If someone had told Marinette a month ago that she was destined to be chosen by the kwami of bad luck and become a superhero, she would've laughed in their faces and then ran; ran far and fast. Because, really, who in their right mind would pick her, plain-old clumsy Marinette, to be a hero?
Plagg, that's who.
That in itself wasn't very motivational. Plagg was…quite the character. He was spunky, overly dramatic, a bit selfish, sneaky, and apparently had a suave streak when it suited him, but if Marinette had to choose one word to describe the kwami of bad luck it would be 'cheese.' Seriously. The little cat was absolutely obsessed with the stuff and his favorite was camembert, of all things. And he didn't like the cheap stuff, either; oh, no, he liked the prime quality, cream of the crop camembert that was too expensive for Marinette to even consider buying with any regularity. Could've been worse though. If he had requested something like, oh, say, pule instead, she probably would have promptly dropped the kwami off her balcony. If he was going to demand those kinds of luxuries then he could just run along and find himself a wealthy host, thank you very much.
Luckily for her, however, Plagg was also kind, and when Marinette had explained that camembert was a bit too expensive for her, he had patted her on the nose and told her she needn't worry too much. He would be happy with almost any kind of cheese… As long as he got it regularly. Fortunately, being the daughter of bakers, she was in a good position to deliver. She was already working on her pitch to convince her parents to start making more cheese bread.
One thing was for sure: life had definitely gotten more interesting since Plagg turned up with the magical stone that could transform her into Chat Noire. He had given her a basic rundown on how things were going to work, but mostly she was expected to figure things out on her own. Though he had been particularly careful to warn her that the transformation had a way of leaving an imprint on the host even when not in costume. One of the side-effects of having your mind being co-inhabited from time to time and all that. She didn't quite understand what he meant until she nearly pounced on a pigeon that had landed on her balcony and Plagg had idly commented that her form needed some work because she was never going to catch one like that.
Good thing Alya was on vacation with her family because Marinette had no idea how she was going to hide her new feline tendencies from her best friend. She was already struggling to hide them from her parents who still didn't understand where all the milk from the fridge had disappeared to (her and Plagg's stomachs) or why a decoration Sabine had hanging from the ceiling had suddenly 'fallen' after never having so much as wobbled in five years. It certainty wasn't because Marinette, in a moment of what could only be described as utter insanity, had smacked it back and forth a few times.
So not only did she have to start defeating these things called akumas soon, she also had to manage her inner kitty and 'find the lucky bug,' whatever that meant. She'd tried asking Plagg to clarify but he'd responded tiredly that he couldn't remember what the word was in her language and promptly fell asleep thereafter and by morning she had forgotten.
She found out a few days later when she'd witnessed a boy in a black suit with a distinctive ladybug-esque pattern on the back of his torso and arms take down the Piper. Lucky bug. Of course. Marinette felt bad for not helping him. It was her duty, too, after all, but she'd been so caught up trying to not get found out by her parents that she sort of…well… forgot to actually go out and figure out how to be Chat Noire. Plagg certainly hadn't been prompting her, either.
That evening, she had sat with her parents in the living room and watched the news coverage of the attack. She studied the pictures and watched them replay the fight, noting (along with the reporter) the kindness he displayed for his former foe. The adults commented on the bizarreness of the whole thing and then Sabine said how grateful she was that Marinette hadn't been anywhere near there today. Marinette's face burnt hot with shame. Oh, maman, if you only knew.
Afterwards, both she and Plagg agreed: it was time for her to get her tail in gear. She needed to be ready the next time an akuma attacked. She really wished she could get ahold of the bug boy but Plagg told her that wouldn't be possible until they met. That night was a no-go but the following night, after her parents had gone to bed, she had transformed and set out to roam Paris. The rooftops were safest for her, away from things like pedestrians with cellphones and traffic, and she quickly found herself right at home on the uneven terrain.
Chat Noire could do things Marinette couldn't. She'd noticed her agility had increased in her normal life but she was still unprepared for the full extent of the changes. She was running faster than she ever had in her life, her feet barely skimming the ground. She could jump like never before; twist, twirl, and flip over obstacles with the grace and precision of a cat. Without even meaning to, she'd discovered that loping on all-fours was not only possible, but comfortable and convenient—it gave her a speed boost, too. Even cooler, though, were her senses. Sounds were clearer, scents were sharper, and not only could she see perfectly in the dark, but she could still see in full color, something she knew cats couldn't do.
Then she'd gotten scared to death by a certain winged boy and realized that as Chat, she also reacted like a startled cat.
Apart from his penchant for puns, he seemed alright. She hadn't missed the enthusiasm in his expression and the excited gleam in his eyes as they spoke. He was just as pleased to meet her as she was him. When she'd gotten home, Plagg had whirled around her room with a pleased little smile on his face and was still doing it when she returned with a glass of milk and a plate of cheese for him.
"What's got you so excited? Did you find my stash of catnip?" she teased. She actually had no stash, as such, but she figured the mention of the plant might be enough to get his attention at least. Apparently not.
"Tikki!" he crowed in delight, twirling in circles as he floated over to her.
"Tikki?" Marinette cocked her head to the side as he plucked a piece of cheese from the plate. "What's tikki?"
"Who. Tikki is a who," Plagg explained before sinking his teeth into the cheese.
Tikki wasn't any sort of name Marinette knew so she was quite certain he wasn't referring to the boy who was Ladybug. Which could only mean… "His kwami? You know them?"
Plagg nodded. "Oh yeah. She and I go waaay back," he said around a mouthful of cheese.
"What's she like?" Marinette asked curiously. Were all kwami the same as Plagg or were they as different as people could be?
Plagg thought about it for a moment and took another bite of cheese, chewing slowly. Then he shrugged his tiny shoulders. "She's Tikki."
"Oh, come on. You've got to give me more than that." Marinette sat down in the chair at her desk, setting the plate near her keyboard, and took a sip of milk.
Plagg shrugged again. "I don't know what you want me to say, kid. Tikki's just Tikki."
"What's her personality like?"
He pondered that while taking another two bites of cheese. "I'm bad luck," he said slowly and took another bite. "She's good luck. She's everything I'm not. She's gentle, she's…coddling. 'Nurturing' is the word she'd use. She loves her Ladybugs, for better or worse."
"And do you?" Marinette asked, suddenly feeling very small.
Plagg gave her a long look, his feline face completely unreadable, and then he sighed. "I don't look for the same things that she does in people when I choose them. Some of them aren't exactly loveable." He took another bite of cheese and Marinette's heart sank. "But you, Marinette—you're going to be a great Chat. I can tell already."
She tried not to be offended by that because it wasn't actually an insult, but all the same… "What," Marinette said slowly, "do you look for in the people you pick?"
He grinned slyly. "Access to cheese." When Marinette sputtered, the tiny kwami threw back his head and laughed. He tossed the rest of cheese in his mouth and swallowed without chewing. Then he flew up to Marinette's face and gave her a genuine smile. "I look for the people with cats in their souls. My cats are clever, witty, wily, brave. Selfish and selfless—there's a fine balance between the two. I look for resourcefulness. Your unlucky power," he nibbled on a corner of the cheese, "Well, I'm not quite sure what it's going to manifest as for you just yet, but you'll find it requires you to think quickly and creatively." He patted the top of her head as if she were a feline. "We kwami don't choose our humans lightly. You're worthy of your claws."
Marinette was sure her face was beet red by the time he finished and she took a drink of milk to avoid having to saying anything for the moment. Plagg drifted away from her and folded his arms, the ghost of a smile hidden by the last of the camambert. "But I wasn't kidding about the access to cheese thing."
Air rushed out of her nose in a quiet laugh. She picked the plate up from her desk and held it out to him. You're worthy of your claws. While she wasn't sure what being chosen by the kwami of bad luck said about her or her character, she knew praise when she heard it.
"By the way, Plagg?"
"Hmm?"
"I was wondering…my costume. Is it the same thing for each Chat?"
The kwami shook his head. "I change it to suit the times, the place, and the cat. Why?"
"Because I'd like to make a few changes."
"You what?"
Plagg was not used to having his chosen complain about their uniform. Apart from minor changes in response to extenuating circumstances in the past, what the cat got is what the cat got. Marinette, however, was a force to be reckoned with, and the kwami was entirely unprepared or equipped to handle such situations. Let it not be said that Plagg didn't put up a fight, because he did; oh, he did, and in true feline fashion. But Marinette was a girl on a mission. Armed with her sketchpad, finest pencils, and an entire disc of camembert, the young designer was about to knock Plagg's socks off. If he had any socks, that was. She should design him some for moments like this.
The next day, she used her phone to get pictures of herself as Chat Noire from almost every angle, then copied down what she saw diligently onto the pages. From there it was just a matter of finding something she liked. She drew dozens of sketches, each of them different from the last. Some were disregarded immediately, some took a little longer before she dismissed them, others she marked for further consideration. Plagg hovered overhead, munching on the morsel he'd received for cooperating, and watched Marinette go to town.
After about an hour of this, the kwami began to give input. No, no, that's terrible. I'm not making that. Really, kid—you do remember you are la chat noire, right? Oooh, that's good… Pffffffffffff, do you really expect to do fancy maneuvers with that?
After a particularly scathing remark about a belt design she had (which, in her mind, had been practical, and a good way to secure the yo-yo she would be fighting with) Marinette turned her glare onto the kwami, eyes full of blue fire and a growl deep in her throat. Plagg's whiskers twitched, noting the threat in her body language, and heaved a sigh, his shoulders slumping forward.
Plagg floated down and grabbed hold of her pencil. She let him take it and watched as he flipped it over, carefully erased the belt, and began to draw something in its place. "It's too much baggage," he groused. "Your tail is necessary for balance and it can be quite an effective tool. But it's behind you and you have control over it but that ridiculous addition would restrict your movement. Could even tangle your legs. I cannot—will not let you fight in something that could get you hurt. Or worse. Honestly, what do you take me for—"
Marinette smiled to herself as the kwami continued to rant and draw. It was good to have him on board and to know that he really did care. And, interestingly enough, he seemed to know what he was doing. Maybe one of his previous cats had been an artist?
Plagg set the pencil down and drifted back, arms folded. "There," he announced. "Much better."
The belt, if drawn to scale, would be about an inch and a half wide. It was simple, thick enough for her tail to stem from, and would be sturdy enough to hold the yo-yo. The original costume had a small holster hanging off the side for it to lock into but Marinette didn't like the idea of having to worry about pulling it out of something mid-battle. It would be able to hook securely on the belt with a simple clasp.
Marinette frowned, tongue poking out in concentration as she examined the belt, then erased the tiny bell he'd drawn where a buckle should be. "No bells. I can't be jingling everywhere in battle."
"It wouldn't have to jingle."
"No. Bells."
Plagg sniffed. "You have no sense of style."
Marinette tried to veto the leather next but Plagg immediately dismissed her concerns as it wasn't really leather at all. Her suit was made out of the same substance as Ladybug's; she'd be able to tell if she looked up close, but it was styled to look like leather, a choice the kwami was sticking with. The tail, though, he was willing to work with, when she told him between giggles that she liked the idea of having a soft or fluffy tail. She made a few other minor tweaks—the bulky wrists of her gloves would have to go and if he insisted on making her wear boots then they would be skintight. She was not about to go traipsing around in those thick things when she could get just as good protection without them being prominent. When she mentioned it would make the whole design seem sleeker, like a cat, she managed to win Plagg's support.
In the end, the whole outfit was one big compromise. There were just certain things Plagg refused to do on principle and she certainly didn't get an explanation like she had for the belt. Mostly he just gorged himself on cheese, earning a new piece every time he gave in to something she really wanted.
She sketched out the finished design from all four sides then gave it a flat color with minimal shading to emphasize shapes and sizes. When it was finished, she presented it to Plagg who took a few minutes to memorize it. There was still a quarter of the camembert left and she wouldn't give it to him if he didn't get this right. She'd promised. When the kwami was satisfied he could pull it off, he gave Marinette the go-ahead to transform. Then she stood in front of the mirror to examine herself.
Her hairstyle and length were the only thing that remained entirely unchanged. She liked how it hid her human ears, concealing her miraculous and enhancing the cat aesthetic. Her tail was a bit thicker than it had been before and resembled velvet. Her gloves and boots were skintight, the former tipped with small, razor-sharp claws that could shred paper in a single swipe (she may or may not have gleefully checked) and were strong enough to handle her weight. Her cat ears were a bit smaller and now had pink on the insides, the same shade as the paw prints on her earrings and the collar around her neck. Her yo-yo, which had previously been solid black, now had a pink paw print identical to the one on her earrings stamped onto it. The bow on her collar was smaller, too, part of the collar rather than attached to it, and had three jewels set vertically down the middle.
Her original suit hugged her frame, to the point where she'd been self-conscious. She was already anticipating backlash for running around in a literal catsuit and she didn't want to give the creeps of the world anything to use against her. The new suit still hugged her frame but now it included a small, stretchy skirt beneath her belt, that fell to her mid-thighs and made her feel a little better about the whole thing. To her surprise, it hadn't been difficult at all to win Plagg over—in fact, it had been the thing that had taken the least amount of effort, and when she'd expressed her surprise, the kwami simply informed her that he was used to varying levels of modesty in his cats, and that at least she wasn't wanting a petticoat.
The newly re-designed Chat Noire pranced around her room, jumped from her floor to the loft bed then back down, climbed the ladder, and did a few somersaults, just to get an idea of how the suit felt on her and what it'd be like out there. All together, she was pleased—right up until she heard her mother approaching and she barely had a chance to gasp before Plagg rocketed out of her ring and made a beeline for her loft. The green light had just finished passing over her body when Sabine opened the trap door. Marinette was able to deflect her concerns with a few words and a cute smile and her mother departed with a fond shake of her head.
Marinette and Plagg waited in silence for a solid ten seconds after before her kwami let out a tiny, "Whew," and flew out into the open. "At least you have your own room. I've had cats whose families lived in the same room!"
She winced. That couldn't have been easy on either of them. She wondered how long they'd kept it a secret before someone found out. She was having trouble enough as it was, but to have no privacy like that? She couldn't imagine living normally like that, never mind with a kwami and alter ego.
She and Ladybug had agreed to meet that night on the roof of the Lourve at the highest point across from the entrance to the pyramid. It was very public, yeah, but neither of them was sure they could find the rooftop they'd met on again and anything that wasn't well known might not have been easy for the other to find. The Lourve was close enough for them both to consider it convenient. They could come up with a better place to rendezvous later once they got things figured out.
Thinking about Ladybug sent a strange thrill through her. Not because he was handsome—though he might have been, but he was more 'cute' to her with those round cheeks of his and that long messy hair—but because he was…he was…himself, if that made sense. She'd spent days since Plagg's arrival fretting over the whole thing and struggling to get a hand on those pesky feline tendencies (she could control them, she knew she could, she was just reeling from the unfamiliarity). Last night aside, she hadn't had much chance to really appreciate or even enjoy this new aspect of her life. But now there was someone else who could understand.
She didn't know much about ladybugs so she wondered what could've possibly been imprinted on him. Well, other than the wings.
Chat Noire was the first one to arrive at their meeting place just ten minutes shy of midnight according to the face of a clock she could see from her perch. Rather than wait out in plain sight, she slid down the slope of the dome on the opposite side of the pyramid, settling down in the shadows to wait. She kept her eyes trained upwards, fully expecting him to come in from the air and alight on the highest point until he spotted her. To her surprise, just as it was turning midnight, she heard footsteps approaching, audible only due to her heightened hearing.
She turned her head towards the noise and saw Ladybug, in all his red and black glory, walking towards her. She raised her hand in greeting and he jumped a little in surprise, apparently not having noticed her until she moved. Nonetheless, a grin spread across his face. "Bonsoir, minou!"
"Bonsoir, Bug," she greeted in reply. She'd considered calling him 'cocinelle' but she wasn't sure if he would like that or not. 'Bug' was English but it was safely gender neutral and he already seemed to have decided that he wanted to use the English name for the beetle.
"You're early," he noted, slowly slinking toward her. She rolled her eyes.
Chat Noire got to her feet and moved out into the light so he would be able to see her. "I wasn't sure how long it'd take me to get here this way. Not as long as I'd thought, obviously."
But Ladybug didn't seem to be paying attention to her words. He'd stopped just a few feet shy of her and was looking her up and down. "You look…different."
Chat grinned. "Oh, yeah! You like it?" She turned in a slow circle, showing off her new outfit. "I was a bit 'eh' about the last one and I convinced my kwami to change things up. We worked all day on this."
"It looks great!" He agreed enthusiastically then looked down at himself. "I didn't know we could do that…."
"Well, if yours is anything like mine, you better have plenty of bribes. It took an entire thing of camembert, Bug," she said seriously. "The good stuff."
Ladybug laughed. "Wow. She doesn't ask for much."
"She—oh, no. He. Plagg's a 'he'. Oh, I almost forgot, he wanted me to pass on a hello to your kwami. Apparently they know each other."
"Really?" His eyes widened. "Hey, I have an idea. Why don't we let them say hello face to face?"
"But we'd have to de-transform…"
"Yeah."
"I—I…" Chat stammered, taking a step back. Ladybug noticed her uneasiness immediately.
"Are you not okay with that?"
"No," she said. "I'm not. I'm sorry, but, I don't feel comfortable with showing my—my civilian self, I guess. This is too new and it could be dangerous if we know who each other is behind the masks. I mean, what if something goes wrong? I'm not saying I think you'd betray me, but this Hawkmoth guy, he can control people's minds, can't he? What if—"
"Okay, okay, I get it," he shushed her, disappointed but not angry. "You're right. Maybe they can meet some other time, then."
"Maybe," she agreed quietly. She could see the discontent linger on the boy's face for a few moments longer (but, really, this was for the best), but it was gone in a flash as he effortlessly perked up.
"So, what are we gonna do tonight?" Ladybug asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
"I'm not sure," Chat admitted with a laugh, rubbing the back of his head. "I was hoping you had an idea."
"Aaah…. We didn't really plan this out, did we?"
"Oops?"
The teenagers giggled at their own folly and Chat Noire flicked her tail in amusement. "What if…we just went for a run?"
"A run." He cocked his head to the side. "You mean topside, right?"
She grinned impishly. "Of course. Or you could always fly, it's up to you."
"Well, I can't just…fly." Ladybug said. He turned, presenting her his back, and she realized the red-tinted wings he'd bore before were absent. "I have to actually bring them out but when I do, it drains a lot of power, so I can't keep them out long before I have to change back."
"Oh!" she gasped, suddenly excited. "So, that's your power? That's so neat!"
He nodded enthusiastically and spun around. "What's yours?" he asked eagerly. "You're supposed to be bad luck, right?"
"The black cat of bad luck, that's me. Except, there's just one tiny little problem." Chat Noire rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. "I don't exactly—I haven't tried it out yet."
Ladybug's eyes widened and he pursed his lips. "We gotta find out."
Which was why, fifteen minutes later, the two heroes found themselves in a condemned building in a less friendly part of Paris. If they were going to start messing around with a manifestation of bad luck they needed to not be around people or occupied buildings. Moonlight spilled through a broken window in the ceiling and Chat Noire stood in the middle of it while Ladybug waited a safe five feet away.
Plagg decided to be useful (for once) and whispered instructions in her mind on how to call forth her power for the first time. Energy rushed through her, starting at her earrings and travelling down her shoulders and arms before manifesting in her palms as energy. It rippled and crackled and as she brought her hands together, the power flared out, forming a ball of black, purple-accented energy about the size of a cricket ball. She rotated her hands around the sphere, watching it ebb and swell. When she pulled her hands apart, the sphere remained above her dominant one.
A laugh as dark as the power she held bubbled past her lips and she grinned up at Ladybug. He, too, seemed enraptured by the power she wielded. "This. Is. So. Cool."
"Yeah, but what does it do?" Ladybug shifted his weight from foot to foot in anticipation.
Oooooh, Plagg whispered in her mind. Interesting. You inflict bad luck.
Chat Noire blinked. What was that supposed to mean? She glanced down at her palm, at the bad luck. "It's bad luck." She held out her hand. "This is actually bad luck, right here."
His eyes widened and he took an automatic step back. "Lucky bug here. Keep that away from me."
Chat Noire looked around the room. Bad luck in the palm of my hand. She could pass this on to anything, maybe anyone, and chaos would ensue. She could press it to the floor or the walls or the beams… Part of her found the prospective damage and mayhem alluring. That would be Plagg's influence, she decided, because Marinette certainly didn't consider such things to be particularly entertaining. Nevertheless, the urge was there. Her eyes flicked around the room, noting with interest that some thing seemed to gleam purple like the energy in her hand. All she had to do was…was touch something…
"Minou?"
Chat Noire blinked, shaking her head quickly, and a haze she hadn't even been aware of around her vision cleared. "Oh, wow," she whispered. Ladybug watched her with concern. "I'm…I'm okay…." She spotted an empty wine bottle a few feet behind Ladybug and pointed at it with her empty hand. "Bug, that bottle behind you. Bring it here."
He turned around, searching in the dark, then went to fetch it for her. He tossed it through the air and she caught it with her free hand. "What are you going to do?"
"If I'm right," Chat Noire gave the bad luck one final, long look. "Make this the unluckiest bottle in the world."
Before she could talk herself out of it (such a waste, a bottle, she could do so much more than a bottle), she pressed her hands together. The dark power seeped into the innocuous glass, turning it solid black with a faint purple glow around it.
Chat Noire sucked in a sharp breath. Her arms suddenly felt ten times lighter, an intense pressure within in her chest suddenly dissipating.
"Are you okay?" Ladybug took one step towards her, then another, concern written all over his face.
"That was…"
"You shouldn't hold onto it like that. You looked like…" He trailed off, at a loss on how to describe what he'd seen.
"I know, I felt it." Chat Noire held up the bottle and put her free hand on her hip. "It's gone now—ah, ah, ah! Don't touch it! This thing is so unlucky right now, it'd probably break and hurt you."
"Wait. Hold on. Let me see if I got this right. You made a ball of literal bad luck appear in your hand and then you transferred it all to that bottle, making it unlucky?"
"Pretty much."
"That's…awesome." Ladybug grinned darkly. "We are going to kick some serious butt, you and me."
Chat Noire felt her tail lash from side to side at the prospect. "We should meet again tomorrow night, if that's alright with you. We need to learn how to fight. I mean, I know you can fight—those were some pretty good moves with your staff the other day—but I'm still not entirely sure how what I can do is going to fit in with that."
He cocked his head to the side. "What's wrong with tonight?"
For an answer, Chat's earrings let out a warning beep. The first of five before she would de-transform. Ladybug scowled. "Oh. Right."
"We should go now," Chat Noire suggested. "I'd like to not be here when I turn back to normal."
Ladybug tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Do you live very far from here?"
"Um…kind of. Why?"
"What about the Lourve? Do you live far from there? I mean, if I were to get you back to the museum, could you make it home safely from there as yourself?"
Chat Noire nodded. It would take a bit of time on foot. She'd have better luck buying cheese nearby and letting Plagg recharge then going home that way.
"Okay then." Ladybug rolled his shoulders like he was steeling himself for something.
"What are you doing?"
The blonde boy winked at her. "Wings out!" Before she could process what he'd said, he threw his arms out wide and bright light flared behind him, bathing the room in red. Chat let out a tiny 'eep!' of surprise and jumped back, raising her free hand to shield her eyes. The light faded and she lowered her hand then gasped. Wings. His wings. They glowed faintly for a moment longer before the lingering light settled into a faint red hue around them.
Then what he'd said finally registered and the awe on her face melted into an unimpressed grimace. "'Wings out'? Seriously?"
"Yeah. I was thinking of 'spots on' as a transformation catchphrase. What do you think?"
"I think you're a dork."
"I'll take it!" Ladybug held out his arms. "And now, mon minou—Air Ladybug flight 1198, charter service from this room to the Lourve, now leaving from Terminal 6."
"Mon dieu," she muttered. "You're not serious."
"Hey, you got a better way to cover five kilometers in five minutes?"
She narrowed her eyes skeptically. "You can fly that fast?"
"Well, look at it this way: a ladybug can fly as fast as a race horse. Now how fast do you think someone my size can go if I floored it?"
Her jaw dropped but then her miraculous gave another warning beep and she realized she didn't have time to be picky about transportation methods. She walked towards him but before she could get close enough for him to pick her up, she remembered what was in her hand.
Right. Bad luck bottle. Uh…Plagg? What do I do with this?
Of course her kwami was silent. Chat groaned quietly and decided to just toss it across the room. After all, what harm could a little bottle do…right?
…
Twenty seconds later, the two Miraculous wielders were screaming at the top of their lungs as Ladybug flew them up and out of the building that was suddenly experiencing the worst bad luck it had ever known. Ladybug hovered thirty feet above the roof, both of them gawking down at the building, the second floor of which was quickly being acquainted with the first. Then Chat Noire's earrings beeped for a third time and snapped them both out of it.
"OH MY GOD, CHAT, YOU BROKE A BUILDING!"
"JUST FLY, YOU STUPID BUG!"
Unbeknownst to them, a lone pedestrian had seen the whole thing from across the street, looked at the bottle in his hand, and began to dump the rest of his drink onto the sidewalk.
