pedalbike | 2nd Event: Choices We Make

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2nd Event: Choices We Make

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Arrival

Not all characters (known as Wickie, singular or Wickies, plural) arrive at the same time, surprisingly enough! That’s life for you. Some Wickies find their way to the island at a pivotal (or very mundane) point in their life, or even after or during their death.

Wickies who were standing or walking often find themselves entering the town South Sister, located on Lighthouse Isle, through an open doorway. Those that were laying down, or sleeping, tend to be found lying prone in beds, bathtubs, showers, couches, and similar places within the cottages on Cottage Row. There’s no rhyme or reason to it all! To Wickies familiar with the era, they will realize that everything looks as if it’s come from the ‘90s.

The house which a Wickie finds themselves within could already be occupied. This includes walking into a fellow Wicke, waking up in the same location, or accidentally scaring a room full of people with their sudden appearance.

Oops.

C-C-Changes

Thankfully the fog has gone down to what it was before, a slow creeping crawl over the ground. And too, the monsters of before are gone, leaving the town much like it was before. Well...close to what it was before.

For now the season's have changed, from a lingering summer to a cooler fall.

There’s new foods to try, even if some things like lattes cause people to slip into warm boots and tie up their hair, and soups make people curl up under blankets on the couch. And it also means decorations of all sorts, made of the leaves from the forest, orange, yellow and red things and...we can not forget...

Pumpkin overflow

Pumpkins! They're everywhere. Wickies will find pumpkins infused into all sorts of things, like coffee, ice cream, even spaghetti options! It's wild.

There’s also many jack o'lanterns. They have been placed everywhere in town, outside homes, and even small ones have been made into table decorations. The Jack o lanterns have very cheerful faces, and seem to watch Wickies every single move.

That is, until a Wickie bashes or otherwise abuses a pumpkin. That's when it changes- there seem to be more of them. Their expressions change to that of anger, sadness and disgust. None of them attack- yet. But their faces become more and more horrifying, as they follow the Wickie more and more- outside of the bathroom perhaps, or found on top of them as the Wickie wakes up in the middle of the night.

It shouldn't matter right? They're only pumpkins.

What a ride

Funny enough, with the pumpkin invasion, there also comes a dull colored horse wandering about the island. Its head is drooped, and it looks depressed and lonely. The horse is tame on approach and will accept pats and treats, even from those who are obviously not human.

But it also wants something, for all that it seems to be begging for attention. It wants someone to ride them, seems to even be begging for it with its big eyes. The horse will help Wickies to figure out how to mount; it will even stand beside the Town Center benches, rocks, or even go down in order to make it possible for the Wickie to get onto the horse’s back.

That’s when it changes. The Wickie is immediately wrapped in chains from their barrel to the Wickie’s waist. The horse turns a coal black and the Wickie’s clothing changes into that of a soldier's uniform, with a hand either holding a whip modeled after a human spine, or a jack o'lantern.

The Wickie cannot get off the horse on their own, no matter how much they struggle. As the horse moves throughout the town, they will go anywhere from a walk to a full canter, seemingly impervious to any magic or physical attacks. The same cannot be said for their unfortunate rider.

If the rider is hit, or simply in pain, the Wickie will feel an impulse that grows and grows until they scream a name of someone in town, someone they know.

And the named will drop, paralyzed. Paralyzed wickie are likely to die within minutes, more so if they are too close to horse and rider. The horse will happily trample anyone on the ground to death.

Even without the impulse, should the Wickie rider use anyone’s name, that person will drop, paralyzed, and unable to breathe.

There is only one way to possibly save the rider: scatter golden objects in their path. The horse will shriek, and promptly buck the rider off, before running away. Just make sure to catch the rider, or at least cushion their fall: they have no way of saving themselves until they hit the ground.

Heart game: confession

Current residents of the island may remember this particular beeping alert, and how it doesn’t go away, no matter what they do! That is, unless they open up the Heart Game, and answer the question.

Welcome back everyone! It’s so good to see you again! Now let’s play that game, Confession! And the question isssssss…

How do you celebrate the changing seasons! Don't be shy!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ She follows Catra, step for step, always staying within arm's reach. Maybe she should be giving her more space, but she's terrified of letting her slip away again. ]

It's not doing anything to me. [ Well. ] Nothing bad, anyway. It might look that way to you, but it isn't.

[ Her shoulders sag, and while it's not enough to make her look small, it adds to the pleading look on her face. ]

I know the Horde says that Princesses are evil, and all they do is hurt people, but can't you trust me? Not the sword, or Shadow Weaver, or anything else. [ Just her. ] Please, Catra.

'Nothing bad'? [There is no shortage of disbelief in Catra's tone, but she does stop backing away, finally.] Look at yourself, Adora! This isn't -- this isn't you.

[Adora doesn't tower over Catra. Her hair doesn't blow in a non-existent wind, and she doesn't wear a tiara, and she doesn't. glow.]

Of course I trust you, but this is crazy. [Adora's pleading look - so weird and out of place on such a towering figure - is matched with Catra's own.] You're not magic, Adora. That sword, it's -- infecting you, or something. You've got to get rid of it.

[Please.]

[ It's — something. More than she expected, less than she hoped. Catra is at least talking to her, not running away, even if she still sounds panicked. And how can Adora blame her? She remembers how she reacted the first time she touched the sword, how long it took her to come to terms with what was happening to her, and that was with Bow and Glimmer's help. Catra has Adora, and Adora... isn't the best at explanations, especially when there's only so much she can actually say. ]

... If I drop the sword, will that help? [ A snap decision, one that yet again goes against everything her head is telling her. If she puts the sword down, Catra can pick it up. If Catra picks it up... no. No, if Adora wants her trust, she can't think like that anymore. ] Here, look. I'm putting it down.

[ Bending down, she places it on the ground between them, then holds out both her hands; showing Catra that they're empty. Larger than they should be, if they were Adora's own, but empty. ]

See? Still a Princess. [ Still She-Ra. ] I'll turn back, but not until you stop freaking out. You need to accept this. We both do.

[Catra watches, every muscle in her body tensed, as the giant her best friend's become bends and places the sword on the ground. It's buried in the fog immediately, its blue glow shining eerily through.

The moment Adora's hands are raised, Catra steps forward -- and kicks the sword, sending it skittering away on the paved road.

It doesn't make a bit of difference.]

I'm not freaking out! [Her traitor tail is bushed, and the fur on her hackles is completely raised, and her hair has risen and her voice has pitched up--- okay, maybe she's freaking out a little.] --And why are you so okay with this?! You've been gone for -- for a day, and now you've found a freaky sword that talks to you and turns you into this?!

[do you understand where she's coming from, adora.]

[ She grimaces as the sword slides away, out of her reach for now — and out of Catra's. ] I know, okay? Really. I do.

[ It's just hard to undo a year's worth of acceptance; to act how she did back then, when she's long since come to accept She-Ra as part of her. She's already dancing around one truth, and she's a bad liar at the best of times, something she knows must be making her look suspicious. ]

But I'm the one this is happening to. Don't I get a say in whether or not it's a bad thing? [ But then, what Adora wants has never mattered, not even to herself. She tries to appeal to Catra's logical side instead. ] All it's done is make me stronger, Catra. Think about it. I can protect you.

[ Properly, this time. From Shadow Weaver, and from the Horde, and... from herself, with the knowledge of how Catra really feels about their relationship. ]

[Well... yeah, Adora gets a say in whether or not it's a bad thing. But she's decided wrongly on it, because it's obviously bad. There is something in her head, and it is literally changing her body, and Adora is just okay with that?

But, hey, good news. If the intention was to make Catra incredulous instead of worried, it worked.]

Protect me? From what? [Her offense isn't as vitriolic as it was in the Crystal Castle. This Catra is still used to having Adora's eyes looking out for her, and to always having Adora at her back.

It's galling, though, to have Adora speak about it outright. It's an open secret, everybody knows how protective they are of each-other. But it's not the sort of thing you say, or call attention to.

Though... the idea of having the obvious strength of this giant on their side is an appealing idea. There's just one problem:]

How you do think we'd even hide this? They're not gonna let a... [she's not a Princess. She's not.] ...eight foot glowing woman lead a squad, Adora. What good's any boost it gives you if we can't even use it?

[ From everything, Adora wants to say. But there it is. She knew this would happen sooner or later, that Catra would eventually loop back around to her original goal of returning her to the Horde — but no matter what, she's not going back. The only question is whether or not Catra will be at her side this time, because Adora isn't changing her decision. ]

We don't have to hide it. Because... [ This is her one chance. Her one chance to fix what she did at Thaymor. ] Because we're not going back to the Horde.

[ We. Not just Adora. Not her accusing Catra of overlooking how evil they were, of being okay with Shadow Weaver's manipulations. They can both leave, the way they should have a long time ago, if Adora wasn't too stupid (and deliberately blind) to see the truth. ]

The Horde hurts people, Catra. They've hurt us. [ And they're going to keep on hurting Catra, if she goes back. ] This is our chance to get away from all of that. We can join the Rebellion, together, and never have to see Shadow Weaver's stupid face again. Or... her mask, I guess.

[ Adora shudders at the memory of what they'd seen as kids, in the Black Garnet Chamber. How hadn't she understood then? She'd heard Shadow Weaver threaten to dispose of Catra, right in front of her. It doesn't matter that she was a child — she should have done something more than just beg her to stop, like a coward.

But she was scared, too. Scared of angering Shadow Weaver, of losing Catra for good. She would have been fine with being hurt instead (preferred it, even, to take all Catra's suffering on herself), but Shadow Weaver never made things that easy; knowing that anything inflicted on Catra would push Adora twice as hard to be better next time. And Adora had excused it, the way she always did, because Shadow Weaver was only punishing them for breaking the rules. It was their own fault. Her own fault. ]

[That should be the biggest, most glaring red flag of them all. Adora, Shadow Weaver's perfect Adora, suggesting outright defection from the Horde. It's something Catra's considered before, on particularly bitter days when her body aches with exertion and snapped reprimands ring in her ears, but the urge to snatch up what rations she can find and disappear out into the world has always dissipated with the knowledge that Adora would never even consider leaving. She was too dedicated to the cause, too loyal to Shadow Weaver for desertion to ever be an option on the table for them.

Except, now it is.

...But it's only there because of that sword. The one that Catra knows, for sure, is affecting her.]

I... [She shouldn't want, as much as she does, to take it. To snatch up Adora's offer quickly and greedily, before she can come to her senses and recant it. She should be shutting her down, dismissing what is obviously the sword's influence on her and bringing her back to the Fright Zone immediately for treatment.

Instead, she's meeting Adora's bright eyes; searching them with her own, still stunned and reeling. After an entire lifetime of talking her up, defending her, praising her wisdom and scolding Catra for being disrespectful towards her--]

...Did you just admit Shadow Weaver's stupid?

Edited 2020-09-27 16:40 (UTC)

[ Oh. Right. Catra's last memory — and a lot of other ones, too — involving her and Shadow Weaver would have been of Adora sucking up after training. Not that Adora ever saw it that way, but she knows Catra did... and maybe she was right. Adora cared so much about becoming Force Captain, of having the power to protect everyone, that she let ambition blind her to the person already suffering right next to her. ]

Yeah. Yeah, I did. [ She laughs, a mixture of nervousness and relief bubbling to the surface. Even with her comments to Bow and Glimmer, she's never outright insulted Shadow Weaver before, and: ] Wow, it feels good to say that.

[ Good enough that she's going to say it again. ]

Shadow Weaver is stupid. And a lot of other things, too. Getting out of the Fright Zone really put it all in perspective. [ Great acting, Adora. Not suspicious in the slightest to come to that realization in one day. ] So why go back? I know you don't like her either.

[Oh, this is definitely a problem. No way ever would Adora agree with Catra on Shadow Weaver. If there was any doubt before - which there wasn't - this seals it. Adora needs help.

Buuuut... there's no reason why Catra can't be the one who helps her, right? Shadow Weaver can't be the only creepy sorceress with a penchant for messing up people's minds out there. Catra will just find them another one, and by the time that happens maybe Adora really will have gotten used to how terrible Shadow Weaver is.

Despite herself, Catra's tail is lifting from its harried position. No matter the circumstances, hearing Adora agree with her about Shadow Weaver feels good. Now that Adora's finally seeing things her way, is she really going to force them both to go back?

There's still, Adora's mental wellbeing aside, one big problem:]

Shadow Weaver's not going to let you get away that easily. [And Catra sounds. Just a little resentful. As much as she hopes otherwise, she knows that if it's just her who disappears, it'll probably be weeks before Shadow Weaver even notices.] She's tracking you already. That's how we found you. Even if we go and hide out with the rebels [which -- ha! -- no. They're not doing that. That's where Catra's drawing the line on Adora's delusions.], it won't take long before she sends another squad out after you.

[And Catra knows exactly what their orders will look like. They'll be instructed to bring Adora - just Adora - home, no matter the cost. It's safer for them, for Catra, to go back now, rather than wait for that to happen.]

They're gonna keep coming, Adora. Shadow Weaver is freaking out about this little trip of yours, and she's not gonna stop just because you've decided you don't wanna go home.

[ Adora shrugs, still seeming way too nonchalant about the whole thing. She can feel Catra coming around to the idea, despite her protests, and that hope isn't something she can just push down. ]

I know she won't just let me go, Catra. [ I've already beaten her once, she wants to say, even though that wasn't the real thing, just her shadow puppets pursuing Adora to the ends of Etheria. She doesn't know how she'd fare against the real Shadow Weaver and all her magic, but she's willing to give it a try; especially with Catra's help, this time. ] That's why we're going to the Rebellion. They've been fighting the Horde for a long time, and they're good at it.

[ ... Sort of. Sometimes. Not that "the Rebellion" was even a thing, then, outside of a few scattered groups. Until She-Ra showed up, it was every Princess for themselves and their own kingdom, with only Glimmer making an effort to bring everyone together — but she's counting on Catra buying the idea of some united front. ]

Think about it. I'm a Princess, so they'll have to let me in. And where I go, you go. [ You'd think she'd have learned by now not to imply that Catra needs to follow after her like some kind of pet, but hey! That's Adora for you! ] Even if they don't [ which she's only saying because she knows they will, ], the two of us can figure something out. What's Shadow Weaver going to do against this? [ She gestures down at herself — all eight feet of her. ] I can take on a squad, no problem.

[This is all sounding very pre-planned. Adora does have a tendency to over-think and over-strategize for every drill and evaluation, and she has been out here all day and night without Catra to distract her, so it's reasonably likely that there were fifty other assorted plans before this one and that Catra is now just receiving the final, polished version. So it's suspicious, but no more than literally everything else Adora's come out with in the last few minutes.

Catra's not convinced of Adora's ability to take on an entire squadron though, or of her claim to suddenly be a Princess, and she scoffs. At least right now, in this point of her life, she is used to being Adora's shadow. 'Where you go, I go' is right - except for when Adora takes off in the middle of the night without her.

Yeah, she's still sore about that.]

You're not a Princess. [How many times is she going to have to reiterate that? Catra misses her Adora already. The one that's a normal height, and who has a ponytail Catra can pull on when she's being stupid.] You don't even have any magic powers. What're you gonna do, flex at Shadow Weaver until she lets you go?

[She's getting agitated again, too many absurdities piling up. It'd be easier to accept it if Adora were suggesting the two of them go off on their own, but she's not. For whatever reason, she's stubbornly stuck on the idea of sucking up to their enemy instead.]

What about being Force Captain? Adora, we've worked our whole lives [so many days of endless training and tests, enduring life in the Fright Zone because their goal, together, is to rise up and lead the Horde] for this, and we're finally getting somewhere. You really want us to just -- throw it all away, and go join the losers?

Edited 2020-09-29 13:02 (UTC)

I do so have magic powers! [ She protests, wondering why it suddenly matters to her. (Obvious answer: because it's Catra saying that she doesn't, and Adora always gets competitive when Catra is involved.) ] Just look at me. I can punch things way better like this.

I mean, I was already good at punching, but— watch.

[ To demonstrate, she takes a few steps back, gets down on one knee, and smashes her fist into the ground. It leaves a crater far larger than just the initial impact zone around her knuckles, huge cracks fanning out for at least a foot in every direction, and Adora raises her hand to show the complete lack of damage to herself. ]

It's not worth it, Catra. [ The suffering, the pain... the whole actually being evil thing, but she knows that doesn't have the same shock value to Catra as it did to her. Maybe they could change the Horde from within, eventually, but it would take too long. Adora can't go back to being a part of that terrible machine. ] We'll still have to take orders from Shadow Weaver. From Hordak. It could be years until we're in charge. Do you really want to go back to that?

[Probably the wrong thing to do when Adora insists on having magic powers is give her an unconvinced uh huh, because by the time Catra's opened her mouth to deliver a snide remark about punching not exactly making her special, Adora's on one knee; and then the ground is exploding around her fist, and. Well.

Catra's not proud of how she's wound up on a roof, fluffed out and bristling, and if a single other person has witnessed this then she's absolutely going to murder Adora.

(At least she can stretch out a leg behind her and kick off the lantern that she can feel grinning at her.)]

Of course I don't wanna go back to that, I never wanted to do it to begin with! [Don't mind the indignant pitch of her tone, Catra's just got to channel the someone just punched a crater into where I was standing adrenaline somewhere. (Never mind that Adora was a few feet away. The ground Catra was standing on still has a crack in it, that's enough for her.) Everything they've been taught about Princesses is firing rapidly through her mind. They're out of control, they abuse their powers recklessly, stay with your squad because if you come across one in the field, your only chance is to overwhelm them with numbers. According to their training, Catra should fall back and regroup before the Princess' wild magic eviscerates her.

She definitely shouldn't be scowling down at her with her bushed tail lashing in agitation.]

Why now, Adora? We could've gotten out of there years ago if that was what you really wanted. And why the Rebellion? Is this all stuff your dinky little sword told you to do?

Edited 2020-09-30 06:07 (UTC)

[ Catra's reaction is expected, but what hurts are her words. I never wanted to do it to begin with, and yet Adora, who had, was the one who up and left her behind there. She liked taking orders, knowing she was accomplishing something, meeting others' expectations, and it was only when she discovered that those orders were hurting people that she finally stopped. (Of course, all she's done is trade one leadership structure for another, but the Rebellion is good. It has to be. They're kind, and they listen, and they'd never do the things Shadow Weaver did to both of them.) ]

Yes... and no. [ How does she even explain this? She decides to tell the truth, and just leave out everything involving Bow and Glimmer. ] After I found the sword, I ended up in Thaymor. You know, the village we were supposed to attack? [ That Adora was going to lead the charge against, and that part still makes a lump rise in her throat, imagining herself driving a tank and blasting apart homes— ] I couldn't do it. They weren't insurgents, they were civilians. The Horde just wanted their land for resources, and because it was so close to Bright Moon.

[ She's still kneeling when she holds her hands out plaintively, trying to make herself look less — everything, which loses some impact when she's still kneeling next to a crater she just put in the ground. ]

... I really thought we were doing the right thing. That Shadow Weaver cared about me — about us. That's why I stayed. [ Which she knows makes her sound stupid, and risks making Catra angry again, but she's already risking that with her 'sudden' change of heart. She has to at least explain why she's having it. ] The Rebellion is our best chance to fix all of this. Even if we could get by on our own, I don't want to run away. I want to help save Etheria.

[ And you, she adds silently, but she already knows what takes priority if she has to choose. That's what makes this next part a lie; because she's done it before, will do it again, if Catra doesn't agree, but the selfish part of herself that she denies, denies, denies, is desperate enough to try, one last time, painting it as all for Catra's sake. ]

But I can't do it alone. You're my friend, and I... I need you. [ She doesn't. She just wants her. ] So please... come with me?

[How is it a yes and a no? Either the sword told her, or it didn't. And now on top of giving her super-punching powers, it also supposedly took her all the way to Thaymor?

Catra spares the glowing fog that blankets the sword enough time for a distrustful glance.]

Of course Shadow Weaver cares about you. [Oh she's bitter. Very, very bitter; moreso because of the fact that Adora is now trying to act like she's spurning the same favour Catra's been yearning for her whole life.] You've always been her favourite. You think she'd bother tracking down anyone else?

[Adora's not even that great at things. She's just gullible, and Shadow Weaver loves an idiot who takes orders at face value. Like, seriously -- all Adora had to do was look at a map and think about it for two seconds. Heck, if she'd asked for her input, Catra could've pointed out why the Horde actually wanted Thaymor.

The only thing she's not been wrong about in all of this is that she needs Catra, because that's become pretty obvious. Look at her. It hasn't even been a full day, and without Catra she's 1) found a magic sword; 2) become possessed by its power; 3) listened to its instructions; 4) let it make her think she's a Princess; 5) decided to upend her entire life and turn traitor to the Horde; 6) decided that the Rebellion is the logical place to turn to; 7) thinks that the rebels won't just attack them on sight; 8) hasn't even considered the likelihood that they'll be assumed to be spies; 9) probably hasn't actually realized the lengths Shadow Weaver will go to to get her back; 10) is totally fine with the whole 'Princess' thing.

So, yeah. Adora definitely needs Catra, that's not in question. And... okay, Catra would absolutely be lying if she said that the thought of Shadow Weaver's face when she realizes her precious Adora's defected doesn't fill her with vicious glee.

In the end she groans, slumping dramatically on the roof.]

Fine. But I choose the next plan. [When this one inevitably goes south. Catra's going to pretend that the sick feeling of dread in her stomach is something other than fear, knowing how quickly they're going to die when they come up against a real, actual Princess. At least then Adora will see how wrong she is about herself.]

Now get up, would you? You look like an idiot kneeling down there.

[ She hates hearing the bitterness in Catra's tone, even if it's painfully familiar. Adora could argue that she didn't understand, that she always tried to make Shadow Weaver acknowledge Catra's accomplishments, too. The same argument that got her absolutely nowhere in the Crystal Castle. (It's true, though. She didn't want to be Shadow Weaver's favourite, she had to be, when she knew the price of not meeting those standards.)

Or, she could focus on what she wants to hear, which is Catra agreeing. Not just about the Horde being evil, which was only ever news to Adora, but to come with her, away from it all. To trust Adora more than the only life she's ever known, all because she asked.

I know you're not a bad person, Catra. ]

You really mean it?

[ This still feels wrong, the way things with an air of Shadow Weaver about them always do, but like Catra, she's stubborn enough to forge ahead regardless. Even in the middle of a war, nothing could truly make her give up on winning Catra over... at least, short of a reality destroying portal being set off, and what are the odds of one of those existing?

She-Ra's body or not, the way her eyes sparkle is all Adora, and so is the way she almost trips over her own feet in her sudden rush to follow orders and stand. She waits near the roof with both hands on her hips, beaming up at Catra from below. ]

Okay, okay. You get to be in charge next time. Promise. [ She can have the next plan, and the one after that, and as many as she needs. Catra's plans are usually the opposite of Adora's, and maybe she should be wary of making fresh promises, but it's fine. Adora trusts her, too giddy with relief to pay attention to the warnings carved into her own body of why she shouldn't. ] Hey. Before I go back to being me, you should come and take a closer look at all of this. I know you're curious.

[ It's important that Catra gets used to She-Ra, for... tactical reasons. Maybe she'll like her now that they're on the same side, and no matter how hard Adora tries to temper her expectations, she can't help feeling hope at the idea of She-Ra being a source of comfort for Catra, not resentment. ]

Of course I mean it. Who else is going to look out for you out here? You said it yourself: you need me.

[It's easy to say it now, when she's still confident in their friendship. She'll be holding that over Adora's head for a long time. And though Catra's relatively comfortable up here on the roof, she still tenses as Adora's oversized self approaches; and then relaxes again with a snort when the idiot beams up at her, her cape flapping in a nonexistent wind.]

Please. I can see how dorky you are just fine from up here. [Also, not that she doesn't trust Adora, but Catra's always going to feel better when she's the one with the height advantage.

That's not to say that she's not leaning off the roof, balancing precariously near the gutter in a crouch to look Adora over. Under the guise of just watching her normally, of course. Catra won't be caught dead actually doing what Adora's told her to, even if it's obvious she is when her lips quirk and her sharp fangs slip through her teasing smirk.] You pick that tiara out all on your own?

[Actually, she should thank Adora for urging her to take a better look. There's enough here to make fun of her with for years.]

[ Adora rolls her eyes, letting out a mock-annoyed huff. ]

Obviously not. [ What is it with Catra and bullying her about the tiara? She knows why, of course — it's the last thing she'd ever wear over more practical options like a helmet, or sticking with her hair poof. But it's still mean to point out the obvious, as if Catra can't figure out the answer already. ] The first time I used the sword, all of this just... happened. I didn't choose anything.

[ Talk about an understatement. Adora wishes she had a better explanation, even for her own sake. She's spent a year surrounded by magic, years more training to counter it in the Horde, but some things, she's just had to accept as beyond her understanding. Why She-Ra needs a tiara is one of those. Why she can't have pants is another. ]

But... [ She flexes an exposed beefy arm, her goofy smile transforming into more of an I know you like me smirk, complete with a cocky wink. ] I can think of one good part about the new look.

[ Because Catra does still like her, as a friend, if she's willing to follow her into the light instead of retreating back into the comforting dark. Adora's just glad for the chance to be a better friend to Catra, this time; masking her true thoughts behind familiar banter. ]

[Well, the sword didn't sap all the 'Adora' out of Adora, that's for sure. She's still got her dumb cocky grin and showboating tendencies, even if she's apparently stuck with the shorts. (Which is just, such a weird concept. Adora's been in pants since pretty much forever, and don't even start Catra on the amount of times she's teased Adora about her ever-present ponytail and hairpoof. Figures it'd take a ~magical transformation~ to force her out of those.)

Catra's eyes do linger on the flex of her bicep, because -- they're friends, and it's not like it's the first time Adora's been proud to show off. But as ever, that lingering look is all the ground she gets from Catra, and even that's tinged with amusement.]

Huh. You know, I think I almost see it. [That slow swish of her tail and narrowing of her eyes are warnings, Adora. Ones that might be a bit more visible than the tensing of the muscles in her legs.] Hold still a sec, would you?

[Adora wanted her to get a closer look? Okay, Catra will go in for a closer look. It's not that big of a jump to make it from the roof to land - intentionally heavy - on her shoulders. If Adora stumbles or falls, so be it. It's no skin off Catra's nose.]

[ Given all the warning signs, it's not a surprise when Catra jumps on her. She's been doing it since they were kids, and even without She-Ra's strength, her weight has always been manageable. With that extra strength, Adora barely even moves from the impact, her bigger shoulders providing an easy landing platform. ]

Catra! [ She laughs, raising a hand to check that she's still steady after her leap. Which, of course she is, she's Catra — safely navigating places where she shouldn't be her whole thing — but Adora's first instinct is to make sure. ] Enjoying the view?

[ The view of what, exactly, she doesn't specify, but she flexes again; this time with both arms. (Look, she's never gotten to impress Catra with She-Ra before. This is just... helping her accept that it's a good thing to have a giant Princess on her side.) ]

I need to go get my sword, but I'll wait until you're comfortable first. Take as long as you want. [ Adora tilts her head up so she can smile at her, soft and genuine. First She-Ra, then the sword. Expecting both at once was probably a little much. ]

[Don't worry, she has no intention of rushing. Catra is also breaking every personal boundary that might usually exist between two normal people, but which has long since been worn away for them - if such boundaries ever existed to begin with.

Which is to say, Catra's gotten a bit personal with her hair for a brief moment there, when one of her feet slips on the unexpectedly smooth surface of a pointed golden spaulder and her hands grip into it reflexively. She's corrected herself before Adora's hand even reaches her, slipping away from it. She's fine. Catra's climbed more dangerous things than her best friend before.]

Eh. Looks pretty much the same to me. [Is that a foot unceremoniously braced on the gold adorning Adora's chest, and a knee jammed into her forehead, while Catra maneuvers to be crouching the same direction as her, balanced behind her head? It sure is. And is that her tail batting, deliberate and annoying, into Adora's face? Right again. Some people just have no respect.

She gets a couple of moments to eye off the taut lines of Adora's strained muscles rather freely, before Adora's head moves; and Catra's a little late to stopping the more affectionate drag of her tail as it brushes along one of Adora's arms. She's still in time to be smirking, though; folding her arms casually on Adora's tilted head, and resting the front of her chin on them to look down at her, nose wrinkling at the nearness of the tiara. More and more, she's realizing that she wasn't only having trouble tracking Adora down because of the weird smells in this place or the misty fog dampening things. It's because Adora smells like this now, with the tickle of magic clinging to her even when she's her regular self.]

Forget the sword. [No, seriously. Forget it. That thing is bad news.] I wanna see what you can do to those lanterns. [They'll probably explode under her fists. Not as good as firing off a tank and laughing giddily as the adrenaline of a blast rocks the ground, but hopefully way better than dropping them off a roof.] Don't tell me you're too afraid of getting dirty to have a little fun.

Edited 2020-10-01 12:29 (UTC)

Whatever you say.

[ If Catra wants to imply that Adora was always this big and muscly, then she's not going to argue. She snort-laughs as Catra maneuvers herself into position, both from the tail (and fur) in her face, and the sudden rush of her best friend touching her so casually again, no matter how much of a pain she is about it. (Plus, it makes her feel powerful, to have Catra climbing on her like a tree. She's used to being the taller one, but this is something else.) ]

I can't just forget it. I need a weapon. [ She-Ra might count as a weapon all on her own, but Adora still needs the sword to be her in the first place. She's fine with waiting, though; knowing the transformation will hold for a while longer. ] But sure, I can smash some lanterns. [ How convenient — there's one right nearby, and Adora grins at its angry face as she raises one oversized boot. ] Starting with this one right... here!

[ Splat goes the pumpkin; and, in turn, its orangey guts over Adora's nice white outfit. Blood and damage never stick through her transformations, so she's pretty sure some goop won't either, but who really cares at this point? She's having fun, and Catra is too... for now.

For now, because the next lantern she crushes in her bare hands, then reaches up behind her head to smear the insides on Catra's fur, all while wearing the smuggest grin imaginable. ]

Not afraid of getting dirty, are you?

[Catra's only gone a few long hours without manhandling her best friend, but the sentiment of relief at being so close again is certainly shared. Especially after the rebuffing she'd received earlier, and that sad, angry look Adora had given her--

She still doesn't know what that was about, what the sword convinced Adora she'd done. It's a good thing that the sword underestimated their trust in each-other, or who knows where they'd be right now. Catra probably would have had to subdue Adora and take her in by force, and they'd be back in Shadow Weaver's dimly-lit room while she poked around undoing the weirdness that's got Adora acting out against her.

It's what she should be doing, it's the fastest way to get Adora fixed, and that means it's selfish for Catra to laugh loudly when Adora's dumb, bright boot smashes down into a scowling lantern and splatters its orange mess everywhere... but Catra's never claimed to be anything but a selfish person. Besides, she's... Scoping out what the sword's done to Adora. Gathering intel. ~~Trying to determine if her best friend really is a Princess now, or if she's just imagining it the way Catra thinks she is.~~

It's equal parts intimidating and exciting to see her crush a lantern in her hands, and the puff of Catra's fur is exuberant for all of two seconds before she realizes Adora's hand is heading for her.]

Ado--ora!! [It starts off as a warning, and then rises in pitch as Adora's hands smear orange gunk onto her. Squirming away does no good; she can feel the goop settling in to her fur and uniform as she tries and fails to evade Adora's larger-than-normal hands, and so Catra goes for plan b: scraping a quick swipe of the orange mess from herself, and smacking it gracelessly into the side of Adora's face, rubbing firmly to smush it blindly into her skin.]

What's wrong, Catra? Scared of the big bad Princess?

[ The Princess currently giggle-snorting as Catra returns the favour, her tongue briefly darting out to taste some of the mess stuck to her cheek. It's a far cry from Bright Moon cuisine, but good enough to see them through a survival situation, until she can get in touch with Bow or Glimmer... and if she has to be stuck in a strange place with one other person, there's no one better than a friendly Catra to increase both their odds of getting home safe, even with a loooot of explaining to do.

In the back of her mind, she's already assessing the situation, planning ahead for their next move. They'll have to find a river, or a house with a functioning water supply; both for drinking and cleaning themselves with. Catra might hate getting wet, but it's an improvement over the freezing cold showers in the Fright Zone, and she can't stay covered in sticky goop forever. (Well. She probably can, but Adora's not going to let her.)

Idly, Adora wonders if Catra will be jealous of her magical self-repairing (and cleaning) Princess outfit saving her from a change of clothes. Their Horde uniforms are built for practicality, which Adora deeply appreciates, but she likes the idea of Catra wearing things not made strictly for combat purpose, more along the lines of her suit at Princess Prom. Catra might not remember that incident, but Adora does, especially when she knows it was designed to have an effect on her. Good thing it definitely, absolutely, completely failed to do so, except to put the idea of Catra in different outfits in her head months later.

But that's something for Future Adora to think about. Present Adora is grabbing another pumpkin off a nearby bench with an evil chuckle, wrapping her fingers around the gourd as she holds it aloft. ]

Had enough yet? 'Cause I can do this all day. [ Her plans if Catra disagrees are clear, and they involve a lot more ruffling and messing up of fur. All's fair in ~~love~~ friendship and war. ] Admit it. She-Ra is the coolest thing you've ever seen.

[ Accidental namedrop, whoops. ]

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