"Alix. Alix!"
She was drifting through a gray haze. Someone was yelling at her, from somewhere she couldn't see. The sound was muffled, distant, and it took every ounce of focus that she had to follow it.
Awareness, when it came, came suddenly, followed by an obnoxious ringing in her ears and a sickening pain pulsating through her left shin. It was darker, oddly, with her eyes open. She fought off a flood of breathless panic and sat up with a groan.
Immediately, she felt a responding flurry of action to her right. Air rushed past her cheek and she stiffened, then yelped as large hands ran gently up her side to trace the lines of her face.
Alix had always prided herself on her instincts. Speedskating through the hectic streets of Paris demanded foresight and reflexive action, demanded that she allow her mind to take a passive role and leave the decision-making to her body.
And if, as in that moment, her body made the decision to swing a blind but well-aimed punch toward the solar plexus of her unknown molester, well, she would stand by that decision.
Oooon the other hand, she really hadn't expected the wall of abdominal muscle that met her fist to LAUGH. And she certainly hadn't expected that laugh to sound in any way familiar.
"Kim?"
"Alix -"
"Kim, oh thank god. You got captured too, man?"
"Only because we got stuck in the shoe store at the mall while everything was going to shit. The
stampede of people outside was unreal."
She grinned. "Couldn't keep up, Herc? No surprises there."
"You try throwing yourself into that panic fest, I dare you."
"If the opportunity ever arises again, I'll take you up on that."
"No!" She jumped as he unexpectedly threw his arms around her midsection. Blessedly, he didn't seem to notice, having already moved on. "You live in PARIS, OF COURSE this'll happen again! I take back the dare, I don't want to have to clean you up off the pavement -"
She snorted and lifted a hand to pat Monsieur Drame on the arm, but stopped short when she heard another laugh, light and feminine, coming from her left. "We got stuck in the shoe store," Kim had said. Who was in the room with them? Ignoring the pleas that Kim was pressing into her spine ("Remember Mufasa, Al! Don't! Be! Mufasa!"), she disentangled herself and turned towards the sound.
"H-hello? Who's there?"
"Hello," a cheerful voice greeted her. "Alix, was it? My name is Sabine."
Kim crawled around to her side. "She's Marinette's mom."
Mme. Cheng. Huh. Alix could recall a nice, pretty woman, almost (almost) as short as her. She'd been to the bakery before, of course - every one of her classmates had, with the possible exception of Chloe - but could conjure only a vague picture of the woman in her mind. M. Dupain, she supposed, made a bigger impression.
"I take it," continued Mme. Cheng when the silence had been drawn out for too long, "that you are also one of Marinette's classmates? Kim was just telling me -" Kim, unaccountably, stiffened beside her "- about some of my daughter's more...interesting habits. I hear she's not much for time-keeping. As for her crush on that sweet Adrien boy, I already know, Kim, but I would love to hear more."
Ignoring the woman's mischievous tone and what was sure to be a very enthusiastic response from Kim (who Alix knew was on par with Alya in terms of sheer gossip instinct), Alix took the opportunity to prod along her left leg, which was still pulsating with pain. Had she twisted it? No - no, that was definitely a break. Her stomach lurched as she trailed her fingers tenderly over the small but disproportionately unpleasant jut of bone beneath her skin.
Paris, predictably, was under attack. This time, from some B-rank architect who'd gotten sick of the disrespect that their ideas had received in review with their clients (that is, if Alya's hurried reports were accurate). The akuma had sent its victim into a productive frenzy of sorts, drawing up new blueprints at an incredible clip.
Alix had been in the deserted library, reluctantly working on a project for her science class. She had heard that Ladybug and Chat Noir were battling l'Architecte, a young woman by the civilian name of Jaquette Barre, in La Défense. The skyscrapers in the area had been turned into massive weapons, uprooted and altered in pursuit of l'Architecte's foremost goal - the capture or decimation of Paris' heroes.
Alix, armed with this knowledge, had made the ultimately faulty judgement call that a library within the residential areas of Paris' south side was far enough from the super-powered splash zone that it would be safe to go get some work done. As safe as anywhere in the city, anyway.
As Kim had said, this was Paris. Akuma attacks were, if not mundane, then certainly part of the city's norm. Some cities had consistently tardy public transportation, Paris had remotely-controlled superpowered civilians-turned-villains. A cross to bear - not pleasant, but comfortable in its regularity.
Homework still needed to be done, however, and Alix was about halfway through gathering information for her project when the screams from the street began to pierce the library's silent and studious atmosphere, alerting its few patrons of what was very likely happening outside. They had all frozen where they stood, assuming the library's relative safety for the time being (and ready to run the second that safety was compromised).
Let's reiterate - old. Fucking. Hat.
They all stood like statues, barely thinking to breathe, when suddenly, with a great ripping crack, one side of the building lifted itself from its foundation, curling alarmingly upwards. The entire building began to roll in on itself, support beams splintering.
As one end of the building reared skyward, Alix and the library's other patrons tumbled down the sloping floors to the end of the library which was still on the ground. Having reached the bottom, Alix spat out a curse - the curl of the polished wooden floorboards was now so extreme that the bookcases - heavy wooden monuments that had not been moved in the century and a half that the library had stood there, laden with books and weighing literal tons - tilted and began gradually to fall, like enormous dominoes. There were no exits along this wall - the activity inside had flung the doors to the library open invitingly, but the doorway was now almost parallel to the ground and so high in the air that all Alix could see through its frame was blue sky.
She scrambled to her feet, heart pounding with an adrenaline rush the likes of which she had never experienced, even during what she could remember of her brief thrillride as Timebreaker.
"In the aisles!" she cried, beginning to run - the other patrons, cottoning on, ran too - some, like Alix, to the center aisle, and some to the sides. Alix turned to watch - the bookshelves were falling faster now, tipping more quickly towards them - books were raining down onto their upturned heads. The head librarian, a sixty-something woman with a penchant for making people feel like they had loud bells attached to their ankles when they came in the front door, let out an offended gasp from next to her just before being hit in the face with a Tolstoy.
The library, thankfully, was mostly empty that day - the patrons and employees of the library all fit within the narrow aisles. Alix and an elderly man, both dodging books, leapt to help his wife totter to safety. They made it, but barely - Alix felt more than saw the last bookcase fall, skinning her heel and sending a great juddering thud rippling through her body.
They were trapped, now, between two great mountains of books and heavy oak. Behind her, the wall stood tenuous, plaster crumbling at the edges. Before her, the floor rose imposingly overhead, individual boards popped from their supports, jutting everywhere and displaying nails of time-dulled iron.
"Is everyone alright?" The old man next to her called out. Everyone in their aisle nodded, some more shakily than others. Repeating the question more loudly, they received a smattering of affirmation from the other two aisles as well. He turned to her and cocked an eyebrow.
She turned away, looking up. The door was still on the wall halfway up the building's curve. They were entirely removed in here, and while they were fortunate enough to have no pressing injuries, medical attention would be ideal, as would knowing what the hell was happening outside. Had l'Architecte moved on? Were Ladybug or Chat Noir still in the area? Would they be able to help, or would they be too busy with their foe? Obviously they hadn't defeated her yet, or the library would be back to normal - Alix thought it best to not count on having their help.
Or on having any help at all, honestly. The situation, if it remained exactly the same and did not worsen (which seemed a lot of confidence to place in luck, in Alix's opinion - too much), was not dire. The library's patrons could remain here comfortably enough for the time being, at least until Ladybug restored the city to order.
On the other hand, if things got worse in any unfathomable way, as they seemed likely to do, they'd be trapped here, not knowing what could come or even whether anyone from the outside knew of their predicament. It could only be assumed that l'Architecte had mutilated the library for a reason, though what that was she couldn't guess. Was it too much to hope that the action had moved elsewhere?
As if in answer, the building gave a great crack and, at the height of the floor's curl, snapped in two.
Everyone screamed and ducked - the half of the library that had broken away had taken most of the ceiling with it, and as it rolled away had pelted them with a generous dose of plaster, wood, and other leavings - when Alix dared look back up, it was to be met with the panicked eyes of the head librarian, peering out of a face so coated in plaster dust that she looked to be made of flour. Alix had no doubt that she herself was in much the same state.
She turned again to look at the elderly man, only to be confronted by an unpleasant streak of red marring his otherwise white-coated face. Swallowing a fierce wave of panic, Alix stumbled the few steps over to where he stood, swaying. A heavy chunk of debris had caught him and cut a decent gash in his head. He smiled weakly at her, and she sighed in relief.
Tis but a flesh wound, her mind supplied unhelpfully.
She squinted once more upwards, into what was now open air. "I'm going to get help," she told the old man, who looked confused, but nodded encouragingly. Turning to his wife, who looked shaken but otherwise okay, she continued - "Keep everybody calm, if you can. And keep an eye on him. I don't think he's supposed to fall asleep."
The woman said nothing, but smiled reassuringly at her and patted her arm. Taking a deep breath, Alix turned to the mountain of shelves stacked along the sloped floor, and began to climb.