A/N: Well, this chapter kinda wrote itself up. One moment I had a blank page and a rough outline and the next I had three quarters of it drafted up. There's quite a lot that goes on in this chapter. I apologise in advance for my wild imagination. Like seriously, I do apologise. I also apologise for the horrible cliches about to come out (ABOI will always be about the cliche it seems...)
The word count for this chapter is a bit insane (7,000) so feel free to take timeouts. Like I said I got carried away. Nevertheless, I hope you all enjoy the fruits of my labour my lovelies.
Till next time,
D.L.D
Chapter 17: Shooting Stars
Chat Noir
That was too close. Much too close for comfort.
Tension had not at all dissolved between himself and Ladybug, despite Rena Rouge's obvious despair. Too tight, too terse, too alert, they were too hardwired with adrenaline to truly absorb much of their outside surroundings. Gleaming in the rain, his baton was still extended, ready for anything within the dark palm of his hand. Just as wary, Ladybug kept a firm grip on her yo-yo, the paleness in her face replaced with a tight jaw.
"I'm really sorry for that," Again Rena Rouge apologised, remorse sitting within her hazel eyes. Her own weapon, a flute, remained strapped to her back. Instead her fists were balled at her sides, black fingertips digging into her orange palms. "I didn't know that it was you two. Vixen - she... she messed with my head and split Carapace and I up."
Now those certainly could be the truth. There was nothing that said that Rena Rouge was automatically a liar. Carapace was absent; she had just attacked Ladybug - her own ally and best friend. Vixen, this new akuma, could definitely have the ability to mess with people's perceptions of reality. Abilities like that certainly were a trait of Lila's, a recurring theme in her constant reprisals as one of Hawkmoth's akumas.
Chameleon, Volpina: they held a common theme. Illusions were her specialty - in every aspect of her life. Why would this time be any different? Alya's phone call already indicated that she was far more powerful this time, far more capable of dealing harm. That could still be true.
"Something's wrong," Was all that Ladybug could say. Looking around, scanning for the enemy, it was obvious that she wasn't letting her guard down. "I feel like there's something waiting."
"I'd love to say you're wrong," Chat Noir murmured, still focused on the area they had just emerged from. Foggy, almost mist-like, it had become a distorted haze - even to his eyes that were capable of seeing through the gloom. "But something's definitely off."
Could she read his mind? Surely, that must be a thing between them because she nodded toward Rena Rouge and Chat Noir could find himself nodding with her. Rena Rouge without Carapace, her assigned partner in their buddy system? Definitely not right. Alya wouldn't leave behind a teammate. If she got separated from Carapace, Rena Rouge would retrace her steps and find a way to get him back.
Yet here she was, tears in her eyes, fists balled and staring ahead. Almost as if she knew where the akuma was hiding, cloaked by the rainfall and clouds of opaque mist.
All around them, there was nothing from any direction. Apart from the sharp howls of wind and the occasional audible breath, there wasn't a single sound. Unusual for a city. Not natural for a city. All of the dim lighting surrounding the area didn't exactly help either of the two heroes much. If anything it made them more alert, more on edge, careful eyes skimming the border of shadows. Back to back, they stood, eyes darting all over the place, making sure that the akuma couldn't get the upper hand.
Then came Carapace, an injured mess as he emerged from the gloom, shield held up over his head. Flaming arrows were burning - despite the rain - and crimson blood rushed from a gash on his head. All of his green outfit was wet, glittering with rainwater like freshly watered plants. Beneath that bright, glittering green was a stern frown and hardened brown eyes. Even beneath the goggles, anyone could tell that he had just emerged from a battle.
"Carapace!" Ladybug rushed toward him, always being one for empathy.
Not far behind was Rena Rouge, just as concerned and flustered as she stumbled over her feet, "What happened?"
Only Chat Noir lingered behind, still scanning the area - still skeptical of the burning arrows. Rain was meant to cancel fire. Flaming arrows couldn't possibly burn within a rainy night like tonight unless they were an illusion. Unless the rain itself was an illusion. But if they were true... if the rain was an illusion, if they arrows were an illusion, what wasn't an illusion? What was truly real in a world crafted by so many fake images?
"Vixen," Carapace spoke and in that moment he detransformed. Overwhelming green light, then there was Nino. A swollen lump on his forehead, bruising around his eye. Wayzz floated beside him, awfully pensive as he shook his head.
"Nino?" Rena Rouge was the first to crumple, falling to her knees as she collapsed at his side. Tears raced from her eyes, melding with the rain once more. "Why didn't you tell me! Why didn't you say- "
"You never asked," A groan as his laughter rippled in the air. Clearly he was a lot more injured on the inside than he appeared to be on the outside.
"Ladybug," Wayzz spoke now, his gaze directed toward the leader of the group. "This new akuma is much more powerful than those before it. I fear that Hawkmoth has fed her with part of his own power."
"His own power?" Ladybug echoed. Subconsciously, she bit into her lip, glancing away from all watching eyes. Crumbling, she was quaking under the pressure and no-one could see it. Panic was building, the uncertainty rising with every second. Soon, if left unmentioned, her entire system would be shut down. Like a switch had been flipped, like a light snuffed out in a second, she would not function at all. Not a single bit.
But could only he see that? Could Chat Noir see how much this was affecting Ladybug?
Perhaps so. Rena Rouge, absorbed in her own feelings, was sobbing as she wrapped Nino into a hug. Wayzz, too preoccupied with recovering and telling Ladybug as much as he could, was too distracted to truly see what was going on. Only Chat Noir was available to absorb it all. Only he could truly see, fully witness, how each prolonged second of this ordeal was chipping away at her, the fine shards of control that were were shattering.
"It'll be ok," Chat Noir came to her side, squeezing her hand within his own. Cool, smooth, definitely the opposite of his own warm and clammy one, Ladybug's hands presented a false confidence that he knew she didn't have. As if the suit was trying to keep her in that confident, certain bravado. Turning to the other two heroes, Chat Noir raised a brow, "Carapace, you know where Vixen is now, right?"
"Yeah," Nino nodded, tipping the bill of his head. Rena Rouge was still by his side, supporting him with an arm. "I can show you guys."
"Are you sure?" Ladybug asked. Concern was evident within her blue eyes, as obvious as a full moon on a dark night.
"Certain," Nino affirmed, wiping away the fresh sweat upon his forehead. Even with the grin, the assurance that he would be alright, he couldn't hide the slight grimace at the pull of arm. There was bruising everywhere. There were signs of damage everywhere.
Nevertheless, he managed to transform and was Carapace once more, shield on his back and standing straighter than ever. Determination blazed within Nino's eyes. Pure determination, admirable determination, that Chat Noir had seen time and time again over the years. Still, he held that determination within his heart. Determination still drove him to try and defeat Hawkmoth. But, above all, he had something more pressing driving his determination, something much more important.
"I am definitely going to land a good hit on her," Rena Rouge sniffed, a hand roughly wiping away the traces of sadness upon her face. Twitching, her arms shook as she tried to calm herself down. "I'm going to take her down."
"Easy there. You don't want to get too angry," Chat Noir warned, well-aware of how she felt. In the past there had been times where he had wanted to absolutely batter an akuma. When Ladybug had gained her first black eye; when she had broken her nose on duty; who could forget when she had knocked a tooth loose? Yes, there had been times. But anger, it didn't get you anywhere. At least not as a hero. "Hawkmoth might use that."
"He'd love to be able to," Rena Rouge let out a mad bark of a laugh.
There was no getting through to her. Not right now. So instead Chat Noir could only hope that it wouldn't end too badly, that she would calm down with a few moments to herself. But he should have known better: anger left to simmer will only ever boil over.
Ladybug
Before the true battle had even began, she had nearly been taken out. That was the only thought that rang through Ladybug's brain as her yo-yo spun, wrist rotating at the speed of light as she defended herself. Before the true battle had even began she had already displayed a weakness. Before the battle had began. Before the battle had began. Before-
Flaming hot, an arrow ricocheted off her yo-yo, ash and sparks of flame bouncing toward her skin. Really that should have been the big warning sign. With the ominous warning from the kwamis, the rising tension with Lila, as well as Hawkmoth's prolonged silence, Ladybug should have anticipated this. This akuma was not an ordinary akuma; this akuma was not 'just another person' targeted by Hawkmoth. No. Lila had been vetted. Lila had been waiting. Lila had been chosen.
This wasn't a typical akuma: it was a vengeful girl who knew her true identity.
Trust didn't run too deeply between the group currently. For the entire journey here, the tension had been palpable. Rena Rouge and Carapace were kept at an arm's length, traveling ahead in their pair. Ladybug had lingered behind with Chat Noir, mostly silent as they shared a few looks or simply said nothing at all.
"I don't like the feeling of this," Chat had told her, lips pressed as he stared ahead, hands tight around his baton. If he wasn't wearing gloves she would have seen the tension in his knuckles, white spots of strained ligaments.
"I know," Had been Ladybug's response. With a sigh, she had launched her yo-yo farther ahead, "But Lila doesn't know who Carapace is. Even we didn't know that."
"But don't you think... it all seems way too convenient?" Looking into her eyes, Chat Noir had seemed to be pleading with her. Pleading for an answer.
Really, she had thought the same as he did. Trust was something that didn't come easily for her. Letting others into her inner circle, breaching all protective layers, was never something Ladybug had been particularly skilled with. When working in a team, trust was the key thing. Trust was what kept a team going, kept them working seamlessly together. If she had showed distrust in that moment then everything could have gone wrong.
"It does," Ladybug had admitted, her own lips pressed into a grimace. "But I know Rena Rouge. We both do."
"But that doesn't mean that we know it's her."
Yes, that didn't mean that they knew it was her. But, back then as much as right now, they couldn't afford to show distrust. Especially now, in the middle of a battle, flaming arrows raining down from the rooftops like dying stars racing across the cosmos. One slip up could cost them their lives. One wrong misstep and they could all end up dead, charred bodies scattered on the Parisian roads like the discarded carcasses of battles fought long ago.
Still spinning her yo-yo, Ladybug knew that they had to break through this assault. Defending themselves from the arrows was not a permanent solution. Staying stuck here would only make them tired and vulnerable and susceptible to a surprise attack. Years of fighting akumas had taught Ladybug that much. Years of experience had made her quite good at flipping a difficult situation right on its ugly head.
Scattered about, separated, all of the heroes were situated in different spots around the green. Right in the centre, like the main attraction, was Ladybug. Toward the front was Rena Rouge, furious as she spun her flute and relaunched the arrows back at the rooftops. Carapace was providing cover, his shield blocking each flaming arrows from both of their bodies. Then Chat Noir, toward the back, baton gleaming silver like the moon as he slowly advanced toward her.
What Ladybug needed to do was get them all together, concentrate them and use combined efforts to push forward. Rena Rouge could relaunch the arrows. Carapace was perfect for defense. If she could utilize that, could get herself and Chat Noir close enough, this battle could be over and done with within seconds.
"You got an idea yet?" Chat Noir, right beside her. Baton still spinning, no doubt killing his arms, he glanced at her, green eyes reflecting the bright amber spark of the flames. "I don't think we can keep this up."
"I know," Ladybug responded, staring ahead. Looming straight back was the foreboding frame and shadow of Paris' number one attraction: the Eiffel Tower.
Why was it that most villains chose the Eiffel Tower as their grand finale? Tacky, extremely tacky, it was to choose that location. Just about every cliche echoed from the tower of centuries old metal - including that of Victorian stereotypes and epic, Gothic take-downs often done on castle rooftops or towers. Beauty and the Beast definitely was one example. So was the ending from a movie produced years ago about a human-sized flea.
"I think I have an idea," Chat Noir spoke, oddly breathless.
"Go ahead," Ladybug nodded. She sounded breathless too. What was up with the oxygen supply?
Oh yes, there was a fire. Sprouting around the border, fueled by the stray arrows, flames were beginning to roar around them. Dark smoke, choking smoke, was filling the air now, curling in the air as the wind carried it about the city. Just what they needed on top of everything else - a bloody fire.
"If we get under the Tower, we should be fine," Chat Noir offered, nodding toward the untouched patch of concrete beneath the tower. Fire free and arrow free, the perfect place to maintain cover and begin their advance of the akuma. Of course it would be no easy feat to get that far - far from easy - but if they could get that close, could get that chance to take a break, then it would well worth the expended effort.
"That's a good idea," Ladybug nodded. Now that he had mentioned it, she could see the frameworks for a decent plan. "You think you could mimic what Rena Rouge is doing?"
Tilting his head, Chat Noir stared at the heroine ahead. A hoarse roar in the distance, cloaked by the pelting rain and blaring sirens, Rena Rouge continued to launch counter-attack after counter-attack. Four arrows shot, eight returned. Caught on her flute and then launched back, with a technique almost paramount to an expert, she kept taking out the decoys set about the surrounding area. However, just as quickly, they kept being replenished.
Nevertheless, Chat Noir caught onto the technique. He could probably attempt to try it. If he would succeed - well, that was another question entirely. Although similar to Rena Rouge's weapon, his own baton lacked the lightness hers had. His was dense, filled; hers was hollow and light. That hollow quality made it easier for her to launch the arrows.
"I can give it a shot," Chat Noir nodded. Now he was definitely feeling the pressure amp up, just like the growing flames.
Not wanting to distract him - or herself - Ladybug didn't say anything. Instead they waited for the next opportunity, yo-yo spinning and baton waiting. Then, in an instant, the arrows were shot back, clearing the path ahead for a second.
"Ok," Ladybug smiled, glad that it had worked out and had worked the first time round. Part of her would never forgive herself if Chat Noir was set on fire because of her. "Since we know that works now we can try and advance together."
Plan developed, they set it into motion. Every few seconds, instead of Rena Rouge's every second, Chat Noir launched the arrows back. Ladybug provided them both cover. Once they path ahead was clear, they scrambled forward. Along the way Carapace caught on and managed to keep Rena Rouge advancing with him. Until... well, there was nowhere else to advance because a wall of fire blocked their way, roaring and screaming with the wrath of a thousand exploding molecules.
"So how do we beat fire?" Rena Rouge asked, her agitation obvious - almost like the heat of the fire.
"We're going to have to go over it," Ladybug sighed. They were blocked all around, the fire spreading from the arrows thanks to the lack of heroes sending them back. Great flames burned against the midnight skyline, arcing and bending with the violent breeze as they spread dark smoke into the air.
In the end, they had to do it on the count of three. One. Get ready. Two. Calculate how high you'd have to go. Three. Off you go, over the flames, scorching the tips of your toes or fingers as you went, prickling pain radiating all over.
Fire was never a pleasant experience - even with the super suits. Fire was something that even the kwamis couldn't protect against, the enemy being one of natural means instead of magical means. All burns gained as Ladybug were burns sustained by Marinette. Any close encounters with fire could very well be the end of her life if she wasn't very careful.
Thankfully they all made it over, a smokey, sooty mess of heroes and ashes as they broke through the towering flames. No-one had gotten too close. Everyone had managed to calculate the jump well - thankfully the worst injury being a set of ribs from a barrel roll onto the cold, harsh ground. The cold, harsh, dry ground. An odd thing, really. If it was raining then the ground should be wet here. Unless...
Frowning, Ladybug touched the concrete beneath her. Chills radiated up her spine but her hand came back dry. Dry as a summer's day.
"It's dry here," Ladybug stated, her skepticism evident as she stared at her hand. Illusions seemed to be a key part of Vixen's powers. Clearly she had some sort of ability to dictate how parts of an area around her worked.
"Her powers are linked to distortion," Rena Rouge managed to get out, glaring sharply above. Only shadows and gloom could be seen, a winding staircase that definitely hadn't been there before winding up the inside of the Tower's frame.
"That means we need to be careful," Carapace also frowned, his shield held close as he eyed the area around them. "Anything could be waiting for us."
That went without saying anything. With any akuma - with anyone who showed a high level of premeditation and purpose - the heroes had to be more careful. Taking risks often led to making a mistake and making a mistake could lead to failing. Above all else, they couldn't fail. Failing was the last thing that Ladybug could do because failing meant dying and dying meant handing the miraculous over to Hawkmoth.
More wary than ever, Chat Noir was remaining by the fire. Staring into the flickering flames, almost as if he suspected that they were not real, he was studying them. Almost as if he were considering testing that theory.
"You guys go ahead," Ladybug nodded toward Rena Rouge and Carapace. Since they looked as if they needed the time to communicate between themselves, Ladybug would give it to them. If anything she needed the small breather to talk with Chat Noir anyway.
Taking Ladybug's offer, Rena Rouge and Carapace headed toward the staircase. Hesitant, Carapace placed a foot onto a step. Creaking the staircase gave a groan, supporting his weight and seeming to hold true. Unlike Rena Rouge's illusions, these ones could be touched - they could interact with the real world around them. Perplexing. Confusing. It only caused more alarm bells to ring within Ladybug's mind.
As the two other heroes disappeared up the staircase, Ladybug approached Chat Noir. Roaring, the wall of flames kept burning but no smoke came through to their end. At all. Not even the heat, the boiling, blistering heat, breached the border of the Tower's base. Another odd thing.
"Do you think it's real?" Chat Noir probed, baton in hand. Curious, he looked as if he wanted to prod the fire with his weapon.
"Probably not," Ladybug answered, just as curious as he was. But, like always, she was restrained. Curiosity called the cat, after all, and she would not rely on satisfaction to bring it back.
"It felt real," Chat added, turning toward her. Soot and ash was scattered in his wild blonde hair, smeared against his face in spots. No doubt she looked similar, her pigtails singed and the ribbons short from the arrows' debris. "It burned like a real fire."
"Are you afraid that none of us are real, Chaton?" Ladybug asked, staring at him with questioning blue eyes. Part of her would be hurt if he confirmed as much; another part would also wonder if he was right. If, like before with Mayura, she was a sentient copy - one made to be exactly like Ladybug without even knowing that she was the clone of the original.
"No," Chat Noir shook his head. Gently, hesitantly - as if he feared she would disappear beneath his touch - he reached a clawed glove toward her face. "You're definitely real."
Matching his own cheeky grin, Ladybug relaxed, "You had me worried."
"I always have you worried," Chat Noir responded. Winking he added, "It's part of the job, my lady."
"Is being an elevator also part of the job?" Ladybug hinted, nodding toward his baton. "I've never been a fan of stairs."
Extending his baton, Chat Noir scooped up the scarlet heroine, holding her with one arm and his baton with the other, "Top floor, madame?"
"The very top," Ladybug confirmed.
And up they went. Much faster than the average elevator (and definitely much more dangerous), they easily sped away from the bottom of the Tower. Although Ladybug would never feel in danger traveling with her partner in this way. No, he always put her safety first - a firm grasp on her side as he held onto his baton. Plus she could always just hop off, throw her yo-yo and save herself without worrying too much about it. But where was the fun in that?
Along the way they passed Rena Rouge and Carapace, both skipping a few feet with a large leap or running up a few flights. Part way up they had to stop, intercepted by the first floor and then by the second floor. Ladybug had wanted to check them off anyway - something about eliminating the possible hiding spots. Always willing to oblige her, Chat Noir hadn't objected. So they wandered the floors for a bit before meeting up to go up.
Now they were on the summit, hand in hand as they stared at the akuma before them.
Chloe Bourgeois, eye liner a dark sludge and a white strip of fabric tied over her mouth, was tied up in a tangle of limbs and rope. Bare and exposed, her legs kicked at thin air and flared the skirt of her night gown, contrasting the fluffy, dainty slippers that somehow still remained on her feet. Clearly, she had just been getting ready for bed. Desperation was on her features, filling her blue eyes with alarm, as gave a muffled cry of help to the heroes.
"Hold still," Vixen barked out, a foot being pushed into Chloe's face, crushing her cheek under its force. Wailing, the blonde was pushed to the ground, face squashed with dirty rain water as the akuma smirked, "I only need you for bait."
"Bait!" Muffled, Chloe's squawk was unmissable, definitely understandable. Maybe it was sheer luck, or even Vixen's own doing, that the white gag material slipped loose. "Bait! I am the mayor's daughter and Queen Bee, how dare you offer me as bait. This is ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!"
They had seen the heroes arrive. There was no way to miss how the team of four arrived on the summit, Rena Rouge the loudest of the quartet as she prepared to let out her wrath. But in the face of it all, cool and calm and calculated, Vixen was toying with them. Taunting her captive, playing with her prey just like a slithery snake, she was biding her time. Amusement was the number one tool in this situation; acting like she had the upper hand was her angle.
Picking up the wriggling Chloe, Vixen grinned, "How nice you all to join us."
Tense. All Ladybug could feel was tension as she gripped her yo-yo and watched the villain walk toward the Tower's edge, Chloe secure in her grip - for now. Only for now. After now was what none of them knew.
"Let her go," Chat Noir was the first to speak for once. Stepping forward, agitation evident in the set to his jaw and the grasp on his weapon, he was the first to bridge the gap. "Now."
"Why should I?" Surrounding them, Vixen's voice echoed. Madly. Blurring her own body, blurring Chloe's body, dozens of Vixens appeared, all standing around the edge and all holding onto Chloe Bourgeois with a taunting grip that threatened to send her plummeting down. Within her grasp Chloe whimpered, face pale with fear.
"Because you wouldn't want to do this," Ladybug stepped forward now. Because no-one, as terrible as people could be, ever wished to cause true harm. No-one really wished, really wanted, to kill someone in such a terrible way.
"Complete bullshit!" Vixen cried out, her features twisted with a horrible snarl. Almost like an animal, a feral beast, she let a growl slip past as she glared at the heroes - a dozen different women all embodying one. "I don't believe in that."
There was no getting through to her - now Ladybug could see it. Lila was lost in the storm of emotions that made up Vixen - or maybe Lila had truly been Vixen all along. Nothing truly human would be this lost; nothing truly human would deny believing in right or wrong. Being human depended on seeing right and wrong - whether your interpretation of right and wrong was warped or not. Every human had a moral code.
But Lila - Vixen - she seemed to lack one. Always breaking her own rules, going against her own word, Vixen was self-serving. Only her agendas truly mattered. Only her outcomes really mattered. There was no reasoning with someone like that.
Millions of seconds passed on that tower, wind whipping at their bodies like the foreboding signs of a torrid storm. Below, thousands of lights blinked away: peaceful lights, colourful lights, lights that spelled out neon messages across old brick buildings. Paris, beautiful, wonderful Paris, lit up like an intricate piece of art, decorated with thousands of glass stars that sparkled and glimmered under the dark night sky and its silver stars.
How many people down there truly knew what was going on? There were no helicopters scoping out the scene. All news outlets were nowhere to be seen, blocked out and kept back somewhere distant in the city. Aside from those who were up on the Tower - all clad in colourful, skin tight suits - who knew what was going on?
Who knew what would happen next?
"Looks like we're going to have a rematch," Vixen smirked at Ladybug, a cold coolness lighting up her eyes as she made the first move. Bold, brilliant, her teeth glinted in the silver moonlight as she dangled Chloe farther away from the sturdy platform. "And this time I'm going to win."
Instincts always did take over logic - in moments of panic. Dangling in the balance, helpless to her own demise, was Chloe. Nothing could happen to her; if she was injured - killed - then this battle would mark a dark day in the history of Ladybug and Chat Noir. Tonight would mark, for the first time ever, hoe they had failed to protect a civilian. Chloe, of all people, obnoxious, arrogant Chloe but still Chloe Bourgeois, a person. A real person.
"Don't!"
Caught by her arm, Ladybug stared back, eyes wide as she glanced back at her partner. Unreadable, not a trace of thought within them, Chat Noir was still. Clawed glove wrapped around her wrist, gaze focused on the smirking enemy ahead: he was calm, impossibly calm. Usually it was the other way around, Ladybug stopping Chat Noir from rushing headfirst into a terrible, horrible decision. But today...
Beneath her mask, Ladybug could feel hot tears rimming around her eyes. Everything was upside down.
"Let her go," Rena Rouge this time, teeth grit into a firm wall of white as she glared ahead. Poised in her hands was her flute, positioned and ready to be used. "You may be crafty but I've had a lot more practice with this sort of thing."
"Have you now?" Vixen cocked her head to the side, long brown hair spilling over her shoulder. An innocent giggle, light and bubbly and girlish, escaped her vermilion lips. "Why don't we test that theory?"
High pitched, grating against her eardrums, a wailing sound filled the air. Lights thinned and curled into swashing waves; dark night sky morphed into a brilliant blue canvas, speckled with stray clouds. No longer was the city around. No longer was there iron flooring and a squealing Chloe and a raging fire licking at the sides of the Eiffel Tower. No. Now there was a beach, a cliff edge, sharp grit rolling under Ladybug's feet as she stumbled.
"How does it feel to be all alone?" Vixen's voice. But where was she? In the distance? Floating under the cover of the clouds?
Scrambling to her feet (when had she dropped?), Ladybug stood up. Yo-yo at the ready, spinning in her quivering hand, the heroine pressed her lips as she surveyed her surroundings. Grey stones, rolling under her feet; waves crashing against a hard surface; a sky that carried the salty scent of brine and the echoing call of gulls: definitely a beach. Some kind of beach with chalk-white cliffs and grey stones. Not Paris.
Something was wrong. In her gut, in her soul, Ladybug could feel something was off. Something was missing. More colours, more people, right by her side and wearing equally confused faces. Yes, they were missing. Rena Rouge, Carapace, Chat Noir...
Where were they?
"I told you I wanted a rematch," Vixen, appearing from thin air, her staff long and elegant within her deft hands. Capturing all attention, controlling all attention, she seized the moment with her thing figure and wide grin, "And now we're going to have it."
There was no time for this! Not now. She had to find her teammates. Ladybug had to act, had to save the city, before something disastrous could happen. Before anything, anyone, could come to any true harm.
"Where are they?" Ladybug demanded, her voice a tough bark to hide the quivering nerves behind her muscles and joints. Spinning the yo-yo faster, stepping closer to the enemy, she narrowed her critical blue eyes. "What did you do?"
"Your friends?" Vixen questioned. Another tip of her head, fox ears bending as if she controlled them herself. In that moment Ladybug noticed the rectangular box dangling from her staff, dark and sleek and marked with curling, cursive L. "They're fine."
Believing Vixen was not a good idea. Believing anything that came from the mouth of a certified liar was never a good idea. After years of life experience, coupled with her time as a hero, Ladybug knew that much. Cold, hard truths were hard to fish from those who wanted to manipulate. People like Lila, people who became akumas like Vixen, only told the truth if they believed that it came with some kind of reward.
"Liar," Ladybug gritted out, line drawn both figuratively and literally in the dirt. There was no reasoning with her. There was no getting through to her.
Dust flew into the air as Ladybug made her move, darting as quickly as she could, yo-yo pitched toward the enemy. Quick, swift, accurate: that was the way she had always been before. Before all of this; before knowing who Chat Noir was; before everything had felt like a crushing pressure on her skull. But, it was before. Before everything else, before the present, before the now. And now was the moment that mattered most.
"I can assure you that I've told no lies, Ladybug," Vixen caught the yo-yo, tripping up the scarlet heroine as she stepped to the side. Chin sliding across the gravel, Ladybug hissed as she yanked her yo-yo back, glaring up at the snickering akuma. "You however..."
Voices. Oh so many voices. Young voices, old voices, voices of her family and classmates: every single kind of voice played in that wind. 'Marinette,' her mother, concern pressing into her features as she clasped her hands around her daughter's own, 'Talk to me'. Beside her was Marinette's father, equally as concerned as he glanced at his daughter, 'I feel like I barely know you anymore'. That day - a few months back - had been tough. Lying to them had been tough. But it was necessary. Every. Single. Time.
'You can't hang out again?' Alix - after she had flaked on her for the millionth time. They had been planning that day for a month now, hitting the best spots in Paris just so Marinette could help Alix crush her opponents in the next roller derby game. What really became of that promise? What became of that competition, so many days and years ago, faded into the back of her mind. 'I'm sorry' had been the immediate response, 'I have to work this weekend. I promise next time'. Next time never came.
We feel like we barely know you. All those lies, all those lines, drawn by her own panicking hand. All for the sake of peace - Paris.
"That's different!" Ladybug cried out, pushing herself up from the ground. Stinging burned her chin, warm dribbles of blood dotting her pale skin. Roughly, she wiped it away with the cool material of her suit. "You know that it is!"
"How so?" Vixen pressed, calm and cool like a fox taunting its prey. If she'd had a tail it would curling about her, stiffening into puffed fur as she glared. "You still stole dreams. You stole hopes, dreams, every single aspiration. But not just from them - from so many others - and what do they get in return, for behaving just like you?"
Pitching into nowhere, Ladybug's yo-yo hits nothing. Nowhere. Just thin, empty air.
"Name calling, bullying," Vixen continued, a venomous spit as she slipped around, avoiding each and every desperate throw. "Always being labelled as the liar. I may be a liar, Ladybug, but look in the mirror. Who have you threatened? Who have you embarrassed? And, lastly, just who have you lied to, right in their unsuspecting faces?"
Everyone. So many different people.
"It's different!" Ladybug insisted, trying to keep the tears at bay, to keep herself from cracking. Anger, sadness, muddled the brain. Getting her lost within her emotions was Vixen's plan. "I do it for good reason."
"Is that why you never tell the truth?" Vixen pressed, a simple flick of her staff. Backing Ladybug into a corner, looming over her with a menacing air. "Is that why you keep upsetting more and more people?"
Perhaps... But-
"You're just trying to get into my head," Shaking her head, Ladybug tried to remain calm. Yo-yo safe within her sturdy hands, body trembling like a leaf. Dull, a phantom thud echoed within her own brain - the throb of the injury left from the locker room. That had hurt. That was malicious. That... "But you know what, Lila?" A raise of the brow, a triumphant tip of her lips, "I don't care because really it just proves what you already are."
"What?"
"Someone who only exists to make other people's lives a pain," Ladybug grinned. Yes, that was something she knew - something true. Arm raised, she threw her yo-yo, winding the akuma up within its magical wire. "A spoiled, insignificant bully."
That moment was meant to be triumphant. Brilliant. But were Vixen's eyes always such a pure electric blue? Wide and blown into pinpoints, framed by glittery blue eyeshadow - those weren't her eyes. No, they were Chloe Bourgeois', full of panic and fear as Ladybug and she balanced on the edge of the Eiffel Tower, powerful winds whipping around them. Blonde hair waved like a final farewell, tangling in messy curls as the girl screamed.
"Chloe?"
"Ladybug!"
One swift movement, throwing their bodies into nothing before hooking her yo-yo onto a solid structure. There wasn't much thought to it - only the decision that balancing there in the powerful winds was not the true answer. Now they were here, dangling by a literal thread, right above the fanning flames. Hot, prickling heat danced in the air. Choking ash filled her lungs. Smoke, horrible smoke, burned at her eyes. But Ladybug had to remain firm. Had to remain certain, had to remain-
"And here we are again," Now she wasn't swinging, wasn't hanging onto Chloe Bourgeois. Fingertips clung to the edge of the Tower, joints burning with stiffness as adrenaline jellied her legs.
Still no-one was there. No Rena Rouge. No Carapace. No... Chat Noir. Was this another distortion? Another realm of fake reality used to distract her? Part of Ladybug wanted to believe so, wanted to dismiss the fire raging below her, the wind and rain whipping at her face, as something conjured from the imagination. But, really, she knew better. There would be no reason for Hawkmoth's outline to highlight Vixen's face, to illuminate her triumphant grin in a violet halo.
"Now I will take your miraculous," Vixen beamed, leaning over the struggling heroine with a devious look in her eye. "And be one step closer to eradicating your very presence."
Humming, literally oozing with excitement, the akuma stooped to gain her prize. Black gloves extended to Ladybug's ears, causing her to wiggle - as much as she could - away from the enemy. But it was futile. One firm hand, filled with agitation, gripped at her face, squeezing her cheeks with a bruising force and half-lifting her into the air, kept her still. Too still. One earring was already in reach, close to being taken off.
Panic was seizing her body. Pure panic, total panic - the sort that seized her lungs and made her a useless, bumbling mess.
"Please," A final plea, forced out of her windpipe as Ladybug stared at Vixen, tears filling her masked eyes. "Please don't."
For a moment there was hesitation. Something human, something soft, melted over Vixen's face like an ice pack on a summer's day. But only for a moment. One fleeting, temporary moment.
Bending down to Ladybug's ear, low enough for only her to hear, she hissed, "This is all that you deserve."
Maybe the shove had been intended. Maybe the painful sensation of a heel stomping onto her hand was exactly what Ladybug deserved. In that moment, gasping as she let go, pain firing through her hand, the heroine had a lot to think about. Beautiful hazel eyes, specks of browns lit up into greens as the fox-themed Rena Rouge cried out into the night. Vixen, equally as aghast, fox-like smirk gone. Then the fire, prickling her spine, tickling her scalp. Not even touching her yet but burning. Hurting.
Was it all real?
"Marinette!" Her name. Gorgeous green eyes tearing up at the corners, dancing with the patterns of the flames. Tight, his grip was tight on her wrist, trying his hardest to keep her there, to keep her from falling gravity's way.
Slipping - they were always slipping from each other's grasp. In this moment he was trying to hold on, no matter how much she was slipping, how much her grip would fail because her hand had been crushed by that clumsy heel. Painful, oh so painful, on both ends. Nerve-endings, heartstrings, everything in between: so much of everything hurt at once. So much was going wrong. So much was going askew. But what was most wrong?
"I've failed," Was what she wanted to sob out, tears falling from her eyes, voice hoarse from the scorching air. "I've failed you. I've failed everyone."
But even that couldn't be let out. Instead she just slipped loose, ribbons and suit burning up in a haze of pink light.
