Why? Why him? Why, of all the possible choices for this, did it have to be him?
Nooroo shivered, not at all used to the human world's cool air. His glow faltered ever so slightly and he squeaked when dozens of white butterflies around him responded by whirling about. Of course, they were attracted to his power. This species of bug always was.
What little Nooroo didn't enjoy was the fact that he had been dragged out of his realm to prove it.
Who did this... Man think he was? This Gabriel, who seemed so ignorant to what kwami really were. Nooroo wasn't an idiot. He knew the intentions of his captor were anything but pure, unlike the champions they'd all been so well acquianted with back home.
Nooroo's chosen were heroes. They were kind, gentle, and often times leaders in their own right. While it was true that with enough practice any chosen could enhance their magic in personal ways, his chosen always fascinated him with their adapting natural talents of heading armies, showing strength through words, and bringing victories worthy of the title of champion. That's what made Nooroo proud to give magic to humans who seemed weak but could grow with the opportunity. They surprised him.
Gabriel Agreste didn't surprise him. The man reeked of evil, a darkness in his soul that struck fear. Nooroo could tell that without prior knowledge of the man's coming- or rather, the kwami's capture- the Tikki's chosen hero would have had no chance of survival. The girl was the only one that could stop this mess, with Plagg's hero not far behind.
The only possibly redeeming quality Nooroo had learned of Gabriel was his wish. "To bring back my wife," was all the man asked for, all the detail he would give, and all the kwami needed to know. He was curious to know why the woman left, though he wondered if had something to do with the malicious intent lurking within that cold exterior. No, her disappearance might have been what triggered it.
The theory gave Nooroo a plan.
"Have you finished deciding the deal?" asked Gabriel, walking into the room quietly. His face was stern and business-like. That was all the kwami's bargain was, an insignificant trade for unimaginable power.
Nooroo watched the butterflies float around helplessly. They would be the vessels, he knew. They would harbor magic and send it off to unsuspecting people, as opposed to people who knew and trusted a champion. "I suppose."
"Good gracious, boy! Can't you do anything right?"
Trays clattered onto the kitchen floor. The waiter nervously bent down to pick up the mess of unclean serving trays, their surfaces lined with oils, pieces of lettuce leaves stuck on by salad dressing, and other sauces he'd come into contact with time and time again.
The head chef was yelling at him, scolding him for messing up one of the orders, during the slowdown of customers. The young man had been picking up used dishes from finished tables and bringing them in to clean when the chef barged through screaming his name.
Fortunately for the lad, he had already set the dishes in the sink when he'd dropped the metal trays. It would have been much worse for him if any expensive plates or soup bowls had shattered from the fall.
"My apologies, sir! I-I'll make sure to remember the customer's order next time! P-Promise!"
"Promises, promises! You've made them all before and still you keep screwing up! I should fire you right here, right now for all the messes you've made! But I'll give you one more chance, boy! This time, don't forget the stupid order or your out of a job!" The veins on the older man's forehead were prominent and his face was beet red with rage.
The waiter nodded, knees wobbling as the chef growled one last time and left the room. Fear gripped him, but he still fell to the floor, ignored by coworkers who honestly wanted no part in the crossfire. The head chef was a terrifying man and wouldn't accept multiple failures lightly.
He trembled on the red tiles, holding his head and repeating to himself in whispers over and over, "You can't screw up. You have to remember. Stop forgetting, you idiot. You need this, please. I can't..."
Can't what? Hm? Handle the pressure? Remember your customer's orders? Stand your boss' demands when he doesn't understand you?
A gasp escaped his lips, eyes wide as he felt the soothing whisper in his mind. He paled slightly. "Who-?"
Am I? Well, I'm Hawkmoth. I'm here to help you. This head chef likes barking orders, doesn't he?
"Y-Yes."
Has he ever taken any from anyone else? Has he ever cared to hear your pleas? Has he ever stopped to consider that a loyal worker might not have the best memory on which order goes to which table?
"N... No. He hasn't."
Then show him. Show him what it's like to be on the receiving end. Tell him what to do for once, Order Up.
"Yes, Hawkmoth."
"No, Chat. I promise I'm fine."
Why did she have to go and mention the burn? Why did he have to remember her mentioning the burn? It was gone now, as far as she could tell from the loss of pain. It was nice to be able to walk without flinching. She regretted telling Chat about it.
"It's my fault you got it in the first place. If I hadn't been so stupid-"
"Quit blaming yourself, chaton. You didn't know any better and neither did I. Besides, I'm okay now," she reassured him as they hopped around Paris' rooftops. Everything was fine . Ladybug sensed the tension over the so-called 'monster' situation dissipating the more they traversed the city, as well as the whole resurrection issue from a few hours ago.
When dusk had finally settled in, so had the two heroes into their strange new partnership. Marinette didn't realize how much she had to explain to Chat until they had situated themselves on one of the rooftops near the Louvre. Apparently, Plagg didn't give a lot of details on his destruction magic.
"You know," Chat mentioned then, "Destruction magic sounds kind of lame."
"Then what would you rather call it?" Ladybug asked almost jokingly. She hadn't been expecting an answer.
"How does Cataclysm sound? Too on the nose?" He gave her a mischievous smile, a hopeful glimmer in his eyes as well.
She rolled her eyes but didn't hide her smile. "You're just full of puns, aren't you?"
"To the brim. Ears to tail," he guaranteed, twitching his ears and wagging his tail as he did. "But seriously, though, yes or no? I kinda like the idea now that I think about it more."
"As much as the pun hurts, I'm not gonna lie. It's fitting."
"Purr-fect then. What about you? Creation magic sounds like a mouthful too." He watched her tilt her head, tapping a finger to her bottom lip in thought. "Ladybugs are lucky, aren't they? How about something with luck?" He suggested, his left ear following her rhythm of thinking.
"Hm, luck, eh? Not a bad idea. Maybe... Lucky Charm?"
She seemed to be waiting for his confirmation and he let the name sit on his tongue, repeating it a few times until they were both making silly imitations of each other saying it. After a bit of laughing, he decided, "I think it's a great name. I mean, if you count a broom as a lucky charm, then that's fine by me."
"Let's see if I can bring it back, then we'll know if it works in getting rid of certain bad luck cats." She was about to summon her magic when screaming pierced the calm Paris had settled into. They both turned their heads towards the direction the sound came from. It didn't sound too far away from where they were.
"What was that?"
"I don't know but we better go find out."
