Chapter Text
Ragatha is not allowed to hate her body, because Zooble has it worse. No one would ever say it—well, except Jax, but she’s an asshole—but Ragatha knows. It would be wrong to complain.
She actually likes Zooble’s body though. It's sleek and shiny. Unlike hers; a raggedy doll to be tossed in the garage sale discount bin. She wants to run her fingers down their chest. Feel the smoothness of them. What did it feel like, for them? How did they like to be touched?
Her digital body would have given her mother a conniption. A manicured finger stabbing against her belly, arms, and thighs: soft, far too soft. Darling, it's like you don't even care.
No one at the circus cares about the softness of her body, not even Jax. She used to think they were just being polite, but maybe it’s just another thing her mom was wrong about.
Zooble has different reasons for hating their body. She doesn't think telling them how much she likes their form would fix anything, anymore than it would fix her to hear the same from them.
But she kind of wishes they could try it together, just to see.