Ailurus huffed as she swooped into the window of her house, immediately de-transforming as soon as she hit the floor. Rimmi popped into view, black eyes half-lidded with exhaustion, floating gently into her outspread palms.
"You know, next time you decide to release that ace up your sleeve, maybe do it in a more subtler fashion? Or perhaps a safer one. Yes, safer sounds good."
Annika sighed, flopping melodramatically onto her bed. She didn't answer the red fairy, choosing instead to brood as she fed her friend his beloved sugar cubes. He was right. How right he was bothered her. Whenever she had that one final plan that would stop the fighting and potentially save everyone, it was never a safe one, nor was it wise. Her accusation of Gol being reckless reflected on her own actions of recklessness. If him trying to help made him reckless, then what did it make her?
A damn moron, that's what.
She pondered her earlier dispute as Rimmi chose a quiet moment to catch his rest. All he needed now was to close his eyes and let his natural powers of rejuvenation do the rest. Annika wanted nothing more than to follow in his wake, but as she gently laid his slumbering body into his makeshift bed, she knew she had things to think about. Lots of things.
And plenty of what she could only identify as guilt to mull over.
There was no better feeling than the sensation of swirling hot water and relaxing soaps on one's body to unwind aching bones and loosen tensed muscles. Baths were a glorious creation of humanity in the eyes of Annika Dubois, sinking into the liquid that promised both life and death. Steam clouded the eyes but cleared the mind, nostrils flaring with luscious heat, the body soaking in profuse lather to cleanse any remaining pain or thoughts of pain. The bath made everything better, and in some instances, could also serve in moments of weakness for the ones that never denied themselves any-- delight.
Annika opened her grey eyes to meet the pale olive of her bathroom ceiling. Gol. That was his name. Or at least the name he chose to fit his alter ego. Was he new? Or was he always there? Was he always a part of her and their troupe of mismatched heroes? Whether he was or not bothered Annika to her core. If he was always there, why had she never noticed him? Never acknowledged him? And if he was new, why was he appearing just now?
Asking that last question was an investigation with a dead end. If she questioned Gol's existence then she should have to question Anubis', Firefly's, Tigrera's, even Ailurus'. They all emerged from thin air, no trace to their own origins. One day Ladybug and Chat Noir were on the fritz, and the next they're supplied with their own army of miraculous holders. Quite literally. There was an even amount of people sided with Ladybug as there were with Chat Noir. Each just as powerful and dangerous as the last.
Annika knew who's side she was on. She knew the minute she found out that the charm she found in her attic was that of the long lost Red Panda. She knew as she merged it with the belt. She knew when she approached her grandmother with her spandexed dilemma.
There was never a more liberating conversation in her life than the one she shared with her dear old grandmother. Having found the ribbed charm in the attic within a dusty chest buried under a centuries' worth of treasures and trash, Annika had her suspicions when the red drop-like item magically merged with an odd belt piled along with the other strange, old trinkets. And by magically, she meant brightly. And by brightly she literally meant explosively.
Like, blindingly.
A blindness that only lasted a few seconds, fortunately, before Annika's absolute astonishment took over to stare at this new thing that nearly just gave out the light in her eyes. Upon inspection, the chest revealed the only lead she had to the answers she needed. Grethel Dubois, scratched neatly into the side of the trunk, a testament to the old romance of her ancient grandmother and her long time lover and husband Markas Dubois, dear old Grandpa. If this charm and its magical capabilities were in her grandmother's chest, then her grandmother had to know something about it.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Red and Gold Create Sexual Tension
RomansThey were just two wayward heroes, vengeful, stubborn, with a pair of unique goals in mind that wouldn't stop them from destroying all of Paris nor themselves to fulfill. What they didn't expect was the find their goals to slowly change, despite all...