[ IT HAD A PARTY HAT. Nothing wearing a party hat can be evil. (Also, it's less that she isn't nervous at all, and more that she doesn't need to be with Catra at her side. Even if they've been arguing.) ]
No, you figure it out. Can't you, I don't know, smell what's inside of it? [ Stereotyping... Adora sniffs at the pillow herself, but all she smells is a faint trace of mint, which she doesn't recognize. So: she throws it back at Catra. ] Our old bed was totally fine. It's your fault if anything's wrong with this one.
I didn't think it was gonna change it! How was I supposed to know it was magic?!
[Probably the fact that it was a talking skeleton should have been a give-away. Still, Catra catches the pillow this time; scowling as she snatches it out of the air.
She might be arguing with Adora, both right now and in general every day lately, but Catra does have the superior senses; so she still lifts the pillow to sniff at its corner. She doesn't have the word for its smell - something light and inviting, that permeates through to the back of her mouth - but whatever it is, it's not bad.
It's worth investigating with small and delicate sniffs. Her nose is sensitive, okay - she's not about to blow it out on some mysterious magic skeleton gift.]
I've got no idea what it put in here. [But she's, uh. Not putting the pillow down even after determining that. Her fingers are actually gripping it a little tighter, and the base of her tail is starting to lift in a curve as her toes flex against the floor. This is a pillow, and you're absolutely not supposed to eat pillows... but whatever's in there smells like it'd taste great. It's kind of making her mouth water, but in a really weird, really refreshing way.
So of course she's going to open her mouth to take a small breath against it, because -- that's how you smell things properly, by cautiously tasting the air, and it's why Adora's never going to be any good at it.
Catra's pupils are blown when she pulls away from the pillow, licking her lips. And she only spares Adora a small glance before sniffing at the pillow's seam again, ears flicking.] How'd you miss this? [clearly, it's adora's fault.] Do all of them stink this bad?
Uh, because it was a talking skeleton? [ Yeah, she's calling you out on that, Catra. ] It almost sounds like one of Shadow Weaver's stories... except the skeleton in those would probably try and steal our skin. And it'd be a princess somehow. I never realized she had a theme until someone pointed it out, but wow.
[ Thank god Adora knows not to trust those stories now. Mostly. There's still a tiny what if??? in the back of her mind, but the people she's spoken to have done a good enough job making her realize that maybe she doesn't have to believe everything an evil sorceress told her as a kid.
At Catra's question, she wrinkles her nose, looking suspiciously at the other pillows scattered on the bed. ]
No. Maybe? I don't think so. [ Adora, in contrast to Catra's tentative sniffs, proceeds to shove her face into the nearest pillow and suck in a big, noisy breath through her mouth and nose. Nope, nothing. ] They don't smell like anything to me. Are you sure you're not imagining it?
[ Yes. Doubt the catgirl that you asked to investigate things for you. Great job, Adora.
But when she actually looks at Catra again, her eyebrows shoot up in a mixture of concern and confusion. ]
... Are you okay? [ That's not a normal Catra face. That's a something is about to blow up Catra face. ]
[what, no, nothing's about to blow up, everything is totally fine. Sure, Catra's tail is twitching in tight moves of anticipation, and sure, her pricked ears swivel rapidly toward every noise, but that doesn't mean anything.
...but, then again, the bright gleam in her eyes when she looks up from the pillow is pretty damning evidence.
Her toes are still flexing, clawed nails scraping grooves into the floor, and her muscles are taut all the way through - like she's getting ready to pounce.
(Has her heart always beat this fast? She feels like she can feel it pounding against her chest, racing the way it would after doing something like, say... going for a joyride on a stolen skiff.)]
Maybe it's just this one. [Adora has every right to be concerned, when Catra's grin is this sharp and eager. Aaaaand when her knees are bending, and then she is pouncing; throwing herself right at Adora without any planned intentions, but on the right trajectory to slam the pillow into Adora's face and topple her onto the bed.] Here, you try it out!
... she doesn't know how long it's been since she's seen Catra like this. More than a year, definitely — her smiles and smirks at Princess Prom had been all teeth, her jeers in battle full of hatred and bitterness. This is the Catra who slipped into her bed to giggle about some fall Kyle took that day, who she wanted to rule the world with, before she realized Etheria needed to be protected, not taken over.
But she's not that Adora anymore, even if this Catra is the same one she left behind. It's an illusion built on lies, and Adora lets herself sink into it for a moment, her expression softening as she stares... right up until she finds herself back on the bed again, sputtering under a pillow covering her face. A pillow that, for the record, still smells like nothing, except the vague trace of mint from before. ]
Hey...! [ Yes, she threw it at Catra a minute ago. No, that doesn't make this fair. Lifting the pillow up enough to give herself room to breathe, she suddenly has an Idea, and puts on her Serious Time tone when she speaks again. ] Well, if it's just one, I'll go get rid of it. I mean, clearly we can't trust the skeleton. Isn't that what you said?
[ After seeing Catra's reaction to it, Adora knows she's never getting rid of that pillow, but she's cute when she's defensive over something. ]
[The pillow smells great, Adora should be thankful for it. Catra's doing her a favour by smothering her with it, purring as her knees dig in to her best friend.]
---What?! [And then her eagerness blows up in a quick puff, and Catra yanks her pillow defensively away from Adora, holding it out to the side with two protective hands.] No way! It's mine, you can't just get rid of it!
[The creepy midnight skeleton gave it to her fair and square, Adora!!]
No, no, you were right the first time. What if it's poisoned? We can't risk it, I need to— pff... [ Nope, she can't keep this up. ] Oh, man. The look on your face right now is too good.
[It's an upset and prickly Catra that's on Adora's lap, ready to argue her right to keep her pillow until they're both old and dead and in the ground (--and beyond that, if the vengeful ghost stories are true)--
--then a beat passes.]
You--!! [This pillow is thicker and has more stuffing than the ones they're allocated in the Horde, and it has a more satisfying feel to it when she smacks it into Adora's smug face.
how many thwaps could a flustered Catra thwap if a flustered Catra could thwap thwaps? --Meaning she's going for it, tail lashing as she tries her damndest to suffocate her best, most trusted, most loved person. This is peak friendship, truly.] You're the one who said we have to keep them!
[see, it's totally nothing to do with Catra liking them]
Me, [ Adora laughs, right before Catra's thwaps interrupt anything else that might have left her mouth. It still really is hilarious, even if she can barely breathe, and her beloved hair poof is losing its shape under the pillowy assault. ] You'll ruin your present, dummy!
[ Though, if she did, Adora would just ask her own birthday skeleton for another one. That's love, baby.
She could push Catra off with brute force, but that's no fun. Instead, Adora deploys her ultimate weapon, one that only she can use against Catra without being clawed to death (just possibly maimed): tickling her sides. ]
[Look, when Catra employs dirty tactics, it's fair and expected. When Adora employs dirty tactics --
Well, it's still fairly expected, but it's not fair. At least, that's Catra's view of it when she screeches with laughter, jolting under Adora's hands. That tearing sound Adora might hear right in front of her face? Is Catra's claws piercing the pillow. So much for not ruining her present, Adora.
it's fine it's not like soldiers don't know how to sew repairs anyway]
A--[what is air Catra's fighting too hard to know] Adora--!! [let her go, you monster]
[It's totally a stalemate if in the end, Catra topples off sideways onto the springy mattress, gasping with giggles and clutching the pillow protectively over her stomach, tail still twitching with regular flicks. She might've actually almost suffocated Adora for a moment there, in the fruitless struggle to evade her hands, but is Catra sorry about it?
Nuh-uh. Adora deserved to stare death in its soft, minty face today.]
[ Stalemate, her ass. She didn't suffer through almost being suffocated to let Catra get away with a draw, and Adora rolls over on top of her, this time, pinning her legs, fingers still wriggling — but unlike Catra, she cares about giving her best friend a chance to breathe.
Eventually. ]
What's that, Catra? It sounded like oh, Adora, you're too strong! I surrender!
[ Not in a million years, she knows. Keeping Catra pinned under her, Adora pulls back with a grin, clearly bursting with the need to get something out of her system, and puts on her best scholur tone as she smooths down Catra's fur. ]
Get this: apparently, knowing the day you were born is a thing for people outside the Horde. Weird, right? I mean, how would they even figure out when it was? Babies don't remember stuff. [ Parents. It's called having parents. ] But they have a party — a fun one, not a search party — and people give them gifts, like... [ wait, she doesn't actually know this part ] ... a stun baton, or an extra ration bar. It's a really big deal! Or it sounds like one, anyway. So I was thinking...
... if it is your birthday, then that's definitely important. 'Cause if you weren't born, we wouldn't have met. So... happy birthday, Catra.
[ Even at their lowest points, staring across the battlefield at each other. Adora's thought about what might have happened if she hadn't been born, sometimes, if someone more worthy would have inherited the mantle of She-Ra instead, but never of a world without Catra in it. She's broadened her horizons since leaving the Fright Zone, found other friends, a purpose greater than one person, but Catra, she's still... she's special, and she deserves to know it. ]
[Smothering Adora was way less cruel than this, and Catra hopes that between the wild jerking of her knees and elbows and the indiscriminate snapping of her teeth around wheezing laughter and a retort that might have been "In your dreams!", that Adora's going to be feeling this for way longer than she is.
She's still sensitive all over, sides aching, when Adora begins to smooth down her fur; twitching away from the first caresses of her fingers, choking a residual laugh into the pillow. Which is a great way to hide the pleasant heat blooming under her skin as Adora's hands continue over her arms, her weight warm and heavy and nice on Catra's legs.]
Gross. [Warm and tingly inside and out, that's how Catra feels, still breathing heavily to catch her breath. So she's emphatic about her disgust as something that's a lot deeper than just happiness unfurls in her chest. She doesn't really know what to do with it - does she ever? - so she lets it be, tail curling on the mussed bedding.] It's not that big a deal, you don't have to get all sappy on me about it.
[Probably would be a more convincing assertion if Catra had wiped the soft look off her face before saying it. Whatever, it's being replaced by mischief soon enough, her ears perking up from where they'd been slowly drifting into a relaxed slant and a sharp fang slipping carelessly through her grin.] But hey, if you're just saying you wanna throw me a party and give me a whole bunch of stuff--
[Then Catra has a list that'll keep Adora running around for her for the entire next month.]
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No, you figure it out. Can't you, I don't know, smell what's inside of it? [ Stereotyping... Adora sniffs at the pillow herself, but all she smells is a faint trace of mint, which she doesn't recognize. So: she throws it back at Catra. ] Our old bed was totally fine. It's your fault if anything's wrong with this one.
no subject
[Probably the fact that it was a talking skeleton should have been a give-away. Still, Catra catches the pillow this time; scowling as she snatches it out of the air.
She might be arguing with Adora, both right now and in general every day lately, but Catra does have the superior senses; so she still lifts the pillow to sniff at its corner. She doesn't have the word for its smell - something light and inviting, that permeates through to the back of her mouth - but whatever it is, it's not bad.
It's worth investigating with small and delicate sniffs. Her nose is sensitive, okay - she's not about to blow it out on some mysterious magic skeleton gift.]
I've got no idea what it put in here. [But she's, uh. Not putting the pillow down even after determining that. Her fingers are actually gripping it a little tighter, and the base of her tail is starting to lift in a curve as her toes flex against the floor. This is a pillow, and you're absolutely not supposed to eat pillows... but whatever's in there smells like it'd taste great. It's kind of making her mouth water, but in a really weird, really refreshing way.
So of course she's going to open her mouth to take a small breath against it, because -- that's how you smell things properly, by cautiously tasting the air, and it's why Adora's never going to be any good at it.
Catra's pupils are blown when she pulls away from the pillow, licking her lips. And she only spares Adora a small glance before sniffing at the pillow's seam again, ears flicking.] How'd you miss this? [clearly, it's adora's fault.] Do all of them stink this bad?
no subject
[ Thank god Adora knows not to trust those stories now. Mostly. There's still a tiny what if??? in the back of her mind, but the people she's spoken to have done a good enough job making her realize that maybe she doesn't have to believe everything an evil sorceress told her as a kid.
At Catra's question, she wrinkles her nose, looking suspiciously at the other pillows scattered on the bed. ]
No. Maybe? I don't think so. [ Adora, in contrast to Catra's tentative sniffs, proceeds to shove her face into the nearest pillow and suck in a big, noisy breath through her mouth and nose. Nope, nothing. ] They don't smell like anything to me. Are you sure you're not imagining it?
[ Yes. Doubt the catgirl that you asked to investigate things for you. Great job, Adora.
But when she actually looks at Catra again, her eyebrows shoot up in a mixture of concern and confusion. ]
... Are you okay? [ That's not a normal Catra face. That's a something is about to blow up Catra face. ]
no subject
...but, then again, the bright gleam in her eyes when she looks up from the pillow is pretty damning evidence.
Her toes are still flexing, clawed nails scraping grooves into the floor, and her muscles are taut all the way through - like she's getting ready to pounce.
(Has her heart always beat this fast? She feels like she can feel it pounding against her chest, racing the way it would after doing something like, say... going for a joyride on a stolen skiff.)]
Maybe it's just this one. [Adora has every right to be concerned, when Catra's grin is this sharp and eager. Aaaaand when her knees are bending, and then she is pouncing; throwing herself right at Adora without any planned intentions, but on the right trajectory to slam the pillow into Adora's face and topple her onto the bed.] Here, you try it out!
no subject
... she doesn't know how long it's been since she's seen Catra like this. More than a year, definitely — her smiles and smirks at Princess Prom had been all teeth, her jeers in battle full of hatred and bitterness. This is the Catra who slipped into her bed to giggle about some fall Kyle took that day, who she wanted to rule the world with, before she realized Etheria needed to be protected, not taken over.
But she's not that Adora anymore, even if this Catra is the same one she left behind. It's an illusion built on lies, and Adora lets herself sink into it for a moment, her expression softening as she stares... right up until she finds herself back on the bed again, sputtering under a pillow covering her face. A pillow that, for the record, still smells like nothing, except the vague trace of mint from before. ]
Hey...! [ Yes, she threw it at Catra a minute ago. No, that doesn't make this fair. Lifting the pillow up enough to give herself room to breathe, she suddenly has an Idea, and puts on her Serious Time tone when she speaks again. ] Well, if it's just one, I'll go get rid of it. I mean, clearly we can't trust the skeleton. Isn't that what you said?
[ After seeing Catra's reaction to it, Adora knows she's never getting rid of that pillow, but she's cute when she's defensive over something. ]
no subject
---What?! [And then her eagerness blows up in a quick puff, and Catra yanks her pillow defensively away from Adora, holding it out to the side with two protective hands.] No way! It's mine, you can't just get rid of it!
[The creepy midnight skeleton gave it to her fair and square, Adora!!]
no subject
No, no, you were right the first time. What if it's poisoned? We can't risk it, I need to— pff... [ Nope, she can't keep this up. ] Oh, man. The look on your face right now is too good.
no subject
--then a beat passes.]
You--!! [This pillow is thicker and has more stuffing than the ones they're allocated in the Horde, and it has a more satisfying feel to it when she smacks it into Adora's smug face.
how many thwaps could a flustered Catra thwap if a flustered Catra could thwap thwaps? --Meaning she's going for it, tail lashing as she tries her damndest to suffocate her best, most trusted, most loved person. This is peak friendship, truly.] You're the one who said we have to keep them!
[see, it's totally nothing to do with Catra liking them]
no subject
[ Though, if she did, Adora would just ask her own birthday skeleton for another one.
That's love, baby.She could push Catra off with brute force, but that's no fun. Instead, Adora deploys her ultimate weapon, one that only she can use against Catra without being clawed to death (just possibly maimed): tickling her sides. ]
no subject
Well, it's still fairly expected, but it's not fair. At least, that's Catra's view of it when she screeches with laughter, jolting under Adora's hands. That tearing sound Adora might hear right in front of her face? Is Catra's claws piercing the pillow. So much for not ruining her present, Adora.
it's fine it's not like soldiers don't know how to sew repairs anyway]A--[what is air Catra's fighting too hard to know] Adora--!! [let her go, you monster]
[It's totally a stalemate if in the end, Catra topples off sideways onto the springy mattress, gasping with giggles and clutching the pillow protectively over her stomach, tail still twitching with regular flicks. She might've actually almost suffocated Adora for a moment there, in the fruitless struggle to evade her hands, but is Catra sorry about it?
Nuh-uh. Adora deserved to stare death in its soft, minty face today.]
no subject
Eventually. ]
What's that, Catra? It sounded like oh, Adora, you're too strong! I surrender!
[ Not in a million years, she knows. Keeping Catra pinned under her, Adora pulls back with a grin, clearly bursting with the need to get something out of her system, and puts on her best scholur tone as she smooths down Catra's fur. ]
Get this: apparently, knowing the day you were born is a thing for people outside the Horde. Weird, right? I mean, how would they even figure out when it was? Babies don't remember stuff. [ Parents. It's called having parents. ] But they have a party — a fun one, not a search party — and people give them gifts, like... [ wait, she doesn't actually know this part ] ... a stun baton, or an extra ration bar. It's a really big deal! Or it sounds like one, anyway. So I was thinking...
... if it is your birthday, then that's definitely important. 'Cause if you weren't born, we wouldn't have met. So... happy birthday, Catra.
[ Even at their lowest points, staring across the battlefield at each other. Adora's thought about what might have happened if she hadn't been born, sometimes, if someone more worthy would have inherited the mantle of She-Ra instead, but never of a world without Catra in it. She's broadened her horizons since leaving the Fright Zone, found other friends, a purpose greater than one person, but Catra, she's still... she's special, and she deserves to know it. ]
no subject
She's still sensitive all over, sides aching, when Adora begins to smooth down her fur; twitching away from the first caresses of her fingers, choking a residual laugh into the pillow. Which is a great way to hide the pleasant heat blooming under her skin as Adora's hands continue over her arms, her weight warm and heavy and nice on Catra's legs.]
Gross. [Warm and tingly inside and out, that's how Catra feels, still breathing heavily to catch her breath. So she's emphatic about her disgust as something that's a lot deeper than just happiness unfurls in her chest. She doesn't really know what to do with it - does she ever? - so she lets it be, tail curling on the mussed bedding.] It's not that big a deal, you don't have to get all sappy on me about it.
[Probably would be a more convincing assertion if Catra had wiped the soft look off her face before saying it. Whatever, it's being replaced by mischief soon enough, her ears perking up from where they'd been slowly drifting into a relaxed slant and a sharp fang slipping carelessly through her grin.] But hey, if you're just saying you wanna throw me a party and give me a whole bunch of stuff--
[Then Catra has a list that'll keep Adora running around for her for the entire next month.]