Chapter Text
(Adora ~ 0 ~ Catra)
Adora
This was it. Haha! This was what I'd been working on for the last four years. I had sacrificed everything for. Every sleepless night and every exhausting day over the last four fucking years had been aiming at this. So many races in so many towns. So little rest on so many occasions. And then it came by pure chance.
Now I was here. Le Mans, the world capital of motorcycle sports for the next nine days. Le Mans, where the grand tour “Seven Days of Europe” would begin and end. The most prestigious and important bike race in the world. Five thousand kilometers through the heart of Europe, over the highest mountain passes, the longest tunnels, the most beautiful landscapes. And a nice trophy accompanied by an even nicer prize.
500k. A money shower.
Which would secure my team for the next few years - and to be honest, we needed that.
But today, I didn’t care at all. I was just walking around the campsite, my grin as wide as the Atlantic just as I had every right to do so.
Because I was the best racer here.
“Adora! Come ‘ere.” Bow shouted over the campsite where dozens of racing teams had already started to set up their teamsites. Everyone was putting up tents and holdings, setting up maintenance racks out of movable cabinets, and shoveling blankets over bikes to cover them. Chairs, benches, and tables were taken out to make it comfortable and to form seating areas. Lanterns and lights were hung up for nightly amenities, everyone was whizzing eagerly.
We were already done. Actually, all of our competitors were larger than us, having at least five, six, sometimes ten or more teammates. All of them had several tents. They had support staff, replacement drivers, and people for handling social media and public relations. They even had fans. It was ridiculous.
Brightmoon Rebellion was just the two of us. My best and only friend Bow, a trusted mechanic and fellow consultant in all situations, and me, the tall blonde with a very special personality, to put it that way.
We were fully aware that we were the outcasts in this whole event. Because I was just some kind of joker brought in by Netossa Spinman for whatever reason the snarky bitch had. The CEO and owner of SSN, the media company that broadcasted most of the events within our sport. I was undoubtedly grateful to her, because otherwise, I couldn’t be a part of this. But still, I was wondering why she'd approached me only four weeks ago at another race in Germany. It'd been around an hour after I had won a regional tournament, had done my duties at the photoshoots and an interview for a larger TV channel when she'd strolled over at our site out of the blue.
I had been tinkering with my bike, and Bow had disappeared somewhere when she addressed me. We had occasionally seen each other at similar events, but we had never really talked. Not until today.
And the dark-skinned woman with the strange white and slightly blue hair went straight for the head as she leaned on the table and asked: “Do you think you have what it takes to participate at the Seven Days, Adora Grayskull?” Her voice sounded like a tease, but I wasn't sure.
I stopped the fumbling and cleaned my hand, which was oozing oil. What a cliché, I thought, and without really considering it and with a spiteful attitude, I replied a pretentious “Of course I have.”
But I hadn't taken her seriously then because everyone knew that the Seven Days was an event for large racing teams sponsored by big megadonors or professional racing teams with a history of participation that should and must reach back until the stone age. Or further.
Nothing for a loner like me. Nothing for a rebel.
But Spinman took my word for it. She sounded a little less insufferable than usual as she said: “Okay then, Adora. I offer you our free ticket for participation at said Seven Days. Interested?”
I remembered being baffled and even now I couldn't take her seriously. Finally, I managed to ask: “You have a place in the field? How come?”
She waved a hand, seemingly a bit annoyed about being forced to explain herself and rattled down: “As the sole broadcasting television station and a sponsor of the event itself and whatever, we have the right to select a participant on our behalf. Which could be anyone, and to be honest, we gave it to friends just for fun the last few times. None of us took it seriously. They didn't score anything and it wasn’t the intention at all.”
She winked. “But this year, I wanted to be a bit more... ambitious.”
I listened with growing interest and horror alike. Was she really offering me a place at the one big event of the motorcycle world? To Adora the tomboy, the untamed lone wolf, the solitary that had rejected any offer of the large racing teams over three years now? To some outcast?
I gestured to invite her into our camp, and we sat down at the two benches across from each other.
“Why me?” I croaked, and I scratched my neck, which I always did when I was becoming nervous. Meanwhile, Spinman had grabbed a bottle of beer from a nearby crate, opened it, leaned forward, and whispered conspiratorially: “Because I’m bored, Adora. It’s the same event every year. Someone from the large and ever-winning boring teams will get the trophy. No excitement, no surprise, nothing anyone would deliberately watch on TV if they weren’t an explicit fan of the sport. We could even play last year’s season instead, and nobody would notice.”
She smirked and sipped from the bottle, leaned back again, and continued in a tempting voice: “But you can be a joker, Adora. You are the wildfang there, you are on your own, without a large company behind you. You have gained a good reputation as a reckless but skilled driver over the last seasons. And you have no sponsor or donor, right?” She asked, I nodded, and she seemed to be relieved.
No, I hadn’t, and I had reasons. Reasons not worth mentioning.
Netossa continued: “So it’s just you and your friend against the odds. See Adora, this is a story I can sell. A story the people like, okay? The beautiful outcast against the system is something everyone enjoys. We will focus a little and mention you in our commentaries. Nothing wild, nothing embarrassing. Just a little drama spin for the show. And in return, you can drive the race with no strings attached.” She made a dramaturgical pause and we both knew it. But it worked nonetheless.
“So, Adora, are you up for it? Do you have what it takes?”
She took another sip and seemed quite content with herself.
Of course, she knew she already had me.
In order to save my honor, I didn’t just scream YES! OF COURSE immediately in excitement. I thought about it for a second, shortly worried about being used as a tool of gaining attention for Netossa’s stupid show.
On the other hand, if I could win any big trophy someday, then attention would come right with it. Nothing would be different at all. And therefore, of course I had said yes.
“Thank you very much, Netossa. That’s an opportunity for me, for both of us, I know.” I hesitated for a moment then asked: “Only one question. I don’t have to put any logos or sponsoring material on me or my stuff, right?”
Netossa had a weird look but she quickly answered: “No. Not necessarily. I want you to just be yourself. Untamed. Wild. A lone cowgirl. That’s the story we are going with, okay? Just do as you always do.”
And at these words, I held out my hand and said, “Deal.” She took it and replied: “Be my guest, Adora. I think you will kick some ass at the race and spice it up a little. And that’s all I need. If you need anything, please tell me. We have a bit of a budget for our driver and can spend it within reasonable limits, alright? It’s not like we have people to support you on the field or whatever, so it’s just your team. But some spare money shouldn't be a problem at all.” She promised to hand over a contract tomorrow and left right after. Presumably on the hunt for further prey.
I was still too stunned by the development of the conversation to request anything right then and there but promised to talk to her if anything important came up. After leaving the site and returning to my hotel room in shock, I yelled into a pillow for minutes due to sheer joy, and only after, I was able to call Bow.
And here we were. Bow waved me into our tent to discuss some last minute modifications for the handles and windshield. After we readied everything for tomorrow, we just sat down at our campfire in front of our tent, opened two bottles of beer and toasted each other.
We knew we were going to make a big leap into the fire tomorrow and it left us in mutual bliss as well as excitement.
I liked the campfires. The race management had allowed them and set them up all around the site for this evening. They called it a ‘tool for social gathering before the start’ or whatever, but the organizers did well. During the race days, the daily camps would be more practical and less fancy because they had to be set up and dismantled quickly and with as little effort as possible. But the home camp in Le Mans was cool, large, and comfy. Like a little Burning Man.
"How are you?" Bow asked over the little fire, his face barely visible in the night sky.
"Good, actually. I think I have a good chance, don't you?"
He smiled warmly and laid a hand on my shoulder. "Of course you have. You belong with the best racers here. I don’t doubt you’ll win. Of course,” and he smirked a little, “only if you do not damage Swift Wind again. Maybe I should search for a less careless racer? It would be a relief.”
“You wish, Bow.” I grinned at him and he teased back: “Better keep me happy, Adora, because Prime Racing’s tents look very inviting right now.” He grinned, and then we were giggling at each other. We both knew that none of us would join a large team like those fuckers. He had different reasons than me, but they weren’t weaker than mine.
But nonetheless, I squeezed his hand and said: “We will get this done. As long as we stick together and stay side-by-side, we’re gonna win in the end.”
He nodded slowly and replied: “Sure thing. And always a pleasure, Adora,” while squeezing back. We took another sip of our beers and looked back into the pit, where the bright embers of the fire were glowing, both of us lost in thought.
Catra
The fires around the campsite illuminated the scenery in a nice way, I'd to admit. Night had fallen and I was looking around, watching out for a certain person. But even after visiting several groups of people in different teams, my target wasn’t to be seen. I sat down at one of the tables in front of our own mechanical tent for a few minutes and asked Emily – uhm… Entrapta! – if she'd finished work on my bike. She reminded me every time to use her chosen nickname every time I forgot it. Fortunately, it happened less often today.
I knew I was asking for the third time, but I took my duties seriously. Entrapta nodded eagerly and her pigtails flew around. “I could still make some improvements until tomorrow morning, if you just let me,” she croaked in her inimitable voice.
It earned her low chuckles, and I replied: “Improvements that would clearly violate the rules of the race and disqualify us, right?”
She looked at me with large eyes, tried to understand and was nearly whining when she said: “But it’s just a little tweak in the engine and the suspenders. How can that be illegal? Engineering isn’t even supposed to be illegal, Catra! It’s just what has to be done in the name of progress!”
Her ignorance of the real world was just too funny: “It’s for sure. I read the manual, believe me.”
The woman sighed and replied: “Okay, so there’s nothing more I can do, I think. I’ve checked all parts twice, and your bike is in the best possible condition. It’s just up to you to win tomorrow.”
I knew she hadn't meant it the way I received it. But I still couldn’t help pondering about her words. Yeah, “up to me”, I know. The only recently appointed new team captain here. The risk. Representing long-established Prime Racing, the most famous name in the game.
I vividly remembered the call with the heir to the fortune and CEO Lucius Prime. His cool and controlled voice had pierced through the phone: “I wish for nothing less than an overwhelming victory on our behalf, Mrs. Halfmoon. It is of the utmost importance that there be no doubt about our capabilities.” His vocabulary was a 19th century dictionary.
“Yes, Mr. Prime, I can assure you that a victory is also of the utmost importance to me.” I hoped that no sarcasm escaped me because I had craved for this opportunity, but I just couldn’t stand this tone. And besides, I assumed he wouldn’t even acknowledge any sarcasm.
“Good, good, Mrs. Halfmoon. I am very pleased with your zeal for work. Nonetheless, a word of warning and advice. We’ve chosen you as team captain despite your previous… public display of affection. I do not want to be irritated about improper conduct as long as act upon and represent our reputation.”
I rolled my eyes, thankful for the lack of a video call, and answered: “I understand, Sir. My aim is to win this race, and any distractions have to be put aside for the time being. This is for sure.”
“Very good, very good, Mrs. Halfmoon. A proper demeanour is welcomed. And another hint for your consideration. Please be aware of the abilities of a certain person. Although she leads a small team, she shouldn't be underestimated.”
“You are talking about A – ”
“Yes, Mrs. Halfmoon.” This was the first time he had ever interrupted me and I wondered. In spite of his supposed nefariousness in doing his business, he was a man of the finest manners. “Just keep an eye on her doing in order to be prepared. Further ado is neither necessary nor desirable.”
“I will remember, Mr. Prime. Thank you for the hint.”
“Very fine. Then godspeed, Mrs. Halfmoon.”
I tried to distract myself from overthinking the call and restarted my search for this certain team captain. Despite my boss’s advice, I didn’t only assume this one would be my main opponent at the Seven Days, I already knew it. Over the last weeks, we had been briefed about every captain of every participating team, 54 people in total. And this was the one racer that stood out, the one who could beat me easily.
Qualified or rather shoved in for participation at the last possible minute by the unusual step of a sponsor to introduce an even more unusual but overly competitive racer. Unlike previous years, it had been quite a surprise to everyone, and most of all, for me. Already, I nurtured a little grudge.
And here I was, sneaking around the whole campsite like a creep and searching for the one person I wanted to know. Because I was responsible. Because I had told my colleagues and myself that I wanted to study the enemy. Wanted to study her .
And if I was being honest to myself, I had more motives than just that. I'd been intrigued by her portrait. The lone racer, selfmade professional, not attached with any large team or sponsor. Beautiful. Admittedly, I was curious about the mysterious Adora Grayskull.
Only, that said Adora Grayskull was nowhere to be seen.
At some fires in the campsite’s center, the mood was carefree and loud, people were talking, laughing, some of them singing with voices that were clearly unsuited. Others were a bit better, but all in all, no one sang well. Luckily, they were racers and not singers. I chuckled to myself and went further.
While prowling around, I overheard several discussions, most of them about the motorbikes, the track for the next few days, the accommodations and - of course - the inevitable interpersonal relationships always occuring during such events. I wouldn’t fall for such distractions, no way. My aim was clear, and like I said, other considerations had to be put aside. Point.
And so I strolled to the outer edges of the campsite where the smaller teams were located, deliberately or not. As a member of Prime Racing, we had located our three large tents at the center, illuminating the site there like a stadium at a game at night. But here, it was darker, the tents were smaller and only a few people were sitting here and there, just quietly talking.
After circling further around for another ten minutes, I finally caught sight of the tall blonde. She was wearing her signature red racing dress and had a white basecap with an orange-red stripe and little wings at both sides on her head. She sat at a small campfire, poking around in the embers with a branch. Behind her, a relatively small but pretty tent had been set up. It had the same colours as her dress, perfectly resembling the look with red and white stripes. A stylized emblem and writing were drawn over it but now mostly hidden in the dark. The tent was large enough to contain her bike, the tools her mechanic used to maintain it, and presumably a small place for them to sleep. But not much more. It was the equipment of someone without much money, but it also looked like for whatever the money was spent, it was well made and of high quality. That was exactly how I judged her.
And luckily, she was alone, holding a bottle of beer and nipping at it from time to time while looking into the fire, brooding. I approached her from up front and stopped at a bench across from hers.
She didn’t look up as I asked: “Would you mind some company? It’s too loud over there.” And with that, I pointed behind me towards the larger fires.
“No problem,” it muttered behind a curtain of blonde hair as the woman continued poking, still not looking up from under her basecap. I settled down at the bench across from her and sipped at my drink. An uncomfortable silence fell over us until I asked: “Also not a friend of loud parties?”
Grayskull did not answer immediately, but after a while, she said: “I’m just not in the mood tonight. And I don’t want to get drunk the evening before the race starts. That would be dumb.” Her voice was brittle, but not unfriendly.
And I understood her immediately: “Yeah. They don’t take tomorrow’s challenges seriously enough, that’s for sure. This is not a holiday camp. Idiots."
She coughed, and my answer finally made her look up. For the first time, her eyes fell on me. Hers were some kind of intense ocean-blue with a hint of grey in it. Her look was firm, and she eyed me with a kind curiosity. I had already seen from videos that Adora Grayskull was beautiful, but reality was far beyond pictures.
She wasn’t beautiful in the way a model was with her jawline being a bit too harsh and her eyebrows too defined. Must be in her mid-twenties.
Her long and perfectly proportionate limbs, the muscular and composed figure, evenly-shaped face, and presumably soft and perfect skin put together a real beauty.
But what made her exceptional was her presence. She had the charisma and aura of a rough and ancient nordish goddess, and her presence alone made me unsteady. It was like she was shining from the inside. I immediately grabbed my bottle and nipped at it just to have something to do with my hands. And to hide my flush.
“That’s my literal thinking. Thank you for agreeing with me on that,” Grayskull said, her voice husky like she hadn’t spoken in a while, and her look lingered on my face. I instantly knew what she was looking at, and in the next second, she went on: “Wow! Your eyes are heterochromatic, right?”
I nodded, surprised at her correct designation of this special feature of mine. “Yeah, that’s my burden,” I sighed.
She waved in rejection and shook her head, her face an expression of denial: “Don’t say that. They are beautiful and they suit you well. They make you someone special.” Her hair flowed around her head, and I was… attracted. Her simple and sincere compliment, spoken without any cynicism left me speechless, and I needed an awkward moment to come back: “Ermm.. thank you.” I'd never been good at that.
This woman wasn’t what I had expected, and I desperately tried not to stare at the ocean blue in front of me.
“Just the truth,” she said in a relaxed voice, took a sip and silence fell again. But this time, it wasn’t awkward but something mutual. After some time, she casually asked: “You don’t like loud parties as well?”
That was more like my terrain, so I replied: “Actually, I do, but not today. I’m taking this as seriously as you do. Tomorrow is a big one for my team, and I don’t want to get wasted. We have work to do here. So I just stick to this one–” I pointed at the beer. “–and some laid-back conversation.“ And pointed around us, grinning.
Adora grinned. “Hah, laid-back. You maybe, I’m definitely not.” I frowned a bit. To me, she seemed absolutely composed and serene the whole time.
“Why that? You must be the chillest person here.” Oops, that may have been one step too revealing.
And yes, she was now studying me more closely for the first time. Gone was the easy and relaxed glance from a minute ago. “You know who I am?” she asked, and it wasn’t a real question but rather a well-based assumption.
Time to play with open cards, I thought. "Who in the racing scene hasn't heard of Adora Grayskull. The rebellious lone wolf that made her way all the way up to here. Winner of the Isle of Man TT and Ulster Grand Prix, the German Speedweek and several minor international Supersports-Series. Not to mention all the regional stuff. Driving the only Fireblade in the sport.1 Pretty impressive, if you ask me. Of course I know about you."
She looked down at her bottle and let it circle in her hand, clearly pondering about my words. Then, she simply held out her hand and replied: "Call me Adora. What's your name again?"
I reached for her hand and said: "Name's C—" but I was abruptly interrupted by a very loud, very annoying voice.
"ADOOORAA! MY DEAR! HOW ARE YOU?” I jumped in surprise and turned around to see a tall guy with messy brown hair and a moustache approaching us.
“Aah, the infamous Sebastian Seahawk,” Adora mocked but with a friendly tone. Obviously, they knew each other because Adora stood up and embraced him in a warm and familiar gesture.
While watching them, I mused that I wanted to do the exact same with the beautiful blonde woman I knew for only around… 15 minutes? I scolded myself about being an idiot and took another sip, sat down again, and watched in silence. Like an idiot.
“It’s nice to have you here, Seahawk,” Adora said and gestured for him to sit down as well.
He placed himself at her side and his attention was all on her. “Thank you Adora. I’m really lucky that my dearest Mermista secured my participation for another time. Without her–” He was interrupted by Adora who muddled his short haircut.
“Naah. Don’t put yourself down, Hawk! You’re an excellent driver.” She smirked a little and looked over to me. “He might even finish second tomorrow, who knows?”
I began to slide back and forth. This woman had it in her to drive me crazy, and I started to think that coming over here and asking her out hadn’t been the very best idea at all. She made me giddy, and I deeply missed my usual coolness.
But that Seahawk guy seemed to be absolutely familiar with her. “Oh thank you Adora. Such a compliment from you means a lot to me. But don’t you consider our competitors too... low then? There are, of course, better ones than me.”
Seahawk was actually right. He was a good racer, compared to the usual professionals. He had his share of wins throughout the scene. His trophies wouldn’t fill a whole cabinet but clearly a display case. Only that within this circle of the best of the best, even he knew he was a midfielder. Nothing to be ashamed of in the presence of someone like Adora Grayskull. Or me, to be honest.
Nonetheless, he had a reputation for being kind as well as annoying at the same time. Someone to drive me crazy, of course. But right now, I was all ears.
Because that topic was exactly why I had come over, and this oblivious idiot would dig it out of her for me.
Adora seemed to think about the question, and I began to realize that this woman was smarter than what met the eye. She always thought before saying something. An interesting trait.
Finally she replied: “I think the competition is really strong this year. We have some world-class drivers over there, not only because of their teams and money, but because they are experienced and aggressive enough. But…” She fell dry and stopped, watching her bottle that she circled in her hand.
“But what,” Seahawk asked, and I found myself nodding.
Adora leaned forward, elbows on her knees and chin in her palms. The campfire illuminated her lines in an unbelievably attractive way. “Hmm… I know them all, all their abilities. I watched them many times, and I know I can beat them. Everyone. Some are already past the peak of their performance, others lack the experience of long street races and would do better on regular racing tracks.”
She inhaled audibly. “But the Seven Days isn’t a race in the arena. It’s more like running through the wilderness. You need different abilities out there.” Silently, I agreed with her on that, her observations being absolutely correct.
She hesitated shortly but then continued: “There is only one top racer I haven’t checked because she was too new to do research.”
Seahawk leaned forward, and instinctively, I followed as if we were all part of a little conspiracy as Adora continued: “It’s the new captain of Prime Racing, Catra Halfmoon.”
Oof! I had it coming but was surprised nonetheless. Adora and I hadn't seen each other before, and right now, I was sitting in front of her, while she was oblivious to the fact that Catra Halfmoon was me, her counterpart.
To my luck or my pity, I wasn’t in my team clothes. No hint either.
But as my gaze turned over to Seahawk, I realized that he knew exactly who I was. He started to open his mouth but was cut short by Adora, who hadn’t paid attention. “I saw some videos of her on Youtube. Just cutouts. She’s good. She’s really good.” She emphasized the word “really” very much, and her voice was low. “She has no experience as a team captain but that doesn’t matter here. On this track, only the racer and their machine counts, nothing else. It’s like with you and me, Hawk. It’s only us. And she’s a little rascal on the bike. Like me. So yes, she might be nearly as good as I am.”
Oh my goddess, I was blushing. Adora’s word hit me deep in the gut and made me feel warm. And she still had no clue about me. Oh good goddess, I’m such an idiot.
Meanwhile, Adora had leaned back, gulped down a last sip from her bottle and then said to Seahawk in a light tone: “At least I think so. So maybe you’re gonna be the third one, okay?” And she grinned a wide and affable smile.
I couldn’t help but to cackle loud, and then, I saw Adora smiling at me as well. As our gazes met, I saw a mutuality that made me feel good for just a moment. But after the laughter died down, I saw Seahawk’s expression and that he was struggling with himself, about to speak out the obvious. I made a snap decision, rose, and called at him: “You must show me your bike. Come on, where is your tent?”
He was baffled. I laid my hand on his shoulder and muttered “Come on, now...” and squeezed his shoulder blade perceptibly.
The man stood up, and I gently pushed him away from the campfire, only turning around to wave Adora a goodbye. She was surprised, clearly not expecting such a quick turn of events. Her glance was nonetheless unfathomable as her figure vanished into the dark of the night.
I pushed Seahawk over to one of the larger sites where people were still chattering and turned to him. “Don’t tell her. I will do it for myself. I just didn’t want to make the situation awkward, okay?”
He eyed me for a short while, and then replied with something between pathos and concern: “You already did. Don't play games with her. She is a friend of mine, a kind person, and she deserves respect. She won’t have any mean behaviour. And I won’t either. Do you understand?”
My answer came hastily. “No, I won’t, okay? It was just a misunderstanding.”
Again, he ogled me. “Okay, I’ll hold you onto that. And I will keep an eye on you, Halfmoon. See you around.” He turned and left me there, walking over to his own team, Salineas Bikes.
While walking to my hotel room, I pondered about the events. Not revealing my identity had been stupid, of course. I had been surprised, and Adora’s whole attitude had thrown me off balance. I was attracted to her, that much was for sure. But this kind of… pull was outright stupid.
This woman was someone who was fully aware of her abilities and skills. She was confident and tough. But she also held a kind of innocent and frank attitude that I deeply admired.
Nonetheless, she was my opponent, the real enemy for the next few days, the one racer I had to beat to gain my trophy, to prove myself worthy of my newly gained position as team captain, to secure the position for the next few years. And so I went back to my bedroom, still pondering about how to beat the beautiful and adorable woman tomorrow and in the days to come.
Adora. I rolled the name on my tongue, and it sounded warm, already familiar. I sighed, wiped it off my train of thought and tried to sleep. I tried.
(Adora ~ 0 ~ Catra)