Chapter Text
![[Image description: Catra and Adora, in two separate rooms. Catra is sitting on a bench in front of a canvas, holding a mug and wearing a red t-shirt and blue shorts. Adora is wearing a black suit, inside a meeting room and holding a digital device. There are people talking with her, but their image is blurred. Aside from being in separate rooms, Catra and Adora are looking at each other.]](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/ExbyoAzWUAM0fla?format=jpg&name=large)
In her earliest childhood memories, Catra remembers her Ma's cryptic green eyes and pitch-black hair. She doesn't know exactly who she is, besides the fact that she doesn't belong on this planet. That is the only thing she knows for sure. She doesn't even know if Ma is her real mother, although Ma always knew what was best for Catra and her siblings - other Archetypes, like her. She also doesn't know if she's really related to them, but she prefers to think so. It's not like Catra could just ask about it, to be honest...
Ma has prepared her and the others Archetypes during their entire lives and Catra knows that when the time comes, she will be sent to the Vallean family that bought her. Archetypes are sold to the Valleans at the age of ten and delivered when they reach human adulthood, with the promise of being perfectly functional beings. She has been trained to be owned by the First's eldest daughter and the few things Catra knows about the woman is that she has a huge reputation and that she never wanted to have an Archetype - but it is her family's tradition, so she just went with it to not have to deal with any more problems. Catra also knows that Valleans do not necessarily need us, humans: they are masters of technology and have robots of all kinds. But the only thing they don't have is the artistic ability and the ability to interpret art emotionally.
That is why Catra needs to be perfect - because humans are only needed to create art and yet they can be discarded as easily as a broken device. Discarded archetypes are sent to the Machine - one more thing she can't say for sure what it is, except that it's a horrible place. And Catra rathers to not discover about it the worst way.
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Despair, insanity and toxic air. It is what humans remember from the last Great War. Most of the humans who could be saved from the catastrophes either died from radiation or could not adapt to the atmosphere in Vallea IX. Those who survived became mere animals for breeding. Sixty years have passed and, although it is basically the life span of a human, it was nothing for the Valleans, who could live easily for centuries. The planet they gave humans is the ninth of thirteen that they own and, in a brief mention, nothing compared to the species of plants and animals that Catra read about in books from Earth, not to mention the complex climates and diverse cultures. Now there was almost nothing left, with the exception of a few specimens kept in the private zoos and botanical gardens of Vallea I, at the homes of the most powerful ones.
The point is - Catra's 20th birthday would be next week. She had suffered all the times that one of her siblings reached adulthood and had to go, leaving her to deal with the younger ones, who came into the house from time to time. Her life was not as bad as it seems: Catra used most of her time in training for her future owner, reading the list of books that the clan of the First ones considered important, doing series of physical activities, studying fine arts, music, theatre and all kinds of things pre-designated by the First clan. And in her spare time, Catra helped her Ma with the children and gossiped with her siblings. They were a too-large family, but they also were so immersed in their responsibilities and training that they really didn't have time to fight or, more importantly, ask questions. It was what it was.
And even though she understood that things were the way they were, she could not contain the feeling of grandness hidden in her chest, the anxiety to ask questions, to obtain more information, to simply know. It was bigger than her and that was exactly why Catra spent most of her time lost in thoughts, being forced to hear repressions from her Ma or worse, threats to be sent to the Machine.
Then she would just shut up and do her duties. Because she was a lucky one. Lucky because she was born beautiful, raised in one of the most respected Archetype training houses in Vallea and had been auctioned off to a powerful and influential family. She had to act accordingly, for being someone so privileged within a decaying human society.
Archetypes were used, as the name suggests, as an exemplar model of everything that involves beauty, delicacy and harmony. The training implied that they were made to be the perfect companion for the Valleans, almost custom made. Valleans had such a good lifestyle that it became tedious - just like the young bourgeoisie of the Romantic period on Earth. Archetypes could be used as models for display, as a company, as friends or as lovers - even if it was slightly frowned upon by Vallean society. It all depended on the level of boredom your owner was in.
The point is - Adora First has everything but boredom. And even though Catra knew so little about the woman, it was not necessary to study her life very deeply to realize how powerful and brilliant she was. Sometimes, Ma would come up with reports about some scientific award that First had won or a new media outlet, to show her how much she had to study just to be able to talk to someone like Adora. But it was clear that her Ma did not show the interviews where Adora vehemently stated that she did not see the need to have an Archetype, which was soon covered up by the rest of the First clan. Yet, Catra always found them, even if by accident.
She knew she had been purchased by mere convention and that was exactly what kept her apprehensive, being aware that the chances of being dumped into the Machine were much greater when one was not desired. Her beauty could have protected Catra from many things, but it certainly wouldn't protect her from Adora First.
''I cannot believe what I am seeing, Catra! In a week you will go to your owner's house and all you do is daydream the entire time.'' She heard her Ma, who was staring at Catra with those cold and censuring eyes of hers. ''How many more times will I have to explain that your owner is not a simple Vallean but one of the most influential…'' It was at that moment that Catra would lower her head and return to her daydreaming, knowing full well that the moment she heard the word machine, the speech would be coming to an end and she would have to pay attention again to what Ma said. ‘’… Honestly, this way you’ll beat the record of fastest human to be dumped on the Machine. You have everything to have a promising future, so act accordingly, Catra. ’'
‘’Yes, ma'am. ’’ She nodded as Ma retired, going to check the other Archetypes under her care. It turns out, Catra knew her Ma was right, but there was something inside her that said it all was so wrong, that not-so-subtle restlessness that only waned when she painted one of her canvas or played the piano.
Out of curiosity, the musical instruments remained the same as those from Earth, without much modifications besides the colours and materials used - Valleans were unable to understand art. They didn't see music or paint with the same eyes as humans - or with the same passion - so a lot remained untouched. And that was the main mission of the Archetypes - to continue to produce art and to guarantee ways for the Valleans to understand it. Being music, literature, theatre, any Archetype that was capable of producing something beautiful was worthy of a Vallean's attention. Because they could not understand or see sense in producing art - something so worthless - but they were able to admire it for its beauty and technique. They were born perfectionists.
And it was precisely the art that connected Catra with Earth so much. A passion that began with the study of artistic movements and, when she realised, she had become a true enthusiast of the planet of origin of the human race. Catra knew that her only connection with the place was the fact that she was human, but that did not stop her from wishing that she had been born much earlier, in a period when disputes had not yet taken over the entire planet, when thousands of bodies were wiped out and minimised to mere "political conflicts." In a period when planet Earth hadn't been reduced to dust and radiation yet.
Although Vallea IX was a planet with the necessary conditions for life, it did not have what made the Earth, the Earth. Vallea had its species, its culture, its literature - of a technical-scientific genre -, but the constant absence of the feeling of belonging bothered her. Catra didn't know how it was possible to miss something she had never had, but that was one of the absurd things she felt and couldn't even begin to find an explanation.
So, yeah, in a week she would meet one of the most brilliant minds of all thirteen Valleas.