Ladybug decided she was well and truly sick of waking up in unknown places.

When she opened her eyes, she was greeted by the wide, open expanse of cloudless blue skies. Under her body, she could feel soft sand, gentle on the fading soreness she still felt, and nearby, a fire crackled. She turned her head slowly, blinking at the burning wood gathered on the beach beside her, and further still, her coat was hung on sticks stabbed into the sand, allowing it to dry.

She sat up.

All around, the sand was disturbed into long, smooth channels. It was like the tracks left behind by snakes or eels, but much larger. Otherwise, however, there were no footprints, and not a soul in sight. Ladybug was alone.

Looking down, she turned her hands over, stretching her fingers. They felt stiff from being cold for too long, but mostly, she felt fine. Her headache was gone, and the pain in her chest was down to a dull ache. If she craned her neck, she could see the wound, healing nicely and sealed from the air by a translucent green paste. The way it dried in place, it didn't even need to be bandaged.

The presence of the unfamiliar medicine was the only reminder that any of her previous experience was real. If not for that, the pirate might have been able to convince herself it had all been a dream. If not for the bullet wound, she might have been able to convince herself that her failed execution hadn't happened at all, that she'd simply gotten too drunk and woken up now on a beach she didn't know.

But it was there, it had happened, and she couldn't pass it off as something she'd simply dreamed up. Though the entire past day was hazy, her memory patchy and feverish at best, she could still feel the chill of the ocean and the glow of green eyes in the darkness. With her wits about her, now, all of the details were starting to fall into place, as unbelievable as they may be. The way Chat had joked about his appearance, to clinging to the dark like it was the only thing protecting him, to the fish smell and without a doubt the fact that he had to be able to breathe underwater. The way he referred to the ravine, the Cataclysm, as his, and the marks in the sand all around her. She couldn't have ended up here, on this beach, if he hadn't brought her here.

Ladybug wasn't a superstitious person. She didn't believe any of the fairy tales, any of the legends and myths and local lore that pervaded the seaside towns she visited. She'd never seen or met anything the folk tales spoke of, never experienced bad luck or magic, and she'd always said she'd only believe something was real if she saw it for herself, which she never would, because it didn't exist.

At least, that's how she had thought before. She… might have to rethink a few things. Though she wasn't ready to admit fully to herself what her mind was trying to conclude already, just the theory was enough to make her question her own sanity.

For now, though, she could push the thoughts away and figure it out later. Standing up, she was surprised by how sturdy her legs were beneath her, after everything she'd been through. But with how the sun was high in the sky, and how the fire had mostly died down to embers from what had no doubt been a roaring blaze a few hours ago, she must've been out for quite awhile, and the rest had clearly done her well.

Out toward the ocean, the waves were gentle and calm, sparkling in reflection of the midday sun. in the opposite direction, the beach gave way to grass and foliage, and the beach rose into cliffs on either side, jutting out over the water and obscuring the beach from most directions. Though she couldn't see to the other side of the greenery, the pirate didn't expect much to be there, leaving the little island as more of a puny islet. All the same, it was a place she didn't recognize, and it was hidden well. Even if there were legion ships patrolling the waters, they probably wouldn't expect to find anything here, and it may very well be outside of their boundary anyway.

The question remained, however, about what she should do next.

Fantastical beasts or not, near death experience or not, she was technically stranded here. She couldn't be sure whether Chat would come back and help her or not, especially considering he'd already done far more than she could have asked of him, and her crew had probably heard by now that she was most likely dead. On the bright side, nobody would be looking for her, but on the downside, nobody would be looking for her.

She didn't much like the idea of being stranded on an island alone and drawing faces on coconuts to stay sane.

Hiking up the beach was difficult in the soft sand, but soon, she made it up to the treeline and disappeared behind the thick brush. Just like she'd expected, the patch of foliage was small, and she could see right through it now to a rocky shore opposite of the sandy one she'd woken up on. Turning, she trekked through the thick plant life, coming out of it on top of one of the rocky cliffs she'd seen overhanging the ocean.

From up here, Ladybug could see most of the horizon, and looking around only made it more clear how far away from anything she was. There were no ships, no islands, only water for as far as the eye could see. She couldn't even see the dark patch of the Cataclysm, leaving her to wonder just how far Chat had taken her.

As much as she didn't like being a damsel in distress, she wasn't leaving here unless someone else helped her.

Climbing down was faster than climbing up had been, and soon, she was jumping back down into the sand. Returning to where she'd woken up, and now no longer having the excuse of exploring to quiet her thoughts, Ladybug was left blankly staring at the now long dead fire. What was she going to do now? For as long as she'd been a pirate, her entire adult life and beyond, she'd never been without her crew, or her weapons, or her ship. Now, though she had survived the impossible, she had none of those things. It made her feel small, suddenly more unsure of herself than she'd been in a very, very long time.

She could only sit, resting her head on her knees, and let her mind trail off into uncertainty.

It wasn't until the sun was starting to set, casting long, bleeding rays of orange across the painted water, that she was shaken back to reality. It wasn't anything big that drew her from her drawn out internal debate, not any change in noise or anything particularly noticeable around her. No, it was just the smallest change in motion in the gently sweeping waves, just the slightest splash heard above the sound of the sea. For just the briefest of seconds, something black appeared above the surface, disappearing as quickly as it had come.

Normally, Ladybug would have tensed and been ready to fight the instant anything in her surroundings changed, even with her notoriously good luck. Anything could turn on her at any moment, anyone out for a bounty on a pirate's head, and the sea itself was an unforgiving and cruel mistress, teaching all of her travelers well and good that they'd best not underestimate her creations. But after the experience Ladybug has had, she finds herself unbothered by the presence in the water, an inquisitive curiosity taking over where normally apprehension would have been.

Rising to her feet, she approached the water, bringing herself to an edge of rock overhanging a deep pool. When she peers down into it, at first, nothing happens. But soon, two points of glowing green appear, rising from the depths. At the center, slitted cat pupils come into focus, so inhuman and yet all too familiar already.

She could be afraid. Things are different now, with her being steady on her own feet and not collapsed at death's door, so she can't be sure what his intentions are still. But she's had enough time to think, to stitch together as many fragmented memories as she can recall, and nowhere in her right mind can she find reason to distrust Chat after the lengths he'd gone to to save her, when he'd had no obligation whatsoever to do so.

Besides, as he rises ever so slowly toward the surface, eyes wide and every movement wary, she can't help but think that maybe he's more afraid of her than she should be of him.

Though she is on the opposite side of fear right now, she does find an odd sense of weighted interest taking form within her. She's never met him outside of the pitch dark, outside of a hazy fever. She could have hallucinated the things she knows about him, and she still doesn't know what he looks like, whether he's really got a human shape like she thought she'd felt, or if he's a terrifying beast of the deep.

It doesn't cross her mind that maybe he's both.

He stops long before the surface, before the light can catch on his face and illuminate it. He's hiding beneath the dark of the water, clinging to the shadows and hesitating to show himself, just like she'd guessed. Before the rational side of her mind can catch up, she's reaching out, dipping a hand into the water. It rises up her wrist, her elbow, all the way up until her entire arm is submerged and her face is just inches above the surface, her other hand braced on the rock for balance. She can still see him, blinking up at her, otherwise seemingly unmoving.

A hand takes hold of hers, tentatively.

This is the moment where her sense of self preservation comes slamming back out of the abyss, and for one terrifying moment that makes her heart lurch into her throat, she's convinced now is the moment he'll turn, and yank her off of her precarious stance and finish the job Hawkmoth started.

His grip tightens, and she feels like her heart stops, waiting for the plunge into icy water. But instead of her going down, he comes up, his features slowly coming into focus. He only stops once he's face to face with her, a mirror image on the opposite side of the surface as she.

And suddenly, Ladybug starts to question everything.

Because he's beautiful.

She knows she's staring, and he lets her, his hand clasped tightly with hers and she's too distracted to notice his fingers are trembling. She knows his eyes, but they're completely different when framed by his pale and objectively perfect face. His skin is flawless, and a mess of wild golden hair floats weightlessly above and around his features, framing him in a softness that compliments his sharp jaw all too well. Aside from the eyes, he was just as human as she'd pictured.

Gently, without pulling, she tugs on his hand. He startles, breaking out of his own seemingly entranced state much like her own, and follows her beckoning without much hesitation. Soon his face breaks through the surface, his hair somehow staying impossibly dry and fluffy even as it leaves the water, and she doesn't have time to wonder about it because he's still pulling himself up and his face is followed by his beautifully sculpted bare chest and oh dear lord someone help her.

He stops with his waist at the surface, and she's too busy thanking the higher powers for having pity upon her to question why. Meanwhile, he is completely oblivious to the absolutely not innocent thoughts going through her head, and is staring silently at her with an expression that takes her far too long to recognize as concern. No, wait, not concern, not like worry for her, he looks scared.

That's enough to mostly snap her out of… whatever her brain is doing. "Chat?" She asks, gently, her voice barely audible over the waves. He relaxes, ever so slightly, his muscles still taught with anxiety and no Ladybug his eyes are up there.

"Uuuuh. Hi?" He tries to offer a friendly grin, tries to act confident, but it just comes off as an awkward grimace, and all she notices in the process are the two pointed fangs he has. He seems to figure that out, and is just as quick to let the expression fall.

There's a long, long pause. Neither of them know what to say, and Ladybug is slowly managing to get her mind out of the gutter. While she does so, he seems to realize their hands are still clasped together, and startles backward and out of her grip. Ladybug is almost just as startled, now fully realizing just how much he looks a bit like a cornered animal and her thought from earlier about him being afraid comes back full force. It's enough to get her mouth moving, her tone filled with concern as her face pulls into a frown. "Chat, are you… scared of me?"

He blinks. Once, twice, several times in the span of a single second, and then he sighs. Some of the tension seems to drain out of his shoulders as he does so, making him look so much smaller as he closes in on himself. "I guess you could say that. Humans are dangerous, it's better to just... not ever be seen, or anything."

It makes sense, she thinks, and the tiny voice in the back of her head is screaming about that conclusion she's still not quite ready to think about yet. "Well, you're not wrong there. Guess I learned that one the hard way." Maybe she's trying to be relatable, maybe she's just being honest, but either way, it seems to work. His eyes had gone downcast, but now, he looks back up at her through his eyelashes and she has to stomp down the fluttering in her heart.

"Yeah, I suppose you did."

They lapse back into silence again, but it's a smidge more comfortable this time. Chat looks like he's starting to realize she's not going to try to murder him, although Ladybug is feeling extremely conflicted and more than a little confused at this point. She only remembers maybe half of her fuzzy memories involving him, and too many things are adding up and yet not enough at the same time, and also there are way too many butterflies appearing in her stomach already, and it's just a big tangled mess. She kind of wishes she could just feel afraid instead, all of these other emotions are a lot all at once. Finally, the silence has lasted for too long, and Ladybug needs answers.

"You're… really pretty."

Dammit that was the wrong thought.

Once again, Chat is startled, although at least this time his cheeks go a bright pink. He glances away, decidedly not looking at her, and mumbles under his breath, "You wouldn't say that if you saw the rest of me."

Maybe he hadn't meant for her to hear that. Maybe she doesn't really care.

She's curious, she wants answers, and her filter or maybe just the rational side of her brain entirely is apparently dead at this point, so it's without hesitation that she says, "Then show me and prove it."

Ever so slowly, he looks back at her. She thinks he must be startled again, but his expression has gone blank, his eyes betraying nothing. That's how he stays for several long seconds, and she's almost tempted to take it back and apologize when he finally says "...Okay."

His voice was just as blank as the rest of him, but he couldn't hide the slight tremor in it. Before either of them can back out, he faces another side of the pool, and with a powerful heave he's pulled the rest of his previously hidden body out of the water in one smooth movement.

And, in the process, confirming the suspicions Ladybug hadn't been letting herself consider.

His torso is completely human, just like she already knew, but that was where the normalcy ended. Right at the line of his hips, his pale skin changed to black scales, traveling all the way down the length of the huge tail he had instead of legs. At the end, it flared out into a wide double fin, green in color that faded nearly to yellow at the edges, and on his sides and back he had short matching fins as well. They were thick and sturdy looking, almost like a dolphin or a shark. Lastly, in a cluster on his lower back and trailing down his tail a ways, he had black and yellow spines that looked more than a little dangerous. While she took in his appearance, Chat twisted uncomfortably on the rocky beach, his tail gathered under him and one eye on the pool of water. The tension in the air was palpable, and soon, Ladybug got over her awe and noticed it. She looked back up at his face. She hadn't noticed before in her attracted gawking, but there were two more black fins on top of his head, almost resembling cat ears.

"I still think you're pretty."

Looking more than a little shocked, and going red in the face again, Chat deflated and relaxed ever so slightly. He tilted his head, giving her a thoughtful look. "No offense, but you're kind of odd."

"Says the guy who's half fish." she quipped right back, unbothered by his lack of tact. At the half sarcastic, half joking tone of voice she used, though, the rest of his trepidation seemed to be broken. He cracked a wide, genuine grin this time, directed only at her. Pointed fangs and all, the corners of his mouth turned up and his cheeks squished into his eyes and suddenly Ladybug felt like she was staring at the sun itself.