Joke's on You (Catra)
Joke's on You (Catra) | |
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Date of Cutscene: | 21 November 2024 |
Location: | Somewhere in Tokyo |
Synopsis: | Catra flees the Korma Chameleon after an encounter with Joker, and is overcome with emotions and self-recrimination. (Content warning for ideation) |
Cast of Characters: | Catra |
"'We really need to get you out of there.'"
Catra doesn't walk, she runs, with Rashmi's whispered words ringing in her ears, after their encounter with Joker. In the Korma Chameleon. Rashmi's family restaurant, the place where she'd promised -- she'd PROMISED -- never to bring trouble to. A truce. She'd promised a truce, and tonight, she broke that promise and not only brought trouble but very nearly started a fight over it. She brought Joker to Rashmi's restaurant. As usual, everything was falling apart and it was all her fault. She'd stood up and bolted from the restaurant, after Rashmi's words, without saying a thing; she just left, trying not to seem like she was fleeing in terror... but she was, fleeing into the incessant drizzle of Tokyo rain, for once uncaring about the damp.
Abruptly, she came to a halt, in the middle of the sidewalk. She put one hand on the wall beside her and the other on her chest, feeling her heart galloping inside her chest. Her knees felt like they wouldn't support her, and she gasped for breath, unable to keep air in her lungs. Her shoulders sag and she drops to the ground, gasping and fighting to keep tears from rolling out of the corners of her eyes. "Why," she gasped. "Why why why, why there, why now, why..."
There was something in her pocket. She pulled it out and looked at it; a jar, made of glass and not very big. The jar that Joker had left on the table in front of her. She'd left it behind, but it evidently was not finished with her yet. A thought turned her skin to ice; had it followed her on its own, or did Joker put it there? Was he still watching her? "Leave... me alone," she gasped. "'Leave me alone.' LEAVE ME ALONE!" Catra realized, as she shouted, that she was drawing looks and she wasn't in her disguise. It had failed while she was snarling at Joker in the Korma, and just right this minute, it wouldn't come back. So she rolled forwards, ignoring the looks as she dashed on all fours around a corner, into a back alley. She ran behind a dumpster and collapsed with her back to the wall, drew her knees up against her chest, and tucked her face in as she hugged herself. She heaved and shuddered, ears flat and tail tucked in against herself as she bawled.
Was Joker watching?
Everything she touched always fell apart. She broke everything. All she ever did was hurt people. Even when she didn't mean to.
No wonder Adora left her.
Was Joker just a manifestation of what she deserved? Is this what happens to monsters? On this world, she was definitely a monster. There weren't any beast people here. If anyone found her like this and realized she wasn't wearing a costume, they'd be after her. That's what she'd been told. They'd lock her up, cut her up, study her and never let her go. Obsidian were the only people who'd take her in, and she'd thought she'd be fine, climb the ranks just like she did with the Horde, eventually... she was going to depose Hordak and take over sooner or later. As soon as the Rebellion was over. She could've done it. Maybe she could've even fixed things with Adora, shown her that she was wrong about Catra, wrong about the Horde, wrong about the Rebellion and the Princesses...
But Adora hadn't been wrong, had she? If she'd been wrong, Catra would have never pulled that lever. But she did, knowing full well the consequences and not caring. If that's not the definition of a monster, than what is? And here she is, getting exactly what she deserves. She leans her head back and looks up, gazing at the sky between the tops of two buildings, with raindrops plummeting down from above. They land on her face, mingling with her tears, but she can still see more than well enough. Either building would be easy enough to climb. Either one is over a dozen stories tall.
Either one would be more than high enough, if someone were to fall off of one and plummet to the ground. It probably wouldn't even hurt. It certainly wouldn't matter if anyone realized she really was a cat and not a human, afterwards. It might even be better.
But it wouldn't be better for Rashmi; it's not as if Joker would let her off the hook, would he? So Catra hauls herself back to her feet, and rubs her eyes with her knuckles. You're getting just what you deserve, Catra. No use complaining about it. You wanted to be the monster. You wanted to be the villain. You didn't stop to think about what it would cost, but the bill is due regardless. Go deal with the consequences of your choices and stop being such a coward.
She takes a deep breath, and trudges back out of the alleyway. As she walks, she finally restores the illusion, returning to hiding herself from the world as Rachel Miller; and for once, for the first time, it feels comforting, not to be herself. To be someone else. Even if it is completely fake. She pauses at the edge of the alley, looking at the wet, dreary streets around her, and flips the hood of her hoodie up over her head, hiding that too as she drags herself up the sidewalk, hands in her pockets, looking for a door she can use to duskport back to Obsidian.
She has work to do.