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Entry tags:
TDM 001
TEST DRIVE MEME 001 ❀
CONTENT WARNINGS: potential character nudity, violence, trypophobia (images) as well as light mentions of gore.
Please note: FOR THE FIRST 24 HOURS AFTER 'HATCHING', CHARACTERS WILL FEEL WEAK AND ANY POWERS THEY HAVE WILL NOT WORK.
Test drive meme threads can be considered game canon for players who are later accepted and wish to keep their CR. The rescue mission prompt will be a TDM-exclusive, but the other prompts that you see here will also appear on our first game log. There will, of course, be more going on that week.
Please reserve questions about consequences for altering or meaningfully investigating the setting for the first log of the game, where we will have a Mod Questions thread at the top of the log. On this test drive meme, please reserve this thread for clarification and setting questions.
On the first day of reserves (May 10th), only players who participate in the TDM will be allowed to reserve. You must link an AC-length thread from the TDM for early access. Starting on the 11th, any prospective player may submit a reserve. Our hope is that this will avoid overwhelming our reserves.
Congrats, you've woken up in an egg. I'm sure this is exactly how you wanted to spend your Saturday, right? There's no time to get curious and check out the other egg sacs. By the time you've fought your way out of the membranous sac, spilled electric blue goop everywhere, wiped it out of your eyes and sundry other orifices to get your bearings, you have a spear (or a gun) leveled at your face, throat, or other vital organs. Even if you might be inclined to fight, you can barely lift your arms to protest being grabbed and dragged off. Before you can even get a word in edgewise, you've been thrown into a holding cell.
Characters will not have a chance to retrieve their items at the time of the first hatching, and may not even know there is anything left in the remaining eggs.
The holding cell stinks of something sour and acidic, like rotted citrus, but you are not alone. Several other detainees sit in similar squalid confusion, dressed strangely and equally gooey. Time to make nice, ask questions... figure out what the hell is going on, and maybe do something about all that slime?
Over the next few days, a few things become clear. Despite the alien greeting, your captors speak a language that you understand, and the unpleasant circumstances are revealed to be a matter of necessity, not choice. Supplies are low, but they ensure that the new arrivals' time imprisoned is as painless as can be — they offer hot communal showers of less than three minutes, some strange starchy meal-replacement, and medical treatment to those in need. You might strike up a conversation with your new best friend in the shower over a low soap dispenser or when you realize you might need to share towels.
The cost of these luxuries comes in the form of touch-and-go interrogation by the security officers keeping tabs on the cells and supervising the shower time.
A few notes:
Please note: FOR THE FIRST 24 HOURS AFTER 'HATCHING', CHARACTERS WILL FEEL WEAK AND ANY POWERS THEY HAVE WILL NOT WORK.
Test drive meme threads can be considered game canon for players who are later accepted and wish to keep their CR. The rescue mission prompt will be a TDM-exclusive, but the other prompts that you see here will also appear on our first game log. There will, of course, be more going on that week.
Please reserve questions about consequences for altering or meaningfully investigating the setting for the first log of the game, where we will have a Mod Questions thread at the top of the log. On this test drive meme, please reserve this thread for clarification and setting questions.
On the first day of reserves (May 10th), only players who participate in the TDM will be allowed to reserve. You must link an AC-length thread from the TDM for early access. Starting on the 11th, any prospective player may submit a reserve. Our hope is that this will avoid overwhelming our reserves.
❀ HATCHING
Congrats, you've woken up in an egg. I'm sure this is exactly how you wanted to spend your Saturday, right? There's no time to get curious and check out the other egg sacs. By the time you've fought your way out of the membranous sac, spilled electric blue goop everywhere, wiped it out of your eyes and sundry other orifices to get your bearings, you have a spear (or a gun) leveled at your face, throat, or other vital organs. Even if you might be inclined to fight, you can barely lift your arms to protest being grabbed and dragged off. Before you can even get a word in edgewise, you've been thrown into a holding cell.
Characters will not have a chance to retrieve their items at the time of the first hatching, and may not even know there is anything left in the remaining eggs.
The holding cell stinks of something sour and acidic, like rotted citrus, but you are not alone. Several other detainees sit in similar squalid confusion, dressed strangely and equally gooey. Time to make nice, ask questions... figure out what the hell is going on, and maybe do something about all that slime?
Over the next few days, a few things become clear. Despite the alien greeting, your captors speak a language that you understand, and the unpleasant circumstances are revealed to be a matter of necessity, not choice. Supplies are low, but they ensure that the new arrivals' time imprisoned is as painless as can be — they offer hot communal showers of less than three minutes, some strange starchy meal-replacement, and medical treatment to those in need. You might strike up a conversation with your new best friend in the shower over a low soap dispenser or when you realize you might need to share towels.
The cost of these luxuries comes in the form of touch-and-go interrogation by the security officers keeping tabs on the cells and supervising the shower time.
A few notes:
☆ Your character may get pulled away for interrogation at some point. No torture, no drugs; just questioning.
☆ Locals will be stopping by outside the freestanding holding cells to ogle or ask questions. Are you really going to be mean to that little kid staring at you with wide eyes?
☆ Characters will be let out for bio breaks. No one has to pee in a bucket, that's just inhumane!
☆ Attempts to escape will probably get you tasered. The mods will not facilitate escape-plots/etc on test drive memes. However: if you app and are accepted you are more than welcome to chat with us about the possibility of having escaped or attempted it.
☆ Locals will be stopping by outside the freestanding holding cells to ogle or ask questions. Are you really going to be mean to that little kid staring at you with wide eyes?
☆ Characters will be let out for bio breaks. No one has to pee in a bucket, that's just inhumane!
☆ Attempts to escape will probably get you tasered. The mods will not facilitate escape-plots/etc on test drive memes. However: if you app and are accepted you are more than welcome to chat with us about the possibility of having escaped or attempted it.
❀ EXPLORE THE BASECAMP
On the heels of a little benign interrogation, a medical inspection, and a stern talking to by Captain Childe, the survivors at Basecamp Leviathan determine one thing: you don't appear to be an active threat.
Released from the detention center after three days, you are given the run-down by the locals — you're on a planet called Ethyraia, and the people around you are survivors of the catastrophic crash of the UCSS Adamant several years prior. You, in fact, showed up on the third anniversary of the crash. Weird coincidence, huh?
You're being allowed to mingle with the others. The first order of the day is having a proper meal at the mess hall — some of the Adamant's survivors will be friendlier than others. They've been stranded here for years, remember? Some of them will be so desperate to talk to someone who has news of other places, and some will be giving you the cold shoulder.
You'll be fed the same as the rest of them. A plastic plate of crumbled protein of unidentifiable origin and gravy over rice with a single wilted stalk of broccoli and a cup of the worst coffee you've ever had. Maybe somebody bumps into you and spills said coffee, maybe you make it all the way to one of the long tables set out for communal eating.
Time to strike up a chat with your neighbor — maybe ask them to pass the salt?
(What do you mean, there's no salt!?)
After a meal — it's hard to say which one you'd call it, since the whole crew is on rotating schedules — you may decide to wander the basecamp. Folks in every department could use a hand. Those willing to help out may get friendlier reception than those who play the tourist. For more info on what else you might find, check out the LOCATIONS page.
During this time, characters will be able to return to the Central Chrysalis where they hatched. While there are no clues as to how they got there, they might find items — their own, or someone else's. Everyone is strapped for supplies, but try not to snatch up anything that isn't yours. The security officers don't look kindly on people chasing one other down the hall, trying to get back their dirty magazines.
A few notes:
Released from the detention center after three days, you are given the run-down by the locals — you're on a planet called Ethyraia, and the people around you are survivors of the catastrophic crash of the UCSS Adamant several years prior. You, in fact, showed up on the third anniversary of the crash. Weird coincidence, huh?
You're being allowed to mingle with the others. The first order of the day is having a proper meal at the mess hall — some of the Adamant's survivors will be friendlier than others. They've been stranded here for years, remember? Some of them will be so desperate to talk to someone who has news of other places, and some will be giving you the cold shoulder.
You'll be fed the same as the rest of them. A plastic plate of crumbled protein of unidentifiable origin and gravy over rice with a single wilted stalk of broccoli and a cup of the worst coffee you've ever had. Maybe somebody bumps into you and spills said coffee, maybe you make it all the way to one of the long tables set out for communal eating.
Time to strike up a chat with your neighbor — maybe ask them to pass the salt?
(What do you mean, there's no salt!?)
After a meal — it's hard to say which one you'd call it, since the whole crew is on rotating schedules — you may decide to wander the basecamp. Folks in every department could use a hand. Those willing to help out may get friendlier reception than those who play the tourist. For more info on what else you might find, check out the LOCATIONS page.
During this time, characters will be able to return to the Central Chrysalis where they hatched. While there are no clues as to how they got there, they might find items — their own, or someone else's. Everyone is strapped for supplies, but try not to snatch up anything that isn't yours. The security officers don't look kindly on people chasing one other down the hall, trying to get back their dirty magazines.
A few notes:
☆ Feel free to help out anywhere. Every little bit of assistance you offer to the locals will raise their estimation of you. You could easily help clean dishes after the meal, help fix leaky piping or repair hammocks. You could stop by the aid station and assist with the wounded. You'll be watched closely and some of the survivors will be warier than others, but most will appreciate the opportunity to have a 'break'.
☆ If your character leaves the basecamp and wanders outside the Leviathan, they may begin to notice that what they perhaps took as a giant cave is actually an enormous dragon. Everything they see that seems 'human made' will look varying levels of worn down, patched, repaired and patched again. This is not a place of prosperity and happiness. Many people are recently injured, or have new scars or missing limbs.
☆ PCs will be warned about going beyond the shade of the dragon's wings. For the sake of the test drive mods will not be facilitating plots that deal with characters going further; we ask that players with an interest in exploring this wait until the game is fully open.
☆ If your character leaves the basecamp and wanders outside the Leviathan, they may begin to notice that what they perhaps took as a giant cave is actually an enormous dragon. Everything they see that seems 'human made' will look varying levels of worn down, patched, repaired and patched again. This is not a place of prosperity and happiness. Many people are recently injured, or have new scars or missing limbs.
☆ PCs will be warned about going beyond the shade of the dragon's wings. For the sake of the test drive mods will not be facilitating plots that deal with characters going further; we ask that players with an interest in exploring this wait until the game is fully open.
❀ RESCUE MISSION
"There's no time to waste," the woman says breathlessly as she grabs your arm. She pulls you to an augmented reality sand table and you will find yourself standing alongside some of the others you may recognize as having 'hatched' with you. There are murmurs by the Adamant's survivors as they pour over data. Maybe you remember Captain Childe from the stern interrogation she gave you a few days ago, but in any case but she's standing at the edge of the sand table looking at the distance scaled between the enormous huddle of HUD badges — the Adamant's survivors — and a tiny pocket of pulsing green some fifteen kilometers away.
"They knew better," Captain Childe says, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. "They should have been back hours ago."
"Fucking scientists," says a man with a faintly French accent. He is scarred and battle-worn, and looks properly pissed off. He's also sporting several fresh injuries, one of which seems to have warranted the use of a crutch. "They'd lose their heads if they weren't attached. Let them wait out the storm."
"No," the captain says. "They're too close to the Rat Nest. We don't need a repeat of —" she trails off, as if seeing you for the first time. She looks you up and down, and then: "You've been told by now that everyone here has to pitch in. If you know how to fight, be ready in ten minutes. You're our rescue squad." She turns and walks out, and there's an awkward moment where everyone present is looking at you to make a choice.
Ten minutes really isn't a lot of time to get ready to walk into danger. Or maybe you aren't a fighter. Maybe you just don't care. But either way, there are people looking to you. To see how you'll react. To see what you'll do. To see if you belong.
What'll it be, hatchling? Fight or flight? Maybe you ought to start coming up with a plan.
FIELD WORK
There's a cadre of scientists cut off by acid rain. From their last transmission, they were driven into the Rat Warrens — and you've been tasked with rescuing them. Too many members of the Security Team are themselves injured, and none of the remaining ones have experience leading a fire team. Let's hope you do — or at least that you can fake it.
Maybe you've hand-picked your team. Maybe you're just stuck with whoever else was closest. Either way, your companions are some of the people you might recognize as fellow 'hatchlings'. If you know them already — good, you've got a head start on what they might be capable of out in the field, and you can chat about the little things. You know, like the weather. Acid rain, gotta love it.
Either way. You're given few small slabs of surprisingly lightweight alloy that has a sheet of — is that hide from the Leviathan? — stretched across them, to divide up amongst your team. "Helps with the rain," Ensign Porter says, trying to sound cheerful despite the grim set to his jaw. "Just come back in one piece. I kinda feel responsible for you guys, you know?"
Before you know it, you're outfitted for the trip. Weapons (if you didn't have your own) and maybe some medical supplies, handed over with a grimace by Doc Sunya.
So then it's just you, your tiny team and a fifteen kilometer hike. Oh, and the acid rain. Luckily, the shields seem to be keeping it off, but it's hard to hear anything over the impact of the drops. Anyone want to play I never?
Or maybe you think you should make a break for it. This is your first time being outside the Leviathan unsupervised. You've got supplies, and other people with as little to lose here as you do. Maybe you should talk.
THE RAT WARREN
You've made it to the last transmitted location of the scientists. What you find doesn't bode well — one of them seemed to have an arm torn off — at least, you think it's an arm — the way it's been disintegrated by the rain makes it hard to tell.
One thing's certain, though. There are bloodstains leading into the nearby maw of a hole in the ground. There's a putrid odor wafting from it, and the sound of frantic scrabbling.
You have an idea of what might be down there. 'Giant rats with tentacles', Porter had said. Don't let the tentacles grab you, they leave chemical burns that usually result in amputation if they can't be treated immediately. But there's a chance the scientists are still alive, and you need to make your choice.
If you and your small team venture down into the darkness, what happens next is up to you. You'll be encountering hoards of these monsters. The scientists are still alive, but will they stay that way? And more importantly, can you get them back to the Leviathan in one piece?
PCs versus the local fauna, round one, FIGHT!
A few notes:
"They knew better," Captain Childe says, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. "They should have been back hours ago."
"Fucking scientists," says a man with a faintly French accent. He is scarred and battle-worn, and looks properly pissed off. He's also sporting several fresh injuries, one of which seems to have warranted the use of a crutch. "They'd lose their heads if they weren't attached. Let them wait out the storm."
"No," the captain says. "They're too close to the Rat Nest. We don't need a repeat of —" she trails off, as if seeing you for the first time. She looks you up and down, and then: "You've been told by now that everyone here has to pitch in. If you know how to fight, be ready in ten minutes. You're our rescue squad." She turns and walks out, and there's an awkward moment where everyone present is looking at you to make a choice.
Ten minutes really isn't a lot of time to get ready to walk into danger. Or maybe you aren't a fighter. Maybe you just don't care. But either way, there are people looking to you. To see how you'll react. To see what you'll do. To see if you belong.
What'll it be, hatchling? Fight or flight? Maybe you ought to start coming up with a plan.
FIELD WORK
There's a cadre of scientists cut off by acid rain. From their last transmission, they were driven into the Rat Warrens — and you've been tasked with rescuing them. Too many members of the Security Team are themselves injured, and none of the remaining ones have experience leading a fire team. Let's hope you do — or at least that you can fake it.
Maybe you've hand-picked your team. Maybe you're just stuck with whoever else was closest. Either way, your companions are some of the people you might recognize as fellow 'hatchlings'. If you know them already — good, you've got a head start on what they might be capable of out in the field, and you can chat about the little things. You know, like the weather. Acid rain, gotta love it.
Either way. You're given few small slabs of surprisingly lightweight alloy that has a sheet of — is that hide from the Leviathan? — stretched across them, to divide up amongst your team. "Helps with the rain," Ensign Porter says, trying to sound cheerful despite the grim set to his jaw. "Just come back in one piece. I kinda feel responsible for you guys, you know?"
Before you know it, you're outfitted for the trip. Weapons (if you didn't have your own) and maybe some medical supplies, handed over with a grimace by Doc Sunya.
So then it's just you, your tiny team and a fifteen kilometer hike. Oh, and the acid rain. Luckily, the shields seem to be keeping it off, but it's hard to hear anything over the impact of the drops. Anyone want to play I never?
Or maybe you think you should make a break for it. This is your first time being outside the Leviathan unsupervised. You've got supplies, and other people with as little to lose here as you do. Maybe you should talk.
THE RAT WARREN
You've made it to the last transmitted location of the scientists. What you find doesn't bode well — one of them seemed to have an arm torn off — at least, you think it's an arm — the way it's been disintegrated by the rain makes it hard to tell.
One thing's certain, though. There are bloodstains leading into the nearby maw of a hole in the ground. There's a putrid odor wafting from it, and the sound of frantic scrabbling.
You have an idea of what might be down there. 'Giant rats with tentacles', Porter had said. Don't let the tentacles grab you, they leave chemical burns that usually result in amputation if they can't be treated immediately. But there's a chance the scientists are still alive, and you need to make your choice.
If you and your small team venture down into the darkness, what happens next is up to you. You'll be encountering hoards of these monsters. The scientists are still alive, but will they stay that way? And more importantly, can you get them back to the Leviathan in one piece?
PCs versus the local fauna, round one, FIGHT!
A few notes:
☆ Feel free to put player characters 'in charge' of the planning/logistics phase. If another PC tags into your thread, you and that player can decide which PC will be 'leading the charge'.
☆ Your character will have: a mini-railgun, a spear (if they don't have their items/weapons from home), a first-aid kit, the acid rain shields, ration bars (that are essentially condensed protein bars — they do not taste good) and one of the smartwatches, which will have a mini holographic HUD displayable on its interface. If your character is the sort to request other things, feel free to assume they received them (within reason — please remember that resource scarcity is the name of the game — feel free to be creative here!).
☆ There are fifteen kilometers to cover. If your character has an ability like superspeed/etc, please keep in mind it will work, but you also have your allies to consider. Normal walking time over this distance, given the difficulty of the environment (steep hills, acid rain, unknown territory, etc) would translate to several hours to an average person.
☆ Feel free to use the NPC scientists however you'd like. If you want your character to find some dead, you can. If you'd prefer they be rescued, that is also acceptable. These are essentially 'your' NPCs that you are using to facilitate the story at this point — the sky is the metaphoric limit!
☆ Your character will have: a mini-railgun, a spear (if they don't have their items/weapons from home), a first-aid kit, the acid rain shields, ration bars (that are essentially condensed protein bars — they do not taste good) and one of the smartwatches, which will have a mini holographic HUD displayable on its interface. If your character is the sort to request other things, feel free to assume they received them (within reason — please remember that resource scarcity is the name of the game — feel free to be creative here!).
☆ There are fifteen kilometers to cover. If your character has an ability like superspeed/etc, please keep in mind it will work, but you also have your allies to consider. Normal walking time over this distance, given the difficulty of the environment (steep hills, acid rain, unknown territory, etc) would translate to several hours to an average person.
☆ Feel free to use the NPC scientists however you'd like. If you want your character to find some dead, you can. If you'd prefer they be rescued, that is also acceptable. These are essentially 'your' NPCs that you are using to facilitate the story at this point — the sky is the metaphoric limit!
❀ BOOZE
A week. You've been here for a week.
By now, you might have tried to venture out of Basecamp Leviathan and experienced firsthand the acid rains that the security officers warned you about. Or you might be teaching the kids at the schoolyard how to gamble. In any event, Thorkil seems to take pity on his disoriented new friends and taps his distillery for a little help.
Invitation passes by word of mouth to meet at the memorial wall. Moonshine of questionable quality is passed around in tin cups — hope no one's afraid of germs — as Thorkil explains the great relief it is to be gaining people instead of losing them. This settlement isn't big, and they aren't overburdened with hope or supplies, but there's been a lot of loss in the past three years. Some people might be willing to look at the arrival of these newcomers as a sign that things are turning around.
Bottoms up, hatchlings, and ... Happy Birthday?
A few notes:
By now, you might have tried to venture out of Basecamp Leviathan and experienced firsthand the acid rains that the security officers warned you about. Or you might be teaching the kids at the schoolyard how to gamble. In any event, Thorkil seems to take pity on his disoriented new friends and taps his distillery for a little help.
Invitation passes by word of mouth to meet at the memorial wall. Moonshine of questionable quality is passed around in tin cups — hope no one's afraid of germs — as Thorkil explains the great relief it is to be gaining people instead of losing them. This settlement isn't big, and they aren't overburdened with hope or supplies, but there's been a lot of loss in the past three years. Some people might be willing to look at the arrival of these newcomers as a sign that things are turning around.
Bottoms up, hatchlings, and ... Happy Birthday?
A few notes:
☆ Feel free to turn this into an impromptu party. Maybe you're celebrating getting all the scientists back alive! Maybe it's something like a wake to remember them in the sad event of their passing. Either way, many of the engineers and other NPCs may join you in this moonlight drinking session, as well as whatever PCs you tag out to or are tagged by.)
❀ OBLIGATORY NETWORK
Welcome people of all kinds to Basecamp Leviathan! I'd give you a hand moving in except...
I have no hands.
Because I'm an AI.
Get it?
It's a joke.
My name is Cartagena. But anyway, this isn't about me or the Adamant for once. This is about all of you. So if you would kindly fill out the following questionnaire to get to know each other; it would also be very helpful for my systems.
NOTE: Participation is MANDATORY.
That was another joke. It's all voluntary. You people and your free will.
1. What is your name?
2. Where are you from?
3. What's your favorite smell? Please describe it as you would to a person without a nose. Because I do not have a nose.
4. If you could be any animal in any world, what would you be?
5. How old are you?
6. Did you enjoy this questionnaire?
Thank you for your participation! Please enjoy the rest of your stay here at Basecamp Leviathan.
I have no hands.
Because I'm an AI.
Get it?
It's a joke.
My name is Cartagena. But anyway, this isn't about me or the Adamant for once. This is about all of you. So if you would kindly fill out the following questionnaire to get to know each other; it would also be very helpful for my systems.
NOTE: Participation is MANDATORY.
That was another joke. It's all voluntary. You people and your free will.
1. What is your name?
2. Where are you from?
3. What's your favorite smell? Please describe it as you would to a person without a nose. Because I do not have a nose.
4. If you could be any animal in any world, what would you be?
5. How old are you?
6. Did you enjoy this questionnaire?
Thank you for your participation! Please enjoy the rest of your stay here at Basecamp Leviathan.
no subject
Her hand stills, and she pulls away enough to make eye contact, her sad smile all the proof her words need. ]
Catra... I never hated you. [ It would be easier, so much easier, if the truth was different, and Adora knows it, and she knows Catra knows it, which is the source of half the pain in her voice, but the truth is: ] I don't think I could ever hate you.
[ Adora can hate what Catra became, hate what she's done to her friends, to Etheria, to herself, most of all; a bitter, barely recognizable wreck compared to the girl Adora grew up hand in hand with. But hate Catra? That's not something she's capable of, and the thought should scare her more than it does. Just how much would she be willing to forgive? How much is she allowed to? The portal, Angella, all the times Catra threatened to kill her friends, stopped only by circumstance over intent — how can she put all that aside and still call herself a hero, let alone worthy of She-Ra?
... But she's not a hero anymore. She's not She-Ra. And this boiling, festering rage inside her towards Horde Prime isn't something she could aim at someone so precious to her. Not without losing what makes her Adora; the opposite of first and foremost, but the only identity she has left. ]
no subject
Her ears remain down, and when Adora draws away Catra fights not to shrink. And it's fine that she doesn't, because it turns out that Adora's actually either insane or a total freaking idiot. Catra's mouth opens, and at first all that comes out is a weak, incredulous noise. It might have been intended to be a scoff, but Catra loses the will for it as soon as the muscle in her cheek spasms.
Because looking at her, the sad smile on her face -- Catra can't not see the gap-toothed Adora with the sweetly crinkled eyes, quieting the insecurity raging in her heart with the simplest of assurances:
I'm always gonna be your friend.
Of all the promises they've broken between them, Catra never expected that to be the one that might have held through. And of all of them, that's the one that Catra least deserves.]
You really were gonna come for me. [The words are tinged with the slowly dawning realization. Adora's said it repeatedly, but now it feels like it might have been more than an excuse. Like she wasn't just saying it to show Catra up, or shine a light on her failure.
Why does that make Catra's chest ache, her face starting to crumple as her eyes burn? The entire point was to not have Adora come to Prime's ship - she shouldn't want her to so badly, she shouldn't want to feel so wanted in Adora's life that she'd risk the universe to retrieve her.
At first, Catra bites her lip to stay the tears threatening to fall. And then gives it up as a bad job, sucking in a shuddering breath to calm her rampaging heart.]
--You're such an idiot. [The insult might be more biting if it didn't shake, almost as much as Catra. Or maybe if it didn't break, or maybe - maybe, if instead of the touch of desperation to it, there were some sort of venom.] I told you not to come, Adora, and you were gonna do it anyway? Don't you care what he's gonna do to you?
[Because Catra cares. Like, a lot.]
no subject
[ Not just Catra's last let's go home at Thaymor, but all of their lives; every I'm fine or go away or this is not because I like you. If Catra really, truly, didn't want her to come, she would have stayed unrepentant to the end, instead of offering Adora that rarest of resources: hope. She wouldn't sound so angry, so desperate, in a way that Adora knows is purely defensive; is Catra hurting others before they can hurt her, hiding her weakness, refusing to believe a promise that could easily be broken like so many others Adora knows she's made.
Not this time. (Never again, if Adora can help it, but even if she can't: not this. Never this.) ]
Horde Prime isn't going to stop me. He isn't going to stop any of us. But if I left you on that ship, then I'd already lost. [ The war, but mostly herself. Catra dying in battle would have broken her enough, but knowing she had a chance to save her, to help her, and didn't take it... ] If that makes me an idiot, then I guess I'm an idiot. [ She finds enough strength deep inside her to stand, offering a hand to Catra to do the same. ] The same idiot who's gonna take you home.
[ To Etheria, to Bright Moon, to safety and warmth and the two of them together again; not the way they used to be, but with the shattered pieces of their hearts healed into something better. Something they've chosen for themselves, not because of the pain and fear, but in spite of it. (This isn't the home that Adora means, but it's them, and that's enough for now.) ]
no subject
And she's not listening now, either. It doesn't matter that Catra's told her that screwing around with the thing on the neck will kill her -- as soon as Adora thinks there's any sign that it's still connected, that's it for her. Adora might care enough to talk about staging a dramatic rescue, but Catra's so far from trusting her that it's laughable.
So... the answer, then, is to not tell her anything. Catra's not going to tell her about the nightmares, or the flashes of memories and knowledge that aren't hers. She's not going to tell her about the pain that flashes through her nerves when she knocks whatever it is too sharply, indicating that it's still attached and functional. The moment she thinks anything is happening, Catra will take care of it herself; whatever that means for her.
She's not going home, either. She already told Adora, and it's not a surprise to Catra that she was ignored, but she meant it when she said she wouldn't go anywhere with her. Especially not to Etheria. No matter how her chest aches when she looks up at Adora, or how alone she feels with her warmth removed.
The flick of Catra's tail wafts the sharp smell of the spilled moonshine towards her, and she takes that excuse to turn her head away; freeing a hand from the clasp of Adora's jacket to rub roughly over her eyes. She doesn't have to look at Adora's hand, this way, or wonder how things would be if she just took it. If she just let herself be pulled up and into Adora, instead of huffing into the soured air.]
He's taken over an entire galaxy, and you think you can stop him? You idiots couldn't even stop me. [There's a bitter note in her tone, and Catra doesn't know who it's aimed at any more. It used to be aimed at Adora, but now--
Catra shakes her head, finally swallowing down everything that's bursting to come out. It's still a fight to control her expression, to work her mouth into a line and narrow her swollen eyes, but she pulls it together. It's a tired scowl that she directs up at Adora, a weak one that's belied by her still-damp cheeks, but Catra's always been a crier. It doesn't mean anything.]
Whatever you're planning, leave me out of it. I don't want to hear anything about what you think you and your friends're gonna do. [It's safer that way. If Catra doesn't know what's going on inside Adora's head, then Prime doesn't know either.] He knows everything about you now-- [there goes the tightness in her throat again] --so whatever you do, it better be something even I wouldn't think of.
[Wilful ignorance is pretty much the only thing she can do now, to give Adora a chance of not immediately dying. Maybe Adora will take it for what it is, or maybe she'll be affronted and storm off, but either way - Catra... wins(?).]
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Triumphantly, she points a thumb at her chest with her free hand, still holding the other out in offering. ]
Oh, you don't need to worry about that. Prime can't figure out my plan if I don't have one. [ A little sheepish: ] I've... kinda been improvising this whole time.
[ Which, coming from her of all people, Adora knows is uncharacteristic as hell... but her friends have rubbed off on her. Her focus is Catra; she can think of the rest later, because this is the only thing that gives them a chance in the first place. (See, the smart thing would be to retreat and regroup. The logical thing would be to never trust your former mortal enemy. Charging headfirst into a galactic tyrant's ship to rescue said mortal enemy, then immediately welcoming her back into your life, is purely an Adora and Catra thing, something a monster like Prime would never understand.) ]
But I know we'll be stronger with you. [ I'm stronger with you, is the other truth of it, but she focuses on getting Catra to believe the first part. ] Even when I knew you'd be somewhere, that you'd target me, I still couldn't figure out how to actually deal with it besides just... charging in. If that's what Prime expects, then I'll do the opposite. Not, uh, charging out, but something tactical. Something really smart. [ She chuckles again. ] Or maybe I won't! Like I said, improvising. [ A little more serious: ] The point is... I could really use someone to watch my back while I run in there, tactically. Someone who knows me way better than Horde Prime.
[ The others know She-Ra, but Catra knows Adora. She knew her before she mattered. She cared about her before she mattered. Maybe she still does. ]
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The derisive scoff comes easier now, the messy emotions clogging to sit heavily in Catra's chest, clamped up where they belong. It's still a scratchy noise, almost threatening to sound like the cover that it is for a needed sniff.
Crying is just the worst.]So your big plan's just to be dumb enough to win? [Doesn't that just sum up everything she knows about the Rebellion.] --You know, that might actually work out for you.
[Catra's hand flops down from her face as she gripes, the backs of her fingers grazing limply against the floor. Which, unfortunately, means there's nothing blocking her view when she glances at Adora and finds her still holding her hand out for her.]
Put that thing away already. [Because it makes Catra uncomfortable to look at Adora and the tremors in her arm coming from holding it out for so long - to know that Adora wants Catra to be at her back so badly. That she's ready to leave behind everything Catra's done and forgive her, so willing to move on from it all that she's argued with her for this long about it.
She looks away again before seeing if Adora listens.]
Don't you get it? If you're looking for someone who knows you better than Prime, then I'm not it. [Catra's not even trying to sound forceful about it any more. Instead she's just... tired. resigned. maybe because of the regret chewing her up, the thoughts of what if she'd turned her back on the Horde sooner threatening at her mind.] If you wanna do something smart about it, then you won't talk to me again. You just stay on your side of the base, and I'll stay on mine.
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[ She's glad to have Catra's "approval", if nothing else. But she's not putting her hand away, both because she's stubborn, and because it feels important to keep trying, even if Catra's not biting at the offer yet. Two can play at this game. ]
Well, I'm not. [ ... ] Doing that, I mean. I am smart. [ A pause, and she smirks. ] Besides, the gym we're in right now? Obviously a part of my side. So if you're breaking the rules, then I can break them too. Who's gonna stop me?
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She hates thinking about that, so of course she allows herself a moment to stew in the bitterness of it; the pointed claw of her finger scraping into the floor as she scowls. Was that really what the turning point was? When Adora started to improvise?]
--Who says you get the gym?! [She's already bristling even before she balks, shooting her gaze back up to glare at Adora; her face twisting with displeasure when she sees her stupid hand still being held out. Catra doesn't even want or need the gymnasium, but she's not going to let Adora dictate their allocations.] You can have this place [she gestures sharply to the dinky, cobbled-together room around them] or the mess -- you're not getting both.
[Adora's stomach vs her muscles, Catra's placed her bet.]