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Augusto Vega/Bengal Tiger

18:34, Friday

Augusto fled the second the helicopter appeared. He had been so determined to announce himself, and then the second that the light had shined on him, he had backed out. Something inside him, instincts or something else, had told him to run. Simply run. That was the only order. Run anywhere. But his human instincts caused him to, without even realizing, head in his home's direction. The helicopter was falling behind him; his sensitive ears could tell without even having him to look back.

The wind danced through his messy hair, not having changed much with the transformation, and the sky was starting to become cloudy, with the occasional thundering boom in the distance. "Great – now I'll be wet," he muttered as he sprinted across rooftops, hopping over the gaps housing streets and alleyways. He felt himself tense slightly at the thought, not being able to tell if it was him or Rybbo's feelings projecting onto the other's.

The sky continued to darken, and after wat felt like hours, he finally reached home. He had lost the helicopter completely, managing to cover himself up with shadows and blend in with the shingled rooftops. He had had a hard time getting home due to the injuries slowing him down, his jumps not as natural and fluid as they were on his way to first meet the heroing trio. Now, they were all awkward and stiff, his limbs only bended when they absolutely needed to.

He guessed the suit couldn't tear, otherwise, it'd be completely busted after his beat up. Chucked through multiple chimneys, slammed in the chest with a magic yoyo, then getting his face slammed into an iron beam. He certainly had had an eventful day.

His tense body started to relax a little, his home in sight. With little grace, he painfully took a different route than before, not finding the previous one. He winced in pain as he felt his aching legs absorb the impact of dropping down onto a thick tree branch. He leapt up again, stretching his hands out to swing in through his open window. Should've closed it on the way out, he grimaced. He did so, but not without biting his lip to not howl in pain. He managed to slid into the window, not hitting any of the school resources or the chessboard that were right in front of it. He crashed into the ground, forgetting the last part. He skidded across the wooden floorboards, knocking into the drawer holding up his notebook. Not wanting to make any more noise, he instinctively snapped out his arms, managing to catch it before it hit the ground.

He grabbed onto the side of his desk, breathing heavily and pulling himself up. "That… was… painful…" he gasped in between breathes. "Augusto, you up there? I thought you were out on a walk!" he heard his zio cry from the kitchen downstairs. "Uh, sure!" he replied, wincing at how strained his voice sounded. He quietly murmured, "Rybbo, hackles down," and in a flash of orange light the kwami appeared, sitting up and grinning at him from his palm. Suddenly, all the pain disappeared. It was as if he never had any injuries. The only thing that remained was a bit of soreness, but he'd had much worse in accidents at school. He quietly put Rybbo in his shirt pocket, then walking downstairs to the kitchen.

His zio was an incredible cook; that was one of the first things he had learned when he first arrived. He often held large dinners, whether it be for the rare party or just inviting over some sort of banker or whatever to wine and dine. Augusto usually opted to stay in his room in those cases, never having formed much of an interest in that sort of thing. "We're having guests over tonight!" he grinned. Augusto shrugged, popping a small piece of cucumber into his mouth and then turned back to the stairs again. "Eh, eh, eh. Non oggi," (not today) smirked Eliano. This caused Augusto perk up, curious. "I see you're still wearing the armband I gave you," he started, causing Augusto to groan. This was one of his uncle's habits. To build up suspense, he'd always drop some sort of hint or tidbit of information to Augusto, and then change the subject for as long as he wanted until Augusto was visibly agitated.

He knew it was no use, though. "Yes, I am," he responded simply, eyeing the rest of the food that was on the pots and pans on the large stove. "How do you find it?" Eliano had a tiny bit of mischief glinting in his eyes as he walked over to the oven, opening it and pulling out a pan with his big mitts. "Very… silent," replied Augusto truthfully, starting to become impatient. The sooner he was practically stomping his foot on the ground, the sooner Elianos would tell him. "That's one of the many things that had your father, aunt, and I so fascinated when we first say it. Anyways, some of your friends are coming over," Eliano told him.

This caused Augusto to perk up even more for two reasons. One, his uncle had told him what was going on without blowing his head with suspense, and second, he didn't have any friends. He was the more timid type of kid in school, always sticking his head in textbooks and praying to god no one decided to socialize with him. He was scared to ask. "What friends?" he enunciated slowly, careful to not mumble. "A few of the kids I liked from class," he grinned. Augusto gaped, mortified. This was a teenager's worst nightmare! "Uncle! I barely know them! There's a reason why I act like a nerd in class!" exclaimed Augusto once he recovered from his stupor. At the beginning of the semester, there had been a 'get together' day where all the parents and teachers and children met up in a classroom, meeting each other.

Zio Elianos was a pretty well-known lawyer, so he received a couple of firm handshakes and few warm welcomes from former clients. He had also been talking a bit too much to some of his classmates' parents, along with his classmates themselves. He had been completely unsuspecting of his 'friends' coming over. He had expected to come home, take a bath, and relax for the rest of the day, doing whatever he pleased; especially after his encounter with Ladybug. "But zio!" he whined, trying to act like a little child. "No buts! They're coming over in half an hour I suggest you get ready," Elianos commanded sternly. Augusto knew there was no point in arguing, so he shuffled upstairs, his head bowed as he trudged on. "Who are your friends?" asked Rybbo, coming out of his shirt pocket when he was certain Elianos couldn't hear them. "Don't have any," sighed Augusto, "that's why I was mortified when he invited a bunch of classmates over."

Rybbo laughed a little bit. "So, why don't we hurry up and freshen up?" Rybbo asked, making a comical little dance midair. Augusto snorted at the sight, walking to his room and throwing himself on his bed. Letting his mind wander, it lead him to what Rena had said to him before she had made her hasty escape. He would meet them at midday on the Eiffel Tower tomorrow. Would Cat Noir be there? It would be nice to have another feline's opinion.

He was abruptly reminded of his fight with Ladybug as his lower back ached. Standing off, he shrugged off the plaid coat he was wearing and grey undershirt, laying in bed again. "Looks like Ladybug did a number on you. Seems like most of your torso is sore," Rybbo floated above his wielder, looking over him. Augusto's chest was red, especially in the middle where the yoyo had struck. He felt an immense throbbing on his lower and upper back, shifting in bed. All his energy had been sapped, use to deal with the pain. He used his arm to cushion himself further on the pillows. Soon enough, he fell into a deep sleep.

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Rybbo, The Tiger Kwami

Mini-POV

Rybbo watched his wielder fall asleep, lifting the blankets and covering the slumbering teen. He was becoming fond of Augusto, as he was one of the few Tigers he had ever had that hadn't turned to greed with their newfound powers. He was a shy kid, from what Rybbo could gather. What he liked was that, since he was a teen, his mind still wasn't fully formed, therefore susceptible to influence. He never intended to influence him maliciously, and he promised himself he'd never do that.

His personalities were already starting to mesh with the more confident Tigers before him, along with Rybbo's instincts and the agility and powers of the tiger Miraculous. Rybbo could semi-control what flowed into Augusto's mind, acting as a sort of floodgate or filter, letting the good in and keeping the bad out.

The next phase of his plan would come soon. He had been lonely these past few centuries, only he company of a wielder by his side. He would be lying if he said he wasn't slightly envious of the original kwamis, as they could rely on each other. He had no one. But he would make sure that wouldn't last long. He had taken a few pages from the guardian book on how to forge the other Miraculous in his own strain. The first one up was the wolf Miraculous. He quickly pushed that to the back of his mind.

The tiny tiger kwami grinned at the form of the boy, then zipped out the door and down into the kitchen. "Hello, Rybbo. It is good to see you again," Elianos smiled. Rybbo started to purr, fond memories of his former wielder flooding his inflated head. "Do you need food to recharge?" Elianos asked, gesturing with his head towards one of the pans holding a smoked tilapia. At this, Rybbo's mouth started to drool.

"Yes, please!"

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Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Ladybug

19:05

"Marinette," Marinette glanced up at the small red kwami, in a daze at her own thought-gazing for the past couple of minutes. "You'll be late for the party!" Tikki alerted her. "What!?" she exclaimed, glancing at the clock. Sure enough, it was time for the get-together at the new student's house. What was his name? August? No… Augusto! That was it. Marinette had always felt kind of bad for him, since he seemed to do anything in his power to avoid talking to people. She never took it personally, as she had heard that he was a transfer student from South America and that he was extremely anti-social.

She hopped down from her bed and onto her room's floor, pocketing a couple of chocolate chip cookies for Tikki, ushering the red kwami into her purse. The god obliged, seeming back to her old self again. Marinette slipped on her shoes, pulled on her jacket, then opened the hatch that led to the second flood. She practically slid down the ladder, landing relatively gracefully on the floor, racing towards the stairs. She went down the banister, not bothering to actually step down; no, no, no. That would take too much time. She hit the ground, losing her balance and nearly headbutting into a door. Before that catastrophe could happen, she managed to catch herself on the door frame, head inches from the wood of the door.

She quickly uprighted herself, just as her parents opened the door. "There you are, Marinette!" exclaimed her father, moving aside, "Hurry up; you'll be late for the event."

She gave her parents quizzical look; they always supplied her with food from the bakery when she went out. "Mr. Vega has made enough food to feed the whole school, so I doubt you'd be hungry there," grinned her mother. "Alright, by maman, papa!" Marinette gave her farewells, kissing them both on the cheek and hustling out the door. She was going to be later than late!

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She finally arrived at the directions specified in the Email. She had known his uncle, who he was currently living with, was a well-known lawyer, but she hadn't guessed how well-known. The house was fairly large, about half the size of her school, and it was made of beige bricks in typical Parisian fashion. She stood there, ogling the beautiful house for a minute, absorbing it's beauty before the door opened to reveal Mr. Vega.

"Hello there!" his Italian accent was thick, but not unpleasant. His voice was incredibly smooth and seemed to hold a smile behind it. "Marinette, I presume?" he asked. He was wearing a grey turtle-neck with business pants and loafers. "Er, yeah!" agreed Marinette, her mind still stuck on the house. "Come on in!" he ushered the teen into the house. It was definitely a get-together, as around ten people were in. She spotted Nathaniel, Rose, Juleka, and Max.

"Hey, girl!" a voice called to her, and she turned to see Alya and Nino hanging by a table set with what looked like traditional Italian foods, much of it containing fish or meat. Nino was chowing down on something that looked like salmon covered in lemon and greens, while Alya was holding a plate with what looked like a steak-pizza. "Hi, Alya!" Marinette greeted, ogling the delicious-looking foods. "Have you tried the shrimp? They're delicious! It's like a buffet in here!" laughed Alya, gesturing to the wide array of foods available.

Mr. Vega chuckled, folding his hands behind his back, smiling. "Marinette, why don't you go get Augusto? He hasn't come down yet," suggested Mr. Vega, his eyes laughing at the scene in front of him. "Uhm… sure!" Marinette agreed, a small part of herself scolding the rest for not grabbing a bit to eat. "Go up the stairs; his room is the third one on the left," he directed, gesturing towards a grandeur staircase against the wall going upwards, mimicking the likes of the Titanic and such.

She walked up the staircase, taking everything in. The building had been furnished in a cross between Renaissance Italy and Victorian England. A red carpet, like the one you'd see in a princess movie, ran along the length of the hallway floor with intricate swirling patterns on it. The lower walls were adorned with mahogany panels, matching the floor, while the upper walls were red with a symbol she couldn't recognize. She instantly saw the door Mr. Vega was talking about. She walked up to it, seeing that it was open just a creak. She walked right on in, forgetting to knock, and was surprised at what she saw. There, he was sleeping, nothing on from the waist up except for a plain grey armband, on his bed, his right hand used to cushion his hand and the left at his side. He breathed gently and slept peacefully. Her face grew incredibly hot, as she tried to look around the room. Anywhere but the sleeping boy on the bed. She couldn't describe why, but he seemed so familiar. But every time she asked herself, her mind become fuzzy and unfocused. She then tried busying herself by looking at his room. It was fairly nice, to be honest. Much larger than hers. His bed was up against the wall, on a small sort of pedestal. A desk was at its feet, with the lamp still on and a whole pile of papers stacked on top.

Beside the head of the bed, there was an almost identical desk, except it had a computer that wasn't turned on. It looked like one of the late models; it must have cost at least 5,000 bucks. There was a carpet in the center with Victorian-like designs, ranging from lions to the same strange symbol. There was a sort of mini-chandelier, though not quite as expensive, dangling from the ceiling. She took one step forward, immediately tripping over the edge of the carpet. She tumbled onto the floor, making a grunting sound. Abruptly, the boy snapped upwards.

"Who's there!?"

AN: This is the best that I can do, as it's fucking 6 in the afternoon and I spent the whole day previous to this chapter working on school. So after I finished uploading this, I'm gonna take a nap and probably not wake up for the whole fucking week.