to this. Albeit it never got as far as it did at Spudsys, since in the real world there was no godly anthropomorphic denture to magically whisk one away to safety from oncoming vehicles. Even so, it felt like her heart had stopped when she saw those blinding lights coming for her. It had happened so suddenly she’d forgotten no one could really die here. At least now, she could say that she’d regret it. There were still hobbies she loved and people that cared for her: that she also cared for.
Gangle felt herself yawning as she set aside the sketchpad. She didn’t draw anything worth continuing later, but that’s okay: since these sketches were just meant to clear her head anyways. Softly, she climbed back onto the bed and shut her eyes, drawing her ribbon body into itself as she let sleep take her. It was worth it to continue living. At least for now, it was worth it.