Chapter Text
Quaint.
That was the best way to describe Thaymor, the sleepy suburb nestled beside the much larger college town of Brightmoon.
Quaint. And festive, based on how the townsfolk went all out decorating their homes and the three-block stretch of their tiny downtown each holiday season.
The town itself was split into two parts, with quiet family neighborhoods on one end and ancient-revival style mansions repurposed as Brightmoon University frat houses on the other. But there was one holiday that brought both halves together in a way that nothing else did.
Halloween.
Because a quaint town isn’t a quaint town without a good urban legend. And Thaymor took a weird pride in its own: The Shadow Weavers.
All except for one resident.
“Why are there so many wires?” Catra grumbled through clenched teeth, claws snagging on another knot of tangled pumpkin-shaped lights.
It would've been a typical autumn morning if Razz, the eccentric owner of Books and Brew, hadn’t decided today was the day the café-slash-bookstore needed to become the block’s biggest fire hazard by installing every single Halloween decoration she owned. Orange lights hung haphazardly from every bookshelf. Fog machines loomed ominously in corners. Plastic tombstones lined the path to the register, and Catra wasn’t sure what in the gods names she was supposed to do with the deflated lawn ornament husks still bunched in the storage room.
According to Razz, transforming the shop into Jack Skellington’s wet dream was the only way to “retain their whimsy” against the corporate coffee chain that had swallowed up every other independent café in Thaymor's tiny downtown over the past two years. Books and Brew was the last survivor.
This shop was by far Catra’s most stable part-time gig, so she wouldn’t argue any logic for keeping it in business, but sitting cross-legged on cold wooden floors at six in the morning detangling wires wasn't exactly how she'd planned to spend her shift before heading to class. On a normal morning, she’d restock a few titles, dust some shelves, and claim her usual spot on the worn leather sofa in the back corner with whatever novel caught her interest. This early, most customers bypassed Catra and her expertise on the ‘books’ side of Books and Brew. They instead beelined straight to the coffee bar in the 'brew' section, manned by fellow broke-college-student-in-arms, Mermista.
*Ding*
The bell above the door chimed sweetly, immediately drowned out by a shrill “HEEHEEHEEHEE! HEEHEEHEEHEE!” from an electronic witch's voice box Razz had insisted on installing by the entrance.
“Oooh, that's new!”
Catra froze and checked the time. Runner Girl, one of their Tuesday and Thursday morning regulars, was earlier than usual today. Catra let the ball of wire lights tumble from her hands and jumped to her feet, slowly walking to the edge of the aisle to peek around the shelf and get a clear look at the coffee bar.
“It’s festive, dearie!” Razz called from the front register, where she was arranging ceramic eyeballs with the intense focus of someone conducting a sacred ritual… or of a nostalgic retired serial killer.
“It’s gonna drive me to homicide before my shift ends,” Mermista droned from where she leaned over the coffee bar, chin resting in one hand. Catra heard her straighten with a soft sigh. “Protein coffee?”
“Yes, please,” Runner Girl said, voice bubbly as ever as she appeared into view around the edge of the shelf. Her blonde hair was up in the its signature ponytail with a ridiculous yet at the same time cute hair poof. “Maybe add an extra shot?”
Catra exhaled slowly and shook her hands out.
Today was going to be the day. She'd promised herself that much on Tuesday morning. She could continue hiding in the shadows of these bookshelves forever, stealing glances at the girl of her dreams, or she could finally step into the light and say something. Anything.
“Wowww, a triple shot,” Mermista's voice held a rare hint of playfulness. “You plan on being out late for Halloween? At a party, perhaps?”
“We’ll see,” Runner Girl chuckled, rubbing a hand along the back of her still slightly dewy neck. What Catra would give to be that hand. “The gang has something else in mind for tonight, but maybe after.”
Catra stepped into the aisle.
“Cryptic,” Mermista simply replied. “Lemme grab that triple for ya.”
“You’re a godsendddddd,” Runner Girl praised. Catra could see a beautiful lopsided grin from her side profile.
Catra took a step forward.
“By the way, I love how you deck this place out every holiday. Are you adding more and more decorations as the month goes on like you did for Spring?” Runner Girl asked as she looked down at her phone, thumbs dancing across the screen.
Catra took another step forward.
“Pretty much. Razz checks the thrift stores damn near every day and makes Catra set up whatever new shit she finds when she opens.”
“Catra?” Runner Girl looked up from phone to send a questioning glance Mermista’s way.
And what makes you think she’d be interested?
Catra froze.
In YOU of all people?
Catra slammed her eyes closed. That voice.
“Nope nope nope nope nope,” Catra hissed under her breath, spinning on her heel. Her heart pounded erratically as she retreated into the safety of the bookshelves, disappearing before Runner Girl could turn around.
Today was NOT the day.
“You know. Catra. The other hottie working the sunrise shift.” Mermista's voice carried that particular annoyed tone reserved for explaining something obvious.
“Here?” Runner Girl’s voice went up in pitch. “I thought it was just you and Razz.”
Catra let out a calming breath now that she was hidden back in the safety of her shelves. She could still hear the conversation clearly, thanks to her Magicat hearing, but Runner Girl was always on a tight schedule. She knew this exchange would end quickly once Mermista finished making her drink. She looked up to scan which section she retreated into.
Thaymor History.
How fitting.
Her eyes skimmed over the titles until they landed on a dark brown spine with gold embossing that seemed to catch what little light penetrated this corner of the store.
“You're right. Catra is just the ghost of the last biology major who died of boredom on this shift.” Mermista's deadpan delivery almost made Catra smile. “Some people say she still haunts the store til this day, throwing up tacky Halloween decorations and clocking out before checking if the bathroom's been cleaned before she leaves LIKE SHE'S SUPPOSED TO.”
The last words echoed loudly through the store. Catra rolled her eyes, fingers closing around the spine of the book that had caught her attention.
“Uhh, yeah. Heheh,” Runner Girl chuckled uneasily, obviously not sure whether Mermista was being serious or sarcastic. It was an art trying to decipher that in any conversation with her. “But thanks! And if I don’t see you later, Happy Halloween!”
Catra pulled the book from the shelf, a thin cloud of dust following it into the air. She made her way towards her favorite sofa in the back corner of the shop.
Razz’s loud “Enjoy your day, Mara, dearie!” followed by the door’s soft ding and the loud cackle of the sound box let Catra know that Runner Girl had left.
After a few minutes of silence, Catra smirked as she heard footsteps approach. “What’cha reading, kitty?” Mermista dropped onto the edge of the sofa near Catra’s feet and leaned forward to see the title of the thick book sitting up against Catra’s stomach. “The Shadow Weavers of Thaymor,” she read aloud. “So hoodoo shit.”
Catra snorted, tail flicking against the cushion. “Tis the season, amirite?”
“Speaking of, you coming out tonight?”
“To Sea Hawk’s frat?” Catra's nose wrinkled involuntarily. Frat Row was already obnoxious on regular weekends. On Halloween, it would be insufferable.
This holiday wasn’t exactly a fun day for hybrids. There was already a slew of offensive Magicat costumes she’d end up seeing, but on top of that, there’d be the people who’d reach out and grab at her tail or ears, asking where she bought them from. If some drunken frat boy did it, she WOULD end up fighting at Seahawk’s party.
“I might just stay in tonight.”
“Nooooooo. C’monnnnnnnn. Be funnnnnnn with meeeeeeeee.”
“What do you call what we’re doing now?” Catra asked in mock offense.
“Having non-work conversations during company time, dearies!” Razz’s voice called from somewhere else in the store.
“So now she decides to be lucid…” Catra muttered under her breath.
“Well, if you won’t come out and play tonight, are you looking for work? Shadow Shots could use more bodies.” Mermista's tone shifted to something more serious.
Catra tilted her head with a furrowed brow. Two things she appreciated most about Mermista was her willingness to dick off during work hours and how she understood the grind. They were both broke and juggling multiple jobs to try and keep up with their expenses. Mermista was lucky enough to have a loaded boyfriend while Catra was lucky enough to be on scholarship that covered tuition but little else. They gained a strong kinship being the only sane people stuck on the dawn shifts of Books and Brew over the past two years, which led to them sharing job openings with each other… and to becoming promo girls, handing out samples of energy drinks or liquor in bars while wearing whatever skimpy branding the company provided. The money was good, but there was one brand that Catra wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole and Mermista knew it.
“Seriously?”
“Hear me out.” Mermista raised her hands, as if trying to calm a wild animal. “I know you hate them, but they are DESPERATE for girls tonight. Sounds like their usuals already have plans,” she motioned to herself as if to prove a point, “And they don’t wanna miss out on the Halloween bar traffic, so they’re paying extra.” She leaned closer, voice dropping. “Rent is literally due tomorrow.”
Mermista's eyes flicked to the book in Catra's hands. “And considering you're so interested in the Shadow Weavers anyway, why not make a quick buck off the alcohol that made them their mascot?”
Catra sighed, one claw absently tracing the gold embossing on the cover. “I'll think about it.”
“I’ll drop the costume off at your place before I head over to Hawk’s.”
“Costume?” Catra lifted an eyebrow.
“Oh yeah, you’ve never promo’d for them before.” Mermista smirked. “Less crop tops and short shorts, more masks and muumuus like the original Shadow Weavers.”
Catra rolled her eyes, but her claws continued to trace the outline of the figure embossed on the book's cover. Her finger followed the path of a what felt like cracked mask where a face should be.
“Do you think they were real?” Mermista asked suddenly.
“Hm?” Catra let the book lower to sit flat in her lap.
Mermista nodded towards the book. “The Shadow Weavers and all that heinous shit that supposedly happened in this town way back in the day. Think it’s real?”
“Who knows. Probably.” Catra finally sat up, closing the book with a soft thud that sent another cloud of dust into the air between them. “The shit everyone did in their name after... that for sure was.” Her voice hardened. “My foster mom could attest to that.”
“Ohhh, yes. May she rest in hell.” Mermista tented her hands and bowed her head in mock prayer. After a moment, she looked up, expression softening slightly. “But for real, come out tonight. I feel you could use a drink.”
“Nah, I’ll probably just stay in and keep it lowkey.”
“Pleasssseeeeee, Wildcat, pleassssseeeeee?”
“Whhhhhyyyyyy,” Catra spun around to face her best friend, exasperated. “Of all nights, why?”
“You said you wanted to see me in a relationship,” Scorpia responded, her big frame filling the doorway of Catra’s room in the shoddy house they rented on the outskirts of town.
“I said I wanted you to get laid!” Catra shot back, finger jabbing the air between them. “BIG difference.”
“Statistically speaking, she’s more likely to get laid by going out on Halloween than she will on any other night until end of finals week,” their third housemate, Entrapta, called from the adjacent bedroom, her voice muffled but still perfectly audible through the paper-thin walls.
Catra forcefully thumped her fist against their shared wall in response.
“Perfuma’s not even that type of girl,” Scorpia whined.
“Then this relationship FOR SURE doesn’t get my blessing!”
“But Wildcat,” Scorpia's lower lip trembled slightly as she stared at Catra with purposeful puppy-dog eyes. She lifted her pincers to her chin and hunched her massive shoulders, somehow making her six-foot-four frame look small and vulnerable.
Catra hated that it was working.
“Why me?” she finally sighed. “You can’t take Entrapta with you? I’m sure she’d be a lovely wing woman.”
“I already have plans tonight!” Entrapta called through the wall again. Then after a brief pause, “…NERDDD!!!” Another pause. “Ooooh, that was fun! I understand why you like to shout that at me so much!”
Catra closed her eyes and took a long calming inhale through her nostrils. “What plans could she possibly—wait. Actually, no. Nope. Don’t even wanna know,” she quietly said to herself more than to either of her housemates.
“Hacking Halloween decorations to scare the trick-or-treaters at Hordak’s!” Entrapta called from behind her wall anyway.
“One of her friends has a family who was touched by magic!” Scorpia blurted, continuing her case for Catra to join her. “Her dad and her aunt, so she might be touched too! They say the rumors about the old haunted house off K Street are true.”
“Oh, I bet she’s touched alright,” Catra supplied, juking left then right as she tried to figure out if there was a way to squeeze past Scorpia.
“They just want to give connecting with the magic spirits there a go! See if they can talk to the spirit of a First One or something.”
“And what exactly would the Spirit of a First One have to say, Scorpia?” Catra's voice dripped with sarcasm as her tail swished behind her. “Especially with the two of us there? 'Since when did you start letting the cats and scorpions out their cages'?”
“Wildcattt, plleaasssseeee.” Scorpia begged. “I don't think they really expect anything from it, but from the stories her aunt told her, the original group that made contact with the First Ones and drove the Shadow Weavers out of Thaymor included a Magicat.”
Catra's ears flattened against her skull as she felt a chill run down her spine. The book she'd been reading at work that morning flashed through her mind.
“They think that's why no one's been able to do it since,” Scorpia continued, oblivious to Catra's discomfort. “No Magicat spirit guide.”
“You're using my rarity against me?” Catra's claws extended slightly, digging into her palms. “Entrapta literally hacked a magic magnetic field reader last year. She’d be perfect for this.”
“Love an MMF reader,” Entrapta’s voice floated through the wall.
“Her family's also rich.”
That made Catra pause. Her ears perked up involuntarily.
“And she's willing to pay premium for a Magicat guide to help channel the magic of the house.”
The word “premium” hung in the air between them. Catra's mind immediately jumped to her bank account balance, or rather, the lack thereof. And rent was due tomorrow. And as the person who usually spotted Catra her portion of the rent until she had the funds to pay up every other month, Scorpia knew Catra’s financial troubles better than most.
“You could’ve led with that. Is there a reason it has to be tonight?”
“I mean… It’s Halloween. What other night would it be?”
Catra sighed. Everything about this screamed ‘terrible idea’ but she was already turning down promo shifts tonight to avoid the drunken Halloween crowd. Potentially getting a whole night’s pay for just an hour or two of pulling some rich kids’ legs didn’t sound like too bad a deal.
“And one of their parents is the Historic Director for Thaymor, so they have a key!” Scorpia continued excitedly. “The place is usually locked tight on Halloween to keep kids from trying to go in and mess around, but we can actually get inside!”
“Okay, I’m interested,” Catra finally relented. “But what if they post about it and it goes viral or some shit? I don’t wanna be caught dead as the magicat known for trying to run some weird séance ritual.”
“If the rumors are true, isn’t being caught dead in that place exactly what will happen?” Entrapta chimed in once again from her side of the wall.
Catra's eyes widened at the statement and she opened her mouth to reply, but Scorpia quickly cut her off.
“You don’t even believe that! Trust me, Wildcat, nothing will happen! There’s gonna to be a bunch of us! Ooh, and if you don’t want to be caught on camera, just wear a costume!”
“You know I didn’t buy a costume.”
“Thennnn I guess it's a good thing Mermista dropped one off today.” Scorpia raised her pincer to point into Catra's room, where a pile of folded clothes sat atop her desk. Catra turned, squinting at the dark fabric she must have missed when she first walked in. “She said it was in case you changed your mind about the Shadow Shots gig, but I'm sure you can still wear it to the house.”
Catra walked over to the desk, lifting the fabric with her claws. As it unfolded, she recognized the distinctive tattered design of a Shadow Weaver costume, complete with a red mask that would hide her face entirely.
Her stomach churned as memories threatened to surface. Shadow Weavers. The very name carried weight in her mind, dragging with it fragments of her childhood. She wasn’t sure what her foster mother had been more obsessed with. The Shadow Weavers themselves with their dumb ideologies, or the alcohol that came in the bottles with their likeness stamped on them.
She should be repulsed by the idea of wearing this costume. Yet there was something almost poetic about it. But again… rent was due tomorrow.
Like mother like daughter.
“This is so twisted,” she murmured, staring at the mask in her hands.
“Sooo... is that a yes?” Scorpia asked hopefully, her voice cutting through Catra's thoughts.
Catra looked up, her decision made. “Fine. But I want half the money up front, and if anyone tries to record me, I'm out.”
“Yes!” Scorpia pumped a pincer victoriously. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise you won't regret it!”
Catra turned back to the costume, running her claws over the mask's eyeholes. “I already do,” she whispered, but not loud enough for Scorpia to hear.