You wanted Daddy Jagged Stone? Here! Take it!
Memory 5
Excuses, Excuses
By: Adrien Agreste
I've finally got a lead, M'Lady! I'm finally on the trail to figuring out why you've been losing your memories! Soon I'll know the significance of Tiger-Raptor! I will know how it all connects!
The key, LB, is none other than my Number One Fan: Marinette Dupain-Cheng!
I know it sounds crazy, but just read the evidence I've gathered and you'll see what I mean.
Party Crasher
This was the party of the century. At least that's what the news called it. Local fashion mogul/bazillionaire Gabriel Agreste (you may have heard of him) had taken a trip out of town and REDACTED his son Adrien Agreste was convinced by REDACTED his friend Nino (never met him) to throw a party. It started off innocently enough, only a few keys of cocaine and a private corner for Ladydoll to give lapdances, but it soon grew out of control. Word spread of the party and party animals flocked from across the city to join in. Everyone showed up! Andre Glacier! Fire Chief Cobra Commander! Luka! Salutations!
I was among those guests.
People were having a rocking time, blasting music loud enough to shatter the windows (Nino said that was mandatory for all parties), eating everything in my famiREDACTED the Agreste mansion's many five-star restaurants, and swimming in REDACTED Adrien's bathtub! My friend Kim (never met him) was doing that last one. He parties hard but weird. However, as I made my graceful entrance to the shindig, I noticed a severe lack of girls. Ladydoll was technically the only female there and her hydraulic hips were short-circuiting from all the entertainment she had to provide on her own. As the REDACTED celebrity guest, I offered to hire more hookers, but Nino was strangely firm about no women being allowed at all. Something about wanting to give Alya "a taste of her own medicine," as he put it (I later found out he was livestreaming the entire event to his own blog and Alya lost some serious views).
Here's where it gets interesting.
A new party guest arrived: a mustachioed Korean boy by the name of Mario. Everyone except me seemed to recognize this guy, welcoming Mario as if he was a long lost friend. I admit there was something about this Mario that was familiar (and his shapely butt was filling me with some other emotions that are weird and deeply confusing) but I couldn't put my paw on it until I suggested Ladydoll give him a lapdance. It did not end well. Around the part when Ladydoll was grinding her gyroscope in Mario's face, the boy freaked out and shoved Ladydoll away. The action pushed off Mario's glasses, motorcycle helmet, and mustache! Mario wasn't Mario at all!
It was… wait for it… Marinette!
I've got your attention now, don't I, Bugaboo?
That's right, Marinette had snuck her way into REDACTED Adrien's party. Of course, I didn't know how she was involved in your memory loss at this point and went to welcome my Number One Fan with a hug. But before I could, a second unexpected guest stormed in! It was Party Crasher, a boogie-dancing Akuma with disco balls for hands! As silly as this sounds, Party Crasher was the toughest Akuma we had to face. Anything he touched with his disco balls was instantly captured in their glassy squares. He caught you within the first minute of the fight. Even the sudden appearance of Pegasus, Carapace, and Viperion (Salutations!) wasn't enough. We fought valiantly to save you, M'Lady, but we were all captured!
I would describe being stuck in a disco ball as… funky. We were all squeezed tightly together like a can of sardines, surrounded by dancing music. The entire party had been taken prisoner (except Marinette (keep that in mind))! I'd thought we had finally lost to Hawkmoth when all of the sudden we were free! Party Crasher's disco balls were strewn across the cobblestone and the Akuma himself was freaking out, fleeing from things no one else could see (rainbow T-Rex's, sentient jack-in-the-boxes, and a whole lot of bananas). Standing over the traumatized villain was a new hero: King Monkey! Thanks to him, we barely escaped with our Miraculouses.
You put everything back together and de-evilized Party Crasher, who turned out to be that stalker who won Friendship Day and spent the 7 minutes he won smelling REDACTED Adrien's hair. Somehow, King Monkey's special ability Uproar drove him so insane that he's now… sane. He's got himself a part-time job at a local bank now. The plastic surgery he's had to look nearly identical to REDACTED Adrien is permanent but he's now an upstanding member of society who only stalks REDACTED Adrien on his days off.
Gamer
This is second-hand knowledge, but a boy named Max (never met him) had developed his own indie fighting game where players could choose from a roster of all the Akumas who had ever attacked Paris. It sounds cool at first, but Max did not take into consideration the severely repressed trauma this would trigger. This is the equivalent of creating an American fighting game where you get to play as the plotters of 9/11. Everyone he asked to beta-test his game who was once akumatized immediately accused him of being a war-profiteer. Everyone else, including mysREDACTED Adrien Agreste, called it horribly insensitive.
The rejections and criticisms were too much for Max and he was re-akumatized into Gamer! He created a great black pyramid in the city and immediately everyone who had ever been akumatized in the past vanished! They were magically taken to the pyramid where Gamer waited for us. The Akuma challenged us to a real-life version of Max's game. If we won, then he'd set everyone free.
You… were having a rough day, LB. You had a full schedule ahead of you, a lot of things to take care of, and wanted this fight to end as soon as possible. So, you ordered me to choose my copycat Cat Noir and use Cataclysm to destroy everything. While this would've solved our Akuma problem, I also knew it wouldn't give you the playtime you needed to forget about your worries. You sorely needed to have some fun, M'Lady, and I was going to give it to you. I tactfully ignored your order and accidentally used a cheat code to give Gamer's fighters extra health. The tournament dragged on for many rounds.
After a good thirty-minutes of shouting in my ear, you finally started to enjoy yourself. I think. You were still pretty pissed when we got to the final round. Gamer revealed that there was one final fight before we could face him.
You versus me!
Only the winner would battle Gamer. I trusted you'd beat him no matter what, Bugaboo. No one could defeat you. So, I heroically sacrificed myself and stepped off the battle platform.
At least, I tried.
You were still very pissed and lassoed me back up before I could hit the ground and proceeded to beat the everliving crap out of me. When you were satisfied, you chucked me out of the ring and I was digitized. What happened after that, I'm not entirely sure, but you did beat Gamer. I came back to consciousness to find Max de-akumatized, everyone returned to where they belonged, and a massive crater where the gaming pyramid used to be.
When I asked how that got there, you shakily pointed at your scorched ring finger then at my Miraculous Ring and muttered something about "powers combined" and "too powerful" and "nearly died." Whatever you had experienced it seemed to have pushed the impatience out of you, LB. You were perfectly fine with taking the day slowly and smelling the flowers.
And what happened then?
Well, Max got his beta-testers through Marinette's parents.
Seeing the pattern yet, M'Lady?
I did when I saw all of our old foes again. In almost every case, no matter how small, Marinette Dupain-Cheng is somehow involved. I've checked.
Puppeteer
At this point, Marinette was on my suspect list but I didn't know for sure if she had something to do with your memory loss. I also knew Marinette was close friends with Adrien Agreste (never met him), so I asked him to keep a close eye on her and report anything suspicious. The local wax museum was installing a new statue of Adrien because having a six-pack thick enough to be considered a lethal weapon is always a good reason to be immortalized. However, the museum staff needed Adrien to come in to get some repairs done on his statue. Alya, Nino, young Manon, and Marinette happened to tag along.
And let me tell you, LB. She was onto Adrien. The girl kept stealing suspicious glances at him cleverly disguised as the embarrassed stares of a girl hopelessly in love. Knowing for absolute certainty that Marinette only liked Adrien as a friend—Whoa, sorry, my hand slipped. I thought I heard someone cry out as if they were having a heart attack. Don't worry it was nothing. Anyway, Adrien didn't fall for Marinette's ruse and kept trying to get some alone time with her and uncover what she was hiding.
This espionage culminated in Adrien disguising himself as himself. His statue self. He posed among the wax celebrities outside the bathroom, waiting for Marinette to come out and let something slip.
It failed.
Marinette instantly saw through Adrien's disguise and tried to make him blink first by pretending she totally wanted to bang him. I'm talking about grinding her body against REDACTED him as she whispered sweet nothings about keeping REDACTED him in a cage in her bedroom, plucking a hair from REDACTED his head and stowing it in her purse for "later," slipping hands up REDACTED his shirt and down REDACTED his pants, planting warm, soft kisses along REDACTED his cheeks, and fingered my REDACTEDREDACTEDREDACTED bacon grease REDACTEDREDACTED keeping the lights on REDACTED lubed and salted REDACTEDREDACTEDREDACTEDREDACTED in REDACTEDREDACTED hairy rubber gloves REDACTEDREDACTEDREDACTED with a spoon. Wow, that got graphic. I didn't realize how seductive Marinette could be. Did my pants just shrink?
Sorry, I had to use the bathroom for unrelated reasons. Where was I? Oh right!
Marinette's femme fatale ploy was good but Adrien wasn't about to break, he was a committed spy. That's when Marinette played her trump card. She pulled the Adrien statue into a passionate kiss and immediately dropped dead! Adrien couldn't stand by anymore and gave her mouth-to-mouth. She instantly sprang back to life! Playing possum! Another ploy! She is good, LB, really good. Marinette j'accused Adrien of being a sick prankster for pretending to be a statue and completely derailed his investigation by pretending to be a stuttering mess who was enamored with Adrien but couldn't bring herself to admit it. Of course, Adrien knew none of this was the case. Marinette was just trying to dodge getting caught.
That's when the Akuma attacked! Manon had been re-akumatized into Puppeteer and taken control of all the wax statues of our most dangerous Akuma opponents! Adrien got to safety and called me in with our super-secret cat phones! You arrived too, M'Lady, and we fought the wax army as best we could. Unfortunately, we got separated at one point and I ended up with the fake wax Ladybug. In retrospect, I should've been able to figure out that this statue wasn't you when it wordlessly pulled me into a kiss. The waxy taste of her lips and tongue probably should've been red flags. Also, her ass lacked the supple bounce and velvet squeezability of yours. However, I am nothing if not thorough and gave the imposter a full physical (and by physical I mean the time of her life).
I realized my mistake when the fake you's boobs came off. After concluding that this was not my fetish, I broke free and found the real you in the wax workshop… along with a living statue of me! That fake me didn't fool you for a second. When I got there, you were already snapping his neck. It was such a strange fighting move too. I could've sworn it looked like you were making out with him, but you assured me (multiple times and without me asking) that was not the case and you were not in any way turned on by a stone-cold silent, pun-free Chat Noir.
We turned our attention to Puppeteer, and with the clever employment of a broom, you knocked her out of the air and into the vat of bubbling wax.
The horrid screams of that melting child will haunt me for the rest of my life.
The day was saved and you put everything back together. Our work was done. Adrien, though, had one more task. He offered Marinette a ride home, making sure she didn't notice all the spy-cams in the vehicle. The girl was dedicated, still playing the hopelessly-in-love card. Adrien had no choice but to go along with it, apologizing for pretending to be a statue, accepting her apology, and promising not to press sexual harassment charges. It wasn't until they reached her place that things took a turn. I've included the most important clip from the car's spy-cam footage. Watch it, Bugaboo, and you'll see what I mean.
I now know for 100% sure that Marinette is involved with your memories. The specifics are still vague, but I won't rest until I figure out Marinette Dupain-Cheng's secret.
Love,
AdREDACTED
Chat Noir
With his telescopic binoculars, Luka watched Miss Dupain-Cheng lower the Young Master's latest letter and slip the thumb drive into her computer. A few seconds of booting up later, she saw herself through a fish-eye lens in the backseat of the Agreste limo. He knew what came next, he'd seen it several times.
"Yeah, pranks can be horrible. The girl I love hates them," the Young Master admitted to her.
Then Miss Dupain-Cheng's fists ripped open the car seat.
"The girl you… love…? You mean… Ladybug… right?" she asked through a forced smile.
"No, I'm talking about Kagami."
Then that beastly thing inhabiting Miss Dupain-Cheng lunged at the driver's seat and the video cut to static. A few seconds later, the picture came back with a cracked lens. The limo was now upside-down. Every inch was dusted with broken glass. Miss Dupain-Cheng and the Young Master were still strapped in their seats.
"Well… this is me." Miss Dupain-Cheng awkwardly unbuckled herself, fell flat on the limo's ceiling, and crawled out. "Wow, crazy accident, huh?" she excused. "It's like the limo was attacked by a tiger-raptor or something."
The Young Master's eyes widened. "...Tiger-raptor?"
The video ended there.
Luka sighed. The message had been censored and delivered as The Pink Devil requested. He knew he was helping and yet, for the first time in his life of service, it didn't bring him any pleasure.
There was a rustle of leaves and the snap of wood.
"For fuck's sake! Why can't I get outta this bloody country?!" demanded a British voice. "Oy, kid, get me down!"
The voice came from a man dangling on a tree branch close to Luka. He was tangled in a parachute painted to look like the Union Jack. On the horizon, a private jet careened in a ball of fire. The man was Jagged Stone.
"Papa?"
"It's pronounced Jagged, ya bloody wanker. Hold on, what's a kid doing in a tree?" Jagged followed the direction Luka's binoculars pointed and saw Marinette's open window. A mischievous grin grew on his face. "Is that Marinette's place? Ahhh, off for a little looky-loo, eh? A little tug-and-rub, eh? You really are a wanker."
Luka, who's programming was limited to Frenglish slang, was completely lost. "Pardon?"
"Don't be daft, kid, you fancy that girl, don't ya?"
"Indeed, Papa Jagged, I came to that conclusion not too long ago," Luka said pleasantly. "And after I made my intentions clear, Miss Dupain-Cheng informed me she needed to time 'not know,' as it were."
Both Luka and his papa who didn't know he was his papa then saw the Young Master in his leather getup flip through the air and land on Miss Dupain-Cheng's balcony. He and the Miss then engaged in a heated conversation, no doubt about the letter Luka had delivered.
"Ya sure about that?" Jagged asked, starting to feel bad for the boy.
"Absolutely," Luka answered with confidence.
The Young Master then scooped Miss Dupain-Cheng in his arms and twirled. He looked rather relieved. Miss Dupain-Cheng's face was the picture of annoyed, but she wasn't trying to make him let go. If anything, she was holding him tightly and suppressing a smile. Luka winced at the obvious close moment they were sharing and started untangling his papa. For a reason Jagged Stone could not understand, he was overcome with an almost paternal need to comfort this complete stranger. Maybe it was because he reminded Jagged of a younger him or maybe it was because he was high off his ass. Whatever the reason, the man patted the boy's shoulder.
"Hey, don't let it get you down, mate," Jagged said. "Love is tough, but love is the only thing worth fighting for." Jagged nodded sagely at his own words. "Love and cocaine."
Luka smiled. "You really are an extraordinary man, Papa Jagged. You've not only been trapped in Paris for nearly a year, but you've also nearly lost your British citizenship. And even if people say to you, 'you're stuck in this country forever, the only woman who ever loved you doesn't want to be near you, stop bringing that crocodile into the dog park!' you always keep trying, believing everything is going to work out. How do you do it?"
The question made Jagged chuckle to himself. "That's an easy one, mate. I'll tell you me secret." The chuckling stopped on a dime and Jagged's pleasant grin dropped to a scowl that teetered on the brink of madness. "I lie to myself," he whispered, dead inside. "Every morning when I wake up, I say everything is going to be okay, but I'm lying."
Luka blinked. "Oh..."
Jagged slammed his other hand on the boy's shoulder and peered deeply into his face with fear. "And I don't know how much longer I can do it. AAH! Oh no, reality is clawing its way in! NO! AAAAAAH! I've wasted me life! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
Up in Marinette's Room:
"Wow, Princess, I can't believe Ladybug told you about the tiger-raptor. That explains everything," Chat Noir said in relief as Jagged Stone's screams continued in the background. "It's a good thing too because I was coming here ready to torture the answer out of you." He gestured sheepishly at his instruments of enhanced interrogation which consisted of a bouquet of roses, a heart-shaped box of chocolates, and a teddy bear wearing a t-shirt that said I Love You.
Marinette blinked and blushed a little. "Uhhh… torture?"
"Oh yeah, this chocolate is filled with laxatives, the rose thorns are laced with a paralyzing nerve agent, and this little guy was washed with extra-starchy soap. His hugs are very stiff."
"Right… Is someone screaming?"
Outside:
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
"Papa, are you all right?"
"Just an introspective moment. Hold on." Jagged Stone poured a line of cocaine on the nearest branch and snorted it up. With a pained squeak, his pleasant grin returned. "There we go. Back to numb. Right as rain. Did me talk help, mate?"
The boy nodded. "Yes, Papa. It did." He gazed lovingly at the window where Miss Dupain-Cheng and the Young Master were already watching a movie. "I need to lie to myself."
"Yeah, you got it, mate." Jagged clapped the boy on the back. "And I'll show you how."
END
Insert ominous hint that Chat Blanc is next here.
