#and literal hailstones in my coat pocket

[alisoncooper]

coming home from a party at 1am. like. who is she.

[clarenecessities]

spooky scramble

Word Count: 1977 Rating: PG 13 for language & cartoon violence

Summary: [yakety sax plays in the distance] Chapter Warnings: fire cw, residual destruction, lots and lots of swearing

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“Adrien, I need you to get away from Nino,” came a slightly muffled version of Marinette’s voice. Adrien jumped as it issued from his makeshift collar, barely suppressing a yelp. He was on edge enough as it was; this was pushing it.

“How far?” he whispered into the earring, lifting one paw off of Nino to press the button.

“Far enough that she’d have to use more than one move to blast you both.”

“You told Nino nobody was gonna get blasted!”

“I told Nino that if everything went well, you wouldn’t get blasted. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t prepare for a worse case scenario.”

“You mean worst case scenario?”

“No, because in the worst case scenario, we all die. I don’t really know how to plan for that—the necromancers are unconscious.”

“I take it back, don’t plan for the worst case scenario,” said Adrien, shuddering as his fur tried to stand on end. “It’s giving me the heebie jeebies.”  

“The what now?”

“The heebie jeebies. The jitters. The creeps. The—”

“Stop,” Marinette interrupted with a groan. “I get it.”

“Do people not say heebie jeebies anymore?” he asked innocently.

“Did they ever say it to begin with?”

“Beats me. The aos sídhe love it, though.”

“Well, go love it someplace that isn’t Nino’s neck. We need better coverage.”

“You got it,” he agreed, laughing. He gave Nino’s jaw an affectionate headbutt, prompting the werewolf to stick out his tongue, and then leapt soundlessly to the floor.

When he wanted to be silent, Adrien could be silent.

He drifted under the walkways like a shadow, every pawstep taking him further from the comfort and safety of his friends. He felt simultaneously exposed and invisible, vulnerable to any attack and yet impossible to find in the first place.

Overhead, Alya had begun to work her magic (bother literal and figurative). From his position under one of the staircases, Adrien could see a flash of orange twisting out of the reach of what appeared to be hailstones, cackling insults in Alya’s voice.

The elemental—or whatever it was now—was shaking with rage, shrieking in a voice so high it hurt Adrien’s ears. She clutched a dark umbrella in one hand, and wherever she cast it, a type of precipitation formed and did as she bade.

“How dare you!” she screamed, hurling more hail at the illusion of Alya, which ducked and wove neatly out of the way, as if it were tangible. Adrien could only tell it wasn’t because it accidentally clipped through the railing a few times, like a bad video game.

‘Stormy Weather’ was too angry to notice.

“I’m owed that award!” she went on. “They don’t know what I’m capable of!”

“Oh, and you’re going to show them?” called Alya, rolling her eyes. “This isn’t you! You’re cheating!”

“Shut up!” shrieked Stormy Weather, hitting the entire wall with a gust of wind so strong the windows behind Alya shattered. Her illusion flickered, and Stormy Weather finally seemed to catch on, narrowed eyes latching onto the fake kitsune.

“You don’t know what I’m capable of either,” she hissed, “You’re teasing me!”

“You’re damn right I am!” said Alya, her tails waving behind her like banners. “You’re a joke! You couldn’t hit the ground if you turned into rain!”

Stormy Weather offered no reply, wheeling back towards the classroom they had been in when this had all started. Adrien could sense Alya’s magic just inside the door, and swallowed nervously—had Nooroo’s own tracking abilities transferred?

Her illusion hesitated, raising an arm to catch Stormy Weather’s attention, to no avail.

Adrien’s heart thudded in his ears.

Alya.

“Hey!” came a shout from above them.

Adrien and Stormy Weather looked up at the same moment, with drastically different reactions. Stormy Weather’s face contorted in a sour rage, while Adrien’s lit up in delight.

Overhead, Marinette hovered astride one of the brooms from the flight class, scowling down at the courtyard. Squatting behind her, perched like a gargoyle ready to pounce, Alix pulled faces at her fellow elemental with an eager aggression.

“What?” demanded Stormy Weather, raising the umbrella in front of her.

“You—you, um—”

“FUCK YOU!” Alix finished for Marinette, cupping her hands over her mouth to increase her volume. Stormy Weather howled, swinging the umbrella like a baseball bat.

Alix sprang to her feet, somehow maintaining her balance on the narrow broom, and swung her arms downward as if using a sledgehammer, summoning a huge burst of wind to counteract the wall of biting ice Stormy Weather had blown their way. The two gusts met just above the line of the roof with an enormous rumble, not unlike thunder, and Adrien felt his whiskers crackle under the magic.

Marinette held the broom steady with one hand, the other going to her ear.

“I think it’s safe to say that umbrella is the boon,” said the earring around his neck.

“Yeah, good call,” he sent back, eyes flickering from one elemental to the other as Alix and Stormy Weather traded blows.

Despite the majority of her attacks being deflected, there was a noticeable effect on the flying duo: It was getting cold up there.

Frost gathered around the tail of the broom, and even from the ground Adrien could see how red the girls’ noses were getting. Anxiously, he looked across the courtyard, meeting Nino’s frightened gaze.

What should I do? he mouthed to Adrien, shifting from one foot to the other, barely holding the change at bay.

Adrien shook his head, watching the scene unfold with a growing sense of dread. Marinette couldn’t communicate with any of them, steering the broom with both hands, so they were left to make their own plan.

When Alix almost got clobbered by an apple-sized hailstone when she had to take a break to sneeze, Nino sprang into action.

Swearing loudly, he raced into the center of the courtyard, waving his arms over his head and bouncing up and down to get Stormy Weather’s attention.

Slowly, so slowly, she turned to stare down at him with pale lavender eyes.

“You, uh—you shouldn’t—I—”

“You suck!” yelled his voice, though it seemed to be coming from where Adrien had last seen Alya’s illusion.

“What was that?” growled Stormy Weather, squinting down at him.

“You—you’re a big cheating cheater,” squeaked the real Nino, “who cheats!”

“I’ve never cheated!” she fumed.

“You’re cheating like, right now!” said Nino. Above them, Marinette slowly inched the broom to safety, nodding at Nino when he glanced nervously up at her. “I bet you couldn’t beat us without your fancy pants parasol!”

“This simply focuses my powers!” Stormy Weather protested, opening the umbrella like a shield in front of her.

“Yeah, sure,” said Nino, making a show of rolling his eyes. “Who told you that? The Mayor of Wrongsville?”

“No! Piseóg gave it to me!” said Stormy Weather. Adrien’s ears flicked forward.

Now that was interesting.

“Oh, sorry, is that the Mayor of Wrongsville? I’m behind the times, politically. Sort of got turned into a wolf last election season.”

“It’s none of your business!” she said hotly, raising the umbrella to strike. Nino gave a small eep! and scrambled back towards the cover of the balcony, but to no avail—Stormy Weather wasn’t aiming for him.

She blasted the floor beneath their feet, and a sheet of ice rolled across it, slinking beneath Nino’s feet and sending him sprawling backwards. He landed heavily on one hip.

“Ow!” he protested indignantly, scowling up at her.

Stormy Weather locked eyes with him, and raised her umbrella to strike.

There was a small ding! that echoed across the courtyard as four people got the same text message at once. Nino glanced away from Stormy Weather to his pocket. He looked back at her, held up a finger to indicate she should wait, and fished out his phone.

Stormy Weather gaped in deeply affronted silence, closing the umbrella with a snap, and wound up to swing as Nino began typing out a reply.

Ivan surged out of the shelter beneath the balcony, raising arms covered in fire in front of his face as he stepped between Nino and Stormy Weather. The torrent of hail she’d conjured collided with the flames with a loud hiss and an immediate cloud of steam that practically exploded off of Ivan.

Recoiling with a displeased hiss almost as loud as the steam’s, Stormy Weather propelled herself backwards across the courtyard, almost colliding with an icicle-coated basketball hoop in her haste to get away.

The steam spread itself evenly as Ivan’s warmth reached the ice-slick floor, cloaking the boys in a thick brume that disguised their retreat back under the walkways. Nino, who was being carried over Ivan’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes, sent a jaunty wave Adrien’s way.

Adrien grinned in relief, sliding through the shallow puddles across the middle of the courtyard, shaking his paws with every soggy step. The steam was warm against his fur, but it clung unpleasantly and threatened to form drops of condensation on his whiskers.

“Oh!” said a soft voice above him, and he looked up at the gentle tone, expecting Marinette.

It wasn’t Marinette.

“A cat,” said Stormy Weather, softer than they’d heard her speak throughout the entire ordeal. She floated towards him slowly, the umbrella held slack in one hand, tantalizing close.

A second ding! sounded from every direction, as if heralding the figurative lightbulb that had just appeared over his head. The noise bolstered his courage; he had backup.

“Mrrow?” he called, letting his voice roll into an almost-purr as he delicately approached Stormy Weeather, where she drifted just out of reach about a third of the way down the court.

“Here, kitty,” she cooed, touching down and dropping into a crouch, holding her free hand out to Adrien. He approached slowly, hesitantly, sniffing at her fingers as if they might zap him at any moment.

Which, to be fair, they might.

Stormy Weather clucked encouragingly at him, reaching out to tentatively brush the side of his face with the palm of her hand. He leaned into the contact with a loud purr, arching his body so she got his back. Her hand was freezing, though fortunately not literally, and he tried to keep it along his spine where he could put up with it more.

As he wound his way around her knees, he saw her grip tighten ominously on the umbrella.

She suddenly stood, whirling despite Adrien’s yowl of protest, summoning a huge burst of freezing air at whoever had been sneaking up on her that Adrien hadn’t noticed to warn, and—

Juleka blinked in surprise, floating peacefully exactly where she’d been a moment before, none the worse for wear. Stormy Weather blinked back, obviously confused.

“Um,” Juleka said softly, pushing a lock of hair from her eyes and glancing Adrien’s way, “Marinette says, ‘now.’”

Adrien sprang immediately to his feet, surging back into his human form and snatching Stormy Weather’s umbrella from her gloved hands. She shrieked in shock and fury, wheeling on him instantly, but he danced away, breaking into a sprint as he turned and—

slammed heavily into the pavement as he slipped in one of the puddles.

His knees took the brunt of the impact, and he could feel the sting of loose gravel in one, his torn jeans sopping wet from the collision. His breath caught in pain, and he glanced over his shoulder to see a fuming Stormy Weather stalking towards him like she was the cat, and he was the prey.

He squeezed his eyes shut, hugging the umbrella to his chest, shielding it with his body, hoping he’d bought somebody enough time to do something—

There was a tremendous crash, and the ground shook beneath him, and everything grew still.