˗ˏˋ of legends. ˊˎ˗

˗ˏˋ prompt | @rotruled | accepting ! ˊˎ˗

Adora refuses to shrink , even as he looms over and stares at her with those striking eyes , but knows enough to hold her tongue , resigned , when he finally speaks. And… answers nothing. Not a single one of her questions. It’s frustrating and she is ( and will be ) stubborn enough to try again , when she can. But for now, she is at least vaguely aware of her place here , as an outsider , in what seems like a world wholly different from her own. It had only been opened up as a possibility to her recently , that she could traverse worlds beyond Etheria. She wonders if this is near where she originally came from. Somehow , by the way he looks at her , she seriously doubts it.  

❝ Yes , I have questions… ❞ Adora’s voice thinly disguises her frustrations , being kept in the dark , but she has gathered enough to know that this creature holds a prestigious position here – one that entails respect – and she cannot be too rash. Better that she doesn’t make any enemies in unfamiliar terrain until she has more information. She presses her hands together , splays her fingers , tips her head slightly forward. ❝ And I would really appreciate it if you answered them, your , uh– ❞

The subtlety is unnoticeable, but the motion is there - a hand clenching into her fist at her side, before relaxing almost immediately afterwards. In the past, she might have ( no. would have ) scolded her ward for such a display of weakness towards her fellow soldiers.

Only, they weren’t soldiers, were they? Not in that defining sense that had once been so much a part of her at Shadow Weaver’s behest. They were friends. Friends weren’t particularly encouraged in the Horde, at least not under the sorceress. Individuals were easier to control alone, strength of will easier to grind down without such pillars of support. That was, unfortunately, one of the simpler truths to her mistreatment of Catra.

“ Very well. I suppose you can help your friend. Ensure that she doesn’t do anything rash in her grief. ”

Shadow Weaver relents without a fight, without pushing her own agenda any further. On tenuous ground, she’d be best served drawing this out. Perhaps a trusted adviser would be just as useful as somebody in power themselves.

Talk of Catra brings her mind from that topic with haste, however.

“ What happened is very simple; Catra became everything I wanted her to be. The problem was that she believed she had done so on her own and so felt she owed me nothing.

It was all too easy for her to usurp my position.

Especially after your thwarting of my every effort cast me into severely low esteem in the eyes of Hordak. ”

An aged sigh that sounds as though it has seen too much and a small chuckle that knows there is still more to be seen, leave her.

“ Oh, if only it had been you in her place. Etheria would be in a much better position than it is now. ”

Adora enforces her final opinion on the matter with a glare before Shadow Weaver lets it go , will not let her bring a rift between herself and Glimmer , not now , when they need each other more than ever. 

She stays quiet to listen as she delves into her explanation of what happened between herself and Catra. Brows furrow together , forming a crease on her forehead. It was a drastic change from the Horde she had always known , but it makes sense , as Catra had begun to appear as Force Captain , standing tall at the helm of all the attacks they had to foil. Proving herself. Adora always knew she would , her former best friend is smart and resilient. Might have been proud of her for it -- in other circumstances -- but not like this. 

❝ You were cruel. Especially to Catra. I can’t say I agree with what she did, but... ❞ But Adora understands. She was there for most of it , in fact , Shadow Weaver made sure she was there to witness the consequences of their disobedience. Surely there were other instances , after she left. ❝ You’re not telling me everything , are you? ❞

Of course she’s not. Adora was always given pieces , but never the whole picture , or -- worse than that -- blatant lies. Now that her eyes are open to the truth , she will not be so malleable in the hands of the woman who raised her. Plain and simple : she sees Catra as an enemy now -- after everything that happened. But she knows in her gut that Shadow Weaver played a part in the reason why she pulled the switch. Adora can’t trust her , can’t let herself believe everything she’s told. Especially not when Bright Moon’s future , the rebellion’s future , is in such a vulnerable state. 

˗ˏˋ prompt | @catraps | accepting ! ˊˎ˗

Adora knows that isn’t the truth , not in the slightest , but for Catra’s sake she holds the argument between her teeth , forces herself to swallow it down and soften. The bolts of fear she was struck with , just witnessing her closest friend’s suffering in their childhood , is the sort of fear her heart will never forget for as long as she lives. It leaves a scar , lives within her , fuels her worst nightmares. Adora knows Catra doesn’t want to feel vulnerable , and she won’t put her in a position where she is made to feel weak – not ever – but she still wonders if they would feel better , talking about it. Their upbringing makes it very difficult to express these sorts of feelings with words , they practically beat it into them that weakness should never be shown , let alone confessed.

˗ˏˋ prompt | @catrayal | accepting ! ˊˎ˗

If there is one thing Adora is really bad at, it’s holding onto a grudge. By the time she climbed up to their usual spot overlooking the Fright Zone , to be alone , her stomach drops , a bit , makes her realize she doesn’t really want to be alone right now. Sometimes it’s like her thoughts are pulled magnetically , against her will , towards her past. Towards wherever it was that she came from , before the Fright Zone , before all the training. Shadow Weaver is always quick to dissuade her from asking ‘foolish questions’ , to remind her that she was just like everyone else. Abandoned , unwanted , until the Horde gave her a place to belong.

Though it was discouraged , she tried bringing her thoughts to Catra … and Catra didn’t do anything wrong , really , she had just seemed so nonchalant about it all , maybe a bit dismissive. It tied little knots of frustration in Adora’s chest , made her feel silly for wondering in the first place. There’s this compass lodged inside of her , something she can’t quite explain with words , not even to her best friend. And sometimes she wonders where it points , where she would end up if she ever followed it. It physically hurts , sometimes , having to ignore it. Having to be a good soldier all the time.

Adora kicks her legs , watching her red boots sway over the barren landscape , when she hears the ‘thunk’ of Catra’s feet hitting the platform somewhere behind her , and then the apology. 

❝ It’s okay. ❞ And it is , really , Adora looks over her shoulder , moved alone by the fact that Catra put in the effort to apologize at all. It isn’t easy for her , so she recognizes the gesture as something to appreciate. Makes her feel less alone , solidifies that she has someone in the Fright Zone. She turns to face the sky , breathes a slow sigh into the air. ❝ I shouldn’t have run off , it’s just… it’s stupid. ❞

Could use a hug , she thinks , but that might be pushing it. It’s one thing to hold each other in their bunk , under the covers , and another to do so out in the open. Soldiers aren’t supposed to ask for hugs. She wraps her arms around herself instead , fingers curling tightly around her forearms , squeezing for comfort. It’s like there’s this part of her that’s hollowed out , missing , and whatever she needs to fill that void is hiding someplace beyond the Fright Zone. But Catra is here. She isn’t alone. And that’s enough.  

@onechosen || CONT.

“ The two are one and the same, Adora - if you know how to use your power. ” A greyed hand, with fingers thin and gnarled like the dying branches of a birch, comes to a rest on the Princess’s shoulder. “ And I raised you to know all about power, that much we can agree on. ”

Shadow Weaver leaves her statement to hang in the air, an effective and heavy silence to lend extra gravity to her words. She won’t outright say it - but then, she never really does, does she? Subtlety and tact is her way, more so than anything else. A word here, poison whispered there; when done right it could bring down a Princess… Or raise up a Queen.

“ You think it should have been you, though? All because you no longer have any idea of how to direct your efforts. ” And now that same hand retreats, clenching violently before her face in a gesture of disdain and disapproval.

“ That sounds like cowardice. It would have been easier to sacrifice yourself. But the powerful do not get the luxury of being martyred. They carry the fight on their shoulders; they are the only ones who can. 

I certainly did not raise a coward. ”

And now her attention is directed, deftly, towards the other Princess in the room. The Princess upon whom Adora’s thoughts currently sit. Glimmer, with the overhanging shadow of her mother’s loss weighing visibly upon her.

“ You must do what you can. Control is yours whether you want it or not. You have control of this situation. Does she look familiar to you, the way she stands now, her mind full of rage and grief at a sudden departure.

That was Catra, after you left her. The path is an easy one to walk down, I assure you.

Do you think someone like that is the best choice for Bright Moon, at this moment? ”

❝ I-- ❞ Adora’s argument , her words , they wither in the darkness spreading around her , like their surroundings , and the only thing that occupies her mind is Shadow Weaver’s voice. The hand that abandons its perch on her shoulder is yearned for , for an instant , an unexplainable want for motherly comfort in a time of grief. And , again , Adora has to remind herself just who she is talking to. Shadow Weaver might have helped them this time , might be on their side on a surface level , but that doesn’t mean she should let her in. Not yet.

Coward, huh. The Queen called herself a coward... before telling Adora she was brave. The wound is still raw, but that doesn’t mean she intends to stop fighting. Take care of each other. She will honor the Queen’s last wish , will not give up , she just-- doesn’t know what to do. Though she is stricken with grief , she is not naive enough to let Shadow Weaver dictate what happens next. Perhaps she has her attention , at first , but her mournful exterior boils over into a quiet rage when Glimmer is referred to -- when Catra is mentioned. 

❝ No. I trust Glimmer. ❞ Adora declares , unwavering through gritted teeth , quiet as not to let the princess in question overhear. She is dealing with too much right now to know what Shadow Weaver is insinuating. ❝ And I’m going to be there for her when she needs me. She just needs... time. ❞

˗ˏˋ prompt | @gossamumbra | accepting ! ˊˎ˗

❝ No. I have power. ❞ Adora feels strongly enough to make the distinction. In her rune stone , in the blade , her reflection stares back at her , blue eyes hardened and perhaps more serious than they have ever been. She hasn’t let the sword out of her sight since that day. Next to Shadow Weaver she is guarded , and behind her walls – unsure. Adora wants to ask for help. She is reluctant to go to Light Hope , after everything , and even more reluctant to confide in the woman standing next to her. ❝ That’s not the same as having control. ❞

At the mention of her friends , her eyes go soft , vulnerable for an instant before she snaps them shut. Though surely that’s not enough to hide from the woman who raised her. She knows what lies beneath Adora’s surface better than anyone else – perhaps with the exception of Catra. 

Adora wants to help Glimmer through this , as she steps into a role of leadership , but she doesn’t know what to propose – what to do – what to say. Not when she still feels like it should have been her. 

@onechosen

         “Honestly I kind of lost track of the time. Has it been two? Maybe four? No, I think it’s been three hours since I sneaked my way into the war room. Speaking of which all the chairs are mobile now! I was suppose to put listening devices on them for the Horde but I got distracted.”

    A couple of listening devices was too mundane for her tastes and before she knew it Entrapta was adding wheels to the chairs. That’ll make things way more fun for them now. 

           “Don’t worry! It’s only moderately dangerous. Say, only a forty five percent chance of one of the chairs exploding. Bow’s might be a little bit higher though so do tell him about that when you see him. I don’t want to accidentally scare him, you know?”  

❝ WAIT-- WHAT-- ❞ Adora can only stare. Slowly, she presses the heel of her palm to her forehead. This is a thing that is happening right now. It certainly is a thing. The chairs have wheels. That’s nice. ( again -- WHAT? ) Entrapta’s explanation seems to move faster than her mind is capable of functioning at the moment, abandoning her in a metaphorical cloud of dust.