Chapter Text
It was busy in the bakery shop. Marinette elegantly worked on her station, kneading the dough with vigor in her arms. Flour dusted across her apron and egg white powder on the side of her cheek.
Marinettes family gladly began to pay her when she entered college with the school of her dreams of fashion.
Soon, she moved on to make the coffee orders in the barista station. She checked the time on her wrist watch as she poured the dark caffeinated liquid. Almost lunch, after the rush she’ll have to get going to her classes for the rest of the early afternoon that she eagerly looked forward to. Nerves also got the best of her as it was the first year of university. She studied and crammed so much into her mind to the point of exhaustion, but her efforts paid off.
Marinette gave her parents a quick kiss goodbye and she was out the door in a hurried pace. Her arms cradled to the brim of binders, and crinkled papers that poked out between pages. They jumbled even more with every bouncing step she made and even more disorganized when she tried to jog. Colorful bookmarks across magazines with careful written notes and sketched out designs that weren’t remotely even finished. Marinette was even more nervous for this semester, especially a project they had been planning. Not only one of her favorite designers but one of the top designers of France, Gabriel Agreste would be scouting, and critiquing some of their work. She had been using the majority of her brain power to create something. It had to be unique, not a statement but passion. And she did have the hunger of learning every single thing about the fashion industry. To graphic designing, to cosplay and even making the most elegant dress pieces for weddings and parties. Those were her absolute favorite to do. Even dreamt her very own dress to design one day. If that day would ever bless her way.
Marinette entered her classroom, her peers not bothering to greet. They were all engrossed in their own work, she didn’t blame them one bit. She was the same, already flipping through the magazine pages as she clumsily scattered her binders. Some of them featured Adrien Agreste, the famous designer's son who would model for his father incessantly. She took inspiration from every single thing she could but something was lacking. And she knew she was overthinking it.
Marinette gnawed on a fingernail as she scribbled notes across her sketch. Her piece looked like a cavewoman’s artifact with white fabric. Or a wedding gown ripped and shredded by a cat that used it as a scratch post. She didn’t even know where to start yet and the pressure was just starting to get heavier on her chest.
Focus, she told herself. Just focus on what you have for now and put your skills to work. Marinette had made so many handmade gifts for friends that still continued to wear and use them to this day that made her heart soar. Even when their high school hosted a formal event, she made her very own ballroom gown that caught the attention of her dream school. Marinette quickly began to work on her sewing machine and used her sketches as guidelines.
She was so enthralled into her work until she heard gentle whispers and soft amazed gasps. She looked up from her sewing needle, yes, there he was. Gabriel Agreste entering their classroom. To view their work.
The famous designer always looked stoic. In interviews, television and even in his own photos. Gabriel had his hands clasped across his back, and graciously took the time in each step. Scanning and analyzing every single fabric detail that everyone used. Marinette could hear his deep distinguished voice asking certain questions to her peers who also stumbled their own words when trying to answer.
Marinette's fingers began to tremble as she tried to focus back on her own project. She wasn’t the only one who was nervous, she tried to remind herself of that. Yet, her heart pounded harder when he came closer with each step. Till he was finally at her own workstation. Gabriel’s sunken steely gray blue eyes appeared over. “And what are we working here?” He asked, hands still clasped behind him, not wanting or trying to interfere with one’s creative process.
“Uh,” Marinette swallowed. Should she be honest? She didn’t even know what to say. And most certainly did not want to lie or try to cover up. She cleared her throat a bit, “I was thinking of doing a gown. A wedding one, I know it doesn’t even look remotely like it. It’s… still a work in progress.” Shame. She was utterly ashamed about what she had right in front of her.
“I see.” He says.
“I’m open to criticism.” She blurted, a little too loudly. Her face reddened, cheeks filled with hot embarrassment, she was going to regret this. Why did she even bother? “I just really admire you.” She paused briefly. “As one creator to another. I would love to learn from you.”
Gabriel didn’t reflect any emotion whatsoever. Impassive, cold as a marble statue. The cold silent designer peered over her work once more. Not a single thought could be read with that face. “I can see that you’re not quite sure what you want. It lacks interest. Maybe not in your sight, but I see a copycat, not an individual.”
Marinette blinked, icy knives going right through her heart. But she took in the critique. And looked at the mannequin canvas. He was right, this dress looked very similar to something he worked on years ago.
“However,” Gabriel had lifted some of the fabric with a hand, silently analyzing the mannequin with its makeshift gown. “I see you have very careful hands. Stitching is very well done, and the hem is seamless. There are skills here.”
Marinette nodded, though her pride still a bit cracked. “Thank you. I’ll come up with something else right away.”
“I look forward to the rest of the presentation.” Gabriel still had that steely sorrowful stoic look. His mind seemingly and distantly elsewhere. Marinette couldn’t tell even if he meant it. His response sounded so robotic, as if it was just an auto response. Where did his mind drift to? Then she remembered, he had lost his wife several years ago. She had disappeared somewhere in the Amazon, not even a body was ever recovered. She could only imagine the pain he went through every passing day.
Once Gabriel left and viewed the rest of the class, Marinette exhaled a breath almost forgetting to breathe during his presence. Why would she even set up for criticism like that so early? She could already feel her peers' pitiful stares and whispers behind her when she walked passed. Ignore, just ignore them.
Dejected, Marinette took her time walking home. She took the scenic route, the view of the eiffel tower of her city. The bridge of locks between lovers, her fingers lazily crossed the metal fence and traced over the many different locks with different initials. Most of them probably didn’t even last for very long, she thought. The sun had already set, the dark navy sky sparkling its tiny diamonds.
How would she even put herself into an outfit? What does it even mean?
She groaned to herself, throwing away the crumpling papers of her previous copy cat sketches.
“Back to the drawing board.” She mumbled to herself.
As she contemplated her next project, a deep fearful scream from behind that made her hairs on her neck and arms spike. Was that… real? She waited, contemplating that it was just her paranoia playing tricks on her.
“HELP! SOMEONE PLEASE!”
Marinette stood up straight, head snapping back and forth, following the cry. Back, forth. Her eyes rapidly searched until a sudden stop on an old man. He was protecting something, shielding it with his whole body, almost curling around it. She couldn’t make out the suspect, of course they’re always in dark clothing! They can never make it easy.
“Hey!” Marinette called out, stomping loudly right toward the scene. Her voice boomed with firm power, deep within her. “Cut it out!” She yelled louder, her legs forming into a sprint.
“HELP!” Cried the old man. As Marinette got closer she saw the suspect, using his fists to beat the old man.
“Leave him alone!”
Marinette threw her heavy bag of books at him that made the perpetrator stumble. Papers and binders scattered in the air. The stranger turned to her wildly. She grabbed one of the heaviest textbooks she had in both of her hands and WHAM!
WHAM!
“Back! Off!” She used both of arms to swing with her might as if she were holding a heavy broadsword, slamming it across the suspects head. That definitely hurt him, he put hands to his head as he stumbled back. She kept going till he scrambled off, she threw her other supplies that clattered against the cement at him but he ran off and cut the nearest corner. Marinette tried to go after him but he blended too much into the dark night, unable to detect which direction. Her chest heaved, up and down.
Marinette called after him as she panted, her rage heated up to her face. She was half tempted to keep searching for him. Such anger boiled over her but quickly it simmered down when she focused back on the older gentleman. “You alright?” Marinette asked, kneeling down to help him up to his feet. He was so frail, his shaky wobbly knees barely got him up to his feet. She could feel how light he was, and his hand with soft wrinkles but filled with so much warmth. He was definitely roughed up. She could only think of her own grandfather, her glossy lips forming into a frown. A few cuts around his hands, and a bruise swelling on top of his wrinkled bald head.
“We should get you to a clinic.” Marinette expressed with great concern. She took his hands gently but he shook his head, worried about his old vintage phonograph that he was shielding. Marinette prevented to pry, maybe it was a sentimental item. She took whatever leftover handmade handkerchiefs she had with her initials embroidered and dabbed it gently across his injuries.
“Okay. How about I carry it for you and we can go to the clinic? You had quite the fall.” He hesitated. “Right you just got mugged,” she let out a nervous laugh. “Totally fair, how about you hold it and I’ll protect you and make sure you get to the clinic. I’m Marinette.”
“Wang, Wang Fu.” He rasped out and smiled at the youthful girl. Marinette nodded and helped straighten him out. She dusted him off as he clutched onto his phonograph. She gave him all the patience he desired on the way to the clinic. Not once did his grip lighten his vintage music box. “Did someone give that to you?” She asked curiously. “You know, was it like a gift?”
“Something like that.” The elderly gentleman was very quiet, and hard to hear. Marinette didn’t push him, but still seemed very pleased with her presence and the rest of their walk. When they arrived, Marinette let the staff know of Fu’s incident, and answered any of their questions and concerns.
Before Fu was called, he set down the music box, taking one of her soft hands in his withered one. He grasped it with a tight hold. “Thank you. A life for a life.” Marinette humbly tried to show gratitude and shook her head. She believed anyone would step in for them. Fu held his grip, with hopeful eyes. “Please take this, a life for a life.” He repeated.
“Oh no, I couldn’t.” Marinette tried to curl his hands back into his own but he pushed forward with all of his strength. “I insist. Please take this as my gratitude.” Before Marinette could reject again, he was already walking inside to the impatient nurse that called for him several times already.
Marinette leaned forward on the metal railings of her balcony once she arrived home. She was admiring the small dark wooden octagon box with a red insignia carved into it. She inspected and admired the craftsmanship behind it. The old man Fu words echoed to her.
A life for a life.
Carefully, Marinette lifted the mysterious wooden box open, and shined out a pair of red and black spotted earrings. Her lips formed into a small smile, was he selling these? Another crafty person in the works by chance? She twisted the earrings around between her fingers. It’s gold, still shiny and new, it was so simple. Marinette’s heart began to ignite with vast inspiration. That was it! Her project! She could build off these little endearing earrings.
Completely exhausted but with determination and resilience, Marinette dumped her bag out to organize and start over on her project. She was in a time crunch now, it was time to really get serious.
Sketch papers, journals and pencils scattered across all over her floor. It was a chaos organization skill she’s mastered over the years.
Marinette cataloged the bright red color, and she flipped through so many swatches of blacks. It couldn’t be too dark but just enough for the red to shine. Was this what she needed? So many images came to her. Red dress with black specks. Fabrics listed down in her head, images accessories to match the earrings. This was it! Something new, and something different! Unique, and individualized. Something so simple and all she has to do is elevate it.
“Ladybug.” She mumbled the words. Marinette’s hands were becoming wild. Messy drawings, crumpled papers and all sorts of reds, blacks and lacy white fabric exploded everywhere in her room. Hanging on chairs, pinned around on different mannequins.
Eventually, in her chaotic sloppy process, she paused. Her arms slacking down on her desk. A bell chime was heard. Gently asking for her attention. How long has that sound been going? Where was it coming from? Marinette's eyes then peered right next to her, the spotted earrings gleaming in a small subtle pink glow. It was a soft chime calling to her. What was so enticing about them? Wear me. As if its small melody was telling her through song. Another gentle bell chime rang.
The young aspiring designer lifted them in her palms. Marinette swore she saw them blink a bright neon red, enticing her even more to replace the current ones in her ears. Another chime. Bewitched, feeling she was casted under a spell, Marinette slid out her current earrings.
A life for a life.
**
Adrien flicked the cigarette and exhaled the smoke. The last drag from the last of his pack. Nicotine soaked into him, circulating through his blood. He was exhausted from avoiding paparazzi all day. His fame had only increased not only because of his father coming off hiatus recently, but a new line being soon released. Now he was even more obligated to do certain projects for him. Modeling, acting, more simply - be a walking talking human advertisement.
“You better change if you don’t wanna smell like smoke.” His friend Nino called out with a mic snugged onto his head. Adrien helped him get jobs around the tv industry. Not only Nino’s love for movie making but also nice having a friend around.
Adrien hated going by himself to every event. His father only being a handful of times that he can count on hand. And wasn’t even there for more than 20 minutes.
“Yep.” Adrien replied dryly, then he casually lifted off the red brick alley wall. He followed Nino that led him to a changing room, taking the smoke-ridden ones away. He was dressed in his fathers recent fashion line that had yet to be released. Black cargo pants and deep olive green tight cotton shirt that just barely showed his tummy, and matched with a pitch black faux-leather jacket. He had a photoshoot, an upcoming commercial film, then it was straight home to his new apartment condo. It took a lot of convincing, prep and trust just to even be 5 minutes away from his fathers mansion. A place of his own to just be free for several hours and to sleep and eat without an overbearing anxious father. Even then, he never even showed up for dinner. Adrien knew it was all about control. Of course he would be picked up by his trusted bodyguard for his schedule. But he was free to do what he wanted if there was nothing else on his schedule. Ever since his mother died when he was fourteen, his father had only become stricter and stricter.
The photoshoot was dreadful. Why did he always have to be so touchy and close with a girl he never knew? Always draped over him like she was his accessory. “Ah-drian,” cried the overly dramatic photographer. “Please, can you just act like you have some love for her?” The model he was with pouted, arms crossed and obviously annoyed at the lack of attention he gave to her. Seriously, what was even so special about him besides genetics?
Did anyone care how he felt? What he wanted to do?
Adrien obeyed, putting on his best show and professionally trained poses. The ones that grab people’s attention, ones for women who fantasized way too often of him.
Apparently Adrien also had an interview after the commercial but he got through it, his cheeks sore from all the fake smiles and politeness he was forced to give.
Adrien had to be good, especially if he wanted to keep his apartment. “So is this the end of all luxurious parties?” One journalist asked.
Adrien kept his face steady. Honestly, didn’t give a single fuck about his image. Especially the recklessness of his past. Underage drinking and parties, unmentionables he refused to acknowledge anymore. No, that was just him asking for a cry of help. Any speck from his father to give him, but all of that was useless now. His father would just brush it underneath a rug, and continue on to grieve his wife, Adrien’s mother.
Adrien ran as fast as he could without trying to look too suspicious as soon as the interview was over. Thank god he was put into all sorts of classes, improv and acting came handy to be quick on the mind. Especially if he needed a lie just to escape a few minutes.
Adrien finally made it to the subway station. His hood up concealing his bright blonde hair, and kept to himself with music blasting in his ears. Trying to drown out the crisis of his life, his career. Adrien people watched around him, subtly nodding to the beat of his music. He was so envious of daily life. No fans, or random women and young girls following him like a pack of wild dogs. When he would see a mother and a young boy, his soul would sink. He needed someone, and he knew that deep within himself. His father was not even his father to him anymore. More like a hired roommate.
There was Nathalie, but she could be just as busy. At least she would listen to him, and make time for him. Only if he asked, never on her own accord. Adrien exasperated a defeated sigh. Watching the people go about, as they happily enjoyed their daily lives. Several of their expressions slowly fell, forming into panic. They crowded around, looking over the edges of the railways. He peered over, separated from their small group.
“There!” A small girl pointed out, “It’s a cat! Stuck on the rails!”
Adrien's head snapped and his eyes followed their direction. Without a second thought he swiftly hopped over the safety barriers. He could hear its high pitched mew for help. A black cat blending in with the dark cobblestones.
“Hey buddy,” Adrien said gently, “how’d you get stuck here?” Quickly he tried to unlatch its tiny paw, and could feel the tremble of the oncoming train. He used his long piano fingers, trained since childhood. Gently wrapping its tiny paw, it hissed from the pain. Its poor paw was visibly stuck, and the cat hissed and growled more. Adrien’s heart quickened at the sound of the screaming screeching rails. He wedged his skinny fingers underneath the rail. The train was getting closer by the second. Its blaring loud horn blasted past through his sound proof earphones.
“It’s just a cat!” Someone yelled, “you’re gonna get yourself killed, kid!” Adrien ignored the protester. If he got run over by a train, so be it. His life was over the moment his mother died. He might as well save someone else’s in exchange. The feline was also panicking at the noise. No more time to be too nice. Adrien rapidly pressed upward of his finger, squeezing the cat's paw out and tumbled backwards just as the trained sped past him in seconds. Its velocity softly sending a breeze to him that pushed down his hood, deathly kissing his face. Adrien breathed rapidly, his chest heaving up and down so fast he could feel his heart just about to burst out of his chest.
The tiny black cat used its claws to clench to his chest, too afraid to move. He could feel the sharp claws poke through the fabric of his luxurious shirt not caring about the rips. The small cat smothered his face into Adrien's chest, its ears flat and purring.
“I gotcha,” he gasped out, trying to pace his breathing from his sudden adrenaline rush. His heart still pounding from it. “I gotcha.” He repeated assuringly, while gently petting its back. Not only to comfort the cat but himself.
Adrien hopped onto the next train before any onlookers fully recognized who he was, still carrying the feline in his arms. “Guess you’re comin’ with me, friend.” The cat trembled in his arms, still fearing the unknown. Shocked from the almost incident.
Once Adrien arrived at his condo, ever so gently he placed the feline down on their full four paws. He limped with the front paw, Adrien made note of taking the cat to a vet the next morning. He would have to cancel a few things, and he had a few excuses he could use. And Nino could definitely vouch.
“Oh, you probably need to eat too huh?” He thought to himself aloud, thinking what else he would need. He never expected owning an animal, his father never let him have one for whatever unknown reasons. Control? Or maybe everything in the house was filled with so much white it would get dirty too quickly. No matter how much he begged. From hamsters, to birds, even a Sphynx cat. He only wanted to feel less alone. I’m the end he was always met with a steely soulless stare and Nathelie giving him the obvious answer right before bed.
Excitement began to lift up his spirits when he made the checklist. Toys, litterbox, cat tree? Maybe a scratch post. He remembered fondly of the old cat his aunt and his cousin Felix had. Its fur was all sorts of colors. Black, orange and white. Her name was Lizzie. Maybe he’ll come up with a cute name for them too.
Adrien smiled to himself at the memory till a bright blinking green light began to reflect into his eyes, making him rub them. He looked back over to his new friend still limping but noticing the blinking light coming from his new friend. Adrien knelt down again, was this what was stuck on the railing?
“You’ve got thumbs!” Adrien said excitedly. “May I see them? I think you got something stuck there.” The black cat gently lifted the paw, ever so slowly, Adrien removed the circular matte black metal light around the paw thumb. His feline friend zoomed away, filled with such joy that he could move properly. His tail whisked agitatedly back and forth, then sprinting to the next room it could find.
Adrien shook his head with a chortle, it was nice knowing that he wouldn’t be alone as much anymore.
He inspected the unknown object, a ring. He twirled it between his fingers curiously, completely pitch black with a single green paw. He slid it onto his right hands index finger. To his surprise, it fit with ease. It was snug but not to the point of suffocating his blood. Immediately, the color shifted into complete matte silver, now concealing the paw design. Did it change color by the heat of his body? He was sure it was also smaller with his cat friend's thumb. It glowed the same shiny green light but blinded him by its brightness.
A life for a life.
He twirled around himself at the sudden echoing words.
“What?” Adrien called out aloud, “Who’s here?” He tried to make his voice sound a bit more intimidating. But not a single sound replied to him. The only thing that did answer was a thunder rumble. Lightning flashed, he swore he saw the green paw print again.
Adrien was sure he was now hallucinating due to his exhaustion. However, he kept the ring on. Before bed, he got his new found friend a cat box, and didn't need accidents in such an expensive condo - though honestly he could use some disarray here and there. Make it look like it lived in.
He plopped onto his bed, and slept. He really needed another cigarette.
**
Marinette jolted awake at the sound of her alarm with a piece of sketch paper glued by the drool to her cheek. She had a shift for the bakery. Then eventually another class. She still wore the spotted earrings, and hurried off to get ready. But when she went to greet her family, her mother insisted on going back to bed.
“Don’t worry, you’re father and I discussed how hard you've been working. We heard you using the sewing machine.” She winked, indicating her sudden creativity. Marinette gave a nervous smile in exchange, what luck! Her class has been canceled for today so others could focus on their projects for Gabriel Agreste to return to impress.
Something seemed… off, and she couldn’t tell what. She wasn’t used to having this particular freedom. Even when she went out to have a break, she received a free coffee. This was… too much luck somehow.
CRASH!
There it was, something had to balance out. She definitely ran into someone, that’s what she gets for being so lost in thought. And of course, hot coffee already spilled and stained dark brown all over her clothes.
“Are you kidding me?” Marinette loudly complained. “Did you not look where you were goin—“ Before she could finish her complaint, she cut off her own sentence, closing her mouth tightly shut. She was baffled by the blond haired beauty who he too had coffee spilt all over him. But this wasn’t just any stranger, it was Adrien Agreste, the son of Gabriel who just critiqued her work the previous day. This wasn’t luck, no it was bad luck. Like a black cat had crossed her path, plaguing her with its chaos.
Adrien modeled everything for Gabriel, everything. She even had pictures of him hanging in her room for references, favored patterns and notes written next to him. This could not be happening.
“Actually you know what, forget it. I wasn’t the one paying attention.” She stumbled up, trying to regain her composure once again. “I’m really sorry, I can pay—“ Adrien cut her off with a hand up, shaking his head.
“Don’t bother, it’s quite the fee. I think you may want to save that for yourself.” He gestured his head toward her, his green eyes gleaming in the bright sun.
Marinette looked down at herself, compared to him — her clothes soaked in more of the liquid. Her cheeks began to ignite with hot embarrassment. “I’ll just go now.” Her voice shook with defeat. The walk of shame with literal shitty brown stained clothes would be one for the books.
“Wait,” Marinette felt her hand pulled when Adrien called out to her. His touch warm, she swore she heard that same bell chime just the day before. Adrien shrugged off his large black leather jacket. “I couldn’t let you go looking like that.”
“Oh, please.” Marinette denied, shaking her head and her hands up, “I couldn’t afford to—“
“It’s fine, I insist.” Adrien said, already circling his jacket around Marinette's small shoulders. “You can keep it.” He enclosed it, zipping it up for her with his careful, gentle piano fingers. Their gazes met, and thunder clapped above them.
“You better hurry.” He said, lifting the hood behind her. “It was nice meeting you!” His voice now echoed in the distance as he hurried off before it began to rain.
Marinette's heart thundered with the dark clouds as she sprinted back to the boulangerie.
The following morning she swore her luck got worse and worse. Because Adrien was there, in the classroom. Inspecting certain pieces with his father. He would be attending their show, both of them. Adrien most likely was going to be wearing one of Gabriel’s pieces to it. He didn’t know she was there yet and she was already petrified of him recognizing her as the girl that spilled and stained his father’s clothes. Did he mention her to him? About the clumsy ugly girl that ruined his designer clothes? And that he was forced to give his jacket to her?
“This is Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” She heard Gabriel’s monotone voice. She whirled around to give a smile. There it was, a face of recognition from Adrien, but he only smiled and nodded to her.
“Hello,” Marinette greeted, a little too cheerfully. But focused on Gabriel, trying to not to let her eyes shift to the young model. “I reflected on your criticism and I was very inspired.” She said, half a lie. “And I really wanted to incorporate a simple pattern and elevate its design.” She laid out her sketched blueprints, her mannequin still not quite finished but definitely way more than she had before on the wedding gown.
“No wedding?” Gabriel asked, silently observing her product.
“No, not this time as much as I love those. This will be more for a party gown. Ballroom or even masquerade.”
Sweetheart neckline, the gown itself lightly spotted but not overwhelming. They were like black specks of dust that gradually became bright red toward the torso.
Gabriel nodded to the project. “I agree with the new idea.” Taking a piece of the blueprint and analyzing its structure.
“It’s very different.” Adrien chimed in, “I can’t wait to see the finished product.”
“T-thank you.” She stuttered quietly. Don’t look at him, don’t look at him. There were all sorts of things Marinette wanted to ask. The overwhelming urge just to get to know him, know his deepest thoughts. But she kept that tightly shut within her. Why was she feeling that now?
When they left her workstation, Marinette collapsed into the plastic chair behind her. She finally took a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Again.
Adrien locked eyes with her once more just before he departed their classroom. He gave a tiny wave, and she felt the flush of flames spread to her face. She returned the wave back and then hid her reddened face behind her fabrics. That was so embarrassing. How could she ever redeem herself from that? And what terrible luck she had, that he showed up.
Marinette shook her head, dispelling any other thoughts that kept her distracted. There was no use in hoping to get close to him, he was way out of her league and out of reach.
She delved herself into her project then absentmindedly drifted into her daydreams on the way home.
She eventually tossed all of her things onto her chair in her bedroom she used a temporary storage area, finding herself leaning against her balcony. Marinette gazed out to her city admiring the view and the small outline of the Eiffel Tower again. The air was warm, but no breeze came to comfort her. Should she drop out? Maybe even move to a new city? Marinette hid her face in her palms as if they were still there. But Adrien’s emerald green eyes were kind, not a hint of anger but there was sorrow. Yet, he smiled and didn’t rat her out or blame Marinette for anything.
Then there was that chime again, but it was louder this time. Almost a trill. Loudly right next to her ear. She unhooked one of her earrings, flashing a neon red light with its ring. Marinette blinked, inspecting the spotted accessory closer. Was this also a device? Bluetooth connected maybe? But for what? She looked through her settings on her cell, nothing indicating that it could be connected.
It began pinging again, the neon red blinding her eyes. She could see the tiny inscription on the rings. An engraving, but she could only see it when it turned color. Her vision almost went starry eyed, but she read aloud… “Transfer—“ she rubbed her eyes. Marinette groaned in frustration, and looked one last time. “Transforme moi?”
All around her, white and pink sparkles surrounded Marinette, eventually seeping itself around her skin. She twirled around frantically, her body completely covered in red and black spots. She sprinted to her mirror, nearly knocking all of her things around her as she fully focused her gaze in her reflection. A matching spotted mask concealing her identity. Her hair perfectly pinned into long raven black pig tails with red ribbons. “W-who am I?” She gasped out, almost faltering back, unable to recognize the reflection. The side of her hip trilled, satchel a perfect spotted circle with thread. A…yo-yo?