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An American Bobtail In Paris

Chapter 2: Meet Vermilion Bug

Notes:

A/N: I was going to give Alya shoulder-length hair but then I saw the movie picture and am glad I decided against it

Chapter Text

Paris, France
Tuesday, December 29th, 2020


Who is this peafowl? Another superhero? An akuma?” Rose runs both hands down her face as she sees the news. She was transformed for, what, two seconds?, kicked an angry akuma in the face, and suddenly she’s the only thing on the news?


Worst of all...! She can’t even remember if things were like this the first time Vermilion Bug showed up! Or Húdié!


Come to think of it...? Who even—? The blonde groans. It was that guy who stared at her with his mouth hanging open. “Duusu?” The kwami pauses in fluffing up her hair, “who gave you to me again?”


“The Guardian of the miraculouses of the Chinese miracle box.”


Rose nods slowly then pauses abruptly, “...wait a minute! There’s no peacock in the Chinese zodiac!”


If Duusu had eyebrows, Rose figured one would be raised questioningly. “Do you know that for a fact or are you simply guessing?”


“Fact. An ex-girlfriend of mine celebrated Chinese—Lunar New Year and told me all about the twelve animals. I know there was a bird, but don’t remember which bird. However, I do know that the bird was not a peacock.”


“Peafowl is the correct term, by the by, and you are correct. Kudos to you for having a bit of knowledge on the subject. Perhaps you aren’t truly hopeless as you appear?” The blonde blows out a breath, “but before you get a swelled head I will tell you kwamis precede Lunar New Year and all forms of... everything. Our likenesses have been used for millennia. It doesn’t matter to us. We had these corporeal forms made to make us easy to maneuver ourselves and guide our charges.” Rose nods slowly and Duusu continues to stare at her, “...you don’t understand.”


“No.”


“I must give you points for honesty.” Duusu sighs, “that’s okay, I will teach you all you need to know.”

“Speaking of know...? Since you made me transform, the least you could do is introduce me to Vermilion Bug.”


“I cannot. I do not know her identity.” Rose groans, “however, I am certain you two will fight together. You were activated because evil has surfaced. Even Vermilion Bug cannot handle on her own. The Guardian will activate one more individual to round out your team. And no, I do not know their identity either.”

“Kinda figured that.” Rose takes the television off, “what am I supposed to do, exactly?”


“Defending the planet from... things.”

“Right. That explains it.”

“It would be best if you were told by the Guardian. It would be a good idea to practice using your new abilities. You can summon amoks from the feathers on your fan. You have as many amoks as you have feathers. Also, there is more to this gig than working with Vermilion Bug.”


“Seeing as how you didn’t give me a choice, I’m allowed to gush about Vermilion Bug.”

“I just don’t want you to develop hero worship or any unrealistic expectations. She will be your teammate, not your commander.”

“Fine, fine! I get it. I can’t believe I’m a superhero!” She gasps, “like Majestia! Ooh, do you know Majestia?” Duusu sighs heavily.

🐞


International Waters
Wednesday, December 30th, 2020


This has officially been the weirdest day of Alya Césaire’s life. The flight she was on was full so they offered her a first-class seat.


The lady in the seat across from hers mistakenly ordered a meal she was allergic to, so she offered it to Alya free of charge.


When Alya inadvertently bumped into a guy, not only did his luggage fall on him but several other overhead carriers opened and luggage started falling on people.


The guy walking behind her to get on the plane got his luggage stuck between the plane and the connecting walkway.


One of the flight attendants that was about to charge Alya for her meal promptly began choking and when another flight attendant performed the heimlich, they accidentally hit the undo button causing Alya’s bill to disappear and she ended up getting her food for free.


Something seriously strange was going on.


Like she’s wrapped up in a vortex of weirdness affecting everyone around her.


She drew the curtain around her and reclines her seat. It’ll be a while before she lands. Yawning, Alya runs a hand through her hair and stills. What the...?


Alya moves some of her hair in front of her shoulder. There’s a gold ring with silver jagged lines across it in her hair. How long has that been in there?


It takes a bit of an effort to untangle the ring from her hair.


Alya examines the ring. Looks real enough. With a shrug, shoves the ring in her left pants pocket. Maybe this because of the weirdness? Or maybe it’s the cause of the weirdness? She’s an avid comic reader, she’s used to weird shit. Not this level of weird, but weird nonetheless.


“Mademoiselle?” Alya draws the curtain back and sees a flight attendant holding a frosted bottle in their gloved hands, “courtesy of our French connoisseurs, we have a glass of pinot noir for you to sample.” The flight attendant produces an ice cold champagne flute from behind their back, then pours the drink into the champagne flute and hands it to her.


“Um, thank you?” Alya takes a sip of the drink then almost immediately spits it out onto her garbage bag attached to the edge of her chair. “What the fuck was that?”


“It’s Domaine de la Romanee-Conti, it’s the most expensive wine in the world! One bottle alone costs 57,000 American dollars! One glass alone—!”


“Thank you for the ...history lesson, and free disgusting booze.” The flight attendant shrieks in dismay when Alya dumps the drink into the garbage. They sway on their feet for a bit before fainting. Another flight attendant trips over the unconscious one and a parfait lands in Alya’s hands.


“Oh! I’m so sorry.” The flight attendant picks up their colleague, “I...” They blink as the tray carrying the parfait lands in the trash bag and the parfait is neatly in Alya’s hands with the spoon sticking out. “...Huh. Odd. I suppose you might as well keep that, for the scare.” They drag their co-worker down the aisle.


Alya examines the parfait in her hands. Cherries, apples, some kind of spongecake, whipped cream. She drags her spoon through the whole thing to get a bite of everything at once.


🐞


This has got to be the weirdest day of Lila Rossi’s twenty years of existence on this earth. Weird shit was happening on the flight she was on. A chain reaction had luggage was falling on most of the passengers. Lila had the good sense to duck before a large duffel bag fell on her head. The guy beside her wasn’t so fortunate though. From her seat, in coach (her mother couldn’t even afford to give her a first-class seat and she’s the one that wanted Lila to come to France for some God-forsaken reason?!), Lila had a perfect view of first-class and that’s where most of the weirdness was manifesting.


But from her seat, in coach, she couldn’t see much. Just people falling and whatever or whoever was seated to the left was generating some serious (enviable) chaos.


A flight attendant drags a co-worker to the little flight attendant nook.


Lila leans to the left and tries to look through to first-class, then she has to move when someone runs down the aisle with a hand covering their mouth. Lila looks back at the person then back to first-class trying to see what’s happening.


🐞


“How odd...” Jess Keynes doesn’t bother looking up from her book as her mother, Barbara, speaks.


“What’s ‘odd,’ mother?”


“That girl. Strange occurrences are happening and she is the epicenter.”


“Is that not why we are going to Paris? To ‘investigate’ strange occurrences?”


“You are displeased.”


Jess shuts the book then looks up at her mother, “yes, mother, I am ‘displeased.’ You pulled me out of a prestigious university I have been eyeing since I was twelve to play the Scooby-Doo to your mystery quest!”


“Jessica, don’t be absurd. You could get into any prestigious university—”


“By my own merits or simply because you can make a phone call?”


Barbara’s eyes narrow. “Don’t take that tone with me, Young Lady.” Jess reopens her book, “and you should be thanking me. You are far too brash to stay in New York alone.”


“Yes, mother, you must keep an eye on me at all times. After all, how else will you micromanage my life?”


Jess gasps as Barbara takes the book from her grasp, “you wish to act like a brat? You will be treated as such. You won’t be getting your book back until we land.”


The brunette gets up from her seat and walks toward the bathroom.


🐞


“Marinette? Marinette!” Sabine checks her watch as she stands at the edge of the staircase, “what time is it? Marinette, time to get up!”


“Sabine?” The black-haired woman pauses mid-step then looks back at Tom. “Maybe let her sleep a bit? We’re gonna be swamped later with all the New Year’s orders, plus making ourselves some New Year’s sweets. We’ll need our nocturnal daughter at her most energetic.”


Sabine sighs looking up the staircase, “I worry about that girl sometimes, Tom.”


“What?” Tom walks up a couple of steps and wraps his arms around Sabine’s waist, “oh come now, Sabine! What’s there to worry about?”


“Marinette never goes anywhere, Tom! She’s always upstairs designing or down here helping us with the shop.”


“She’s driven.”


“She’s obsessed!” Sabine corrects.


“Sabine, having a twenty-year-old daughter who knows what she wants to do with her life is far from the worst thing in life.”


“That’s just it!” Sabine wriggles from her husband’s grasp and turns to him, “Marinette has no life! She has no friends! She’s always just... designing! Designing, designing, designing, designing! It’s... unnatural! She’s been on this designer kick since she was seven! And honestly, Tom, what do we even know about our daughter besides that? I... I feel like I’m failing her.”


“What? Don’t be silly, Honeybun. You’re not failing her. Marinette is a good egg. My parents knew nothing about my hobbies when I was twenty. My papa still doesn’t know about a few now! Everyone is entitled to their secrets, Sabine.”


Sabine frowns, “I’m waking her up.” Tom sighs as she walks up the staircase. Shaking his head, he walks back down the stairs to the shop.


Sabine ascends the staircase until she reaches the attic. The black-haired woman pulls down the staircase to the attic then climbs up it and pops open the trap door and enters the room. As she suspected, Marinette’s latest design projects are hanging from her mannequins. Five of Marinette’s six multicolored mannequins are standing upright, the last is on the floor split vertically in half on the floor. Sabine knows her daughter is regarded as... clumsy and accident prone, but just how did that mannequin get damaged in such a peculiar manner?


Sabine looks around the room. When was the last time she really took a look around? Marinette’s walls are vertically striped pink and grey but other than that the walls are bare.


Sabine sees a note pinned on the corkboard with her handwriting saying Graham de Vanily Annual New Year’s Dinner: Their Usual Pâtissèrie Order; Dec 31 – Thurs? Fri?


Marinette’s desk has her PC monitor on one side and her sewing machine on the other. The pink and white sewing machine staring back at Sabine, mocking her.


Marinette’s television is off on the TV stand under the skylight windows of her room, gaming consoles and games neatly stacked on the TV stand shelves.


All of Marinette’s fabrics are neatly rolled into a wooden basket but there’s a particular roll she’s unfamiliar with.


Her bed is propped in the corner under the lights as well. Her closet is closed and there’s a trail of clothing leading to the trap door that leads to her newly installed bathroom. Well not newly but new enough.


Marinette loved it. The only problem was, Sabine almost never saw her daughter unless she was coming downstairs to eat and even that was sparse. If Marinette had a minifridge, she’d never leave the room! What was she failing at as a mother? Her mother is her best friend. How could she not be the same with her daughter?


Sabine cautiously approaches the bed where Marinette is nestled in her multiple sheets and there is the strangest polkadotted eyemask over Marinette’s face.


Before Sabine can hold a hand out to reach for the eyemask, Marinette’s phone starts blaring a generic preinstalled on her phone alarm. Sabine sighs heavily.


One of Marinette’s hands shoots out from the blanket to reach the phone, once she shuts the alarm off her hand stills and Marinette sits up with the eyemask still on her face. “Māmā?”


“I thought I’d wake you up.” Marinette gently takes the eyemask off her eyes then looks up at her mother. Sabine notes her daughter’s eyes look a little puffy, whether it’s from just waking up or something else she doesn’t know, “when’s the last time the two of us went out shopping together? We need a few extra ingredients for tomorrow’s New Year’s Eve dinner. Interested in going with me?”


“Sure, māmā.” Sabine smiles then nods. “Let me hop in the shower real quick and I’ll join you downstairs?”


“Yes. Of course.” Keeping the smile on her face, Sabine makes her way down the stairs and closes the trap door.


Marinette waits until she hears footsteps before she gets up from her bed. “That was close...” The ladybug kwami, Tikki, floats up from Marinette’s hands to her shoulder, “I felt her hand hovering over me. I had to fake your alarm.” Sighing, the kwami pokes her partner in the neck, “if you went to bed at a decent time, you wouldn’t be straining your eyes and I wouldn’t’ve needed to lay on them to heal them.”


“Sorry.” Marinette sighs then yawns, “I had to finish. My parents’ wedding anniversary is New Year’s Eve.” Twenty-fifth wedding anniversary – they never had the big, fancy wedding; instead choosing to get married without all the fanfare to save the money for their upcoming brick and mortar boulangerie pâtissèrie. Marinette gets up from bed and walks over to her fabric basket, she unrolls the embroidered photo she made of her parents together.


It took Marinette four months to finish this gift, but it was worth it. Their wedding anniversary and the anniversary of the boulangerie pâtissèrie first opening its doors was the same day. Both on New Year’s Eve.


“Marinette, I noticed your mother lately seems particularly stressed when she looks at you. Shall I try to heal her?”


“You can try but it won’t do much good.” Marinette rerolls the photo then puts it back with her fabric, “this isn’t something the miraculous ladybugs can help with. Māmā is disappointed I’m a wallflower.” Marinette says with a one-shoulder shrug. “Sabine Cheng was the most popular girl in collège, lycée, and university growing up! Whether she was in Shanghai or Paris everyone loved her! It’s only biologically fitting that her daughter be the same, right? Instead, what Sabine got was a daughter that merely looked like her but turned out like Tom Dupain. Awkward. Uncoordinated.” Marinette opens the trap door that leads to her bathroom then begins walking. “Māmā doesn’t understand I find people to be a hindrance.”


“You know Marinette, when you talk like that it’s easy to see where she comes from. Not all humans function solitary, like you. Some actually like being around others.”


“Tikki, the very first thing you told me when we met was that no one could know my identity. I told you that wouldn’t be a problem since no one knows who I am as a civilian.”


Tikki sighs heavily, “a ladybug cannot form a colony on her own.”


“Then it’s a good thing I’m not here to form a colony.” Tikki frowns, “nonno used to tell me stories all the time about how people only bothered remembering papà existed because he was the kid with the pâtissèrie parent. The one everyone always wanted to ‘talk to’ during holidays or events that required baking. Nonno told me these stories to prepare me. So that I don’t have to worry about the same thing happening to me.”


Tikki flies in front of Marinette’s face stopping her from walking, “uh... quick question? Your... grandpa, just how long have you spent with him?”


“When the boulangerie pâtissèrie first opened up, nonno lived here and looked after me. He stayed until I was six. Then after he went back to Italy, I visited him every summer.”


That explains so much...” Tikki mutters. She had the unfortunate displeasure of unofficially meeting Rolland Dupain when he came to visit over the summer. Shortly after Tikki was given to Marinette. Her parents were so cheerful, Marinette had to get her... less than cheerful nature from an outside-ish source. The man was as surly as the definition, “look Marinette. Humans are all about give and take.”


“Too bad that’s never taught in equal measure, hm?” Tikki blinks at her. “Why are you on this ‘togetherness’ kick all of a sudden anyhow?”


“You remind me of the kwami of destruction, Plagg. He was all about the lone gunslinger act too. ‘Can’t depend on people as far as you can magically haul them,’ he’d say. I bet he’d just thrilled not to be on...” Opaque pink bubbles float out of Tikki’s frowning mouth, “‘...leash’ anymore. Probably got separated on purpose.” Plagg must be looking for his perfect chaotic match. Too bad Tikki was already gifted to her. With any luck, Plagg will find someone who reminds him of Tikki so he doesn’t cause the destruction of another planet.


“And that was one of the lost miraculouses, Húdié is searching for?” Tikki nods.


“There’s more...”

“There always is.”


“Master, I mean Húdié, believes it might be for the best for you to have a team.”


Marinette laughs humorlessly, “after six months of saying ‘it could only be me?,’ it suddenly isn’t only me anymore? Yeah. No. Not happening. He needs me. I don’t need him. And I don’t need a team. And please feel free to tell him that.”


🐞


Alya is one of the first to exit the airplane and enter the airport. Like the tourist she not-so-secretly is, Alya takes pictures of everything. Alya hasn’t spoken a word in French since her family left Martinique over fifteen years ago.


A woman walks past Alya then trips over her wheeled luggage. Then someone trips over the woman setting off a chain reaction.


Alya quietly picks up her pace and heads to a bathroom inside the terminal. When she enters the bathroom the lights shut off. Someone screams. A light turns back on and sparks start flying from it. Alya hears a toilet flush then a woman runs out of the bathroom holding up her pants with her hands. Lastly, the door closes then locks.


Ominous laughter echoes through the bathroom walls as the lights shut off again. “Weary traveler who has found the ring of Plagg. I grant you the power of devastation! Which you have spread nicely—”


“Nah bruh, you’re about to grant the powers of turning the lights back on. I’m tired and not about to pee in the dark in an unfamiliar bathroom.” Alya sees a pair of white fangs in the mirror’s reflection before the lights blink back on. Alya walks into one of the stalls then locks it.


“It’s just the two of us in here, and I’ve heard plenty of humans urinating before.”


“Heads up.” Plagg catches the ring his new wielder tosses out of the stall.


Plagg’s grin widens. “By the way? Having to hide in your luggage for all those hours? Not fun. Clothes smelled nice though.” The toilet flushes, Plagg floats over to one of the sinks and turns the water on. The stall opens and Plagg sees his wielder for the first time. She has gorgeous wavy orangish-red hair flowing past her shoulders. The type of hair Plagg would love to nestle in. Her brown eyes are behind a pair of black and grey framed lenses. “Does my wielder have a name?”


“Alya.” Plagg moves to the side so Alya can wash her hands, “what are you?”


“I’m a kwami. The literal translation is old god. Plagg means erasure in the old language, don’t know how it turned into ‘devastation’ over the years, but I’m not complaining.” Plagg sniffs Alya, “the plane made you smell like stale bread and entitlement.”


“Yeah, I feel it.” Alya dries her hands, “I need a shower, bad.” She eyes Plagg. “So what did I do to deserve the powers of ‘erasure?’”


“For you? It was as easy as ducking under a tree.” Plagg takes a bow, “and I thank you for that. You see the Guardian’s getting a little careless with age. He was on his way to see his lady carrying the miracle box and he dropped all the miraculouses inside. He gathered up as many as he could but I was one of the more fortunate ones who wasn’t found.” The kwami grins, “unfortunately, miraculouses can only be activated by humanoids. I truly don’t know how long I was just stuck in that tree until this gorgeous, gorgeous hair freed me from my prison. I have no intention of being sealed back in the ring, just so you know.”


Alya hums, “alright then, what’s in it for me? If I keep you active?”


Plagg beams, “ooh, I like you. Why would you do this for free? Great question. Hmmm. Let’s see. I can have you harness the power of erasure and destruction. Everything that happened around you on the plane? Imagine having control over that. You get to decide what bad things happen to who, when, and just how much.” Alya stares at her reflection in the mirror, thinking. “You just have to keep the miraculous on you at all times. Doesn’t have to always be on your finger. You can put it on a necklace. You can wear it as a toe ring. I can change its form so it functions as any other type of jewelry. So long as it’s making contact with your body, it’s active.” Plagg slips the ring on Alya’s left middle finger. “So... do we have a deal, Alya?”


Alya examines the ring on her finger, “yeah. I’ve always wanted superpowers. Let’s do it.” Plagg nuzzles Alya’s face and purrs.


“One more thing. You can’t tell anyone about me.”


“Am I gonna lose my powers if I do?”


“Uh... no? I mean, I don’t think so? Huh. No one’s ever asked what happens if you do tell someone.” Plagg beams, “got someone you want to tell?”


“My big sister Nora. Probably. She’s a professional kickboxer and the reason I’m even standing here talking to you. I had to transfer universities and everything. We’re gonna be living together. I just don’t want you to have to hide all the time while we’re harnessing powers and whatnot.”


“You know what? Let’s see what happens!”


🐞


It has been a while since Marinette just spent some time with her mother. Or either of her parents, really. Marinette tied her hair in a bun so Tikki could relax in there and communicate with her easier. According to Tikki, her mother kept sending her nervous and worried glances every few minutes during their walk to the market.


Sabine picks up a box of cookies and sighs heavily. This brand is Marinette’s favorite. Was? “Ooh!” Sabine snaps out of her thoughts when Marinette leans toward her, putting one hand on the box. “I haven’t had these in so long.”

“You know... we could actually make these cookies.”

Marinette’s eyes light up, “really?” She gasps excitedly, “we should make some for new year’s.” Sabine nods with a smile, “in fact, we should make all different kinds of cookies.” Marinette puts both hands on her cheeks, “I can’t wait to have mooncakes.”


Sabine and Marinette turn to each other, “we need noodles!” They walk to the baking aisle of the market and grab pre-made noodles and various assortments of flour. The international cuisine aisle has more things they grab to make for new year’s.


“I almost forgot! The Graham de Vanily family asked for a ‘surprise’ in addition to their usual order.”


Marinette raises an eyebrow, “a surprise?”


Sabine nods, “I could tell Mme. Graham de Vanily was trying her hardest not to ask for ‘exotic’ ingredients when she said we could throw in some of our ‘eclectic’ specials.” Marinette shakes her head.


“Why do we do business with them?”


“The family totals a third of our business.” Marinette lets out an impressed hum, “plus, they namedrop the boulangerie pâtissèrie to all their rich associates. Which brings in more business. Not to mention they overpay and are happy to do so.”


“Doesn’t mean we have to be subjected to their casual thoughtlessness.” Marinette frowns, “they probably think they’re doing us a favor and checking a few of their boxes helping out the Chinese influenced boulangerie pâtissèrie.”


“I doubt they’re that thoughtful. Still, we’re getting paid. What should we make?”


“What about some egg tarts? Think that’ll be ‘eclectic’ enough for them?”


“We’ll see.”


🐞


“This is a beautiful earring.” Kagami tenderly moves some of her hair away from her ear. “Cartilage piercings take a bit longer than lobe piercings to heal I’ll give you a care guide on what to do with your piercing.”


“Thank you for this.”


“It’s literally my job.”


With Kagami’s hair only been shoulder-length, Roaar has taken to hiding inside her jacket. The jacket she is currently loosely holding in her hands. The ear piercer person said she might be more “comfortable” with the jacket off. The bluegreen-haired guy has been flirting with Roaar’s poor oblivious kit ever since she walked into the shop. When Kagami carefully shrugs her jacket on, she pays for her new piercing at the front counter then leaves the shop. Roaar climbs up to the collar of her jacket.


Tomoe was in the lobby complaining about her meager accommodations and why the hell all her information wasn’t sent to the correct hotel.


As the kwami of stealth, Roaar did a little digging into the Le Grand Paris computer system and found Mme. Tsurugi’s information then forwarded it to the boss himself. They put her information in one of André Bourgeois’ lesser-known hotels in the city. The Bourgeois’ owned property all over Paris. It’s how André made all his money enough to buy himself the office to become mayor.


There was a lot Roaar dug up on a man she’s never heard of until yesterday.


Kagami was going to pierce her ear yesterday but there was an alert for all civilians to remain indoors after something called an akuma was running rampant. Roaar said “akumas” are what the butterfly miraculous wielder uses to temporarily grant superpowers to others. The only way one would run “rampant” was if it was corrupted. And for an akuma to become corrupted, their emotions and reasoning for the transformation would need to be shifted to ...less than pure motives, during said transformation.


Before returning to the hotel, Kagami stops by a clothing store. There is a large display in the shop’s window for winter clothing “approved” by Audrey Bourgeois. Bourgeois. The same surname as the hotel owner. Kagami hesitantly enters the store. The place looks a bit too posh for her. Tomoe instilled a minimalistic style onto her.


“Greetings!” Kagami turns to the tall, beautiful, brown-skinned woman with her hair in light brown braids tied up in a ponytail. “I’m Charmayne. Welcome to Foreground! What can I help you find?”


“I am just... looking.”


Charmayne nods, “I gotcha. If you need anything just give a holler.” With a smile, she walks off to another customer.


The black-haired woman blinks at the display in the corner. “‘Be like Vermilion Bug?’” She reads at the display that seems out of place in such a store. Everything in this display is polkadotted, and red and black. Kagami picks up a red and black boot in disdain. Shuddering, she puts it down. The backpack on the wall has a cartoonish drawing of a woman with her dark hair that has red streaks in a pair of high twintails swinging a yo-yo in her hands. Vermilion Bug is written beside her.


Kagami leaves the shop without buying anything and walks into another clothing store. This one more... modern. But this store also has a display dedicated to Vermilion Bug. There are socks, plushie toys, and berets.


Leaving the second store, she nearly bumps into a pale blond white man about to enter. “I-I’m sorry.” He stutters staring wide-eyed at her.


“It’s fine.” As he continues to stare, Kagami walks around him and leaves the store.


Wait!” He runs out of the store and catches up to Kagami, “you walk fast.”


“I do so particularly when I do not wish to be bothered.”


“I can respect that.” The blond says panting, “I’m Adrien.”


“Uh-huh.”


“T-This usually is the part where you give me your name?”


“And why would I do that? You did not ask for my name. You demanded it, and I don’t give into demands.”


Adrien shudders, “w-wow. I-I’m sorry. Can I start again?” Kagami stops walking and regards the blond. “Hello Mademoiselle.” He bows, “my name is Adrien Graham de Vanily. Would you do me the honor of telling me your name?”


“I won’t, M. Graham de Vanily.”


The blond licks his lips, “p-perhaps another time then? Should we meet again? I-If I haven’t offended or upset you again?”


“Perhaps.”


Adrien watches her walk away. Wow. Beautiful women usually just throw themselves at him. A few men too. This... This is new. And strangely welcomed. It’s humbling. Adrien Graham de Vanily voted 2020’s most desired eligible bachelor of Paris overlooked by a beautiful woman? Is this what regular people go through? He can’t wait to attend university!


🐞


Chloé is doing her nails when Adrien returns to the hotel. “I just saw the most beautiful not masked woman in the world!”


“That’s sweet of you, Adrikins. But you see me all the time.”


“I don’t mean you.” The blonde sticks her tongue out at him. “I mean...” He pauses, “well I didn’t get her name... but she was beautiful! I even told her my name and there was no reaction! Do you have any idea how that must’ve felt?”


“Terrible?”


Uplifting! It felt like I didn’t have a care in the world! I felt like a regular man should feel.”


“Adrikins, that’s gross.” The blond frowns. “Classes start again on the fourth. Hope you’re ready for hell. I went to collège and lycée with the most obnoxious girl you’d ever meet and she ended up attending the same university as me too! I swear it’s just been years and years of bad luck piled on top of bad luck.” Chloé sighs, “I mean I get why my parents wanted to send me to public schooling. To give me a sense of what commoners go through and all that jazz. Mostly papa’s idea, but that girl?” Chloé takes a deep breath, “I’d ball up my fists but I’m doing my nails polkadotted red and black for Vermilion Bug.”


“Didn’t you just do your nails two days ago?”


“I got a smudge on my pinkie finger so I decided to do them all over again. By the way, what are you gonna study in university?” Adrien blinks at her, “Adrikins? Hun? You’re going to school to learn, remember? Not just gush about Vermilion Bug.”


“W-What are you studying?”


“Business. I need to run this hotel better than papa” Chloé checks her nails, “then I have to be able to handle maman’s business as well. I’m hoping to get a degree in fashion as well. Might have to go to a different university for that though.”


Adrien frowns. “What are my options?”


“You can check all the courses on the school’s website.” Adrien takes out his phone and goes on the website. François Düpont was named after Íñigo Düpont and François Jordan, there are even statues of them. There are quite a few programs to choose from. Adrien frowns as he goes through the list. None of these sound particularly interesting to him. Huh. He can’t believe he didn’t think of thinking. Though to be honest, he never thought he’d get to this point. He was hardly expecting his mother to agree to send him to public schooling, least of all now. Wait... is university even public?


Oh man. He has a lot to learn. Maybe his brother is more knowledgeable on the subject?


Adrien sends a quick text to his brother.


🐞


“Alya!” Nora hugs her oldest younger sister tight as she exits the airport. “Damn, feels like forever since I last saw you!”


“We had a video call just yesterday.”


“Didn’t capture how big you got!” Nora puts Alya down, “I mean damn. Did I say damn? Because... damn! Gonna have to start carrying a bat around to chase suitors away. My legs are insured and I don’t wanna muck ‘em up on the rabble.”


“‘Rabble?’ You’ve been hanging around too many white people.” Nora busts out laughing.


“I’ve fucking missed you!” She squeezes Alya’s shoulder. “We can stay up late working on my kickboxing form and talking about girls while eating popcorn. It’ll be great! My dreads need to get done so I was hoping you could lend me a hand?”


“So I’m here as your personal trainer and hairstylist?”


“I’ve been suffering for three years without you! Do you have any idea how fucking hard it is to find a black hairstylist in this city? I’ll tell you. It’s pretty fucking ridiculously hard! And when I found one that motherfucker cost a fortune, and before I could get to him the shop closed down! Last time I got my hair done had to be like a year ago and Ella tried her best but...” Nora trails off with a shrug, “oh I’ll also need you to be an occasional apartment sitter.” Alya folds her arms over her chest. “Wanna hear your alternative? Ma, Pop, and the twins live at Le Grand Paris hotel where Ma works. Second nicest suite after the owners in the penthouse. You could always live there? I’m sure it’s got tons of space.”


“Fuck that. I’ve read articles. Ma is the only good thing that hotel has going for it. And I’m not about to get her ass fired because some snooty racist doorman tests my patience.”


“Did I mention how much I fucking missed you? My apartment is great. Okay, not great... but good. There’s like a park or something nearby and the school you’re transferring to is just across the park.” Alya yawns with a nod, “hop on. Let’s get you to your new home. I’ll order a pizza or something when we get there. You know everyone’s gonna wanna see you, right?”


“They can see me on New Year’s. I plan on sleeping until I wake up with an uncomfortable crick in my neck.”


🐞


“Welcome to Paris, Mme. Keynes.” Jessica pretends to be preoccupied by her phone as the two women exchange the cheek kiss greeting. Out the corner of her eye, the brunette watches the luggage trolleys being pushed toward the limousine’s trunk. The two women are chatting to each other in English.


Jessica’s eyebrows furrow as she looks at the image flashing across her phone of a young woman in a polkadotted suit swinging through the air on a string.


“Jessica, we’re going.” She follows her mother and the other woman inside the limousine. “By the way, this is Mme. Rolling.” The pink-haired woman smiles with a wave.


“It’s an honor to finally meet you.”


Jessica raises an eyebrow, “really? With all due respect, Mme. Rolling, I have never heard of you so please forgive my skepticism.”


“Skepticism is good.” The woman replies. “That’ll keep you alive. My name is Penny Rolling and I am the lead agent of the organization NOV8. We are a team of all-female spies who investigate unnatural occurrences in the world.” Penny holds out a black card with the brown infinite symbol toward the brunette, “Jessica Keynes, we want you in NOV8.”


“What?” Jessica looks over at her mother who nods.


“I’ve come to Paris to recruit several agents, and investigate the phenomenon going on involving Húdié and Vermilion Bug. Your mother is one of our finest agents.”


“For the sake of conversation, let’s say I agree to this? What will I be doing?”


“You will be trying to recruit Vermilion Bug to NOV8. In six months there has never been an interview of the hero. She simply shows up when there is danger, deals with said danger, then disappears.”


“I know nothing about this ‘Vermilion Bug’ and I have no interest in playing spy in order to find out. I am simply in Paris to attend François Düpont University.”


Barbara frowns at her daughter. “I’m sorry to hear you aren’t interested,” Penny begins, “but it is what it is.”


The ride is filled with awkward silence in which Barbara spends a pretty good deal making disappointed faces at her daughter who uses her phone as a distraction.


They pull up at Le Grand Paris. Barbara and Penny exit the limo first followed by Jessica who looks around. “Welcome to Le Grand Paris!” A sweaty middle-aged balding white man greets with his arms spread out wide. “We’ve been expecting you, Mme. Keynes! Please, come in! Come in!” The man does a double-take at Penny. “O-Oh! Mme. Rolling. I-I had no idea you’d be here. Shall we prepare a room for Jagged Stone?”


“Oh no. No, no.” The pink-haired woman shakes her head. “I’m here on my own. Jagged is still in Britain visiting family before he goes back on tour.”


“In that case, shall we prepare one of our finest rooms for you?”


“No thank you, I’m not staying. But I appreciate the offer.”


“Of course, of course!” The man hastily snaps his fingers and all the bellhops grab luggage trolleys and roll them out the lobby. The Keynes family are so high profile it’s no wonder the man is pulling out all the stops for them.


Jessica rolls her eyes. Next thing she knows, the owner’s child is gonna appear in their hotel room and offer a flimsy veil of friendship. Hopefully, this extended stay hotel is better than the last few they were in.


When the elevator arrives, Jess is the last to enter inside and she can barely fit with her mother, and all the bellhops and their trolleys inside. She manages to squeeze out and gasp for air. “I’ll take the next one.” Her mother gives her a disapproving stare but the elevator door shuts before she can say anything. Jessica sighs in relief then frowns realizing she doesn’t know what room she’s staying in. The brunette takes a step back and sees the elevator going all the way up to the – damn – to the top floor. So much for taking the stairs.


While Jessica waits for the elevator, any elevator, she’s joined by a short black-haired woman and a blonde, both arriving separately yet at the same time. The blonde is angrily texting on her phone and making annoyed noises every few seconds while the black-haired woman is completely still. The middle elevator opens and the three of them enter.

“Ah! How lucky am I to be greeted by such beauty!” The elevator guy says. He flinches when the black-haired woman eyes at him with a blank stare. “W-Which floor?” He asks meekly.

“Seventh.” Is what the black-haired woman says at the same time the blonde and Jessica say “penthouse.”

The blonde lowers her phone, “you’re going to the penthouse?” Jessica nods, “have we met? I don’t think we’ve met. I would’ve remembered seeing someone as pretty as you. Are you staying in the other penthouse suite?”


“This hotel has two penthouse suites?”


“Yeah, well. My papa owns it and my maman and I live in there. But he made an additional penthouse suite – that’s next door but not connected – for other high-profile guests. Then on the floor below we have other luxury suites. I’m Chloé.”


“Jessica.”


The elevator reaches the seventh floor and the black-haired woman exits. When the doors close behind her, the elevator guy sighs in relief. “There was something terrifying about her.”


“Why? Because she wasn’t here for your sexist bullshit?” The blonde asks with an eyebrow raised. “Are you even certified? Because your comment teeters on sexual harassment.”


“Calling beautiful women beautiful is sexual harassment?! M-Mlle. Bourgeois, I don’t—”


“Save it. You’re at work, aren’t you? Be a little more professional. When I’m running the shots at this hotel, if you pull shit like that again you will be fired. Just a heads up.” Jessica lets out an impressed hum. The man stiffens for the remainder of the ride. Then timidly bows his head as they exit the elevator. “I swear the scum papa has hired...” The blonde shakes her head, “we should have breakfast tomorrow?”

“Sounds good.” Chloé nods, “this is your suite.” The blonde opens the door and Jessica gasps. This... This is as big as their two-bedroom apartment! “I’ll be there.” Jessica turns around and sees the long hallway and Chloé is pointing to the only other door beside the elevator door. Only two of the three elevators go all the way up to the penthouse suite(s).


🐞


Tomoe decided to take a virtual tour of the city while simultaneously trying to find a way to leave the city. She should’ve guessed the “opportunity” she got an e-mail about was bullshit. Or spam. To be able to introduce her family’s A.I.s and automated assistants worldwide was too good to be true. French was not one of the languages Tomoe was taught as a child but she – if nothing else – is a quick study. Since the plane ride, Tomoe has been listening to French language learning audiobooks. She had Kagami do the same but even with the headphones on, Tomoe heard her daughter snoring.


Hmmm. Speaking of her daughter, Kagami has been behaving rather strangely as of late. Must be whatever is going on with this city.


It felt like there was some kind of soul living in the city itself. Tomoe needs to get the hell out of here.


Tomoe hears the door open and recognizes Kagami’s footsteps, “how was your shopping trip?”


“Odd. The city appears to be obsessed with a ladybug cosplayer.”


Tomoe hums, “so I’ve heard. They call her Vermilion Bug. Evidently, she’s the city’s ‘home-grown’ superhero. It’s been six months since her arrival and the city seems to be celebrating it even though they know next to nothing about her and only see her when there is danger.”


“Ah. I should check the news.”

“What did you purchase?” Kagami pauses which makes Tomoe curious.


“Earrings.”


“Earrings?” Tomoe repeats.


“It was as if they spoke to me. I also got my ears pierced so that I may wear the earrings.”


Tomoe hums, “you were gone for hours and all you purchased was earrings?”

“There wasn’t anything of interest beside the earrings.” Unconvinced, Tomoe simply hums.