katalinarao·.
katalina’s eyes pierced the darkness with ease, and she found herself glad adora couldn’t do the same when the blonde came into view. she was certain the turmoil that was her feelings regarding her ex best friend would’ve been clear as day, even for just a millisecond, if she weren’t draped in shadow. maybe that’s why shadow weaver made such a habit of lurking. her emotions were a mess, her fury and pain and frustration mixing with the other feeling she didn’t dare name, no matter how much she had once liked it’s warmth. the warmth that, when adora left, had turned sick and hot, like some kind of festering wound. that kept up the pitiful hope she might come back.
the sword drew her eye immediately, though her demeanour showed no fear. she waited for the light show, and was pleased when it didn’t come. one of the disadvantages of being 8 feet tall - a little difficult to swing a sword around in a tiny apartment. good. she-ra poked at her raw wounds in a different way to adora. she-ra was everything she’d been left behind for. and… okay, it was stupid but she never looked right. yeah, it was adora, but it didn’t feel like her adora. the adora she still thought of as hers, no matter how foolish that might be. to katra, she-ra wasn’t a princess - or not just a princess. she was a mask, or an ill-fitting suit, or a reason to abandon your best friend. whichever.
“what, no tiara?” katalina asked, all faux innocence and underlying smugness. confidence propelled her forwards, within easy range of the weapon. with crossed arms - her claws weren’t even out, and if there were ever an indication of how unbothered she was, that was it (if adora were going to attack her, they’d already be fighting) - and a self-satisfied smirk adorning her face, she took a moment to enjoy the surprise on the blonde’s face and in her voice before it was gone. the question quickly turned the smirk to laughter. full on giggling, like when they were kids play-fighting in the fright zone, or when adora would get all high and mighty and responsible when katalina showed up to training late. the dumb look on her face was pretty similar to that latter one, actually.
“I mean, are you stupid?” she replied, tone edging closer to mean than playful as the humour drained out of her. “I’m vacationing. c’mon adora, what do you think I’m doing here? what - did you leave your brain back in bright moon?” she rolled her eyes. why was anyone sent anywhere in their lives? magic, tech, power. the whims of their superiors. a way to end the war. it was all the same in the end.
well. a way to end the war, and adora. despite everything, she was still being ordered to bring adora home, because apparently there was nothing better for her to do. because shadow weaver couldn’t believe that her golden child had turned deserter, leaving her with a waste of space for a force captain. bitter old woman. she’d get what was coming to her.
and, okay, maybe katalina didn’t have to keep trying. maybe she wanted adora to come back, too. maybe. she wasn’t about to admit that though.
adora was she-ra. the mantra adora muttered to herself every day; she was powerful enough without the gifts of the first one. a raw strength no one could ever explain about the rather scrawny looking teenager. but catra was catra; raw strength meant nothing against fighting her. the wind for all it’s strength would never be able to whip the sea into it’s shape, for the sea would always have a way to allude it. adora didn’t think catra would ever appreciate being likened to water, of all elements, but adora did. calming. but erratic. far, far, far more dangerous than what met the eye, a secret swell that lures you into drag you under. every time the two met in battle, adora was lulled, placated, decieved, and defeated. played like a fiddle.
when katalina didn’t strike first, no sign of attack, the taller blonde was just as katalina remarked - stupid. dumbfounded by katalina’s actions there was almost a moment she forgot the former had broken into her own apartment in waiting. adora was smart - but only in battle strategies - she could never read her ex-friend that well / how much pain she was in, why she got so jealous when she played with the other kids / and so now, she was open. her sword lowered ever so slightly from a guard to resting below her waist.
she wanted to believe in something / in katalina / that she had seen the error of the horde and sought her out to join the rebellion. it was a yearning in her heart, some kind of primordial sense of belonging. but there was just that hesitancy, the broken trust, the pain and suffering. she couldn’t move past that; for as much as she truly did care for katalina, she couldn’t, wouldn’t forgive her for the damage she had inflicted.
her grip around her sword tightened, yet her stance remained open, and sword swinging loosely.
“i think you’re here because you were told to be here. last i checked the horde didn’t offer employee benefits.” words spoken with a malice, tongue as sharp as her sword, but the harshness not quite reaching baby blue eyes. “if you’re on holiday from the horde don’t you think you should stop comitting crimes? y’know? like breaking and entering? “
