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prince-toffee · 2 years

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The Defects

CHAPTER 1 - Trails and Funerals

BOOM. A sonic boom to be more precise. The grey, cloudy, skies parted as The Annihilation traversed them at impossibly high speeds. To the Castle Guards on the ground, the image above them wasn't completely obvious at first. The black shape proceeded to move closer and closer to them. The infamous silhouette became more and more defined and recognisable, a bat, or bat-like. That was a symbol well known to all people of that world, and a symbol they didn't quite like seeing.

In a matter of seconds, it was clear what the shape was, a craft, a spaceship, as they called them. That would be a ship which sails through the void of space and the ever-expanding oceans of stars. The sight of such a craft always took the breath away from most Etherians, as they should have, they were miracles of science. Spaceships were a regular commodity for most worlds across the universe and the awe of the Etherian people came from the fact that the ships were a brand-new concept for a 'medieval' world such as theirs. Must have been exciting and quite scary times to be alive for them.

As the ship approached the grand doorsteps of Castle BrightMoon it became quite clear who the ship belonged to. The space worthy vehicle presented a symbol of a purple kit-diamond. The insignia of the ex-Lord of The Etherian Horde. The Horde had been defeated and dissolved approximately one year ago. For decades the symbol represented the opposition to BrightMoon and the enemy to the heroic Princess Alliance. For many people on the side of BrightMoon it was a sign of evil and tyranny. Rightfully so.

I know it’s a lot of names, just stay with me.

And on the other hand, the symbol of the diamond represented righteousness, justice, and power for those who sided with him. Around three decades ago when the now ex-Lord first appeared on the scene, with him he brought The Horde. He declared war on BrightMoon and its Queen. And the fact was not everyone was in favour of BrightMoon, many of the poorer less-humanoid species on the planet sided with The Horde.

But the war... it was all over now.

The ship had two primary colours, that being black; the main colour of the hull, and red which ran along the plating of the ship in the form of neon highlights. The wings of the craft simulated the pattern of bat wings. The wings angled down, and a low hum emerged from the machine. The craft was roughly a metre above the ground, the proximity caused large gusts of wind to kick up dust. The Guards had no reaction, did not even flinch. Never did.

The Annihilation rotated so that the back of the ship was facing The Guards and the castle doors. The ship's bay door opened, and its boarding ramp descended, individual steps flipped up and out. From the belly of the ship, lit up by red lights, emerged a figure.

Hordak.

He stepped forth out of the shadows and made a small leap down onto the castle steps. There he was, and what a sight it was. It was like seeing big foot in bright daylight. No one had seen the man for an entire year, people knew of him, but you could imagine the crazy conspiracy theories that surrounded him. That he was a mutated bat creature. A demon that was the brother of the late-Queen of BrightMoon. That he was an undead Princess seeking vengeance against those who wronged him. That one made Hordak chuckle, because he felt like people went to extremes on those stories, and they didn't have to since he was an actual alien. From space. And he was a clone. How was that not enough for conspiracy theorists?

The craft blasted off back into the skies where it disappeared in seconds, out of range of any eyes. The Guards attempted not to stare at the man as he passed them, but inside of their helmets many of them were seething with rage. If their orders weren't any different, they'd probably jump him at that very moment. They just watched him march slowly up the steps to the grand door.

He stayed silent, not a word said. The only sound emanating from the moving figure was that of the clanking of metallic heels of his boots against the floor of the castle, and the hydraulic hissing of his mechanical armour.

The boogeyman in question looked ageless to most Etherians as most did not know how to perceive age in his kind. Many have thought of Hordak to be 'old'. Speculated that he was thousands of years old, hundreds of thousands even. Some even said he was millions of years old, that he was some eldritch entity of horror, evil personified and eternal, an immortal curse. He wished. But no. Hordak was actually young by clone standards, by regular Etherian years he was in his mid-forties. Though the guesses weren't completely ridiculous since many of his brother were in those age ranges. He, of course, never commented on the rumours. The conspiracies helped with the public image. Fear of the unknown was key.

Not many individuals had seen Hordak, but those that have never forgot the sight, the alien was like nothing the world of Etheria had ever seen. Well, until the invasion. The creature Hordak was, was often compared to a bat, or a doberman, or a combination of the two. He was slim and lanky, like a walking rectangle. He was taller than anyone he faced, he recalled only a handful of people he looked up to.

Hordak had no horns, but his silhouette suggested that he did, giving him a devil-like guise. And since most people most of the time saw the dark Lord as a shadowy black silhouette from a distance, while they were kneeling under him at the foot of the steps leading to his throne, they perceived it as such. But in fact, it was just his long pointy ears, slanted and pointing into the sky.

His silhouette always seemed even more menacing and threatening thanks to his blood red eyes. No pupils or irises. Nothing that resembled humanity in any way.

It really cemented the whole demonic look. His teeth were of the same red as his eyes, they were sharp, canines as fangs.

His face stood out from most of his body, bone white plating covered his face, a sharp contrast against his matt black skin. A square jaw and cheek bones with which you could cut diamonds.

If you looked closely, you could see... there was no word for them... seams, grooves? Teasing at Hordak's cyborg nature, and his dark past. Seams, line where two pieces of fabric are sewn together, that seemed to be a better word. Hordak was a doll, a puppet, all his life. However instead of cotton he was stuffed with high-tech enhancements.

The seams ran across his bronze face, up and down and diagonal. Leading from his square chin to his pronounced top lip covered in black lipstick. To his heart-shaped skeletal nasal cavity. To his two blood red eyes in the shape of four-sided diamonds. His face resembled a metallic skull.

There was a curly tuft of dark blue hair on top his head. Hordak often combed his pointy fingers through the hair to pull it backward to make it seem presentable. But there was always that one rogue curl that fell down against his face. He found that infuriating, he believed it made him look unkept and unprofessional.

His wife often said she loved it, but she wasn't a reliable account, she was biased, she loved everything about him.

The sound of his footsteps was accompanied by the bellowing of his black cape and dress. His knee-high silver boots had contributed to the clanking sound of his march.

Most of his body was protected by a greyish-black metallic armour. The armour was a work of art, a miracle of engineering, but from the outer perspective it looked like it was built out of cables and junk. Neon red lights built into the armour. The symbol at the centre of his chest, a gear cog with a purple diamond at the centre.

The gauntlets he wore as a part of his armour were his personal favourite component. They looked cold, metallic, and rough on the outside, but on the inside, they were soft and silky smooth. They reminded him of his beloved. She wore similar designed gloves since she designed them herself and gifted them to Hordak as an anniversary present. That woman didn't have to, but she gave him so much.

That woman was a genius. She and Hordak worked together on constructing the armour which held him together. And many other experiments along the way. Hordak’s most cherished memories.

However, something she did not help with was the black dress Hordak incorporated into the armour. He loved that woman to death, but his partner had no sense of fashion or style.

The dress had two long slits on the sides, revealing the ex-warlord's thighs, his healthiest and strongest features. It was a psychological tactic, he said. Showing off a key area of healthy flesh to deflect any suspicion or conspiracy of him being ill or sick in any way. Which of course he was, deathly. Anyone who laid eyes upon the dark Lord, as rare as it was, thought he was a modern Adonis. No one suspected that the monster man was frail and weak, slowly falling apart.

The towering dark figure stopped just in front of the large entrance doors. He breathed in and out, his chest rose and fell. He really did not want to do what was about to happen. He rubbed the bridge of his nasal cavity in annoyance, he closed his eyes, and gritted his teeth. He hated showing up in public, especially when he was the main focus.

God, he hated people.

He huffed, and extended his hand forward, and knocked on the enchanted wood.

It took a moment for the doors to open. No doubt the Guards were looking at him through the enchanted purple wooden doors. Supposedly that was one of the properties the wood had. The doors were sculpted out of some special magical tree, which belonged to The Whispering Woods, the enchanted maze of pink bark trees with leaves of a range of blue shades, which surrounded the Castle BrightMoon. The forest acted as a defence mechanism against enemy forces, the forest was a maze that shifted endlessly confused and disorienting anyone who wished harm upon BrightMoon and its occupants. Hordak only heard the tale from his soldiers, they were native to the planet unlike him. But he didn't know how he felt about any of that. Hordak was a man science. And he was plunged into a world of magic. It was like putting a fish on land.

Well, he did know how to feel about that, he hated it. Hordak hated magic.

While he waited for the Guards to let him in, he was sure they were nervous about his presence, he gave the walls of the castle a once over. A building of bright colours stood in front of him, pinks, purples, whites, blues, silver, and gold. The castle consisted of a main structure, which stretched several metres up into the sky, it towered over the towering man, diminishing him. Now his abnormal height meant nothing. The structure was accompanied by several towers on its sides.

The main building extended backward through the mountain behind it. The mountain itself was carved out and most of the actual castle resided inside it. The planet's most skilful and talented sculptors and carpenters from across three generations worked tirelessly night and day to construct the glorious, awe-inspiring fortress. Fathers passed on the responsibility down to their sons and those sons passed the duty over to their sons, who finally fulfilled their grandfathers' dreams. All generations were obviously compensated fairly by the royal family, and their work was immortalised in the palace of angels which stood to this day.

And even in the present-day Hordak appreciated and marvelled at the masterful work. He could not even see the top of the castle from where he stood. He wondered if the native people took comfort in being dwarfed by it.

Hordak was brought out of his admiration of the castle by the sound of the enchanted wooden doors swinging open. Its creaking was loud and heavy, like logs cracking and snapping. The entrance opened up to him, light cascading into the purple hallway casting his elongated shadow onto the immaculate reflective floors. The Guards remained silent as he set foot inside the castle. Just in time as the sound of thunder could be heard in the distance outside, rain was coming.

And so, he marched forth his heavy metallic footsteps echoed throughout the halls, he marched off through the corridors striding with purpose. As he made his way slowly through the hallways of BrightMoon he attracted all manner of eyes. Fearful eyes, and hate-filled eyes alike. There were many citizens within the halls both because they all wanted to gather and observe the coming event, and also because the royal family were charitable enough to allow those unfortunate enough to not have a shelter to live inside the walls of the beautiful castle, in the many guest rooms.

The chatter of small talk was silenced in his proximity, any expressions of joy were immediately converted to frowns and scowls.

On his way something caught his eye. There was a statue, a sculpture protruding out from the marble wall. It was a display, like something out of a museum. He had to admit the sculpture work was very impressive, the detail was outstanding. Even if the monument wasn't too flattering to Hordak. The statue, which was more like multiple statues all attached and connected together by a base, presented the setting of a battlefield. At the centre of the artistic piece was a... 'stylised' depiction of Hordak. He was monstrous, animalistic, and demonic. A forked tongue, hooves, and an arrowhead tail. The tail wrapped around a bundle of crying babies. An interesting stylistic choice he noted.

Surrounding him were the stoic, heroic, and courageous members of the Princess Alliance. A cast of colourful characters, each with a unique set of powers and abilities, each hero representing a Queendom of their own. Hordak's old archenemies, until he gave up and lost the war. All of the heroes held weapons in hands and were caught in the snapshot of driving Hordak away, banishing him in some way. That did not depict an actual event that happened, it rather represented a more of a metaphorical defeat.

But the art piece wasn't what caught his eye, it was the woman studying and appreciating the piece. She was on his right. She made eye contact with him. By the uniform armour he deducted she was a Castle Guard. Her eyes tracked him as he passed her, glaring at him coldly, boring into him. There was a dagger at her hip, and her hand seemed eager to draw the weapon. The woman was not wearing the helmet all Guards were obligated to wear. She stood out. She was blonde, long hair draped over her shoulders. Caucasian, pale skin. Didn't catch the colour of the eyes. He could feel the rage eradicating from her. He did not feel like waiting around for that hand to reach for that dagger. He moved on.

Soon he reached his destination. In front of the doors leading to the court chamber were two final Guards. Silvery helmets and purple capes. Their eyes were not visible, covered in shadow. They all looked the same, he supposed that was the purpose of the unified armour. The Guards were silent, so was Hordak, there was nothing to be said. They pushed the doors open.

As the doors swung open, the loud chatter was silenced. Hordak was introduced to the view of an ornate room, two rows of seating on left and right leading to a standing desk set in front of a panel of judges. The judges in question being the Princess Alliance, Etheria's mightiest heroic protectors.

All turned to watch him enter. Hordak attempted to ignore the preying eyes and continued to stroll down the central aisle. You could hear a pin drop. In a couple of strides, he reached the podium. There was a glyph etched into the wood of the desk, it acted as a microphone, it was a spell which magnified the volume of the speaker's voice.

Hordak had to admit Etherian society was fascinating. However, the planet was primitive, they had to compensate for the lack of technology with the use of 'magic'. And in a way the arts of magic also held back the progression of the planet. There was no need for technology in that world. Who needs an elaborate mechanism such as an elevator when you have a levitation spell? Who needs insulated houses and internal heating when you have a fire spell? Or a microphone when you had an amplification spell.

It allowed their society to advance in strange ways, to Hordak it all seemed unnatural. He knew that glyphs were a staple of the magical arts on Etheria. Hordak had little to no understanding of what magic was, how it worked, or how it could have been utilised as a tool.

The glowing pattern of glyphs were some sort of gates or windows which summoned magic in its various forms. They were the basic building blocks of life. He also didn't know how close he had to be to the amplification glyph, he presumed they wanted to see him bow down.

In front of him, looming over the alien, were the members of the Princess Alliance. All of whom were Princesses, landowners of royal families across the world. Hordak had to confess that he did not know all their names, nor did he care to learn them.

At the middle sat the leader of the Alliance, and the Queen of BrightMoon, Queen Glimmer. A young woman with a lot of responsibility and expectation weighing on her shoulders. She had quite large shoes to fill after her mother's death. Which Hordak was partially responsible for, a story for another time. She sported a purple and pink colour palette. She was the Queen of Fire, Heat, and Light. And she was praised as a Goddess. Many of the royals were.

On the Queen's side sat Princess Mermista, the ruler of the Queendom of Salineas, and the angsty loner of the group. Princess of oceans, seas, lakes, and toilets. Or something like that.

Mermista. Hated. Him. With a burning passion. Understandably so, since Hordak and his faction were responsible for much of her Queendom's destruction. The three-decade war between the allied Queendoms of the Princess Alliance, and The Horde left many scars on the planet. Homes were devastated, lands scorched, lives lost. Salineas suffered worse than most, it was a key target to The Horde, a trade point controlling the goods which came in and through to mainland.

And it was clear that she was enjoying this a little too much in Hordak's opinion. The dark blue haired woman, armoured in an enchanted chainmail of scales from sea creatures unimaginable to regular land-lovers, looked down on the alien. A wide smile plastered across her face. Hordak hated that face. But he remained silent. He'd just have to ignore her; this ordeal was going to be over soon.

The only one of them Hordak remotely cared about, other than his beloved, was The She-Ra, Lady Adora. Who was also missing from the meeting. It seemed as if the most powerful woman in the universe was busy elsewhere, probably saving the world in some way. Hordak owed her his life, and believed he was indebted to the hero, so he attempted to be extra kind to the heroine when present.

Adora was not the only member absent. Mermista noticed it too, the empty seat on the other side of Glimmer. Princess Entrapta was missing. Mermista's expression soured, she was mildly infuriated. It was clear that Entrapta did not bother showing up as she decided she would not endure watching her ‘partner’ being put on trial.

With the Queen clearing her throat, the trial had officially begun. The Trial of Hordak had begun.

All heads turned from observing Hordak to Glimmer. All eyes fixated on her. The power and authority had been established. Her expression betrayed no nerves or doubt. Her purple glistening eyes locked onto Hordak beneath her. Her fire hair danced and twirled; it was almost hypnotising.

The woman began, "Please be seated and silent. Let The Trial of Hordak commence. We are here to discuss, by loud and popular public demand, the crimes undisputedly committed by one 'Hordak', previous 'Lord' of 'The Horde'. An evil faction which waged war against our glorious Queendom of BrightMoon, and the Princess Alliance, and all the united Queendoms the alliance represents. Spear-heading a three-decade long war. Responsible for the devastation of numerous settlements across the lands. Responsible for taking the lives of countless innocents through this war. And responsible for bringing the unfathomable evil of The Horde to the planet of Etheria, our beautiful green planet."

Hordak remained silent. Unfazed by the words spoken by the Queen. It was clear that he was irritated and did not want to be there. He did not, in the slightest, look like he was regretful or remorseful about anything. That was what they saw from the outside. And perhaps that was true, or perhaps... the devil himself had some shred of shame in his soul... But probably not.

Hordak did time to time flinch at the bright flashes of light bursting out of the glyphs. They were taking photographs, or their magic equivalent of. The journalists were actually capturing the specific moment in time in a containment spell. Some others were recording and transmitting the scene across the planet, opening window rifts in the time-space (or space-time) continuum, allowing thousands of non-present spectators to watch the historic trial unfold. It was a camera, a very complicated and magical camera. Lord. Hordak really did hated magic.

Of course, not necessarily the entire planet was watching, only a small percentage of the Etherian population was capable of manifesting window rifts. Magical glyphs were not everyday household items. Being born with magical abilities on Etheria was far more common than anywhere else in the universe, but it was still rare. And getting a contractor and filling out all that paperwork just to get a window rift glyph was just such a hassle, not worth the trouble. Instead, people just gathered around public areas to watch the trial, such as marketplaces or bars.

Mermista, Princess of Salineas, expected to enjoy the trial more than she actually was, her enjoyment began to dip as it went on. Glimmer reminded her that the purpose of the event was not for her amusement and to get over herself, which she never did. Merry would glare from time to time at the empty seat, the one where Entrapta was meant to be. She and Entrapta weren't exactly friends, colleagues more like, they were both royalty therefor apart of the Alliance. Many called them heroes of ‘super’natural nature, you know super-do-gooders. But the rest of the society found Entrapta to be... immoral in some ways, she was called a mad-scientist for a reason. Merry kept an eye on her, didn’t trust her much, and when it came out that the scientist was 'lab-partners' with the Lord of The Horde, well, it was something.

In front of them still stood an uninterested Hordak, bored even. Glimmer continued on with her monologue.

"Hordak. What will proceed now is a questioning procedure to ultimately determine whether you are guilty and responsible for the crimes committed by The Horde against Etheria, and how to punish you. As Queen of BrightMoon, and through being leader of the Princess Alliance: I am the ruling Queen of all major Queendoms, I hold the power to appoint accuser, judge, and jury. And I appoint myself. In fairness and equality, I appoint you defender. Do you understand?"

"Yes." Hordak replied in a monotone voice.

This was the part Merry enjoyed the most, a smile returned to her face.

"Excellent." Glimmer continued, "What will take place next is: I will ask a 'yes-or-no' question. You will answer with a 'yes' or a 'no'. There will be no 'I don't know', there will be no 'From a certain point of view'. This is not a conversation, not an argument, it is a statement. There is the truth and there is the lie. There is nothing in between. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Thirty-One years ago, you crash landed as a lone survivor onto the surface of our planet."

"Yes."

"You took control of the neighbouring Queendom of Scorpion Hill."

"Yes."

"You did so by murdering the royal family."

"I di- No. Yes. I-" It wasn’t that simple.

"Let it be known the answer was recorded as 'Yes'. Continuing onwards. You amassed a following of Etherians and led a war against the Queendom of BrightMoon and anyone who stood against you."

"Yes."

"You enlisted the help of the disgraced sorceress Shadow Weaver."

"Technically it was her who approached me."

"Yes or No."

"Yes."

"You are responsible for my mother's death."

"Ugh no I-... Yes, very well, yes."

"You created the portal machine which brought your old master to our hidden world. ‘Horde Prime’ and his armada laid waste to our lands and the armies of your 'brothers' crushed any rebellion against Prime, leaving us at his mercy."

"...Yes." Could it be? A shred of shame?

"However, one of our members has argued in your favour. Believing that your punishment should be lessened under the belief that you and all your brothers were under the influence of mind-control. It is true that Prime had weaponised mind-altering substances against your 'brothers' and our own citizens. So, 'Lord' Hordak, were you under influence of Horde Prime, when you committed all these atrocities all these years?"

"...No."

"I see. And with that we arrive at the final question of this trial. Hordak, are you sorry for what you have done?"

It was a simple question, and yet it gave him pause. Glimmer knew the questions weren't formal, they were emotional, and she knew they'd set him off. But it didn't matter, the whole thing was scripted anyway. He knew he had to just say 'No', play the villain. He just had to grit his teeth and make it through the circus. But he stuttered. Why? Even he himself was not entirely sure. Was there a shred of goodness in his blackened heart? Was the monster sorry for what he had done?

He knew very well the lives and homes lost caused by his villainous conquest. All his life, all the time he had been trapped on Etheria, he never cared about another species, never thought to care, was never taught to care, didn't truly know what care meant.

He and his brothers were created to be soldiers, not even, they were weapons, tools, objects. The clones were seen as nothing more than objects by their creator and the rest of the universe. All they knew was the mission, the cause, and the belief. Atrocities which the armies of clones committed were always for their master, to make Him proud. Hordak never knew he was doing anything wrong. In his mind he was on a holy crusade. But Hordak had lost faith. He was betrayed. He finally saw through the act and saw his master as a fraud.

The irony and hypocrisy of it all wasn’t lost on him. His ‘Brother’ never saw any worth in him and he never saw any worth in the inhabitants of Etheria. But then again, it wasn’t his problem.

“No.” He replied. Those people hated him, many of his own brothers hated him, that or any other world never gave him any favours. The universe hated clones. The universe hated his face.

After decades of rotting and decaying, after being dragged through Hel and back on this world, he had very little fondness left for the backwater rock.

He could confidently say that he only liked one person on the face of the world, and it wasn’t even himself.

He snapped out of his thought process as the crowds of people erupted in outrage at his response. Insults weren’t the only things thrown, he definitely felt something hit him. Maybe they had brought rotten tomatoes just for this occasion, he thought. He wouldn’t put it past them. That had Merry grinning, the other Princesses seemed indifferent. The Queen quickly brought an end to the commotion, with a single motion. She slammed her fist into the desk in front of her, pink light emanated from the woman, lighting up the entire court room. It forced Hordak to extend his hand out in front of his face to protect his sensitive eyes. Everyone fell silent. It was at times such as those that Hordak envied the elemental powers of the Princesses.

“No.” She repeated, “No? No, he does not. Not sorry for his actions. Not ashamed of his crimes. Then that tells me Mr Hordak that we have a problem at our hands. And we are in need of a solution.”

“It appears so.” He spoke out of line.

For Mermista, and most of the watching world, the solution was death. Befitting of a monster such as him. A swift execution, an act of avengement for all that was lost. Merry thought that Glimmer was dragging it out unnecessarily, they could have just done an execution without the trial, it was just wasting everyone’s time. The Alliance were protectors of Etheria, they were meant to deal with things like Hordak, they shouldn’t have troubled their people with any of this. And she felt like she had a right to want it, Salineas suffered more than most Queendoms. Hordak had to pay.

Glimmer continued, “Hordak. From now on, for the safety of the people of Etheria, you are sentenced to government mandated and controlled... Community Service.”

The silence remained; this time perpetuated by confusion. Definitely something unexpected. Hordak knew he was on thin ice, but he couldn’t help it, a wide grin formed on his face, directed at Mermista. Oh, and she. Was. Fuming. Eyes twitching, fists tightening, teeth gritting. With her super strength she could have easily torn the table in front of her in half and thrown it across the room at him. But she didn’t. Some level of restraint remained.

“Hordak of The Horde. With power and authority bestowed upon me by the title of ‘Queen’, I sentence you to servitude to the Queendoms. To become an agent of the Queen, to serve like all my subjects, and seek redemption on this path. If anything is required of you from the Queendoms, you shall do it. If I order you to complete a task, you shall carry it out without fail or hesitation. You shall begin with aiding with the reconstruction efforts for Salineas. And in return your prison sentence will be reduced. And per your request for the deal, all charges of War-Crime Immorality against your ‘partner’ will be dropped. We look forward to working with Princess Entrapta and the Queendom of Dryl. Happy?”

“Happy. May I leave now?”

“Of course, soldier. I didn’t want to keep you here too long, don’t wanna be late. Give my greetings to the bastard.” She smiled innocently.

Hordak nodded. He turned around and began to make his exit, ignoring the yelling and screaming. Merry’s roaring almost burst Glimmer’s eardrums. He caught something about ‘Oh so he picks up some litter and trash off the street and he’s officially pardoned?! What the Hel does ‘Community Service’ mean?!’ Or something to that effect. He did not stay to hear the rest; he was already out the door.

“What the Hel was that?! Are we in a circus!? I thought we agreed that that monster deserved to get his head hacked off!”

“I said he’d pay, and he will. He’s on a leash. I got him tied around my finger. Boogeymen under the bed can fit in spaces we can’t. He’s more useful to use alive.”

“Fine. But we’re supposed to be a team, we make decisions together, right? What would Adora think?”

“She vouched for him.” That marked the end of the discussion. Glimmer walked off not even looking back at Merry. The Queen met up with her Captain of the Guard, who wasn’t any happier than Mermista was. And she was escorted to her personal office through the crowd of raging people.

As Hordak marched on out through the same way he entered, he noticed the blonde woman who studied his statue was now gone.

---

The Annihilation rocketed through the night skies of Etheria, a calibre of transport never seen on the relatively primitive planet. It was capable of traveling to other galaxies in mere hours. So, traveling to ‘The Root’ was no time at all. The dropship landed right on the outskirts of the graveyard, its platform steps folded out and Hordak stepped out and into the dark field.

He marched onward through the rows of makeshift gravestones, most had ‘Unnamed’ etched on them. Very few had names, however Hordak had spotted a lonely family paying their respects at one of the graves. They were far away, Hordak couldn’t see if that gravestone in particular had a name attributed to it, or if the family just guessed which one to gather around. Most were unknown, not only because clones, as the term would suggest, were genetically identical, but also because many of them never had identities of their own. Never had a name. Never had any dreams. Never had individual though. They were lost before they found themselves. He noticed the family, the family noticed him, but no words were spoken. He marched on.

The graves were the resting places of Hordak’s brothers, the clones that had died on that planet. The universe was littered with graveyards such as those. And yet, he did not know any of them. After all there was nothing to know, especially about a soulless clone without a name. Until Etheria. After the invasion one year ago, after the defeat of Horde Prime, the surviving clones were free. Free to have private thoughts in their own heads. Free to take up a name for themselves. And free to find themselves. Some even found families on Etheria, Hordak among them.

Far on his left stood the hill on top of which Adora the She-Ra had saved and spared his life, one year ago. Ever since he has been in her debt.

Far above him, just out of the reach of the planet’s gravitational pull, loomed ‘The Velvet Glove’, the grand capital warship of The Galactic Horde. An empire he was once proudly a part of. Now ashamed. He had nothing but hate for it in his heart. The warship was also a space station, the largest space worthy structure in the known universe. No longer functional now. It posed no threat as the She-Ra had in their final battle transformed the station into a massive tree with her magic. Hordak did not even begin to try to understand how.

Magic. He scoffed to himself, it did his head in. He was a man of science, through and through.

Moments later his brothers came into view. All four of them. Four still figures coated in darkness, the rising moon was the only source of illumination, that and the neon red highlights running across their suited bodies. Each silhouette and figure was different from the other, and unique in their own ways. They stood around an open dug out grave, two on each side. The gravestone once again read ‘Unnamed’. The grave looked no different from any other except for it being open and being set in front of a tree. Hordak approached the hole, gazed down to see the coffin was already at the bottom.

The alien moved past his silent brothers and took his place between the grave and the headstone. Next to him was a pile of dirt, one of his brothers already had a shovel in hand. Darkness was taking over the sky, it was getting late. And so, the five of them remained silent, in the dark. The only sound around them was the dancing of wind, and the bellowing of Hordak’s black cape.

There was much to be said, but none of them knew what to say, how to say it, or if it should be said. Many emotions, traumas, and memories swirled around them in the moment. A lot of pain. But they were safe now, they were free now. Hordak’s expression softened up.

He finally spoke up, because someone had to, “Does anyone have any last words?”

They all looked at each other, obviously no one wanted to begin, this was a sore topic. But Leech responded faster than expected, breaking the silence, his tone was laced with venom and hate, “It should’ve been us.”

Funny enough even though they all were clones, began with the same genetic template, they were all quite distinguishable. They all had similar aspects, all unhealthy thin, shared the same face, red eyes, long pointy ears, fangs, and claws. Among other attributes. But what distinguished him immediately was the fact he had no mouth. So, he communicated through telepathy, all clones could communicate in such a manner, but most didn’t want to, as now that all their brothers were free, they preferred privacy in their own minds. For some using mouths was funny. Since Lee had no bottom jaw, that was all he had. He had his arms folded.

Next to Lee sat V, who’s legs dangled down into the hole of the grave, he kicked his legs playfully. He responded as he looked up at his friend, “What does it matter? He’s dead! That’s all that matters. So what the Valkyrie lady fried Him?”

“I second that, with Him gone, everyone’ll sleep better. Hopefully.” From the other side Drag responded. Next to him Moe nodded without words.

Leech’s fists tightened, his claws digging into his palms, “He wasn’t her villain to defeat. After all He had done to us, all of us, we deserved to kill Him, a thousand times over! Our brothers deserved to line up in queues so each could take a piece out of Him!” Lee finished and no one had anything to add to that. In that quiet moment he realised he over did it, maybe at bit over the top. “I- Sorry, I just, He hurt us, He hurt me. I thought I’d feel better, feel vindicated... but I don’t feel any better.” V comedically patted his brother’s leg to comfort him, they all understood. He signed, “Anyone got anything else they wanna say?” His red eyes glowed as he spoke words through his mind.

After a moment V replied, “Alright, full transparency. Food. Not a fan. All mushy and you gotta swallow it and then it comes out. Gross. I way prefer-”

“He was a monster,” Moe cut him off, “He caused the deaths of trillions. He destroyed worlds. He tortured us. He was a mad man, a religious zealot who bought into His own lies after eons of immortal madness... But without Him... I would have never travelled to all those worlds; I would have never seen all their unique beauty. I would have never existed without Him.” No one looked at him, no one wanted to admit the truth, “He leaves behind a complicated legacy: Us.” He turned to his brothers, “Next?”

Moe was a giant. Not by himself. He was technically the shortest out of all of them since Moe was an amputee, his legs no more. He usually moved around by wheelchair, but in combat situations and when he anticipated them, he dawned his mech armour. A hulking piece of machinery. The armour tripled his height and width. The suit’s hands could hold an entire torso and had the strength to crush one. The helmet and chest of the suit were one piece, roughly resembling the appearance of a beetle or a mosquito. It was a walking bunker. Entrapta’s best armour design yet.

Drag the speedster of the group, went next, “I, uh, uhm, I never met Him. I know some of you did.” He unintentionally gazed at Lee and Hordak. He cleared his throat, “I’ve only seen Him on posters. From a far through holo-pillars when He addressed captive populations indirectly. And of course, in my head, when He took over my body or gave orders. Never met Him. But He gave me nightmares. Sleep was never pleasant. Like He was always there, gnawing at my brain... But uh, Miss Castaspella in therapy says I’m getting better!” His eyes and expression lit up slightly at the thought of the kind woman.

Drag too had a faceplate he wore as a mask resembling that of a gas mask, but he did actually have a mouth. He just covered it up to avoid flies flying into his red teeth since most times he spent sprinting at high speeds. The mask also helped hide his carved-up mouth and his missing teeth, which he was really sensitive about. He didn’t need goggles since his red lenses already protected his sensitive eyes from the wind. He wore the same black and red armour, even with it he looked sickly thin, because they all were. Probably his most apparent characterisation was his legs. Which resembled pocketknives starting at the knees and running down, thin blades protruding from the back calves. They of course flip out in combat situations.

“She’s a therapist, she says that to everyone.” V replied not even focusing.

If Moe had been near V right then and there, he would’ve socked V in the back of his head. Drag bowed his head down, he didn’t really pay any mind to it, V was just being his usual cynical self, “Anyway, yeah, He makes my skin crawl. V? You got anything you wanna say?”

Attention was drawn back to the vulture-like looking individual. He was quite possibly the most bizarre looking clone in their merry band, maybe even in the entire clone population. His defection had taken him down a path far weirder than most. The top half of V’s head was a red glass-like dome, like a radar display. You could barely make out some statistical data across the domed head. A long knife-like witch nose jut out of his slim face. The lower half of his face was standard, bone white, seams, sharp teeth. What he was best known for was his metallic wings, consisting of dozens of razorblades simulating the appearance of feathers. The wings were receded back into his long arms and back at that moment.

V said nothing for a moment, looking down at the dark grave. He smiled to himself, slightly showing off his teeth, “We’ll see how long it lasts. I’m not optimistic... But it is hilarious to see Him choking on dirt stuffed in a box, while we’re free up here breathin’ fresh air.” And that was his part said.

Finally, there was Hordak, all heads turned to their leader. Hordak knew it was his turn. He knew his time would come, but he in no way prepared. But he didn’t need to prepare, it came from the heart. He opened his mind to all the memories and the past hit him like a megaton bomb. He took a deep breath, in and out.

“I loved Him. I worshipped Him. Believed in Him. And He lied to us. Abandoned us. Cast us aside. From the moment we gained sentience, the moment we first opened our eyes and saw the world, the moment we arose from our cloning tanks, He seeded deception and falsehoods in our minds. We were force fed His propaganda from birth. He was everywhere, and He was everything. He taught us right and wrong through His twisted eyes. We knew nothing else. We were taught to believe. To love Him. I still remember what great pride and excitement I felt in my heart when he told us the stories. About how He was The Great Light, how He was enlightened, cosmic, messianic, He was Godly. And through us, His Hands, The Horde, we would save the universe from The Great Darkness. Enlighten the lost. By burning worlds to black ash. Life. Will. Freedom. All agents of chaos. For The Light to win total and absolute order must be imposed. For those planetary populations who did not believe in the message, they must have been force fed by The Hands. Quite non-sensical and farfetched when you look back at it now... but... yeah.”

Another moment of silence, heads bowed down in shame, “I loved him. And now God is dead... Maybe He rest peacefully. And good riddance.” He finished. And V spat on the coffin, a final gift to their ‘Big Brother’, a tribute to what his damned empire was worth. Hordak was sure the bastard was still smiling in there, even now.

The end of the funeral was marked by Lee beginning to shovel the first scoop of dirt from the pile on his side onto the coffin. The burial was quick, even though the others didn’t help. “Why do you even bother with this?” Hordak asked, “You know someone will find out this is His grave. And desecrate it. And if we fix it, someone else will vandalise it the next day.”

Lee stabbed the shovel into the dirt as he finished the task. He replied to his looming brother without even looking at him as he passed. “We don’t do it for Him, we do it for the clone whose body He possessed in his final moments. Everything we do, we do for them, in their name and memory.”

They both entered The Annihilation, and everybody immediately circled the war table, awaiting the briefing, all wanting to get the funeral off their minds. They were ready for the next mission. Hordak reached the head of the war-table, he noticed there was a call incoming, highest encryption frequency, meaning only one thing, Glimmer. Right on time.

Hordak pressed the flashing button. Queen Glimmer appeared in front of them in the form of a sized down hologram. For a short woman she was quite imposing, she had a certain air about her. A powerful presence. A phenomenon he was well acquainted with thanks to his beloved partner. Also, a short yet powerful woman. The ship only began to depart, and he already missed her. But he snapped back to the present as Glimmer began.

“Hordak,” She greeted him, he nodded in response, not even wasting a word. Glimmer continued, “All present? Good, let’s begin.” She extended her hand to the side not even looking, her Captain of The Guard stepped into view and handed a file to her. The Guard was a tall, muscular woman with blonde long hair, standard silver and purple armour uniform, and a cold gaze on her face. Hordak recognised her as the woman who observed the statue of him and the Princesses. She had a very memorable angry face.

“As you know it’s been a year since the defeat of Prime, which has drawn some unwanted attention to our, uhm, as you like to call it ‘primitive’ world. Prime’s warship armada we’ve... repurposed, works well as a deterrent to keep other more aggressive spacefaring forces at a safe distance away. But apparently not well enough. See this guy?” She transmitted an image through to their end. It was a medium close-up shot of an alien man, green bumpy skin, two antennas with bulbs at their ends sprouting from his forehead, as well as a pair extending from where normally a moustache would be. He looked extremely goofy. “May not look like much, but this is the ‘Minister of Military Arms and Defence’ for the planet of Primus. Horris Sol. He’s been publicly getting a little jealous of our newly acquired armada, and has a history of been rather trigger-happy. That’s where you’re heading. And that’s your target. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, and you will, because it’s mandatory: Is to kidnap Horris Sol and bring him back to Etheria for questioning. And I must emphasis this! This is a stealth mission! Do not get caught! Do not be seen! Do not let them track this debacle back to Etheria. Make quick work of this, please, I’d like to have this taken care of before Forever Day.”

The hologram turned off before Hordak could get a word in. With nothing left to say and the rest of info already transmitted to The Annihilation’s computer, they maned their positions and took off. The Annihilation rocketed off, gradually achieving speeds unobtainable to most people. The sound barrier broke with a thundering BOOM, and next the upper atmosphere. The ball of fire blasted into the manta black void of space where it cooled off.

Just out of the orbit, there it was. The warship armada, once belonging to their master, their ‘Big Brother’, now it was in the hands of the young Queen and her Alliance

Many clones lost after the death of Prime found a new calling there, onboard, under Glimmer’s command. It was all they knew, and they knew it well. So, guarding the planet became a part of the ‘Community Service’ programme led by Glimmer.

The Annihilation received a go-ahead from the fleet, meaning they could pass unharmed. And so, they did. Hordak, in the cockpit, pulled a level which activated the portal-engine and in mere seconds they were sailing across the ever-expanding oceans of stars at light speed. It was going to be a little while before they made it to Primus, so they waited, and when they arrived, they did not enjoy the surprise awaiting them.

The End of Chapter One

#entrapdak #hordak #entrapta #The Defects

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theprincessofpowerremake · 2 years

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information about beck

name - beck ( no memory of last name ) age - 18 ( beginning ) race/ethnicity/species - black-coded, etherian gender/sex/pronouns - agender - AFAB - they/them sexual orientation(s) - lesbian height - 5'11 .

backstory - they had a family. they're gone now.

. relationship with other characters . . . adora - friends to lovers dynamic, the two are very close with one another and understand each other completely. beck is very gentle and open with her.

glimmer - arms length at best for a while, as beck believed that glimmer was reckless, single-minded, and not open for proper discussions. after some events, the two become friendly and eventually actual friends.

bow - good friends with him. they both bond over their ability to craft weaponry, their appreciation for technology, and overall have nice vibes. beck comforted bow in his times of anger and sadness and confusion.

entrapta - more like peers than personal friends, but the two find comfort in each other's presence. they treat each other well, and beck gets very defensive when entrapta is treated differently.

mermista, perfuma, etc. - they're friendly, but as the princesses have their own kingdoms to worry about, they're often nothing more.

seahawk - punched the guy once. their relationship has been uh...friendly since.

swift wind - he's not annoying in this one, so beck likes him.

melog - beck's friend now.

hordak - beck has a personal drive for vengeance against him and most of the horde. reasons as to why seem obvious to the rebellion, but it's something deeper for them. they don't elaborate.

catra - i mean, she ain't alive in this AU past s1-s3 ( i haven't decided yet ), lmao, but beck hated her too.

the horde trio - was on edge with them, but grew soft with kyle.

scorpia - is kinda "harsh" with scorpia, but isn't cruel. they coexist.

shadow weaver - nearly killed her too, lol.

double trouble - dt's gross, so i'm either changing that or having beck fight them.

wrong hordak - "why doesn't he have an actual name?" ( that's all you need to know for rn- )

horde prime - ...do i have to say it-

if wanting more info, feel free to ask ^^ ( can't promise beck will give a full answer tho )

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flippingfrogg · 3 years

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Entrapdak Positivity Month: Day 11 (Prompt: Crafting/Art)

The day that Entrapta figured out that Hordak could sew was a tumultuous one. Though I suppose it shouldn’t be that much of a surprise, not many Etherians have his size and proportions

#digital art #fanart #hordak #entrapdak #entrapta #entrapdak positivity month

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harrelltut · 2 years

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#quantumharrelltech #Silent Black American Trillionaires #Secret Black Historical Society of San Diego #San Diego #2022 Fall of Boomer America #i love global warming

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entrapdaknation · 3 years

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I feel content after finishing the final chapter of Gossamer Threads. When I began the story in December 2020, it was the first time I’d written fan fiction (or fiction, period) in many years. I worried that my ability to write fiction may have atrophied from lack of use, but I surprised myself as the story took shape. The daydream in my head came into sharper focus, turning into a 22 chapter fanfic.

Part of what propelled me to write the story was a longing for a satisfying end to She-Ra. As many of you know, I was disappointed with season 5. Initially, I was euphoric that Hordak turned on Horde Prime, regained his memories, reunited with Entrapta, and survived the series. After the euphoria faded, I was unhappy with the fifth season’s flaws, including thematic inconsistency, squandered characters, and favoritism toward the creator’s pet.

Writing a fix-it fic was powerful because it allowed me to imagine a different story, one I found satisfying. It reminded me that fans don’t have to settle for a single version of a story, but rather we can imagine many possible stories. Canon does not have the last word. A story is only limited by the imaginations of its fans.

If there’s a character we love, we can give them adventures. If there’s a loose end in canon, we can resolve it. If there’s a theme that’s important to us, we can explore it. We can make stories our own.

(Spoilers for Gossamer Threads below the jump.)

By writing Gossamer Threads, I got to imagine a version of the She-Ra story in which Hordak assisted the Rebellion, came face-to-face with the people he hurt, and deepened his bond with Entrapta. I got to imagine his redemption. I got to imagine him doing more than just gathering dust on the Velvet Glove.

I got to imagine Adora ending up in a healthy romantic relationship with Glimmer. I got to imagine her reuniting with her family and her people.

I got to imagine Micah as a three-dimensional character, wrestling with his trauma and supporting Glimmer and Angella.

I got to imagine Angella safely returning to Etheria.

I got to imagine Imp reuniting with his “father”, performing an unexpected act of heroism, and growing up surrounded by his family.

I got to imagine Kadroh (Wrong Hordak) as more than comic relief, as a cult survivor who became deeply invested in his brothers’ freedom.

I got to imagine the Galactic Horde clones as people rather than mooks. I got to imagine Rebellion members expressing horror at their plight. I got to imagine clones such as Yudi and Pickles tasting freedom, coming to terms with Horde Prime’s wickedness, and helping their new allies liberate their brothers.

I got to imagine Hordak AND Catra facing consequences for their destructive acts, and fixing what they broke. I got to imagine Catra crafting a new sense of self, apart from Adora.

I got to imagine New Salineas rising from the rubble. I got to imagine Mermista and her people going home.

I got to imagine a backstory for the Scorpioni and the Etherian Horde.

I got to imagine Etheria going through radical, exciting changes after the fall of Horde Prime, with a hopeful future awaiting its people.

I got to imagine. It feels amazing to imagine.

#gossamer threads #fan fiction #spop #shera

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spacebatisluvd · 4 years

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Summary: Hordak navigates a new social setting with all the grace he can muster. (He's trying.)

Content Warning: Mermista is trying (but not very hard), Horde Prime's ableism and clone abuse, unhealthy mindsets, mild PTSD, references to chronic pain/disability.

Hordak hung back while Entrapta flitted about the clearing. He leaned against a tree, slipping into the metaphorical shadows. Scorpia was at Entrapta’s side and Sea Hawk trailed them both. Entrapta’s smile was big and broad as she turned in a circle, oohing over the newly decorated clearing. “This is really for me?” she asked.

Scorpia turned, looking at Mermista. She sighed and stepped forward. “Yeah, well....” She crossed her arms and looked away. “We, uh....” Adora cleared her throat, while Catra glared, tail twitching. “I felt bad. For making you feel like I didn’t want you here. We all did.”

Entrapta paused during her circuit of the clearing. Her hair pulled her toward Mermista in one long step, and now, spider-like, she loomed over her. “Really?” she asked, cocking her head. She pulled her mask down, cycling through the mask’s settings. “Are you just saying that to make me feel better?”

Mermista sighed. “No! Geeze, Geek Princess—of course we want you here.” She eyed Hordak with a sigh, but before she could say something she might regret, Sea Hawk looped his arms around her waist and grinned up at Entrapta.

“I for one am happy you’re both here!” he exclaimed.

Mermista grumbled a bit, but when Entrapta dropped to the ground in front of her, she offered a reserved smile. “Yeah, yeah,” she said, “I guess I’d rather keep an eye on him anyway.... So—sorry or whatever.” It was the closest approximation to an apology they could expect from her.

Perfuma approached from behind, offering a flower crown. “I’m sorry for any misunderstanding,” she said, holding out the flower crown. Entrapta took it in hand, but didn’t put it on. “I want this trip to be peaceful and relaxing for everyone.” She cast a nervous glance at Hordak. “If he’s your...chosen companion, then I’m happy to host him.” The vines in the trees slithered and their leaves rustled. “I’m sure he’ll be a good guest,” she said, still smiling.

Hordak cocked his head, not sure how to interpret the leaves’ fluttering. Entrapta just smiled hesitantly. “Of course! I told you; he’s very well mannered.”

The princess of Plumeria cast him an odd look. “If you say so.”

The young queen sidled up to Entrapta from the other side, smiling. “We’re glad you’re here.” The archer made an encouraging gesture, as if urging her on. “And we...want to get to know Hordak better too. Now that we’re not fighting or arguing over a treaty.” She actually offered him a smile, making him raise a brow-ridge.

Entrapta smiled, looking at all of them. “Thanks, guys. I’m really glad you’re giving him a chance. It means a lot.”

A rope of hair reached out, settling the flower crown on his head. He looked up at it and readjusted it so it was seated more comfortably on his head, then offered the staring Etherians a nod. The She-Ra pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, like she was trying to hide her smile, while the queen gave him a considering look. Perfuma seemed somewhat put-out that her carefully crafted crown had been passed on to him, and Mermista looked like she’d swallowed something sour. He ignored the doe-eyed looks he was getting from the archer, Scorpia, and Sea Hawk.

On Entrapta’s other side, the She-Ra guided her toward the tables of tiny food and fizzy drinks. Entrapta squealed, and Hordak smiled subtly, watching as she examined everything on offer.

“So, you guys are sticking around then?”

He turned to Catra, who had settled at his side in a too-casual slouch. He turned back to watch Entrapta. “So it would seem.”

“Good.”

He glanced at her, ears twitching. “You were not really going to leave for Salineas if we left, were you?”

She looked at him, then ducked her head and crossed her arms. “After Adora said she’d come too, I couldn’t exactly back out, could I?”

“Ah.”

She kicked idly at the ground. “And, I’ve been thinking, it’s not really...fair, is it?” He gave her a look, waiting. She sighed, arms crossed. “The treaty. You’re doing a lot of work to repair the damage the Horde caused, but...it’s not like you did that all on your own.”

He shook his head. “It was done on my orders or, at least, with my approval. It is my responsibility to repair.”

She shifted, looking uncomfortable. “Yeah, okay, but....” She sighed. “Look, if you want help with anything, I can probably slip away for a few days. Or something.”

“I am certain you have your own duties,” he said, folding his hands behind his back.

She looked at the ground, rubbing the back of her neck. “Not exactly.”

Entrapta’s sudden appearance in front of him interrupted the conversation. “Hordak! Look!”

A data pad was shoved in his face. He reared back, trying to get a good look, but Entrapta only raised herself up on her hair and pressed closer. “Bow’s designing a telescope!”

He finally managed to catch hold of the data pad and hold it at a readable distance. Catra, apparently put off by their audience, slunk away without a word. He paid her no mind, instead focusing on the plans before him. Bow, behind Entrapta, stared at him with wide eyes, and his hands twitched a little—as if he wanted to take the data pad back. Hordak could imagine that Entrapta probably hadn’t thought to ask permission before handing it off to him.

Taking pity on the archer, Hordak passed it back to him. “This looks very promising.”

The archer held the data pad close to his chest. “Yeah. My dads have been interested in getting some accurate star charts, to compare to some First Ones’ writing that looks—"

Hordak grunted as Entrapta folded over his shoulders from behind—her hands rested lightly on his shoulders and her hair wrapped itself around his waist. Thankfully, she was supporting her own weight on several ropes of hair, so she’d merely surprised him and hadn’t accidentally aggravated his aching muscles. “Ooh! The First Ones were Starfarers! They must have star charts! Maps!”

“Exactly,” Bow said, smiling at her. “My dads think that having modern star charts to compare them to might reveal more about their culture and history.”

Hordak nodded, but his brow-ridges furrowed. “Hmm. They are likely correct, but you’ll need a star chart from their time period, not ours. The universe is constantly expanding; the stars will have changed since their time, if only subtly.”

Bow’s face fell. “Oh.”

Tilting his head to meet Entrapta’s gaze, Hordak said, “We could create a computer program to model that, I believe.”

Her eyes widened, and her grip on him briefly tightened before she used her hair to launch herself overtop him. An excited squeal escaped her, and her eyes nearly sparkled as she began rapidly talking about such a program’s requirements, the data they’d need to collect to create it, and the data they could extrapolate from it. Hordak smiled fondly, watching her hands flutter as she paced. He blinked when a petal landed on his cheek, realizing her acrobatics had knocked his flower crown askew. He adjusted it and brushed the petal away.

The archer smiled as well, looking pleased. When Entrapta began to wind down, Hordak met his eye. “Would your...fathers find that helpful?” He was familiar enough with the idea of family units—while children in the Etherian Horde were raised communally, most had a primary caregiver or two that sponsored their ascent through the ranks—but he was uncertain how such units operated in civilian life.

“Yeah, I think they would.”

He gave a brief nod. “I will assist you as time permits.”

Entrapta gave another little squeal. “Great! Let me go get my data pad.”

Hordak would have been happy to follow her back to the yurt, but Bow smiled and raised a hand. “And leave in the middle of your party?”

“Oh, right.” Entrapta rubbed the back of her neck, still grinning. “That would be rude, wouldn’t it?”

Hordak shook his head, looking down at her. “You locked me out of my data pad, yet you’re so eager to return to yours.”

“Locked....?” Bow looked between them.

Entrapta’s eyes went wide. “Oh, right! I was supposed to talk to you about that! There will be no working this week. You are officially taking a break.” She smiled broadly, looking pleased with herself.

He huffed, a small smile tucked into the corner of his mouth. “Starlight, though your concern is...endearing, I told you—it is not necessary.”

“Everyone needs time off sometimes! Even you!”

He sighed, ears pulling back. “We have discussed this. I do not require time off to maintain productivity.”

She continued as if she hadn’t heard him. “I know you haven’t taken any time off since you returned to Etheria, and I know you didn’t while we were working on the portal. So that’s several years at least. Actually—have you ever taken time to yourself?” she asked. Then held up a finger very pointedly. “And I don’t mean time off because you were sick or hurt. When was the last time you spent a few days away from whatever you were working on and just did something for the fun of it?”

He frowned. “I....” He huffed, not sure how to make her understand. “That is not....” He folded his hands behind his back, even as his ears pulled down. “Prime would have disapproved of such frivolity. Even while separated from him, I still served him. Any...undue delays would not have been acceptable.” He, carefully, did not think of Prime’s eyes boring into his. He silenced the echo of an accusation—(There was even a time you wished I would not come for you)—and dug his claws into his palms, using the pain to focus on the present. “I would not have been able to justify it.”

Bow blinked. “Wait. Does that mean you’ve never...?”

He sighed, looking skyward. “No. But I do not need it, and even if I did, it still would not be appropriate. I am...pleased to be ‘kidnapped’.” He offered Entrapta a small nod before growing serious once more. “But that does not mean I can cease my work. Not entirely.” Surely, Entrapta would want to spend time with her friends on her own, without him. When she didn’t want him close at hand, then he would occupy himself with work.

Entrapta sighed, blowing an errant strand of hair out of her face. Her mouth rucked to the side as she considered the best way to approach the subject. Finally, hands together, she extended her index fingers and leveled them at him. “Hordak...Prime treated you and your brothers as if you were only valuable so long as you were useful. Do I understand that correctly?”

He instinctively shifted position, standing taller and straighter to better conceal the subtle pain that strained his shoulders. “Yes.”

The archer’s eyes widened, but Entrapta just nodded. “Is it possible that you’re insisting you don’t need a break because, by his standards, you would no longer be useful if you took one?”

“No!” he snapped, ears folding back. “Don’t be absurd.”

“Are you sure?”

He huffed, crossing his arms as he looked away. By Prime’s standards, he was already useless, but he wasn’t going to mention that in the archer’s presence. “I know that Prime was...” He swallowed. Why was this so difficult to admit? “Wrong. To...treat us as he did. I know that. However.” He folded his hands behind his back once again. “I, personally, caused more damage to this world than any of my brothers did individually. How can I work more diligently for Prime—knowing, now, that he did not deserve my devotion—than for a cause that is truly just? It would not be right to be less dedicated to reconstruction than I once was to reuniting with Prime.”

The archer made a strange sound, almost as if he were choking. “Whoa. Okay. Wait. Wait. That’s—you can’t—“ Bow exhaled hard, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’re not Prime. We don’t....” Hordak regarded him blankly, and Bow sighed, hands pressed together. He looked to Entrapta. “I don’t know how to explain this.”

A strand of hair patted his arm comfortingly. “It’s okay. Let me try.” She caught Hordak’s hands and said, “We agree that Prime placed unreasonable expectations on you and your brothers, right?”

He considered that, then offered a nod. “Yes.”

“Okay, great! Do you believe the peace treaty makes reasonable demands?”

“Yes. I would not have agreed to it if it were unreasonable.”

“Excellent! And the people of Etheria are, on the whole, rational, reasonable people?”

He huffed. “Not entirely rational, no, but most are reasonable, yes.”

“So, if Horde Prime demanded an unreasonable amount of devotion and dedication, but the treaty and its signatories are inherently reasonable—"

He cocked his head. “Then...it is unreasonable to hold myself to the same standards I did while under Prime’s command?”

She smiled, pumping his hands and rocking onto her toes. “You got it!”

Ears folded back, he shook his head. “That cannot be right.”

“Hordak, Prime didn’t treat you like a person. But you are! You’re allowed to take time for yourself and to do things for no reason except because you enjoy them!”

He swallowed, not able to meet her gaze—instead, he focused on a point somewhere past her left ear. “I enjoy my work,” he protested. It sounded weak even to his ears.

“But you’re more than just that. You’re allowed to have interests and hobbies outside your work.”

One ear twitched. “What is a ‘hobby’?”

The archer pressed his hands to his mouth and inhaled slowly. “Okay. This explains a few things. And we are definitely going to help you find some hobbies.”

This was becoming too much. Hordak shook his head. “I do not need a ‘hobby’, let alone multiple.”

“Hobbies aren’t something you need,” Bow said. “They’re for fun. That’s the point.”

Hordak huffed, crossing his arms. “I do not require ‘fun’—"

“Now you’re just being stubborn,” Entrapta said, earning a glare. She was right, of course, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it.

He growled softly. “Fine! I remain skeptical of your so called ‘hobbies’, but I will not attempt to work while we are at the festival.”

“You promise?”

He sighed. “Yes, Starlight. I promise. Now, I believe your friends are trying to get your attention.”

“They are?” She turned; the She-Ra and the young queen waved at her, motioning toward the tray of cupcakes. “Oh! Hi!” She waved back, and Mermista groaned aloud.

“You have to take a cupcake, Geek Princess.”

“Huh? Why?” Confused, Entrapta started wandering back over to them.

“It’s rude to pass out cake without the guest of honor,” Glimmer said. “You get the first piece. Or cupcake, I guess.”

“Ooh! Right. Forgot about that!” She caught Hordak’s hand in a rope of hair and pulled him along. He didn’t fight her, but he braced himself as they drew nearer, unsure how to navigate such an unusual social setting. Mermista groaned, but the archer remained at his elbow, smiling encouragingly. Scorpia and Sea Hawk soon joined him as well. Though he would not have admitted it—particularly not to Sea Hawk—it was nice to have allies close at hand.

Scorpia leaned close, though she was careful not to touch him. “Look,” she said, pointing to her own flower crown. “We match!”

He eyed the vivid red flowers, unsure how to respond. Finally, he said, “They suit you.” She beamed at him.

Sea Hawk sighed dramatically. “I wish I too had a clever, beautiful, fierce—" He pitched his voice to carry and cast a long look at Mermista. “—stunning, and generous woman to give me a flower crown.” Mermista sighed loudly.

Hordak cocked his head. “I imagine if you ask—"

“Shhh!” Sea Hawk shushed him. “It doesn’t count if I ask!”

Hordak eyed Scorpia, who shrugged. He huffed in response. “That is absurd.”

“It isn’t romantic if you have to ask,” Sea Hawk insisted.

Again, Scorpia offered a magnanimous shrug. “He’s not wrong,” she said.

Hordak shook his head, scowling. “Entrapta?”

She’d been oohing over the cupcakes and hadn’t heard their conversation. “Yes?”

“Is it less ‘romantic’ to ask for the things you want?”

“Ooh!” She grabbed two small cupcakes and brought them over, holding one out to him. “I don’t know—I guess it depends on what you consider romantic.”

He shifted uncomfortably, realizing that everyone had gathered in a loose circle with Entrapta at the center, their attention on her and Hordak. He tried to hide his discomfort, knowing full well he’d brought it on himself. “Explain,” he said stiffly.

Off to the side, Mermista snorted, and his ears drew back, the tips hot. “Well...” Entrapta dragged the word out, as was her habit. “I think it just depends on the person. Personally—" She drew herself up on her hair so she was nearly at eye level. “—I like it when people tell me what they want and how they’re feeling. I’ve never been good at figuring out what people want from me unless they tell me directly.”

He frowned. “I do not understand. How else are you to know?”

She shrugged. “No one else seems to have trouble understanding. Just me.” Her hair drooped and her eyes lowered as she said it.

He huffed. “This is not a Hivemind. You must use your words to communicate. Expecting anything else is ludicrous.”

She glanced at him, smiling as she held her hand out. “So you don’t think it’s unromantic? To have to ask if it’s okay to kiss someone?”

“I would consider it rude to do so without permission,” he said as he took her hand in his. She grinned at him and settled into a spot at his side.

Scorpia was giving them a strange look—eyes big and smile wide—even as she used one claw to restrain Sea Hawk and the other to keep him from speaking. Adora smiled gently, though Catra had wandered away from the group, turning her back on them. Glimmer and Perfuma looked alarmed and slightly uncomfortable, whereas Mermista refused to look at them at all. Bow’s expression mirrored Scorpia’s almost perfectly.

Their attention set him on edge, and he was tempted to withdraw from the group once more, but Entrapta’s gaze caught and held him. Her hand felt good in his, the material of her glove warm and smooth. His shoulders eased, and he remained at her side, despite the little twinge of unease. They were her friends; they would have to adjust to his presence and he to theirs.

Entrapta began licking the frosting from her cupcake, and she nudged him. “Are you going to eat that?”

“I.” He looked down at it, ears folding back. “Will try it later.” Eating while everyone was watching him seemed a step too far. Even if that meant he was left to awkwardly hold a tiny cupcake for the remainder of the ‘party’.

#intimacy log #entrapdak #hordak #entrapta #bow #sea hawk #scorpia #mermista #perfuma #catra #adora #my work

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crypticpaw · 3 years

Text

She-Ra post S5 headcannons:

Because I do what I want! (More after the cut!)

The day Horde Prime is defeated, they make it a holiday. “Freedom Day”, they called it. And it has a big, fancy party, food, fireworks, all the good stuff.

Adora tries to spend all the time she can with Catra and has a different excuse everytime someone asks why she hasn’t transformed into She-Ra in a week. And hey, Catra is NOt complaining.

Bow asks Micah for permission to date Glimmer and Micah is all like, “Are you kidding? I’ve seen you two! Go for it! Absolutely! I’m proud to call you my son in law!”.

Melog and Swift Wind are super friends and go on little adventures by themselves.

Perfuma does arts and crafts with Scopia because she knows she loves it, and Scorpia is not really that good at meditation.

Entrapta and Hordak are GLUED to each other 24/7. Entrapta is either hanging on his shoulders like a koala or sitting on his lap. Hordak growls at any princess who contradicts her.

Hordak DID NOT like Wrong Hordak at first, but got super protective of him after he found some Bright Moon soldiers calling him names.

Mermista is fucking LIVID and demands Catra and Hordak are put on trial. They end up having to go to Salineas to help rebuild it, wich makes both Adora and Entrapta angry and sad because they just got them back and wanted to spend more time together. Scorpia goes too, leaving Perfuma on the same situation.

They still all zoom call each other every night, though, so it’s not that bad.

Sea Hawk tries to talk to Mermista because she’s been so angry and stressed with all the rebuilding. She talks it out with him and is less harsh with Catra and Hordak, and tries to focus more on spending quality time with Sea Hawk.

Sea Hawk tries to bond with Hordak, in which he fails at first. But with Scorpia’s help, he figures out that asking about his projects and Entrapta gets him to talk a little. He gives Hordak dating advice, in which Hordak ignores completely, but he feels less lonely.

While Hordak is away, Entrapta tries to work with the clones and Wrong Hordak in introducing them to Etherian culture and help them go through their trauma of Prime and everything, to feel less lonely.

She pays Double Trouble to help not only re-decorate Prime’s old mother ship, but also help the clones express themselves through their appearances. Wrong Hordak IMMEDIATELY imprints on Double Trouble and tries every new clothing they offer him.

Frosta is kind of lost in the middle of all of this, so she starts following Micah, Netossa and Spinnerella around. Micah plays with her and tells her old stories often, Netossa is more than glad to battle train with her and Spinnerella gives her sweets anytime she asks.

After Salineas is rebuilt, Adora, Catra, Perfuma, Scorpia, Entrapta, Hordak, Mermista and Sea Hawk all go out together on a big group date and they have a great.

Huntara goes back to Bright Moon one day to ask for help because some clones had “taken over” the Crimson Waste and are keeping food to themselves. Catra and Scorpia are MORE THAN HAPPY to go, putting on their old jackets and absolutely breaking the shit out of everything with a smile on their faces. Adora and Perfuma are scared.

Entrapta eventually finds the clones and drags them back to the mother ship after much scolding.

While there, Hordak finds Imp, who leads him back to Lonnie, Kyle and Rogelio, and he thanks them for taking care of Imp. He invites them, Adora, Scorpia and Catra out for ice cream to try to make up for everything they went through, and they LOVED IT.

Adora and Catra start going to Hordak for advice and battle tips after that and start calling him “dad” as a joke, but he accepts it so quickly that Entrapta gives them official adoption papers. Hordak is now their dad.

Imp is confused at first as to why there’s a hundred Hordaks now, but after noticing he gets pets and treats, he just launches himself into the crowd.

Glimmer starts a program to try and get some ex-Horde soldiers out of the Crimson Waste and give them better job opportunities in Bright Moon. Same thing for the clones.

All is peaceful and well in Etheria...

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birindale · 2 years

Photo

Visual development by Soyun Park, clean-up by Mike Collins

#visual development #soyun park #mike collins #backgrounds #bright moon #castle bright moon #castle bright moon throne room #etherian crafts #ice sculptures #etherian flora #plumerias #i know this isn't what plumerias look like okay but i tagged the earlier ones plumerias so deal with it #and don't ask me why #insignias #bright moon insignias #unsolicited commentary

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kuurankaiho · 4 years

Text

Hordak can read.

An engineer’s three cents on why Hordak can read:

1. He works with very complex quantum mechanics/time-space warping physics. He has equations and algorithms on his screens that Entrapta recognizes. He must be utilizing a mathematical language that is commonly used on Etheria, not only in the Horde’s hive mind. It’s possible that the Etherian mathematical notation is a relic from the time before the planet was plunged into Despondos and has has not been altered since (which I doubt), and somehow it was incorporated into the hive mind. Or, Hordak taught himself/was taught the notation on Etheria.

2. As a specialist on robotics, space- and cybernetic technology, he needs to understand both low-level and high-level programming languages, plus databases and interface crafting. It’s possible the hive mind/Etheria has a single language that both addresses logical operations on a chip level and high-level algorithms in all the areas mentioned (at the moment on our mundane Earth you’ll need a large pile of technologies to do such impressive full-stack development). But you need to be able to read and write it.

3. How did he develop his nerve/muscle-enhancing armor that works as a life support? He has ports to access biological functions, but how did he know how to program his armor without the skill to enhance operations possibly on a cellular level? That armor seems like something outside the scope of the hive mind, and he may have added ports on himself besides.

4. Notes and documentation. You don’t program without a proper documentation, unless you know exactly how to read your own code. Which requires reading abilities.

5. He could of course have a voice-operated programming/compiling platform, but did it already exist on his broken ship? If not, did he program one himself? Aaand we’re back to the original argument.

6. Perhaps he just couldn’t read the First One’s language. Which doesn’t make sense, as Entrapta would most likely have conveyed her knowledge of it to him. She cannot read it perfectly, but there’s an episode where she decodes portions of Mara’s signal. It’s also interesting that when he hears of Entrapta’s “betrayal”, his hand flies to the LUVD crystal. If he had no clue as to what was written on it, why was this particular piece of his armor so important? He could have fumbled at any portion of it. So why was this particular detail so dear to him, not to mention that after having been twice mind-wiped, seeing it instantly retrieved memories of Entrapta?

7. Grrrr. Think about it logically.

#spop #hordak #she ra and the princesses of power #entrapta #first ones language

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freedfromthegalactichivemind · 9 months

Text

Club Galactic

So, coming across someone’s art of a hungover Hordak made me think of an old fic of mine for one of the Entrapdak Months. It’s not like he’s a victim of the booze in it (she is), but he and Entrapta do, for the prompt of “Going Out” visit a nightclub for Horde-clones. I felt like posting it. I don’t think I’ve posted it on this particular blog. It’s short and can be found as part of a collection on A03 - Every Overlord Needs a Mad Scientist Club Galactic Hordak was trying to figure out the sequence of events that had brought him to this place. His ears were straight against his skull, an expression of displeasure. No amount of flattening could deafen the blaring music. The lights at the edges of his vision bothered him. A tendril of purple hair wrapped itself around one wrist. “Come on, let’s dance!” “And make a fool of myself?” “Just one dance, please?” Entrapta begged. “To tell the truth, I’m not much for it all either, but participation is vital to the social experiment!” “Very well.” “It’ll also be an excellent opportunity to see how your new armor holds up!” Hordak had been essentially forbidden from wearing battle-armor that enhanced his strength to particularly inhuman levels after the end of the war, but Entrapta had been crafting for him a series of form-fitting armors that served as mobility-aids. They went well with – and appeared to be to the untrained eye to be - ordinary clothing, if a bit on the designer-side. The power crystals were embedded into joints that deft feline-claws could not get into and so the large crystal etched with the word “LUVD” hung around the former warlord’s neck on a golden chain. Hordak’s slinky dress was long enough to almost brush the floor. Entrapta, for her part, was dressed in a smart little tuxedo with a tiny top-hat perched upon the top of one ponytail. They both looked the part for this club. The aesthetic of the place was something that Etherians had labeled “Gothic” and the garb people wore here was quite expressive. Most of the crowd was made up of spacebats. “One dance,” Hordak grumbled. “Then your promise to Kadroh will be fulfilled and we can leave.” Entrapta giggled. “A dance, some drinks and some tiny food!” “Alright, then.” Hordak looked around. He almost ran into a deer-man with a large rack of antlers that had been painted black. The deer was shuffling with a spacebat-partner. Now that he took the time to notice, Hordak saw that Entrapta was the only human here. Every other club-goer was one of his kind or a member of Etheria’s beast-folk. Entrapta started to dance, but seemed like she was unsure how. She looked out at others in the crowd and began to imitate them – awkwardly. Hordak followed suit, timing a shuffling of his elbows and his feet to the beats he heard in the music. “This place… is popular…” he stated. “It seems that Kadroh is doing well for himself.” The clone formerly known as “Wrong Hordak” had been trying many things in terms of finding his identity and things to do after the war. He was very much unlike Hordak in that he was a rather gregarious sort. As an extension of this and of the cooking hobby he’d discovered, he’d started a nightclub. He’d found an old industrial-building that was still standing in a town that had been bombed out during the war and had turned it into a party-hub for Horde-clones and Etherians alike. The club catered especially to the spacebats because others struggled to understand their preferences. For instance, this was one of the few establishments where they could get a soured-milk drink, discovered recently by accident and refined through culinary-experimentation. It had proven to be a bit of an intoxicant for them. It did nothing for Etherians. It was also a place where they could get some fairly strong whisky – something that Hordak often had for breakfast. His kind metabolized alcohol slightly differently than humans did. For him, it was like Entrapta and her coffee. His own single encounter with coffee was something he did not want to think about. “You’re moving great!” Entrapta encouraged. “How does it feel?” Hordak moved with the music and he actually was starting to enjoy himself. His joints felt fluid. For emphasis, he spun and dipped. “Ooh!” Entrapta squealed, clapping her hair-tails, “I’ve never seen you bend down so far!” She paused and took a pair of champagne-flutes off the tray of a passing server. She passed one to Hordak and they shuffled off into a corner to sip their drinks and watch the crowd. “Alright, more than one dance,” Hordak said, grinning. “Thanks to your armor, I found that quite invigorating.” “Great!” His ears flattened again at a discordant note played over the speaker system. “Although I do find the music to be a bit too loud for my liking.” “Music?” Entrapta asked, “What music?” Hordak whipped around, eyes wide. “What? Are you well, Entrapta?” “Perfectly. I just don’t hear any music! I was just trying to keep up with the others with the dancing, but… it is not customary for people to dance without music. How does Kadroh get people to do it? Fascinating…” “Of course there is music,” Hordak intoned. “You…you don’t hear it?” “Nope!” Hordak listened carefully. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the trills and screeches and upon what he could catch of Galactic Hordish lyrics. It dawned on him. Of course! “You shall have to work on inventing a hearing-aid-device for yourself to come to this club,” he told her with a smile. “It would seem that the music here is strictly in my language. The frequencies are beyond your range. That could explain why the only other Etherians here are certain kinds of beast-folk. Every species has its own limits in perception.” Entrapta quivered in joy, her eyes sparkling in the spinning club-lights. “Amazing!” She grabbed Hordak by the waist with her hair again and dragged him back to the dance floor. “We’ll have to stay here all night! So much data to collect! So much study to be done! I’m the ultimate unbiased outside-observer! Eeeee!” More dances were shared, more observations done and more drinks were downed. After that, another limit to Entrapta was discovered, that, unfortunately, of her ability to metabolize alcohol. Hordak carried her to their skiff. The next morning was spent with the two of them in one of the bathrooms of Dryl, Hordak holding back her beautiful purple hair as she unloaded the remains of everything she’d eaten the night before into a commode. He rubbed her back and whispered sweet nothings to her, having not changed out of his armor, experiencing a rare role-reversal in who took care of whom. They didn’t have any plans to go to Club Galactic again.

#spop #she-ra #entrapdak #entrapta #hordak #wrong hordak #horde clones #spacebats #old entrapdak month stories #2020 spop stories

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itsladykit · 4 years

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Entrapdak Drabbles, “Coffee”

AO3 LINK

Summary: While Hordak and the Princess Alliance argue over the terms of their peace treaty, Kadroh is having troubles of his own, unbeknownst to the others.

Content warning: hurt/comfort, light angst, political drama, references to past mind control, references to systemic racism.

A/N: I have trouble with black and white thinking, so I’m playing with the canon a bit and introducing some shades of grey.

“Hello, brother! Good morning!”

Hordak looked up as Kadroh approached, crossing his arms as he waited for the machine behind him to finish its work. “I believe a single greeting is customary, though I would argue that it’s unnecessary as we saw each other less than a day prior.”

“He’s being polite,” Adora said, smiling at Kadroh as she filled her mug from the carafe of coffee the staff had provided. “Good morning, Wro—Um. Kadroh. Did you sleep well?”

Kadroh inhaled and held his breath. They waited. Hordak sighed as the machine behind him started to steam. “Are you well?”

He gave a short, sharp nod. “Yes! I just don’t know how to answer Miss Adora’s question.”

Hordak’s ears folded back. “I believe such questions are generally intended to be polite but unsubstantive.”

“What?”

Hordak turned, watching the machine deposit a small amount of black liquid into the tiny cup. “It’s a meaningless question and you aren’t obligated to give a meaningful answer.”

“Oh. Is there a purpose to that sort of question?”

“Not as far as I can tell.”

Adora rubbed her forehead. “Maybe Hordak isn’t the best person to help you understand Etherian culture.”

“Oh? Was anything I said inaccurate?” He spooned sugar into the tiny cup, stirring with an equally tiny spoon.

“Well—no, but....” She groaned. “You’re missing the point entirely.”

“And what is the point?”

She threw her hands up. “I don’t know! It’s a conversation starter!”

“I see. It appears to have done its job; we seem to be having a conversation.”

Adora ran a hand down her face, groaning. Hordak ignored her and eyed the little cup in his hands, wondering if he’d added enough sugar. Deciding that Entrapta could always add more if needed—but she certainly couldn’t precipitate out any excess—he started to leave, but Kadroh stopped him.

“Brother, what is that?”

“Hmm? Oh. Expresso. Entrapta is not fond of coffee, but she enjoys the caffeine. The plentiful sugar makes up for the lack of bubbles, I believe.” Adora looked at him like he’d just done something both outrageous and somewhat threatening, which he decided to ignore. He certainly wasn’t doing anything wrong, and he had no idea why she was looking at him like that.

“Caffeine?” Kadroh asked.

“A mild stimulant. Many Etherians use it to help them wake up in the morning.”

“It keeps them awake?” Hordak nodded. “Is it poisonous for us?”

“No, but—“ Kadroh took the small cup from his hands and downed its contents in one go. Hordak’s ears folded back, and Adora gaped at him as he smiled and returned the cup to Hordak’s hands. With a huff, Hordak finished by saying, “But as I am not fond of coffee, I haven’t done extensive testing.” Glaring, he started the machine again. “This one is for Entrapta—“ He added a soft growl for emphasis, “—and you will accompany me as I deliver it. If you have a bad reaction, I want to be close by.”

“Thank you, brother! I appreciate your concern.”

He huffed. “At the moment, I’m primarily interested in recording possible side effects, but perhaps I will be in a more generous mood if you begin convulsing.”

He prepared the next small cup for Entrapta, shielding it protectively as Kadroh followed him down the hall and back to Entrapta’s room. He showed some signs of jitteriness and some mild anxiety, but otherwise seemed fine.

(Hordak would not admit to himself or anyone that he was grateful for that.)

The next few days were interesting. And frustrating. All of them were tired of fighting, but crafting a workable peace treaty was proving somewhat challenging, though Catra was proving herself a valuable ally once again. When he’d first regained himself, it had been tempting to keep hold of his anger with her, but Entrapta had forgiven her so easily, and he well knew what she had experienced onboard Prime’s ship. In the end, they both simply let go of their grievances without a word, understanding passing between them with nothing more than a subtle nod.

Though it was probably awkward for Catra to sit on his side of the bargaining table, while her love stood between to act as arbitrator. She was hardly a neutral party, but she was more sympathetic to the Horde than the others sitting on Bright Moon’s side of the table.

“I am happy to guarantee the peaceful return of Scorpia’s birthright to her—“ Never mind that he still didn’t fully understand the concept of a ‘birthright’. “—when I have it in writing that my brethren will not be held responsible for their actions while under Prime’s control. And the Etherian Horde will not be discriminated against for their actions in wartime.”

“Of course they won’t! What kind of people do you think we are?”

“There is a reason my armies were composed primarily of Reptilians and other races that are not ‘cute’ in the eyes of most Etherians.”

“What are you implying?”

“I’m implying that the Scorpion kingdom was keen for an alliance because they and their people have not always been treated fairly!”

He stood with his hands splayed on the table before him, red eyes narrowed. Glimmer stood across from him, just as angry as he. “That’s not true!”

“Learn your history, little queen. Study more than your own propaganda.”

“Propaganda?! You’re one to talk about—!”

“Okay! Okay!” The She-Ra held out an arm. “Why don’t we all just...settle down and take a break for lunch? Everyone will be in a better mood after eating, right?”

Glimmer and Hordak slowly backed down, but both continued to glare. “Fine,” the queen said, “I hope our guests enjoy Bright Moon’s hospitality.”

He huffed, but Catra yawned, smacking him on the shoulder as she did. He glared, but she just said, “Sounds good to us. Right, ‘boss’?”

He didn’t enjoy the way she said that. Nonetheless, he respected her instincts in this regard. “Fine. We will continue this later.”

“Fine,” the queen said.

He bit his tongue. She could have the last word if it made her feel better. He just offered a subtle nod, then walked out of the war room, which Bow now insisted they refer to as the ‘Peace Room’. Kadroh was sitting against the wall opposite the door, cradling a mug of coffee between his hands. Hordak didn’t understand the appeal; it was foul, bitter stuff, but if anything, that went a long way to prove that taste was a matter of environment, not genetics.

“Hello, brother!”

Hordak’s ears twitched, but he only grunted in acknowledgment. He didn’t have the patience for him at the moment, intent on seeking out Entrapta instead. She’d declined her place at the bargaining table, saying she was busy studying the tech they’d scavenged from Prime’s towers.

As he walked away, he heard Bow say, “Hey, Kadroh. You look a little...worn down. Have you slept?”

“Oh, yes. Many times!” Kadroh, as ever, sounded excited to be asked.

Hordak shook his head with a soft huff as he turned the corner, out of earshot of their conversation. He knocked on Entrapta’s door. He waited for an invitation to enter, but none was forthcoming. “Entrapta?”

A crash from inside the room caused him to eye the door with alarm, until she threw it open with her hair and pulled him inside. His features softened and he smiled at her as she busily worked on a piece of tech. “That was fast. Did you guys work out a treaty already?”

He stood behind her, admiring her work. “Hardly. It’s been five hours, and we’ve made no progress. We’re breaking for lunch. I came to see if you wanted food.”

“Five hours—?! Oh, wow, I didn’t even notice. I’ll have lunch with you. Just give me one more minute.” She drew out the last sentence, and he smiled, putting his hands behind his back to resist running his fingers through the tendrils of hair tugging at his arms.

“You’re busy. I’ll bring you a plate.”

“Are you sure?

“Your work is important. I wouldn’t want to interrupt you.”

“It’s not...important,” she muttered, “I mean. All scientific discovery is important, but I’m not working on anything in particular. Just...figuring out this cute little chip’s secrets!” She held it up for him to examine. “Isn’t it adorable?”

He leaned close, studying it critically. “I have no means of judging that, so I’ll trust your expertise.”

She looked at him. “Do they have tiny food?”

“They do.”

“And you’ll really bring me some?”

“I will.”

Her smile was radiant, and something in him softened. “Thank you.” He nodded, gently squeezing the rope of hair that took his hand. He turned to leave, already more relaxed and at ease than he’d been when he entered. “Oh, Hordak?” He paused. “Will you bring Kadroh in too? I think it’s been a while since I’ve checked on him, and I want to make sure he’s doing okay.”

If Hordak’s ears drooped, he could at least be consoled that Entrapta didn’t notice. “I’ll bring you whatever you ask for.”

“Kadroh and a plate of tiny foods should be sufficient!” She paused. “Oh, and maybe a fizzy drink?”

“Of course.”

He left, hearts heavier than they had been. He entered the hall where the staff had laid out food for the gathered dignitaries, though none he saw were especially dignified. He withheld a sigh and sought out his brother.

Of course he was at the head table with the queen and her retinue. He allowed himself a soft growl, then made his way toward them. He ignored the way their talk ceased at his approach. Except Kadroh, who waved at him. “Hello, brother!”

He withheld a sigh and offered a nod, trying to be patient for Entrapta’s sake. “I came to see if you would join Entrapta and me for lunch.”

“Why doesn’t Geek Princess come out here and join us?” the Salineas Princess asked, watching him with hostile eyes. “I thought she was part of the Alliance. Or did she switch sides? Again.”

The man at her side laughed nervously, leaning close to say something in her ear, while everyone else stilled. Catra shut her eyes, covering her face with one hand. Hordak clasped his hands behind his back, claws digging into his wrists. “Perhaps she would join you more readily if you didn’t call her degrading names.”

The princess sat upright, as if she’d been slapped. “Hey! That’s not—it’s just a nickname!”

“And this is just a luncheon. If you consider her absence a slight, then I suggest you speak to her about it rather than trading words with me.” He looked down at Kadroh, intent on leaving, only to find he’d nodded off. His ears twitched, and he glanced at the others for an explanation, but they were obviously as confused as he was.

Bow leaned forward in his seat, reaching for Kadroh. “Hey, buddy, you doing—“

Hordak caught his hand. “That’s an excellent way to get bitten.” He blanched, pulling his hand back hurriedly. “Kadroh?” His ear twitched, but he showed no signs of waking. Hordak straightened, his arms crossed. “Has he been ill? Behaving oddly?”

Bow and Adora shared a look. “Well...”

“He’s, uh, been a little...off?”

“But he’s always like that,” Catra added.

Hordak huffed, annoyed. “Brother, wake up.”

Nothing. Bracing himself—and closing his hand into a fist so he didn’t risk losing a finger—he jostled Kadroh’s shoulder, rousing him.

Thankfully, Kadroh did not try biting him. He just gasped, sitting upright. “I’m sorry!”

Hordak’s ears folded back as he crossed his arms. “For what?”

“I—“ Kadroh looked at the others and at Hordak, then he lowered his gaze and shrugged. “It’s rude, isn’t it? To fall asleep in public.” His ears were drooping and when he reached for the coffee mug, his hands were shaking.

Hordak pushed the mug out of reach, starting to piece a few things together.

“I wouldn’t know. Brother, how long has it been since you last slept?”

“Just barely a minute now.”

Hordak sighed. “True sleep, Kadroh. Extended sleep. For at least a few hours.”

“Oh.” He shrugged nervously. “I think...three days?”

Catra swore and Bow leaned forward. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

His claws plucked at the tablecloth and his ears drooped. “What’s it called when dreams are...bad?”

“Nightmares?” Bow said.

“Oh! Oh, that’s a good name! I like that—well, I don’t like them, but that is a very fitting name.”

“You’re having nightmares bad enough that you have been deliberately dosing yourself with caffeine in order to avoid them?” Hordak asked, ears folded back. K adroh shrugged, ears lowered and features faintly flushed. Hordak sighed. “About what?”

Kadroh traced patterns on the tabletop with a claw. “I keep seeing them. The people I’ve killed. The ones I chipped so they would serve....” He shivered. “Brother.” He looked up at him. “How do you deal with it? With what...what he used us for? With what you’ve done?”

Hordak was very conscious of the Etherians’ eyes on him. “Come with me.” He turned, expecting Kadroh to follow.

Behind him, he heard someone say, softly, “You don’t have to go. You can talk to us about it.”

Kadroh hesitated. “Thank you, friends, but...I think you would not understand.”

“Hey, we were chipped,” the Salineas Princess said. “We get it.”

Hordak stopped. An acidic retort came to him, but Kadroh stood and, head bowed, replied, “With respect, I don’t believe you do. Being chipped is not the same as....as....” He floundered looking lost.

Hordak finished the thought for him. “It is not the same as being created for the sole purpose of serving Prime, or being conditioned from the time you draw your first breath to believe that your only value is in how well you serve him. There is also the matter of time. How long did you serve, brother?”

The Etherians watched him and their eyes went wide when he said, “I don’t know. I think a long time. My memories are fuzzy, but I believe I have conquered many worlds in his name.” He shivered again, hugging himself.

“Come,” Hordak said again. “Entrapta expects us.”

Meekly, Kadroh followed as Hordak collected food and a fizzy drink for Entrapta. For them, he grabbed a pitcher of water and pushed it into Kadroh’s hands, saying, “You are likely dehydrated. You will drink water.”

Kadroh nodded solemnly, hugging the pitcher to his chest. He trailed behind Hordak as they left the hall and obediently knocked on Entrapta’s door when they arrived, since Hordak’s hands were full.

“Come in!” They entered, and she greeted them without turning. “Thanks for bringing food! I didn’t even realize how hungry I was until you mentioned it. Just give...me...one...second....” She drew the words out, as if buying herself more time before she had to turn. Unable to help it, Hordak smiled softly, setting the plate of food within her reach. She looked up briefly. “Ooh, blinis!”

“I will get more if you need more,” he assured her, then he eyed Kadroh. “I brought Kadroh—“

“Oh, right!” She looked at the chip. “I’m almost...done....”

“He has been having nightmares.”

She set the chip down and jumped off the seat she’d made of her hair. “Karoh?” She stopped in front of him, using her hair to raise herself to his height. “Are you okay?”

He looked at Hordak. “Is this another polite question?”

“No. Entrapta does not ask meaningless questions. She expects an honest answer.”

“Oh.”

They waited. When it became clear Kadroh didn’t want to answer, Hordak sighed and said, “He’s been drinking coffee to keep from sleeping because of the severity of his nightmares.”

“Oh, Kadroh....” She hesitated, then took his hand, guiding him over to her bed, where they both sat down. “You can come talk to me or Hordak if you need help.”

“I didn’t think there was anything you could do. They’re just...bad dreams. How do you fix that?” He curled up as he said it, drawing his knees toward his chest.

Hordak grunted. “Not by abusing caffeine—“ Entrapta turned and gave him a look. Hordak winced. “I mean that delaying or disrupting your sleep patterns will make it worse, not better.”

“Worse?!”

Entrapta’s hair wrapped around his shoulders. A stray rope grabbed Hordak’s hand and tugged him toward the bed. He fought it briefly, but his hearts weren’t in it. He allowed himself to be pulled over and pushed onto the bed, on Kadroh’s other side. He sat stiff and still beside him, his arms crossed.

“We’ll figure out a way to help. Right, Hordak?”

He glanced at her, then sighed heavily. “Nightmares are common among the soldiers, particularly when they’ve returned from combat in the frontlines. There are medications that help, though I’m not sure if they’re compatible with our biology. I am also given to understand that there are certain kinds of therapy that can help. I will look into the matter—“

Kadroh was hugging him. Hordak sighed, looking at Entrapta, who just smiled at him. His ears folded back, but he didn’t push Kadroh away. “Talking about it can help too,” she said. “We’re here for you. We’ll listen.”

“Thank you,” Kadroh said, his voice thick. Hordak looked down at him, eyes widening when he saw that Kadroh was crying. “I’m. I’m glad to be free. I don’t want to go back to the way things were. But being apart from the Hivemind....” His grip on Hordak tightened. “Sometimes, I just feel so alone.”

Hordak looked at Entrapta, feeling a little panicked—he had no idea what he was supposed to do now. She just ran her hand up and down Kadroh’s back. “It’s okay. You’re not alone. We’re here.” She looked at Hordak, her expression encouraging.

He cleared his throat, carefully extracting one arm from Kadroh’s hold so he could lay it over his upper back, squeezing his shoulder. “Yes. We are here. You may....” He glanced at Entrapta, who nodded. “You may talk to us about these things. We will do what we can to help, even if it is just listening.”

His ears drew down when Kadroh started snoring softly. He looked at Entrapta, still not sure what to do. “Why don’t we lay him down?” she suggested. Hordak tried to shift him onto the bed and into a more comfortable position, but even in sleep, he wouldn’t release his hold.

“He is clinging to me.”

“I know! It’s so cute!”

He growled softly. “I am not a teddy bear!” He looked down at Kadroh. “But I can stay until it’s time for the delegates to meet again.”

To his surprise, Entrapta leaned over Kadroh to kiss Hordak on the cheek. “Thank you.”

He blinked, feeling his cheeks grow hot. “For—what?”

“Being a good brother. I think he needs one.”

“I.” He looked between her and Kadroh. “I am not. I don’t know how to....” His ears folded back. “I was not designed for this, and I was never very good at even the things I was specifically designed for. How am I supposed to...?”

“You are more than what he made you for. So much more.”

He swallowed, looking away. “I.” His chest felt tight. “I am trying.”

Her smile was brilliant and, somehow, having Kadroh’s arms around him began to feel...nice.

Later, when Adora knocked on their door, they managed to maneuver Kadroh off of Hordak and onto the bed. “I’ll look after him. Good luck at your meeting.”

He nodded, privately wishing she could be at his side, but he knew that this wasn’t her strength. Besides, Kadroh would not want to be alone if he woke. In the hallway, he and Adora walked back together. She glanced at him, fidgeting nervously. “Is Kadroh okay?”

“He is sleeping. Entrapta will be there if he has any nightmares.”

“...you, um, you didn’t just drug him, right?”

His ears folded back. “He fell asleep naturally. I would not have sedated him; who knows how that would have interacted with the caffeine.”

“Sorry. It’s just...you’re not very....” He crossed his arms and looked down at her, waiting. She rubbed the back of her neck. “Never mind. You know what? Entrapta talked him through an existential crisis, I’m sure she can take care of this.”

He huffed and turned away. Neither of them spoke again until they reached the conference room. They paused in the doorway. The others were already gathered, but—

“Uh. Scorpia? I think you’re on the wrong side of the table.” She was seated a space away from Catra, claws folded neatly in front of her.

“No. No, I’ve, uh. I’ve been thinking.” Scorpia scratched the back of her neck. “I remember some of the things my moms used to say. About the times before the war, and uh...I think I’d also like to get some of the things Lord Hordak is asking for in writing.”

“Scorpia,” Glimmer said, “that’s all just Horde Propaganda.”

“Good! I mean? Then you won’t mind putting it in the treaty, right?”

Glimmer threw up her hands. “Oh for—! Fine! Fine, we’ll put it in.” She glared at Hordak. “It’s completely unnecessary, and I can’t believe you’re making such a big deal out of this. Why? What do you even gain? Are you just trying to make us doubt each other? Doubt ourselves?”

Lifting his chin, Hordak walked toward Scorpia and Catra’s side of the table, giving them each a nod of acknowledgement before sitting between them. “I am making a ‘big deal’ out of it because when I allied myself to King Scorpio, I promised him that we would bring about a society of equals.” He exhaled slowly. “I was...misguided. He, however, was very earnest in his beliefs. Very hopeful.”

Scorpia nodded. “Granddad was a good man. That’s why my mom named me after him.”

“Yes. I owe him this much, at least.”

Everyone was quiet for a few breaths, then Adora cleared her throat. “Let’s, uh. Let’s get started then. All in favor to add the requested clauses to the treaty?”

Hordak and his former force captains raised their hands. Glimmer raised hers. The others followed shortly after.

Bonus headcanon: King Scorpio totally had a thing for Hordak, but the grumpy spacebat was too focused on returning to Prime to notice.

#hordak #entrapta #entrapdak #wrong hordak #catra #scorpia #bow #adora #spop fanfic #my work #spop #scorpia's grandfather #mermista

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