Alya looked around her, hands on hips, worrying her lip between her teeth.
As it turned out, it was actually a lot harder to find Chloe Bourgeois than she'd first thought. Of course she was surrounded by her, but the original, the real Chloe, was apparently a tad more elusive.
"So, assuming she's not down here with the clones." Alya said, thinking out loud. "Because, vain or not, even she wouldn't hang around down here…"
Alya looked up at the building in front of her. "Chloe Bourgeois, Sunday morning, during an Akuma attack. She's got to be up there, right? Yeah, she has to be. There's no where else she could be."
Alya had already checked a few of Chloe's regular hang outs on her way over, mostly stuff she'd seen on Chloe's Snapchat: her favourite cafe, Sabrina's house, the park, and so on. There had been plenty of fakes, far more turned civilians than she had ever seen in an Akuma attack before, but the real one was still missing, and Alya was pretty confident in her ability to figure out which one was real.
The only place left to look was Le Grand Paris, and by extension, Chloe's room somewhere inside. Alya had run straight there the moment she realised it was the only place real-Chloe would've run to at a time like this— somewhere that emphasised her importance as a unique and special individual, not just one of the many.
The problem now was that a wall of Chloe-copies stood in the way, blocking all of the entrances with sheer mass of quantity. It was as if the Akuma had deliberately and strategically corralled his little demons in front of the hotel, perhaps just to tick her off.
While was more likely that he'd done it to protect his actual daughter from harm, Alya liked to think that the thousands of Chloes were instead a personal affront to her and her sanity.
It made her feel better about elbowing them out of the way.
This time though, it seemed there was no way she could just wade though the masses. The duplicates were packed closely together and they actively worked to prevent her from getting to the door. They pulled at her hair, tried to break her glasses— she could've sworn one even hissed at her.
The litany of snarky comments alone was almost enough to deter her, and it took a lot for Alya to just give up and quit. Their non-stop screaming made it really hard to concentrate, and while she'd really tried to barge her way through, all she'd got from it was another hard hit to her self esteem.
"Is that a mole on your head, or a massive zit? Wash your face, you ugly hog."
"All those clashing colours! Did you get dressed in the dark or is your fashion sense really just that disgusting?"
"If I see you try to film me with that ridiculous brick phone again— 'reporting', ugh— I swear I'll rip the stupid thing out of your hands. It's not my fault if your face or cheek or eye happens to get in the way. I'm not liable to any injury."
"You look tired… is all that futile chasing after Ladybug's identity tiring you out? It's definitely giving you some deep, deep wrinkles on your face, hands, arms— well, just everywhere really."
"Do you ever do anything other than run around after Ladybug like some sad neglected fanboy? It's honestly like you're trying to be the most annoying person in Paris, because if we're being candid? That's all I ever see you do. Other than shamelessly flirt with DJ Useless that is. Good god, get a real hobby."
Alya liked to think she had a healthy amount of confidence, but even she felt a bit down after that assault. The Chloe-clones were definitely meaner than the real thing and there were just too many of them to get past. She was getting shot at from all sides. The last insults had hit pretty close to home too, attacking her Ladybug obsession, even if it was a bit hypocritical of Chloe: self-proclaimed Ladybug stan number one. She also couldn't help feeling sorry for Nino, who wasn't there to defend himself.
'Let the record state.' Alya thought, 'I find Nino Lahiffe very useful and important and I treasure his company, friendship and general niceness. He's also very hot and I stand by my flirting.'
Anyway, it was besides the point. If she couldn't get to Chloe, then she needed someone who could.
Someone who could get into the building without having to wade through copies. Someone with quick and easy aerial access. Someone Chloe would probably trust without arguing about it for a hour.
It was obvious, what with Ladybug still absent.
Alya needed Chat Noir.
—
"Nadja Chamack! Has anyone here seen Nadja Chamack?" Chat yelled as he burst through the doors of the TVi studios.
He looked around the room for the reporter. Several people looked back at him, shocked, but none of them were Nadja, mainly just regular employees on their way out.
There was a moment of nervous silence before a receptionist pointed towards the elevator. "She's on the third floor for filming. Why, what's wrong?"
Chat grimaced, "An Akuma's targeting her and it's on it's way. I need this place evacuated as soon as possible, any way you could help me with that?"
A couple of panicked murmurs moved around the room. The receptionist nodded, pushing a stray curl behind her ear as she fiddled with the buttons on her desk. "Um, I think I can do that, but it'll take a little while to set off all the fire alarms from here, Mr… uh… Mr Noir. That okay?"
"That's good enough, thank you!" Chat called as he ran to the elevator, not missing the small but determined smile on the receptionist's face. He pressed the button for the third floor and waited impatiently for the door to close. As soon as it did, Tikki popped up from behind his ear.
"Chat?" She asked tentatively.
"Yeah?"
"Do you have a plan?"
"Uhh... Not really, no." He said sheepishly, "Just to get Ms Chamack out of here as soon as possible. I can't fight the Akuma and protect her at the same time, so I have to get her to somewhere safe, and quick."
"Like where?"
"Somewhere Perfect Candidate won't expect... maybe my house?" Adrien shrugged, "My Dad does have all that extreme lock-down stuff installed, should the worst happen."
Tikki frowned, fiddling with one of her antennae. "I don't know… that might not be the best plan. The Akuma is strong enough to force its way through. If the house gets destroyed and we haven't found Ladybug by then, we can't fix it. Duusu's in there, Adrien. I'm so sorry, but I can't risk her safety. Your bodyguard, that scary lady or your dad might be in there too, we can't endanger them either."
Adrien frowned, "You're right, sorry. Maybe... the top of the Eiffel Tower?"
Tikki shook her head. "The Akuma's tall, he'll see her. It needs to be somewhere low to the ground, but still secure enough. Secret, unpredictable."
Chat thought for a moment, tapping his claws against his leg. His ears perked up. "What about Marinette's bakery? It's low to the ground, it's sturdy, and they have metal shutters too. It's nothing as solid as my Dad's equipment but it'll do right?"
Tiki pursed her lips. Chat wasn't wrong. The Dupain-Cheng bakery was almost like a mini Fort Knox, and it was unlikely that the Akuma would look there. There weren't many people in Paris who knew how close Sabine and Nadja were either, certainly not Andre Bourgeois. Though saying that, she didn't want to put Sabine or Tom in danger either and, knowing them, they'd want to stay and protect Nadja. Chat would have to convince them to leave, but knowing the strength of their combined mother-bear instincts they'd likely be hard to budge.
Tikki sighed. Frustratingly, it was the only solid plan they had. With any luck, Marinette would be there and they could use her luck magic to fix everything without any more trouble. If not, Tikki could at least leave some kind of shielding charm there, just in case. She could already tell people were going to need her good luck more than usual, and just the thought of that made her feel exhausted.
"It's certainly safe there. The owner and Nadja are friends too." Tikki said, Chat not noticing the strange note to her voice. "But we shouldn't leave the Dupain-Chengs without protection. They're civilians."
Chat nodded. "Right. I'll send a message to Lieutenant Raincomprix now, see if he can spare any officers, and then we'll take her there."
The elevator dinged. As soon as the doors opened, Chat rushed through, using his baton to jump over employees and dart round corners. A few right turns and a sprint down a hallway led him to the shoot room, where he burst through the double doors, interrupting some kind of some breaking news. Nadja stood on the set, smile wide, ready to film. Before Chat could get a word in edgewise, the broadcast went live.
"Don't be bemused its just the news! This is Nadja Chamack reporting. Hawk Moth's latest Akuma victim continues to destroy much of Paris' historic infrastructure and cultural landmarks. While the victim's motive is still currently unknown, witnesses have noticed the Akuma turning civilians into Mayor Bourgeois' daughter, Chloe Bourgeois, leading some to suspect the Akuma may be acting on her behalf. Some social media influencers, such as Paris' foremost Ladyblogger, instead theorise that the Akuma itself is Mayor Andre Bourgeois, but we have yet to gain confirmation on this. Others have noticed— Oh! Chat Noir!"
Immediately, cameras swung round to face the hero and the crew turned to him expectantly. Nadja held her mic out, angled so that just her arm and the side of her face was in shot. She grinned at Chat with expert professionalism. "Hi, hello, Chat Noir! Do you have anything to say about Ladybug being so late to fight this Akuma? How do you plan to take down such a big opponent? What's your opinion on raising concerns that Hawkmoth is becoming too large of a threat for just two heroes to handle? Any plans to add more to the team?"
Chat couldn't resist a wink at the camera, "Well, my Lady is a very busy bug, sometimes she gets a little held up, but I can assure you she's on her way." The smile dropped off his face, replaced with a more serious expression, "Ms Chamack, while I'd love to answer the rest of your questions, unfortunately the Akuma is on it's way here, and it's targeting you. I'm here to take you somewhere safe, if you could follow me please?"
Nadja blinked. "Me? Why would it targeting me?"
Chat shook his head. "I can't say for sure, but I saw it very deliberately destroy a TV with your show playing, so I don't think it's safe for you to be out in the open like this."
Nadja's hand dropped out of shot. "O-Oh. Okay."
"Please follow me."
Immediately the room was chaos. As if on cue, the fire alarms started to ring across the studios, their red lights flashing urgently. Quickly signing off her show, Nadja handed her mic to an scared-looking intern and hurried out after Chat. The film crew behind her rushed to get out the building, haphazardly pushing delicate equipment to the centre of the room, perhaps in the hope it would be safer there.
"Where are we going? I have to pick up my daughter from daycare, oh my g— is Manon safe? It's not going to hurt her, is it?" Nadja said, trying to hide her growing feeling of unease. She ran her fingers up and down her arms, visibly worried.
Giving her what he hoped was a comforting glance, Chat ran along the hall, reporter hot on his heels. "Don't worry, Ms Chamack, I'm sure your daughter is fine, it has no reason to harm her." He peeked his head around a corner, and at the all clear, pulled Nadja along after him to dart for the stairs. "I'm taking you to the Dupain-Cheng bakery." He said between breaths, "You're friends with the owners right?"
Nadja gave Chat a confused but impressed look. "Yes? Sabine and I are childhood friends, we went to the same college when we were young. How'd you know? That isn't exactly public information."
Holding the doors open for her, Chat watched Nadja move through first before following her down the staircase. "A cat's curiosity pays off sometimes." Chat said, glancing at the floor number, "And if you want, I can send a message to someone to check on your daughter for y—"
"CHAT NOIR THERE'S A PROBLEM!" came a sudden booming message over the intercom, so loud that for a moment it overpowered the siren.
Both Chat and Nadja covered their ears, groaning a little at the painful volume. Adrien could feel Tikki wiggle deeper into his hair, irritated by the sound.
"OH SOrry, sorry, I had it on full volume, so sorry, sorry everyone. Um… hi, this is the receptionist from downstairs? My name's Célia. You asked me to evacuate the building, Mr Noir? I can't actually hear you from here, sorry if I gave you that impression, but I uhh, I needed to tell you that the Akuma— I can actually— I can see it. From my desk. It's frowning. It's right outside, um. It's kinda uhh... it's getting kinda close."
Well, that wasn't good. Chat grabbed Nadja's hand and pulled her after him, running down the stairs three at a time. He was very aware he had to get Nadja out quickly, quicker now that the Akuma had arrived. If that thing tried to storm the building, looking for its target, it would be more than one life in immediate danger. He couldn't save everyone by himself.
Célia, apparently trying to be helpful, continued her rambling narration over the speakers.
"By right outside, I mean its feet are floating by the main glass doors— I mean, uh obviously, I can see the rest of it through the rest of the glass, the front of the building is glass all the way up so y'know, um— I should probably… move myself soon... actually— you might want to hurry up too, its, uh, it's leaning forward— uh oh no, oh dear, um, it's reaching— oh god. Everyone— anyone upstairs needs to run down, downstairs somewhere, NOW like right nOW RU—"
A horrible creaking and crunching sound shook the whole building the moment Célia's voice cut out. Then, all at once, there was a roaring echo-sound of glass shattering fast followed by a metallic twang, like something strong snapped. The grating sound that came after could only be the walls and pillars of the building, suddenly crushed as easily as a potato crisp between two fingers.
Chat was forcefully reminded of the chimney from earlier.
Far upwards, he could hear screams and water pipes bursting, the occasional worrying crumble that, eventually, finished in deafening silence. Nadja and Chat shared a look, stood in frozen fear, before their thoughts were interrupted by Célia, back on the intercom, still commentating the situation. Chat breathed a relieved sigh. She seemed unfazed, so hopefully she remained unharmed.
"It's— I think it ripped the roof off— oh yeah, yep, it's holding the roof, Mr Noir, I can see it's hand, I think, well I think that's it's hand uhh… kinda hard to say. Might be a bubble or something, or like, um, a meaty... dark-blue-ish... medical glove... thingy. Oh, I don't know I'm just the receptionist, not some Akuma analyst. Whatever it is, it has a bunch of chunky rock-looking stuff all mashed up in there, what's left of the roo— OH it's moving again, it's oh oH— it appears to be looking into the building? From the top— it's kinda moving side to— like when you get fish, and you're curious to see, like, what the bird's eye view of the tank is and— um. it's moving agai— oh. oh no. oh no nO NO NO NO, EVERYONE NEEDS TO GET OUT NOW ITS GUNNA THROW THE—"
Célia's voice cut off again. There was an another overwhelming crash of broken glass, thousands of windows smashed into millions of tiny safety hazards all at once. The building shook hard, little shards of rubble and tile falling from the ceiling like snow. The stair case wobbled, and Nadja nearly fell, Chat catching her hand just in time. She looked at him with wide, frightened eyes. She whispered something he didn't quite catch.
"Dammit." Chat moved his hand to Nadja's shoulder so he could hold her steady. "Okay, here's the plan. I'm going to go up there and distract the Akuma, try and get it to focus on me rather than looking for you. You are going to run down to the ground floor and escape out the fire exit, round the back. Run as fast as you can to the bakery, take the shortest route. Stay low to ground, avoid any and all Chloes and don't let the Akuma see you, got it?"
Despite shaking like a leaf, Nadja nodded. "I can do that." She murmured, trying to smile.
Chat admired her for that. If he'd learned anything from his life as a teenage hero-slash-model, it was that dedicated reporters threw all their energy into getting a scoop, no matter the danger, and with any luck Nadja could keep herself safe with just as much effort. She motioned as if to give Chat a hug, but changed her mind last minute, instead settling for a slightly awkward handshake.
"Stay safe." Chat patted her shoulder before watching her run out of sight. As soon as she was gone, he sighed, sliding down the wall to sit on the step, resting his head on his knees.
"Chat?" Tikki asked, putting a tiny paw on his head, "Are you alright?"
He choked out a breathy laugh. "I just wish… I just really wish Ladybug was here. This is no where near fun without her." He looked up at Tikki bobbing in front of his face with a half-hearted smirk. "Sorry. I know saving the city isn't supposed to be fun but... it's a lot better when I'm not missing my Lady."
Tikki made a sound like a dejected chirp. "I'm sorry too, Adrien. I want her here too. She's comforting. She's a warm presence, she's a warm person. Ladybug has a way of making everyone feel better, but right now she's not here, and we're all Paris has. We can't falter, we have to be the strong ones. For her... for everyone." She stifled a sad little hiccup, pouted defiantly and posed like she was showing off tiny muscles. "We can do it, we can… we can pull the cat out of the bag! Yeah!"
Adrien had to appreciate her trying to cheer him up. "Pfft. Okay, Tikki." He held out his fist and she zipped over to give him a miniature fist bump-slash-hug. "Let's save Paris."
—
As usual, Alya's master plan was going awry.
Ignoring her aching legs, Alya had backtracked from the hotel to run towards the TVi studios. Assuming Chat would be at least heading in that direction, Alya had run as fast as she could, hoping to catch him before the battle moved elsewhere.
Though Alya was tired— what with the adrenaline rush starting to wear off and finding out that safely moving around broken infrastructure was a lot more difficult that it looked— she'd still kept going forward. So what if she was winded and sweaty? There was a city that needed saving, and she wanted to help. Not only did she live in Paris, but there was more than just her house on the line if something major went wrong.
Besides, Alya was excited to initiate the next step of her impromptu master plan: a little step she liked to call 'heroic intervention'.
When she'd thought about it in her head, she'd fully expected to see Chat and Perfect Candidate duking it out somewhere nearby the studio, a clash of worthy foes, a battle of strength and power of will. She imagined Chat deflecting badge rays with his staff, or using it to launch himself up for a strong whack-attack aided by gravity. He could be bravely defending Nadja from grabby blue hands or perhaps he would be using Cataclysm to clear all the stupid broken building parts away.
It would really help the community.
Maybe he'd already found the possessed object, and he would be stood there holding it aloft like a trophy of justice, waiting triumphantly for his Ladybug. He might've even been cracking scathing one liners, taunting the villain into its own self-made demise, real loony-tunes style. Perhaps he'd have found Ladybug and they were tag-team battling against the forces of evil, majestic and powerful, everything a hero should be, serving the city selflessly.
To conclude, she'd imagined something awesome, heroic. Then, she'd arrive, tell him her plan, together they and Ladybug would save the day, then they'd all become best friends and maybe go for brunch sometime, they'd finally add her to the team, and so on, the end, ta da, that's final.
Instead, Alya stood outside the building dumbfounded.
The studios themselves were in tatters. Bits of metal stuck out at weird, bendy angles, windows were crumpled up like broken screen protectors, doors lay snapped into splinters, good for nothing but firewood. The ground was covered in snapped pipes and shattered glass, fragmented bits of irreparable equipment smooshed into the concrete like empty snail shells. TV screens and cameras had been thrown like toys out of a pram, tossed on the pavement haphazardly. In some places the studio was so crushed, it looked like a discarded sweet wrapper or a scrunched up piece of tin foil. In others, it was practically sand.
The building looked more like a preschool crafts project than a multi-tier industrial building.
The Akuma stood at the front of the remains, still wildly tearing at the building from the roof down. It seemed unaware of the people running out screaming from the bottom floor, scattering in all directions. It was too focused on ripping out walls and chucking them out of its way, desperate to reach its prey.
Despite the chaos, it wasn't long before Alya spotted Chat Noir: he was a dark blotch against the otherwise clear blue of the mid-morning sky. He twirled upwards in an arc, using his baton like an oversized cane, soaring over the Akuma. He frantically waved his hands and swung his tail, even tried an improvised tap dance number on the Akuma's head, probably trying to distract it.
It didn't look like he was succeeding, though Alya did want to give him credit for style points.
The villain was too dead set on it's personal grudge mission for any sort of peripheral awareness. It didn't seem interested in fighting the black cat, even though a purple butterfly in front of it's face suggested it probably should be. Now that the Akuma was so close to it's prize there was very little chance of anything else getting it's attention. Chat could no more distract Perfect Candidate than a flea could move a mountain, though Alya couldn't really fault him for trying.
Inevitably, Chat's bad luck came into play right at the wrong time. As he moved to hit the Akuma with his staff, perhaps trying to get it's attention with a bop on the head, time seemed to slow down.
"Look out!" Alya yelled, but her warning came to late.
Chat hadn't seen the Akuma raise its hand.
Perfect Candidate reached his left arm back to forcefully puncture into another room, his balloon knuckle moving faster than should've been possible, so that before he'd even had a chance to strike, Chat was slapped away, hard.
Alya's winced, hearing the crash landing loud and clear even from where she was standing, a good two-hundred metres away. The Akuma didn't seem to care; it continued it's rampage of destruction as if nothing had happened.
It didn't take much deducing on Alya's part. Clearly finding and punishing Nadja Chamack was Perfect Candidate's top priority. The Parisian heroes weren't even on it's radar. It was as if the Akuma didn't even care about stealing the miraculous, though she supposed it would be hard to actually take them with such big, gross hands. Maybe he had tiny ones hidden underneath his gloves or something, or he'd send a Chloe to do it, Alya didn't know— it didn't really matter.
She didn't want to think about how powerful the Mayor's anger must have been for this to have been his reaction. His Akuma form was about as driven as his electoral campaign. On top of that, Hawkmoth seemed to be having trouble keeping him in check, which freaked Alya out more than anything else she'd noticed about the situation.
Perfect Candidate didn't act like a regular Akuma.
But that was still besides the point. She hadn't got what she came for and now Chat Noir needed her help. No one else was around. The civilians from the studio had already escaped and she couldn't see Ladybug anywhere. She was the only other person there.
So, it was up to her. She took off.
Alya ran behind the villain, dodging chunks of infrastructure as they rained down above her. The ground shook with every block, and Alya tripped more than once, but she was determined now, more than before if possible. The concrete under her feet rumbled like an earthquake at the Akuma's every movement and walking felt like being shook inside a glass tumbler, but, still she thundered onwards.
She heard a crunching noise above her. Looking up, she barely had more than a second or two to leap out of the way of a falling bathroom. Ceramic flew everywhere, and Alya covered her head with her arms, waiting until the crunching stopped before scrambling to get back on her feet. A millisecond more and she'd have been more smooshed than her sisters' Playdough. If that didn't restart her adrenaline, nothing would.
Still, she'd made it. Save a scraped knee and pounding heart, she'd made it unscathed too. Shaking the rubble dust from her hair, Alya refocused and looked around for Chat Noir, spotting him down the street, still a fair way away.
Chat had landed in a long bush, visibly struggling to right himself. It almost made her want to laugh: he looked like an upturned turtle, legs and arms wiggling about helplessly, his body sunk into the shrubbery. By some miracle, he didn't seem to be bruised beyond his pride; the bush must have broken his fall. Alya also noticed something little was flitting about above his head, up and down and back and forth, though it disappeared into his hair before she could make out exactly what it was. She stored the information for later.
Jogging in his direction, she called out his name, stopping every now and again to concentrate on climbing over the Akuma's mess. Having two sets of ears apparently didn't help him much, as Chat clearly couldn't hear her. He just kept wiggling uselessly.
She needed a different method.
Alya crouched down, picked a hand-sized piece of debris up off the floor and threw it, hitting him right on the top of his head.
"Ow!"
Alya stumbled. His voice sounded very high pitched. She felt kinda bad, he'd practically yelped in pain.
She'd definitely got his attention though.
Chat swung his head round, visibly angry, but his face calmed a little when he saw Alya. She waved awkwardly. He waved back, so she gestured at him to come over. He gave her a dry look, shaking his wrists in an attempt to point at his body, still jammed tight in the branches. Evidently, he wasn't going anywhere.
Alya sighed and ran over, taking care not to trip on the uneven pavement. "Hey."
"Alya? What are you doing here? This is area is way too dangerous for civilians." He wriggled his hand, trying to make a 'now-now young lady' motion.
Alya grinned. "What does that matter? I'm not the one who just got bitchslapped by a clown. That looked it hurt, you alright? Oh, and I'm sorry I hit you with a rock, that probably didn't help." She tugged at his arm, managing to lift him a little, "I was just trying to get your attention. Anyway, now's not the time, we have to get you out of here before the studio wall hits you in the face or something."
Lifting him turned out to only be half the job. Chat wouldn't let her get anywhere near his head for some reason, so she couldn't remove his cat ears from the little branches stuck through them, and his tail was so tangled it was practically part of the bush. He kept squirming too, which really wasn't helping.
"Ugh, stop moving! I'm trying to get you out!"
"I can't help it! I'm ticklish!"
"You're ticklish? You really do have all the bad luck, huh? Uhh, okay, lemme just—" Alya said, lifting his side just enough so that she could grab his baton, "—try it this way."
"What are y—" Chat managed before Alya clicked the paw-shaped button. Immediately the baton extended, pushing into Chat's back, launching high him up in the air.
They were both suddenly glad the Akuma didn't care about fighting the heroes as Chat screamed like he'd been dunked in cold water. He shot upwards like a bullet, a blur of blonde and black, screeching all the while. If she hadn't been so startled, Alya would've laughed her ass off.
It took Chat a while before he realised he could reach his baton to turn it off. He eventually, after reaching heights of the Eiffel Tower or more, spun down to ground level and stormed over to Alya, throughly annoyed.
"You could've warned me that you were going to do that."
Alya smiled, trying to look apologetic, "Sorry, I was trying to be quick, and hey, it worked right? You really should be glad I'm here to help you, I really saved your spandex-covered hiney, kitty cat."
"I would've made it out eventually." Chat said, pointedly ignoring her scoff. "What are you doing here anyway? Your house is nowhere near here."
Alya raised an eyebrow. "I was tracking the Akuma. Don't you watch the news? Nadja Chamack ripped into the Mayor's parenting this morning, it was obvious where he was headed." She made a raspberry noise with her mouth while making a double thumbs down motion, "Not twenty minutes after the broadcast and he's already akumatised. Besides, have you seen the size of that thing? I couldn't not see it."
"Oh. Right." Chat blinked. "No, I don't always watch the ne— at least, today I didn't—"
'It's okay. It doesn't matter, you figured out where it was going anyway. More importantly, as of right now, we gotta find Chloe. Chloe Bourgeois."
Chat tilted his head in confusion, looking at Alya like she'd all of a sudden sprouted four purple heads. "She's… uh… everywhere?"
He gestured to the spattering of clones behind him, some posing and taking selfies with parts of broken studio. One of them was using a discarded hallway as a catwalk.
Alya pinched her nose, trying not to appear frustrated. "Yeah, I know that. I had to wade through her lookalikes just to get here. No, I mean the actual Chloe. The real one. She can help us distract the Akuma."
"How? Perfect Candidate seems pretty happy with his clones. What makes you think you need the original Chloe?" He held up his hands placatingly at Alya's defensive scowl, "I'm not saying it's a bad idea, I'm just curious about how this it's supposed to work. I am a cat after all, curiosity's my thing. Talk me through it."
"Well..." She said, "Firstly, it was his parenting of Chloe that got him possessed in the first place— hence the epidemic: he's over compensating by filling Paris with his 'perfect daughter' because he feels insecure. Nadja basically called him a bad Dad this morning, so I'd say he's trying to prove a point that's she's wrong, Chloe's great, everyone should be like his delightful, wonderful offspring, etcetera, etcetera."
Alya smirked, holding out a finger triumphantly, "So, that's how we get him. Simply put, we get Chloe to praise his ass off for a while, tell him he's the best Dad in the world, everyone loves him, he's the best parent ever, whatever, and he'll lay off the destruction for a bit to lap up the flattery. That should give you enough time to find the butterfly and hopefully for Ladybug to arrive. Where is she?"
"She's on her way. Are you sure that will work? Why not just use a copycat?" Chat said, leaning on his baton. "I've seen more than one stop just to give him compliments. I even saw one post him a letter, which was kinda sweet, in a messed up kind of way."
Alya frowned, glancing at the clones, "My plan is going to work, but using these fake Chloes isn't going to cut it— they're more caricatures of her than anything. I spoke to one for a while and it was all insults and narcissism, so I'm certain they won't be as good at buying time as the real one. I don't know if they can improvise either, or if they'd help. Anyway, I think I know where Chloe is, but there's only balcony access, so that's why I need you—" She punctuated her point by jabbing Chat in the chest with her finger, "—to help me get to her and convince her to butter up her monster Dad!"
Gently pushing Alya's finger of his chest, Chat gave her another confused look. "Why didn't you just call her? I thought you had everyone's numbers saved just in case?"
Alya shook her head, "She wouldn't answer if I was the one who called. At the very least she'd hang up the moment I said hello. We... don't exactly get along. How do you know that anyway? That I save numbers?"
"Lady Wifi. She got around a lot, had to be a reason why she could teleport to so many phones: you had all the numbers already." Chat said as he shortened his baton and slid the screen open. "I can call anyone from this, so I can probably access Chloe Bourgeois' number, want me to try?"
Alya nodded, so Chat clicked the call button.
Ring, Ring. Ring, Ri-
"Uhh, hellooo?"
"Chloe? Hi, it's Chat Noir. We have a—"
Chat cut off as an inhuman screech came from behind him. Both he and Alya whipped around at the sound, ignoring the tinny voice of Chloe screaming over the phone.
Perfect Candidate had figured out Nadja wasn't in the building.
—
Though by no means had she expected her day to go well, Marinette really hadn't considered how bad the damage to the city would be with Ladybug missing.
Paris looked like the victim of a natural disaster. Every street corner had something broken, a property destroyed, a fire hydrant spewing water, or a civilian cursed into Chloe Bourgeois. You couldn't not see it, the devastation permeated into every nook and cranny of the city, but what killed her most of all was the silence.
Apart from the occasional phone camera shutter or indignant scoff coming from the Chloes, Mari couldn't hear anything, and that was worrying.
Paris, city of love, was never quiet.
Where was the traffic, the music, the chatter, the birdsong? No car horns, no laughter, no bicycle bells or friendly greetings along the riverside. Paris was supposed to be full of noise, life, vibrancy, and people. Special, wonderful, inspiring people.
And she couldn't see a single one that didn't look like a blonde haired brat.
It was taking a lot of inner strength on Mari's part to not blame herself. She felt sick. This was her home, and now it was in tatters, all because of her absence, her mistake. Ladybug was supposed to have stopped this. She'd promised.
Without Tikki, Marinette couldn't fix the bent lampposts, or the buildings with fallen balconies, or the roads layered high with rubble. There was no magical army of ladybugs to come and clean away the mess without the mask; the decay just stayed there, looking depressing and fuelling her guilt.
Marinette Dupain-Chang alone had no magic, no nothing, and though it was a heart-wrenching feeling to know she couldn't fix everything with a simple magic wave, she wasn't completely useless as herself. Instead, Mari helped in all the little ways she could as she ran along the route to the studios. She was determined to make something better, even if it was small, even if it seemed insignificant.
It would help. It would help someone.
As a result, she'd made slow progress getting to the studios. She'd stopped to help civilians: the very lucky, very few that had escaped the badge ray, directing them back to her house. If there was one thing she knew, Tom and Sabine Dupain-Chang would never turn away someone looking for help at their door; the minute those survivors crossed the doorstep they'd be offered help, a hug and a hot cross bun, and they'd know they were safe.
Mari caught cats and dogs, leading them to open parks where they would be safer, around nothing that could fall on them. She cleared roads where she could, shifting broken lumps of asphalt with her bakery-girl strength so people could get to safety without obstruction. She fixed whatever little things she could find as she ran through the main streets; plant pots that needed standing up, signs she stuck back on windows, swinging doors she shut closed, litter dropped back into bent dustbins; little things.
Marinette could save the little things.
But she was starting to get worried about Alya, more so than she had been to start with. Alya had only updated her blog once since her first video, and it was a single picture of a mass of Chloes, basically a small army, with the caption: 'it's an invasion'. That didn't tell her anything useful. How was she supposed to know where Alya was if she only posted stupid stuff like that? She couldn't even see behind the clones. Mari tried not to get angry, as she knew overreacting wouldn't help— even if she did want to scream with frustration— so she'd just run faster to the studios. Alya had to be there.
So, when she did finally arrive at the studios, or what remained of it at least, she tried as hard as she could not to pass out.
Words couldn't describe the aftermath of the Akuma's rampage. It felt like all life and energy had just been sucked from the whole area, everything grey and broken.
Mari's eyes skimmed the ruins for any sign of Alya. Initially it looked like no one was there, employees hopefully having escaped the wreckage before the Akuma tore it down, but after seconds of scared searching, Mari noticed a small group of civilians gathered at the building's corner, tugging at something.
At first, it was reassuring to see that more people had escaped the badge ray, but once Mari ran over she felt her heart fall through her feet. A young woman's leg had been caught under the building from about her knee down. The uneven chunks of rock made it hard to judge just how much damage there was, but her face was taut with pain. Three other people were trying to help her out: one was moving as much rock away from her foot as he could, the two others were holding her arms, trying to yank her out from under the concrete. They weren't making fast progress.
Without hesitation, Marinette rushed in to help. She grabbed a large rock on the other side of the girl's leg and lifted it with ease, unaffected by the shocked glances she received. "What happened? How did she get like this?"
An older man wearing a janitor's uniform shrugged, grunting a reply as he shifted away the debris, "Akuma threw the floor at her."
The woman groaned, her head suddenly rolling forward. She was struggling to stay awake.
"Oh, Charlotte, no, no, don't do that! Keep your head up sweetie, c'mon, don't fall asleep. I think that's bad for you, love." A plump middle aged lady with shockingly bright ginger curls cooed, crouching to push the girl's hair out of her face, "Stay with us, sweetheart."
Charlotte groaned again, her eyes nearly closed, her whole body shivering with pain. "I... can't feel any... my-my leg..."
The janitor and woman shared a worried look. The old man lowered his head and shook it sadly before picking up a piece of broken pipe, hacking at the surrounding debris with dead-set determination.
The young lady holding the girl's other arm sniffed, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. "This is all my fault. I was so stupid, I stayed in the building too long. If Charlie hadn't pushed me, I'd be the one stuck under this big hunk of junk." She kicked the rock needlessly.
Charlotte groaned again, and the woman tensed. She took deep breath, clenching and unclenching her teeth, looking at Marinette with a strained glance. "Sorry. I really— I really don't mean to sound so angry, I'm just really trying really hard not to fall to pieces right now. I'm having a very bad day."
The red-haired woman put a comforting hand on the girl's arm, giving her a reassuring squeeze. Speaking softly, she said, "Oh Célia, honey, no don't blame yourself, it's not your fault. You were trying to help— Chat Noir needed you! Right now, what's important is getting Charlotte out of here and quick to the hospital, alright? Chin up, love, she'll be just fine. She's going to need you positive, enough for the both of you, remember?"
Célia wiped her nose on her sleeve. "Do you really think so? I can't— Shannon, I can't without—"
"Oh no no, none of that now." Shannon said, pulling her in for a one-armed hug. "Be strong. Cry once she's out and safe. Now pull, we've got to get her free before that ungodly thing decides to come back."
"I-I'll try. I can... I can do that." Célia nodded, almost to reassure herself, before looking again to Mari. "Um, excuse me— sorry, I don't actually know your name— can you help with the rocks over the back of her leg please? They're too heavy for either of us to lift and Pierre's arthritic."
"I'm Marinette, nice to meet you. These ones here?" Mari asked, immediately moving over to tackle the larger chunks.
Before Célia could, Pierre answered, "Yeah, those ones there. Hey, kid, I can see you're strong and that, but aren't you a bit young to be running about during an attack like this? Where are your parents?"
"Home." Mari said as she tossed each piece of rubble behind her. "I've come looking for my friend Alya, maybe you've seen her? She's about my height, she has dark hair with red tips and a beauty mark above her eyebrow. Very stubborn, tends to be holding her phone?"
Pierre shook his head, "Can't say I've seen anyone like that around today, sorry kiddo."
"I haven't either sweetie, I'm so sorry." Shannon's face softened in sympathy, "I'm sure she's somewhere safe if she's not around here pet. You sure she's not at home?"
"Yeah, I don't think I've se— oh wait, wait, maybe!" Célia mumbled before quickly perking up, "Does she have glasses? Big black ones, kinda cat-eye style?"
"Yes! She does! Have you seen her?"
"Yeah! I know her! She's always at the studios, Nadja's kinda taken her under her wing, so I see her about a lot. She was here earlier, though I'll be honest I only saw her from a distance. She was with Chat Noir, I saw them through the front window. She was helping him get out of a bush or something I think? Yeah, yeah, no it was then, it was after he fell from the roof. He wasn't hurt or anything though, just stuck."
Mari sighed with relief, "Oh thank goodness, did you see which way they—"
"Got it!" Pierre shouted suddenly, his pipe striking and crumbing the last of the rock trapping Charlie's leg. Charlotte immediately fell forwards, Célia catching her safely in her arms with a grunt, the other girl's full weight laying heavy on her chest.
"Charlie? Charlie, oh my god, can you hear me? Charlie!"
"Yeah." Charlotte coughed, her eyes unfocused as she tried a wobbly smile. "Cece."
"Charlie!" Célia pulled her into a hug, both girls shaking. "I love you. Oh my god, I love you. I'm so, so sorry. Please don't die. I really cannot handle that on top of everything else today."
Charlotte managed a weak, but happy, hum in response.
"I'll call her an ambulance, they didn't answer before, but it's worth another try." Shannon muttered to herself before turning to Marinette, "Sweetie, I think it's better you make your way home and stay safe. I'm sure your friend has gone and done the same."
Marinette repressed a scoff. Oh, Alya would never.
As Shannon looked as if she'd argue the matter, Mari looked back to Célia, eyes pleading, "I just need to know which way she went."
"I... don't know if I should. I don't want anyone else getting hurt."
"Please. I really need to find her, I just want to get her somewhere safe before she gets herself into trouble." Marinette said, "Alya has no sense of self preservation."
Célia's expression fidgeted uncomfortably. "...Okay, but you have to promise me you won't go near the Akuma. I don't think I can take another injury on my conscience. Charlie's already caused me enough stress today; I could power the country with the nervous tension running through me right now."
Charlie made no comment, though she flapped her wrist as if trying to flip the bird. Sadly, it looked more like she was trying to drunkenly hail a cab.
Célia smiled at her fondly. Pointing behind Marinette, she said "...Your friend went that way, with Chat Noir. After that, I don't know."
Marinette sighed in relief, "Thank you, I promise I'll stay as safe as I can! Oh, and if you need somewhere safe to go to, go to the Dupain-Cheng bakery. Tell them Mari sent you, they'll patch you up. Thanks again, bye!"
The adults watched her run off.
"Tough kid. Hope she knows what she's doing." Pierre mumbled, brushing the dust off his overalls. Shannon hummed in agreement.
"Well, hey." Célia said, resting her cheek on Charlotte's head, "At least she promised not to get into anymore trouble."
—
Often, Adrien would ponder as to what God of Misfortune he'd pissed off to such an extent that his life was filled with such bizarre bad luck and perpetual bouts of social agony.
Usually, that God was Plagg. Typically his offence was running out of Plagg's favourite cheese. Today, however, he felt his troubles wouldn't be so easy placated with chunks of Camembert.
"Chloe! Open the door! C'mon it's only us!" Alya shouted.
Chloe scowled from behind the glass. "No! Not only do I not want your poverty all over my brand new velvet carpet— you've got muddy shoes, disgusting, utterly disgusting— but how do I know you are who you say you are? You could be a clone wearing an Alya costume!"
"What? That's absurd. Where would they even get one of those?" Alya clenched her jaw at Chloe's suspicious glance, taking a deep breath. "Fine, fine, whatever, then you can just let Chat in and then he'll tell you—"
"No! I'm not falling for your trickery! Chat and I are a very similar shade of blond! He could be another fake me!"
"Oh my god that's got to be the stupidest thing I've ever heard in my life. We don't have time to listen to this sh— Right. I can—and I will— break this door down if you don't let us in, Chloe."
"Ha! Exactly what a villain would say!"
"Oh my god! You're impossible!" Alya threw up her hands in frustration, taking an angry walk around the balcony. It didn't look like it was helping her cool down any.
"Chloe, just open the door, please. We need your help." Chat said for what felt like the millionth time. "We're not here to hurt you."
Chloe, to her credit, did have some valid reason to be cautious. Her house was surrounded, her father was indefinitely possessed, and all her other friends and family were vanished or absent. Really, it was the smart thing to do, to lock herself in where she felt safe. Maybe he would've even done the same in her position.
Unfortunately it meant she was more than a little protective of her room. They couldn't get in, or get her out, and they had to get her out. They couldn't exactly exact a distraction plan if Chloe was hidden indoors. Though, saying that, getting her to actually leave her room was proving to be much harder than either of them had thought, and Chat wasn't about to restart to Cataclysm-ing her door down.
Alya leant her back against the balcony rail, her head in her hands. "Chloe, for the love of all that is good, will you please just open the door."
"You won't trick me into letting you in, I'm too smart for that. You think I haven't seen the hoards of clones down there? Nothing's coming through these doors, imposter."
"I'm not a clone you stupi— Chloe. Please listen. We just need you to distract the Akuma. That's it, that's literally all I am asking you to do. Then you can go back to polishing your eyelashes or whatever it is you waste your time on, okay?" Alya spat through gritted teeth. "We just need to stall time until Ladybug gets here."
"Ladybug?" Chloe said too fast, perking up at the mention of her hero. "Is she coming to save me?"
Chat tensed before he could stop himself. "She's on her way."
Alya gave him a look. "You keep saying that. How long is she going to be?"
"Not long. She's dealing with another problem right now." He replied cryptically, "Let's focus on Chloe for now."
"What kind of problem? What could be more important than this? Paris is in tatters, Chat Noir." Alya asked, narrowing her eyes, "What are you hiding?"
Chat didn't reply. He gave Alya a look that said 'don't push it', which if anything only made her more curious, but she relented all the same. She could argue about it later, after they executed the plan.
Chat ears twitched like he'd just thought of something. Turning back to Chloe, he held out his hands, "Uhh, actually Chloe, we've come to relay a message, for you, from Ladybug, but we can only we can only give it to you if you open the door."
"Hmm." Chloe took a step back from the glass, eyes like slivers, "You can't just tell me it?"
Chat shook his head. He elbowed Alya, jerking his head towards Chloe, his eyes wide.
"What? Oh! Right, no, no, sorry Chloe. It's written on a sealed envelope that only you can open. Y'know, uhh, magic and junk." Alya piped up, eyes twinkling as she caught on to Chat's plan, "We can't exactly hand it to you through the glass, now can we? You have to open the door. Oh, and we won't give it to you until after you help us. Sorry."
Chloe moved to open the door but stopped herself, hesitating before she said, "I'll think about it." She then walked further back into her room without any other comment.
"Well, nothing much else we can do until she comes out of there then, great." Alya said, trying to remain patient. She slid down the railing to sit on the floor, lazily twisting her hair into French plaits. "Weird. Usually Chloe jumps at any chance to be the centre of attention. I guess she's learning to be a little more cautious? Man, I really thought this would be an easier conversation with you here."
Chat sat on one of the balcony's white couches, humming a vague reply. He leant back, hands behind his head, enjoying a small moment of reprieve. It was short lived.
"So, Chat… what's this 'other problem' Ladybug is out there facing then, huh?"
Adrien groaned inwardly. Of course Alya wouldn't let a tasty tidbit like that go so easy. He really needed to watch what he said around present company. "Nothing you need to know about, Alya. It's secret hero stuff." Chat muttered, wiggling himself into a comfier position.
"Sure, sure, of course. But what exactly does that entail? Why would it be a more pressing issue than an Akuma this destructive? What, did she find Hawk Moth or something?" Alya pried, leaning forwards.
"No, Alya." Chat said as he turned away from her. "I'm not telling you. It's not my business, it's not your business, drop it."
"Oh. I see. So she left you out of the loop too, huh?"
"Excuse me?"
"You just said it's not your business?
"Yes? Doesn't mean I don't know what it is. I'm just not nosy. I respect her privacy."
"Oh? Really, is that so? As if you wouldn't give your left kidney to know who she is under that mask?" Alya said, tying off her second plait. "Admit it, you're one curious kitty. This is just another secret you want the answer to, you're no different to me."
She was starting to annoy him a little now, if only because she was right. Of course Chat wanted to know who she was. How could he not?
He loved Ladybug.
He wanted to take her for coffee, tell the barista to make a tiny Chat Noir out of the foam so they could laugh about it together, at their little secret. He wanted to buy her flowers, roses and tulips and poppies all as red as her suit. God, more than anything he wanted to look into her eyes and see her, really see her, without ancient magic muffling the sound.
He wanted to kiss her and know no one else would ever be so lucky.
"Her identity is not your business, Alya, and it's not mine unless she chooses to tell me. Don't stick your nose where it's not wanted." He twisted his belt in his hands. "You won't always get the answer you want."
"Okay, well, now what does that mean—"
There was a rap on the glass doors, catching their attention. Chloe stood with one hand on the lock, one hand holding a stiletto aloft like a bat. "I've decided. I'll distract Daddy, but only because Ladybug's relying on me and I'd hate to let down a big fan like her." She shifted nervously. "No funny business?"
"Sure, whatever gets you to the roof. Let's go, prom queen." Alya said, her voice upbeat despite the sarcasm laced underneath.
Hesitant, Chloe unlocked the door, sliding it slowly open. Neither Chat or Alya moved, but stayed as physically relaxed as they could, as if trying not to scare away a flighty, nervous bird. Slowly, eyes flitting back and forth between Chat and Alya, Chloe stepped out onto the balcony. She turned to Chat, lifting her chin. "The stairway is blocked by clones. You'll have to get me to the roof by yourself."
Alya turned to him and shrugged, "That's fine by me. Fancy giving us both a lift?"
Chat nodded. "Baton-travel it is." He held out a hand to Chloe, smiling gently. "I don't bite."
Chloe pulled a face. "I know that. I'm not scared or anything. I'm Chloe Bourgeois! The one and only, by the way! No one even comes close to being as original or as cool as me, and those fakes are absolutely nothing like me!" As if to prove her point, she threw the shoe over her shoulder without looking. "Can you tell Ladybug I said that? She'll obviously want to know."
He couldn't help it, Chat grinned like a Cheshire. There was the Chloe he knew: sure, she could act careless, but she was still as brave as ever deep down underneath. He took her hand, safely launching them both up to the roof with his baton. After Chloe was up, he dropped back down for Alya.
Once all three of them were on the hotel roof, Chloe turned to Alya, hands on her hips. "So? What's this big plan of yours?"
"Just get up there, yeah up there— see, look where I'm pointing— on the weird atrium thingy and, uhhh... yell, I guess. I don't know, however you usually get your Dad's attention will probably work."
Chloe gawped. "Yell? That's your big plan? You want me to yell until an Akuma shows up?"
"Well, that's usually how they show up to begin with..." Alya murmured under her breath, careful to keep her volume low enough so that only Chat could hear.
"Just do your best Chloe! He's bound to hear you!" Chat told her, pointedly ignoring Alya's comment, "Want me to lift you up there? It seems hard to climb."
Chloe crossed her arms, sighed, and pouted. "Fine."
Chat waited until she had a good grip on the point-y thing on the dome's centre before he moved back to Alya.
Chloe glanced at Alya, "Now?"
"Now is good, yes."
Chloe clicked her tongue, already irritated. She took a deep breath, held it for a second, and then screamed as loud as she could, "Daddy! Da-aa-aady! Where are you? I need your help right now, Daddy! Daddy!"
Both Alya and Chat, almost in sync, covered their ears and winced at the screech. Chloe's shrieks really packed a punch, and Chat turned to Alya with a crazed expression, giving her a look that said 'are you sure this is going to work?'
Nodding definitively, Alya whispered into his ear, "It's going to work! If there's one thing the Bourgeois Family is good at, it's being massive attention hogs."
Well, Chat couldn't argue with that.
Alya stood up, looking across the city at the Akuma, it's hulking mass clear and visible from so high up. It was turning it's head— it was working!
'Ah.' Alya thought smugly. 'It's so validating to always be right.'
"Keep it up Chloe, he's looking this way!" She called, grinning wildly.
Chloe took an even deeper breath. "DA-AAAA-DDY! Come here! It's so important Daddy, I need you to get over here now!" She even stamped her foot for added effect, though she nearly fell off the building in the process. She recovered quick, "Daddy! I mean it! Now!"
Perfect Candidate was definitely paying attention. He started floating towards the Le Grand Paris, his frown reverting to a smile at the sound of Chloe's voice. His big meaty hands swung at his sides merrily.
"Ew. Nasty." Alya muttered to Chat, who looked equally as disgusted, "Don't like that."
"I need to talk, Daddy!" Chloe shouted again, shooting a look over her shoulder at Alya and Chat. She lowered her voice a little, "Hey, uhh, shouldn't you get out of here or something? Like, I'm happy to have you to protect me as like, meat shields should anything go wrong— and if it does, it's your fault Alya, this was your stupid idea— but won't it be suspicious if Chat Noir is stood literally behind me? Daddy's an Akuma right now, won't he just attack you?"
It was hard to stomach, but Alya had to agree; Chloe was right. They couldn't stay in plain sight, especially not at Akuma-eye-level. It would be safer down on the pathways, provided they stayed away from clones and the giant balloon feet that would be passing through very soon. The smart thing to do would be to go before Hawk Moth's weird butterfly spawn arrived, and now was as good a time than any.
"As much as it pains me to say it, she's not wrong, Chat. We should leave." Alya said, already grabbing her things, "Keep shouting Chloe."
"Ugh, you don't have to tell me that." Chloe said, rolling her eyes so hard her head tilted, "I know what I'm doing, just let the expert work in peace already. You just worry about fixing my Dad."
"Yeah, sure, whatever, thanks!" Alya said, Chat grabbing her by the waist to launch them both over to the next set of buildings. "Don't let Ladybug down!"
"Hmph." Chloe said under her breath as they left. "As if I would." With a sigh, Chloe yelled again, deliberately ignoring how cold she felt now that she was alone, "Daddy! I need you! I have a... a problem and you have to fix it! You need to help me, right now! Right now, Daddy!"
Chloe wanted to slap herself in the face. Why didn't she wait longer to come up here— she could've rehearsed this! Why have an expensive, honey-comb custom decal mirror if she didn't use it for manipulation practice, like it was designed for— ugh, god she felt like such an amateur. She didn't even have a proper excuse ready, she was just yelling randomly. Usually making a big deal and whining like this meant she'd be getting something good out of it: a purse, a new bracelet or necklace, shoes, a TV cameo, y'know, the usual stuff you asked your rich, politician Dad for.
But she was coming up blank. For once, Chloe couldn't think of anything materialistic she wanted. Typical.
'Ugh.' She thought to herself bitterly, 'Alya's poverty is contagious. Gross.'
Caught in her own musings, Chloe didn't notice as Perfect Candidate sidled up to the hotel, eerily silent. He leered over the building, casting a shadow that engulfed the whole roof like an eclipse, the badges across his sash glinting sharply as he moved. When Chloe did look up, wondering why the mid-morning sunshine had vanished, she was met with, to her repulsion and horror, a comical and clinical smile mere inches away from her face.
Repressing a scream, Chloe clung desperately to the atrium spire like it was all that could keep her safe. Her mind ran like wildfire, trying to think of something, anything compelling to say. For some ridiculous reason all she could think of was how much she loathed clowns.
"D-Daddy! You got here... way faster than I thought you would! But... it's so... good! It's so good to see you, Daddykins, yes it uh, it is, you haven't paid attention to me at all, all day!" Chloe drawled, subtly wiping the panic sweat off her brow, covering it up as a dramatic flick of her wrist. It came off more stilted than she'd meant it too.
Surely Ladybug was supposed to be here by now. The Akuma was staring her dead in the eye and it was beginning to really creep her out. It felt like he was leaning closer too and it was making her skin itch. She didn't know how much longer she could keep on pretending to be brave.
"Y-You... uhhh... you, you're always too busy! Yes! That's it! You're always too busy for me Daddy and I am very upset!" She said with a tone of relieved panic, fumbling her way through delaying tactics. "I c-can't believe you've spent all day b-breaking buildings and you, um, you didn't even invite me!"
She was certain the Akuma could see her shaking. Her excuse was stupid, which only made it worse that it was the only thing she could think of. It made her want to kick herself, but unfortunately her legs had turned to warm, melty jelly and were concentrating mainly on keeping her upright. Chloe knew she was supposed to be used to acting like she didn't care, like this wasn't even scary, but instead her stomach twisted in tight knots the closer and closer the Akuma got to her. She could taste her heart, what with how far it had jumped up into her throat.
Chloe wasn't an idiot. She knew why she was so upset.
It was the sudden sickening realisation that that was her Dad, trapped inside that monster.
Her Dad who kept her safe when no one else was around. He tucked her in at night, took her out for birthday dinners, made sure he knew how proud he was of her every single day. He worried about her safety more than anyone, more than her mother, more than her stupid butler, more than Sabrina. Sure, he was the Mayor, a renowned businessman, hotel owner, public figure and sash connoisseur, but more importantly, most importantly, he was Chloe's Bourgeois' father.
And now his eyes were soulless.
"Stupid Alya and her stupid ideas." Chloe said under her breath, fighting back tears. "How did I let her talk me into this? This is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous."
The Akuma tilted its head slightly, as if irked. The air seemed to compress with sudden tension.
Chloe blinked. It's hearing was far too good. She shivered. "Oh, it's nothing Daddy, don't fret!" She said, trying to wave it off, "Just a little... friend t-trouble that's all!"
Perfect Candidate righted it's head. With a crunch that sounded like a chicken bone under an angry heel, the goofy smile started to turn.
"D-Daddy? What's wrong? It's just Alya!" Chloe blurted with a nervous scoff, "Nothing I can't handle! She's always annoying me!"
The smile turned faster.
"Really, D-Daddy no, really, I'm used to her and her friend Marinette tormenting me! You don't have to get involved or anything, r-really, I can handle it by m—"
The Akuma suddenly jerked forward, it's metronome ticking reverberating inside her head. It raised a dark blue hand, finger looming millimetres away from Chloe's face, blocking out the sky.
"Oh my god, I'm going to die." Chloe whispered to no one in particular.
Gently, in a way that was more creepy than comforting, the Akuma patted Chloe's head, just twice, with it's forefinger, seemingly choosing to ignore Chloe's violent trembling. Perhaps in its delusion it hadn't even noticed.
The Akuma's smile turned all the way round, rapid clicks travelling like a curse through the empty streets, as it finally returned to its devilish frown with a sickening crunch that made her bones vibrate. Then, it leant back, turning away to float back through Paris, like a foreboding balloon, lost by a child at a fete.
"O-Oh. Maybe... maybe not then. I'm... sure that's... that's fine." Chloe managed to say before her legs collapsed under her and she passed out from the fear.
She was safe though. The rooftop was stable and her body was far from the danger. By some twist of her torso as she fainted, her jacket had caught securely on the spire, so she was at no risk of falling either.
Chloe would be fine.
After all, Perfect Candidate had someone new to focus on.
