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Pomni runs her hand through her girlfriend’s hair, twirling it around a finger.
They decided to picnic in Shrimptown at Kinger’s suggestion. It’s a world Caine’s only used a few times, and it isn’t anyone’s particular favorite, so he doesn’t usually keep it open. Caine’s promise still holds; he says this is just to preserve processing power. Big red buttons are scattered around the circus, ready to start up the less popular worlds on command. Each has a neon sign above it indicating which world it opens. No one’s quite sure what else they expected when Caine said he’d “figure something out” about the worlds people visit less often.
The NPCs are… not great. But they’re not here for the shrimp. They’re here for the relatively warm weather, the endless twilight, and the hill overlooking the castle.
Pomni swears she’s seen this place before.
Ragatha sighs contentedly. “This is nice. Thanks for setting all this up, Pom-Pom.”
Pomni takes her hand and kisses it, making red stitches pop up across Ragatha’s cheeks. “Happy anniversary, Raggy. Here’s to five more years of being the happiest woman in the Circus.”
Ragatha smiles back at her, bright and clear. “You’ve got some tough competition from me, baby.” They both laugh and gaze out over the countryside.
Ragatha breaks the silence after a while. “I can’t even remember the last time I was here.” She props her head on her hand and stares out at the village. “Gosh, I think it was before Gangle was even here. I think we were rebuilding the castle?” She shrugs, and something clicks in Pomni’s head. It seems familiar, but she can’t quite place it.
She shakes it off. It’s not important, anyway. Today is about her and Ragatha. Kinger was so sweet about the whole thing. He prepared their food—sure, Pomni can conjure just fine, but Kinger is both eager to support them and better at creating things, so his sandwiches taste better—and suggested Shrimptown as a relatively peaceful world where the NPCs would keep to themselves.
That doesn’t mean she’s just relying on him, though. Pomni conjures a rose and presents it to Ragatha, whose blush stitches come back in full force. “You’re so sweet, you know that?” Ragatha kisses her, warm and full, and Pomni leans into it. They separate after a long moment, and Ragatha looks at her like she hung the stars in the sky. “I love you, Pomni.”
She smiles and takes Ragatha’s hand. “I love you too, Ragatha.” She looks out over the hill, leaning her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder. Ragatha makes her happy in a way that very few people ever have. Hell, Ragatha is one of the few people she’s ever felt comfortable letting touch her.
Something buried deep in her memories tells her she’s been here before, but she knows that’s not actually true. And honestly, she’s annoyed that her mind keeps wandering.
She keeps looking back to the past. All she really wants to do is look forward.
Or, she thinks, to the side.
Fireflies twinkle in the distance, and Pomni pulls a bottle of wine out of the picnic basket of seemingly endless volume and pours a glass for herself and Ragatha.
They toast, and drink. They can’t really get drunk off it—every agreed to limit that to Zooble's drinks and Stupid Sauce—but she can hardly tell the wine’s not real.
She’s been here for years, but she still doesn’t quite understand how senses work. She knows that Ragatha is made of fabric and stuffing, but she feels like everyone else—the way people feel in Pomni’s memories, even though the sense memory is fading.
Ragatha’s hair smells of strawberries and the outdoors and yarn. It’s a combination that has somehow become associated with some of the happiest moments in her life.
Ragatha leans her head on top of Pomni’s and closes her eye, smiling.
She could sit here forever.
The two sit in silence, watching the village below in the perpetual sunset. Beyond it, the castle has crumbled slightly, and a few NPCs are working to repair it. Life, or the world’s simulacrum of it, goes on.
Eventually, Ragatha sighs and plants a kiss on Pomni’s head. “You make me so happy, Pomni. Gosh, I wish I could marry you.”
Pomni turns to look at her, deeply confused. “What do you mean?”
Ragatha starts to backpedal before catching herself and taking a deep breath. “I mean, even if you wanted to, which I shouldn’t assume, it’s not like we could…”
Pomni takes her hand, and Ragatha relaxes slightly. Pomni’s proud of the minimal amount of catastrophizing. It’s been a lot of work. “What do you mean, Raggy? I’d love to marry you.”
Ragatha blushes. “I… I love you, Pomni. I really wish we could.”
Pomni’s confusion has not faded. “Why… can’t we?”
It’s Ragatha’s turn to look confused. “Pomni, we’re both women. That’s… illegal.”
Pomni opens her mouth, then closes it, then opens it again. Then closes it again. “Right, you’ve…” She tries to figure out the right way to present this information. “Ragatha, I’m pretty sure the laws of the physical world don’t really apply to us here.”
Ragatha blinks a few times, apparently realizing this for the first time. “Oh. …right.”
“And also, it’s legal now.”
“What?!”
Pomni laughs. “Yeah, it was legalized nationwide… I don’t know, two years before I got here?”
“And you’re just telling me this now?!” Ragatha looks around the picnic blanket in a panic. “I don’t—I just—” She gestures haphazardly, and a box appears above her hand, hanging in the air for a split second before falling onto it with a soft thud. It opens towards her, and her eye goes wide. “Oh, I…” She shakes her head and turns the box around. “Pomni, will you marry me?”
Pomni looks at her, then at the box. A grin creeps across her face. “Baby, did you just accidentally conjure an engagement ring at the mere suggestion that we could get married?” Ragatha starts to blush, and Pomni kisses her before she can get too embarrassed. “Of course I’ll marry you, baby. I’ll marry you any day.” She holds her hand out, and Ragatha, blush stitched across her entire face, carefully takes the ring from the box and places it on Pomni’s finger.
They kiss again, and Pomni pulls back after a moment. She looks at Ragatha’s hands. “I… I’d offer you a ring too, but, uh.”
Ragatha looks down, and her face falls. “Oh. Yeah. I…”
“Actually…” Pomni claps her hands together and a ring appears, threaded through a loop of string. She holds it up to Ragatha, and she lowers her head and blushes as Pomni places it around her neck. “We can figure it out. Like we always do.”
Ragatha pulls her into a hug. “I love you so much, baby.”
Pomni holds her tight. “Love you too.”
After a long moment, Pomni pulls back, her smile as wide as her face. “So, when do you want to get married?”
“How soon can we?”
“I mean…” Pomni looks down the hill. “Do you really want to get married in Shrimptown?”
Ragatha laughs. “I guess not.”