Heart to Heart (Catra)
| Heart to Heart (Catra) | |
|---|---|
| Date of Cutscene: | 01 October 2023 |
| Location: | Somewhere in Tokyo |
| Synopsis: | Catra tests out the Heartstealer Rifle, as instructed; which is bad for the person she tests it on. ...But why does she feel so bad afterwards? |
| Cast of Characters: | Catra |
Tokyo. Late evening, on the outskirts. One of the less affluent areas, where there's lots of industry, cheap food outlets, and alleyways. It's the latter that really interests Catra, giving her places to move about alone, unseen, and generally uncared about. Maybe it's not the most abundant hunting ground, but trying to find people to pick on in the downtown areas is significantly more difficult. Especially when your plan is to quite literally shoot someone.
The feline hefts the large bag she has slung over one shoulder, that contains Takashi's Pureheart Rifle, as she trudges about in the drizzling rain, with the hoodie portion of the Rachel Miller disguise drawn low over her head. Her everpresent earbuds are plugged in, letting music that matches her mood flow through her brain. Metallica, 'The House Jack Built'.
The higher you are
The farther you fall
What is Catra even looking for? A person with a pure heart? How do you even know when you've found one? It's not as if this is a lot to go on. Also the rifle is annoyingly large, especially for someone who tops out at just over five feet when standing up straight -- which right now, Catra is not. She walks with her shoulders hunched over, not really listening to the music so much as letting it shut the world out for her as she thinks about her problems.
The longer you walk
The farther you crawl
So here she is, stuck on some alien planet, right? And she figured it would be great to get away from Etheria. A new place, a new start. Where she has absolutely no standing whatsoever and there's nobody here but humans, so instead of getting to be her beastkin self she's stuck wearing a disguise, that makes her feel like she's permanently debilitated. What even is a pureheart anyway? Aside from Adora. she'd probably count. And, she could've shot her the other day in the park, but she didn't.
Why didn't she?
It's a question that plagues Catra's mind; something she just can't shake off. At the time she told herself it was too easy, also that there were people around, and she didn't know what the cat-hater and the chatterbox were all about, but all of that is just a bunch of excuses. She didn't shoot Adora because it felt wrong. And that bothers her.
My body, my temple
This temple it tilts
Step into the House That Jack
Catra almost walks into a girl coming the other way; and in spite of the fact that it was clearly Catra's fault, the other girl bows, appologizes profusely, and offers a pleasant smile before she keeps going the opposite direction, with a white umbrella hoisted up over her person. She's dressed in a Radiant Heart Academy uniform, too. Catra stops and blinks, watching the person who is basically just too cheerful to be real.
That's it. That's the target.
Catra changes course, and follows along after the person she's picked out to test the rifle on. And it's not busy around here, but it's not deserted, either, which presents a bit of a problem; you can't just whip out a rifle and open up on someone around here, apparently. The cops hate it. Not that Catra's worried about them particularly, but it would draw far more attention that she wants. Being openly violent at a moment's notice apparently is a thing of the past.
"I miss the Frightzone," she voices to nobody in particular, for at least the tenth time this week. She follows the target around a corner and takes the time to evaluate her surroundings. There's an alleyway on her side of the street; that's good, and it carries on around the building behind it to come out to the street again, around the next corner. There's traffic lights, that just turned green; which gives about forty seconds before they'll turn red again. Catra's been round this area enough times that she's noticed. Coming up the road is a big truck, the type that uses engine retarder brakes, which are very loud. Catra watches it coming, watches the target, and does some quick thinking.
She turns and dashes off, rushing down the alleyway on all fours and continuing around the corner. She gets there just in time, too, and thumbs off her music. Listening to more Metallica can wait.
The feline drops her disguise. A hand shoots out of the alleyway, grabbing the target who squeaks in surprise as Catra drags her in, pulling her a ways back and throwing her down between a couple of dumpsters.
"Don't move," she snarls. The big bag is slung off her shoulder and unzipped; the rifle is pulled out and couched against Catra's shoulder. The target babbles something about money or jewelry and giving it all to Catra, but in spite of Catra's enhanced hearing she doesn't actually hear any of it. Maybe she's just too busy listening for the truck; maybe she just doesn't want to hear the girl whining.
There it is. Catra's ear twitches; the lights have changed, and the truck is braking hard, right beside the alley, letting out a loud Nnnnnnngg-ka-chugga-chugga-chug. Catra listens to the noise for a moment, a sound that builds on the rain, the squeel of tires from someone who wasn't paying attention and slammed on their brakes at the last second, the music from a nearby noodle shop, and the general din of human activity. Man were these people ever loud.
Catra looks back down the sights of her rifle, and pulls the trigger. There's a bright flash and a loud report that echoes up and down the alley, and the feline looks up, waiting to see if anyone is coming to check out the noise, or if it was just lost against the traffic. When it doesnt seem like anyone's coming, she looks back down at the girl, and the crystal that's laying on the ground beside her; an irregular white crystal, with smooth facets that glisten beautifully.
"Well how about that, I guess it worked," Catra muses to herself as she drops to a crouch, and reaches out to take the crystal. She holds it up to look at it, turning it one way and then the other, observing how it shines in the light.
The girl moans loudly; her hands are clutched to her chest. Her skin has an ashen look to it and there are tears streaming from her face. Catra looks sideways at her, and sighs, moving to sit with her back to one of the dumpsters, facing away from the girl.
"I guess you're probably thinking this was really unfair," she muses out loud. "You were just minding your own business. You didn't do anything to deserve being shot by a cat girl from another dimension with a pure heart stealer rifle. But you have a pure heart... or... well, at least you did, anyway." She holds the crystal up, turning it over in the light. "Talk about a bad day, hunh?"
"I know all about bad days. Some people have bad days... but me? I've had a bad life. I was raised by this absolute monster named Shadow Weaver, who treated my best friend like the saviour of the universe, but me? I was just an inconvenience, and that was on a good day. Usually she hated me jsut for existing, and went out of her way to make sure I knew it." She shrugs, "And then my best friend left to join the rebellion, and became my worst enemy instead."
Catra glances sideways at the girl, who's still clutching at her chest; there's no chest wound, or at least no visible one, she just looks absolutely horrified, like something vital has been taken from her.
"So we fought, and we fought all the time, and you know what's really unfair? She pretty much always won. Didn't seem to matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, she always won in the end. Except, this last time? I finally won, but I dunno... if wound up with me being here, instead of back home. Nothing worked like it was supposed to. I thought the entire planet might burn, but it didn't, and... honestly I would've been okay with it if it did."
She sighs; the girl beside her gags and shudders. "So now here I am, being weapons-testing kitty girl for someone further up the chain than me. But that's okay I guess... you don't climb the ranks unless you figure out how things work and find out who's useful to you. They're all just using me, but whatever, I'll use them back I guess."
Catra stands up, taking the time to stow the rifle back in the carrying bag -- and the crystal in one of the small pockets on the end. "Well... I guess you could tell people an interdimensional cat-girl with a rifle shot you and took your happiness away, but I mean... They might just lock you up." She slings the rifle bag over her shoulder and reassumes her disguise as Rachel Miller, then obnoxious American. "Well. See ya."
The feline turns to leave, and almost makes it out of the alleyway; but behind her, she can still hear the girl, shaking and crying. She pauses, standing just at the edge of the alley, with her head tilted under the hoodie to listen to the sounds coming from behind her.
She's not supposed to care. She's a villain. It's not that she thinks she's really on the good side and other people are really on the bad side; she's not that naive, she knows full well what the score is. So she's a villain, and she's not supposed to care. This is the part where she's supposed to walk away.
"What's your name?" Catra finds herself standing beside the girl again. How'd she get here? She's supposed to be walking away now.
"I'm... Aoki Saori," gasps the girl. "Wh--why--"
"Because I did okay? Shut up." Catra kneels down and scoops up Saori. She pulls her up tight against her chest and rises to her feet, turning around to march purposefully out of the alley. She turns onto the sidewalk, follows it for a few steps, and then enters the noodle shop in reverse, bumping the door open roughly with her back.
"Hey, call an ambulance," she calls out to the cook behind the counter. "She collapsed in the alley, I think she had a seizure or something." Catra looked around, and seized a glass of water from another, much astonished looking patron, who didn't have the presence of mind to complain. She slid the glass across the table to Saori, and then turned to leave, marching straight out the door, not heeding the protests from the cook that she should wait.
Back outside, she pulls her hoodie down low against the rain, and quickened her pace to leave. She thumbed her music back on; the track started over, playing the opening lyrics in her ears once more.
Open door, so I walk inside Close my eyes, find my place to hide And I shake as I take it in Let the show begin
"Yeah... let the show begin."
