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memory: Scorpia
Mar. 31st, 2020 09:58 pm[Catra has scaled a massive humanoid statue, sitting with one knee drawn up and her arm propped on it, looking over a massive sea. She looks around, frowning, and then taps the badge on her chest to activate some sort of communication system.]
Catra: Hey, Scorpia, where are you? It's not like you to be late.
[She looks around again, then draws both knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them, looking a little forlorn.]
Catra: . . .Listen. I'll kill you if you tell anyone this, but. I thought winning would be. . . different. Or least more, I don't know. Fun?
[There's a pause, and she gets no reply.]
Catra: Come on, you're not still mad about before, are ya? Stop being so sensitive and get over it and talk to me, Scorpia!
Scorpia?
Scorpia?!
[She jumps down off the sculpture, moving from ledge to ledge on all fours, and heads for one of the Horde skiffs to take her back to the Fright Zone.
A little time passes, blurred, in the memory, and it picks up by the time she's made her way back to the Fright Zone, rushing down the halls to Scorpia's private room. She bursts in the door, looking around. It's a little less impersonal than most of the Fright Zone tends to be, with red crystals, a family photo of little baby Scorpia and her moms, and a stuffed scorpion on what serves as the nightstand, and various pictures posted on the wall behind the bed. Two of them are photographs featuring Scorpia, Catra, and a purple-haired girl (Entrapta), and another is a poorly drawn doodle of Catra. Emily the robot also makes an appearance.]
Catra: Scorpia? . . .Scorpia?
[The second time she calls out, she hears her own voice echoing back at her. On the bed is a pile of folded clothes, and another badge is lying on top of it with a folded piece of paper. Catra picks the whole bundle up, unfolding the letter to read it –– what it says exactly is blurred, in the memory, but her reaction goes from confusion and worry to shock, and then a sort of numb sadness. She lets the whole bundle slide out of her hands and drop to the floor, just standing over it. She's not sure for how long.]
Catra: Hey, Scorpia, where are you? It's not like you to be late.
[She looks around again, then draws both knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them, looking a little forlorn.]
Catra: . . .Listen. I'll kill you if you tell anyone this, but. I thought winning would be. . . different. Or least more, I don't know. Fun?
[There's a pause, and she gets no reply.]
Catra: Come on, you're not still mad about before, are ya? Stop being so sensitive and get over it and talk to me, Scorpia!
Scorpia?
Scorpia?!
[She jumps down off the sculpture, moving from ledge to ledge on all fours, and heads for one of the Horde skiffs to take her back to the Fright Zone.
A little time passes, blurred, in the memory, and it picks up by the time she's made her way back to the Fright Zone, rushing down the halls to Scorpia's private room. She bursts in the door, looking around. It's a little less impersonal than most of the Fright Zone tends to be, with red crystals, a family photo of little baby Scorpia and her moms, and a stuffed scorpion on what serves as the nightstand, and various pictures posted on the wall behind the bed. Two of them are photographs featuring Scorpia, Catra, and a purple-haired girl (Entrapta), and another is a poorly drawn doodle of Catra. Emily the robot also makes an appearance.]
Catra: Scorpia? . . .Scorpia?
[The second time she calls out, she hears her own voice echoing back at her. On the bed is a pile of folded clothes, and another badge is lying on top of it with a folded piece of paper. Catra picks the whole bundle up, unfolding the letter to read it –– what it says exactly is blurred, in the memory, but her reaction goes from confusion and worry to shock, and then a sort of numb sadness. She lets the whole bundle slide out of her hands and drop to the floor, just standing over it. She's not sure for how long.]
