Author Notes: Future notes will be at the end, but I'd like to thank anybody still following me putting up with my fantastical B/S. I love you guys…and hope I still incite the most beautiful/crazy/dark imaginative fantasies within. Thank you…
Chapter Two: Astray
Nothing tasted more delectable than fear along the confines of his sinfully sensitive mouth. It almost gave him an enticing sense of electricity garnering heat along the core of his being. It was the closest he came, recently, to feeling alive in the true sense of the word.
Panic undulated along the air, pulsating in waves that tickled his abnormal senses, and his eyelids drooped, half closed. "Someone is in danger," he croaked, voice thick on the only emotion he had left to embrace. Feral excitement.
"Don't sound so happy," the cat ancient spat, words barely heeded as the blonde's increasingly dark eyes glinted with expectation.
"Claws out," he breathed softly, unabashed by the bright jade light flashing through the alley as the Kwami became absorbed by his ring.
Black leather erupted across his skin, but cracks of green decorated the once solid plane. Even his black mask held webs of emerald emanating from his metaphysical cat green eyes, glowing almost maliciously…shimmering with each beat of his heart.
His previous spiky hairstyle flowed into place, but atop his baton, a single yoyo sat holstered against his left hip. It was as bright as Ladybug's when he unsheathed it, but there were no Akumas to purify, and he only used it when he was desperate.
A twin set of daggers pressed against his outer thighs, the green stained blades glinting as he sauntered easily out of the alley. Several people nearby gawked at his immediate appearance, and his normally bright, goofy smile was morphed into a smirk decorated with the dark promises of pain, scattering the crowd.
"I love this part," he purred, the deep timbre of his voice reverberating along the open street.
I hate this part.
"Yeah? Well, nobody asked your opinion," he hissed, crouching down to all four, his muscles bunching beneath the rippling skin and leather before he shoved, flying through the air, or so it would seem.
***POV Change***
Her chest heaved as her boots scuffed in a trailing line across the rooftop, barely stopping a breath from the edge as she peered over.
"That was close," she admitted, swallowing around the cavernous wasteland of her dry mouth.
Mistress is overexerting herself.
"I don't have time to hold back, sorry," she breathed, the sound haggard, even as she toppled off the side of the building, throwing her left hand outwards. An intricate design of webs appeared, and she rolled in the air, body connecting with a cross section, bouncing easily like a giant trampoline.
The motion flung her back into the air, and the heroine lashed her right hand out expertly, glimmering pinpoints of light appearing in the shape of discs. The woman's feet touched the first platform, and it exploded in a shower of sparkling light, even as she hopped to the next, receiving the same response. The illumination itself was fragile, but she skipped her way upwards towards the heavens, slipping on the last one as it dissipated into the frigid night.
Mistress is still talented.
A smile curved her soft lips as she descended, spiraling wickedly through the air, bending her knees before impact. Her form scraped the roof, tumbling not once, but twice before her boots gained her weight and momentum, propelling her forward to carry on the speed only she could register. Well, her…and Chat.
***POV Change***
The blonde watched the scarlet drain from the wound along the edge of the 'victim's' scalp, the man's sky blue eyes rolling several times as the words gurgled through crimson stained teeth, unable to articulate any cohesive sound.
"Perhaps," La Nuit offered, lacking any apathetic attachment to the agony, "you should have thought before endeavoring to rape a young woman," he growled, flashing elongated canines. "Nobody worth their soul will mourn your loss."
The criminal gawked, fresh fluid draining from his inflicted wounds, leaving him speechless as his desperate attempts left him depleted with each passing moment. The effort was visible, and the former Parisian Hero offered no reprieve to his demise.
Put him out of his misery.
"I did not ask for your consultation, Plagg," he snarled, the sound almost completely animalistic, leaving no signs of the human that harnessed the actual voice.
You didn't ask, but sometimes an interference is required. The Kwami's voice was vehement, deadly, and the first tendrils of electricity sparked a response within Adrien's core, pulling a gasp from his taut lips.
"I don't need you," he growled, slamming the wall shut between them. It severed the emotional connection, breaking any remnants that made him feel attached to the ancient, and something inside of him broke completely.
You're human.
Nuit laughed, bitterly, shaking his head slowly. "I am not human any longer. I wield the strength of Destruction, and I feel the emptiness of loss, but there is nothing human left inside of this vessel," he breathed, almost too easily.
Plagg bristled in his mind, the echoing hiss reverberating well beyond the confines of his skull, spiraling into the pit of what could be considered his foundation. The Kwami wasn't having his defiance lying down, and the former model smirked slowly.
The dark gesture left his eyes devoid of true feeling, but dangerous intent echoed along the edges of his face as he looked at the perishing criminal. "I could make him truly suffer, you know that," he breathed, licking his suddenly parched lips. "Give me reason, Plague."
You are out of control.
"Your thoughts are noted," he remarked dryly, pushing his boot into the man's face, kicking him over as he continued trying to usher in air around his collapsed lung. "I'm not going to kill him, but I'm not saving him either."
Razor's edge.
Nuit shrugged, stalking by the writhing body, spinning his baton free from its sheath at the back of his waist. He used the pole to vault to the top of the nearest building, staring out at the glistening lights of the city.
The beast inside, his animal, snarled, keening for another prey to sink its teeth into, and the blonde was more than willing to comply. He merely needed to find someone worthy of his efforts.
The expertly trained man was already bounding across the rooftops, boots offering perfect traction each time he scaled the side of a structure. His body guided him on pure instinct as the scents of the city led him to a particularly high building.
The former hero slowed to a still, turning his head enough to glimpse a figure coming up behind him almost as quickly, his tail flicking in annoyance. The blonde didn't bother moving again, listening as the sound of her feet touched the flat surface several feet behind him.
"Either your senses are declining, or you let me catch up," the familiar voice murmured.
"The latter," he growled. "When are you going to learn?" He reached for his baton, and she snarled, the sound giving him pause
"Hands up where I can see them, Chat," she warned.
The name induced liquid fire through his veins, pooling in the pit of his gut until the beast was railing along its cage, forcing an empty, bitter smile to spread along his lips. He did as she asked, fingers splayed as he raised them lazily up at his sides.
"You know, Rena," he whispered darkly, "it would do you some good to remember I haven't been Chat Noir for years." He turned, gradually, dark jade eyes narrowing dangerously as he eyed her outfit. "How dare you," he hissed, tail lashing angrily.
Her Fox suit remained the same as the original design, but he could see the yo-yo wrapped around her hip and web designs spiraling up her arms. She was wearing the Ladybug earrings and the bracer belonging to the Spider Miraculous.
She snorted, shaking her head. "How dare I?" She pulled the yo-yo from her hip, spinning it with deft ease. "How dare you!" Her golden eyes hardened. "It's time to hand over your Miraculous."
His head tipped back, a bark of sardonic laughter dripping from his parted lips. He dropped his hands, giving her his back just as swiftly. "Don't follow me again," he offered, taking a single step forward before the crimson weapon was wrapped around his arm, yanking him backwards.
Nuit spun, sliding on a single knee as he pulled a green stained dagger from his thigh with his free hand. Just as fast, he was up, sliding under the string, cutting across the weapon with his blade, severing it from the source.
Rena was already rushing forward, and he bore his elongated canines, throwing the sharp instrument at her. The cunning heroine deflected the projectile with her flute, the dagger embedding itself into the roof where Nuit's foot had been just a moment before.
He soared through the air, baton grasped in both hands, bearing down towards the Fox.
***FLASHBACK***
"Do you want to talk about it?" Rena's voice was soft as she sat next to her best friend, staring out across Paris. The sun sat low against the city, casting clouds of cotton candy pink and brilliant orange hues. The Fox was never going to get used to viewing the world from this particular perspective, stealing her breath each time she caught the faintest glimpse of its eternal beauty.
"I'm not sure there is anything to say," Ladybug breathed, her ensuing sigh weighted with sorrow. It pulled the cunning woman's attention, forcing a frown to ripple across her normally confident face.
The auburn haired beauty could feel her heart contracting as she struggled for any of the right words to offer. The complete sense of hopelessness she sensed emanating from the top heroine made her falter…and that, in and of itself, instilled Rena with a doubt she couldn't shake. She wasn't sure what was weighing so heavily on the spotted heroine's mind and heart, but it was affecting her ability to be Ladybug.
"I'm always here—"
"Why the long face, Bugaboo?" Chat smiled brightly as he approached along the edge of the roof, tilting his head sideways, staring at the spotted heroine beyond her form. "You miss me?"
The Fox Heroine snorted, rolling her eyes. "Nobody ever misses you that much, Chat."
"Me-owtch, you wound me, Rena," he teased nudging her shoulder with his baton before spinning it deftly, planting it against the ground so he could put his hands atop it, resting his chin. "Joking aside, what's up m'lady? Something wrong?"
The woman shook her head slowly, bluebell orbs trained on the distant horizon. Something inside of Rena twisted, pushing a gathering warmth of panic through her body. The toxic doubt clung to each corner of her being, but no matter how hard she tried…she couldn't shake the general unease. It was unlike their leader to be so stoic, but everybody was entitled to their off days.
"I have to get going. My parents will worry," the bluenette said firmly.
Before either of them could protest, Paris' heroine was already swinging away.
Rena only wished…she'd known it was going to be the last time she saw the woman.
***PRESENT***
The Fox tumbled endlessly across the ground, the taste of copper bursting along her tongue as she used the momentum to find her feet. Her gloved fingers slid along the pavement, her body gliding backwards to a halt, chest heaving with the exertion to continue the strenuous pace they'd chosen.
As the woman lifted her gaze, she gasped, swallowing the dread dominating her body. Her left eye widened, the other swollen shut, watching Chat stride confidently towards her, despite his own wounds. His overall stature never wavered, that darkness in his eyes only growing with each resolute step.
She flung her left hand outwards, thick, shimmering webs appearing around the feline. She clenched her fingers and the magical conjurations engulfed him, knocking him to his knees as his emerald eyes snaked towards her.
"Really?" His voice was calm, but the fury in his eyes plagued her soul. "You know you can't beat me, Rena."
Obsidian electricity danced along his leather, snaking upwards along the metaphysical bounds created by her magic, and at first, the silence stretched, tangible, between them. However, the first snap of the webbing made her heart drop into her stomach, followed by cold panic driving her to launch upwards.
The broken yo-yo was gone, but the flute remained harnessed in her skillful hands as she dropped from the sky above his head. Orange and chocolate ribbons intertwined, cascading from her body. The elements flowed into the air, and for a moment, the Cat hero seemed caught off guard as she descended.
She watched, in a cosmic slow motion of horror. The points of his glimmering metaphysical cat eyes drooped, half closed. Her body tensed, witnessing his present disorientation, but the sudden satisfaction that dwelled in the center of her chest exploded, dissipating into indecipherable splinters.
The practiced fighter's eyes flew open, pupils blown wide, glowing with otherworldly power as the tendrils of power erupted from his abdomen. The energy knocked the Fox off course, and a particular slice of power scathed her hip as she rolled beyond reach to shield herself from the onslaught of raw potential.
We are too late.