#rc9gn snippet

[ladylynse]

A RC9GN ficlet that's a prequel to this three sentence fic, as my half of a fic/art trade with @imadumdumjewel.

In which Viceroy learns of his father's death.

Also on AO3

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“He’s gone.”

Viceroy’s mother had never been one to mince words, but the death of Willem Viceroy II had practically stolen them from her entirely.

They’d been stolen from Viceroy too, clearly, or he’d be doing something other than staring blankly at his computer screen while still holding to his ear the phone he technically was not supposed to answer during work hours.

Not that he’d ever abided by that, especially with McFist. Work hours for McFist were hardly normal work hours. Viceroy made sure he was paid his overtime, and that overtime was substantial. If he didn’t take a personal call now and then, he’d have no contact with anyone outside of McFist Industries except when he dragged his sleep-deprived body to mundane places like the grocery store.

And he’d never been one to ignore his mother.

Typically, his parents never wanted to bother him while he was at work, always apologizing whenever they did, so when Eva had called now—

He’d known something must have happened.

When she’d spoken, the sudden pain inside him had solidified and settled over his lungs, making it difficult to breathe. He hadn’t been able to find the words to ask, but some part of him had known even before she cleared her throat and choked out a clarification. “Your father. He’s gone.”

What was he supposed to say to that? How? Why? When? His father hadn’t been sick. There had been nothing in the news in terms of accidents. Viceroy always made very sure that no WNDs ever tracked to that side of town, to the point that the old neighbourhood had gained the reputation of being a safe one to live in. His diligence meant the neighbourhood itself was turning around, becoming revitalized. His parents enjoyed—

No.

Not his parents, not anymore.

Now it was just his mother.

“Wim? You still there?”

Right.

He hadn’t said anything, had he?

“What happened?” It came out as a croak, though some part of Viceroy was surprised the words made it past the lump in his throat at all. It felt too large for anything to slip by, and the iron banding his chest was hardly helping matters.

He couldn’t see the computer screen in front of him any longer; it was all a blur of bright white and colour, even once he blinked and the tears started to fall.

“He wasn’t feeling well.” Eva’s words came in a rush, and suddenly one sentence was tumbling over the next like she was trying to get the words out before her voice failed her again. “I took him into the hospital two days ago, and he was feeling better after a transfusion. They ran their tests and thought he’d be discharged tomorrow. He didn’t want to worry you with it. It—” Her voice cracked. “It wasn’t supposed to be anything serious. His heart….”

She didn’t finish, but she hardly needed to. Viceroy knew about the family heart. It had taken Uncle Otto three years ago, his grandmother Maud before his parents had even gotten married, and had had Aunt Mila in and out of the hospital with one problem or another for years. His father had (had had) a pacemaker, but he’d always been fine beyond that. A little out of breath whenever he had to walk any distance, sure, and on a fistful of medications to manage potential problems before they could crop up and make things worse, but—

Viceroy hadn’t realized it was this bad.

He would have taken some of his vacation time if he’d known.

He wouldn’t have taken his last vacation in France if he’d known.

It had been six weeks since he’d seen his parents despite them living across town, and he’d only seen them then because he’d specifically made sure he could be there for his mother’s birthday supper. And to check in on Nicolas, technically, but they knew to keep him away from fire. They’d been as smitten with him as Viceroy had been—and still was—so when he’d asked if they’d give Nicolas a proper home in the first place and they’d agreed, he hadn’t been worried. Inability to take care of someone, even if that someone wasn’t strictly another person, had never been a failing of theirs.

“I-I should have been there,” Viceroy said, his words sounding thick and garbled as he forced them out. It felt as if a stone had lodged in his throat, and he had to take shallow breaths to avoid breaking down entirely. There was plenty of time for that later. If he just didn’t think about it—

But he couldn’t think about anything else.

Especially not right now.

His father—

Viceroy sniffed and reached up to wipe his face with a tissue before the tears could run any farther. Not that it would help much—enough tears had already tracked into his beard before he’d found something—but he’d need the tissue for his nose in a moment anyway. If he hadn’t been wearing his lab coat, he might’ve used his sleeve for the tears, maybe even for his nose, but just because he didn’t always work in a lab, it didn’t mean he wanted what was on his lab coat anywhere near the sensitive tissues of his face.

But that didn’t matter right now.

What mattered was that he should have been there and he hadn’t been. He hadn’t even known. Part of him wanted to lash out and say you should have told me, but he knew why they hadn’t. He was busy at work, he had all those important secret projects to do, they didn’t want to bother him— They gave him back the same excuses he gave them whenever he was using his work at McFist Industries to get out of attending family functions that turned his stomach into knots, and his parents added a few of their own excuses to boot.

He hadn’t perfected time travel yet—the latest attempt where he’d thought he’d gotten it right had turned out to be an unmitigated disaster, and the memory of the smell still haunted him sometimes—but even once he did hammer out all the kinks, going back to all of this would be less of an option for him the more he learned about the situation.

It wouldn’t be an option at all, really. He couldn’t simply not learn about this situation. He needed to know things. Besides, who knew how long it would take him to successfully time travel? Trying to slip back for one more visit would only help him if he figured things out soon, before he’d changed to a point that it would be noticeable.

Some rules were made for the breaking, but others were very much there for a reason.

Revealing anything that might be useful for the ultimate domination or destruction of the world had never been encouraged at MSU; too many other aspiring mad scientists had eyes and ears everywhere, ready to snatch up research or ideas to use for themselves. When Viceroy did perfect time travel, McFist would be the only one to know about it.

Well, McFist and the Sorcerer, because McFist was almost certain to tell the Sorcerer.

And Marci, come to that. McFist couldn’t keep secrets from Marci. Not without her knowing he was trying to keep a secret from her and letting him keep it despite that, anyway. But no one else would know, and that’s how Viceroy intended to keep it until he was ready to pull his big move.

He had no idea how he’d start any of that, though, and now wasn’t the time to try. He should get to the hospital. Or his parents’ home? Was Eva home? They’d given up their landline last year, so it was no surprise that she was calling from her cellphone, but—

“Do you think you can get tonight off?”

Technically, Viceroy was supposed to have every night off.

His mother knew it didn’t work that way.

“I’ll get off now,” he said. His own words still sounded hollow, distant, like he wasn’t the one speaking at all. Otto, chiming in that the newest WND was ready for testing, sounded more real than he did.

“No,” Eva said, and Viceroy wondered if she could hear Otto as well as he could. “We—I—know how busy you are. Tonight is fine. Mila came to stay with me.”

Aunt Mila had come. She lived half a day’s drive from here. When had she heard that her brother was in the hospital? When had she suspected she might not see him again if she didn’t go when she had the chance? When had she known that she’d been right?

Viceroy managed to say something in response, though he forgot what the words were the moment they left his mouth. Gratitude? Protest, an insistence that he come immediately anyway? Something that didn’t actually make sense?

Whatever it was, Eva accepted it, so it must have made some amount of sense.

Maybe he’d said I’ll get there when I can. He planned to get there when he could, and he planned for that to be almost immediately, but he still had to go through McFist.

Not drive, though.

Probably wouldn’t be a good thing to drive right now.

He’d borrow a Robo-Ape.

“I love you,” Eva said, and Viceroy echoed it immediately. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d said it to his father; he wasn’t going to ignore the opportunity to say it to his mother when it was true in both cases.

Eva hung up, and Viceroy found himself listening to the dial tone. When he did finally hang up, he stared numbly at the phone in his hand. He’d had opportunities to see his parents in the last six weeks. Why hadn’t he taken them? Why had he always made excuses? Why had he always counted on the fact that there’d be another time, when he was a little less busy, a little less stressed?

Otto piped up again with, “Construction on the Robo-Spider is completed, sir. It is ready for testing. Would you like to commence testing?”

Viceroy put a hand to his chest instead of answering. He could feel the hole that had opened inside his heart like the entire thing had been gouged out of his chest, and it ached. Digging his fingers into his flesh was a different sort of pain, but it did nothing to negate the abyss inside.

“—ider is completed, sir. It is—”

“Otto.” It shouldn’t be this hard to talk. Viceroy cleared his throat, blew his nose, and tried for something louder than a whisper. “Halt all WND construction and testing for the week.” He wanted to say two weeks, but he wanted a job to come back to, and taking two weeks without telling McFist first would involve grovelling. He could update the order remotely once McFist knew.

McFist might not want to wait, but he’d wait if he knew what was best for him. If the Sorcerer convinced him to override Viceroy’s orders, fine. The man wasn’t a complete idiot. He shouldn’t manage to destroy the town just because Viceroy was taking an impromptu vacation. If nothing else, the Ninja would take care of things.

Viceroy had high hopes for his WNDs, but he did not have high hopes for projects where he didn’t have the last word before they were deployed.

Unfortunately, with McFist’s eagerness, the latter was more common than the former, and the Ninja had only grown more competent. Somehow.

He was also incredibly lucky, which really seemed to be the determining factor in most of his battles, but Viceroy was sure that luck would run out one day.

But not in the next week.

Viceroy was not unlucky enough for that to happen in the next week. Or even two.

Viceroy took a deep breath as he finally pocketed his phone, hoping that would steady him, but it shuddered in and out of his chest like each smaller breath had before it.

Maybe he’d just leave McFist a note. Give it to a Robo-Ape to pass on. Then he wouldn’t have to try to figure out how to say any of this. He wouldn’t have to say anything. A sticky note would do. He’d be able to write legibly enough without being able to see perfectly clearly. All he’d need is a line or two, maybe three. Taking a week’s leave for a family emergency. Maybe two. WNDs not ready for deployment.

It was McFist.

Viceroy didn’t need to be eloquent.

He scribbled the note, buzzed for a Robo-Ape, and returned to his desk after passing off the note to rest his head in his hands. He just…. He needed a minute. Maybe more than a minute. He couldn’t—

How could his father just be gone?

Viceroy felt the lump growing larger in his throat as tears swelled again in his eyes. No. He couldn’t break down now. Later. It had to be later. If he didn’t think about it for now, he could get through these next few minutes, and then the few after those, and then—

Then—

He’d never gotten the chance to say goodbye.

Viceroy wiped at his nose again and sucked in another breath, pushing the thought away and raising his head. “Otto.” Why did his voice have to crack? “Arrange for a car and driver to be out front in ten minutes.”

That should give him enough time to assure himself that the important processes were winding down correctly and nothing would explode in the meantime. He’d leave his lab coat on its hook at the door and leave the rest of his things where they were; there wasn’t anything he needed to take with him that he didn’t already have. He hadn’t had lunch, true, but his planned lunch had been coffee, and he didn’t have the appetite for even that right now.

For all that his stomach had decided it didn’t need to make itself known, though, the clawing ache in his chest was only growing worse. He was going to get to his parents’ place (his mother’s place) and take one look at his mother and start crying all over again. He wasn’t sure he could be the strong one for her. They’d have to be strong together.

There would be so much to do. Calling the rest of the family would be well underway by the time he arrived, he was sure, but there was talking to the funeral home and arranging for the burial and everything involved with the ceremony itself (the date, the location, the casket, the flowers, the service, maybe a second service, the officiant—and the plot? Had his father ever bought a plot at the cemetery? Had he picked out a specific one if he had bought one?). And they’d need to write the obituary and get it into the paper, and then deal with the bank, the lawyer, the accountant. Get copies of the death certificate. Get bills and titles and whatever else switched over to Eva’s name, anything that wouldn’t transfer automatically.

They wouldn’t have to worry about food, at least. Viceroy knew his relatives, and he knew his parents’ friends. As soon as the news spread, they’d receive enough food to feed a small army.

It was getting easier to breathe.

If Viceroy just focused on what needed to be done instead of why it needed to be done, he could get through the next two minutes, and then the next five, and maybe the next five after that.

Viceroy had nearly finished checking over the production plans when the door to his lab slammed open, which only meant one thing.

McFist was here.

“Do you have a real family emergency or did you get some crazy idea into your head like baking a birthday cake for your beard?” McFist demanded.

Viceroy could hear him stomping across the room, but he didn’t bother looking over. McFist’s ramblings didn’t really deserve an answer. A family emergency was explanation enough.

“You’re not taking a week either way,” continued McFist. “We can’t just shut down production of the WNDs. I promised the Sorcerer—”

He broke off, and Viceroy looked over at him. He’d finished up the important stuff, anyway.

McFist’s anger, always so blatant in his features when he was upset, was no longer etched into every line of his face. Instead, something that might actually be genuine concern had settled there. “We on a deadline for the end of the world? One of your old college buddies do something you can’t turn to your advantage?”

Viceroy tried to smile. He wasn’t sure it came across as a smile. “I wouldn’t call it a family emergency if that were the case.” His voice sounded thick, almost hoarse, and he expected that he didn’t look any better than he sounded. He sniffed and tried clearing his throat again. “I’ll be taking my two weeks.”

“One,” countered McFist, but the usual growl wasn’t in his voice. “And a half.”

Viceroy nodded, locked his computer, and got to his feet.

He’d get the full two weeks in the end regardless of what McFist said now. If nothing else, Marci would insist on it when she found out. Viceroy was confident in that much.

“I’ll get you a car,” McFist said as Viceroy strode past him towards the door.

“I’ve already got one waiting, sir.”

“You’re not supposed to—!” McFist cut himself off, and Viceroy looked back at him from the door as he removed his lab coat. “Right. Well.” McFist glanced at Otto, which had entered power-saving mode and settled onto the desk when Viceroy had locked his computer. “Anything in this place going to run without you?”

“It would be best if you waited for my return before attempting the capture the Ninja, sir.” That wasn’t precisely the answer to McFist’s question, but it was the answer he needed to hear.

McFist grumbled something under his breath. Then, “What about a progress report?”

Viceroy smiled—not because he particularly felt like smiling but because McFist had asked for the one thing he could get without Viceroy’s help, and it was a relief that his last request was an easy one. “Ask Otto to print one for you.”

Viceroy didn’t stick around to see how the printing went.

For the first time since his trip to France, he put work completely and utterly out of his mind.

Of course, without that to occupy his thoughts, they inevitably returned to his mother’s call and the hole that had been left in his life with his father’s unexpected absence.

It didn’t feel real yet.

He suspected it wouldn’t feel real until his father wasn’t there to greet him with the usual pat on the back.

But even that thought—

Viceroy drew in a careful breath, blinked back tears, and tried to maintain a semblance of control until he was in the car and headed for his parents’ place. He wasn’t sure he’d been entirely successful, but no one had stopped him. The Robo-Ape driving him had politely inquired if he wished for conversation and had kept his silence when Viceroy had declined, but that was protocol. He’d speak if Viceroy was the one to strike up the conversation now, of course, and Viceroy thought perhaps he should, just to keep his thoughts from spinning, but….

He needed this time. This silence. Loss was a weight, he was realizing, and though it was lodged in his chest, it hadn’t properly settled. It would weigh him down either way, constant as the heartache, but he wouldn’t get a proper measure of it until it had sunk in.

It wouldn’t drown him.

Objectively, he knew that.

There were too many others with him, too many who would keep him close and help him keep his head up. There was comfort in that. He wasn’t alone, and he wouldn’t be the only rock for his mother, either. But he still—

He still felt lost.

Viceroy leaned his head against the cool glass of the side window, ignoring the occasional jostling of the car as best he could, and let the tears fall where they would.

He’d get through the rest of today, somehow, even when everything he saw reminded him of his father and he had to face anew the realization that they’d never have another conversation, another laugh, another bet.

He’d get through tonight, even though he already suspected his thoughts wouldn’t settle long enough for him to sleep a wink of it.

He’d find a way to get through tomorrow and the day after that, too.

He’d just need to live his life in little moments for the foreseeable future, tiny chunks of time that didn’t seem as insurmountable as an entire day, let alone anything beyond that.

Yes.

He could find a way to do that.

For his father.

(see more fics)

[thesoundofmadness]

uhhhh fuck hold on Say, summer right? Norrsivile is hot as fuck, so time to go to the pool! Bc of ninja attacks, school is stretched into the summer, so, Randy and classmates go down to the lake for a school swim. Randy, with the shit ton of scars from fights and being ripped as hell, lies and says he's afraid of the water. and thus, bullshit goes down. Howard knows why randy is lying, and just goes along with it.

Oooo I like this. Here me out: what if Howard didn’t know about all of Randy’s scars? (Also thanks for waiting and thanks for earlier, you have no idea how much that means to me)

“Cunningham come on! I’m dying out here!” Randy hears Howard whining from outside. He sighs.

“You know you don’t gotta wait for me, dude!” Randy yells back. “Go and start swimming, I’ll be out in a minute!”

“You can’t swim alone!”

“Just go hang with Bucky or something!”

Howard groans loudly. “Just hurry up, will you?”

Randy sighs again and looks at himself in the mirror. Scars, stretch marks, bruises, blood marks, you name it, were lined all over his body. It was almost…. scary to look at. No normal kid should have this many scars and bruises. But then again…. He wasn’t exactly normal, was he?

“I can’t go out looking like this….” He says to himself. “If someone notices….” He looks towards the ninja mask sitting on the railing.

“You know what, Howard? I-I think I’m just gonna go home….”

“What? Why??” Howard asks, yelling back to him.

“I’m….”

‘Quick, Cunningham! Think of an excuse!’ Randy thinks to himself.

“….Scared of the water….? I-I mean, what if there’s…. sharks in there??”

“Since when were you scared of swimming??” Howard replies. “And why would there be sharks in Lake LaRusso??? It’s a lake!”

“I…. I just am, okay? Go hang out with Bucky….”

Oh no. Howard knew that tone of voice too well. Cunningham is DEFINITELY lying, and looking for a way out. Something was wrong. Question is, should he just…. Let him leave and go hang out with Hensletter? Or help him?

Howard looks to the lake of swimming teenagers. Bucky was trying to impress Flute Girl with rocks he found on the sand. Howard groans.

“I really don’t want to go hang with Hensletter…. Cunningham you owe me for this.”

Howard walks into the changing room.

“I can’t go out like this, I can’t….”

Howard walks towards the scared voice of his friend. He finds him in his swimming shorts, head hung over the sink, looking at himself. He wasn’t expecting the…. scars all over his back.

“Cunningham, are those….?”

“Ah!” Randy jumps and flips around, showing his torso and chest filled with even more leftover wounds. “H-Howard! Why are you….”

Randy looks down at himself, and quickly tries to cover himself up with his arms.

“…..Are those from….?”

“…..Yeah….”

Howard knew the battles were rough on him, but wow. Those were a lot of scars.

“Is that why you don’t want to swim, Cunningham?” Howard asks with concern.

“…..Yeah…. I just…. What am I supposed to say if people ask? What if McFist shows up and notices, and figures out I’m the ninja from that?”

“Dude, McFist is an idiot. There’s no way he would figure out you’re the ninja by a bunch of scars.” Howard comforts him.

“I know I just….” Randy looks at himself again. “….Can we please just go home? Or go to the Gamehole or Charlie Cluckers or… somewhere where I have to have a shirt on? I…. Don’t want to look at these anymore….”

A pang of guilt hits Howard.

“…..Yeah, sure. Get changed, I’ll be outside.”

“Thanks….”

[ladylynse]

Trick or treat!

“Ninja!”

Everything hurt.

Way too much.

Randy had been thrown into stuff as the Ninja before, but this was…. It was like his suit hadn’t protected him at all. It had, obviously, because he was conscious and aware enough to feel everything from his pounding head to the explosive pain that came when he tried to move his right arm, and he was still breathing even if that breath came in shallow little gasps that didn’t seem to do him any good, but—

He should be getting up right now.

He didn’t think he could.

“Oh my cheese, Ninja, are you okay?”

Randy tried to blink his eyes back open. Who was that? It wasn’t Howard’s voice.

“Of course he’s not okay. Look at him.”

Wait.

Randy forced his eyes open again and willed them to focus. “Theresa? Debbie?” He heard sounds leave his mouth. He had definitely made sounds. He was not sure he had said actual words.

“Don’t try to talk.” That was definitely Debbie. “You crashed through like two floors. I’m going to be surprised if you can move, let alone talk.”

“He’s bleeding.” Theresa’s voice might ordinarily be quiet, but everything sounded loud to him right now. “His hair….”

Wait. His hair? He was still in his suit. She shouldn’t be able to see his hair. He rubbed his fingers together. Definitely cloth. He was still in the suit. So why—?

“Sorry, Ninja,” Debbie said. “I wanted to unmask you, but I didn’t expect it would be like this.”

“No, wait,” Randy said, or tried to say, but her arm was already reaching towards his face, so he did the logical thing and tried to stop her.

And then screamed because trying to move his arm had been a very bad idea.

“It’s okay,” Theresa assured him. Her voice gave him something to focus on other than the pain, so he tried to listen as he sucked in shuddering breaths. “It’s okay. We’re here and we’re going to help you, Ninja. And we won’t tell anyone who you are, we promise. Right?”

He didn’t hear any answering agreement.

“Right, Debbie? Come on, you have to promise to keep this between the three of us, for his sake.”

“Fine,” Debbie ground out after an eternity, “but only if I get some answers after all of this.”

He could feel hands back at his neck, and this time, he couldn’t bring himself to try to stop the prying fingers from digging under his mask and slowly lifting it up.

The suit disappeared in a flourish, but Randy had already shut his eyes by that point.

It was so hard to keep them open.

He wasn’t worried about the suit, anyway.

It would repair itself.

It always did.

“Randy?” Theresa’s voice sounded strangled, and Randy tried to look at her. There was something like horror etched onto her features, but it was mixed with something else. Concern, maybe? Disbelief? Her face was too fuzzy for him to tell.

“Oh, we are going to have words when this is over, Cunningham,” Debbie murmured, and there was far less venom in her voice than he was used to hearing.

Maybe he was dreaming.

Yeah, that would make sense. This was all a dream. He’d wake up in the morning and laugh about this with Howard.

Dreams didn’t hurt this much usually, though.

“Come on,” one of the girls said; he wasn’t sure which at this point. “Let’s get you somewhere safe.”

Ask box trick-or-treating - receive a snippet if you drop by - Happy Halloween, everyone!

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[ladylynse]

Chapter 14 [FF | AO3] of Whirlwind (SQ fic): Jake should be used to ominous predictions by now. Randy should know better than to blindly follow McFist. Adrien should think twice before sneaking away. And Danny should’ve expected something like this when he got that phone call.

Previous | Timeline post

-|-

7:54 PM

Adrien raced for the rooftop door that would lead back into the hotel, knowing that’s where Hawk Moth would have gone. He should have risked taking Hawk Moth’s Miraculous while he’d been frozen, despite not knowing what that would have done to Danny or the imprisoned kwami. He should have known what Hawk Moth would do once free, attacking not him but the more vulnerable Susan to distract them. He should have realized that Hawk Moth would know of Randy’s smoke bombs from his earlier appearances and would use that to his advantage.

He should have anticipated all of that, and he hadn’t.

Of course, until Danny had reached up and pulled him out of Dracona’s talons and through the rooftop, he’d been contemplating the best use of his Cataclysm. Collapsing the roof below him wouldn’t have guaranteed escape, not when Dracona would fly, and he hadn’t been sure he wouldn’t accidentally touch something organic if he’d tried to strike anything else. Activating Cataclysm when Hawk Moth came to take his ring would have bought him five minutes, and his plan had come to rest on hoping for rescue within those five minutes (and subsequently asking Randy for a weapon he could safely destroy).

But even though his partners had come through for him, none of this had ended well.

When Hawk Moth had tackled Randy and slipped a smoke bomb from one of his pockets (and who knew what else; Randy hadn’t exactly gone through his pockets that Adrien had noticed), Adrien had still been moving towards Susan. He hadn’t acted fast enough to stop her from being attacked, even when he knew how quick Hawk Moth could be. It would be different if Ladybug were here, but she wasn’t, and he knew how important it was to get Susan medical attention when all the damage done couldn’t be reversed.

He hadn’t reached Susan before Jake. He hadn’t even made it to her side before Randy had been back on his feet, grabbing his arm and saying he’d take care of this, that Adrien—Nino, because he hadn’t trusted them with his name—should go after Hawk Moth. Danny had said he and Jake would find the akuma and bring it back to him, but Adrien had been willing to let the akuma go, let Hawk Moth go, to try to save Susan, even when he wasn’t the best equipped to do that.

First aid training would have gotten him only so far.

Hawk Moth was out of sight by the time Adrien flung open the door and bolted into the stairwell. He took the stairs two at a time, but the only footsteps he could hear was his own, and he didn’t catch any fleeting glimpses of anyone else.

That meant Hawk Moth would have transformed, and Adrien had no idea who he was beneath the mask. Adrien could hope to get lucky and catch someone with his build in one of the hallways, but he wouldn’t know for sure, and even if Hawk Moth had exited the stairwell on the top floor, he could easily have gone for the elevator or another staircase if not back to his room.

He’d hesitated, and now Hawk Moth was gone.

Adrien stopped, scanned for hidden cameras on the off chance that he’d be lucky and Hawk Moth hadn’t seen one, but of course there was nothing, at least not where he stood right now, and any blind spot would have been noted by Hawk Moth. He’d likely scouted out the entire building before using it. But if he’d deemed it safe to transform, then it was safe to Adrien to do the same, even if that meant he couldn’t take a look at security tapes to figure this out.

Adrien sat down on the stairs, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. “Claws in, Plagg.”

“Did you want me to stick close to the ceilings and zip through the rooms?”

Adrien’s lips twitched into a smile and he looked up. Plagg didn’t often to volunteer to help like that without saying he’d do it in exchange for camembert. “He won’t still be Hawk Moth.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“What I mentioned to Danny before he took me back up to the roof,” Adrien said quietly. “Get a copy of the hotel registry. It might not lead to anything—this still might not be his hotel—but I can’t think of anything else. Danny said he was happy to go to the surrounding hotels, too, and get copies of their registries, but I just don’t…. What if it doesn’t help? Is it worth stealing that information, compromising all those people’s privacy, if it doesn’t help us? He might not have used his real name.”

Plagg snorted. “Why would he be that careful right now? He didn’t know you were here.”

“But he had to know that others would be. He was trying to draw people out. I’m sure he was looking for something to use against us, maybe even another Miraculous.” Adrien groaned and buried his head again. “I was so close. I should have just risked it and taken his Miraculous. At least then I’d know his face. I don’t know how I’d find him from that, but it would’ve been better than nothing. I could’ve talked to Nathaniel and commissioned a drawing to give to Ladybug, and—”

“You and the others still stopped him from getting what he came for,” Plagg interrupted. “You know he’s here. You know he’s close. Do you really think he’s going try something a third time? No. That’s too risky for him. He’ll lay low. So, if you get a list of names and room numbers, I can look for Nooroo and report back.”

It was enough to coax a brief chuckle out of Adrien; trust Plagg to completely ignore legality and the questionable morality of this idea.

“It’s like knowing you can buy cheese somewhere on the block, or somewhere in the store, and not knowing precisely where to find it. You don’t need to unmask Hawk Moth right now to get closer to the truth.”

“What if Ladybug thinks I wasted this opportunity?”

“She’s not that sort of person.” When Adrien raised his head, Plagg continued, “You’re doing her a disservice if you think she’ll jump to blaming you for not doing on your own what you haven’t managed to do together.”

“But this is the closest we’ve ever been to getting his Miraculous.”

“And it’s the closest he’s been to getting yours. You’ve been close to Hawk Moth before. You’ll get close to him again. Ladybug will be happy that you made it out of this with your identity intact.”

Adrien smiled; it really was nice to hear that. “Thanks.” Plagg opened his mouth, maybe to demand his camembert, but Adrien added, “I’m not going to make it out of this with my identity intact, though. Not completely. I want to tell the others who I am. They deserve to know.”

Plagg, who hadn’t closed his mouth, just said, “Having allies isn’t a bad thing. If you and Ladybug ever work with more Miraculous users, at least one of you will know who they are.”

“So you don’t think telling these guys is a bad idea?”

Plagg shrugged, as best he could ever shrug, and flicked his tail. “They know about the magical world, are already keeping secret identities, and have done their best to help you. You could make a worse choice than them.” He paused, then added, “Besides, it’s not like they don’t know what you look like without a mask on. If they hang around here and look at any of the signs, they won’t need to be geniuses to figure out your real name.”

Adrien winced. “Good point.”

“Can I get some cheese before we go back up? Since I make such good points and all?”

Adrien glanced towards the roof. “Do you think Susan will, um, need help we can’t give her? Should I have called an ambulance the moment I realized I wasn’t going to catch Hawk Moth?”

“They would’ve done that already if they figured they needed to.”

“Randy doesn’t have a phone right now. Remember what he was saying to Jake before?”

“Remember when I told you the Ninja had magic? Or at least magical artefacts helping him to use magic? Some ninjas know the art of healing. It’s a handy thing to have in the field. Even if this one doesn’t, the others had phones they could’ve given him, and Susan might’ve had a phone with her, too.” Plagg zipped closer. “You’ve decided to trust them. You can trust them. The fact that Hawk Moth escaped doesn’t mean they can’t trust you, and Susan will recover even without Tikki’s—Ladybug’s—magic. We have enough time for you to give me some cheese.”

Adrien wasn’t about to argue that, so he pulled out some cheese for Plagg as his way of saying thank you and then got to his feet and started climbing the stairs. He’d transform again before going back out; he was sure Susan would keep his secret since she was Jake’s mother, but he hadn’t exactly scouted the area for cameras. Once he’d assured himself that Susan was all right and he helped her get oriented again, they could fill her in on in what had happened. It was kinder for someone to do that rather than to leave them to find out themselves on the news, though he and Ladybug usually passed the task off to friends or family or a helpful bystander because they didn’t have the time to stick around.

If Jake and Danny were successful in finding the akuma, he’d have to figure out a way to contain it until Ladybug could purify it. He’d never heard if the others had found anything suitable. There hadn’t been time to ask. If only Hawk Moth had recalled the akuma—

But he hadn’t, which meant this problem remained.

One thing at a time.

One step at a time.

“Plagg, claws out!”

7:58 PM

There were noticeably fewer people out on the streets as they got nearer to the gala, but Haley still hadn’t expected to run into a blockade when access hadn’t been restricted earlier. Rotwood split off—she saw him heading for a cluster of people, no doubt to start spreading rumours that were too close to the truth to be of any comfort—and McFist engaged the security officer in conversation. She dawdled nearby, and when he pulled out his wallet, she ducked into the forbidden area and sprinted for that initial patch of ice.

Just because she usually didn’t break the rules, didn’t mean she couldn’t.

Besides, this wasn’t nearly as bad as setting a building on fire.

Haley didn’t wait long before she started lobbing Ninja Cold Balls. Most of them were aimed behind her because she had been followed, but as the balls burst apart and spread ice, it grew into a meandering pathway that followed her zigzagging run. It didn’t make a particular pattern and certainly wasn’t the giant rink that McFist and Rotwood had been envisioning, but the result was a ribbon-like trail that stretched from one side of the cordoned-off area to the other. She hurled the last Ninja Cold Ball at someone who’d tried approaching her from the side and slipped away, running for cover.

The fact that the ice was incredibly slippery and that made following her more difficult was a bonus.

She kept running until she was far enough ahead to take a corner and lose everyone behind her. An alley wasn’t a dead end when you were a dragon, at least not when it was somewhere without cameras, so she was on the rooftops by the time someone ran by below.

Haley took a moment to catch her breath, dismissing her wings so she could lie flat on the roof and stare up at the sky. She had no idea if Rotwood and McFist would be able to do anything to hold up their end of this plan. She had no idea how Jake and the others were faring. She had no idea if Gramps and Fu and Sun—

Haley wrinkled her nose. Something smelled like stale gasoline and…. Ethanol? No, that wasn’t right. She wasn’t sure what it actually was, but whatever it was, it was foul. She sat up, scanning the streets below before she realized the thrumming she could hear wasn’t coming there. Haley looked to the skies.

The dragon that glided towards the site of the gala wasn’t terribly big. It was smaller than Jake, maybe half his size. It tilted, circled the building, and then settled on the roof with something that would more appropriately be called a crash.

One wing never folded, and after about ten seconds, the other wing creaked out to join the first. The dragon perched there like a gargoyle, although the image was completed when it spouted a brief flash of fire instead of water.

Haley barely took the time to make sure the coast was clear before she jumped off the roof, calling out her wings as she fell to soften her landing. They disappeared as her feet touched the ground, and she kept running. She wasn’t the only person heading back to the scene, even if the crowd was thinner than it had been earlier, so her haste didn’t make her stand out. Ahead of her, people were already starting to gather and point upwards….

This couldn’t be McFist; there was no way he’d be able to act this quickly, even with his resources, and this was beyond Rotwood. It had to be—

“There you are, kiddo!” McFist said, catching her arm and jerking her back painfully as she ran past him. He didn’t seem to notice her whimper, instead pointing up at the building and the dragon that loomed over them all. “Look what Viceroy made! A Robo-Dragon! I’ve already called him and informed him he’s getting a bonus. He was too startled for words. It was great. He’s never speechless. I had to reward it, though. This is quick work, even for him, and sending it here to test it out on the NYC Ninja was a stroke of genius—mine, of course, but I didn’t think he’d manage it.”

Viceroy.

The person who helped him with the Sorcerer.

“I can’t get him anything,” Haley said in case McFist decided to ask.

He glanced down, realized that he was still holding her, and let her go. She prodded at her arm and winced. She didn’t think he’d done this intentionally, but bruises were going to be the least of her worries for a while. She was lucky he hadn’t dislocated it.

“Sorry,” he said, and he sounded like he meant it. “I was just excited. Couldn’t find Rotwood, and you’re the only other one who knows the plan.”

This hadn’t been the plan, though. Had it? She didn’t really count this as false advertising, but—

“I’ve paid them all off if you’re worried,” he added, nodding at the security officers. “Money doesn’t just talk. Works great for this kind of thing, too.”

Haley nodded absently, scanning the crowd. “Rotwood’s over there,” she said, following a glint to his monocle and raising her hand to point him out to McFist. “He’s getting blustery. I guess a robotic dragon is an effective way to shut down his claims about a real one.”

“Nice work. Come on.”

Haley held her ground. “Can I borrow your phone? I need to call someone. I’ll give it back, I promise.”

She wasn’t sure if it was a sign of trust or the foolishness of the rich that McFist dug it out of his pocket and handed it to her without asking any questions—or without sticking around to listen in, as he started walking off to give her some privacy. She walked in the other direction, keeping an eye on the crowd and her surroundings while she waited for Fu to pick up.

When he did answer, he didn’t say hello or the usual Fu here. He didn’t say anything at all, and she realized it must be because he didn’t know the number. “It’s Haley,” she said, and then the rest of the story spilled out of her in a torrent. The bare bones of the plan Nino had sketched out before they’d split up. How she’d gone from distracting two people to making promises in return for their help. Gramps hadn’t been entirely happy to hear that (Fu’d put her on speakerphone once she’d started talking), since he still wasn’t thrilled Jake had taken Rotwood to the Magus Bazaar in the first place, but he agreed that taking Rotwood back was a fair price for his silence.

He was even less happy about what she’d promised McFist, him being even more of an outsider than Rotwood, but Fu assured her he had something that would do the trick in reserve—he had a stock in case things ever went south and they couldn’t wait three weeks for him to brew something—and they both agreed that it was better than what McFist had initially asked for.

In turn, they filled her in on what Sun had been up to. She hadn’t just been seeding her own rumours; she’d been trying to get people away from the scene, efforts that had been stymied repeatedly until an order came from up top that cleared everyone out more effectively than she could’ve hoped. The official reason given for leaving had absolutely nothing to do with the dragon sighting, which had worked in her favour, but it clearly pointed to someone at the top stalling earlier, and she’d sneaked back to try to find out what she could.

Fu’s poker contacts had come up dry in terms of a decent magical containment device, since they couldn’t afford to bet on rumours right now. He hadn’t had any luck with any of the strings he’d pulled through his contacts at the Magus Bazaar, either, but at least Marty reported the coast had been clear at the shop since Trixie and Spud had left. Whoever had gotten to Susan didn’t have friends in the city, or at least not friends that could be spared to find and hit up anywhere of magical value.

Gramps, while he hadn’t found Susan, had made a list of ways they could tell Jonathan.

Haley nearly dropped the phone upon hearing that. “Really?” she whispered. She’d been thinking they’d never be allowed to tell him everything, that she’d always have to keep secrets from him. To think that maybe she wouldn’t have to….

“I have not always approved of your mother’s choice,” Gramps said quietly, “but there is no mistaking Jonathan’s love for all of you. Jake’s position as the American Dragon makes his path increasingly dangerous, and today has shown me that yours is little better. If my little lotus flower is not safe from the perils of this life, then your father must have a chance to choose it for himself.”

“He will. I know he will. Jake told all of us about the time he fought the Strigoi and didn’t even realize it. And the Jersey Devil.” She couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “When do you think we can tell him?”

“Once we have Susan with us again.”

The words spread cold across her lungs. “Jake’s working on it,” she breathed. “He’ll do this, with his friends. Kara said he could.”

“I hate a wet blanket as much as the next person, but she said he’d have help, kid. Not that it would be enough.”

“It’ll be enough. He’ll make sure of it.” She finally caught sight of waving in the crowd, and she raised her own hand in recognition. “I have to go. Someone will call you soon. With good news.”

“Hope so. Good luck.”

“Yo, Haley,” Trixie said as she got closer. “Where’s Jake? I found that thermos of Spud’s he wanted, and he’s not answering his phone.”

“I’m not sure,” Haley admitted. She glanced over her shoulder to the dragon. “That was Spud, right?”

“Got it in one. He’d been working on something for the family restaurant and then decided to repurpose it.” Lowering her voice and leaning closer, she added, “Keep this on the down low, but we had to break into the school to steal some stuff to finish it up, so if anyone asks, that’s on Rotwood.”

“Rotwood might actually cover for you guys if you make a deal with him, you know.”

Trixie snorted. “Oh, I am not going there. If Jakey wants to take a trip to crazy town, he can go without me.”

“Rotwood’s helping me now.”

Trixie raised an eyebrow. “Girl, Spud and I caught him yelling about a dragon and a ninja when we got here. That is not helping in my book.”

“It’s, um, not as straightforward as it sounds.” Desperate to change the subject because she was feeling like a fool, Haley asked, “Where is Spud, anyway?”

Trixie pointed across the street to one of the buildings Haley had flown past earlier. “He needed the height for sight lines. Should be coming to join me now that the dragon’s grounded. We can take over Rotwood duty if you wanna get this to Jake?” She held out the thermos.

Haley took it. “Yeah, I’ll find him. Thanks.” She passed Trixie McFist’s cell phone and added, “This belongs to McFist. The rich white guy with the prosthetic arm. Loud. Probably accusing Rotwood of making everything up and claiming this is all a publicity stunt. You can’t miss him. I made a deal with him, too. Pass that back to him for me?”

Trixie whistled. “What exactly did we miss?”

Haley shrugged. “That’s what I want to know, too.”

7:59 PM

Susan used the damp scarf to wash away some of the blood (Randy had helpfully wet part of it for her with a well-placed Ninja Hydro Hand), but she didn’t dare try standing yet. The Ninja—Randy Cunningham, as he’d promptly introduced himself—had been kind enough to not only heal her wounds but to help her clean up, and she didn’t want to worry him by admitting that she wasn’t feeling quite as well as he seemed to think.

She was tired. Her head ached. Her memories were fuzzy, blending together like someone had given her a botched memory potion, and it was difficult to sort through them. She knew the important things, though. She knew she’d become a danger to everyone, flaunted the existence of the magical world, and been saved by her son and his new friends. She remembered the feeling of the wind beneath her wings, the heat of fire warming her from within, vividly enough that the memory warmed her now—or would, if the rest didn’t sicken her. She remembered anger and had a vague sense of struggling for control that left her with an impression of pride and foolishness—her own, not Jake’s.

“…shoob who totally owes me a new phone and magical air purifier. Since you’re his mom, can you nag him for me? I have a feeling that he’ll forget.”

Susan was saved from answering when the rooftop access door opened and Chat Noir emerged.

He was empty-handed. More to the point, he wasn’t smiling.

She didn’t need to remember the details to know he’d gone after the person who had done this to her. She’d suspected he wouldn’t be successful, not between what she recalled about Hawk Moth’s character and what she’d learned from Randy’s grumblings. From the way Randy’s shoulders suddenly slumped as he noticed Chat Noir’s expression, however, he’d held out hope. “Adrien, isn’t it?” she asked quietly as the boy reached them. “Thank you for your help.”

He froze. Apparently oblivious, Randy corrected her. “That’s Nino, actually. Well, we call him that. Didn’t I tell you? Anyway, the last guy is Danny.”

Nino. So he hadn’t wanted to tell them he was supposed to be one of the stars of the show? She could respect that, though she knew she wasn’t mistaken; he hardly looked different from his posters to her, though seeing through a subtly woven glamour was something she’d always been able to do. That was the reason she’d found most of her staff. “My apologies,” she said as he sat cross-legged on the roof, not looking at either of them.

“No,” he said. “No need to apologize.” He raised his head, meeting her eyes and then looking to Randy. “My name is Adrien. I was going to tell you all now anyway. I…. I’m sorry about not saying anything earlier.”

“What for?”

“For…for not trusting you. And—”

“No, I mean, you don’t need to apologize. There’s nothing to apologize for. And I dunno if I’d trust those guys either if they tried to drown me, so I don’t think they’re going to blame you.” Perhaps reading—or misreading—Adrien’s expression, Randy added, “I got the story earlier.”

Adrien opened his mouth, hesitated, and then said, “Thanks.” Turning to Susan, he asked, “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better, but I’ll be all right.”

“I know you must have a lot of questions,” Adrien said, “even if Randy’s already filled you in. The memory loss is normal, and you need to understand that everything you did was under Hawk Moth’s influence and that you weren’t thinking clearly. He knows how to twist people’s emotions to manipulate them into doing what he wants.”

“No. I’m still partially at fault. There were times when I could almost block him out of my head, and I was aware of what I was doing. If I had been thinking more clearly, I hope I would have known that using you as bait to draw him out of hiding carried too much risk, but I still made that decision.”

Adrien blinked. “What?”

“I thought there was a way to defeat him and keep what I’d gained, and I risked all of your lives because of that. Perhaps I wasn’t thinking clearly, but Jake was right; some part of me should have known better, and for that, I apologize. To all of you.” She raised her head to speak her last words louder as Jake and Danny came back. Jake transformed and ran to her immediately, wrapping her in a hug that made her wonder how she could have been so angry with him before when she’d known he’d acted out of worry and fear for her.

“If this was anyone’s fault, I vote we blame Hawk Moth,” Randy said.

“Randy’s got a point,” Danny said. “People make mistakes all the time, but he’s deliberately trying to hurt people. You guys need to stop blaming yourselves for everything.” Turning to Adrien and holding out his hands, which were cupped together, he said, “We’ve got the akuma. We just, uh, don’t have anywhere to put it.”

“You won’t need to put it anywhere,” Susan said, speaking before Adrien had a chance. She might not know how Adrien usually addressed the problem, but she knew the type. A corruption of magic was hardly anything new, and neither was pouring it into a vessel, even if that vessel wasn’t typically alive. “You should just need to purify it and release it.”

“That’s the problem,” Adrien said. “I don’t have that ability, or at least I don’t think I do. My partner in Paris looks after that.”

“Jake can do it.”

Jake pulled back from the hug to gape at her. “What?”

“If you stopped listening to music during your training sessions,” she chided gently, “or at least kept it low enough that you could still hear what you were being told, then you would know already. Dragon fire is purifying.”

“That’s why it changed colour!” Danny exclaimed. “I knew that had to mean something.” He opened his hands, releasing a white butterfly.

Adrien grinned, straightening as he shed the weight of worry, and raised his hand. “Bye, bye, little butterfly.”

(see more fics | next)  

[ladylynse]

Whirlwind (SQ fic): Jake should be used to ominous predictions by now. Randy should know better than to blindly follow McFist. Adrien should think twice before sneaking away. And Danny should’ve expected something like this when he got that phone call.

Chapter 10 [FF | AO3]

Previous | Timeline post

-|-

7:36 PM

“Um, guys?” Danny said as he looked up. He might not be a dragon expert by any stretch of the imagination, but he’d spent enough time with Dora—and Jake, really—to be able to pick out the sound of giant wingbeats above the general noise of the city.

“Not now,” Jake hissed at him, pointing with his free hand to his cell phone. “I’m still on with Trixie.”

“No, Danny’s right,” Nino said, and he must have followed Danny’s gaze. “We need to move. Now.”

There was a squeak from beside him that was probably Haley. Randy had already seen the dragon, after all. Both of them were looking up, too, and must have seen Susan fly past quickly enough that she was hardly more than a flash of deeper darkness against the cloudy sky. Nightfall worked in Jake’s favour, at least. It was hard to see much of anything up there from street level.

“Here’s the plan,” Nino said, and Danny turned to him. “Get in the air. Follow her. Stay invisible, and keep us posted via these things.” He tapped his Fenton Phone. “Randy and I will transform. We’ll be distractions, since I’m assuming we’ll still be easy targets in the dark.” Haley nodded, and he continued, “Once you’re invisible, you can get close to her and grab her necklace. Just take it and get out of there, as far as you can. Don’t break it until Jake hears back from his contact about something to contain the akuma.”

Danny hadn’t exactly tested how well being invisible at night helped combat a dragon’s magical sight, but he didn’t have to heart to say that right now. He still had a better chance than the other two. In theory, at least.

“What about me?” Haley asked.

“Dragon,” Danny reminded Nino. It was easy to forget. Jake might argue it, but Danny didn’t think Haley pulled off fierce very well.

“You’d be too much of a target.”

“Just because I’m younger than you, it doesn’t mean I’m useless! You said you wanted distractions.”

“Distractions, not bait.” Nino pulled a face. “Look, I’m sorry, but I don’t want you to get hurt, and—”

“You don’t even know what I can do!”

“Let her do what she does best,” Danny suggested. “The cute little girl schtick. Sic her on McFist and Rotwood. If Trixie and Spud don’t end up fetching something from the shop, they can help her when they get here.”

Nino frowned down at Haley. “Does Rotwood know who you are?”

She shrugged. “He’s met me. He mostly focuses on Jake so he might not remember me. I might just be like any other cute little girl he’s seen.” She flashed a smile.

“I’ll give her some weapons,” Randy said. “Just a sec.” No doubt still wary of cameras, he ducked behind the dumpster and reappeared a few seconds later as the Ninja, holding out some throwing stars and different coloured balls. “These should help you keep them distracted without giving that Rotwood guy evidence of dragons.” He glanced in the direction Susan had flown and then amended, “More evidence of dragons, anyway.”

“I don’t have my backpack,” Haley said, eyeing the weapons that were overflowing from Randy’s hands.

“Here, you can take my sweater,” Nino said. He shot a worried glance at the mouth of the alley and then pulled off his hoodie, making sure to keep his back to the street. “I won’t need it as Chat Noir, anyway.”

The hooded sweatshirt swam on Haley, but it did the trick, and Randy made sure her pockets were full. “Aren’t you worried about McFist realizing that’s all Ninja stuff?” Danny asked as Nino crouched behind the dumpster to change.

“He’s bound to already know the Ninja’s in town. Or at least that a Ninja’s in town. If I’m lucky, he doesn’t realize it’s me and not, like, the Ninja of New York City.”

Danny wasn’t entirely convinced, but it was Randy’s neck, not his. Besides, his enemies all knew his real identity, and they hadn’t all used it against him. Just…most of them. He would almost swear that Technus had hacked into the school’s mainframe last time he’d attacked and figured out when Danny had major exams scheduled, as he or Skulker would invariably show up, and—

“Here, take one of these, too,” Randy said, handing one last ball to Haley. “Just be extra careful with that one. It’s a Ninja Bee Ball.”

She looked at it warily. “McFist’s not allergic, is he?”

“I have no idea. But he’d have health insurance. He’ll be fine.”

She didn’t look convinced, so Danny added, “The paramedics working the venue tonight would still be on site. Too many people are hanging around for them to have packed up and gone home. I don’t think they’d be able to just leave mid shift anyway.”

“Why is she even worried about that?” Randy asked in a loud whisper as Haley tucked away the Ninja Bee Ball and trotted to the edge of the alley, looking both ways before darting off to join the thinning crowd and find Rotwood and his new Ninja-destroying friend. “I never worry about that, and it’s always worked out for me!”

Danny shrugged. “I personally have more of a thing against ghost mosquitoes and giant hornets. If she doesn’t use it, she doesn’t use it. The important thing is that she buys us time to deal with the dragon.”

“Do you think Jake’s mom’ll even pay attention to me? She didn’t before.”

“You weren’t with me before,” Nino said, and Danny jumped. Geez, that guy could sneak up on people. Danny was far more used to sneaking up on people and scaring them than having it happen to him—mostly because of his ghost sense, but also because Tucker—

Someone shouted something made incomprehensible by distance. They all glanced in the direction it had come from, despite not being able to see anything, and waited for the screaming to start.

It didn’t.

Had no one spotted the dragon coming back? Someone must have been looking. Had she flown high enough? Or simply cleverly enough, avoiding the majority of the sightlines? Did she have some power that most dragons didn’t, something they hadn’t seen her use yet? Danny wouldn’t put anything past someone who could use magic like that, not after his experiences with Desiree.

Nino was the first to look away and call their attention back to him. “She’s clever, even more so since she has all this existing knowledge of dragons. We need to be careful, and need to take her out fast.”

“So we just, what, come out swinging?” Randy asked. “Or, ooh, how about I use my scarf to get on her back and ride her? That would be so bruce, being a dragon rider.”

Nino stared at Randy for a few seconds. His ears twitched. (Danny was pretty sure he hadn’t just imagined that. Magic would surely make it possible for the cat ears to move on their own.) After a beat, Nino said, “Well, it would be a distraction, I guess. But she’ll try to protect her necklace at any cost. She might’ve been ignoring you earlier, but she won’t if you’re that close it. And you can’t fly.”

Randy laughed; Danny wasn’t even sure if he’d been paying attention to Chat Noir’s warnings. “This will be the cheese! The Nomicon’s bound to teach me how to do the Ninja Dragon Fist after that.”

“Wait,” Danny said, remembering the term from earlier. “The Nomicon. That’s that thing that gave you that advice, right?”

Danny didn’t need to see Randy’s face to know that he was frowning. “The super unhelpful advice? Yeah. I mean, c’mon. To cleanse the soul, one must first clear the mind. I’ve figured it out now. It’s telling me to focus. As if I’m not focusing already. I mean, dragon. Super bruce. Definitely focusing on that. And trying to stop the whole panic and chaos thing from happening.”

“It’s not telling you that you need to focus,” Nino said slowly. “It’s telling you that we can get through to her.”

“What?”

Danny wasn’t entirely sure what Nino meant, either.

“Hawk Moth’s magic is a corruption of what it should be,” Nino said, as if that explained anything. “To free her of it, we need to help her clear her head. Snap her out of it.”

“By breaking the necklace and releasing the butterfly?” Randy prompted. “Isn’t that how it works?”

“But we might not need to,” insisted Nino. “You already said she’s different.” He hesitated, then amended, “At least, even if we do have to break it and free the akuma, if we can get through to her, she might be strong enough not to fight us. That would make your job a lot easier, Phantom.”

Danny wasn’t going to bet that anything would be easy, but he’d take easier if it wouldn’t blow up in their faces. Which it almost certainly would. His luck was terrible, Jake’s was obviously no better, Randy’s couldn’t be great if this McFist guy had shown up, and Nino, well…. Bad luck was following him around right now, even if it didn’t usually back in Paris—although the fact that he was a masked hero no doubt meant it did, even though this Hawk Moth guy not having what he wanted yet was definitely a point in cat boy’s favour.

Maybe a whole bunch of awful luck mixed with effort, skill, and desperation would let them come out on top.

“Might as well try it. Worst that happens is that it doesn’t work,” Danny said. “You guys head out; I’ll fill in Jake and catch up.”

They both nodded before jumping into action, Nino extending his staff and immediately disappearing to the rooftops and Randy darting across the street before swinging up to climb a fire escape on the other side. Danny drifted over to Jake, who didn’t look particularly happy. He held up one finger and kept talking to Trixie.

He finished, flipped the phone closed with a groaned, “Aw, maaaan,” and Danny didn’t need to ask.

Instead, Danny said, “Nino thinks Randy’s Nomicon thing might be saying we can get through this without freeing the akuma. He’s not sure and was hoping you’d have something to deal with it, but I’m guessing not.”

“Yeah, not. It’s not like I have Pandora’s Box just lying around.”

“It’s in the Ghost Zone,” Danny reminded him.

“So you say.” Jake sighed. “G can’t think of anything we have that won’t eventually be affected by the corrupted magic.”

“How soon of an eventually? Could Nino get back to Paris with it?”

“It would be more likely to get out while he was still on the plane, and that wouldn’t be good for anyone. Fu’s got Marty on guard duty at the shop, at least, but he can only pull so many strings, and I don’t know if he can get something to us in time.” He hesitated. “Do you think we could use your Infi-Map? That’s how you got here, isn’t it?”

“It’s not exactly my map,” Danny said slowly. “I can’t really control it. It takes you where you need to be more often than where you want to go.”

“But wouldn’t you and Nino need to be in Paris to get Ladybug’s help?”

“Probably,” Danny allowed, “but we’re just as likely to wind up somewhere else. If it were that reliable, we could use it to find this Hawk Moth guy and fight him instead of your mom. Besides, Nino and I wouldn’t both need to be back in the NYC, and how’s Nino going to explain how he got home if he disappears here? Or if the map takes us somewhere else entirely? I can fly, but he would not be comfortable piggybacking that way for a long trip, even if I went intangible.”

Jake frowned. “Fine. What about one of your parent’s ghost-catching thermoses?”

“It contains ghostly magic. It might work. I dunno. It’s not like I’ve ever tried it. Does Spud still have the one he made?”

Jake nodded and flipped his phone back open, already typing as he said, “He should. I’ll text him. He can grab it, just in case.” He met Danny’s gaze for a second, adding, “I’m assuming we need to be fighting now, since the others are gone.”

“Nino might be right, you know. If Rotwood’s here and you show up, he’ll have a field day.”

“As if he’s not going to already?”

“Haley’s going to try to distract him and this McFist guy. Did you put Trixie and Spud on that, too?”

“She’s going to do a quick scout of the shop in case Fu or Gramps forgot anything, but Spud’s going to come and do that, yeah. Well, I guess he’ll head home for the thermos and then come do that. They’ll both come, anyway. Just not right away. And Haley said Sun’s going to start doing damage control for us instead of being another set of eyes. She figures that’ll be of more use. Which I guess it is, since Mom—” Jake’s voice broke “—I mean, the dragon came back. I know G was talking about spreading rumours of this being something it’s not, but honestly Sun will be better at that kind of thing than he is.”

Danny bit his lip. “You’re not going to sit this out, are you?”

“I’m the American Dragon. You know I can’t.” He waved a hand in the general direction of the ruined gala and added, “The fire was my fault, Mom getting akumatized was my fault, and the fact that this Hawk Moth guy has been active in Paris is basically our fault, too. Dragons are supposed to protect the magical world, and the French Dragon hasn’t been replaced since the Strigoi got him.”

“Too few in number, huh?”

Jake just grunted. He probably didn’t care about the politics of it all. He would just care that people were getting hurt. And that Hawk Moth was giving magic and magical creatures a bad name at the same time as convincing a lot of people they existed.

“You dragon up. I’ll stick with you and keep you invisible for as long as I can. When I get an opening, I’ll grab the necklace—and hopefully your appearance will be enough of a distraction if Randy and Nino aren’t.”

“Remember that dragons can touch ghosts,” Jake said, as if Danny didn’t remember all the inconvenient things about dealing with living dragons. Still, truth was, they needed to surprise Hawk Moth more than Susan. She might know a lot about dragons, but it was highly unlikely he did. “And even when you’re invisible, if I’m really looking, I can see you. Sorta. In the right light.”

“Yeah,” Danny said. “I remember.”

This wasn’t the first time he’d worked with Jake. If they pulled this off, it likely wouldn’t be the last. It was nice, knowing he’d have a magical ally he could call upon if things ever got a particular type of tricky, and…. And it would be nice if the others decided they felt that way, too, when this was all over, however it ended up.

7:41 PM

Haley wasn’t sure she looked as cute as she possibly could while wearing Nino’s oversized hoodie with its pockets stuffed to bursting, but she still had a smile that would melt anyone’s heart. The plaza was easily well lit enough for people to see it, too, which helped. Showing her smile instead of her fear meant most people didn’t give her a second glance.

The first task was getting through the crowd without being stopped, so she employed the usual tactic of attaching herself to the nearest adult whenever someone noticed her. It was easy enough to pretend to be part of someone else’s group for a few seconds, either as a daughter or a family friend. People didn’t question it; they didn’t expect someone her age to be alone, so they saw what they wanted to see, especially when she kept the worry off her face.

When she needed to keep moving, she’d look for someone going in the direction she wanted to go and follow them, just closely enough that it looked natural but not so closely that they’d get that sense of being followed unless they were really good. In her experience, most people weren’t, especially old white men like Rotwood and McFist—and there were enough of those around a place like this, often accompanied with women wearing dresses that could amount to her mom’s yearly salary.

Haley never specifically called out for any parents, of course—it wouldn’t do for heads to turn and no one’s face to light up with recognition or relief—but she did occasionally raise her hand to wave to someone who wasn’t there, banking on the fact that anyone who noticed would think she was waving at someone else. She never answered anyone else’s call for someone with coming, but she would make a show of perking up and moving in that direction if it were where she wanted to go.

It was the little things. Young children on their own in a place like this? Suspicious. Curious youngsters exploring rumours of a dragon sighting who accidentally got separated from their parents, but not straying far enough that they couldn’t be found again? Much more likely.

Nino’s hoodie might actually help her in that respect. It just screamed having a big brother, even though it still smelled new and the forgotten tail of a plastic tag sometimes poked the back of her neck.

Haley stopped where she thought Rotwood wouldn’t notice her. He and McFist had stopped themselves and were talking; she couldn’t make out their words without resorting to ear of the dragon, but that was risky if Rotwood recognized her despite having her hood up.

Her job was to distract them while the others found and fought—saved—her mom.

She could do that.

If her usual cuteness failed her—that is, if Rotwood recognized her—then she’d simply lead them away and keep them busy with everything Randy had given her.

Haley glanced skyward one last time, took a deep breath, and then walked over and tugged on McFist’s arm. “Excuse me, mister?”

He glanced down at her, annoyance melting into confusion. “I’m, ah, not whoever you’re looking for. I’m in the middle of a business meeting. Maybe you could talk to someone else.”

It was a politer version of ‘get lost, kid’ than she’d expected, but she stuck out her bottom lip and let it quiver. “I’m scared.”

He frowned at her. “Of the dragon? I don’t know if it’s coming back.”

They hadn’t noticed Susan’s return. Haley tried not to let her relief show on her face. “I hope it doesn’t,” she whimpered, edging closer to McFist as Rotwood dropped into a crouch.

“You saw this dragon?” he asked, and she saw him blink in startled recognition even as she turned her face away. “Wait. I have seen you before. You are Jake Long’s sister!”

She cowered behind McFist’s leg, burying her face in his jacket, but Rotwood didn’t buy it. He grabbed her arm and pulled, ignoring McFist’s surprised shout. “You see this girl?” Rotwood said to McFist, brandishing the arm he still held and shaking her enough that her hood slipped down. She guarded the full pockets with her free hand, trying not to lose any of the ammunition she’d need to use sooner rather than later at this rate. “She is a dragon!”

“Right,” McFist said, and Haley knew from Rotwood’s souring expression that she wasn’t the only one who’d caught McFist’s quick glances to the side.

“I am telling you the truth!” insisted Rotwood. “She is a dragon, just like her brother!”

Rotwood had nothing on him to force a change on her—he would have pulled it out already if he had—so Haley let out another whimper of fear. Whatever she might tell the others later, it wasn’t faked. She had to put on a brave face, especially around Jake or he’d have sent her home with loud complaints about regretting asking for her help, but she knew exactly how scary this was and exactly how much was at risk if the situation got much worse.

She didn’t know for sure that McFist had been in the crowd earlier, but she didn’t think Rotwood would still be talking to him if he hadn’t been, which meant McFist had seen her mother. He’d seen the dragon. If Rotwood couldn’t convince him that dragons were real after that—

“They hide,” Rotwood hissed, shaking her again. Haley looked around, but no one else was looking their way. If anyone saw anything, they were ignoring it. She swallowed back the bitterness in her throat. She hadn’t wanted to be seen, but it still hurt. How could people just ignore this?

“Hide.” McFist’s voice was flat. Good. Maybe he didn’t believe Rotwood after all. That would work in her favour. That would—

“They wear human skin. This is just how she looks as a human!”

Rotwood gave her another violent shake, and Haley felt one of the throwing balls Randy had given her slip out of the hoodie’s pocket and past her fingers.

It hit the ground, bounced once, and rolled to a stop between them.

Rotwood stopped shaking her, staring with McFist at the little blue ball that now rested on the cobbles at their feet.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then McFist said, “Wait, is that—?”

Ice erupted, frosting the street within a five foot radius, and Haley jerked free of Rotwood’s arm. She clamped one arm around her waist to contain the rest of her weapons as she bent down and shot a small flicker of fire towards her shoes, thawing it enough to wrench her feet free.

She only took two steps before another hand caught her arm, strong metal fingers digging into her through the thick fabric of the hoodie.

“Where, exactly,” McFist said, in a low growl that told her he’d be shouting if it wouldn’t have drawn more attention to them, as if the ice at their feet weren’t suspicious enough, “did you get a Ninja Cold Ball?”

7:41 PM

“That’s Chat Noir.” Hawk Moth’s voice rang in her head. “I need his ring.”

Susan could see the ring in question as easily as she could see Chat Noir himself. He was surefooted, running with ease where others would hesitate and wobble and balance precariously, and he used his staff as an extension of himself, vaulting through the air without needing to think about where he positioned it before he leapt. That spoke of talent, skill, and oh so much practice.

This was far from Chat Noir’s first fight, which meant Hawk Moth hadn’t yet managed to best him.

Hawk Moth’s search for power had brought him here, to find a way to conquer his enemies. It was laughable that his enemy—one of his enemies?—had found him. Even if it were mere coincidence, it hardly boded well for his venture.

“Focus,” Hawk Moth hissed. “If you cannot focus, perhaps I’ll need to find a way to draw out your son.”

“A trade, then.” It was not something she should be contemplating. “My son for this Chat Noir.”

“We have already struck our bargain, Dracona.” The name sent a shudder through her, and she lost a bit of height as she spasmed. “You’ve already agreed to fetch me Chat Noir’s ring, just as you agreed to tell me about this city’s heroes.”

Tell, but not sacrifice. Tell, but not necessarily turn against.

She could fulfill their bargain to the letter, but she didn’t need to fulfill the spirit of it if she could find a way around it. She could still save her son. She could still keep Haley from being involved. She could still—

She couldn’t save Chat Noir without endangering Jake and the others.

Not if Chat Noir crossed her path.

She’d only agreed to fetch his ring if he crossed her path.

She banked abruptly to her right, hearing a surprised, “What the juice?” from the Ninja as he pulled up short.

There was more shouting behind her, no doubt as Chat Noir joined the Ninja, but she didn’t look back.

“Dracona.”

She could feel his threat reverberating in her bones.

“You cannot break our agreement. Now turn around and fight them!”

The heat was rising in her belly. Each wingbeat was becoming more strained, weighted by her foolish promise. How could she have sacrificed anyone’s freedom for her own? And yet— How could she give this up, now that she’d tasted it? If Chat Noir had fought people like her before, he’d know exactly how to take all of this away from her.

She didn’t want to let him do that.

She didn’t want to give Hawk Moth any reason to try to use Jake against her. She was sure he still didn’t quite know, didn’t quite understand, but he knew and understood enough. He knew she considered Jake a hero, knew he’d fought against people much like Hawk Moth before, and he— He might even know that Jake was special—magical—even if he didn’t know why.

But Jake would be here soon enough whether or not Hawk Moth tried to deliberately draw him out.

She was circling back before she realized what she was doing. She dodged a fireball shot at her by the Ninja and sent one at him in return. She could deal with him easily enough if he became a problem, but ultimately, he wasn’t her concern. He wasn’t one of this town’s heroes. He wasn’t Chat Noir. She didn’t have to…. She could spare him.

Chat Noir darted in front of her, joining the Ninja. She could hear his frantic whispers, about Hawk Moth, about what he thought he knew about her. He was a fool, just as she’d been a fool.

She couldn’t protect Chat Noir. Certainly, she couldn’t protect him if she wanted to protect Jake. She’d have to get this ring. She could feel how much Hawk Moth wanted it. It was real, tangible, so much more useful than information he couldn’t easily apply. If she succeeded in this, he might be satisfied.

Chat Noir and the Ninja split up. She focused on her target, whose acrobatics were better than some of the Huntsclan initiates she’d met—about as good as Huntsgirl’s had been before she’d only become Rose and never one of the Huntsclan.

Behind her, the Ninja’s latest fireball rolled harmlessly off her scales. She adjusted her wings and weight and whipped her tail in his general direction, spinning into a roll with the additional momentum. Even though she didn’t hit anything, she heard a yelp behind her. She shot forward at an angle to Chat Noir, keeping him in her sights. He danced away from her, staying just past what he must think was the reach of her flame.

Pity he’d misjudged the distance.

The plume of fire she sent at him was still short of how far she could send it, if necessary, but it was long enough for what she wanted. Her goal was to cut him off and force him to his left; nothing more. He flipped away from the fire, and she started to follow his movements, but a hand-shaped wave closed around her flame and turned to steam, neatly providing a screen for Chat Noir’s escape.

Seems she hadn’t done enough to knock the Ninja off his game after all.

She hadn’t wanted to involve him, but she wouldn’t have a choice if he insisted on involving himself. She needed to finish this quickly, before Jake tried to get involved. She wasn’t sure she could protect him if he came.

Besides, it wasn’t as if she intended to hurt Chat Noir or the Ninja. She didn’t. She simply wanted Chat Noir’s ring. Now, if they got hurt trying to stop her, well, she could hardly pull all her punches and expect to finish this soon enough to avoid Jake’s interference.

A few heavy wingbeats brought her higher and forced the Ninja and Chat Noir to brace themselves. Chat Noir had planted his staff against the rooftop, and both he and the Ninja were hanging onto it, heads together. Indistinct murmuring reached her ears, but rather than focus to figure out what they were saying, she sent a blast of fire at them and drove them apart.

They spiralled in opposite directions. The Ninja reached into his pocket to pull out another one of those ice bombs of his. He lobbed it in her direction, and it caught the tip of her foot as she moved away. She shrieked as not ice but electricity erupted from it, racing through her body and causing her to drop. She hit the roof, something snapping beneath her weight, and the Ninja conjured another fist of water and threw it at her. Before she had time to blink all the water from her eyes, he’d tossed more of those Ninja Electro-Balls at her.

Chat Noir vaulted back into view before she’d found her feet, no doubt hoping the Ninja’s attack had incapacitated her. She waited and caught her breath, more than happy to pretend that all those Ninja Rings and Ninja Throwing Stars the Ninja was hurling her way hurt more than they did. He clearly had no idea how much her scales protected her, and she felt no need to correct his assumption right now.

Now that the electricity had dispersed, Chat Noir was coming at her in a zigzagging run. He split his staff into two as he went and then threw one half. She twisted her head out of the way—it had been aimed for her eye—and sent a stream of flame at his other hand, intending to heat the metal before he could throw it.

She saw the Ninja’s scarf wrap around his torso and jerk him backwards before her fire could reach him. The Ninja gave Chat Noir a handful of coloured balls and then sprinted behind her and out of sight, considering she wasn’t about to take her eyes off Chat Noir. She thrashed her tail, hoping to knock the Ninja off his feet even as Chat Noir took aim and began to throw.

To say that the first explosion stung was an understatement, and she gave up her pretence of helplessness as two more followed in quick succession. She was recovered enough now, and she didn’t like being made the fool.

Her first step forward proved to be a mistake, as her foot slipped out from under her in a pile of marbles. She sent her full force of flame at Chat Noir then, but the Ninja was back with his staff, and he’d rejoined the halves and was spinning it to dissipate her fire.

They were talking again.

She was getting so tired of them talking. Planning. Plotting. She just needed Chat Noir’s ring. She simply—

The Ninja’s suit burned red with magic, her split-second warning that another fireball was coming her way. She met it with her own, raising herself up with a roar and using the wind from her wingbeats to try to knock them off their feet again. This time, the Ninja toppled, unprepared, though Chat Noir crouched and managed to keep his feet.

“You must get his ring,” whispered Hawk Moth in her head, “but do not let him touch your necklace.”

They were fighting her from a distance.

For them, that made it a fairer fight.

But she didn’t have to fight fair.

She could get close to them without letting them get too close to her.

She sent another blast of fire towards them as cover before flying over the flames and diving toward them, talons outstretched.

(see more fics | next)

[ladylynse]

Part 9  [FF | AO3] of Whirlwind: Jake should be used to ominous predictions by now. Randy should know better than to blindly follow McFist. Adrien should think twice before sneaking away. And Danny should’ve expected something like this when he got that phone call. 

Previous | Timeline Post

-|-

7:29 PM

This Rotwood fellow wasn’t like Viceroy. McFist figured out that much from the walk back to the gala. Much of the crowd had dispersed now—he and Marci hadn’t been the only ones to seek out sustenance—and the emergency vehicles were gone, barring the EMTs who’d been stationed at the event anyway. Still, he could see one or two reporters hanging around, doing a few interviews with those left behind, and there were plenty of curiosity seekers hoping for a glimpse of the dragon display.

McFist was really getting the impression that Rotwood was one of those people, especially when he not-so-subtly brought up the dragon.

But that was fine.

It gave McFist the perfect opportunity to bring up this town’s Ninja. They’d apparently missed the first sighting—Marci’s window shopping had turned into very real purchases that she’d insisted on dropping off in their hotel room—and McFist had kept his eyes peeled ever since. This Ninja’s abilities and mannerisms were so like the one back in Norrisville, he wouldn’t be surprised to learn that this one was a descendent of the Norisu Nine.

Viceroy hadn’t turned anything up on that front, though, and McFist would rather he put more time towards building that dragon WND anyway.

“The dragon wheeled off in that direction,” McFist said with a vague gesture towards a pair of tall buildings a few blocks over, “and the area was thoroughly searched. Not by me, of course. Marci and I stayed around here to see if we could spot the Ninja coming back.”

Rotwood paused, and McFist stopped and turned to face him. “Ninja?”

“A Ninja fought off the dragon.”

“A Ninja,” Rotwood repeated. “Not another dragon?”

Another dragon would’ve been something to see, but McFist was more interested in the fact that Rotwood sounded disappointed that it hadn’t been another dragon. “You think there’s another dragon?” he asked instead.

Rotwood sniffed. “Dragons are real. What you saw here tonight— It was a real dragon. It was not some show.”

McFist let out a humming noise and hoped Rotwood would take it either noncommittally or as agreement. Dragons were real, eh? That made things much easier for him. Viceroy’s Robo-Dragon—

“They are,” Rotwood hissed to him. Clearly, he’d taken the sound to mean that McFist was humouring him. “The people here, they are blind to the magical world! They do not know how to look for it! They do not even believe magic is real! They think it is all merely parlour tricks!”

The man was passionate. McFist could work with this. “I know magic is real,” he said. “I know a sorcerer.”

Rotwood narrowed his eyes. “You are just humouring me.”

McFist shook his head. “Look up the stories about Norrisville. I know the real reason behind all those strange happenings—and how much of a menace the supposed town hero is. But keep that just between us, if you don’t mind.” Viceroy might not approve, but McFist didn’t see any reason not to be honest right now. There wasn’t anyone Rotwood could tell the truth to who would both believe him and be capable of ruining McFist’s efforts to capture the Norrisville Ninja.

Rotwood cocked his head and considered McFist for a moment. “This supposed town hero. You wish to show the rest of the town what they truly are?”

McFist smiled. This was going better than he’d hoped. “If I can just capture him, I’ll be able to let everyone know the truth.”

“I have a similar goal,” Rotwood said slowly. “The people here, they are not as open-minded as you. They do not believe me when I tell them about all the magical creatures.” He hesitated, and when McFist let the silence stretch, Rotwood continued, “I know all manner of tricks when it comes to dealing with magical creatures. I could perhaps assist you with your problem if you help me with mine.”

“The hero in Norrisville is a Ninja, not necessarily a magical creature,” McFist said, though in truth he still wasn’t completely sure what the Ninja was. Viceroy was convinced he was a high school student, but that still didn’t explain the legend of the Ninja throughout the history of Norrisville, and the one time he’d tried to ask the Sorcerer for details, it had gone poorly. To put it mildly.

McFist hadn’t dared ask again.

“I have books. I can help with magic. I can craft traps. If you wish to capture this Ninja of Norrisville, I can help you.”

“I want to capture that Ninja,” McFist agreed, “and I want to know more about the one that came here. Tell you what, Hans—can I call you Hans?—you help me with my little Ninja problem, and I’ll help fund your research into getting solid proof that there are magical creatures in this city, too.”

Rotwood grinned as if he hadn’t been the one to follow exactly where McFist had wanted to lead him. As if the reverse were true instead. Perhaps it was, if they’d both had the same idea. Either way, Rotwood stuck out his hand. “You have a deal.”

-|-

7:30 PM

Every step was a fight, an exhaustive battle she was slowly losing. Susan stumbled to a sidewalk bench and sat down, hunching over and trying to catch her breath. She couldn’t remember when she’d grasped her necklace again, but it was cutting into her hand and she couldn’t force her fingers to release it.

She could feel magic raging within her, wanting release. It hummed in her blood, pushing against its confines, trying to sweep over her in a rush of a dragon’s fire and change skin to scales. It was a form she’d never thought she’d hold. It was…it was a form she still shouldn’t hold. It was supposed to be locked away, bound too tightly to ever be released. She’d forced the lock open, and now it wouldn’t stay closed, mixing with the other magic and roiling—

She had traded too much for its freedom, and she hadn’t paid the full price yet.

Susan blinked. The world sharpened, becoming more bright and vivid and detailed. Eyes of the Dragon. She jolted to her feet, looking for somewhere to hide. Fighting off the transformation was so tiring. Too tiring. She was beginning to give ground even when she didn’t want to, and whatever changed next might not be so innocuous.

She needed help, but she had to stay as far away from the person who should help her as possible.

She couldn’t involve the American Dragon.

She couldn’t involve any of her family.

People might not call them superheroes, not when magic and responsibility sang in harmony in their blood in a melody interwoven with a counterpoint of inevitability and expectations, but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to bite her tongue if Hawk Moth asked her about them. And if she went to them or they came to her, he would ask. She knew he would. She could feel his curiosity even now, far away from him as she must surely be.

As for the other condition of their bargain, she wasn’t yet sure who she’d doomed. She didn’t know who Chat Noir was, didn’t know anything about his ring, but she knew that knowledge would come. Right now, it was just out of her reach. If she stretched for it, she’d give in, and she couldn’t risk that. It would condemn too many people, and she doubted this Chat Noir deserved it any more than her son did.

Why had she agreed?

Why had she let the sudden consuming need to realize her childhood dream overshadow the acceptance she’d acquired long ago?

It would be so much harder to lose it now that she knew exactly what she’d have to give up. Having had a taste of what could have been—should have been—reality would become much more bitter. No amount of magical knowledge or tiny tricks of borrowed magic would satisfy her now. She might not even be able to smile when one of her elven staff cast a quiet spell to keep the flies from the food when their venue was outdoors, to keep the drinks cool while the air was warm, to—

Susan sobbed.

She…she didn’t want to give it up.

Why couldn’t she decide to just give it up when it would mean saving her family? Saving her friends?

She slipped into the tight space between buildings, trying not to gag as her overly-sensitive noise picked up the smell of rot, fetid water, dried blood—

No. She mustn’t think about all that. Her stomach was already rolling at the thought, and she couldn’t be sure there wouldn’t be fire within her, ready to burn, ready to cleanse.

She tried to scrape her hand over the rough brick of the wall beside her. A minor abrasion, that’s all she wanted, something to bring her back to reality without harming her later—

Claws dug into crumbling mortar instead, scales neatly protecting her from even minimal harm, and she tucked her left hand to her body. Her right was still soft, human flesh, its grasping fingers wrapped tightly around her necklace that pulsed with power even now.

She wasn’t winning.

Running away wouldn’t work.

She needed to confront what was inside of her. What had been released. She wasn’t in nearly as much control as she pretended, and that became clearer the longer she stayed away. She had to find the one who had done this to her and find out how he had done it to her.

It was easier to ignore him when the magic hadn’t consumed her, when she wasn’t transformed, but she was already slipping, and—

And she’d never find him if she didn’t go back.

If she didn’t risk running into her son.

If she didn’t risk her family’s secret.

Another wave of magic coursed through her, and she tentatively flexed her wings, relishing how good it felt to stretch them. How proper. How right.

She couldn’t fight this forever.

Susan took a slow, deep breath, held it for a moment, and then breathed out fire as she allowed herself to transform again.

-|-

7:31 PM

Danny had had no luck in his search and had joined them on the ground, collecting his cell phone from Randy and passing Haley the spare Fenton Phone. Jake grimaced, but he wouldn’t be able to get a new phone for Randy till this was over. For now, the Fenton Phones were going to have to be their main source of communication between each other.

Fu and Gramps kept checking in—mostly Fu, who was still better with all the technology than G—but they weren’t coming up with anything, either. Haley, for all that she’d insisted she wanted to help, was not. Jake was beginning to wonder why he’d ever asked for her to come in the first place. Or why he’d agreed to let her work directly with him instead of staying with Gramps.

The fact that Trixie and Spud had phoned him to say Rotwood had gotten away from them hadn’t improved Jake’s mood. It was Rotwood. And Trixie and Spud were good, which meant that it had been that much more unlikely that Rotwood would have succeeded in giving them the slip, and Jake had been counting on the fact that he wouldn’t. Sure, Trixie and Spud could’ve had an off night, and Jake really couldn’t blame them, especially considering how often they helped him out, but did it have to be tonight? Now? Did it have to be this crisis that was hanging over his head when Rotwood finally got the better of them? Couldn’t it have just been trolls in the sewers or something?

His mood might have improved if Chat Noir—Nino, as he’d told them to call him—had been able to give them a description of Hawk Moth, but apparently that guy also ran around in a mask.

“We don’t usually fight him in person,” cat boy had explained. “It’s mostly just the people he akumatizes—like your mother—and the monsters they create. He fights smart. He won’t face us directly unless he’s confident. Even before realizing I was here, he’d have holed up somewhere. He wouldn’t expose himself when he doesn’t know what he’s up against.”

“So that’s why she was just playing with me earlier?” Randy asked, giving a sidelong look at Haley. “You think this was his strategy, not hers?”

His response was a helpless shrug. “Hawk Moth couldn’t have known that I would be here. Like I said before, he must be looking for something or he wouldn’t be doing any of this.”

“Great,” Jake said flatly. “So chances are he’s actually after something I’m supposed to guard.” He glanced at Danny. “Which means everything I told you was right, except that Nino here isn’t the one behind it. Or working with the evil guy.” He grimaced, then added, “Sorry about all that.”

“I get it.” The response wasn’t forgiveness, not yet. Not that Jake actually expected that. “People don’t always realize that destruction can be a good thing.” Then, “If you’re right about Hawk Moth looking for something that you have, you can’t fight her.”

“What?” That was Haley. “But she’s our mom! We have to save her!”

“It’s not just about saving her. You also need to protect whatever you’re supposed to be protecting. The rest of us can save her for you.”

“Not that you don’t raise a good point,” Danny said slowly, “but, uh, Susan would already know about all of that stuff. They’re not going to lose anything by fighting her that they haven’t already lost. And, I mean, if it’s that bad, then she could be back at the shop right now stealing whatever Hawk Moth wants.”

“He doesn’t mind control people. I mean, he can give people the power to do that to other people, but the people who are akumatized aren’t under his total control. He can’t use their knowledge against them and make them do things they don’t want to do. He can just…. He can twist their thinking, make them see justice or vengeance in their wrong actions, but he doesn’t take away their free will. That’s why he can hurt them if they try to stray from their deal. He’ll find a way to force their hand or he’ll take away their power.”

“So he can’t just compel them to do something?” Jake asked. That was better. That was a lot better, actually. His mom wouldn’t—

“No, but he could convince them to do something they’d never ordinarily do. If he got me, I’d be willing to give up my Miraculous then and there. Your sister would use you as bait without blinking an eye. Your friend would be willing to kill you to harvest your energy in order to go back in time. Your—”

Or not.

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Jake held up his hands. “I just….” He let out another groan as he dropped his hands. “So we can’t find Hawk Moth, we can’t find Mom, and she might sneak back and give him everything he wants and expose what we are in the process.”

“That might already have happened.”

Jake jumped and spun, looking for the voice he didn’t recognize. Nino smiled weakly and pointed at his shoulder—or, more specifically, at the tiny cat-like creature poking its head out from his hood by his chin. “Nooroo would know that something was different, and if Hawk Moth knew enough to ask, Nooroo would answer.”

“That’s Plagg,” Danny said in a stage whisper, and Jake just tried to take a slow breath to calm his racing heart. Hadn’t he had enough surprises for one day? He wasn’t even sure what it was. Some kind of fey?

Whatever. That didn’t matter right now, as long as Jake was careful not to offend Plagg. “So you’re telling me that you think Hawk Moth already knows that we’re dragons.”

“He might not know you’re dragons, but he would know you’re magical. If he asked. Which he probably did. If he didn’t know how to control Nooroo, we’d have rescued him already.”

This day was not getting better.

Jake pulled out his phone and started texting Fu. “I think Marty lost the last poker match to Fu, so he can guard the shop. I know G’ll already have people watching it—they never leave it unattended—but we should have someone in the back if this is as big a risk as you say.”

Haley poked him in the side. He stopped texting long enough to glare at her before he took in the look on her face, and he let his expression soften. “What?”

“If you think Mom might betray us, even if she doesn’t mean to, I should get Sun to help, too. She must have seen the news. She’ll know something’s going on anyway.”

“Right. I forgot about her. Thanks.” Haley had a cell phone, but it was only for emergencies, so it was just the pay-as-you-go sort. He finished sending the message to Fu and then handed her his phone. “Use mine to call her.”

Haley nodded her thanks and walked a short distance away from the buzz of their conversation to make her call. Jake turned back to the others. “We need a plan.”

“When do you ever plan anything?” Danny asked. “I mean, even when you do, when it does it work?”

“Not as often as I’d like,” Jake acknowledged, which was a code for practically never, but he didn’t want to tell that to Randy and Nino, in case they had better luck than he ever did. “But, c’mon, you’ve gotta admit we can’t go into this blind.”

“We aren’t going into it blind,” Randy said. “Nino’s told us a lot, and we already know we need the necklace. We just need to find your mom first.”

“It’s not just a matter of needing her necklace,” Nino interjected. “It’s getting it, too. Jake’s right. We need a plan. She’s smart, and she’ll do everything she can to protect it. And…and we need to catch the akuma before it multiplies.”

“Before it what now?”

“If we don’t catch it, if I can’t get it back to Ladybug to purify it, then it’ll multiply and infect other people. And then you’ll have a city full of people who can turn into dragons, all searching for whatever you’re trying to protect.”

Jake stared at him. “You’re kidding. Please tell me you’re kidding.”

Nino shook his head. “When we defeated the Critic,” he said, gesturing to Randy, “and the akuma was released, I chased after it to try to catch it. That’s when you found me.”

“I hate where this is going,” Jake muttered. “You didn’t catch it. I know you didn’t catch it. So you’re telling me that one would’ve multiplied, too? We’re gonna wind up with a whole bunch of people turning into this critic?”

“No,” Nino said, and some of Jake’s panic evaporated. Some. Not enough. “Hawk Moth only ever sends out one akuma at a time. He would have recalled that one before he akumatized your mother.”

Small mercies.

“How are you going to get the akuma back to Paris without it getting away?” Danny asked, and Jake almost wished he hadn’t. Why did he have to think about that?

“I don’t know,” Nino admitted, “but the only other way to make sure it doesn’t multiply is to purify it, and I can’t. Ladybug, my partner— She’s the one with that power, not me.”

Randy glanced at Jake. “If you have a shop full of magic stuff, would you have something he could use? To contain it or purify it or something?”

“Maybe? I don’t even know. I’ll have to talk to Gramps when Haley’s done. I haven’t exactly memorized our inventory. We don’t sell the magic stuff. It’s an electronics shop.”

“Oooh. So that’s why you didn’t feel bad about trashing my phone.”

“I’ll replace it,” Jake insisted. “I swear. I just…. After. Once we’ve dealt with this and I have time to think.”

“You’d have to be confident that whatever you gave me to use would work,” Nino said. “The akuma isn’t going to be slow. I’ll probably only have the one chance to catch it.”

Jake groaned. “Can’t you just destroy it? You have the power of destruction, don’t you?”

“Hitting it with Cataclysm would only disperse the corrupted magic,” Plagg said. “It won’t get rid of it.”

Danny looked at Randy. “You said you deal with something similar, right?”

“Stanking,” Randy said, “but the stank just returns to the Sorcerer when I release it. I don’t have to do anything to it. I don’t think I could even if I wanted to. Unless you have some kind of magical air purifier?”

He’d directed this last question to Jake, and Jake rolled his eyes. “What do you think?”

“I think it would be super bruce if you did and I’d want to borrow it.” He paused. “Can I borrow it?”

“I don’t think that exists.”

“But you could ask around, right? Since you broke my phone ‘n’ all. That was a shoob move. You kinda owe me.”

“Fine, okay, I will, later. Right now, we need to—” Jake broke off when he saw Randy stiffen. “What?”

“McFist is back,” Randy said, ducking behind Nino. “He’s gonna wonder if he sees me here.”

“Friend of yours?” Danny asked.

“Try enemy set on destroying me.”

“And he knows you personally? As Randy?”

“Well, he probably wouldn’t remember my name, but you never know. And he’ll know I’m from Norrisville even if he doesn’t know who I am. I’m wearing too much of his stuff.”

“You— what?” spluttered Danny. “Why?”

“Is he a fashion designer?” Nino asked, as if that were remotely relevant. “I’ve never heard of him.”

Like any of them could name a whole bunch of fashion designers. Jake couldn’t even remember who was supposed to be putting on this show, and he’d wound up trashing the place. Then again, maybe Nino had a point. This McFist might’ve come for the show, to check out the competition. Still, point or not, it wasn’t exactly relevant to their present situation.

“It’s not really fashion,” Randy said. “And it’s comfortable. But it’s more like… Merchandise, I guess. McMerch, to be specific. But he sells a lot of candy and stuff, too. McSquiddles are the cheese.”

“Cheese?” Plagg perked up, and Nino shushed him.

“You buy stuff from your enemy?” Danny asked incredulously. “Even though he’s trying to destroy you? Why the heck would you support him like that?”

“Because it’s comfy. And super bruce. He makes a lot of good stuff.”

“You’re crazy,” Jake said, and Danny nodded his emphatic agreement.

Randy shrugged. “Point is, he’ll wonder if he sees me. Especially if he saw me earlier as the Ninja.”

Jake sighed and turned to get a good look at this McFist, thinking he was probably the same man he’d overheard on the phone earlier. And then he blinked. “Aw, man.”

“What?” Danny asked, and then he looked, too. “Oh, crud.”

“Things are not going to stop getting worse for us,” Jake muttered, motioning for them all to join Haley just inside the mouth of the alley. To Nino and Randy, he said, “McFist is talking to Rotwood. Someone who wants to expose me as a dragon to the nonmagical world. Assuming anyone still doesn’t believe in dragons after Mom showed up. Because that’s another thing we have to figure out, by the way. How to make this look like the whole thing was a hoax. I can’t have it getting out that magic exists—really exists—to the general public. The Dragon Council would have my hide.”

“Hawk Moth attacks Paris all the time now,” Nino offered. “That will probably convince them that this dragon isn’t anything more than that.”

“Not with Rotwood around.”

“It might be a start, though,” Danny pointed out. “We’ll figure out the rest of that as we go. I’m good at thinking on my feet. Besides, at the rate we’re going, we’re not gonna have a fully formed plan anyway.”

Jake didn’t argue, even though he wanted to, because he knew Danny was right.

Improvising it was, then.

-|-

7:32 PM

Gabriel felt the moment Nooroo’s magic flared to life and took hold of Dracona again. Finally. Despite his best efforts, he hadn’t been sure he’d ever get through to her. Whatever sort of innate magic she had, it had fought against Nooroo’s. He still wasn’t sure if he’d won the fight or if she’d thrown it, but she was back, and he needed to speak with her.

He glanced across the room to Nathalie, catching her eye before giving a discreet nod. The others in the meeting room didn’t notice, too busy arguing about one thing or another. He’d barely been in this meeting for ten minutes, finally acquiescing to put in an appearance and giving his excuses for tardiness, and he’d regretted coming the moment he’d stepped into the room. He didn’t have time to deal with these children, squabbling over fault and insurance and deadlines and payments and alternate venues and vendors. Nathalie could handle this on his behalf; she’d already given him as much on Susan Long as he suspected she’d be able to find on such short notice, and he didn’t mind pulling her off of that to deal with this fully, at least now that Dracona was back.

Nathalie approached him and stood discretely at his side. “Sir,” she said, pitching her voice just loudly enough to be overheard by his neighbours despite the argument taking place, “I’m afraid your son is in urgent need of your attention.”

The nearest branches of the argument broke off, though those sitting farther away continued to talk over each other, oblivious.

“It appears he was inside when the fire began,” Nathalie added.

“Smoke inhalation?” the man seated on Gabriel’s right guessed, even as the one on his left snorted.

“Took them a damned long time to realize who he was and track you down. Go. Your son can’t wait for this mess to be over.”

“Thank you for your understanding,” Gabriel said smoothly as he rose to his feet. His glance at Nathalie’s tablet was perfunctory. The others would believe it provided him with all the information he needed, such as a brief idea of what had happened and where his son was, leaving him to find out the details when he arrived by Adrien’s side, and it would forestall any more questions they might try to throw at him or Nathalie right now. “Please make my apologies to the others. Nathalie will be my proxy; she’s more than qualified when it comes to handling company matters, and I trust her decisions completely.”

The truth was, Gabriel had no idea where Adrien was, but the boy should be in his room. It wasn’t Gabriel’s job to keep track of him; that fell to his security guard and, of course, Nathalie, though he knew she’d been juggling other jobs in the meantime. Whatever the case, Adrien was surely safe or he would have been alerted.

Assured in that knowledge, Gabriel put Adrien out of his mind and hastened back to his private suite without even pausing to knock on Adrien’s door.

Nooroo slipped out of his interior breast pocket the moment he’d locked the door behind him. “Master, we shouldn’t—”

He didn’t have time to listen to Nooroo’s worries. “Dark wings rise, Nooroo.”

The magic rushed back over him, consciousness of Dracona’s surroundings settling into the familiar place where it should be. She was flying high, winging above the skyscrapers. For all that she took too many slow, gliding turns, she was coming back, just as he’d hoped she would. “Dracona,” he said, “are you ready to uphold your end of our bargain?”

“I don’t want this anymore.”

There was desperation in her voice. She perhaps attempted to veil it, but if so, she did a poor job. She wasn’t only desperate to break this bargain; she was still desperate to keep it. Fighting with herself. No doubt, whatever innate magic she had that so unnerved Nooroo wasn’t strong enough to shut him out forever. Not when she still so longed for what she’d been given.

He could recall the akuma now, of course. Whatever Nooroo thought, it was that simple. He could simply let her transform back and fall from the sky. There was no Ladybug to set things right, and he’d find her family when they learned of what happened.

He didn’t like things to be so messy, though.

“You agreed,” he said mildly. “Surely you don’t want to break our agreement. Think of your son.”

He felt the shock jolt through her, far more effective than the pain he’d tried to send her earlier, back before she’d shut him out.

“What do you know of my son?”

The words were hissed, defensive. She hadn’t asked what he meant. She hadn’t wondered why he’d make such a threat. But what she had asked, now, that was curious. It implied that there was indeed something to know of her son. Perhaps he should not be surprised. Blood magic was blood magic, after all.

“He is a curiosity,” Gabriel hedged, and then he made a gamble. “Why don’t you tell me about him?”

Silence. Silence, but not a broken connection. He hadn’t pushed her to withdraw from him entirely again. Mulish though she was, if his growing suspicion was right, she’d tell him. She’d have to tell him or she’d lose everything. Whatever she tried to tell herself, whatever she’d tried to tell him, she wasn’t willing to give up the freedom she felt.

And it was so terribly easy for him to amplify that desire within her, the fear of losing what he’d gifted.

“He is still learning,” came her quiet answer, “but he has already bested those more fearsome than you.”

Doubt danced in her voice, and Gabriel smiled.

(see more fics | next)

[ladylynse]

Randy groaned.

Everything hurt. An aching hurt, mostly, except for the pounding in his head that almost had him wincing with each heartbeat. He didn’t really want to move, despite what had to be a rock sticking into his stomach. Or maybe it was one of his Ninja Tripping Balls. He hadn’t tripped over them and knocked himself out again, had he? That would be embarrassing. Howard hadn’t let him forget the last time yet.

Randy rolled over and opened his eyes. He shut them again almost immediately and dragged a hand up to shade them before squinting up at clear blue sky.

Okay.

That was weird.

Not the blue sky bit. That was normal. What was weird was that his hand was bare, which meant he wasn’t currently wearing his Ninja Suit. Which he had been, last he could remember.

With considerable effort, Randy pushed himself upright and looked around.

There was…nothing. Nothing recognizable, anyway. No buildings or signs, not even the familiar sight of Mt. Chuck in the distance. He was just in a bare field, all flat and treeless and empty, far as he could see. He was in the middle of nowhere. Instead of the middle of Norrisville, where he should be.

Maybe this wasn’t real. Maybe this was the Nomicon. That could explain why he wasn’t wearing his Ninja Suit. And how he’d wound up face first in the dirt.

Except the soil here was warmed by the sun. It was soft, recently worked, but dry enough that moving sent clouds of dust into the air (and into his eyes and his mouth, causing him to cough and blink and scrub at his face, which didn’t improve the situation). Tiny clods of greying dirt slipped and rolled beneath his fingers when he sunk them into the soil. Grit worked its way under his fingernails and dust covered his clothes, and he felt sweat prickling on his forehead even as he shrugged off his McHoodie. Wherever he was, everything too real to be any simulation of the Nomicon.

And, Randy noticed, the rock he’d been lying on wasn’t a rock. Or a Ninja Tripping Ball.

Instead, it was a little glass container about the size of a pill bottle. He would’ve missed it but for the glint of sun off the glass, half-buried in the soil as it was. He picked it up and brushed it off, but it wasn’t labelled, so he set to working off the cork to get to the paper he could see coiled inside. If it were plastic, it could be the kind of thing his mom kept change in for when she had to go through the coin car wash, but the paper inside….

Randy dumped it into his hand and unrolled it. The message was printed in handwriting messier than his (a rare feat), but it was in English and still easy enough to read. Of course, it was very simple and utterly unhelpful when it came to explaining his current situation: We’re working on it.

“What the cheese,” Randy asked, even though he wasn’t sure anything—let alone anyone—was around to hear him, “is that supposed to mean?”

(see more fics)

[ladylynse]

Whirlwind: Jake should be used to ominous predictions by now. Randy should know better than to blindly follow McFist. Adrien should think twice before sneaking away. And Danny should’ve expected something like this when he got that phone call. (Secret Quartet crossover) 

Part 6 [FF | AO3] - for the :D Anon, who very kindly donated to my ko-fi. 

(Part 5 | Timeline post)

-|-

6:46 PM

“My name’s Phantom,” Danny said once they were inside. The fire and subsequent soaking had not been kind to any electronics in this place, so he didn’t mind talking plainly. No one was going to follow them inside without them noticing, especially not with the dragon basically guarding the entrance, and it wasn’t like any cameras were going to be functioning right now. “I’m friends with the Am Drag.” He’d avoided flying or any other obvious uses of his powers while they were out in the open. No need to parade his secret (or rather, the fact that ghosts are real) around to the public, after all; this was going to be enough of a mess for Jake to deal with without that.

The dragon hadn’t exactly been inconspicuous.

“Why the cheese are we in here instead of fighting out there?” the Ninja asked, flinging an arm behind him. “The Am Drag might be a friendly dragon, but that one isn’t!”

Danny sighed. “Look, um, there’s something you need to know about dragons. Hopefully I’m not violating some super secret code thing by telling you this, but they can take a human form. I mean, they have a human form, not just a dragon form. Which is probably the only reason they still exist and aren’t, y’know, just a myth.”

Danny couldn’t see much more than the Ninja’s eyes, but they didn’t look impressed. “Okay, so the lady I saw turn into a dragon is a dragon, and she just snapped?”

“Not…exactly.”

The Ninja rolled his eyes. “So what, exactly? Do you even know?”

“I think so.”

“That’s encouraging.”

Danny frowned at the Ninja’s sarcastic tone. “This is a big mess, okay? The magical world is supposed to be kept secret. So that dragon? Not easy to explain away!”

“Magic’s not secret,” the Ninja said incredulously. “It’s just…. It’s just magic. I mean, the people in my town don’t know there’s a sorcerer trapped beneath it, but they aren’t total shoobs. They know it’s not normal for people to regularly turn into monsters. But they just kind of…accept it, you know? Because I’m around to protect them. Or at least I’m supposed to be. But it’s not like they think it’s all some kind of new technology. People have been getting stanked in Norrisville for centuries.”

Danny blinked. He wondered if Jake knew any of that. He still wasn’t really clear on how the whole ‘American Dragon’ thing worked, and he had enough trouble keeping Amity Park safe, let alone feeling responsible for an entire country. Maybe there were different magical creatures who monitored smaller regions—individual states if not counties—who were then expected to report back to Jake when something was amiss. That would make more sense. Gramps was probably fielding all that stuff for him right now, while he was still in school….

“Hello, Earth to Phantom.” The Ninja was waving a hand in front of his face. “Is it normal for you to space out like that?”

“Shut up,” Danny scowled. “I was just thinking.”

“About how to get us out of this honkin’ mess?”

“About how it started,” Danny said, though that wasn’t strictly true; he’d been thinking about that earlier, though, so he figured it still counted. “The woman you saw. I think…. If it’s who I think it is, her name is Susan. She’s nice, normally—”

“When she’s not flaming people?”

“When she’s not corrupted. Did you see any butterflies?”

“That’s what does it?” The Ninja didn’t wait for Danny’s nod of confirmation. “Yeah. It’s, um, not the first one I’ve seen today, either. The first lady didn’t go all dragon-y. More…weird fashion sense, with this pen that could create invisible walls and trap you while she criticized you. That was her thing. She was a critic. The Critic. Chat Noir helped me defeat her. You know him? He distracted her while I got her pen.”

“I…know of him,” Danny hedged.

“He’s a good guy,” the Ninja said, confirming what Danny had suspected since his fight. “These corrupted people? They’re after him in particular. And, like, other stuff, but definitely something he has.”

“His ring. A Miraculous.”

“So you know this already?”

“I don’t think I have it all straight.” Danny bit his lip. He and Jake couldn’t do this alone, and he might’ve accidentally burned his bridge with Chat Noir. He might not be willing to help them. The Ninja, on the other hand, probably still would. At least, he hadn’t given Danny any reason to think he wouldn’t. “I know…. I know we have to beware of the butterflies.”

The Ninja nodded. “Sounds like. They’re probably connected to this Hawk Moth guy. Or girl. I dunno. I just heard the name. Susan or whoever you said she was was talking to them.”

“You saw him? Them?”

The Ninja shook his head. “No, I just heard half a phone conversation, except without phones being involved. Thing is, this guy’s MO is super familiar to me. I think they might’ve teamed up with someone I know. The Sorceress.”

Danny could not recall anything in the vague prophecies Jake had repeated to him that might allude to a sorceress. “Are you sure?”

“Well, not exactly, but from what I’ve seen? Definitely a possibility. Just because I trapped her in the Land of Shadows, doesn’t mean she didn’t find another way out. Again. And she might be trying to gather her power before attacking Norrisville.”

“She’s the one you were worried about, then.” He figured he could grill the Ninja on this whole ‘Land of Shadows’ thing later—when the Sorceress turned up, if she did, or when this mess was over, if she wasn’t involved.

The Ninja shrugged. “Yeah. Worrying about her is practically a requirement. And if she’s not involved, good, but she might be the reason this Hawk Moth person can do whatever it is with the butterflies. It’s basically stanking people.”

Danny didn’t need to know what stanking was to guess what it meant. “I think Hawk Moth is using the Brooch of Metamorphosis to change people. That’s what gives them their power. We were told we had to beware the butterflies. It’s the Butterfly Brooch.”

“The what?” The Ninja stared at him. “And what do you mean, you were told to beware the butterflies? Who told you?”

“Um. Would you believe me if I said oracles? The Am Drag has friends.”

“Wait, there’s a honkin’ prophecy?”

Danny sighed and recounted everything the oracle twins had told Jake—about him having friends to help him fight off the attacks, how they’d be facing threats they hadn’t dealt with before, and how they needed to beware of the butterflies.

The Ninja looked torn between incredulous and impressed. “That’s a lot clearer than anything I’m ever told,” he complained. “All I got was that to cleanse the soul, one must first clear the mind.”

“That’s…not straightforward?”

“No! It doesn’t tell me how to deal with the Sorceress!”

“But that’s my point. Maybe it’s not the Sorceress. Maybe it’s just this Hawk Moth. I know Jake’s dealt with magic users before. He might’ve run into her, or at least someone like her, so she wouldn’t exactly be a new threat, or a new kind of monster, or whatever.”

“Who’s Jake?”

Oh, crud.

Danny knew there were a lot of secrets Jake was tasked with keeping surrounding the magical world. He’d even kept Danny’s, once he’d learned it, from his family and friends. But if the Ninja had dealt with a sorceress and a sorcerer on what sounded like a fairly regular basis, maybe that counted as already knowing about the magical world. And maybe, if he used that as a technicality, Danny could fill in the Ninja without getting into more trouble. (He’d never asked Jake how much trouble he’d caused last time. He…hadn’t really wanted to.)

Besides, it would be a lot easier to get through this if they could use their real names, too.

And there had been that thing in the prophecies about getting help from friends.

And the Ninja had been trying to help.

“Jake’s the American Dragon,” Danny said. “Susan’s his mom. She just…shouldn’t have dragon powers. Normally. It skipped her generation.”

“Wait, what?”

“And I’m…not just a ghost.”

“You’re supposed to be a ghost?”

“I go by Phantom! How did you not figure that out? You call yourself the Ninja.”

“Yeah, because I’m actually a ninja. But Phantom could’ve just been a cool nickname. It’s not like you….” the Ninja trailed off, probably because Danny had crossed his legs and started hovering before holding up his hands and turning them invisible.

“Ghost,” he repeated, dropping back down the floor. “But also…not.” He changed back, watching the Ninja’s eyes widen even farther. “I’m Danny.” In for a penny, in for a pound. “Danny Fenton.” He stuck out his hand. It felt a little formal, but it would confirm that he was flesh and blood, which would be kinda important after insisting that he was a ghost.

The Ninja reached up to pull off his mask, and there was a flash of red and a flourish of cloth, and then a purple-haired teen grinned at Danny and gave his hand a quick shake. “Randy Cunningham. This is so bruce. I can’t believe you’re a real live ghost. I mean, I get to meet a dragon and a ghost in one day? This is the cheese. Howard is never going to believe me.”

“Don’t tell him,” Danny said quickly. This Howard obviously wasn’t here, but the fewer people who knew the details, the better. “People really aren’t supposed to know, and it’s bad if this gets out.”

“You have people like McFist after you, too?”

Danny had no idea who McFist was, either, but he nodded. “Yeah, we all do.” He hated to admit how wrong they’d gotten this, but— “This Hawk Moth person is probably after Chat Noir, and—”

“I don’t think Hawky knew Chat Noir was here,” interrupted Randy. “The critic lady was surprised to see him, and she said something about him being in a foreign country. And she wouldn’t know that, so Hawk Moth must’ve told her. Through their mind meld or however that works.”

Danny pulled a face. “Great.” To think Jake had thought Chat Noir might be working with Hawk Moth. They’d really messed this up. “I’m going to call Jake and catch him up. You…keep an eye out for Chat Noir. I don’t think we need to worry about Susan until she makes a move.”

“You still want to call the evil dragon lady Susan?”

“She’s not evil. She’s corrupted. And…I don’t know what else to call her. It’s not like she’s told us. But just…don’t use her name unless you’re talking to me or Jake and no one else can hear you.”

Randy frowned. “You said Jake’s her son, right?”

“Yeah?” Danny hoped Randy wasn’t about to ask for clarification on how dragon genetics worked, since he had absolutely no idea beyond the whole ‘skipped a generation’ thing. He couldn’t even explain his own genetics.

“He’s the shoob who’s responsible for all this.” Randy waved a hand around at the destruction. “I saw him and his mom. They looked like prime targets for the Sorceress. That’s why I saw what happened to her. I was keeping an eye out because I thought she was gonna get stanked.”

“So you know what Jake looks like in his human form.” That would make things easier. “Great.” Danny dug a couple of Fenton Phones out of his pocket and handed them to Randy. “Here, keep these on you. One’s for Jake; the other’s in case you see Chat Noir before I do. I wanna loop him in. And, um, apologize.”

“Apologize?” Randy echoed, but he was already shoving the Fenton Phones into his pocket. “For what? And why do you have spares? Did you invent these things?”

“My parents did.” He wasn’t going to go into the whole ghost hunter thing; it wasn’t important right now. “And, yeah, they’re useful, but they’re not always the most durable, so I’ve got spares. Just…a limited number, so try not to break or lose too many. I don’t exactly live around the corner.”

Thankfully, Randy didn’t press him on the whole ‘apology’ thing. Or maybe he’d already forgotten about it. “So what’s the plan? I’m still going to keep my eyes peeled for signs that this is the Sorceress, just in case, but I can’t fight that dragon by myself.”

“I don’t think you need to. Remember how I said she was testing you?” At Randy’s nod, Danny continued, “Well, now she knows you can do whatever you did to try to fight her. Which means she’ll be that much harder for you to surprise. And if you’re right about the weird mind meld thing, Hawk Moth will know, too.”

“So?”

“So that’s bad. Because Jake thinks they’re after something. Something besides Chat Noir’s Miraculous, apparently, if they weren’t expecting him. Look, Jake’s family…. They have a shop full of magical artefacts and stuff like that. So he’s probably not wrong about Hawk Moth’s motives. I mean, half the ghosts I fight want to take over this realm, so bad guys being obsessed with power isn’t exactly rare.”

“You’re a ghost and you fight other ghosts? What, do you live in the most haunted town in America or something?”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Safe bet that I do, yeah.” He held out his cell phone. “New plan—”

“Wait, what was the old plan?”

“—you call Jake and tell him about Chat Noir and Hawk Moth and what you saw happen and everything else. He’ll fill you in on whatever else you need to know. I’m going to do some recon.” When Randy took his phone, Danny changed back. “The fewer people who see what we’re doing, the better.” He tapped his Fenton Phone, adding, “Shout if you get into trouble,” before turning invisible.

He wasn’t sure if Susan had the same dragon abilities as Jake, so he wasn’t sure if she’d still be able to see him, but he knew he wouldn’t be easy to spot this way.

And whether they were fighting a magic user or a Miraculous user or both, he didn’t want to make this easy on them.

XXX

6:54 PM

Jake went ahead to do a quick scout to assess the situation so he could tell the others what they were flying into.

Trouble was, he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

Most of the crowd was still there, grumbling and wet and talking amongst themselves or on the phone, and he could see TV crews and paramedics and other people like that, but no ninja.

And, more importantly, no dragon.

He flattened his wings to his sides and dove into an alley, pulling up at the last moment and startling a leprechaun who looked like he’d been on his way to the stock exchange. Mumbling his apologies as the leprechaun muttered curses and picked up the fallen gold pieces, Jake let fire burn away his dragon form and peeked carefully out of the alleyway.

Predictably, the view wasn’t any better down here than it had been from above. But as he walked closer to the crowd and could pick up more of the scattered conversations, he knew there had been no miraculous fix, no magic that had caused everyone to forget what they’d seen. They all knew very well what they’d seen: a ninja fighting a dragon. Thankfully, the conversation tended to be more along the lines of how such a stunt had been pulled off than the fact that it was real.

“I don’t care how you do it, Viceroy! I want a Robo-Dragon! If this Ninja is anything like our Ninja, your next WND won’t be a failure!”

Well, most of it, anyway.

Jake tried to get a good look at the speaker without making it too obvious that he was looking. He didn’t know what a WND was supposed to be, but while robot dragons and ninjas weren’t exactly magical, there might be some overlap of relevant interests. And he did not want Rotwood to make friends with someone who could provide him with new technology to capture proof of magical creatures. Especially someone with enough resources to both attend this spectacularly expensive gala and just demand that a robot dragon be built, with no doubt in his voice that it would happen.

“Hanni, honey, you promised you wouldn’t work while we were on this trip,” the woman next to the man said. There was a steel edge in her voice that even Jake could recognize, and the man blanched.

“You can have another week of vacation if it’s done by the time I get back! Just get to work!” he yelled, and then he hung up and turned to the woman that was probably his wife. Jake realized with a start that he had a robotic arm and quickly looked away, not wanting to be caught staring. He was pretty sure the prosthetic had had a brain in it. With eyes. That was…messed up.

Even by his standards.

“You can buy a second dress,” the man offered.

“I don’t want a second dress. If I decide I do, I’ll buy it anyway. What I want is for you to do what you promised. The Ninja’s back in Norrisville; can’t we enjoy our vacation here?”

“Of course, sugar plum,” the man answered quickly. Jake wasn’t sure he believed him—and he rather doubted the woman would—but he couldn’t afford to eavesdrop much longer. He didn’t need anyone recognizing him from earlier, especially when he hadn’t even been thinking long enough to put on a different jacket. He was lucky he was dry; that might be his saving grace, since everyone else who’d been caught inside was still dripping or at least distinctly damp.

He would probably have to figure out where Norrisville was, though, and bring it up with Gramps. It sounded like another place they’d need to keep an eye on. Ninjas and robots didn’t scream magic, but it was…weird. And any place that was weird enough had magic somewhere, even if it was buried deep.

“I’ll see if there’s any word from the organizers,” the man said. “See if they’re setting up another venue or what the plan is, now that the dragon’s dealt with.”

He didn’t say it like the dragon was something that surprised him.

Okay, Jake was definitely going to have to check out this Norrisville place when this mess was over.

He waited a moment longer, hoping the man would say how the dragon had been dealt with, but he didn’t, mostly likely because his wife had been beside him the entire time and knew the answer. Jake wished he could ask, but that would mean drawing attention to himself. He moved on instead, avoiding the various TV crews and the police and grateful that he couldn’t spot Rotwood.

Trixie and Spud were on the case, but Rotwood would try to get around them. Not that there was anything he could do if the dragon was gone. Well, not anything beyond talking to a news station and insisting that, now that everyone else had seen the dragon, it was proof that he hadn’t been making anything up. Proof that the magical world did exist, that his studies weren’t theoretical, that—

Jake’s phone started to ring, and he answered immediately. “Yo, Danny, what happened to the dragon?”

“What do you mean what happened to the dragon?” It wasn’t Danny’s voice. It was the Ninja’s. Oops. “Can’t you see her? Isn’t she there? Or aren’t you here?” While Jake tried to figure out how to answer that without giving everything away, the Ninja added, “I’m Randy, by the way. Danny filled me in.”

Aw, man, why did Danny keep doing this to him?

Well, at least if Randy ran around dressed as a Ninja, he might already know about the magical world and get a pass. Hopefully Fu or Gramps would be able to come up with a good reason to let him keep whatever magical artefacts he had his hands on. They’d gotten the Dragon Council off Jake’s back about this secrecy before, at least when he could vouch for the people who had found out about it.

“Whaddaya know?”

Randy caught Jake up on his conversation with Danny and everything else he seemed to figure Jake had missed and needed to know. Jake wove through the crowd, trying not to give away much of anything in case someone happened to be listening to his side of the conversation, and tried to figure out if he could get into the building without being seen. He had his doubts. Why hadn’t Danny come to grab him instead of going off to do reconnaissance on his own? That would have been so much easier.

But Danny wasn’t terribly used to help, aside from whatever his sister and friends could give from the ground, and something like scouting would have always fallen to him—at least when he needed to fly to get the best view of things.

“Meet me outside,” Jake finally said. They might as well have the rest of this conversation face to face. He wanted Randy to be wrong, for this dragon lady to be someone other than his mother, but he had a picture of her on his phone. It would be an easy enough thing to verify. And then he’d know to warn the others. Especially Haley. He hadn’t given her too many details when he’d called her, figuring the fact that he was calling her to begin with would be enough for her to understand that this wasn’t some practice drill, but now that he knew it was their mom…. “I’ll wait on the corner across the street.” He didn’t need to give a description, not if Randy really did know who he was.

He just…. If Chat Noir really wasn’t their enemy, how were they going to figure out who was? It wasn’t like cat boy would be in the mood to tell them now. He might just attack them on sight, and Jake wouldn’t be able to blame him for that. He kinda doubted Randy would be able to act as much of a buffer, either.

He'd messed up.

You’ll have friends to help you out, Kara had said, but why couldn’t Sara have warned him that he’d make a powerful enemy if he didn’t think things through?

Well, Jake knew the answer to that, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

Sometimes, it would be a lot easier if he didn’t know anything about the future.

XXX

6:48 PM

Adrien didn’t have a clear view of the dragon. Getting to where he’d needed to go had taken longer than he’d hoped—he wasn’t convinced he was that much faster in Paris only because he knew his way around; these buildings weren’t what he was used to, either—and now that he was closer….

Now that he was closer, he couldn’t even see the dragon anymore. He’d had a glimpse of a shimmering purple-pink wing a few long seconds ago, enough to tell him that it wasn’t the same dragon he’d seen earlier, and then it had gone behind a building. By the time he’d gotten onto the rooftop of said building, the dragon was gone.

He spent more precious time scanning the skies for a departing akuma, just in case the Ninja had gotten here ahead of him again and figured out where the akuma was hiding, but there was nothing.

There were, however, television crews on the ground, and no longer just the ones who’d been sent to cover the gala. He’d taken enough of a risk showing his face earlier; how many times could he potentially be caught on tape before footage of Chat Noir in New York City turned up on the internet in a spot where Alya could find it? Sure, she wouldn’t necessarily connect the fact that Adrien Agreste and Chat Noir were in the NYC at the same time, not with any seriousness, but….

He couldn’t afford to risk it.

Of course, he couldn’t afford to let Hawk Moth get away with whatever he was trying to do, either.

If Alya figured it out, if her accusations of him being Chat Noir went beyond a joke she sent to Nino, then he’d…. He’d have to give up being Chat Noir. Give up Plagg, give up spending so much time with Ladybug, give up the freedom wearing the mask gave him.

But he wouldn’t deserve to be Chat Noir if he didn’t act now, all because he was too selfish to risk losing everything.

Still, that didn’t mean he shouldn’t be careful. The hooded sweater he’d bought wouldn’t do much to conceal his identity, but he’d be less conspicuous wearing that—even with the hood up, even in a crowd like the one below—than he would be as Chat Noir or Adrien Agreste. He should be able to pass as a curious bystander. Hopefully.

The alley below was empty, so Adrien extended his staff and then let it slowly collapse, bringing him back to ground level as quickly and quietly as possible. He ducked behind a dumpster before whispering for Plagg to pull his claws in, and he tugged the hood as far down over his eyes as it would go before straightening up.

“We shouldn’t be here,” Plagg whispered to him as he settled next to Adrien’s neck, hiding himself in the shadow of the hood. “I can smell the magic from here.”

“It’s just Hawk Moth,” Adrien murmured back. “You saw the Critic earlier.”

“This isn’t the same. It’s not the same as that ghost kid, either. Or the Ninja. They all smell different.”

That was enough to give Adrien pause. “Hawk Moth didn’t send Phantom? Why didn’t you tell me that on the roof? Or in the mall?”

“There were more important matters to discuss.”

“Like what?”

“Like getting me my camembert.”

Adrien rolled his eyes, even though he knew Plagg wouldn’t be able to see the movement. “I gave you the last of what I had with me.” He’d eventually decided to go back and ask the concierge at the hotel where would be the best place to go to get some more, and the man had graciously offered to order some in for him and have it sent up to the suite. Sure, the Critic had attacked before Adrien had had a chance to rest, and then Phantom had attacked him, and now this dragon had turned up, but…. But even if the cheese wasn’t there when Adrien went looking for it, Plagg would at least be able to eat something.

He might not be able to get back out into the fray as quickly as he’d like the next time he transformed and used Cataclysm, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to duck out in the middle of a fight to feed Plagg.

Even if it would be the first time doing so without Ladybug around to cover for him.

If the Ninja was still around, whoever he was, maybe he’d be willing to step in again.

Adrien would certainly need help cleaning up this mess and the one ahead, whenever Hawk Moth decided to activate the Critic’s akuma.

Granted, he hadn’t seen any statues of the Critic about, not like they had with Stoneheart. Maybe the akuma hadn’t proliferated yet? Or maybe the dormant akuma had taken on a different form?

Or maybe Hawk Moth had found a better target and recalled the Critic’s akuma before it had multiplied. Adrien only hoped he could be so lucky. But if this dragon wasn’t someone who’d been akumatized by Hawk Moth…. “Plagg,” Adrien said, overriding the kwami’s complaints, “if this isn’t Hawk Moth’s doing, whose is it?”

The kindly old man in the electronics store in Chinatown had reminded him more of Master Fu than anyone else, and the teenager hadn’t exactly struck him as evil, either. He’d been helpful, if a bit preoccupied, and if Plagg hadn’t warned him to leave—

“It’s an old magic you don’t want to get mixed up in.” Plagg paused, but he must have known that wasn’t enough. “Dragons are real,” he finally said, “and I can smell their magic at work here. It’s very distinctive—a little similar to Longg’s, but sharper—and if you have any doubt, the fact that you’ve seen two dragons should put that to rest.”

Adrien didn’t know who Longg was. He didn’t ask, figuring Plagg would tell him if he could, at least if he figured it was important. Of course, Plagg’s idea of what was important could be fairly skewed, but Adrien had learned to live with that. “What about Phantom? Or the Ninja?”

“Phantom’s a ghost.” Something in Plagg’s tone made Adrien’s spine crawl, but maybe that was because he’d seen firsthand how dangerous Phantom could be. And to find out he wasn’t even alive…. How could Adrien hope to stop him, if it came to that? If he decided he wanted the Miraculous— “The Ninja’s magic is more recent, relatively speaking. This millennium, anyway; not like the dragons. He doesn’t have a Miraculous, but he’s got at least one magical artefact helping him out.”

“And at least he’s an ally,” Adrien murmured. “He only ever tried to fight the Critic, not me, even after she mentioned the Miraculous.” But he was an ally Adrien might never see again. Whatever he’d said earlier, he wasn’t really a partner, not like Ladybug. He might have just been passing by, in the right spot at the right time, and come to help because he was a hero.

He could just as easily be gone, leaving Adrien to deal with this mess by himself.

Between Hawk Moth, the ghost, the dragons, and the fact that Nathalie and the Gorilla were surely looking for him by now….

“We need to figure this out fast,” Adrien said. “I don’t know how much time we have.”

“Not enough,” Plagg murmured. Adrien might not have heard it ordinarily, soft-spoken as it was, but with Plagg right under his ear, he heard it this time.

He hoped Plagg was wrong, and not just about how much time they had, but he couldn’t afford to take any chances.

Taking a steadying breath, Adrien left the safety of the alley and went in search of the dragon.

(see more fics | next)

[ladylynse]

Happy birthday, @queenofhearts7378! I managed to get it done in time. I wrote you a Secret Quartet ficlet.

Summons: The request to appear before the Dragon Council was...unexpected. And impossible to refuse. [FF | AO3]

“A summons?” Adrien repeated dumbly as he read over the mysterious letter in the relative safety of his bedroom. He’d found it stuffed in between sheets of piano music while practicing after lunch and had begged off to ‘study’ soon after. Fortunately for him, Nathalie had let him go. “Can they do that?”

“Dragons like to think they have authority over the entire magical world,” Plagg said. Adrien felt the kwami land on his shoulder. “They don’t, but enough people act like they do that they can get away with it.”

“This…. It says they want to evaluate my magical ability and assess the risk of exposure of the magical world.”

“Which just means Jake hasn’t told them about me and that they don’t believe you can keep a secret.” Plagg sniffed. “You better transform. They didn’t give you much warning.”

“What do you mean, they didn’t give me much warn—?” But the paper was turning to ash in his hands, and wind that shouldn’t exist inside his bedroom caused the remains to swirl around him. Adrien cried out for Plagg to transform him as the miniature whirlwind thickened, and then it closed off his view of his room completely.

XXXX

When the whirling ash cleared and the dizzying sensation of being caught inside it abated, Adrien found himself standing on the stone floor of some kind of open-air temple. A bright mosaic spread out around him, depicting a battle between two dragons whose names he didn’t know. Columns rose on either side, and between them…. 

Well, between the nearest pair of columns stood someone who looked very much like an elderly man dressed sharply in blue, but Adrien had no doubt that he was much more than he appeared to be.

“Chat Noir. Bienvenue.” The man inclined his head. “I am Councillor Kulde. Please, come with me.”

Adrien didn’t move. “This is the Isle of Draco.” It was more statement than question at this point; he didn’t know where else he could be. “Why am I here?”

“You are here because it is necessary for us to meet,” answered Kulde, “just as it is necessary for us to meet your friends.”

Kulde was a dragon, which meant the friends he was talking about were Randy and Danny. Adrien shifted his weight, readying himself to run if it proved necessary. He doubted he could outrun a dragon, but he might have a chance if he could make it to the trees where Kulde wouldn’t be able to easily follow him. “They’re here, too?”

“Councillors Andam and Omina are greeting them,” Kulde said, as if that explained anything. As if that made a difference.

“So you kidnapped us?”

“You answered our summons.”

“How is this a summons? I was hardly given a choice!” Anger wouldn’t win him any favours, but it was hard to keep his emotions out of his voice.

“The summons were enchanted to come only when you all would not be missed. You needn’t worry about being discovered. We are careful.”

Adrien wanted to run, to fight, to do anything but go along calmly, but diplomacy was the only thing that might help him—help them—right now. Randy was hopeless at it, Danny little better, and Jake…. Jake still had a lot to learn. If anyone was going to speak for them, it would have to be him.

He couldn’t afford to give Kulde any more than he already had.

“Very well.” Adrien was careful to keep his voice level. Reserved. He tried to emulate his father. That was easier than relaxing his stance. “Please lead the way.”

XXXX

“This is wonk,” Randy insisted as he trailed after the guy who’d introduced himself as Councillor Andam. “You don’t need to put us on trial!”

“No one is on trial,” Andam said calmly. He didn’t pause, and Randy had to run to keep up—not an easy task, given the rocky terrain at the base of the mountain. Or volcano? Whatever it was. Maybe a volcano, considering how much it looked like the base of Mt. Chuck. Either way, he didn’t want to get left behind here, especially not when he was pretty sure Jake had said something about sections of this island being booby-trapped.

“It’s not like Jake told us about the magical world. We found out on our own.”

“Many have discovered it on their own,” agreed Andam.

Randy waited, but Andam didn’t give any indication that that was okay.

And Jake had mentioned how he technically should’ve given some kind of mindwipe potion to Trixie and Spud.

Really, Randy already knew this was in his future when he was through being the Ninja; he didn’t want to get it prematurely. Again. Especially at the cost of his friendship with the others.

He kept talking, hoping something would get through to Andam, but if the councillor was moved by anything Randy said, he didn’t show it. His expression remained calm, composed, and closed. Randy had no idea what he was thinking. Which didn’t help matters.

His current rambling probably wasn’t helping matters, either, but he kept hoping he’d hit upon something.

Andam led him towards what might be some kind of training ground. Okay. Randy could deal with that. He’d brought his mask. He could show them that the Ninja wasn’t as incompetent as Jake’s stories might have painted him. He could show them that he had the right to defend Norrisville, that he’d been chosen as the Ninja for a reason, that they didn’t have any right to say he wasn’t fit to be the Ninja of Norrisville. He could prove himself and show off some bruce moves.

Probably.

Randy spotted Adrien, already masked as Chat Noir, but he couldn’t see Danny or Jake. To be fair, Randy wasn’t sure if he would see Jake. Their association with Jake must be why they were here, why this Dragon Council had used some teleportation magic Jake had never mentioned to bring them here, but these people trusted Jake, more or less. He was the American Dragon, and they hadn’t stripped him of that. And…and maybe they wouldn’t see Danny, either. Ghosts were technically magical creatures, and if Danny was half-ghost, he wasn’t any different from Jake, who was half-dragon.

But Randy was like Adrien: an ordinary kid who needed to use magic—someone else’s magic—to have any special powers.

Andam left him standing beside Adrien and moved to join the group of adults standing opposite them. It…it really felt like a trial, even if it wasn’t supposed to be. And of the people on the council….

Randy frowned and pointed at the sole woman. “What’s she doing here?”

“That’s Councillor Chang,” Adrien hissed.

“What the juice? Isn’t she the evil one?”

Adrien’s kick wasn’t very subtle, but Randy got the point: shut up. Making accusations wouldn’t help them, and if Chang was here, she must’ve been cleared of whatever charges had been against her.

Seriously, though. She was the evil one. Randy was not about to trust her. If he had known she’d be here, he’d have put on his mask so she couldn’t see his face. Which is probably what he should’ve done anyway, but it was Sunday, and he’d been in the middle of breakfast, and who would’ve thought opening the mail would require him to be masked? He was lucky he’d had it on him at all.

“Do you know if Danny’s coming or if it’s just us?” Randy asked, this time trying to keep his voice low.

“I think he’s here,” Adrien answered quietly. “You came with Councillor Andam, so Councillor Omina is supposed to be meeting him.”

Randy didn’t remember which one Omina was, but he hadn’t remembered which one Andam was, either. He only really remembered Chang, since Jake had gone into great detail about her so they all knew who to avoid in case she ever showed up on their turf.

Councillor Omina turned up about five minutes later—though it felt more like fifteen or twenty, Adrien didn’t look the least bit fidgety, so it couldn’t have been that long—from the direction of the beach, with Danny (as Phantom) trailing sourly behind her. He looked wet, which was weird, because he could just go intangible and dry off.

Randy wondered how much he was going to regret the Dragon Council knowing his real identity. Since magic had been involved in getting him here, they probably hadn’t needed to know who he was; the magic letter could have just been enchanted to find the Ninja. Sure, they still might not know his name, but now they knew his face, and—

“My apologies for the delay,” Omina said smoothly. “Phantom is stubborn.”

Danny wiped at the water dripping from his hair into his eyes. “Hey, I still came, so you can stop it with the water curse thing already.”

Omina just smiled. The other councillors nodded, and Randy didn’t see anything change, but all of a sudden Danny was dry, so Omina must have stopped whatever she’d been doing.

Danny was still scowling when he flew over to hover by Randy and Adrien, though. Randy knew he didn’t like remaining intangible for long periods of time—he claimed it was too tiring—and Randy could only guess that whatever magic Omina had done counted on that. That wasn’t entirely comforting. He’d thought, from the letter, that the Dragon Council didn’t know much about them, but….

“Thank you for joining us today,” said Andam. He introduced the councillors again and basically repeated what the letter had said about why they were here. As far as Randy could tell, Jake hadn’t told them much, if anything, and they wanted to know more.

Randy itched to sit down, but Adrien hadn’t moved, and Danny was cheating by floating cross-legged in the air.

No one offered them chairs, but Chang brought forward a selection of food and beverages from a table Randy hadn’t noticed earlier. (He wasn’t sure if it had actually been there earlier or if he just hadn’t noticed it. Hard to tell when magic was involved.) None of them took anything, and judging by Danny’s glare, he didn’t need Adrien’s confirmation that Chang was the evil councillor. She’d probably poison them as soon as drug them with something, just to distract Jake long enough for her to get whatever she wanted for whatever she was trying to do now.

Randy didn’t realize how much he’d zoned out the entire discussion until Danny burst out, “This is so stupid! You can’t keep us here. You had no right to bring us here. Chat Noir and the Ninja were entrusted with the secrets that allow them to be Chat Noir and the Ninja. They can keep a secret. They already are keeping secrets, theirs and yours. And I’m a ghost. Doesn’t that mean you’re supposed to protect me, too? Not interrogate me?”

Councillor Kukulkhan stepped forward. “The Panther once protected my people. My ancestors worked with him. Honoured him. And then he vanished, and the old ways faltered, and the Central American Dragons of the time were not enough to save them. The magical society was decimated, the common populace little better. How can I be sure that the same pattern will not be repeated here?”

Adrien swallowed. “You wish to hold me responsible for crimes committed generations past, ones of which I have little to no knowledge?”

“The fault is your own,” Councillor Omina retorted. “You cannot stand here and claim to uphold a legacy when you do not understand it or know its histories. My people were also visited by the Black Cat, and my land was lost to the waters because of it.”

Adrien winced, and Randy guessed he’d heard that story.

“The Norisu Nine are also not without fault,” Chang put in. “Were they competent, there would be no need for the Norrisville Ninja today.”

“Hey! The Sorcerer is one shnasty piece of work. And if you guys are so great, why didn’t you help them defeat the Sorcerer in the first place?”

Chang’s lip curled. “You would know that answer if you knew any of the history of the land in which you live.”

“We don’t intend to bring harm to the magical community any more than we do to the people we protect every day,” Adrien said. “The Ninja will protect Norrisville as long as is necessary. I will do the same in Paris, and Phantom in Amity Park. When needed, we will work together with the American Dragon, regardless of where that fight takes us. Because of what we do, you and the other dragons are free to deal with larger issues affecting the magical community. Is that not true?”

Chang smiled. “Then surely you will not protest proving your worth, as the American Dragon has?”

“Proving our worth how?” Danny asked suspiciously. “You know about us. You already know what we can do.”

“A more formal evaluation would not be amiss,” Kulde said quietly. “I would test your judgement in fire.”

“And I your wisdom in battle,” said Andam.

“And I your courage in flight,” added Chang.

“He’s the only one who can fly!” Randy protested, pointing at Danny.

Chang shrugged. “Your courage in fight, then.”

Danny crossed his arms. “Fine. When do we start?”

The dragons transformed. “Now,” cackled Chang, sending a wave of fire at them.

XXXXX

Danny bit back a curse and flew at Randy and Adrien, turning them all intangible before the flames hit. He hadn’t fought enough practice battles with Dora to be wholly comfortable with something like this, but he probably had more experience fighting dragons than the other two.

“We need a plan,” Adrien said.

“Don’t have time for plans!” Randy was digging through his pockets, trying to find his mask. “We need to move!”

Adrien grimaced. “Stay with Randy till he’s transformed. I’ll distract them.”

Danny didn’t argue. As the flames died down, Adrien rolled away from them and pulled out his staff, vaulting over the dragons and then spinning it to deflect further flames and— That was ice. Kulde could breathe ice.

Danny could handle ice.

“What do you think?” Randy asked once he was suited up. “Ninja Tengu Fireball or Ninja Hydro Hand or Ninja Air Fist or Ninja Earth Attack?”

“I think your all attacks have long names,” Danny retorted. “But if you go with your water fist, don’t waste your time around Omina.”

Randy groaned. “Fine. I’ll see how she likes a Ninja Electro-Ball and then fight fire with fire.” He broke off, taking the right flank since Adrien was coming more from the left.

Danny turned invisible and shot forward, shooting ghost rays or ice blasts in turn to buy his friends the time they needed. He didn’t think he’d win a battle of wills against any of the dragons if he tried to overshadow them, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to use every other trick he had.

Including, if it came to it, his ghostly wail.

The island was uninhabited but for them, anyway.

And Adrien would use his Cataclysm if he needed to.

The dragons all had different fighting styles, none of which resembled Jake’s, which made predicting their moves difficult. But Adrien’s agility meant he wasn’t an easy target, and Randy called up an army of Sandjas to help them fight on the ground while tossing everything he had at the dragons. Danny stuck with protecting them from the air—and distracting the dragons from there, especially when he saw Adrien vault over to talk to Randy.

Those two began coordinating their attacks, trying to divide and conquer, and Danny helped out however he could.

By the time Andam called for the battle to halt, Danny was exhausted and headed immediately for the ground. Randy gave up and just lay down after pulling off his mask, and Adrien was hunched over, his hands on his knees as he took huge gulps of air. Danny had no idea how Adrien had gotten through the fight without using Cataclysm—he hadn’t been able to watch that closely—but he knew it wouldn’t have been easy.

The dragons themselves, back in human form, showed the occasional battle scar—a cut on the cheek, a favoured wrist, that sort of thing—and though they stood as straight as before, their fatigue was easier to see.

“Well fought,” said Andam. The admiration was clear in his voice. “You showed much wisdom in battle.”

“And excellent judgement in fire,” said Kulde.

Chang sniffed. “Your courage was adequate, I suppose.”

Danny raised an eyebrow, but at a warning look from Adrien, he didn’t open his mouth.

“We have proven our worth, as you requested,” Adrien said. “Now let us return home and—”

“Not so fast.” Chang raised a finger. “I said your courage was adequate, but that is not enough.”

“Councillor,” warned Andam.

“I agree with Councillor Chang,” Omina said, earning surprised looks from everyone, including Chang herself. “I believe that if you are to be protectors of the magical world, as you are by the very virtue of who you are—the Ninja, the Phantom, the Black Cat—you should understand what it is you are protecting.”

Randy sat up. “You want us to come here for history class?”

“Additional training also would not be amiss,” Kukulkhan pointed out, “particularly if you intend to work regularly with the American Dragon.”

“None of us have time for additional classes,” Danny said flatly. “History, training, whatever. We’re not coming here once a week or anything like that. We fight well as a team already.” He glanced at Adrien and then risked adding, “Besides, we’re not intending to tell you any more about our secrets, so don’t think you can bring us here on some excuse just to study us.”

He thought Adrien would rebuke him for that—silently, given that they were trying to make the point that they were a good team already—but instead, Adrien smiled. “Dragons,” he said, quite clearly, “do not have authority over the entire magical world. If our areas truly endangered yours, you would have sought us out long before we began working with the American Dragon.”

Danny shared a surprised look with Randy, but none of the dragons corrected Adrien, so he must have been right.

“If you wish to speak with us again,” added Adrien, “please inform the American Dragon. He will hereby act as our contact with the Dragon Council, and he will arrange any subsequent meetings in accordance to our schedules. We will not decline a meeting without good reason, so a summons like we all received today will be unnecessary. Is that clear?”

Kulde smiled. “Crystal,” he agreed. “Your demands are quite reasonable, Chat Noir, as are your concerns. Allow me to extend my apologies on behalf of the Dragon Council for your seemingly abrupt meeting with us all today. I can assure you we did not mean to cause alarm.”

Randy groaned. “Can we please just go home now? I really want to finish breakfast.”

Andam laughed, and the tension amongst the council members drained away. Well, except for Chang. She still looked more than unhappy, but she didn’t protest when Andam invited them to stay for lunch. Danny, Randy, and Adrien found themselves served from the same plates of food as the dragons themselves—which was just as well, since none of them trusted Chang as far as they could throw her, meaning they didn’t take anything until they saw the dragons partake freely. (If Chang was going to pull something, it wouldn’t be in front of the entire council, not after they’d agreed to play nice.) The food was good, some of the best Danny had ever had, though after growing up in a household with regularly contaminated food, his standards weren’t terribly high.

“Good job getting us through that,” Danny murmured to Adrien when he had the chance.

“Thank Plagg later,” Adrien whispered back, “though I wouldn’t have been able to do it if we hadn’t held up as well as we did in the fight. They wouldn’t have believed anything I said if we couldn’t back it up.”

Danny grinned and raised his glass. “To teamwork.”

Adrien smiled, raising his, and Randy hastily swallowed and clinked their glasses. “To teamwork,” they echoed.

(see more fics)

[ladylynse]

Hey, @queenofhearts7378, I finally got another part of your prize written.... *grins* Here’s Part V of Whirlwind! [FF | AO3] Here’s the timeline post if anyone wants a refresher, or you can check out Part IV again.

6:16 PM

Jake didn’t expect his cell phone to start ringing, but he wasn’t entirely surprised to answer it and find Danny on the other end of the line. The line crackled with wind, meaning Danny was moving and doing a poor job of sheltering his phone, and if he was calling without stopping— “What’s up?” Jake asked, not entirely sure he wanted to hear the answer. Hadn’t getting reamed out by his mom been enough? If something had gone wrong with Danny’s fight with cat boy—

“Did you give your Fenton Phone away to some guy calling himself the Ninja?”

Jake groaned. He wasn’t even halfway to the shop—on foot, because he wasn’t wholly eager to get there and explain the whole disaster to Gramps and Fu when it would just mean he’d be yelled at in Chinese and subtly reminded that this was important—and this was not the news he wanted to hear. “Aw, man, he didn’t call to report the fire, did he?” If Danny knew about the Ninja, then he probably knew about everything else, too, and Jake was not in the mood to deal with this right now. At least nothing had gone drastically wrong with cat boy or Danny would have led with that. Not that one bright spot stood for much in this mess. These Miraculous things sounded important, and the Dragon Council was not going to be impressed if they found out he couldn’t stop people from misusing magical artefacts.

Especially when he’d gotten a warning from the Oracle twins.

“What fire?”

“Okay, look, there was this big deal fashion show in town. My mom was catering it. But it’s spitting distance from where we caught cat boy, and the Ninja had already fought someone I’m pretty sure was powered up by our friend with the Butterfly Brooch. I went to warn my mom and things went south.”

“You…. Are you telling me you set the building on fire?”

“Not intentionally! And the sprinklers put it out anyway. My point is, I kinda ruined the show and Mom sent me back to the shop to get Fu and Gramps for backup. She figures we’re gonna need more help—”

“From what the Ninja was saying, she’s not wrong. He won’t give details, but he figures something bad’s about to go down.” The wind noise died away; wherever Danny was, he’d finally stopped moving. “Look, Jake, about Chat Noir. Cat boy. I don’t think we have this right. I don’t think he’s the bad guy here. He was scared of me.”

“You’re a ghost. He probably knew he couldn’t touch you.”

A snort. “That wasn’t it. He could’ve distracted me by endangering a whole bunch of people’s lives, but he never tried it.”

“Maybe because he couldn’t touch you and wanted to stay on your good side? If his partner’s got this Brooch of Metamorphosis—”

“The only time he mentioned his partner was when he said he could beat me without them.”

“Right, because apparently his partner’s working the show my mom was catering. Until I tried to warn her and wrecked it.”

“Just…double check what your book says about the Cat Ring and the Butterfly Brooch. This Ninja guy said he thought things were gonna turn fast, and…. I dunno, Jake. I want to make sure we’re on the right side of this. Something doesn’t feel right.”

They couldn’t really afford to ignore the Oracle twins’ warnings on the basis of feelings, but Jake trusted Danny. “Chill. I’ll take a second look. Or make Fu do it.” Danny’s silence made it clear he wasn’t convinced, so Jake asked Danny for identifying landmarks and told him which way to fly to get to the show. If the Ninja had read the situation right, Jake didn’t really want him to be the only one on the scene.

Danny hadn’t said what had happened with his fight with cat boy—Chat Noir—but Jake could read between the lines. Chat Noir might not have destroyed anything, but he’d managed to give Danny the slip. Jake knew Danny’s skills; that would be almost impossible to do alone. But if he’d managed to make contact with his partner….

Jake ducked into the nearest alley and transformed, heading straight for the shop. Whether or not Danny was right, whether or not the Ninja was right, they needed to figure this out. He was the American Dragon. He couldn’t keep dragging his feet like this. Angry as his mom had been, she might even ask Haley to help him on this. (Unfortunately, Jake knew that if Haley had already been helping him, the mess at the show wouldn’t have happened. She wouldn’t have had any trouble sneaking in to go warn their mom about the danger. She was too cute for people to suspect her. It was really annoying.)

He was barely through the back door of the shop when his cell phone was ringing again. “Did you get lost?” he asked, knowing it was going to be Danny.

“Please tell me you have a cousin in town or something.”

“Uh….”

“Crud. I should’ve known. Just grab Fu and Gramps and get down here as fast as you can. Don’t, uh, worry about being inconspicuous. You can’t make things worse.”

Danny hung up before Jake could ask for details.

Fu brushed the chip crumbs from his chest and pushed away the book he’d been reading. “You and Phantom walk into some planned catastrophe?”

Jake wasn’t even sure where to start. “Yo, we need to get down to the gala Mom’s catering. Like, now. Something happened. I’ll fill in you and G on the rest of the stuff on the way.”

Fu stared at him. “Kid—”

“I’m gonna call Haley to be on standby.” He hated that he was doing this, but he had some idea of what Danny had been through, and his idea of bad…. “Grab that old book on the Miraculous and bring it.”

“Jake? What is going on?”

He hadn’t even noticed Gramps appear in the back of the store. “Something…bad,” he said. “I don’t—”

His cell phone rang again.

Jake answered it without even looking. “Yo, can you spill a few—?”

“Turn on the news, Jakey.”

He blinked. “Trixie?” He’d been expecting Danny again.

“News. Now. Like, any local channel.” And then she hung up.

And then he got a text from Spud. U want us on Rotwood duty?

Jake ran for the nearest functioning TV.

It didn’t take him long to find out what was up. It was on every channel. After all, it was hard to miss. There was a dragon circling above what remained of the crowd from the fashion show gala.

The camera cut to show the Ninja yelling up at the dragon, who paid him no mind.

“Aw, maaan.”

XXXXXXXXX

6:35 PM

Adrien was standing on the platform of the metro, waiting to transfer, when he heard about the dragon.

It started as a sudden exclamation by a young woman telling her friends. At first, he’d thought he’d misunderstood, but then he heard pieces of the story from other hushed—and not so hushed—conversations in the crowd. The ruined fashion show. The fire trucks and other emergency vehicles. The dragon that was surely the cause of it all.

Hawk Moth must have recalled Phantom’s akuma. He must have found someone else to transform, another soul to twist. Except….

Except Adrien had already seen a dragon, or thought he had, and hearing of one now was proof enough. He’d seen one when he’d been captured by Phantom. Which meant neither Phantom nor the dragon were the ones who had been originally akumatized; it was someone else, someone who had the ability to turn others into fairy tale creatures.

If Hawk Moth had wanted to cause chaos, this was surely the way to do it. Adrien had been able to defeat the Critic, would have managed it even without the Ninja’s help, but he couldn’t fight multiple battles on multiple fronts without Ladybug. He might be able to bring her back one akuma, if there were some way to capture and trap it, but not one for every magical creature Hawk Moth intended for him to face. He’d have to find the person who was transforming everyone, and he wouldn’t have a chance to do that until they showed their hand.

Unless they already had.

Ninjas didn’t really count as fairy tale creatures, but they were steeped in legend. The Ninja hadn’t seemed like a bad person, but he might not even realize what he’d gotten into. Hawk Moth gave some of his victims more autonomy than others, and if the Ninja didn’t even realize he was creating monsters to fight—

No. The Ninja had made no move to get his Miraculous, and even if Hawk Moth had assumed Ladybug and Chat Noir had been left behind in Paris, he’d be quick to make that correction. Especially when Ladybug wasn’t here. Hawk Moth might not care about the damage he left behind, but Adrien certainly did, and he suspected Hawk Moth knew that.

If Hawk Moth didn’t want him, hadn’t counted on him or Ladybug being here, then he wanted something else. Other Miraculous, perhaps. There must be more. He’d think that’s what the Ninja had if his costume had made some sort of reference to an animal. Plagg thought other magic was at play, but if it was, how had Hawk Moth found out about it? He knew about the Miraculous, certainly knew more about the Miraculous than Adrien did, so maybe that’s all it was. Maybe he didn’t know about the other magic here, whatever form that magic took. And if there was another Miraculous in New York City—

He couldn’t be sure. Not yet. He’d find out more when he fought to protect the city from the dragon. If he was lucky, the dragon would be as talkative as Phantom had been. And if he was really lucky, the Ninja would turn up again to help him.

Adrien checked the time. His train wasn’t due for at least another minute, and there was an attack happening now. He could travel much faster as Chat Noir than as Adrien. He didn’t know this city from above, but he knew where he was, and he knew where he was going. That would have to be enough.

Adrien slipped away in search of a place to transform and hoped he’d get there before too much damage was done.

XXXXXXX

6:41 PM

There was so much fire.

Randy heaved another Ninja Hydro Hand at the flames licking the pavement and was rewarded with a curtain of steam. (How could stone burn, anyway? That was wonk. What kind of magic was this?) He knew he wasn’t out of Ninja Cold Balls yet, but his supply had to be running low.

The smart people in the crowd had run screaming. Too many of them had lagged behind, thinking this was some kind of show. Because fire-breathing dragons were always part of some kind of show. And anyone who could afford to buy something at a fashion show like this had a lot of money, so the people putting on this show had a lot of money, and cool pyrotechnics were almost expected these days.

…Or did people just attend these things and not actually buy something? He really had no idea.

The dragon overhead swooped low, dodged with unfair ease the Ninja Electro-Ball he threw at her (it?), and sent a blaze of fire between him and the crowd, pushing them back.

Randy groaned.

He hadn’t looked closely recently, being too busy dealing with the dragon, but he was pretty sure some of the flashing lights he could still see belonged to firetrucks. He was also pretty sure the firefighters hadn’t just abandoned their jobs to gawk at the dragon, gawk-worthy as she clearly was.

But he was the Ninja.

Fighting a dragon.

In a place where crazy stunts were more the norm than actual magic.

He had no idea what it would take to convince people that this wasn’t a setup and that they were actually in danger. Then again, the dragon hadn’t targeted them specifically. Driven them back, yes, but she hadn’t pulled any shoob move that would’ve resulted in some extra-crispy attendees. She hadn’t gone after any of the vehicles, trying to make something explode or cause more damage. She hadn’t even really done much to the building. She’d mostly just cleared the area in front and, well, focused on him. Which, despite totally being his plan when he’d run after her, was…odd, now that he thought about it.

He went through the motions, calling up another Ninja Hydro Hand, and glanced up.

She was flying lazy circles overhead, expertly avoiding buildings but still managing to catch updrafts when she needed them. She flew like she was an expert at it, like she’d studied it all her life or had a natural skill for aerodynamics. Maybe she studied birds in her free time or something.

She was watching him, her eyes never seeming to flick away from his figure, as if she had some kind of sixth sense and didn’t even need to watch where she was going.

He doused the flames.

She dove.

He tossed a Ninja Bee Ball at her before remembering that their stingers probably wouldn’t pierce dragon hide, and she set the stone on fire again.

He was hot enough that he was seriously debating the merits of using a Ninja Cold Ball on himself, but at least the mask—or maybe its magic—helped him to withstand all the smoke.

“What do you want?” he yelled at her. She’d flown up out of range of anything he could throw at her—again—and had resumed watching him. Maybe she was just trying to wear him out. Maybe he shouldn’t keep putting out the fire. Except then there would be fire, and that would be bad.

At least, when he was fighting robots or monsters, he knew what they wanted. How was he supposed to stop a fire-breathing dragon who didn’t seem to have any kind of goal beyond playing with him until he dropped to the ground out of sheer exhaustion? She hadn’t said anything. He didn’t know if she could even speak or if she’d just spout unintelligible monster gibberish. He’d only heard her roar, which in retrospect had served well when it came to scaring half the crowd away.

He wished it had scared the whole crowd away.

Seriously, people in the place needed to learn when to run.

He wished the Am Drag would come back. This dragon was bigger than the Am Drag, but he could at least fly and catch her. Alternatively, Randy wouldn’t mind Chat Noir turning up again. He could clearly get some good height with his baton stick thing, providing he’d managed to find it wherever Randy had dropped it, and if they worked together, they could totally take this dragon down. He seemed to have some idea of what the whole evil butterfly thing was, too.

Honestly, though, Randy would settle for Mr. Mysterious Voice finally showing up.

Randy didn’t realize he’d gone back to staring at the flames until they were suddenly covered in ice and then gone altogether. He blinked, wondering if he’d thrown a Ninja Cold Ball and somehow immediately forgotten about it.

“Ninja, we need to talk,” a familiar voice said from behind him, and Randy turned.

The voice in question belonged to a teenager (just like him) who didn’t seem to be holding any weapons (just like him) but whose suit was definitely wonk, even by Randy’s standards. The white hair was kinda distinctive, too, and he wasn’t wearing a mask, but maybe secret identities weren’t as much of a thing in the NYC because of all the people.

Randy pointed upwards. “Dragon.”

The boy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I got that. I wanna know what else you know. Like why there’s a dragon.”

Randy stared. “You don’t find a dragon weird? I mean, that’s a real, actual, live, fire-breathing dragon. Emphasis on fire-breathing.”

The boy looked up and considered the dragon for a moment, who miraculously hadn’t decided to dive again and try to fry them both where they stood. Randy decided not to question his spot of good luck. “Yeah,” the boy finally said, “I guess you’re right about the living part. Unfortunately.”

“Wh…how…what? Why is that the part you’re questioning?” His voice did not climb when he said that. Howard did not have it recorded, so it didn’t happen. “I saw a woman get turned into a dragon!”

“A woman, huh?” The boy bit his lip and glanced toward the crowd. As if they were the problem and not the dragon. “Yeah, that’s kinda what I was afraid of. Um. Let’s talk inside.” He made a vague gesture toward the building.

Since Randy had a mask over his face, the other boy couldn’t appreciate his gaping. “I’m in the middle of a fight!”

The boy shook his head. “You’re not fighting. You’re being tested. I was watching. The dragon’s never gone for the crowd, just made you think that so you’d react. She wants to know what you can do.”

Randy crossed his arms. “So why’s she not testing you?”

The boy looked up at her again. “Maybe because she already knows what I can do?” he offered, though his words were full of enough doubt that Randy was entirely unconvinced. “This isn’t my first time in the city, and I think…. I think I know who she is, and the whole dragon thing isn’t normal for her.” He said that like it was normal for anybody, but if Randy asked, it would just delay the fight for longer. And the dragon was still watching them. Waiting. He didn’t like counting on the fact that she’d keep waiting. The moment he did that was the moment she’d stop and decide to move. And then it really would be a fight, even if Mr. Mysterious Voice didn’t think it had been before now. (What kind of shoob stood back to watch a dragon when he could clearly help fight it because he also could do stuff with ice?)

“We need to help her,” the boy continued. He looked back at Randy. “Seriously, can we just talk inside or otherwise away from the cameras for, like, two minutes? I really don’t want my face plastered all over the news if I can help it.”

He was not going to give up on the talking thing, was he? Randy scrubbed a hand over his face. “I can’t believe we’re getting away with this,” he muttered, but he followed the new kid and ran for cover.

XXXXXX

6:45 PM

The darkened suite of his hotel room was quiet, safely away from the chaos of the gala for all that it was so near, but Gabriel had still expected to be able to hear screams from across the street, to hear the wailing sirens and the dragon’s roar and the shouts of the failing heroes. Instead, the silence began to stretch, as if everyone were waiting.

When a second hero had run out to join the first, he hadn’t questioned Dracona’s decision to wait. He had not seen if this new hero had come with hidden friends; neither had she. When she’d decided to tilt her wings and circle again, he’d thought her reconnaissance a wise move. But then she’d let the Ninja and the new hero run off to the relative safety of the evacuated site of the gala, and her only response had been to bank right, beat her wings a few times, and circle again.

“Why are you not pursuing them, Dracona?” Gabriel growled, clenching his cane tighter. The Ninja had shown more of his hand, but the newest hero…. Gabriel knew nothing of him, aside from his ability to spread ice in a speed and volume great enough to counter Dracona’s flames.

“You wanted information about this city’s superheroes.” He could sense laughter in her response. “I’ve gotten a good look at the Ninja and have run into Phantom before. Neither belongs in this city.”

Gabriel let out a slow breath. “Where they belong doesn’t matter. They are acting as heroes—”

“Where they belong matters immensely. You only wanted information on this city’s heroes.”

“They are fighting in this city,” he answered through gritted teeth. “However temporarily, that makes them this city’s heroes.”

“I don’t agree. Their loyalty remains elsewhere. Help though they may, the responsibility of the NYC falls on the shoulders of other heroes.”

He should have her writhing in pain for even thinking of speaking to him this way, but she’d be more useful to him if he delayed that method until further pressed. After all, if she still gave him the information he wanted…. “You said you are familiar with this Phantom. Tell me about him.”

“His chosen name is rather explanatory.”

Then again, if she continued to be difficult, he just needed to—

Gabriel frowned. There was no disruption in their connection, but his displeasure wasn’t being translated into pain. Instead, he felt laughter, as if she knew precisely what he’d tried to do, and—

“You unlocked my power,” she breathed, “but you do not control it.”

And then there was nothing. No sensations, no feedback, no knowledge of Dracona’s that he could use to further his plan. She was his champion, but she had somehow managed to shut him out.

“Dark wings fall.” Something was wrong, something was faulty, something was— “Nooroo, why is this happening?”

The kwami ducked his head. “She is right, master,” he murmured. “My magic only served as a key for her latent power.”

“Then we’ll lock it up again,” Gabriel snarled. He had read of many types of magic, but none that would cause a reaction such as this. “We’ll see how bold she is once my akuma is recalled.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple, master.”

Gabriel bit down on the urge to restrict Nooroo’s speech; right now, Nooroo was the only source of information he had. “And why do you say that?”

“I…I don’t know if I can contain her magic with mine now that the path is established.”

“Her magic.” Nooroo would know he was asking for details. The kwami would also know how displeased he’d be if he wasn’t given them.

“It’s a blood magic, not something that can be taken a—”

“But something that can be used?”

Nooroo hesitated.

That was all the answer Gabriel needed.

The means might be more complicated, but he had need of magic, and if he’d happened to akumatize someone with a direct line to that magic, he’d be a fool not to capitalize upon it. She might not want to give him the information he required, but she’d agreed to the contract, and she couldn’t shut him out forever. She had to tell him something.

Even if it was only about herself.

(see more fics | next)

[ladylynse]

Happy birthday, @azthedragon​! Here’s a RC:9GN ficlet for you. Post S2. 

Roots: [FF | AO3] The Sorcerer is gone, but he left some roots behind. At least, that might be what First Ninja is trying to say. Randy’s not really sure.

Now that the Sorcerer was gone, things were actually pretty bruce. Randy didn’t have to worry about kids getting stanked anymore, and that cut out a lot of work. He had way more time to play all versions of Grave Puncher with Howard or hit the arcade, and he managed to complete more assignments than before.

McFist was still after him, but Randy wasn’t entirely sure why. They’d worked together against the Sorcerer. And without him trying to get free, McFist didn’t gain a whole lot by destroying the Ninja. That didn’t stop him and Viceroy from sending robots to the school, though—and a questionable new frozen yogurt machine that Randy would enjoy more if it didn’t have a warning sign printed on it. (To his knowledge, Debbie had written but not yet published something. He was willing to see where the chips fell on this one, especially since he knew how to reverse the process if anyone got monsterfied like Howard had from the soupsicles.)

Of course, McFist might be genuinely curious about his identity, like Debbie.

More likely, he thought he could gain something. Cut a deal with the Ninja, maybe, or figure out the secret to his longevity…. McFist seemed to have realized that the Ninja was a high school student, just like Debbie had, but he didn’t think either of them had figured out how it worked.

Whatever the reason behind McFist’s fervor, Randy was expecting a robot attack at any point, since it had been about a week since the last one and that was typically how quickly Viceroy managed to pull these guys together.

He was not really expecting to see the Nomicon flashing at him when he was about to go for lunch.

Howard didn’t miss it, either. He slammed his locker closed, locked it, and said, “It’s gravy cheese fries day, Cunningham. How can you miss it now that they finally added cheese to the gravy fries?”

“It probably won’t take long,” Randy said, but he couldn’t sound confident when he had no idea what the Nomicon wanted. “Can you grab mine?”

Howard let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. But if you take too long, I cannot guarantee they’ll still be there.”

“Howard!”

“They aren’t good cold! It’s a crime to let them get cold. I can’t let you do that.”

Randy frowned. Maybe he could just ignore the Nomicon. He wasn’t convinced he could trust Howard. Sure, ignoring the Nomicon had been bad in the past, but how important could it be now that the Sorcerer was gone?

Almost as if it knew what he was thinking, the Nomicon started flashing faster.

Randy’s resolve wavered. “Maybe I’d better—”

“Yeah, fine, whatever, Cunningham. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Randy slung his bag back over his shoulder, barely taking the time to shut his locker before running off to the safety of the washroom. This shouldn’t take long. There was nothing vitally important. It should be able to wait until he was home from school. It should—

Randy opened the Nomicon and fell.

He wound up belly-flopping into a lake. It didn’t hurt as much as actual water would’ve, but he still came to the surface sputtering. There was no shore in sight, at least not right now, so Randy decided to tread water and wait. It shouldn’t be long, and he didn’t want to wind up swimming in the wrong direction.

At some point he blinked, and when he opened his eyes again, a boat was being poled towards him.

Warily, Randy put his feet down and realized it was now shallow enough to stand. Even after all this time, he wasn’t quite used to the shifting landscape within the Nomicon. Not when it came to things like this, anyway.

After another few seconds, Randy realized that the Ninja in the boat wasn’t the doodled Ninja he was used to seeing. It was First Ninja. In the—well, not the flesh, but…the ink? Whatever. It was First Ninja. Even after the Sorcerer’s defeat, Randy rarely saw him.

Maybe this was important.

“First Ninja?” he asked cautiously as the boat drew up alongside him. “Um. There’s no way I could take a rain check on this, is there? Y’see, I’m kinda missing gravy cheese fries right now, and Howard is not kidding when he says he’ll eat mine. This isn’t really a good time.”

First Ninja cocked his head at him. “The cherry tree cannot choose the timing of the seasons but must awaken and flower, fruit and sleep, as the cycles turn.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know anything about trees. And now’s just not good for me. So if this isn’t pressing, maybe we could do this after school’s out instead of during lunch.”

In response, First Ninja secured the pole, knelt, and reached an arm out to Randy. That obviously meant rescheduling wasn’t going to happen, so Randy gave in and took it. First Ninja pulled him up without any visible strain, which either spoke to his strength or Randy’s lack of a physical body. Was he made of ink while he was in here? He never looked doodled when he looked at himself, but—

First Ninja shifted so he was sitting cross-legged on the deck, and Randy joined him. There had to be a more pressing matter than figuring out how the Nomicon worked. “So? What’s so important that I have to miss gravy cheese fries?”

“Knowledge is a greater weapon than—”

“Knowledge could wait till after lunch.”

“The Norisu Nine did not fight the Sorcerer alone,” First Ninja pointed out, “and—”

“I know, I know, watch out for the Sorceress. We’ve had this conversation. She hasn’t gone anywhere.” Randy paused. “She, uh, hasn’t gone anywhere, right?”

First Ninja shrugged. “Only what is looked for can be seen.”

“So that means you don’t know?”

A sigh. “Corruption is a poison that festers when unchecked, spreading as readily by resentment as by the hand of an enemy. If the roots are not removed, it will grow again.”

Randy stared at First Ninja, trying to figure out what he was talking about. He really needed to work on updating his speech patterns. This was hard. “But when the two halves of the Sorcerer merged, he disintegrated. Or something. He’s gone. There aren’t any more roots.”

First Ninja shook his head. “Not all that which exists can be easily seen.”

“But I know to watch for the Sorceress. What other roots are there?”

First Ninja just looked at him and waited.

Randy bit his lip. “Are you talking about loose ends? Like Booray? Because he technically knows who I am? Or because he’s using some kind of magic to enslave all those animals and he’s probably doing it again even after I wonked his first stuff?”

Now, First Ninja looked alarmed. “That which is seen cannot be unseen!” he hissed.

“I know, I know, and that which is known cannot be unknown. But after I accidentally sicced Booray on Ranginald Bagel, McFist is never gonna believe he actually knows who the Ninja is. I mean, really, if there are loose ends, then wouldn’t it be the fact that I deserve a new totally bruce sword after what I did?”

“A sword is only as strong as the Ninja who wields it.”

“So…two swords?”

First Ninja pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered something. Then, slowly, painfully, “It would be…bruce…if you would address the roots left behind with McFist and this Booray, for the Ninja—you—must be prepared to battle any evil. The known enemy is not the only enemy. A single defeat does not ensure a won war. The Ninja who is careless will be the Ninja no more, and the legacy of the Nine will be lost.”

“Okay, it’s not like I’m going to lose the Ninja Mask or anything. I mean, not again. So chill, First Ninja. I got this. You want me to ransack Booray’s place and wonk up his creepy control magic? No problemo. But McFist just…makes Viceroy build more robots whenever I wonk their cheese. I’m kinda shoobed when it comes to that. Besides, it’s easy to beat those robots. Usually.”

First Ninja stared at him for a few long seconds before shaking his head. He reached over the side of the boat, scooped up a handful of water, and tossed it into the air. The water shimmered into steam, showing a ninja fighting off a multitude of animalistic monsters. The monsters came with increasing frequency, eventually overwhelming the Ninja, and the scene dissipated entirely.

First Ninja seemed to be waiting for him to say something, so Randy settled on the most important thing. “That is the cheese. You need to teach me how to manipulate things in here, First Ninja. Is that our real lesson for today? How to control the Nomicon?”

First Ninja sighed. “Small problems do not remain so.”

Oh. That’s what he meant. The monsters were supposed to be robots. It would’ve been better this had been a lesson to control the environment in the Nomicon, but whatever. Randy was willing to pick his battles and fight for this later. It would probably take a while, and he was still hopeful that he could actually get out in time to eat lunch.

Randy affected a hurt look. “I’m not ignoring them! I beat all the robots.”

First Ninja didn’t seem remotely fooled. Maybe Plop-Plop pulled the same trick. “The Ninja who is blind to the poison cannot stop its spread. That which is not looked for cannot be seen.”

This was starting to make his head hurt. “But I do see the robots. Viceroy only did the invisible thing once.”

“The puppet only dances if its strings are pulled.”

“So…cut the strings?” It probably wasn’t the answer. It was the obvious answer, so it wouldn’t be the one First Ninja actually wanted.

Sure enough, he shook his head.

And waited.

Of course.

Randy groaned and tried to piece together what First Ninja had talked about. He seemed happy to let Randy get rid of Booray’s mind control magic, so how was that different from taking out McFist’s robots? The robots were a more common problem for him and everyone else, so weren’t they the roots First Ninja was talking about?

The water around them was starting to writhe, roiling in a crosswind that hadn’t existed three breaths ago. Their boat spun suddenly, knocking Randy over, though First Ninja merely swayed with the motions. “What the juice, First Ninja?” It had been calm a moment ago, and First Ninja had already demonstrated how easily he could manipulate the world of the Nomicon.

“Sometimes pressure,” First Ninja replied as it started pelting rain from clouds that had only just formed, “can clear the mind.”

“Or make things worse!” squawked Randy, trying to find something to hold onto so he wasn’t thrown overboard.

“The answer is within,” First Ninja pointed out as the first wave broke over them. “If looked for, it will be seen.”

“That doesn’t help!” Randy sputtered, but then another wave crashed over them and he lost his grip and was swept into the lake.

He sat up, gasping for breath as the Nomicon swung shut in his lap. He couldn’t see any feet under any of the other stalls, so the bathroom was still empty. Thankfully. He got to his feet and shoved the Nomicon back into his bag. “You could be a little clearer,” he told it, but he got no response.

He washed his hands and ran to the cafeteria. Howard was sitting and their usual table, and Randy slid in beside him, making a grab for the remainder of his gray cheese fries even as he panted for breath.

Howard reached across and plucked another one from the basket anyway, even as Randy grabbed a handful. “What’d the Nomicon have to say?”

Randy shook his head, his mouth already full of deliciousness, and waved his hands instead.

“Nothing important,” Howard surmised.

Randy swallowed. “Something about McFist. And Booray. And poison roots and strings that can’t be cut.”

“So nothing important.”

Randy shoved another handful of fries into his mouth and shrugged.

“Well, it’s not like the Sorcerer’s around to stank people, anyway. Grave Puncher 10 after school?”

Randy crammed the last of the fries into his mouth and nodded.

Before he had a chance to lick his fingers clean, the screaming started.

Howard rolled his eyes as Randy jerked to his feet. “I know, I know, Ninja-o’-clock. That still sounds stupid. You should tell McFist to cut you some slack with the Sorcerer gone. What’s he want, anyway?”

“No idea.” Randy grabbed a napkin, mostly cleaned off his fingers, and then wiped the rest on his pants. “Cover for me if I’m not back in time.”

“You owe me, Cunningham!” Howard yelled as Randy ran off.

A quick check to make sure the coast was clear and a smoke bomb later, and the Ninja was outside to face down Viceroy’s latest robot. A Robo-Spider, from the looks of it. Randy peered down at its many eyes (laser blasters, no doubt) from his perch on the roof of the school. Howard actually had a point. Maybe he should just ask what McFist wanted.

Not here, though.

Not this way.

Leading the Robo-Spider back to McFist Industries, though?

That might get his attention.

And some answers.

And maybe it would get the Nomicon off his back for a while, too, even if he wasn’t sure what First Ninja actually wanted him to do. This would be a start.

Grinning, Randy palmed a few Ninja Tripping Balls and flipped down to face his latest opponent.

(see more fics)

[ladylynse]

Someone asked me a while ago if Whirlwind encompassed the events of Reflections as well as Mirrored--in which case, Danny would already know Randy and Jake. That’s not the route I’m going, but at the time I wrote a snippet to showcase the eventual meeting where that came out, and when someone commented on it today, I thought I should share it here, too.

Setting: Danny and Jake are looking for clues, examining the crowd gathered for the (Gabriel Agreste) fashion show, unaware that Randy is there trying to keep tabs on McFist. Jake has met the Ninja, Randy knows about the Am Drag, and Danny knows both in both forms.

“Oh, hey, that’s Randy!” Danny pointed out someone in the crowd and started waving and shouting his name. When the boy spotted him and started pushing his way towards them, Danny added for Jake’s benefit, “He can help us. He’s a ninja.”

“A ninja?” The pieces fell into place. “As in the Ninja?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

Randy managed to arrive in time to hear that exchange, and he turned to Danny. “You told this shoob who I am? Just like that?”

“We all have secrets. He’s a dragon. Point is, you can help us, okay? We’re looking for—”

“No, wait, back up, you know this guy?” Jake looked at Danny incredulously. “How? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Danny blinked at him. “When were you expecting me to tell you? I didn’t know you’d met him! I didn’t even know he was in town. He’s from Norrisville. It’s not like I was expecting to run into him here.”

Randy held up one finger. “Forget all that. You’re telling me he’s a honkin’ dragon?”

Danny shrugged. “You’re a ninja. I’m a ghost. Why be so surprised that he’s a dragon?”

Jake crossed his arms. “It’s because you didn’t know dragons had human forms, isn’t it? Yo, it’s called survival, Ninja. It’s how we blend in. Something you still need to learn, by the way.”

[ladylynse]

Whirlwind: Part IV - A Secret Quartet fanfic  (FFnet | AO3)

(Part I/Part II/Part III): Jake should be used to ominous predictions by now. Randy should know better than to blindly follow McFist. Adrien should think twice before sneaking away. And Danny should’ve expected something like this when he got that phone call.  (Timeline post)

5:53 PM

Jake couldn’t find an obvious hole in security around the building where the fashion show gala whatever-it-was was being held—every entrance was guarded and all the windows were closed, assuming any actually opened in the first place—and that made his job a little harder. He could probably get in from the roof. After all, a locked door was no match for his dragon claw unless it was magically locked, and this wouldn’t be. No, his problem with that method was the fact that there were cameras everywhere. He’d already have to invent some cover story in case people realized this first attack was due to magic; he didn’t need to add a dragon sighting to the mix.

He flew for about a block and a half before dropping into an alley, changing, and doubling back. His very human eyes picked out even fewer details than he had as a dragon, so he lurked across the street for a bit so he could text Fu and Danny and fill them in. The Ninja had told him enough to worry him. The fact that this place had been targeted out of everything else that was going on in the NYC tonight?

Not a coincidence.

Definitely not a coincidence.

Jake already knew Chat Noir had done some research. He’d found their shop, after all. It wouldn’t have been hard for him to find their family, either. Or his mom’s catering business. But the fact that he knew she’d be here tonight?

Jake made sure his phone was on silent before shoving it back into his pocket. In his book, going after parents was a low blow. His mom might know about the magical world, but she didn’t have dragon powers, so she couldn’t exactly defend herself as easily as her father or her kids. Endangering her was pretty much a declaration of war in Jake’s book. Even the elves she worked with didn’t do much in terms of magic; they wouldn’t be able to protect themselves, let alone anyone else, if it came down to a fight.

Jake kinda doubted she’d drop everything and leave, given how that would look, but at the very least, he could warn her. And hide somewhere nearby in case she needed protection. Even if she didn’t want him to.

Magic was looking like his best bet to get into this place, even if Gramps wouldn’t approve.

Well.

Magic, or maybe just the truth. Or at least a half truth. It would probably look better when he tried to explain this to everyone else if magic wasn’t his first resort.

He tried to pat his hair into something his mother might think was an acceptable position before peeling off to approach one of the security guards, a stern-faced lady with greying hair pulled back into a bun. “I’m Jake Long,” he said when he’d reached her. “The caterer’s son. She asked me to come by and help move some things.”

The dubious look he received had him pulling out his student card, which was about the only ID he actually had. “See?”

“Sorry, kid. Can’t let anyone in without the proper clearance, and unless I hear from someone else, that’s going to include you.”

“But my mom—”

“I don’t make the rules, kiddo.”

Jake managed not to scowl at the nickname. “Can’t you at least radio someone? Ask for Susan Long to come down? She’ll vouch for me.” His mother would not be happy, but she’d understand.

“Look, I don’t think you understand—”

“Are you sure you understand?” interrupted Jake. “This is an important party, yo. Do you want to be the one who ruined it because you wouldn’t let in the caterer’s help?”

“Listen, kid. The caterer has all the help she needs, and all those people have the proper clearance and badges to prove it. You don’t. So beat it.”

Of all the times not to have his board with him. There was no way this lady would’ve been able to catch him if he did, even in this crowd.

He didn’t have time to go back and get Fu to brew up a potion.

He didn’t really have a lot of time to wait around and focus for any fancy magic of his own, either, not when he didn’t know how things had gone down with Danny or if this Chat Noir had set anything up—or if his potential partner had, assuming it wasn’t the Ninja who had baited the trap Jake was trying to walk right into.

So he bolted, making a beeline for the door. The security guard was right on his tail, but he was used to that, and he was as good at ducking underneath obstacles as he was at flying over them. Of course, he didn’t know if the door was locked, and he didn’t have the time to pick it, so he called up what dragon strength he could in human form and wrenched it open. This nearly sent him flying back because it hadn’t been locked, probably because there was some kind of First Aid station set up just inside the doors, and he plowed through them and jumped the barriers without missing a beat.

He had to find his mom.

He had to warn her.

The fact that the first attack had been here couldn’t have been a coincidence.

If she at least knew to keep an eye out, that there was someone around, probably someone who was watching her, she and the rest of her crew could be extra careful. Take more precautions than usual. And spend as little time hanging around as possible.

With that in mind, Jake twisted around the new security guard that had joined the chase and raced down the hall. He tried to get his bearings as he went. He’d come in some side entrance, off the beaten path but not disconnected from the main hall that he could see ahead. He got through the next set of doors and ran full tilt into another pair of security officers. A few quick breaths of flame surprised them enough to give him time to scramble to his feet, vault over the next set of barriers, and keep going.

The fire probably hadn’t been the brightest idea, in hindsight; now, they probably thought he had a lighter and maybe that he was a particularly stupid arsonist. In all likelihood, it would bring more people down on him. But he worked with what he had. Once he got to his mom and warned her, then he’d leave. Sneak out, if that was actually possible, but at the very least willingly be kicked out.

Hopefully, his mom would step in if they actually called the police.

Jake didn’t pay attention to the screams. He just kept running and dodging, zigzagging and sliding, weaving and rolling. He scattered more than a few chairs, tore down a banner or two or ten, and tried to be as inconspicuous in his use of dragon powers as possible.

There was more than a little flame in his wake, though.

Which might have set off the fire alarm.

And activated the sprinklers.

Just a little bit.

He risked a glance over his shoulder, confirmed that they were still chasing him, and then looked forward. Realizing too late he was about to careen into the table, he tried to brake, swerve, jump it, anything, but he was going too fast to control it, especially with the wet floors, and—

“Jake Long!”

Something that may have been caviar slid down the side of his face, joining the mess of unidentifiable hors d’oeuvres in his lap and, well, everywhere else.

“Just what do you think you’re doing, young man?”

He was so dead.

“Um…. Delivering a message?” He couldn’t tell her in front of everyone that he was trying to warn her. Not that there were many people left besides her staff—who knew about him, being elves—and the guards chasing him. The only reason she was standing over him, soaking wet and glaring, was because she’d recognized the magic in the fire most humans couldn’t identify. She thought this mess was his fault, that he’d ruined this show—gala—whatever it was—for nothing.

“You did all this,” Susan Long repeated slowly, her voice quiet and tight, “just to deliver a message? Jake, I’m going to be lucky if anyone hires me after this. Gabriel Agreste has his fingers in a lot of pots, even over here. What can possibly be so important that you would do this?”

Jake looked behind him, decided he had enough time, and hurriedly whispered, “There’s going to be an attack. I think. This new guy in town, Chat Noir, he knows about us. About all of us. He’s going to try to hurt you—”

“Jake.” Something in Susan’s expression had softened, if not enough to save his hide. “I appreciate your concern, but you need to learn to judge the situation at hand.” She was speaking though her teeth now, a tight apologetic smile fixed on her face as she turned to the guards who’d come up behind him. “My apologies for my son’s antics,” she said. “We will of course pay for the damage he caused.”

Jake swallowed.

He wasn’t sure his mother’s company and his family’s savings combined could cover everything he had just done. Insurance wasn’t going to help if they thought he’d done this on purpose, and he couldn’t exactly tell anyone else the truth.

How had he managed to screw up this much in such a short period of time?

XXXXXXXXX

6:24 PM

They were ruined before opening night. Oh, something might be salvageable. The new opening could be staged elsewhere tomorrow night, possibly even with an improvised, shorter show as a teaser outside tonight. But he had come here for more than just the show; that had merely been a convenient guise.

A quick test of the waters had proven fruitful, lending credence to information he hadn’t been sure was reliable.

Finding Chat Noir in the city as well was simply a delightful bonus. Without his usual fighting partner by his side, there was an even greater chance than usual that he’d finally acquire the Ring of the Black Cat.

Especially now.

He didn’t know the details of what had happened, of course. Not yet. But he could find out easily enough. Even in the midst of the terror and chaos, he could feel the anger, the hurt, the shame, the disappointment.

The others could wait for him a little bit longer.

He cradled his hands and called a butterfly to him, infusing it with magic. “Destroyed by a child’s folly and burning with righteous fire within. What better time than now to let her fury blaze freely? Fly away, my little akuma, and blacken her heart!”

The akuma flitted off immediately, and he didn’t have to wait long until the connection was made. Sensing his victim’s heart, he smiled. “Hello, Dracona,” he said. “My name is Hawk Moth. I know how it feels to be betrayed by your own blood, to be painted as the draconian villain. I’ll help you to unleash your inner fire and find fairness in flame to teach a lesson that won’t be so easily forgotten. All I ask in return is for you to gather as much information on what passes for superheroes in this city as you can—and to fetch the ring of Chat Noir if he crosses your path. Do we have a deal?”

He was used to immediate agreement. Instead, he sensed laughter. “Hawk Moth,” drawled his chosen champion, “I haven’t heard of you before. You don’t sound like the Mothman.”

He gritted his teeth, took a breath, and said, “I am far from mere fantasy. I can grant you power—”

“Let me unlock my own power,” she breathed, “and you have a deal.”

“It is always a matter of unlocking your own power,” he assured her, not adding that Nooroo’s magic truly let the transformation occur. “Do we have an agreement?”

“Yes, Hawk Moth.”

He felt the magic overtake her, transform her, but there was something…wilder about it than he was used to. As if Dracona would prove more troublesome than most. The magic seemed stronger than it should, but not in his favour—as if she really did have her own power.

The notion was ridiculous, of course. Mere humans could only obtain power as he had, with magical objects. It was never inherently within them. More likely, this one had simply unleashed an inner fury she typically kept contained.

He heard a roar, a cacophony of screams, and smiled.

Chat Noir would return, as would this Ninja, and with any luck, the power he had granted Dracona would help him gain more of his own.

XXXXXXX

6:07 PM

Randy had barely gotten back inside the venue where this fashion show gala thing was being held when the fire alarm started blaring and the sprinklers went off.

Naturally, he hid, so instead of getting swept out of the building with everyone else, he was still around to see more than a few pairs of sodden security guards escort a sullen teenager from the building. He saw the woman walking a step behind them, a string of apologies falling from her lips, and guessed that whoever she was—she was wearing a uniform, so she had to be someone—that she was responsible for the boy.

And it didn’t take a genius to guess that the poor shoob was probably the one who’d wonked this up big time.

As fire marshals cleared the last of the building, Randy slipped out to follow the kid and the other woman. Hopefully, he’d get a better idea of who was feeling worse before they split up. Not that that would stop the Sorceress if this was her work; she’d just target both of them. Heck, she might just target the entire crowd. There had to be a lot of people out there who were sure their evening had been ruined, Marci and McFist included….

“I can’t go home, Mom,” complained the boy when the guards had finally left—miraculously without calling the cops, as far as Randy could tell. He wondered how many strings had had to be pulled for that to happen. He and Howard probably wouldn’t have gotten off so easily if they’d been caught red-handed like this boy. “I’ve got—y’know—that business I’ve gotta take care of.”

The mother’s lips thinned. “Then go to the store and fetch your grandfather. I don’t want you working alone on this, Jake.”

“But you—”

“The only danger I’m in is of losing my business after what you’ve done.”

Randy winced even as the boy deflated. His mom’s tone hadn’t been angry, exactly. More quietly disapproving, dripping with disappointment and a touch of resignation. As if the damage was done, as if there wasn’t time to be angry. Or—judging by the tightness of her expression—as if it weren’t the time or place to make a scene.

��Just let me fix this—”

“Jake,” his mother snapped, “leave it. You’ve done enough. I don’t have any more strings to pull and my favours won’t mean anything if I can’t recover from this. If you are right about there being more danger than usual, then I won’t let you work alone. You know I’m not unprotected. Go. Your responsibility isn’t for me.”

“But—”

“Now.”

Jake’s burning face betrayed the shame he was feeling, but he still opened his mouth to argue. Randy bit his lip. The Sorceress would make short work of either of these two---and probably practically anyone in the crowd who was crying over a ruined dress or angry over a ruined night or—

This was going to be bad.

He could use some help.

He kinda wished the dragon had stuck around, but maybe it was best that he hadn’t; fire-breathing dragons didn’t exactly exude calm.

It would’ve been nice if cat boy had shown his face again, though, even if Randy had to admit he’d lost Chat Noir’s stick thing in the fire. He didn’t remember dropping it, but it wasn’t in his pockets anymore, so he must have. That was really saying something, considering it had been ages since he’d accidentally dumped his throwing balls anywhere or lost his sword.

Randy touched the earpiece the Am Drag had given him. He’d put it on under the mask, but it seemed to be dead—which was unfortunate because it was probably his only source of backup. Maybe the channel wasn’t actually pre-set on it. Or maybe there was no one to hear him trying to use it. He pushed the button on the side again and whispered, “Hey, uh, whoever can hear this…. It’d be honkin’ bruce if I could get a little help. I’m, ah, pretty sure I’m gonna need it.”

Silence.

He pressed the button and tried again.

“Who is this?”

Randy blinked. He hadn’t actually expected a response, at least not from someone who definitely wasn’t the Am Drag. Maybe this thing wasn’t broken. Or maybe he’d just been hitting the wrong button, or not holding it long enough, or pressing it twice, or something. “I’m the Ninja,” he answered, retreating as much as he could. The wail of sirens had cut off a few minutes ago, and the buzz of the crowd wouldn’t necessarily hide his conversation this close to the people he’d been watching. “Who’re you?”

“The…what? Forget it, where’d you get this?”

“Where’d I get what?”

“The Fenton Phone!”

“The what?”

There was grumbling on the other end of the line, coupled with a sharp increase in wind noise. Whoever it was was on the move. “The communication device you’re using to talk to me.”

Oh. “I’ve got some friends in high places,” he said evasively.

More grumbling. Then, “Where are you?”

“Um.” Randy wasn’t actually sure. He’d found the place; that didn’t mean he knew where it was. He’d planned on following McFist back to the plane when the time came. “Where the big fashion show is. The opening thing. The gala. Y’know. That place.” Even he knew that wasn’t the most helpful description in the world. “You can’t miss it,” he added before the other guy could say something. “Just look for all the firetrucks and stuff. All the lights are still flashing.”

That was definitely a groan. “Fine, I’ll find you eventually. Just stay put.”

“Are you honkin’ kidding me? I’m gonna be waaaay too busy to leave if this shakes out the way I think it will.”

“Which is how, exactly?”

As if he was going to tell some shoob on the other end of the line about the Sorceress and everything she could do. “Bad.”

“How bad?”

“Very.”

“Yeah, but how bad are we talking?”

There was a note of earnestness the other boy’s voice that gave Randy pause. He was used to dealing with the Sorcerer, but this wasn’t Norrisville. This was New York City, and he had no clue about the lay of the land. He couldn’t assume the Sorceress was going to be as clueless because chances were she’d been operating for a while, biding her time until some event like this came up as a perfect opportunity to gain power. He doubted she’d counted on a dragon being in town, much less him or some foreign cat boy, but if she attacked now? With so many people around, all ready to panic?

It would be pandemonium, and the chaos would only make her stronger. The three of them would have a tough time stopping her. And if they failed?

“Worst case? Apocalyptic. So I’d rather wonk her cheese before it gets to the point.”

“You’d rather…what? Who are you talking about? Who are we dealing with?”

“I’ll fill you in when you get here. You won’t be able to miss me. Pretty sure I’m the only Ninja in town.”

“With the secrets this place has, I wouldn’t count on it,” was the muttered response.

Randy didn’t hear a click, but the background noise of rushing wind vanished abruptly. He shut his own earpiece off—or he tried—and crept back outside. The mother and son duo had vanished, though that amounted to little given the crowd not fifty feet away. They could be anywhere, and they weren’t the Sorceress’s only potential victims.

Besides, if the Sorceress had been out for any length of time and regained any power at all, she wasn’t going to be limited to people who were emotionally compromised. She could stank anyone, maybe even him if he wasn’t careful. She’d had zero trouble stanking people when she’d caught everyone at the fake club last time, even before they’d all been really panicking. She’d even gotten Morgan, and that girl was level-headed enough to have avoided the Sorcerer so far.

Still, as far as he knew, the Sorceress actually had to have eyes on someone to stank them like that.

If she was waiting around somewhere, she was either in the middle of the crowd…or somewhere above it.

Randy chewed his lip. The Nomicon hadn’t been flashing at him, so it didn’t have anything to say, which was weird. But maybe it wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world to double check on that, assuming it would open for him. He could probably get back out of it in time to meet whoever he’d just been talking to on the earphone thingy.

He ended up sprinting back inside and hiding under a table. He yanked his mask off and pulled out the Nomicon. It fell open at his touch, and he fell into the dizzying world of spiralling symbols.

He didn’t land so much as crash into a pool of water. He broke the surface, sputtering but not hurt. He swam the few meters to shore and tried to wipe the water out of his eyes. “What the juice, Nomicon? I just want some tips on dealing with the honkin’ Sorceress. I don’t need a bath! I don’t smell that much. It’s the smoke bombs.”

Angrily yelling at the sky actually had a chance of being effective in the Nomicon, and sure enough, clouds began gathering above him. He crossed his arms and waited. After a few seconds, misty words had formed: TO CLEANSE THE SOUL, ONE MUST FIRST CLEAR THE MIND.

“How the cheese do you expect me to cleanse the mind and soul of the Sorceress? She’s the Sorceress.”

The Nomicon, being its usual unhelpful self, only slightly amended its message: TO CLEANSE THE SOUL, ONE MUST FIRST CLEAR THE MIND.

“Clear and cleanse mean the same thing!”

A second underline appeared beneath the first.

Randy scowled.

He wasn’t entirely surprised when the clouds descended to engulf him. Hacking, he sat back up in the real world—and banged his head on the table. Of course. The Nomicon swung closed and slid to the floor. Once he had his mask back on and had stuffed the Nomicon into his pocket, he poked his head out from beneath the tablecloth to make sure the coast was still clear.

It wasn’t.

The officials wouldn’t have cleared this place for re-entry yet; he should have been safe. Instead, that kid’s mom was there. Her uniform was still a mess, and she was still soaked through from the sprinklers. She and her son probably should’ve been looked over for smoke inhalation or something like that if they’d been one of the last ones out; she certainly shouldn’t have been here.

Except she was.

More to the point, she was definitely ripe for the stanking. Her fists were clenched, her tie was askew and—yeah, that was definitely a scorch mark on her red blazer. She just stood in the middle of the room, looking at the mess. The ruin.

She should be safe. The Sorceress wouldn’t have reason to look in here, not right now, not when it was supposed to be clear and she had tons of targets outside. Except….

Except he could see this woman trembling. Anger, frustration, hopelessness—he wasn’t sure why. He just knew she was vulnerable.

After what had happened with the other lady outside, the one who’d called herself the Critic— After that, he shouldn’t have been surprised when he spotted the black butterfly. The problem was, he spotted it too late. He only noticed it when it was right there, and then it landed on the woman’s necklace and melted into it. She froze, her trembling stopping, and he overheard half of a whispered conversation that made zero sense.

Well, almost zero sense.

Let me unlock my own power. Never a good request in his book. Yes, Hawk Moth. Like it wasn’t actually the Sorceress behind this after all, just some shoob obsessed with butterflies. And, worst of all, you have a deal. Because he had no idea what that deal was, just the conviction that it was going to seriously wonk things up.

And then she…changed.

Grew.

It wasn’t exactly like watching someone be stanked, but it was close. Similar enough, at any rate. Suspiciously so. The animalistic features were all too familiar, and the shimmering purple-pink scales—slashed with green on the underbelly—weren’t a surprise, either. The wings and tail, on the other hand? The horns? The ridge of spines from nape to tail? The length of those sharp talons? Yeah, those were more surprising. The intelligence behind those dark eyes wasn’t a comfort, either.

He’d been excited to meet his first real live dragon.

He was considerably less excited to meet the second.

He wondered what the chances were of the first one coming back.

He should really go back outside. Wait for that other person to show up. Try to figure out how to fight a honkin’ dragon without endangering everyone else. The Critic hadn’t been able to breathe fire—he was not going to bet this dragon couldn’t—or fly, which had at least limited her ability to do serious damage. This time….

Randy swallowed. The Nomicon hadn’t mentioned anything about this. Maybe it hadn’t known. If no other Ninja had ever encountered the like, that was definitely possible. And how many Ninjas would’ve met a dragon that hadn’t just been created by the Sorcerer?

At least he knew how to do the Ninja Hydro Hand. That would probably help. Plus the fact that he knew why this lady had gotten stanked. Or, well, butterflied. Same idea. He’d figured out that much.

The dragon beat her wings, overturning nearby chairs and effectively ruining his cover when the tablecloth went flying, but she didn’t seem to notice him. Which was good, because it didn’t seem to be taking her long to get used to her new form. It had never taken anyone who was stanked long, either. It was like a natural instinct.

There was an upside, though: because this was definitely like someone who was stanked—he knew that from the fight with the Critic—then that should mean—

There. It was hard to pick out against the dragon’s scales, but her necklace hadn’t changed like everything else. The stank—butterfly—whatever—was inside it, and all he had to do was get it and break it and things could go back to normal.

Easier said than done.

“Whatever shoob is coming to back me up better get here soon,” Randy muttered as he stole forward, keeping low to the floor as he followed in the dragon’s wake. She flew steadily and nimbly, sliding to fit through doorways he would’ve thought were too small. He’d expected her to be like a fledgling, still figuring out her wings, but this…. This was skill, like she’d studied aerodynamics her whole life or something. Like she was a pilot, not…whatever her actual job was that had her working here.

She was fast, which meant he’d have to be faster. He’d have to find a way to hold her off until someone arrived, whether it was Mr. Mysterious Voice, Chat Noir, or the Am Drag.

The dragon smashed through the outer doors with a roar, and the screaming began. Palming a few Ninja Cold Balls, Randy ran to catch up.

(Next | see more fics)

[ladylynse]

Revealed: This time, Randy doesn’t know how he can keep his secret. This time, he’s unmasked in front of everyone. (FFnet | AO3)

A continuation of this three sentence fic for @briethebee927‘s birthday. Happy birthday!

Randy struggled, even though he knew he was pinned to the tree, that his suit wouldn’t easily tear free from the knives thrown at him by Viceroy’s newest robot. He tried to focus on the Art of Disguise, but his head was still spinning from the last hit he’d taken, and he couldn’t even focus his eyes well enough to pick Howard out of the crowd, let alone do the required Ninja-ing to get out of this.

He barely felt the mask being yanked off his face, let alone the swirl of furling cloth as his suit vanished and he dropped like a stone, but he could hear people’s shouts, hear McFist’s victorious cries from where he thought he was hidden, and Randy knew it was over.

Heidi had already begun Me-Casting, her voice rising above the others—or maybe the others hushed. He wasn’t sure. All he knew for certain was that his mask was gone and the robot had stopped before spearing him, and he wasn’t going to complain about that last part.

McFist might’ve revealed him, but he couldn’t kill him here, not in front of everyone. He could try, blaming the robot, but someone would find a way to connect it back to him. Viceroy was good, but he couldn’t cover all of McFist’s tracks. If the Ninja—the former Ninja—was murdered by a robot in front of the entire school, some nerd would figure out who was behind it all.

So he might not have the mask, he might not have his secret identity, but he did have time. At least a little. If he could hear McFist celebrating, he wasn’t talking to the Sorcerer, not yet. Which meant people weren’t going to be stanked immediately, even with the general unease of the Ninja being defeated, which meant there was hope.

Didn’t it?

He tried to focus on Heidi’s voice, tried to hear the whispers beyond it. Too much sounded muffled, like he was listening to it from underwater, but Heidi’s tone sounded confused. Despite Howard’s announcement that one time that he knew the identity of the Ninja, she’d never really considered that her brother’s best friend might actually be the Ninja.

And if she was confused, maybe that meant people weren’t entirely convinced.

Maybe there was actually a way to turn this around.

Randy didn’t realize that anyone was trying to talk to him until Debbie’s face was suddenly there, blocking out the view of the robot. She hauled him to his feet when his only response to what were probably questions was a blank stare and steered him into the crowd, which parted before them. There was a general buzzing that grew louder, but nothing he could make out.

A few excited shouts from Julian and Bucky did pierce his haze, though, and as Debbie stopped, he managed to find the source of the fuss. It was the Ninja, another Ninja, which meant it was Howard, but he was just in a ski mask and a scarf, the same old costume as before, nothing that would fool them after they’d seen the real thing—

Debbie was pulling him away.

He let her.

He didn’t know how to get the mask back yet, and until he had the mask, until he had the suit….

“Focus,” Debbie’s voice hissed in his ear. She pushed him down, and his legs collapsed obediently beside what he now realized were the ruins of Principal Slimovitz’s car. “Tell it to me straight for once, Cunningham. Are you actually the Ninja?”

“Do I look like the Ninja?” he asked. He tried to smile. He wasn’t sure he managed it. Debbie growled at him either way.

“This is serious. McFist is after you, you know. Even if you aren’t the Ninja, he’ll think you are after this, and that’s got to be his robot. I don’t know why he wants the Ninja mask—”

“He doesn’t want the mask,” Randy said. “He wants the Ninja destroyed. So he can free the Sorcerer.”

“What?”

“The Sorcerer. He’s trapped. That’s why he keeps stanking people. So he can get free.” The Nomicon wouldn’t approve of him telling people, least of all Debbie, but Howard’s ruse wasn’t going to last long and Debbie apparently already knew about McFist. She was the only option he had. It’s not like the swordsmith was going to get him out of this one, and the guy who’d given him the suit in the first place was nowhere to be seen.

Not that Randy was entirely sure he’d have noticed either of them if they had been in the crowd.

“He’s the reason people turn into monsters,” added Randy when he saw Debbie’s blank look.

She swallowed. “There’s a Sorcerer. And McFist wants to free him. And the Ninja—you—have to stop that.” Nodding would hurt, but before Randy could give any sort of verbal confirmation, Debbie had started again. “But now there’s no Ninja, no real Ninja, which means the Sorcerer can get out and…and transform everyone? Into monsters? And destroy Norrisville?”

She was breathing faster than before, and Randy reached out to put a hand on her arm. He accidentally swatted her in the process, but she didn’t seem to notice—which meant she was pretty far gone. “Calm down,” he said in the most authoritative voice he could muster. Instead of sounding like he wanted it to—calm, commanding, in control—his voice cracked. “Panic won’t help. He feeds off chaos.” It was getting easier to think now. “Howard’s trying to confuse McFist. It’s worked before. We just need to get the mask back.”

Debbie stared at him.

Randy tried to remember what the Nomicon had said before he’d gotten into this mess. WORDS ARE SHARPER THAN SWORDS obviously did not mean taking the chef robot into the library; that had just led to the library’s destruction (no great loss, as far as he was concerned), but taunting the robot as per usual had ended up with him pinned to a tree.

But Debbie dealt with words all the time. So, maybe…. “Words are sharper than swords.”

“What?”

Randy repeated himself before adding, “That’s what the Nomicon said.”

“What’s the Nomicon?”

“Doesn’t matter now. Can you figure out what it means?”

“You mean beyond what it sounds like?” Debbie must have read something in his face because she sighed and continued, “It’s basically the pen is mightier than the sword, isn’t it? Better to fight with words? Because they’ll cut deeper in the end?”

“That makes no sense,” Randy said, confident of that despite how rattled he felt. “I mean, you can chop someone to bits with a sword.”

“And you can destroy them without lifting a finger with words,” Debbie shot back. Then she frowned, pursed her lips, and added, “Actually, we could do that here.”

“Ruin McFist?” Randy had serious doubts about that. McFist had more money than he knew what to do with, and he used a lot of it to his advantage.

“Not exactly. But we can destroy the truth and craft it into something else if we have to.” She still looked unhappy. “I really don’t want to do that. I’m the editor of the NHGTTWDPC because I like to uphold the truth, uncover it, but…. This might be the only way to turn things around and…and keep that Sorcerer from getting free.”

Randy gaped at her. “And you know how to do that?” Maybe the Nomicon wouldn’t be mad he’d told her. Not if it had given him a clue she’d been able to figure out so easily. After all, if they got through this without the Sorcerer escaping, he could just mind wipe her if he had to.

Although, if she didn’t expose him, he actually wouldn’t mind another ally….

“Howard’s pretending to be the Ninja, isn’t he? Well, then we start there. He won’t be the only one. And neither will you.”

She had her phone out and was dialing a number. Randy frowned. “Wait, who are you—?”

Debbie, with the phone already to her ear, held up one finger. “Hey, Theresa? I need a favour. Like, right now.”

Randy swallowed. The Nomicon might let him get away with telling one more person, but two? It would never— “You can’t tell her anything!”

“You’ll need a ski mask,” Debbie was saying, ignoring him completely, “or something else to cover your face. Black or at least dark. Here’s what we’ve gotta do.”

XXXXXXX

Debbie marched back and forth on the stage in front of the assembled students. Randy sat off the side, trying not to be the centre of attention or to look too obviously like the defeated Ninja he was. He wasn’t sure what Debbie and Theresa had said to convince the half dozen students to leave behind the unfolding scene with the supposed Ninja, and he didn’t know where every kid had gotten dark clothes on such short notice (Julian excepted), but he hoped this would work. Whatever it was.

All he knew was that Theresa had already gone out there wearing her war paint and a scarf she’d found…somewhere. Whenever Howard got ‘exposed’, she was supposed to step up and switch him off. She was going to break out some tumbling moves and baton tricks to confuse McFist, and she was armed with a few Frisbees as Ninja Ring stand-ins when the time came. He’d debated going and begging S. Ward Smith for some real weapons but figured balloons wouldn’t be any better, and the less Debbie knew about everything else, the better.

Right?

“Foam daggers,” Debbie said, handing a box to Rachel to pass out. “Collapsible swords. All the tennis balls I could find in the gym. Randy did a great job covering for the Ninja, guys, but we’ve gotta step it up.”

Bash snorted. “Cunningham completely wonked up when he tried to cover for the Ninja. That’s why we’ve gotta save him!”

No one questioned that someone was after the Ninja now. Debbie hadn’t said it was McFist, of course, or breathed a word about the Sorcerer, but no one needed to see the villain to believe there was one. Not once the Robo-Chef had stopped dead upon unmasking him, having seemingly achieved its purpose—or at least one of them.

“He lasted longer than some of us would have,” Debbie pointed out without missing a beat, “and it might’ve been enough to fool the Ninja’s enemies. Until the real Ninja gets back from his vacay, we’ve gotta save Norrisville ourselves.”

Randy had to hand it to her. It wasn’t a completely terrible lie, and she’d come up with it pretty fast.

“What the juice was the Ninja thinking to ask him to pretend to be the Ninja?” continued Bash, pointing in Randy’s direction. “He’s a complete shoob, and he shoobed this up! I would’ve been way better!”

Randy’s face burned but he kept his mouth shut. Arguing wasn’t going to get him anywhere, and arguing with Bash might end painfully for him. Besides, keeping the tattered remains of his secret intact demanded he not argue. And that he get to Howard as soon as possible to fill him in.

He should probably be shloomping on this, but there wasn’t time. The damage had been done. They needed to do damage control now or there really wouldn’t be a Ninja in Norrisville.

“I’m gonna go check on Howard,” Randy announced, getting to his feet. Debbie didn’t even acknowledge him, instead telling Bash to hide a collapsible sword in his McHoodie—just with the hood on the inside, turned in instead of out, so that it would appear as if he were pulling the sword from nowhere when he retrieved it.

Randy had to hand it to her.

She was good.

She was also good at convincing the others that their eyes had been playing tricks on him, that he wasn’t the real Ninja. And that…hurt, a bit, because he was the real Ninja, the Nomicon said so—he wasn’t going to let it take that back—but if he had to play fake Ninja to preserve the real Ninja, then so be it.

It was a confusing concept, but if it worked, he wasn’t going to argue.

Besides, he really was better off back outside. If this actually worked and McFist threw the mask away, thinking it worthless, then he had to be there to pick it up again. And then the real Ninja could show up. Again. Just for the first time, as far as everyone else was concerned.

And if this didn’t work….

It has to work.

There wasn’t another plan this time.

XXXXXXXX

Viceroy winced as McFist let out another holler entirely too close to his ear. “I wouldn’t contact the Sorcerer yet, sir,” he said carefully, not taking his eyes from the screen.

“But I got him, Viceroy! I defeated the Ninja! Me!”

It was not the time to point out that he had built the Robo-Chef, nor that they’d merely unmasked the Ninja rather than ensured his defeat—especially not when he was about to give McFist some bad news. “Yes, sir. But I’m not sure if we’ve unmasked the right Ninja.”

“Of course it’s the right Ninja! Why wouldn’t it be the right Ninja? Er—what do you mean right Ninja?”

Viceroy pointed to the feed on the screen. The boy—Randy Cunningham, if he remembered correctly—had been helped to his feet by another one of the students. Beyond the crowd the two disappeared into, the multiple hidden cameras in the Robo-Chef clearly showed another Ninja striding onto the scene to take the place of the fallen Ninja.

“Why is there more than one Ninja, Viceroy? There isn’t supposed to be more than one Ninja!”

“I know, sir.” Viceroy frowned as the new Ninja began making terrible puns. “The first Ninja was more convincing than this one, but without—”

“Reactivate the Robo-Chef!” McFist yelled. “I have to defeat the Ninja!”

And because that robot had beaten the last Ninja, he assumed it would make short work of this one, too. Viceroy sighed but couldn’t argue McFist’s logic right now. Their position was precarious as it was, their catering truck easily visible from the school grounds and no doubt within earshot. One of these days, someone would realize how often they were on the scene of an attack.

But until then, they’d make do. And if McFist truly did defeat the Ninja before that and freed the Sorcerer, well, he’d cross that bridge when it came to it.

Although, hopefully, he’d be able to take all the vacation time he’d earned first.

XXXXXXXX

Theresa’s scarf caught on the branches of the bush she was crouching behind, and she reached up to adjust it. She wasn’t sure if Debbie was brilliant or crazy. Le Beret was one thing, but the Ninja? She’d never seriously considered that the Ninja might be one of her classmates, not when he’d been around for over 800 years. She’d laughed whenever Debbie had brought up the very idea. But now….

“Randy’s covering for the Ninja, but he shoobed it up and now we’ve gotta save his butt.” Debbie handed her a backpack filled with Frisbees. “These are your Ninja rings.”

Theresa looked at Randy, who shuffled his feet and didn’t meet her eyes. “Seriously? Where’d you get the sword and everything?”

“Drama department,” Debbie replied without missing a beat. “We’re going to round up a few other kids and hand out the rest of the stuff, but we need someone to cover Howard ASAP because I can’t see him lasting long.”

“And you think I’ll last longer?” She slipped on the backpack, knowing it wasn’t ideal but that she’d need both her arms for this to work—even if this was crazy.

“I think you can move faster, which you’ll need if the attacks begin again.”

“Attacks?” Even when Debbie had first asked her to do this, she hadn’t thought—

“You don’t have to do this,” Randy said, finally looking at her. “I don’t want people getting hurt because of me.”

She tried not to let her heart swell at his words, at the concern in his voice. He’d said people, not you, and she couldn’t pretend it meant the same thing. “I know.” She had to force the next words past her lips. “But I want to do this. For you. And the real Ninja.”

Randy winced, but Debbie had already started talking again, explaining her plan in more detail, and Theresa didn’t have time to wonder about Randy’s reaction. “You’ll have to step up when it looks like Howard’s about to falter. We need him confused.”

“Him? Isn’t it a robot?”

Debbie pursed her lips. “Someone had to build it.”

The truth was, Theresa had never thought about that, either. Monsters and robots…. The Ninja always stopped them. She hadn’t questioned it, hadn’t considered that the robot attacks were relatively new in the grand scheme of things.

Debbie was right, of course. The Ninja didn’t just defend the citizens of Norrisville; he defended himself. The monsters terrorized indiscriminately, but the robots always targeted the Ninja once their attacks had drawn him out. There had to be a human mind behind their design. She had no idea who would try to destroy the Norrisville Ninja, but she doubted it was simply an inquiring mind like Debbie’s. This latest robot had stopped short of a fatal attack, but there had been too many close calls to naïvely assume that wouldn’t have been an acceptable outcome.

Which meant someone in Norrisville saw nothing wrong with destroying Norrisville’s defence against monsters, destroying a beloved town hero, and was highly unlikely to pause for very long when she stepped into the fray.

But she’d agreed to do this.

For Norrisville.

For the Ninja.

For Randy.

He might have been the first to fill in for the Ninja, but he was surely the reason Howard had had a costume stored in his locker. They had both known the Ninja’s plan. They’d always proclaimed to be the Ninja’s number one fans, but she’d never thought much of that, either. But perhaps Howard’s old claim of knowing who the Ninja really was hadn’t been as false as he’d allowed it to seem.

Howard seemed to be doing a decent job of evading the robot that was now chasing him, but it mostly involved him ducking to avoid knives, doubling back because he was still faster than it was, and yelling things over his shoulder. But he was tiring, getting slower, and he’d barely started the actual chase; his appearance itself had been enough to confuse it, to confuse the human behind the robot, but now that the initial shock had worn off….

“I have to get out there,” Theresa realized. If she waited, Howard might make a mistake. And, despite that this was his choice, she’d feel responsible.

She swallowed, trying to gather her courage, and then she stood.

For now, she was a Ninja of Norrisville, and she had to fight accordingly.

XXXXXXXX

Howard clutched at the stitch in his side, gasping and trying to ignore the coppery taste in his mouth, and wondered if his friendship with Randy was worth this pain.

This wasn’t the first time he’d had to save Cunningham’s butt, but he really hoped it was the last.

He dove for a tree, ended up sliding more than rolling, and heard the thunk of a knife embedding itself into the wood above his head.

Maybe it would just be easier to let this robot unmask him, too. Lying here was really appealing right now, giving him a chance to catch his breath even if he still hurt all over, and—

“Ninja Ring! Ninja Ring! Ninja Ring!”

What the juice?

Howard rolled over when he heard the robot moving away from him. Some of the crowd had dispersed, but most were still there, blithely unaware that they were in real danger because the Ninja always saved them. Seeing the Ninja unmasked should have scared them but obviously didn’t—much—because he’d been fast on his feet. (Cunningham definitely owed him for that.)

But if Randy didn’t have his suit, and he was already on the ground, who—?

A blur of purple streaked past, tumbling and grabbing— That was a baton.

That was Theresa.

What the cheese did Fowler think she was doing?

“Get up, Ninja!” she yelled as she dodged another volley of knives. “Unless you like the taste of dirt!”

Wow, she definitely needed some new lines. He got to his feet and made a show of brushing himself off. “You’re late, Ninja!” he called back, successfully distracting the Robo-Chef. It hesitated, its head swivelling back and forth between them, not sure which of them to attack. Just as well. The more time they bought, the better. The Robo-Chef had taken Randy’s mask and stored it a compartment in its chest, probably as a trophy of some sort, or proof, or whatever McFist and the Sorcerer needed, and the only way they were going to get it back would be beating this thing themselves.

Granted, if he could just get close enough to touch it without getting stabbed, it might break on its own.

His magic touch was useful like that.

“I’m not late! You’re just early.” She was trying to sound brave, but he could hear the quaver in her voice. He’d expected to do this; he doubted she ever had.

Didn’t explain why she was doing it now, but he couldn’t exactly ask that in front of everyone.

He’d already opened his mouth to say something else when he realized he was hearing a high-pitched whine coming from the robot. “Duck!” he yelled instead, hitting the dirt again. He rolled on instinct, not stopping to see if Theresa had paid attention to him.

His (brief) stint working with Viceroy had given him a better idea of how the mad scientist worked. Self-learning AI wasn’t out of the question. Vanishing robots weren’t out of the question. He’d be stupid to think Viceroy couldn’t build something that could alter its internal mechanics as easily as its exterior to adapt in a fight.

So, really, getting more knives thrown at him?

Par for the course for today.

“We just need to keep it busy!” he heard Theresa yell. “The others’ll be out soon!”

Others?

That made it sound like this was planned.

But Cunningham didn’t do plans.

That was more for people like—

Oh, that shoob’s cheese was so wonked if Kang had finally put the pieces together. Unless this was some weird ploy on her part to draw out the ‘real Ninja’. Except that assumed she thought Cunningham was another fake Ninja. That didn’t—

Cold hands grabbed him.

Metal.

Hard enough to bruise.

Theresa was screaming.

He didn’t have a free hand to reach the robot, to touch it and make it fall apart. His hands were pinned to his sides. It lifted him up, analyzing him. He heard more people yelling. Saw the blade spring up from the robot’s shoulders.

Howard closed his eyes.

XXXXXXXX

“Everyone clear on the plan?” Debbie waited for their nods before continuing. “Then we’re a go. Bash, come around from the gym. Bucky and Pradeep, cut through the band room. Rachel, head straight out the front doors. Julian, west entrance. Jacques, take the east. For the Ninja!”

“For the Ninja!” they echoed, raising their fists as she had.

They scattered, and she hoped this would work. She didn’t have a backup plan, and casting doubt felt like the only thing she could do. Half the kids who’d shown up had attended Ninja Camp at one point, but someone like Mikey was better off figuring out how to hack into whatever was controlling the robot—there had to be some kind of wireless signal, right?—and disrupting things without actually going out and fighting, so she’d sent him and a few of the others to the computer lab to figure that out.

If they actually managed to trace this back to McFist, well, she’d at least get the scoop before Heidi. If they could find some proof for her, she might be able to publish it. It would be beyond risky, but she wanted to uncover the truth.

Some truths, though, made less sense than others.

Why Randy?

What was the Nomicon?

And what the cheese was all this about a Sorcerer?

Words are sharper than swords. Randy had said that that was important, treated it like it was some kind of clue. But it sounded more like a message for her than for him. If everyone claimed to be the Ninja, it would cast doubt on Randy being the real Ninja. It would help get him out of this scrape, hopefully. Something similar had worked once before; it had to work again. But beyond that….

“I’ll destroy him if I write about this,” she said softly. “If I tell the truth.” People would happily believe Randy was just playing at being the Ninja, considering the Ninja’s legendary reputation, but to hear that, yes, a mere teenager was protecting them? From what could very well be evil incarnate? It wouldn’t go over well. And if this Sorcerer would be freed when the Ninja was destroyed—either by McFist’s robots or her words—then Norrisville would probably become a ruin, too, if the monsters were any indication.

So maybe it wasn’t a clue for Randy after all.

Maybe the words were a warning for her.

If she wasn’t careful, she could dig too deep, cut too much, and destroy the safety that ignorance granted them all.

Debbie swallowed and pushed those thoughts aside. She could deal with the implications later—including the scary ones, like how the heck this Nomicon would know to leave a message for her. Right now, she needed to get outside and make sure her plan was actually going to work instead of falling apart before she could do anything.

XXXXXX

Randy burst outside in time to see the Robo-Chef grab his best friend. He saw the panic in Howard’s eyes, saw his feet flailing as he struggled in vain. Theresa was there, running towards the robot. Her scarf had slipped off her face, revealing her identity to all who hadn’t guessed it, and—

There was no time to find some kind of weapon. Randy took off running, too, yelling wordlessly in a vain attempt to get the robot’s attention. His head pounded with each footstep, but he pushed forward, barrelling towards Howard.

He wasn’t thinking when he took the flying leap toward the robot.

By the time he realized that probably wasn’t the smartest idea, he was scrabbling for purchase on the tiny ridges between the metal plating. Theresa arrived a moment later, breaking her baton in an attempt to get the Robo-Chef’s attention when she whacked at the knife that was attached at its shoulder. It was only when he heard a lot of other yelling and cheering from the still-gathered crowd that he realized the reinforcements had arrived. The other Ninjas.

The robot turned to look, not dropping Howard, who had cracked open an eye at some point. The kids in their makeshift ninja suits were whooping and hollering, grabbing everyone’s attention. The barrage of tennis balls began a moment later, and Randy couldn’t bring himself to care that he was getting pummelled, too. There was something particularly satisfying about seeing them producing daggers and swords (seemingly) from thin air and waving them around, in the true spirit of the Ninja.

The Robo-Chef easily knocked Theresa aside and ignored him, raising one hand to unmask Howard, who plastered a grin on his face. “We’re all the Ninja,” he said. As the others converged on them, he thrust his fist into the air and yelled, “I’m the Ninja!”

Theresa scrambled to her feet and proclaimed the same, and her cry was echoed by the other kids, and then picked up by those in the crowd.

Just like at the Battle of the Bands.

Randy was too busy grinning to join in.

He was also too busy to see Howard put his hand firmly on the Robo-Chef’s torso until it collapsed to pieces beneath him.

“Ow!” He sucked the blood from his finger, even though he knew the cut was shallow and that he was lucky that’s all that he’d gotten considering how many knives had been inside this thing.

“Just track down the real Ninja, will ya, Cunningham?” Howard nodded to the mask that lay in the wreckage. Randy quickly pocketed it and got to his feet. The rest of the kids were beginning to swarm the lawn where the battle had taken place, and it was easy enough to slip away—even without a smoke bomb for a distraction.

He’d just crouched behind his favourite set of Ninja-o’-Clock bushes when he heard, “You gonna fill me in at some point, Cunningham?”

Debbie.

He turned to see her and smiled uncertainly. She was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, looking out at the joyful chaos on the lawn instead of at him. “You owe me since this worked,” she added, finally glancing at him.

“Uh…I plead the fifth?”

She snorted. “Off the record, Cunningham. I’m not stupid. I know the truth now, and I can help you. Like Howard apparently does, except better.”

“Uh—”

“Just think about it, Ninja.” She turned back to the crowd outside. “Someone will need to help you keep off McFist’s radar, and there’s power in words.” She stepped away and walked a few steps before turning back with a grin. “They’re sharper than swords, after all.”

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[ladylynse]

A few of you wanted another Randy Cunningham:9th Grade Ninja fic, right? Well....

Downfall: [FF | AO3] It was all happening so fast. Theresa didn’t want to leave Randy, didn’t know if it was already too late, but how was she supposed to find him now? This time, even the Ninja seemed to have his hands full. (AU or post-S2)

Theresa dove for the bleachers. They wouldn’t offer much cover, but any reprieve was better than none. Debbie followed her into her hiding spot, and she asked, “Have you seen Randy?”

Debbie shook her head. “He’ll be with Howard. He always is. Hiding somewhere, like everyone else.”

Like almost everyone else.

The unlucky ones had been turned into monsters.

And she hadn’t seen Randy since the attack had begun, even though they’d both been in English together. She’d lost him in the rush of the hallway as students had fled, running in every direction despite Miss Wickwhacker’s best efforts to keep them orderly. Theresa’s head still throbbed in time to phantom whistles.

A shriek sounded from the direction of the band room, and Debbie winced. “That sounded like Flute Girl.”

Theresa took a deep breath, trying to slow her breathing and get her racing pulse under control. Debbie looked rattled, but she was certainly more composed, and Theresa wouldn’t be any help to her if she went to pieces right now. “There’s got to be something we can do.”

For once, Debbie looked reluctant to charge headlong into something Ninja-related. “I don’t know if there is besides what we’re doing now.”

That was a lie. It had to be. Or at least an evasion. What they were doing now was running, fleeing like mice from a cat. Or rather, mice from a large number of cats, as well as any number of monsters in vaguely animalistic shapes. Worse still, the Ninja wasn’t having any luck returning the students to normal. The last time Theresa had seen him, he’d been using his scarf to get away from a giant armadillo.

Bucky hadn’t been so lucky.

She’d seen him struggle to escape the armadillo’s claws before choking, shuddering, and transforming himself.

When his blank eyes had turned on her, she’d screeched and ran. If Pradeep hadn’t tried to hold him off….

“There’s so many of them,” she whispered. She couldn’t remember so many transformations happening at once before. A few robots, maybe. A dance troupe or a band or a team—rare, but not unheard of. But every student who got caught by the monsters?

It spread like a contagion, and the only one who seemed immune was the Ninja. If this wasn’t stopped, the entire town—

“I know. That’s why I’m not out trying to get the scoop.” For the first time, Debbie sounded defeated, and when Theresa looked back at her friend, Debbie’s expression was grim. “I’ve put my life on the line for a story before. The Ninja saved me then, but I don’t think he’d be able to do that now. This is out of control.”

More screams. Someone’s hiding spot had been discovered, Theresa guessed, and they hadn’t been alone.

“You don’t think the Ninja can beat this,” Theresa realized.

“I wouldn’t be running if I did.”

“But he’s been around for over eight hundred years! He’s bound to have more tricks up his sleeve than we know about.”

Debbie was shaking her head. “I don’t think he does. Theresa, I’ve been investigating him for almost two years. He’s not some ancient, all-powerful being. He’s someone like us, just with a fancy suit and some powers. I doubt he even has five years of experience, let alone five hundred.”

“But—”

“He’s more likely one of our classmates than the spirit of some ancient ninja. And this time, he’s in over his head.”

Theresa swallowed. For all that Debbie had talked about finding out the Ninja’s identity at length, she’d never put it quite like that before. She’d never doubted him, even though she had tried to convince Theresa he was someone who attended Norrisville High. And now….

“Theresa, look at me.” Debbie looked like she’d been crying. “We might not make it out of this one. You have to know that. You can’t put all your faith in the Ninja, not this time. He’s overwhelmed. It’s all he can do not to get caught himself. This is too much for anyone to fight alone.”

What changed this time? Debbie wouldn’t know the answer, though. Her guesses weren’t likely going to be any better than Theresa’s. The day had started off ordinarily enough. Sure, there had been some exchange student that most of the boys had fawned over again, but if anything, Randy had looked alarmed when he’d seen her, not lovesick. And he’d fallen asleep over his textbook in math again, unlike some of the other boys who had actually started to compose poetry for the new girl. Theresa had been naïve enough to believe that was a good thing; Randy wasn’t going to ogle the new kid if he already had eyes for someone else.

Hopefully her.

“Then we have to help him,” Theresa said. The Ninja had been kind enough to bring her flowers from Randy. If he was willing to do that for him, for them, then she could at least try to do something for him in return.

Besides, even if Debbie had scoffed at her, Theresa still thought the Ninja might be willing to arrange an ‘accidental’ meeting between her and Randy so she could try to thank him properly for the flowers without Howard making some remark and ruining her opportunity.

“It’s too dangerous! We can’t—”

The far doors of the gymnasium burst off their hinges. Debbie pulled Theresa down, but she could still see the giant spider scuttling away from the wreckage—poor Julian—and the pair of rhinos shaking splinters from their horns.

And she could still see the Ninja wrapped tightly in the tentacles of an octopus, which seemed to stand quite easily on its remaining two arms.

As the dust began to settle, Theresa caught sight of a humanoid figure in dark clothing striding behind. A raised hand swirled with purplish-pink power before lashing out, growing into a giant hand and snatching the Ninja along with the octopus.

It began to squeeze.

Debbie caught Theresa’s attention, pointed at the door that led outside, and put a finger to her lips. Theresa shook her head—they couldn’t go, not right now—but Debbie nodded and beckoned to her. The urgency was written all over her face. If they didn’t get out of here now, they might not make it out of here.

But if they left the Ninja, they wouldn’t be any further ahead. “We can’t,” Theresa whispered, trying her best to ignore Debbie’s glare. She pulled her hand free from Debbie’s grip and gestured back to the scene unfolding in front of them. The octopus was free now, standing below the suspended Ninja, no doubt to recapture him if something went wrong.

They had to find a way to make something go wrong before it was too late.

“You’re helpless, Ninja,” the figure—the woman, the Sorceress—hissed, her voice carrying despite the occasional screams from other sections of the school as the monsters—her monsters—continued their scavenger hunt. “Your sword master is trapped, your friends are mine, and your guardian has abandoned you. But I can be a forgiving woman, even considering what you’ve done to me and my partner in the past. Renounce yourself as the Ninja and I’ll let you live.”

They had to do something. Theresa started to get up, but Debbie caught her arm and pointed. The Ninja’s suit had turned red and began burning through the magic that had been holding him in place. A fireball burst outwards, and—

Another phantom hand swatted it away, wisps of magic reforming its damaged parts. “You grow weaker,” taunted the Sorceress and she turned to face the Ninja, who had escaped capture by the octopus and instead landed well clear of all the Sorceress’s minions.

“Your judgement’s wonk,” the Ninja retorted. His hand reached into his pocket, pulling out a variety of Ninja Balls. In quick succession, the spider’s legs were frozen in place, the octopus was seizing under a storm of electrical sparks, and the number of bees in the twin swarms around the rhinoceroses only barely outstripped the tripping balls at their feet.

Ninja Rings flew towards the Sorceress, but she deflected those with nothing more than the wave of her hand. And then she opened her mouth and screamed. The bleachers above them rattled and creaked as the bees dropped from the air and the ice around the spider’s legs shattered.  “I know all your tricks, Ninja,” snarled the Sorceress, “but you don’t know all of mine.”

The Ninja responded with a watery punch (broken as it dissipated the Sorceress’s conjured hand) and a hasty but strategic retreat.

He didn’t see the Sorceress form the second hand and reach for him.

“No!” Theresa screamed, running from her hiding spot before Debbie could stop her. She had to act as a distraction, had to give the Ninja enough time to regroup and figure this out like she knew he could. Like he always had before.

The hand twisted and caught her in a flash. She screamed as the giant fingers tightened, trying to crush the life from her. She took a stilted breath as the Ninja faltered, but the pressure continued, not letting her lungs expand enough to fill properly. Her head began to spin, throbbing in time to her heartbeat.

“Theresa?” The Ninja gaped at her. “What are you doing?”

She couldn’t find the breath to explain.

She’d just wanted to be a distraction.

She’d just wanted to help.

Instead, the Sorceress used the Ninja’s sudden distraction to her advantage, and magic curled around his suit again. He struggled, his suit flashing to red as he gathered the power for another fireball.

Before he could release it or work his arms free, the Sorceress was there, her searching fingers smoking as they reached beneath the Ninja’s mask to pull it off.

There was a bright red glow, but instead of another fireball, the Ninja’s suit furled itself away.

Theresa stared with wide eyes at Randy, who had collapsed to the floor like a rag doll.

Very much human.

Very much helpless.

And very much no longer the Ninja.

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[ladylynse]

Hey, you doing more of those writing prompts? If so, "Ghosts, demons, evil Sorcerers... what's next? Elemental spirits? Every single mythical creature of human legends? Gods and deities?" SuperPhantomRC9GN crossover thing (throwing a bit of a challenge here, so feel free to drop one of the trio if you can't come up with something)

To be honest, @azthedragon, I’m a little surprised you wanted Supernatural in there when you aren’t overly familiar with it, but here you go! Enjoy.

Lessons:[FF | AO3] Frankly, Dean had his doubts that Phantom and the Ninja were ever going to take this seriously.

“Ghosts, demons, evil Sorcerers…. What’s next? Elementalspirits? Every single mythical creature of human legend? Gods and deities?”

Dean glared at the kid in the ninja costume. He and hisghost friend were sitting on Sam’s bed in the motel room while Dean sat on hisown bed, surrounded by weaponry, and Sam was at the table with the laptop andthe journal. “You laugh, but gods are even bigger di—”

“Dean!”

Dean rolled his eyes at Sam’s admonishment. These guys wereteenagers. A little foul language wasn’t going to scar them for life. And theyhad superpowers, or near enough inDean’s book. A ninja. A ghost. Both of whom he’d shot at before getting theirstories straight, but Dean was past the point of hunting something just becauseit could be considered a monster. Not all of them were evil. The ninja kidmight not be a monster, but the ghost definitely fell firmly into thatcategory. And if he started icing people, well, Dean would pay him a visit atthat point. Until then, he could keep doing what he was doing, as far as Deanwas concerned.

From the sounds of it, Phantom and the Ninja—the two stillrefused to give actual names; it was annoying as hell—had worked togetherbefore. Fine. Dean didn’t ask questions about that kind of thing. He and Samhad come to Norrisville on a demon hunt, found a little more than they’dbargained for, and hadn’t quibbled when the so-called town hero had offered tofill them in.

(In all fairness, Dean had been pointing a gun at the Ninja’shead at the time, but considering the kid had pulled a Houdini with thosestinking smoke bombs before, Dean had known he’d be able to do it again, evenwith Sam flanking him.)

Dean hadn’t really thought they needed backup that wasn’tCas, but the Ninja had insisted on calling in a friend—“It’ll be fine; it’s theweekend, so it’ll be easy for him to get away.”—and Castiel hadn’t been pickingup his damn phone anyway. Sometimes, Dean wondered if the angel pretendedignorance for convenience’s sake.

“Y’know, in all fairness, I kinda have dealt with elemental spirits before,” Phantom mused. “IfFrostbite doesn’t count, Vortex or Undergrowth probably does. I mean, they’renot dead humans like Desiree or Ember, so I guess you could call them elementalspirits. They can control certain elements, anyway. I just mostly ended updealing with the bad guys the same way as I do every other ghost.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of the Tengu.”

“I thought you said the Tengu was a bird demon.”

“Well, if it is, then it’s a different kind of demon thanwhatever this was.”

“And you’re thinking the fireball thing.”

“Yeah, and—”

“But you know the Tengu’s real.”

“Sure, but these shoobs don’t. I mean…not necessarily. And—”

“Can we get back to the point?” Dean snapped. “This isn’t africkin’ joke. People’s lives are on the line.”

“Dean’s right.” Sam’s tone was all gentle and placatingdespite the glare he was sending in Dean’s direction. “We’re not exaggerating.You deal with ghosts all the time,” he said with a nod to Phantom, “and you—”here he looked at the Ninja “—apparently have been dealing with a warlock—sorry,sorcerer—for years.”

“Centuries,” corrected the Ninja, as if Dean was really goingto believe he’d been around that long. He’d metwitches and warlocks that were centuries-old and had had enough dealings withangels and demons to know the type. This kid? Definitely not even in histwenties.

Sam was not dissuaded. “The point is, now you’ve run intodemonic possession. We told you how to deal with that—”

“I have already forgotten that ritual,” interrupted theNinja. “I mean, what was that, Greek?”

“I think it was Latin,” Phantom said with a shrug. “I dunno.I was going to ask Sam about it when I get back. She probably knows. I’m prettysure I’ve seen her doodling that symbol.”

“The point—”

“Point is, you know other monsters are real,” Dean cut in. “Soit would save guys like us—” he gestured to himself and Sam “—a helluva lot oftrouble if you dealt with them when they cropped up on your home turf.”

Phantom caught Dean’s look and crossed his arms. He still refusedto say where he was from. Also annoying as hell. But that feeling hadn’t reallygone away for this entire hunt.

“Demonic possession doesn’t seem to be too different from ghosts,” allowed Phantom at last as he uncrossedhis arms and leaned back on the bed. “Just write out that stuff for me againand I’m sure I can figure it out if I need to.”

“Little more different than when someone’s stanked,” agreedthe Ninja, “but I can wing it, and it’ll look super bruce when I do. Howardwill totally think I’ve wonked his cheese. It’ll be great. You guys cool if Idon’t tell him I got the info from you?”

If Dean still had even a fleeting thought that God actuallycared, he might pray for strength. He and Sam had never been that idiotic. Reckless, sure, until their cockinessnearly got someone killed, and that was gone in both of them by twelve even withtrying to keep Sammy away from the worst of it. But these two….

Frankly, having seen them in a fight, Dean was pretty surethey’d be dead if they didn’t have superpowers. Or, in Phantom’s case, if he weren’talready dead. The Ninja’s attacks were sloppy, often leaving himself open, andhe usually forgot to watch his back. Not to mention the fact that he announced each attack. Phantom was morewasteful in his actions, expending too much energy at once and not caring if hegot hit as long as he managed to get a hit in, too. He didn’t have much of asense of timing; his typical strategy seemed to be to pour pure power into anattack and hit something for all he was worth.

Dean, being very human and not wanting to die (again) orwatch Sam die (again), had questioned their partnership often over the last twodays. Still, he had to admit that watching Phantom and the Ninja work togetherto create the Devil’s Trap—combining ice and fire powers—had been a satisfying,especially after that lowlife demon had managed to crack the concrete floor Samhad spray-painted the first one on earlier. But that demon was Crowley’sproblem now, and Crowley was not going to be pleased to hear that some uppitycrossroads demon thought he could garner favour by playing fast-and-loose withthe rules.

Crowley might take every loophole for the opportunity itwas, but he didn’t break the rules of his contracts. Broken contracts meant thesouls were no longer bound and no longer destined for a date in hell in ten yearsor whatever the agreed upon time period was. Apparently, the demon had thoughthe could get around that with a separate verbal agreement, but that sort ofthing didn’t hold up. Something about double dealing. Or maybe not sealing thedeals appropriately. Frankly, Dean hadn’t cared. He’d just sent the sonnovabitch back to hell where he belonged.

It would’ve been an easier task if all the other,non-demonic possessions hadn’t been happening at the same time. What the Ninjahad called stanking and the Phantom had not-so-helpfully explained as just astrong form of magical possession. But the Ninja didn’t seem to think Sam andDean would actually be able to help him get rid of the warlock, no matter what theysaid, so it had been Sam’s bright idea to at least educate these guys so they’dknow what to do if anything else showed up.

Dean was already regretting agreeing to this.

“Look, just listen, okay? We’ll run you through the basics.Don’t worry about trying to memorize it all right now—”

“Definitely wasn’t going to happen anyway,” said the Ninja,to which Phantom nodded his agreement.

“—because you can contact us if you run into something andneed a refresher or some backup.” Sam got up from the table and handed each kida business card. “Our numbers are on the back. The front, that’s a friend ofours, Jodi Mills. She’s the Sheriff in Sioux Falls. South Dakota,” he added atthe blank looks on their faces. “If you can’t reach us, phone her. She’ll putyou in touch with someone who can help.”

Both kids pocketed the card, though Dean didn’t see where. “Anyway.Enough chitchat. On to business. First up: vampires. It’s pretty straightforward. You just—”

“Drive a wooden stake through their heart,” said Phantom. “Everyoneknows that.”

“That’s actually a popular misconception,” corrected Sam. “Truthis, you—”

“Garlic,” said the Ninja immediately. “Lots of it. You cangarlic them to death.”

Dean heaved a sigh and met Sam’s eyes, knowing hisexpression conveyed exactly what he wanted to know. Do we have to do this? But he knew Sam’s answering expression well.That was a yes. Well, morespecifically, Dude, if we don’t, we’rejust going to regret it later, so suck it up.

Dean rolled his eyes before looking back at the kids. “Youcut off their heads,” he said, overriding Phantom’s offer of ‘crucifix’. “Ilike a machete, but anything’ll do in the pinch. Sword, sickle, garrote, ice…thing.”Phantom was good with that ice; chances were, he could make something strong enoughand sharp enough to do the job if he tried. “But if you’re trying to take downa vamp nest, you’ll wanna get your hands on some dead man’s blood.”

“On what?” the Ninja repeated. Phantom looked surprised butdidn’t seem as disturbed by the idea, maybe because he’d have an easier timegetting some in the first place.

“Dead man’s blood,” repeated Sam, even though Dean wascertain the repetition was unnecessary. “Preferably, more than one syringe full.It’ll knock them out cold, usually for a couple of hours.”

“Uh huh,” the Ninja said slowly, “and when you say nest, do you mean more of a cave, forwhen they’re bats? Are they more vulnerable at that point, being bats?”

Sam winced. “They can’t turn into bats, either. They do have a retractable set of teeth, sowhen they bite someone, expect more than two puncture marks.” Sam went on toexplain more of the signs, what to watch for, and Dean had to admit that thequestions slowly got less inane and more intelligent as Sam started working hisway through the most common monsters and the kids genuinely started to listen.

Dean wasn’t sure the kids believed them, of course. TheNinja had outright laughed when Dean had said Cas was an angel, evenconsidering they were hunting a demon, and that crack at gods and deities madeit clear the Ninja had never met any of them. (To be honest, Dean wished hehadn’t met a bunch of them, either, since none of the experiences had exactlybeen fun, but that was beside the point.) But it would be something, and if itmeant someone lived, then that was surely worth this pain and suffering.

“Um, yeah, definitely gonna have to veto you on that one.Salt does not work on ghosts.”

Probably.

“You wanna test that theory of yours, kid?” Dean asked. “I’vegot a bag of rock salt in the trunk. We can find out pretty quick.”

“Oh, I would bet money on this.” Phantom was grinning. “Howabout, um….”

“Dinner at McFlubbusters,” piped up the Ninja immediately.It was probably his favourite place—or at least one of them—and chances were hehad forgotten that he was currently wearing a mask.

Still, Dean agreed to their terms. (Sam just sat thereshaking his head, so Dean didn’t plan on letting him order dessert. Not that hewould, anyway. He still did not appreciate the sanctity of pie.) He and Samwere due for a free dinner, anyway, even though he had doubts about whetherPhantom or the Ninja would be able to cough up enough between them to cover onemeal. But sometimes, it really is the thought that counts.

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