[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.]
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divineimpulse) wrote2021-06-14 01:31 pm
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.]