tushanshu_logs | Time to work on your cat call--

Entry tags:

Time to work on your cat call--

Characters: Ladybug and YOU
Date: August 1st
Location: All throughout the city
Situation: Now that she knows Adrien is safe-- the bug is on a hunt for her actual cat friend.
Warnings/Rating: None, G

It was still early in the afternoon when she appeared-- a strange girl clad in a red spandex suit speckled with black spots. Her upper face was hidden by a matching mask; black hair pulled back with trailing red ribbon ties. There's a yo-yo attached at her hip-- a tool that she uses to help her propel between buildings. She's not particularly keeping out of sight. Instead, she seems more concerned with covering more space.

When she stops-- and she's stopped in a number of different places in her search-- she's quick to address anyone who will listen and in fact, her inquiries explain certain aspects of her behavior.

"Excuse me... I'm looking for someone. I was wondering if you might have seen him. He's about this tall, blonde hair-- he's dressed like a black cat..." Trust me. She knows how weird that sounds. But right now she's honestly grateful for how much he'd stand out.

This person is, it would seem, the cause of her concern. She's trying not to seem it, but the truth is she feels anxious to find him. She'd already waited longer than she should have. If something happened then she would feel personally responsible. She never should have abandoned him this long knowing what had been going on the last few days.

Or if she doesn't approach you specifically you might have seen her travelling the rooftops only to land and check her yo-yo... It seems to fip open to something with a strange display, similar to a tracking device. In the process however, it's not entirely unlikely she might bump into you quite literally.

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In his mind, she's that and more. Any world is a better place with Ladybug in it.

"You'd better not, we've got a job to do here too you know."

Well, not quite as important as defending Paris from akuma attacks, but still. It had it's own importance all of its own. Hatal especially weighs heavy on him, and the earthquake that devastated so many lives. They can make a difference here. Perhaps not as big or as grand as home, but a difference all the same.

"So. How long have you been here? I was a little...in-cat-acipated for the last few weeks. Magic spell hijinks. I missed a lot, though I'm sure I would have noticed you."

Yes... she can't deny it's importance; not with Adrien in this city. But she had a lot of catching up to do as far as the city was concerned. She hadn't been able to do much with Adrien around-- not that she had any complaints. But now she had to do the extra work to make up for it. "Looks that way. No such thing as a day off for us."

It would be too much to hope for that everything here would be safe and perfect and wonderful. But she was willing to take what she got.

"That's what I heard." Just without the terrible pun. Although if she wasn't Marinette, she'd probably wonder why she heard that, without hearing anything from Chat Noir himself. "Oh, I've been around. Long enough to know you were surprisingly quiet during that time." Well, she couldn't verify that was true of the entire time, but long enough that it was a fair assumption. "I had... some things to take care of first."

"I think we'd both be bored if that was the case, Ladybug."

He knows he would be, but then again, for him becoming Chat was a way to become himself. An accentuated version of himself, certainly, but more him than the polite, perfect boy his father has made him into.

"Well, I didn't really want to be in public, you know how very much a care about my image," he raises his eyebrow, interesting. "You did? Like what?"

He knows that's probably getting too close to her "no talking about their civilian lives" rule, but he'll casually go for it anyway. Everyone loves a trier.

It's certainly a different way of life. As Marinette she was... well she was a disaster waiting to happen most days. But as Ladybug she wasn't like that. She was strong-- she helped people. Those moments meant the world to her. "Maybe something like that."

Hiding, then. Well... she can't entirely blame him. If she ended up in a mess like that she wouldn't want to worry anyone either. But then, she had that bad habit of being harshly critical of herself. Oh but she's not letting him get away with that last bit. "Your 'image' could use some work."

But she doesn't get to enjoy messing with him for long. What indeed. Her mouth opened and then shut again just as quickly. "Ah-ah." She shakes her finger at him. "Nice try. Besides-- my fairytale life would probably bore you to tears."

"I'll have you know that my image is as beautiful and adored as I am."

He brushes a hand through his hair to make his point. Technically, that wasn't a lie. It was just that people tended to adore the maskless him for the wrong reasons. The sort of reasons Chloé and Lila liked him for. Still, it gave him plenty of practise for acting superficial.

"Oh, but Bugaboo," he puts a hand to his chest. "Surely you know that no matter what life you led would be very, very interesting to me."

"I'm more worried about what's in here." She pokes him in the chest, mid-chuckle. There was no denying Chat Noir had a certain devilish charm about him. If her heart wasn't already thoroughly claimed, she might have been interested in him herself. But it was, and she didn't have any room for 'what if's.

She makes a face when he accentuates that nickname, but can't keep it up when he proclaims his interest.

Things were different here. Their real enemy was nowhere to be found... there might not be as many reasons for them to hide their identities-- at least from each other. But even the insinuation still made her uneasy. All it would take was one slip up on her part and she could have another mess like her first day on the job. Maybe even worse. And that aside...

"...didn't it ever occur to you that you might be disappointed by what you find?"

He glances down as she pokes his chest, his hand moving to the spot after she moves her hand away. He continues to stare at it, while she speaks. When she stops, he can't help but let a self-depreciating laugh bubble out from out of him. Disappointed? In what life she'd lead? Never.

It has to be better than the nothing he is. He doesn't even know who he is. He has very little to bring to the table here. But her...there's no way she can't be someone amazing. She probably saves stray animals or goes to children's hospitals in her free time.

"That would be impawsible, My Lady," he replies, then a little more seriously. "You could never disappoint me. Not ever."

She could never disappoint him... if only she could really believe that. But he says it so seriously that she wants to believe him. This life wasn't easy, and no matter how many times she rejected the suggestion it wasn't like she didn't like the idea of someone who knew who she was supporting her anyway. She just didn't have the confidence that it would really work out that way.

"I'm not thousands of years old... I'm not even old enough to drive a car. I'm not amazing-- I'm just a normal girl with more problems than answers. I'm not... I'm not the girl you're looking for. I'm not the girl anyone is looking for. The only thing I can do... is try to be the person everyone needs. So I can protect the people I care about."

Not thousands of years old. He'd had a good idea of that from the book, but it was nice to hear it right from her mouth. All of this was...a little new. He'd come up against a brick wall on finding out who she is so many times, he's got to the point where he stopped expecting to learn anything.

He's wanted it, since he's met her. While he understand the need to keep their identities a secret from the world at large- the threat Papillon poses is too great to put their loved ones at risk like that- he's never understood why it should be the same between them. And now, in a few scant seconds, he knows more about who the girl is behind the mask than he has in all the time he's known her.

He should feel happier about this than he does. She seems so...unsure of herself. Just like she was when they started their little venture. He'd loved seeing her gain confidence in herself, but now he can see it's still there, lurking behind the mask. It makes his heart ache for her. That she can't see what sort of person she is for herself.

"You're wrong, you know," he says it quietly, his gaze still on her. "The fact that you're a quote-unquote 'normal girl' and you still chose to put on those earrings and go right out and save Paris every time you're needed- well. Nothing about that says that you're not amazing."

He reaches out to put a hand on her shoulder. The desire to just...let the transformation drop is strong, but he keeps it on. He won't cross that line, not if he thinks she doesn't want it. He respects her too much to do otherwise.

"All you do is risk your life to help other people. Who wouldn't be looking for a girl like that?"

The only person she's ever been able to lean on-- to share her doubts and fears with-- was Tikki, and while she adored the bright red Kwami, it wasn't the same as confiding in another person. She'd never be able to relate to the number of insecurities Ladybug hid behind her mask every day or the fear of failure that resurfaced when the adrenaline rush subsided. If she made the wrong choices, everyone could suffer for it. A few successes didn't make that nagging truth any less real to her.

It had only been a few small concessions-- certainly nothing case-breaking. But he took the words she'd practically attacked herself with and turned them into something completely different. She realized that she wanted to tell him everything... not just who she was, but how she'd tried to run. How she felt like the person who'd chosen her made a huge mistake. About all the mistakes she'd made getting to this point... but how she wanted to be stronger.

How he'd made her stronger.

"Chat..."

It's not quite a hug-- rather, she lets her head fall against his chest and places her hands on his shoulders. "...when things went so wrong the first time, I was convinced I should just give up. I thought I should just let you take care of it. Or give them to someone else." She sighs. "I almost did." Although it feels nice, the real reason she's here like this is because it's easier to say if she doesn't have to look at him. "The reason I feel like I can go out there now and protect people is because I've always had you to protect me."

There was still the matter of identities, but she still didn't have an answer for that.

"...I want to tell you. But... how do I know that's not another big mistake? I could be putting you in danger."

Edited 2016-08-05 04:31 (UTC)

She puts her head on his chest and he becomes horribly aware that his heart feels like it's going to thunder out of his chest. He hesitates, for a moment, before putting a slightly shaky hand oh her back, his thumb brushing the nape of her neck. This isn't so much as crossing a line as it is changing where the line lies, and he frankly has no idea how to handle it.

Still, he listens to what she has to say, and is surprised by it. That she came so close to throwing in the towel. He's even more surprised that she has so much faith in him. It's laughable, really. Of course he's there to protect her. That's his job. He'd take every single hit the akuma victims lashed out, if it meant that she still kept going.

"You have to be the one standing at the end of the fight," that is true, but it's only a part reason why he continues to risk his life for her. "...And I couldn't just...just let you get hurt if I could do anything to prevent it. As for wanting to give up, you didn't. You kept going because it was the right thing to do. Because you're stronger than you realise."

His conversation with Zatanna keeps playing on his mind. How it can come down to being with either them or their civilian identity. But in this, Chat wants to be greedy. He wants to just lay his soul out for her, and to know hers, too. To just have one thing in this world that his otherwise crappy existence can't ruin.

"I can take care of myself. I've been doing it for a long time."

His tone is hollow, a touch self-depreciating. But it's true. Still, he knows she put that line between them for a reason, and even if it's changed position, he knows he can't force her to remove it completely. If she ever did, he'd need it because she wanted to do it, not because she felt she owed him it.

He lets out a steady exhale, mentally putting away those boxes of thoughts and feelings that threaten to come tumbling out if he doesn't keep them in check. It's not the time. Not now. Not yet.

"...But it's fine. I get it. I do."

It feels... really good to let herself be supported-- tearing walls down instead of building them up. To let herself be human instead of pushing herself beyond those limits on her own. He's always been there, but this is the first time she's really let him be here with her. The one who moved the line was her. He was no longer the only one playing with the thought of erasing it altogether. Letting herself be comforted by the warmth of his hand, she let herself just listen to him. His answers, the quick pace of his heart...

She can sense there's a lot of things Chat Noir is holding on to himself-- things she'd like to be selfish enough to ask about. The way he talks about taking care of himself-- of course she knew that. It's the way he says it that worries her. Because it's become clear that he won't always do that.

Would being closer make that better or worse? That just got piled on top of a lot of other things she didn't know. "...that's what I'm worried about." She sighed. "We're both hopeless."

But she can't just go back and forth like this forever. The easy answer was plain-- just refuse. Let things stay the way they've always been. But... just like that, she would also ensure that nothing ever did change. Easy... right... difficult... wrong... It wasn't straight forward anymore and she'd have to make a choice.

"...one month."

It comes out a little breathlessly; a little rushed. But the second time... there's no mistaking it. She lifts her head a little, although she doesn't step back. "Give me one month." Before she runs away again-- she's setting it in stone. "I just... need some time to think about this." Not just about her and him, but the other people she knew around her. What it would mean for them if that information got out. For Adrien... who was too close to her to ever be safe, now in more than just one way. "I need to know what I'm up against."

"And... if I feel like we can really do this, then... I'll tell you."

And just like that, there's a lifeline. There's something he can cling to- and though he knows she may yet change her mind, he clings to it like a man drowning. His life has been drastically short of anything to hope for, and now, now he will throw all his hope at this. At this possible chance to know who she really is.

He knows there's no promise of anything more there. He's never certain of how aware she is of his feelings for her. He'd hope it was obvious, but it's not like he's ever really put it into words. Aside from the poem, and he can only wish that the reply came from her, aware that it might not have at all.

But this...this was something. It was terrifying, but it was what he'd wanted. Just to know. He manages a smile, not his usual snarky smirk, but something softer, something genuine. He moves his hand to her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Okay. One month," he can live with that, that's fair, given everything. "Thank you."

He felt it was important to thank her. To be grateful that she's even entertaining this notion. He knows he's good at playing the goofy fool, at being the goofy fool, really, deep down- but he needs this to be serious. Honest. Raw. He's not playing around this time.

It feels good to have something solid to anchor herself to. In this case it's a date. A date she'll fuss and fret over for the next few weeks, but one she's grateful for all the same. It'll be good for her, she thinks. Good for him too, she hopes. It sounds like with all the uncertainties piled up on them, they needed this. If she can't find the confidence to do this, then how could she ever hope to branch out and be the kind of hero that can protect these people against the unknown dangers they faced on the turtle?

With that said, some of the tension drains. It won't last for long, but right now she feels. Pretty good. A soft, sheepish laugh escapes her. "No... thank you. For putting up with all... that." There's really not a good word for it; the mess of confessions she pushed on him. "I came here to make sure you were okay and in the end I ended up making you listen to all my problems."

Even now she's not quite sure how that happened. What a strange turn of events. Seeing just how serious Chat Noir is right now just nails it in harder. Neither of them are playing around this time.

"One month..." She repeats it-- like it's still amazing to believe that in that short amount of time she might be here laying it all on the line. That brings forth another realization. "...Tikki's going to kill me." She can just imagine the lecture she's facing now. There's no way the Kwami was going to approve of her choice without some strong arguments. But things were very different now. She just hoped she could make her see it that way too.

His stomach is doing cartwheels, and he doesn't care. It's happening. Or at least...the start of it is happening. A step in the right direction. There's so much more he wants to lay down on the table. How he feels about her being the big one. But that can wait, too much excitement for one day already.

"You say that like listening to your problems is some kind of burden for me."

He chuckles at that revelation. Tikki. Sounds much more...maternal than Plagg is. But that's not exactly a stretch, all things considered.

"I'm not really certain Plagg will have an opinion either way. Unless you have cheese? Then he'll probably be all for it."

"If I didn't feel like it was, I wouldn't be apologizing."

She might have a small soft spot for the catboy, but she's certainly never felt like she had to go easy on him. "But I will say you are a surprisingly good listener."

Plagg, huh?

"Cheese?" That gets a good laugh out of her. A Kwami that could be bribed with cheese? She can't even begin to imagine it. "I'm almost jealous. Then again... I get carried away enough as it is-- it's probably for the best." Not unlike right now. Making decisions on the fly usually ended badly for her, but she hopes with the one month wait that won't be the case this time.

"Surprisingly good?" he puts a hand to his chest, in faux-painm happy to be on some more common ground at last. "My Lady, you wound me. I'm a fantastic listener."

He groans at the subject of the foodstuff, rolling his eyes. He still can't believe that's what his kwami chose as his foodsource. Couldn't of have anything less disgusting than cheese. Like a hamburger or a sandwich or a rotting carcass.

"Camembert, specifically. But that's a little trickier to get here so he's had to live with that I can find," he pulls a face. "He doesn't take that well."

"When you want to be, I'm sure."

Oh but to the contrary, Ladybug is enjoying the subject quite thoroughly. His dislike is written all over his face but it's just such a mundane complaint that she can't even begin to search for sympathy. In fact, the idea of Chat Noir having someone to give him a hard time brings a satisfied grin to her face.

"I'm sure that just breaks your heart."

He can see you taking delight in his pain, mademoiselle. He casts her a look, before folding his arms, letting out a melodramatic sigh. His life, it is suffering and pain.

"It does! Do you know what it's like walking around with cheese stank all the time? I'm amazed anyone comes anywhere near me."

As overly dramatic as ever. At first it seems she's just preparing to roll her eyes and call him out on that, when she stops and gives him a different look before taking a small step back.

"You know, now that you mention it--"

She's kidding. Probably.

He at least seems to take it for what it is (god, he hopes she's joking) and manages to look affronted and amused at the same time.

"You are so viciously cruel, you know that, right?"

He'll put a hand to his head for dramatic effect. To show her how viciously cruel she is to him. So sad. Such a sad, sad story his is.

His facial expressions are very well trained, she'll give him that. Although that's very specifically where she draws the line on compliments when they're in the middle of... whatever you call this.

"And what does that say about Chat Noir, who just likes the attention?"

She won't say he's a masochist but-- she'll imply it very loudly.

He'll just smirk at that one, leaning in a little closer. Same old game. It's a little different, with that month looming over them, but it hasn't changed that much yet.

"You mean your attention, My Lady? Because I can't deny, that makes sure I'm feline fine."

"My attention, huh... Well. The list of people vying for my attention is dramatically smaller here-- you might just be able to hang on to that solid second place you've earned if you keep at it."

Ever so close and yet so far from that coveted and yet completely impossible to achieve first place.

"Second place?"

He might look a little more put out than someone who is play acting. He folds his arms, pouting, giving a soft huff at that.

"Only second place? What about first?"

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