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#wrong hordak
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Another sneak peek for Home Chapter 4.  Has not been edited or put through Grammarly yet.  


The cold sea spray cling to the edge of his cloak, dampening the hem, making him long for the dry mountains of Dryl. yl and Entrapta’s presence.  He had never been so far away from Entrapta since the war’s end.  She wanted to come with him, but he insisted that he handle this alone.  With Zed coming along.  She wouldn’t let him leave unless he had some help with him.  And yet, here Zed stood beside him in a deep fur cloak catching a cold and sniffling.  

Even winter was making its mark in Seaworthy and the only the most dedicated sea people went without cloaks or furs for warmth against the sea spray and light rain.  The chill reached through his cloak and sank deep into his bones.  The sooner they got out of the cold the better.

His fur lined boots cut through a puddle towards a tavern.  People parted in their path, giving them a cautious wide berth in a sign they have not yet forgotten Horde Prime’s occupation when clones were to be feared.  

It was just as well for now.  They would see about getting information in the tavern after they warmed up a bit.  As they neared the front doors, the sweet scents of cooking meat and spiced wine.  Customers were chatting and dining, some even playing a round of cards and dice.  There was a sudden hush when he entered, eyes flitted towards him; some curious and others speculative, but it was a momentary distraction and they resumed their current business of eating or gambling.  However, some eyes followed them as they strolled to a nearby table.  

Though the clones were identical, his blue hair and vivid red red eyes would be recognizable to the former soldiers of the Horde.  With his hood across his eyes, he selected a table in the far corner and Zed sat across from him, looking about the tavern with open curiosity that bordered on gawking.

“Stop staring,” Hordak whispered.  

“Oh, sorry, I just never been in a place like this.”

The same could be said for many places in Zed’s case.  And if Hordak was being honest with himself, it was true for himself as well.  

He was having second thoughts about coming here, but saw no other way to resolve this matter.  If a brother was harassing Salineas ships, then he had to be stopped before things escalated.  Most of Etheria had accepted the clones, but there were places whose tolerance was fragile.  Harassing Salineas might be what tips the scales against them.  If the Crimson Bastard came through here and stood out as the rumors implied, then surely someone had news of where he was or when he would be coming into port again. 

When he was Lord of the Fright Zone, it would have been a simple enough matter to send someone to fetch information about a target or just have them destroy the interloper while he remained safe and secluded in his Sanctum.  This new life required more acclimating than he ever would have imagined.

“Brother,” Zed whispered.  “Look.”

“Pointing makes it obvious that we are staring,” Hordak chastised, but was taken with what Zed indicated behind the bar.

It was another brother, but Hordak didn’t recognize him.  They wore a long sherwani of a bright blue color with golden brocade along the sleeves and chest.  The hair was longer past the ears and was a soft peach color with matching eyes outlined in thin black liner.  What made Hordak mistook him for a native Etherian was the elaborate tattoos of flowery vines arching up his neck and along his left cheek.  On the right side of his face was a flock of birds taking flight as if going for his peach color eye.  Even his hands were covered in tattoos.  Small stars along his fingers and meeting in a large star on the back of his right hand while the left hand had a rose in full bloom.  He was setting filled mugs on a tray for a waiting barmaid who whisked the tray away in a flurry of skirts and buzz of dragonfly wings.   

“Do we know him, brother?”

“No.  Maybe …I don’t know,” Hordak muttered.  When they were clones, extensions of Horde Prime, they had no identity nor anything to set them apart.  If one looked for it, there were nuances in the faces such as a thinner face, a broader forehead, or larger eyes, but with no names or any identifying titles, it was impossible to be sure.  It was quite possible that he had worked side by side with the tattooed brother for years.  “I’m going to speak with him.  Perhaps he knows about the one we seek.”

Zed rose as if to go with him, but Hordak waved him away.  “Stay, I can handle this myself.  This isn’t the Enclave.”

“That doesn’t mean this place is any safer,” Zed pointed out.  

Hordak suspected that Zed simply didn’t want to be left alone, even from across a tavern hall, but couldn’t really fault him.  They were in an unknown element, especially an independent area between the Horde and the Princess Alliance.  The best they could hope for was indifference, but it was possible there was hostility among those that suffered at the hands of the Horde.  

But it was comforting to see a brother who seems at home in Seaworthy.  Hordak approached the counter with Zed trailing along behind him.  It wasn’t so much as recognition as annoyance that greeted them when the colorful clone met their gaze.  

In a smooth deep voice they all shared, he spoke with a slight coastal accent picked up from the locals.  “You’ll have to wait for the barmaid unless you want to take your drink at the bar.”

“We’ll accept a drink,” Hordak said, brushing back his hood.  “But we’re looking for someone.”

The clone raised an eye ridge.  “Information isn’t cheap and I don’t like talking with a dry voice and paying customers have priority.”

Gone were the days when information was freely given to him either from a subordinate or the hive-mind.  Hordak reached into a purse at his hip and plucked a few coins and laid them on the counter.  “A round for the three of us and some answers to questions.”

The clone eyed the coins and eyes widened in recognition as they were of high value throughout the kingdoms.  Not many carried such coins unless they were connected to wealth or royalty.  There were benefits of being the significant other of a princess.  “Have a seat and make yourself comfortable while I fetch the drinks.”

“What’s your name?”  Zed asked.  He was staring in open wonder at the tattoos.           

“My partner named me Canvas,” the clone said as he collected three large mugs from beneath the bar.  As if he felt the need to explain, he added, “He’s the best tattoo artist along the coast.”

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idk why but i’ve been shipping Wrondak and the soda pop guy from Entrapta’s kitchen staff

like, when Hordak’s community service is done and they all move into the Crypto Castle and Wrondak starts helping out in the kitchens and they end up crushing on each other and neither really knows how to deal with it for a while.

(mostly unrelated but i’ve also named the kitchen staff Fiskerton (Fizzy for short), Cookie, and Bess. y’all can probably guess who is who)

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Just a quick reminder that your all time favorite space bats and tyrants are voice by the same VA Keston John.

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Every day I see a billion posts about them, but not many people are talking about him.

If you appreciate an artwork, you appreciate the artist. If you appreciate a series, you appreciate the creator. If you appreciate a song, you appreciate the singer. If you appreciate a character, you appreciate the voice actor.

I would like to see more posts about the people behind She-Ra and their amazing work.

Thank you for your attention.

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I fully headcanon that Wrong Hordak will take to swearing the same way he takes to winking.

(He definitely swears. But not well.)

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