Thurs, Sept 3rd, 2020
Alya looks at herself in the mirror. She puts her hair in a high ponytail as she examines her first day outfit hanging on the door: a long-sleeve plaid red and yellow button-up shirt and a pair of grey jeans.
Her maman, Marlena, landed the head chef job at Le Grand Paris Château so the whole family up and moved from Louisiana, North America to Paris, France.
Her papa, Otis, was filling out an application for a job at the zoo. Nora, her elder sister, traveled already for her kickboxing circuit so the move was no change for her. Likewise her little sisters, Etta and Ella, had no problem with moving because they hadn't started school yet.
Moving wasn't... necessarily a problem with her, all the friends she made in her old schools still communicated with her over video chats. Though it did suck when they had get-togethers she could only video chat to because she couldn't physically be there.
The family arrived in the city two days ago, just in time for the first day of the school year – Nora liked to remind her. Her maman was going to register her and if everything went well, she'd be starting school today too.
She puts on her lucky Knightowl undershirt then takes her first day outfit off the door and gets dressed.
Alya puts on her small silver hoop earrings and grabs her chapstick, lotion, and hand sanitizer putting them in her backpack's front pocket then grabs her notebooks, notepad, cell phone charger, and calculator stuffing them into her backpack. She puts on her Super Mackerel red and yellow socks then hoists her Knightowl backpack over her shoulder.
Marlena is on the phone but she waves her second-oldest over. While still talking on the phone, Marlena loosens some strands of Alya's hair so they fall around her face. She bids the person she's on the phone with goodbye then gives her daughter a thumbs-up. "Better."
"Thanks, Ma. I'm all set. What's my school's name again?"
"François Düpont." Marlena replies. "It's fairly new... less than a decade old, but rumored to be one of the best schools in the city." The orange-haired woman shrugs. "Seeing is believing. If you're all set we're off. Have to drop by my new job to check-in with slash meet the boss. They say the Bourgeois family is impossible to please and they go through head chefs like the latest fashion craze." Alya whistles.
"Don't worry, Ma, you got this. If they're the first people ever to fire Marlena Césaire, the whole world will know it's because of their incompetence not because of your inability to make some bomb ass food."
"I was fired from my first two jobs, you know."
"One was a racist clown who got their restaurant shut down because of you so that's a win, and the second fired you before you became Marlena Césaire. You were just some cook then. Bet they'll be taking the credit for your career taking off."
Marlena laughs cradling her daughter's face. "What would I do without you, My Light?"
"Have a lot more one-sided arguments."
"I know! Why are the twins so quick to jump to Otis' side when we disagree?"
After breakfast, they hop on Marlena's motorcycle and make their way to François Düpont.
✍ ..
Marinette wakes up to the sound of her alarm. She looks around her room as much as she's able without actually moving. For some reason something feels... off. Groaning, she sits up and takes off her alarm. Her eyes widen as she stares at the time. "Oh crap! I'm late!" She jumps out of bed but her foot gets tangled into the sheet and she falls on her face.
"Marinette?" She hears her mother call from downstairs, "are you alright?"
Marinette slowly lifts her face from the floor, "yes!" She fights with her sheet until it relinquishes her leg. As she's gathering her stuff for the bathroom she pauses staring at the black mannequin in the corner wearing the red romper her nǎi nai gave her the design idea for. She barely managed to put on the finishing touches but it was good enough to wear. Frowning, Marinette glances at the outfit she already selected for her first day of quatrième: A red shirt with pink peonies on it and a pair of grey pants to match.
She shot up like a rocket over the summer, and had to get an entirely new wardrobe. Of course, that was an excellent reason for her to make herself some new clothes as well as buy some.
She grabs the romper and takes it with her as she carefully climbs down the stairs and heads to the bathroom.
After showering, brushing her hair, brushing her teeth, and getting dressed she bolts back upstairs and hits her head on her trap door. "What the hell? I could swear I left that open!" Frowning, she opens the trap door and enters her room. She sets her bathroom basket on her bed then crawls under her bed to grab the red ballet flats with the bow she sewn a snake into.
She hits her head on the bed then wriggles out from under the bed accidentally tossing the box in the air. Gasping, she dives for the box running straight into the mannequin with the clothing she was supposed to wear. The rest of her mannequins topple over and fall on her.
Her maman, Sabine, opens the trap door and gasps. "Oh dear. What—how did this happen?" Marinette flails underneath the mannequins looking at her maman trying not to laugh.
"I was grabbing my ballet flats when the box fell out of my hand then I bumped into one mannequin and the others fell on me." Sabine loses the battle to not laugh and chuckles as she helps her daughter up.
She tip-toes to pick out some loose threads out of Marinette's hair. Marinette gasps then looks down at her outfit. "Turn around." Sabine instructs. Marinette does a 360-degree turn then faces her maman. "All good." Sabine hums, "You know, I've never seen this outfit before. I mean I'm always in awe of your clothes but this is so beautiful. When did you make it?"
"When nǎi nai visited. She helped with the snake. It's so much harder to stitch together a dragon's head than its whole body. Snakes were less detailed so I made that instead. I'm gonna take a picture wearing this—"
"With your hair like that?"
Marinette helplessly lifts her hair falling over her shoulders. "What should I do with it?"
"Let's try something new. Have a seat and..." They both look around the room before staring at each other, "come downstairs and I'll do your hair. I know the school is the next block over but you really need to work on your time management."
"I know, māmā."
Sabine pats her daughter on the cheek before leaving through the trap door.
Marinette grabs her backpack then takes a step and winces. She hops on one foot then looks down at her broken lucky dragonfly clip and peels it off her foot. "Son of a bitch." She moans. "That's gotta be a bad omen." She shakes her head. "No. No, no, no. You're not gonna be bested by your clumsiness. This is your year Marinette Dupain-Cheng." She pumps her fists in the air sending her flats flying again. She manages to catch one but the other hits her in the head. "This is your year." She repeats, a little forced as she clutches her flats. "Focus on those positive vibes." Her bag snags on her desk. "Seriously!?" She tugs her bag free then completely misses the staircase and falls out of her room slamming into the wall. "Keep up that optimism." She murmurs sliding to the floor.
When Marinette regains consciousness her father is sighing pressing a bandage against her left cheek. "Are you okay?" He moves his pointer finger in front of her face from side to side, with their standard concussion regimen. "Seeing doubles?" Marinette shakes her head. "Any pain anywhere?"
"No. I feel fine." She winces as she feels her forehead stinging. Sabine sighs pressing a cotton ball into the bottle of disinfectant.
"You're gonna have a couple of cool scars to start off your year." Tom puts another bandage on her face, this time on her forehead.
Meanwhile, Sabine gets to work on styling Marinette's hair. She combs then parts Marinette's hair in two tying the ends into buns. She makes it look effortless compared to when Marinette does her hair. But that's natural considering her mother wasn't cursed with clumsiness. Marinette gets it from Tom; she also got her father's height and love of combat sports. From her mother she got her looks, no disrespect to her father but she's grateful for that, she also got her mother's critical eye for detail, and intolerance for bullshit.
It was Sabine's mother, Xiùlán, who instilled Marinette's love of fashion. Watching all sorts of fashion competitions with her. Even having them sew and work on clothing together. Even after they left Shanghai to come to Paris nearly a decade ago, Marinette and Xiùlán always found a way to stay in contact and never miss any fashion competitions. Speaking of her grandma, she needs to send her that picture of her outfit – preferably before Marinette ruins it.
"You're good to go." Tom reports eyeing the box on the counter. Marinette follows his movement and stares at the box with the boulangerie pâtissèrie's new logo on it – the logo they asked her to design. It's a simple S & T then a BP in cursive written in a heart-shaped pâtissèrie and they went nuts over it.
Right. For the past two years attending François Düpont, she carries a box of pâtissèries for her classmates on the first day, and for the past two years the school's "queen bee" Chloé Bourgeois – the mayor's daughter and an all-around spoiled pain in the ass, who for some inexplicable reason decided, when they first met, she wanted to make Marinette's life a living hell – makes some snide comment about her parents shop even though she'll eat from there no problem. Then Marinette, in turn, will make a (correct) comment about the blonde's appalling fashion sense, which is all kinds of wrong as she's the daughter of Audrey Bourgeois: The Queen of Fashion. They'd glare at each other and Chloé would make some meaningless threat then pout for the rest of the school day. Why Principal Damocles kept putting them in the same class for two years in a row she has no idea? Probably because she's the only student who won't take the blonde's crap. Marinette honestly wouldn't be surprised if this year was unlucky number three and she and Chloé were in the same class again. As long as they don't get Professeur Clark again this year. Marinette heard the man became a quatrième professeur because the Bourgeois' had him in their back-pocket and he heavily and obviously favored Chloé which Marinette wouldn't stand for. It ended up with her spending a lot of days in the principal's office doing nothing. Because Damocles damn sure wasn't gonna speak out against Chloé's family.
"How about breakfast?" Sabine suggests. "We have some cheese danishes fresh from the oven."
"Or banana fritters." Tom waggles his eyebrows, "wanted to have your favorites ready and waiting."
"Sorry māmā, gotta go with the fritter." Tom moves to pump his fist in the air but accidentally punches himself in the forehead.
"What am I gonna do with you two?" Sabine chuckles.
Marinette grabs a fritter and stuffs half in her mouth then slips her bag over her shoulder and slips in her ballet flats. Sabine hands her the box. "Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to get these pâtissèries to François Düpont." Tom says.
"You can count on me, Mission Control." The fritter slips out of Marinette's mouth and lands on the box. Her parents stare at the box then at their daughter. She chuckles awkwardly, "I... probably shouldn't talk."
Sabine puts the fritter back in her daughter's mouth. "Have a good day." She nods mumbling her goodbyes as she leaves the shop.
Tom sighs, "that box isn't gonna make it to the next block."
"Nope."
"Why oh why did I have to give her my clumsiness?" Tom bends down to pick up a crumb off the floor but he ends up hitting his head on the bottom counter.
Sabine chuckles then rubs her husband's back. "Let's put some ice on that."
Marinette makes it to the crosswalk but that's not really much of an accomplishment given it's three steps from the shop. She grimaces at the heavy foot-traffic heading in her direction once the light changes. She barely manages to make it to the other side of the street, with not only herself but her box intact. With a sigh of relief, she turns to catch her breath and notices the tiny bespectacled old man struggling to cross the street with his cane.
He managed to avoid colliding with anyone but he won't make the light. Marinette heads over to him mumbling incoherently forgetting about the fritter in her mouth. The old man looks up at her in confusion until she gestures – box in hand – toward the other side of the street.
The guy gets the memo and nods hooking onto her arm so he can cross.
Before they cross the street a navy towncar pulls up dangerously close to the curb and Marinette pulls the guy out of the way accidentally tossing the box in the sky. She looks up and gapes causing the fritter to fall out of her mouth, and it hits the ground. Groaning, the teen facepalms.
The towncar's back door opens, before the chauffeur can reach it, and Chloé (because of course it's Chloé) steps out of the towncar in a sunny yellow plain a-line dress. "Oh it's... whoa." Scowling, she shakes her head. "You hit a growth spurt, huh? Doesn't matter. You're still you. Watch where you're going, Dupain-Cheng, or I'll have my chauffeur hit you next time."
The blonde flips her ponytail haughtily then walks into the boulangerie pâtissèrie.
Marinette's right eye twitches. "That bit—" The old man clears his throat holding out the box to her. "B—wha?!"
"They fell into my hand. Unfortunately, I could not save whatever you were eating."
Marinette looks down at the fritter on the ground and sighs, "I'll just mourn my fritter when I get to school." She shakes her head, "what matters is you being okay. You're okay, right?"
The old man nods with a smile. "Me? I'm fine. I appreciate your assistance."
"You're the one that assisted me, keeping these from the same fate as my fritter." She opens the box and offers it to the man. "Go ahead and take a few. My parents pâtissèries are gluten-free thanks to my allergy." She jerks her head back, "that's their shop. These look like their mint chocolate chip and coffee macarons."
The man takes one and bites into it moaning appreciatively, "they're delicious."
"They'll be happy to hear that." He grabs two more macarons. "If you're ever looking to satisfy your sweet tooth you know where to go, they also make savory pâtissèries and we got a custom thing going on."
"I'll take you up on that offer."
Marinette closes the box, "let's see if we can make it across the street without a wayward towncar this time."
"Here's hoping." The old man hooks his arm in Marinette's and they cross the street when the light changes.
"Do you need help getting anywhere in particular?"
"Oh no. This is more than fine. My destination is up the street and there are no more crosswalks to contend with. No need to worry yourself over an old man like me."
"If you're—" The bell rings and Marinette gasps looking toward the school. "Sh—uh... uh, crap." She winces rubbing the back of her neck then juggles the box of macarons sighing in relief when she doesn't drop them.
"I suppose that's you're cue."
"Sounds like it. Take care of yourself."
"And you as well." He watches the teen run toward the building. The man turns around eyeing the blonde exiting the boulangerie pâtissèrie glaring at him as she puts the sunglasses on her head over her eyes getting into the towncar. The towncar passes by him as it makes its way to the school, stopping at the end of the block.
Hmm. He finishes the macaron in his hand. He could use another pâtissèrie or two, but later.
If his hunch about the magic he's been sensing was correct, he'll be visiting this shop a lot more in the future. He turns back to the school and starts walking.
Marinette runs up the stairs and as she reaches the door it opens; she narrowly avoids getting hit but loses her balance if it weren't for the arm that shoots out and grabs hers she and the macarons would be sprawled out all over the stairs. "Whoa! Are you okay?" An unfamiliar voice asks.
She opens her eyes nodding and squints at the blond, "yeah, thanks. You saved my as—carons."
"Adrikins!" Chloé's shrill ear-drum piercing scream makes Marinette shudder. Then Marinette hears Chloé's bodyguard of the week yell after her. The blonde marches up the stairs then glares daggers at their joint hands. "Adrikins, don't touch that, you'll get the clumsy all over you." She wrenches Marinette's arm free and takes the box of macarons. "I'll be taking these. They're in much better hands than yours." Without the blond's support, Marinette flails backwards and the green-eyed blond moves to grab her again but Chloé grabs his arm hooking it with hers. "Come along, Adrikins, I'll show you around the school. Not there's much to really look at."
"B-But what about—"
"Don't worry about her. This is the norm."
The blond winces as the blue-haired girl flails backwards. He sighs in relief when someone runs up the stairs to catch her. The last thing he sees is the brunet setting the blue-haired girl upright before the doors close behind them.
"Good thing I got here when I did, huh? See Chloé's already up to her shit this morning."
"Yeah but I'm not gonna let her get to me this year, Kim."
"Atta girl!" Kim claps her on the back, "does this mean we're stooping to her level?" He rubs his hands together and chuckles darkly.
"I don't think we could physically stoop to her level of petty. Besides, we're better than that."
"That may be so but we don't always have to be! C'mon, I know there's a part of you that's itching to give her some just desserts. Speaking of desserts..."
"Chloé took my box."
"Oh hell no. We gotta get it back. She'll get her Chloé germs all over your parents grub!" Kim wraps an arm around Marinette's shoulder, "by the way, I had the most kickass idea for you and Alix's birthday cake."
✍ ..
Fù lost track of how many students passed by him without so much as a second glance as he leaned against school crossing sign struggling to reach the cane he dropped. As he resigns himself to not finding a Miraculous wielder, a black beetle stops in front of the curb.
Fù watches the tiny blue-haired girl gracefully exit the car closing the door behind her. The girl is wearing a pair of black jeans and a black and grey horizontal stripped shirt. She looks around the area then her brown eyes fall on him. Hoisting her backpack she makes her way over.
She wordlessly picks up his cane then digs in her bag to pull out a roll of black athletic tape. She wraps the tape around the cane Fù hadn't even realized was cracked then tests the cane by tapping it on the floor a few times before handing it to him. "This should suffice."
"Ah. That's... ingenious. I had no idea it was even broken." He accepts the cane and puts some of his weight on it. "Thank you."
"No problem. May I ask for your assistance with something?" Fù nods, "this school... what is the name of it?"
"I believe it's François Düpont. Is this not the school you were looking for?"
The girl shakes her head, "I'm looking for Paris International School of Arts."
"Oh. Oh dear. I believe that's in the 3rd arrondissement."
"And where is this...?"
"The 21st, but don't worry. I believe that's about a fifteen minute drive—" Fù watches the beetle drive off, "from here." He finishes. "As you are already here, it may not hurt to go inside this school?"
"I suppose. I must inform my grandmother the automatic driver may need recalibrating." She bows, "thank you for your help."
Fù bows back. "You helped me first. I'm simply paying your kindness forward."
The girl nods then heads up the stairs. When she reaches the top stair she pause then turns to Fù, "will you be alright?"
"Yes. I will be more than fine. Thank you." Nodding, she walks into the building.
✍ ..
"What do you mean he left?!" It takes everything in the blue-haired woman not flinch at the tone. "You're supposed to be keeping track of Adrien 24/7 and beyond that! What the hell are we paying you for if you're not gonna do your job!?"
"Émilie, Love, I understand your anger but yelling at Nathalie won't solve anything." The blonde huffs folding her arms over her chest. "Did he happen to say where he was going?"
"And why didn't you stop him!?"
"He said he was going to school and that Chloé Bourgeois would vouch for him."
Gabriel and Émilie exchange a glance, "'Chloé?'" They repeat. "School?" For some inexplicable reason, their son had become recently obsessed with teenage dramas. He claimed to want the "real teenage experience." Whatever the hell that mean. Admittedly, they ignored him – not once thinking Adrien would do anything behind their backs. So that's on them but Nathalie not trying to stop him was on her. Gabriel hired her seven years ago after Émilie found out she was pregnant. She was just supposed to stick around until the baby came but then Émilie had a miscarriage and the woman proved to be efficient as hell so she stuck around. If her efficiency was starting to slip she wasn't gonna of any use to either of them much longer.
"Find out what school Chloé attends, I'm sure that's the one Adrien snuck off to, and bring him back." The blonde pauses, "wait—on second thought. Don't bring him back. If we drag him back kicking and screaming he'll just rebel in another way." Gabriel gives his wife a questioning glance, "we don't want to seem unreasonable and we definitely don't want him resenting us. Find out what school he's in and check it out. If it's good enough for him, we let him stay. If it's not, we'll select a school for his caliber."
"I doubt Chloé would attend a school beneath her; Audrey would never allow it."
"Audrey may not know about it."
"True. With her absence, André could've just stuck Chloé in any school and called it a day." Émilie nods, "now, Love, I trust you implicitly – you know that, but the mere thought of putting Adrien in public schooling leaves a sour taste in my mouth."
"It is a terrible idea, I agree, but if that's what he wants who are we do deny him? He doesn't ask us for anything."
"He didn't ask for this either."
Émilie chuckles, "true. In any event, his tutors are always going on about he drifts off and always has his head in the clouds. Perhaps he won't be so inclined to do so in a proper school setting. And who knows? Maybe he'll get sick of school and come back to being home schooled?"
"Maybe..." Émilie shoos Nathalie. The woman bows then quickly walks off.
Émilie turns to her husband smiling, "most importantly, if Adrien isn't here aimlessly wandering he won't find out what we're up to."
"Fair point but we're doing this for him too. Shouldn't he know what we're doing?"
"No. It's bad enough he knows he'll never have a biological sibling naturally thanks to that big mouth doctor and my stupid body—"
Gabriel holds her hands, "never say never. It's why we found our Miraculouses. We're going to make our wish come true and have more children. Then Adrien will have everything he's ever wanted." Émilie smiles at him, nodding. "We should test them out, in the field. Our Miraculouses I mean. Practicing in the atrium only goes so far."
"Fine." The blonde playfully rolls her eyes. "Let's give it a shot." They walk hand-in-hand to the atrium. Émilie picks up the box on the pedestal and takes out the small lavender oval brooch putting it on her shirt's collar. A tiny lavender butterfly swirls into existence beside the brooch inclining its head.
"Greetings, Mme. Graham de Vanily."
She pats the butterfly on the head, "greetings to you too, Nooroo."
Gabriel opens his box on the pedestal and picks up the bronze feathered brooch and puts it on his shirt under his tie. A blue peafowl swirls into existence beside him spinning in the air. "Duusu, stop that."
"I can't help myself, M. Agreste~" The peafowl sing-songs, "all the love in the air has me feeling giddy!" Gabriel shakes his head with a sigh.
"Nooroo, wings rise."
"Duusu, spread the feathers."
The creatures float into their respective jewelry and the humans, holding hands, transform. Émilie is now wearing a lavender mermaid gown and a pair of matching lavender gloves that go all the way to her elbows. Her hair turns lavender and ties itself into a neat bun. A large black butterfly mask covers her entire face sans her mouth which gets painted lavender, and she grows translucent butterfly wings fluttering at her back. Lastly, she has on a pair of black heels. Gabriel turns blue and has a navy beret that has feathers flowing downward over his left eye and he's wearing a navy three piece suit and navy shoes with peafowl feathers in various shades of blue on his lower back. They turn to each other and kiss.
"Let's make our wish come true, Gabriel Dear."
"Let's, My Love."
Émilie holds her hand out and conjures a purplish-black butterfly. Beside her, Gabriel takes a feather off his fan and hands it to his wife where she puts the butterfly on. "My precious little akuma, use this feather to find a strong emotion to latch onto and wreck havoc on the city."
"If the book was right about the Miraculouses needing a Guardian, they'll show their faces when the city is in danger."
Émilie holds his hands, "I hope you're right."
✍ ..
"Alright Rose: Why are we skulking in the halls?"
"We're..." The blonde pauses for dramatic effect, "gonna start a band!" She exclaims. Ivan stares at her like she's grown a second head. "C'mon, you don't think it'll be fun?"
"Who wants to hear me sing?"
"Mylène might, for one—" Ivan blushes sputtering. "You don't have to sing if you don't want to. You can play an instrument! Rock out on the guitar like Jagged Stone! Think of all the battle of the bands contests we can get into!"
Ivan stares at Rose. Her expression isn't giving anything away which is odd because Rose is easily the most expressive person Ivan's ever met, and always has been. This could just be another fixation his best friend came up with on the fly. He honestly wouldn't put it past her. "We're gonna have a band..." He frowns, "with just two people?"
"W-Well, no—" Now Rose frowns then freezes. Ivan follows her movement watching a tall, purple-haired girl walk by with a guitar case strapped to her back. Once she's no longer visible, Ivan turns to Rose who shrugs with a sheepish smile.
Ah. "I see. How do you know she's not a solo act?"
"I don't!" Rose wails, "I've never seen her before which is odd because I'd remember spotting someone so beautiful! And the school's not really that big! I would've remembered."
"To be honest, Rose, she's kinda giving off a don't talk to me vibe."
"B-But, she's so beautiful!"
Ivan sighs shaking his head. "Admire her beauty from afar." Rose frowns. "Let's head to class. We have Professeur Bustier this year and I've heard nothing but good things about her."
"So have I!" Rose squeals. When Rose and Ivan enter their classroom there's a brunette standing by the professeur's desk looking around. "Hi!" Rose chirps. The brunette flinches then stares at the blonde wide-eyed. "Sorry for startling you."
"N-No problem. I'm Lila. I just moved to Paris this morning with my mamma."
"I'm Rose! And this is Ivan. Welcome to François Düpont!" Rose moves into greet her with a cheek kiss but freezes.
"Oh! You're going to give me the standard French greeting. Go ahead." Rose nods then she and the brunette cheek kiss. "I've read about the cheek kiss, but they don't do anything like that in Naples."
Rose tilts her head to the right, "Naples?"
Lila nods, "It's a city in Italy. I was born there and spent most of my childhood there too. Is there anything I should know about the school?"
"What do you mean?" Ivan asks.
"You know..." Lila lolls her head from side to side, "the social hierarchy. The most popular kids in school? The students to avoid?"
Ivan and Rose exchange a glance before turning to Lila. "Chloé."
"Huh?"
"Chloé Bourgeois is the answer to both of those questions." Ivan replies, "the latter more so than the former."
"Are my ears ringing?" A blonde says walking into the classroom with a box in one hand and another blond in the other arm. She tosses the box to Rose. "Clumsy's in this class and she brought those from her parents lame shop—"
"You have a bag under your arm from that same lame shop."
Chloé glares at Rose who snaps her mouth shut, "not my fault they're the only boulangerie pâtissèrie with any competency. Doesn't mean I have to like it or them. They're lame, even more so for giving birth to Dupain-Cheng." She pauses, looking over the brunette, "who is this hobo chic chick?"
The brunette gapes before shaking her head to school her feather. "I'm Lila Rossi. I just—"
Chloé holds up a hand, "don't care about your life story." She looks over Lila again, "cute shoes though." She drags the poor green-eyed blond boy on her arm up the stairs to the last row on the right side of the classroom then sits down like she's royalty or something.
Lila turns back to Rose and Ivan, "I see what you mean." She mutters.
"Don't worry about her." Rose pats the brunette on the back, "there's only one Chloé in the school and that's... well, Chloé. Most of the students in this school are really nice." The blonde suddenly squeals loudly and Lila winces clutching her ear. "S-Sorry! Still working on volume control. Hope you like our school." She grabs Ivan by the arm and pulls the boy to the second row on the right side of the classroom. Lila watches the blond obviously try to avoid staring at the purple-haired girl that walks in the class up the stairs past her.
The purple-haired girl reaches the second to last row and Chloé tosses a bag onto the desk. "That seat is occupied, Gotherella, sit somewhere else."
The girl eyes the seat then narrows her visible eye at Chloé. "No one's in it."
"Obviously." The blonde rolls her eyes, "they aren't here yet." Chloé makes a shooing motion, "Go away, Bats. I have garlic in my salad and I am not afraid to use it."
"Chlo—" The blue-eyed blonde takes out a pâtissèrie from the bag and stuffs it in the green-eyed blond's mouth. The purple-haired teen glares then stomps down the stairs to the first row on the left and plops down on it.
Chloé rolls her eyes then shakes her head.
Lila takes a seat in front of Rose and Ivan and looks around the class watching the rest of the students file into the room. A tiny girl with rainbow hair gives the big guy a flustered greeting he returns the greeting just as flustered. The tiny girl opens her mouth but Chloé interrupts snapping her fingers. "Let's go Mylène, I have your seat already."
"R-Right, Chloé. I'm—"
"Now." Mylène frowns then gives Ivan an apologetic smile he returns, then she shuffles up the stairs to the seat where Chloé's bag is. Chloé holds out her hand and Mylène puts the bag in. "Honestly, Mylène, your maman would roll over in her grave seeing you associate with that." Chloé carelessly gestures toward Ivan nearly hitting the green-eyed blond beside her in the face. Lila hums. There's something familiar about that kid but she can't put her finger on it. Oh well.
"But Ivan is nice."
"I don't care if he was a descendant of a king of France! He's a worthless commoner. Your maman was my maman's adviser, that makes us important people and as important people we need to stick together. I pulled a lot of strings to get Damocles to have us in the same class this year. You should appreciate me looking out for you."
"I-I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize, it's beneath you. Just do better."
The rainbow-haired teen nods sadly. "O-Okay."
Chloé looks around, "where the hell is Sabrina?"
The intercom loudly crackles to life. "Adrien Agreste, please report to Principal Damocles' office." The blond – Adrien (no wonder he looked so damn familiar! He's Adrien Freaking Agreste: the teenage heart-throb model. Lila taps her chin. He isn't as cute in person as he is on billboards. Oh well.) – looks up at the ceiling with his eyebrows furrowed. "My parents must've found out I left." He sighs.
"If they try anything I'll have Papa talk to them."
"Thanks, Chlo." She nods at him. He gets up after Chloé finally releases him and heads down the stairs smiling sheepishly at everyone outright gaping at him. He nearly bumps into a tall blue-haired girl as they reach the door at the same time. "S-Sorry!" He squeaks then flees.
The girl shrugs then walks into the classroom with an equally tall brunet. She and Chloé make eye contact for less than a second and Lila could swear the temperature in the classroom dropped several degrees. She needs to know who this girl is.
She turns back to Rose and Ivan. Ivan has his head down frowning and Rose pats him on the head, "who is she?" Rose looks at her quizzically and Lila jerks a thumb in the direction of the blue-haired girl who makes her way up the stairs to the second-to-last row on the left side. The brunet beside her sticks his tongue out at Chloé before they sit down. The blonde huffs indignantly folding her arms over her chest, turning toward the wall.
Rose squints, "I'm not sure..." She stares a few seconds longer then her eyes widen, "no wait. I-I think that's Marinette. We were in the same class last year. She's super nice and really creative. She's also in the art club..." Rose frowns, "but she was not that tall three months ago. I've been this height for years and she just grows twice as tall practically overnight?" Now Rose puts her head down and Ivan pats her on the head without lifting his head.
Their professeur, a redhead wearing a crisp navy suit wearing her hair in a tight bun, bustles into the classroom. "Greetings students. I apologize for my tardiness. For those of you who don't know me, I'm Professeur Bustier. There was a new student Principal Damocles wanted me to introduce to you—"
"Then why did Adrikins go to his office if you were just gonna introduce him?" Chloé interrupts.
"I'm sorry?"
"Adrien Agreste? He was just called to Damocles' office."
"Oh yes. So I've heard. He wasn't the student I was talking about." Bustier motions at the door and a beautiful bespectacled girl with her long wavy orange hair tied in a ponytail and some strand of her hair cutely framing her face, walks in the classroom immediately capturing everyone's attention. Oh no no no. This will not do. "Class this is—"
Lila stands frantically raising her hand, "P-Professeur? Professeur, I'm a new student too!"
"Are you? I was only told about two new students, not three." The professeur hums, "well, please come down so we can be introduced to you." Nodding, Lila makes her way down to the professeur's desk standing at the woman's left while the other new student stands at the right. "Where was I? Oh yes. Class, this is Alya Césaire. She came all the way from North America. Let's all make her feel welcome." The class nods.
Bustier nods at Lila. "O-Oh. I'm Lila. Lila Rossi. I came from Naples, Italy. I'm still learning French so I apologize in advance for my terrible pronunciation." Bustier pats Lila on the shoulder then gestures for both girls to take a seat. The other girl takes a seat in the first row on the left next to the purple-haired girl.
"Okay. Now as today is the first day we're going to—"
The door opens and a pale, orange-haired bespectacled teen walks in the classroom. "Sorry I'm late, Professeur, traffic was weird this morning."
"It's quite alright. We were just getting started." The girl heads to the seat in front of Chloé. The blonde leans forward to hug the girl from behind. "Now then, we're going to get class representative voting out of the way—"
Chloé raises her hand, "there's no need for that, Professeur. I'm always class representative."
"Oh here we go..."
Chloé glares at the blue-haired girl briefly then turns back to the professeur. "If you don't believe me you can ask my papa, the mayor of the city?" Bustier blinks at her. "Only important people are allowed to hold positions of power. And as an important person, I'm one of the few here qualified to be class rep."
"I-I see." The professeur furrows her eyebrows before forcing a smile. "Well then, Mlle Bourgeois—"
The blue-haired girl raises her hand, and the professeur acknowledges her, "you're seriously just gonna appoint her class rep? She never does anything! We almost missed our class trips because of her."
"We still got to go, didn't we?" The blue-haired girl rolls her eyes, "and if you are so damn opposed why don't you run? Oh, that's right. Because you're a loser."
"Loser, my twintails. I'm not gonna run because you're just gonna sabotage me."
"I wouldn't need to sabotage you to win."
"Keep telling yourself that. I seem to recall you sabotaging my Next Big Designer design idea because your maman was a judge!"
"She's far too busy to look at anything of yours—"
"Girls, please!" Professeur Bustier interrupts. She looks at the blue-haired girl, "are you interested in running for class rep?"
the blue-haired girl snorts out a laugh, "you're just gonna appoint Chloé because she's gonna once again remind you who her papa is. I won't waste time convincing you not to give in."
Lila lets out an impressed hum as the professeur outright gapes at the girl. "I volunteer." The woman snaps out of her stupor staring up at Lila raising her hand. The blonde narrows her eyes and the blue-haired girl is giving her an unreadable expression. "I was class rep at my old school."
"That's wonderful, we have two candidates and that means we'll put it to a vote."
"I don't care if you were class rep a hundred times over, New Girl # 2! I run this class! Anyone who doesn't vote for me can't go to Jagged Stone's back to school performance at Le Grand Paris this weekend."
Lila gasps, "y-you're bribing your classmates into voting for you?"
"Do you not know how voting works?" Chloé folds her arms over her chest. "What are you gonna give the class if – and I mean if – you were to win?"
"I-I'd just try to make the classroom as comfortable for everyone—"
"Boring! Unless you're giving us plush seats you can't do anything. My papa can easily fix the broken down seats in this class. I'll tell him to up the school's budget so we can get nicer things in the classroom. I doubt you could do anything like that so it's obvious I'm gonna win. You know why? Because I always win. It's best you recognize that now."
Bustier clears her throat, "s-so... all in favor of Mlle. Bourgeois?" There are only four students, aside from Lila, who don't raise their hand. "I suppose that's that."
"Unfreakingbelievable." the blue-haired girl mutters nudging her friend who also didn't raise his hand.
Bustier clears her throat, "now I'm gonna assign seats." The class gasps.
"B-Before we do that—" The blue-haired girl interrupts, "I have macarons from my parents' boulangerie pâtissèrie."
"Do you have enough for the class?" She nods. "Well, then you're free to pass them out. Everyone come to the front." The class reluctantly complies walking to the professeur's desk. The blue-haired girl goes one-by-one in front of everyone offering the box and they thank her accepting a macaron or two. When she gets to Chloé who is at the end of the line leaning against the wall, the blonde gasps in outrage as she opens the empty box.
"You did this on purpose!" The blonde growls.
"Yeah, because I calculated how many macarons I'd need to make sure you didn't get any." She rolls her eyes ignoring Chloé glaring at her. The blonde misses Marinette subtly fist-bump the brunet beside her.
✍ ..
When Adrien returns to the classroom he sees Chloé glaring at the front of the class while everyone else is sitting in different seats. "Are you trying to make me fail your class, Professeur?" The pretty blue-haired girl exclaims at her seat in the front row on the left. "I'll never be able to hear you with her constant blathering."
"It's utterly ridiculous you want me to sit next to her! She's a walking disaster!"
"This obvious tension between you is the reason you're sitting next to each other. Now, Mlle. Bourgeois, please take your seat." Screaming, Chloé stomps over to her seat and gracelessly plops down next to the blue-haired girl who shifts away as much as their shared desk would allow. With a sigh, she turns to Adrien. "Oh. Oh dear..." The redhead surveys the class, "ah. M. Agreste, you'll be seated right here in the front next to Lila." The brunette waves at him and Adrien doesn't know why but he feels a sudden shudder rake through his body.
At the principal's office, Nathalie was standing there with a tablet that had his parents disappointed faces on it. His parents are mostly reclusive – ironic given their career choices – but Adrien doesn't share that perspective. He enjoys being outside and around other people. He was halfway expecting his parents to demand he return home but he was so surprised to hear they're giving the school a trial run that he hugged the tablet. The only thing he's wanted more than going to public school was to have a sibling but that's not gonna happen. He spoke to his parents about adoption but for some reason they vetoed that option immediately. Oh well, one out of two certainly is not bad.
He plops down next to Lila and she smiles at him. The look in her eyes is enough to make his hair stand on end. "I've done a little modeling myself." She begins, conversationally, "weird how we've never met before. Guess the modeling world is bigger than I thought. Since we're both new to public schooling we should be friends. Look out for each other and junk, you know? Model to model."
"Y-Yeah. Sounds good." His only friends are Chloé and Sabrina and they're only his friends because all of their parents know one another. To have friends of his own his parents haven't selected? He's gonna make as many friends as he's capable of making. Adrien looks over at Chloé who is glowering in front of her desk with her arms folded. With Professeur Bustier turning to the board, Adrien jumps out of his desk and taps Chloé before sitting back down. She stares at him, eyebrows furrowed, and he points to his mouth then smiles.
She smiles at him briefly before scowling at her desk.
✍ ..
"Hey." Alya heads toward that other new girl – Lola? What was her name, again? "Just so you know, I would've voted for you."
"Thanks, Alya."
"No prob. I don't even know who Jagged Stone is but I doubt he's worth these kid's souls." Alya shrugs, "anyway, just wanted you to know that. See ya."
"Bye."
Alya walks by the seething blonde as the tiny girl with the glasses attempt to console her. Ugh. Alya's not looking forward to spending the school year around her. Why is there always one mega brat in every school she attends? She opens the locker Damocles assigned her and hears a loud scream. Alya turns around and a pile of purplish-blue ooze where the blonde was standing. Eyes widening, she whips out her phone and starts recording.
The ooze expands and shifts then dissolves. The blonde is back but her hair is now loose and down past her waist; she's wearing an all-gold tux that's, quite frankly, blinding. It's hard to look at her with how shiny her suit, tiara, heel, and scepter – with a freaking diamond in it. "Behold your school's one true Idol!" She sings. "Your Queen Idol!" The tiny girl flinches as the scepter is pointed at her. "Prove your loyalty to me, Sabrina Raincomprix, and I'll make you my knight."
The girl flinches as the scepter touches her head. For a second nothing happens, then the girl transforms in a blinding gold light to one of those medieval armor knights. The girl kneels, "My Queen Idol, I am yours to command."
As the blonde beams, she motions for the knight to stand. "We have a peasant to put in their place."
Alya continues to record as the blonde and the knight walk away. She slowly lowers the camera. "What the fuck? That was..." She clutches her phone, "an honest to goodness supervillain!" She screams and some of the students flinch. Alya kicks her locker shut, cackling as she follows behind the blonde.
As she starts recording again, the blonde aimlessly waves her scepter turning everyone in her path into medieval knights but their armor isn't shiny like the one beside her.
This is like a twisted cartoon come to life! And if there's a gaudy supervillain sashaying through the halls there's bound to be a superhero to stop them!
Damn! With the sheer amount of knights the blonde's made, she lost track of her but she continues to record the blonde's warpath on her phone.
"Attention students." The intercom crackles to life, "this is Principal Damocles. I don't know what the hell is going on in the halls but school is—agggh!" He screams. The students in the hall look up at the intercoms with worried expressions.
"Thank you, Principal Damocles. My subjects, you have but one task: Find Marinette Dupain-Cheng and bring her to me. Your Queen will shower you with affection if you succeed."
✍ ..
Marinette clutches her chest as she closes the boulangerie pâtissèrie doors, leaning against them. "Marinette?! W-What are you doing here?" Tom asks.
"I don't know what happened to Chloé but she hit a put on me—" Marinette shakes her head and growls, "she put a hit on me! Kim threw himself at some students dressed like knights that were trying to bring me to her!" She screams, "coming home was the obvious thing! I have to go somewhere else—"
"Marinette calm down!" Tom grabs her shoulders, "whatever is going on we'll—"
"Tom, get over here quick!" They run into the living room as Sabine turns up the volume on the television.
"'Don't be bemused, it's simply... the news.' To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure what I'm witnessing. A cosplay convention gone awry? One of those 'flash mobs?'" The burgundy-haired woman shrugs scratching her head, "who knows? But Knights are scouring the city looking for Marinette Dupain-Cheng." A blinding gold light hits the newscaster transforming her into a knight, "so she might as well surrender herself!" Then she charges toward the camera cutting off the feed.
"We have to—oh." Sabine sighs in relief, "you're already here."
"But I can't stay. Chloé knows where I live, and I will not have her coming after you guys just to get to me."
"Marinette, we're your parents. It's our jobs to worry and protect you. Not the other way around. If and when Chloé comes, we'll handle it—"
"But—!"
"No buts." They both hug her, only releasing her when Marinette's stomach growls loudly.
"I..." She chuckles awkwardly, "didn't get to eat. I dropped my fritter this morning when Chloé's towncar nearly hit me and this old-er fellow."
"What!?" Sabine yells. "First she tries to run you over, then she has the whole city looking for you! I swear that awful girl and her family raise my blood pressure."
Tom rubs Sabine's shoulders, "deep breaths. Deep, calming breaths. Honey, why don't you do some sketching to take your mind off things? We still have some danishes left over if you need a pick-me-up."
Nodding, Marinette takes a cheese danish from behind the counter then goes up to her room. As she opens the trap door she could swear she saw something moving out the corner of her eye in the direction of her window, but when she looks she doesn't see anything. Shrugging, she plops down on her desk stuffing the danish in her mouth.
She angrily bites the danish then pauses blinking at the hexagonal box on her desk.
Chewing, she picks it up with her free hand and glances at the character written in hanzi. "'Destruction?'" She scoffs. "Right. As if I need a box telling me how destructive I am—" She pauses, putting the danish down on her notepad. "This feels familiar." Biting her lip she cracks open the box a little and a blinding black light has her dropping the box on the floor to shield her eyes.
Marinette slowly lowers her hands and a giant black bug floats up from the ground. She quickly picks up her sewing machine from the desk and slams it on the bug's head. It yelps then drops to the ground.
Sighing in relief, she picks up the box – that the bug fell beside – and opens it fully examining the plain thin strawberry gold ring inside. She takes it fully out of the box examining it. "Is this real gold? Never seen one so... pink."
As it turns out, the bug isn't dead... and it isn't a bug. When it floats up a second time, with a large lump on its head in between its two cat-like ears, it glares up at her. "That was way more painful than last time!"
"Last time? I've never seen you before—" She covers her mouth with both her hands.
"Okay. Let's go through the motions again and hope the rabbit doesn't have to pull another trick out of her hat."
Marinette slowly lowers her hands, "what are you talking about?" She whispers.
"Hm? I'm talking about our partnership." The creature looks around, "where's the snack? Did it change in this timeline?" Marinette stares wide-eyed at the thing and it sighs. "Let me start over. I'm Plagg and I'm a kwami—" It pauses, "I'm your kwami. I've been sent by the Guardian of the Miraculouses to help you – the Avatar of Destruction – harness your abilities. With me so far?" She nods slowly. "There's some creature or something out there we need to stop. I don't know how different this timeline is to the last one we were in together."
"I'm, uh... no longer with you."
"That's okay. This is confusing. I get it. Alright. You don't remember me?" Marinette shakes her head. "Then you won't remember the bunny either. Long story short: the Guardian – the person responsible for giving me to you – messed up and I knew something felt off but I didn't know what. Bunnyx is the Avatar of Time. When something is screwed up so bad it fucks with the whole multiverse Bunnyx comes in and corrects the mistake. She's like a human backspace button or a walking jar of correction fluid. Kwamis all use the same source of magic so we remember every instance of Bunnyx fixing things but our Intendeds rarely remember things outside their timeline and if they do it comes in dream form. Because if you're remembering things from too many timelines the memories will constantly conflict and you'll go insane."
"That's good to know. So, uh, Plug was it?" They sigh. "I don't need any additional destruction going on in my life, thank you. I've got thirteen-and-a-half years of solid proof backing me up."
"It's Plagg and I'm afraid you have very little say in already being the embodiment of destruction. You were born with this power."
"So I'm cursed. I knew it!"
"No, no. It's not a curse. Though your predecessors all viewed it that way. There isn't a single power in the nine dimensions strong enough to give anyone the shitty card hand you've been dealt."
"Right. So it's a culmination of powers that dumped a pile of destruction into my parents making me?"
"Not how I would've said it but, yeah." Marinette sighs. "But being the Avatar of Destruction means you'll always have the cards stacked against you but you'll still gracefully persevere—" Plagg pauses, "maybe not gracefully but you'll shine nonetheless." Marinette frowns, "now I know you wanna do your fashion thing and you still can, but first we gotta kick some monster ass. Hopefully, Bunnyx helped Master find your partner because kwamis aren't meant to function solitarily. It's why we have matches; it's why we're given to humans to work with. Bunnyx portal-ed in and paid me a visit and reminded me of this. In my defense, it has been over a century since I was last activated. The Avatars of Destruction and Creation don't come as often as other Avatars."
Marinette toys with the ring in her hand, "and this is somehow gonna help me help you... help me?" Plagg nods.
"Ah! There's the snack." Marinette glances at the danish Plagg is eyeing, then gestures at Plagg to take it and take it Plagg does. Marinette grimaces as Plagg swallows the danish whole. "These are delicious."
Marinette hears screams from downstairs. "Shit. She found me." She puts the ring on her right middle finger. "Plagg, claws out!" Her eyes widen, "wait... how did I—" Her eyes widen further as Plagg flies into the ring. "Oh fuck."
There's a blinding light coming from her hand. Her ring changes color and shape now to green beads on a cat's paw. Next, black fingerless gloves materialize over her arms and hands, with a basketweave pattern that has every second line green, and her nails elongate and magically paint themselves green. After that, a mostly black cat suit forms over her body – same pattern as her gloves. An obnoxious green crystal bell ties itself around the equally obnoxious green ribbon around her neck. She gets a pair of green knee-high boots the same color as her nails and its basketweave pattern is the inverse of the rest of her suit. A green baton appears over her head and she catches it; there's a black cat paw in the center and she presses it causing the baton to split in two.
Her hair grows, making her twintails that barely touched her shoulders loosened, flow over her chest, and turns the same green as her nails and to finish it off black ribbons appear and tie themselves around her twintails.
She feels her lips tingling so she grabs her phone and opens the camera app flipping it to selfie mode to see her lips are green. Then she gasps as she looks at her yellowish-green green eyes that have cat-like slits. A black domino mask forms over the top half of her face, with the same baskerweave pattern. She examines her entire body with the camera before setting her phone down. Her ears – she has black fluffy cat ears and a bushy black tail with a green ribbon on its end. She tweaks her ears because she can't help herself and yup, they're real. "Sweet Colonel Mustard, what the hell am I wearing?"
There's an explosion that shakes the whole building. Marinette hooks her batons on her belt then crawls out the window and slides down the fire escape. Then she makes a mental note to clean her room when she gets back.
As Marinette gets to the front of the shop, the door opens and a red cord wraps itself around her body. The cord pulls her away from the door right as Chloé, being carried in a throne by her knights, is lifted out of the shop and Sabine and Tom are tied together against the back of the throne.
Marinette gapes at the person the cord is attached to. They're wearing a red and black polkadotted catsuit but what's really mesmerizing are the fiery orange-red crystal wings that are just fluttering beautifully and there are also half black, half red antennas poking out of their head. They have bright red ear length hair in a bob (at least where one's ears would normally be without a domino mask over it) and red lipstick. "Bwha—?" Marinette sputters.
"I don't understand what's going on myself. Did a chatty..." They look her over, "cat I guess tell you it was your duty to stop that thing?" Marinette nods. "Then you must be my partner." Marinette nods again. Upon closer inspection her partner appears to be a ladybug. Makes sense. Ladybugs are often viewed as symbols of good luck. (A dragonfly would've been cooler but whatever.)
The ladybug extends her hand and Marinette shakes it. "I take it your chatty ladybug told you that you were the Avatar of something?"
"Good luck and Creativity." The ladybug scoffs. "I've never been particularly lucky in life." Their eyes narrow and they clutch the yo-yo in their hands. "But this isn't about me. We need to destroy the corrupted object. Something called an 'amok' is amplifying that blonde's anger while an 'akuma' is what transformed her into what we just saw."
"Your kwami told you all that? All I got was a conversation about timelines and the Avatar of Time."
"My kwami mentioned that to me as well. They said us not meeting is why the timeline was messed up. My arrival to the city was... expedited. And to top it off I was given incorrect information about the school I'm supposed to be attending."
"You really aren't good luck." She swings her yo-yo and it snaps back hitting Marinette in the head. "I think that was my bad luck overlapping yours."
"Two negatives equal a positive." The ladybug swings the yo-yo again and it ties around a chimney.
"Just how long is that string?"
"It's magic. There's no explanation for it otherwise." Marinette nods, "hold onto me. I heard the blonde mentioning execution."
"You what!?"
✍ ..
Alix just wasn't sure what the hell was happening anymore. Maybe she didn't wake up and she was dreaming? She overslept – it happened more days than it didn't, time seemed to enjoy making her its bitch. When the pink-haired teen made it to the school, every entrance slash exit was blocked by a pair of shiny knights. Then the more Alix looked around the more knights she saw; there were even a few shiny and some non shiny patrolling the school grounds.
And she could swear she saw Chloé Bourgeois with hair-extensions wearing a shiny gold tux once or twice.
That was it. No more triple fudge milkshakes before bed. She. Was. Done.
Shaking her head, she decided fuck this and turned to skate back home but one of her wheels dislodged from her skate and she fell face first on the sidewalk. "Uncool." She mutters.
Bunnyx watches the pink-haired girl from inside her time prism, get up then dust herself off. She's bleeding in a few places but she shrugs it off and skates off with just the one intact skate. Bunnyx sighs pressing her hand against the time window. "Atta girl." She whispers. "Just nine days..." Bunnyx mutters removing her hand from the time window and it vanishes. She presses her hand against another spot on the wall and another time window opens.
Minibug and Kitty Chaos have Queen Idol hogtied and KC slams her baton down onto the tiara and a feathery purple and blue swirled butterfly flutters out of the now broken tiara.
Minibug startles as she taps the can of motor oil against the butterfly and it explodes into a bright pink light that blankets the sky.
Bunnyx rolls her eyes as a swarm of blue feathers turns the sky blue then form a peafowl's face. "Congratulations." The face speaks, "you two have selfishly doomed the city all because you wouldn't surrender your Miraculouses. Hope you can live with yourselves."
Minibug and KC nod to each other. The can of motor oil turns back into the yo-yo and the bug thrusts it at the face that screams as the feathers disintegrate and the sky turns pink once more.
There's this... flash that Bunnyx even feels in her time prism and when she clears the stars dancing out of her eyes she sees the city once again intact.
Minibug and KC actually hug rather than high-five or fist bump. Interesting. They've never done that in any universe before. It... probably won't hurt anything.
She did the right thing. If she hadn't, Minibug wouldn't be here and this world would end. And there's no coming back from that. Believe her, she's tried.
Unfortunately, such a drastic quick change to the timeline will create paradoxes even she isn't aware of.
She watches the duo wave to each other as they go their separate ways. Bunnyx moves her hand from the time window and it closes. She taps her foot for a few seconds then turns around and presses both hands against the wall opening a new time window.