angstmuppet-in-training. whee.
17 Mar 2002 10:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cimorenethe mild-mannered adora becomes she-ra only when she holds aloft her sword and says "for the honor of grayskull, i am she-ra!"
her identity crisis, as explored in my new story: (yes, i know, with the snippets, but i'm trying to tease you into reading it):
You are not She-Ra. You are Adora, and you were raised by a Papa who executed people every day, and a Mama who kept your will slave to a spell. The leadership of the Rebellion listens to you, but it does not depend on you, and when you appear in Castle Bright Moon one day, your cheeks still flushed from the wind of flight, your body tight-tuned and fine-wired from adrenaline, your best friend takes your arm, his cape swirling behind him, and says: "Adora! Where were you? You missed it all--all the wonderful things She-Ra did!"
And you smile at him, and say you're sorry you missed everything again, and you hope one day you will see She-Ra, and you feel sand slipping through your fingers. You pass She-Ra every day in a hall of mirrors; when you reach out for her you touch only glass.
[you know, i've never written a love poem that was good? i'm okay at haiku, and stuff. if i had someone to serenade, i'd do it with stories. of course, i did for aubry, sort of, but i'm not in love with her, even if she is the best girl in the universe. --anyway. if this story were a love poem, what would it be about? to a certain extent all of my stories are love poems... deep philosophical thoughts. haha.]
her identity crisis, as explored in my new story: (yes, i know, with the snippets, but i'm trying to tease you into reading it):
You are not She-Ra. You are Adora, and you were raised by a Papa who executed people every day, and a Mama who kept your will slave to a spell. The leadership of the Rebellion listens to you, but it does not depend on you, and when you appear in Castle Bright Moon one day, your cheeks still flushed from the wind of flight, your body tight-tuned and fine-wired from adrenaline, your best friend takes your arm, his cape swirling behind him, and says: "Adora! Where were you? You missed it all--all the wonderful things She-Ra did!"
And you smile at him, and say you're sorry you missed everything again, and you hope one day you will see She-Ra, and you feel sand slipping through your fingers. You pass She-Ra every day in a hall of mirrors; when you reach out for her you touch only glass.
[you know, i've never written a love poem that was good? i'm okay at haiku, and stuff. if i had someone to serenade, i'd do it with stories. of course, i did for aubry, sort of, but i'm not in love with her, even if she is the best girl in the universe. --anyway. if this story were a love poem, what would it be about? to a certain extent all of my stories are love poems... deep philosophical thoughts. haha.]
