[Ichinose will be forgotten this entire thread. poor itchy nose. but as soon as Byleth scrambles to her feet, Catra does likewise]
[. . .]
[it's instinct, the way she squares her stance defensively, fingers splayed (but claws still withdrawn). her leg is sore (as is her broken arm and her ribs), but her injuries from a few weeks ago are healed enough that she can move with little issue]
[she's silent for a few moments, gaze narrowing, before. . . the pieces click into place]
[. . .]
[is this. . . her doing? the-- the thoughts she's had throughout the week being made manifest?]
[Byleth doesn't immediately reply. doesn't say a word. but she doesn't have toā€”because her emotiosn fire off instead. surprise, worry, shock at catra, and tension, an insurmountable, building tension.
[RIGHT, IT'S EMOTIONSHARE WEEK. . . Catra feels those emotions slam into her like a wrecking ball, and she has to suck in a deep breath to steady herself afterwards. her own are just as much of a wild whirlwind as Byleth's: her own surprise and shock, defensiveness, anger-- mostly directly at this place over everything else-- a small dash of concern and worry for Byleth, for someone whom she has come to legitimately care for these past few weeks, and then. . .]
[determination. resolve. an. . . understanding of what she has to do]
[her fingers curl into fists, her claws still withdrawn]
[. . .]
. . . when-- when I asked you if you would do it again.
You couldn't promise me you wouldn't. [. . .] . . . whatever it is that forced you to kill Crow-- it would force you to murder again.
[Catra is tense too, and those emotions echo off of Byleth's, feeding into them until the atmosphere is so thick you could cut it with a knife. but she isn't wary]
[it's definitely the tension of someone who knows-- who realizes-- she's the predator in this situation. . . whether she wants to be, or not]
[(she doesn't. she really doesn't. but if she doesn't, then-- wouldn't it be unfair? to Byleth? to force her to continue down this path)]
Can you-- can you tell me more about them now?
[she knows Byleth was tight-lipped in their previous conversation, but maybe. . .]
Like-- I don't know, maybe there's something special about tonight? Something that makes it so whatever was keeping you silent before doesn't apply?
[she shakes her head, just once, muscles tight and on edge.]
I can't tell you any more than I could the other day.
[there's a sort of morass to her emotionsā€”despondent, even as she tenses, mind moving furiously to try and predict how Catra will move nextā€”what she'll ask, say, do.]
[a spike of frustration. of anger. still less directed at her and more at. . . some nebulous force? and knowing that this force is nebulous just makes it worse]
Seriously?! Even now?!
[she raises her voice, ears flattening]
What is keeping you from telling us, Byleth! We can't-- we can't do anything to help you if we don't know anything!
[the claws come out and Catra tenses, like a panther ready to pounce. her expression is swiftly growing wild]
Then-- then the only way I know how to help you, to save you, is. . .!
[. . . she uses the word "save," but. . . that's not really what it is, is it? is this her, trying to justify her thoughts, her actions, her decisions?]
[she doesn't want to, she doesn't want to, she doesn't want to]
[but she's here]
[so. . . she has to]
[right. . .?]
[and-- at at least. . . at least Byleth is fighting back. right. . .? she isn't laying down, just letting it happen. that counts for something. right?]
[with a loud battle cry, Catra launches herself forward, claws extended and immediately tries to strike at Byleth's face]
[she twists her sword, and her emotions resound, pulsing with surety and confidence, even as she turns her blade in concern. each parry knocks catra back, rather than attack her, clearly intent on wearing her out, or knocking her out, if she can.
she's not catra-level quick, but she's meeting every blow, completely silent.]
[those emotions just fuel Catra's anger, her determination, her ferocity, and she meets Byleth head on with all of her strength. even her sore limbs, her healing leg, her bruised ribs, don't seem to be holding her back. there's little light for her claws to catch, but somehow they gleam dangerously with every blow, with every resounding strike against Byleth's weapon]
[eventually. . . she withdraws, but only for a second. only for a moment to feint left before she ducks right, fingers extended, three of them on a crash course for Byleth's right arm]
[there's a pause, and then a sudden waterfall of feeling bursting through Catra's tension and determination. it's emotion so strong that it leaves her completely and utterly motionless, her expression slackening from anger to shock. but there's no denying the nature of these emotions-- warm, intense, deep, loving-- all of them directed at Byleth. the woman standing in front of her, phone out and weapon at the ready]
[pain bursts forth through the overwhelming well of love, followed by a sense of duty-- it doesn't matter. how I feel doesn't matter. I still. . . have to do what I came here to do. I have to]
[Catra sucks in a sharp breath, the corners of her eyes stinging in response to that pain. but despite her hesitation, she doesn't hold back]
[she throws herself forward again, ears laying flat against her head, claws extended with the sharp edges driving themselves right at Byleth's shoulder]
[the emotional fallout is like watching fireworks go off in the sky, and byleth sways slightly from the impact, waiting for catra to draw back, to stop attacking, to give upā€”maybe they could both just go back to the dormitories, pretend like nothing happened.
but instead, something else pushes throughā€”instead, she's determined to...
catra's on her again, twice as fierce, all ferocity, and byleth's tumbling backwards, slashing out, back, at catra as she stumbles, suddenly becoming aware that the lazy river is just behind her.]
[she misses, but she draws back quickly just in time to block, to dodge, to parry, sparkls glinting from each blow of her claws against Byleth's sword. she herself isn't aware of the lazy river behind her opponent, but. . . that doesn't matter. her attention is hyperfocused on the person ahead of her, the person who-- who must be freed. who is in such an unfair position that allowing her to continue on would just be. . . cruel]
[. . . right?]
Byleth!
[she cries out again, and there are tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as she presses forward, he heartache in her chest intensifying to almost crippling levels. but it just seems to fuel her forward as she presses her advantage, seeking any opening, any opportunity, to dig her claws into Byleth's flesh]
[the drive is unmissable, and her efforts to not seriously harm catra are backfiring on her. her sword connects, but so does catraā€”and with a gasp, she's pushed, backwards, head over heels into the river behind her. tactically, the worst possible situation.
pushing off the bottom, she surges up again, sword heavy in the water as she heaves for the side with both hands, attempting to pull herself up, out, in time.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
divineimpulse) wrote2021-06-14 01:31 pm
no subject
[. . .]
[it's instinct, the way she squares her stance defensively, fingers splayed (but claws still withdrawn). her leg is sore (as is her broken arm and her ribs), but her injuries from a few weeks ago are healed enough that she can move with little issue]
[she's silent for a few moments, gaze narrowing, before. . . the pieces click into place]
[. . .]
[is this. . . her doing? the-- the thoughts she's had throughout the week being made manifest?]
Is-- [. . .]
Is this what happened with. . . Crow?
no subject
...]
What are you thinking, Catra?
[her voice is soft, but it carries.]
no subject
[determination. resolve. an. . . understanding of what she has to do]
[her fingers curl into fists, her claws still withdrawn]
[. . .]
. . . when-- when I asked you if you would do it again.
You couldn't promise me you wouldn't. [. . .] . . . whatever it is that forced you to kill Crow-- it would force you to murder again.
Wouldn't it?
no subject
she wants to go for her sword. it's at her waist. everything in her body is telling her to pull out her sword. but...
it's catra. it's catra. calm down. it might not be that simple.
but then she speaks.
and it's exactly that simple.]
I don't know.
[her senses are screaming
but her hands are by her side.]
no subject
[it's definitely the tension of someone who knows-- who realizes-- she's the predator in this situation. . . whether she wants to be, or not]
[(she doesn't. she really doesn't. but if she doesn't, then-- wouldn't it be unfair? to Byleth? to force her to continue down this path)]
Can you-- can you tell me more about them now?
[she knows Byleth was tight-lipped in their previous conversation, but maybe. . .]
Like-- I don't know, maybe there's something special about tonight? Something that makes it so whatever was keeping you silent before doesn't apply?
[it's a long shot. but still, she hopes]
no subject
I can't tell you any more than I could the other day.
[there's a sort of morass to her emotionsā€”despondent, even as she tenses, mind moving furiously to try and predict how Catra will move nextā€”what she'll ask, say, do.]
no subject
Seriously?! Even now?!
[she raises her voice, ears flattening]
What is keeping you from telling us, Byleth! We can't-- we can't do anything to help you if we don't know anything!
no subject
There's nothing more to say!
[her breathing is shallow, as if getting ready for some strenuous movement.]
no subject
[the claws come out and Catra tenses, like a panther ready to pounce. her expression is swiftly growing wild]
Then-- then the only way I know how to help you, to save you, is. . .!
[. . . she uses the word "save," but. . . that's not really what it is, is it? is this her, trying to justify her thoughts, her actions, her decisions?]
no subject
in fact, she barely breathes. she settles into a fighting stance, and radiates danger.]
Don't do this, Catra.
no subject
[but she's here]
[so. . . she has to]
[right. . .?]
[and-- at at least. . . at least Byleth is fighting back. right. . .? she isn't laying down, just letting it happen. that counts for something. right?]
[with a loud battle cry, Catra launches herself forward, claws extended and immediately tries to strike at Byleth's face]
no subject
she's not catra-level quick, but she's meeting every blow, completely silent.]
no subject
[eventually. . . she withdraws, but only for a second. only for a moment to feint left before she ducks right, fingers extended, three of them on a crash course for Byleth's right arm]
no subject
it's the work of a moment, and she looks back up, expecting things to have... changed.]
1/2
[there's a pause, and then a sudden waterfall of feeling bursting through Catra's tension and determination. it's emotion so strong that it leaves her completely and utterly motionless, her expression slackening from anger to shock. but there's no denying the nature of these emotions-- warm, intense, deep, loving-- all of them directed at Byleth. the woman standing in front of her, phone out and weapon at the ready]
no subject
[but it's not enough]
[pain bursts forth through the overwhelming well of love, followed by a sense of duty-- it doesn't matter. how I feel doesn't matter. I still. . . have to do what I came here to do. I have to]
[Catra sucks in a sharp breath, the corners of her eyes stinging in response to that pain. but despite her hesitation, she doesn't hold back]
[she throws herself forward again, ears laying flat against her head, claws extended with the sharp edges driving themselves right at Byleth's shoulder]
no subject
but instead, something else pushes throughā€”instead, she's determined to...
catra's on her again, twice as fierce, all ferocity, and byleth's tumbling backwards, slashing out, back, at catra as she stumbles, suddenly becoming aware that the lazy river is just behind her.]
no subject
[. . . right?]
Byleth!
[she cries out again, and there are tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as she presses forward, he heartache in her chest intensifying to almost crippling levels. but it just seems to fuel her forward as she presses her advantage, seeking any opening, any opportunity, to dig her claws into Byleth's flesh]
no subject
pushing off the bottom, she surges up again, sword heavy in the water as she heaves for the side with both hands, attempting to pull herself up, out, in time.]