et Lady Chance

Ladybug Marinette Dupain-Cheng Private, Semi-Selective Rp Blog PERSONALS DO NOT FOLLOW. cirqa Sept. 2015

[ladymagique]

@fastestboyalive​ so I don’t reblog an ask

“Ça va ça vient, juste comme toi. Aussi, si je vous appelle “Monsieur Coureur" quelqu'un pourrait vous prendre pour “Monsieur Courrier.” Pouvez-vous postez quelque chose pour moi?” 

[ladymagique]

May I ask why personal blogs are not allowed to follow?

[Because on my last Ladybug roleplay blog, it got to the point I got hundreds of followers every week that were not roleplay blogs. They were following me due to the fandom things I reblogged, and in that mess, I wound up losing dozens of roleplay notifications, and missing out on actual roleplayers who wanted to interact with me. Even going back to that blog now, which has been archived, it’s got thousands of followers who are all personal blogs. I was effectively run out of my own roleplay blog because I couldn’t keep up with the alerts and I had to remake to keep up with my roleplays. So please respect my request and only follow me if you’re a roleplay blog.]

[ladymagique]

[stretches slowly and debates returning to this blog.]

[capedcg-blog]

     “That’s unfortunate.I wonder what she has to gain by being mean to people, then?”

[ladymagique]

“See, that’s the thing, no one knows. She’s been like that for so long that I don’t think there’s any reason for it anymore.”

[chase-eternally-young-a-deactiv]

“Is that so? Well, it’s no problem. I can wait.”, the Warlord said kindly as he tugged on the collar of his shirt. Now that he was under the public’s gaze, Chase had to put on more modern attire so is not to attract suspicion. However, the only modern clothing he had to his name was a suit, so he’d just have to pass himself off as a business man or something…

“I’ll wait as long as it takes if it means I get a taste of what this establishment has to offer. I’ve heard plenty of good things about it.” And yet, despite his excitement, he couldn’t help but feel a bit… on edge? He hasn’t quite recognized just who this girl is, but he was picking up on a familiar scent that he couldn’t put a name to. Whatever it was, he had the strangest sense to keep his guard up while in this area.

[ladymagique]

Still not able to believe her surprisingly atrocious luck in coming across the other in the streets, unsure if she was able to keep a completely straight face in the face of someone she was fully aware was nothing like the akuma she fought on a daily basis--no, Chase Young was something more sinister in the fact that he was not an akuma. He was beyond her ability to purify, and that was what was truly a disturbing thought.

Finishing the sign with a flourish, Marinette tried to swallow the uncomfortable lump of anxiety that had started to well in the back of her throat, taking a deep breath. “It won’t be long,” She adds, her mind rushing. Chat Noir had not been with her when she’d faced this foe; could she take the time to try and call him up if she slipped away upstairs? No, if he appeared, then it would just be suspicious as to how he’d call Chase out in his disguise. “You can sit inside already if you like, Papa is setting up the display for today’s croissants, then I’ll help you at the register.”

[capedcg-blog]

     “That girl, eh, Chloe – - is she always like that?” 

( @ladymagique )

[ladymagique]

“Always. No exceptions. I’ve never seen Chloe be genuinely nice if it didn’t benefit her in some way in my entire life.” 

That’s probably just the anger in the girl talking, but.. not entirely far from the truth.

[devoted-runner-blog]

There weren’t many opportunities like this, yet their manager had managed to get a scholarship for Honan’s members, on the basis that the change in environment- and it was a huge change, mind you, Paris, a luck that the courses were offered in English, otherwise they would all have been dead by now- would help them perform better in their running, and improve their overall spirits- to that reason a few recent disputes might have been the cause.

Kyosuke decided to make use of the facility after his usual evening run, and since not many tended to be around at night time- only a few dedicated people, at least that was the cause back at Honan- then the snow haired male could practice freely, enjoying the solitude. After all, Kuga was simply reserved and he considered time alone a good way to focus and improve oneself.

However, what the ashen eyed male did not expect upon entering the room was the sight of a girl running so beautifully. Her form was definitely good, her time impressing, not to mention she definitely put a show on the gimmicks… This one was no beginner.

“That was impressive…”

Kyosuke allowed himself to comment once the third year student was near her.

[ladymagique]

The response to his words resulted in a full body jump and at best, an undignified yelp of alarm from the girl. Enjoy shoulders lurching forward as she turned with wide eyes, she couldn’t help the resulting rush of panicked thoughts that played like a scene in her mind. Marinette was less worried about the fact she’d just squawked like a bird in her shock, and more wondering how much of the run he’d witnessed. Surely if she’d been caught then she’d get into trouble-- even if the school’s Stride track was definitely open, this late at night could she get in trouble for trespassing? Had she been being obvious about her moves, would he be able to pin her as a school runner? Would she get disqualified? Marinette’s uneasiness bled into her movement, sending shaky glance back as a guttering imitation of a laugh slipped out as she faced him. Slipping a hand up behind her neck, she rubbed awkwardly there with her face burning. 

“T-That? Nono I was just. Hah, messing around a little-” If she could downplay it, perhaps she could pretend she wasn’t interested at all. Wasn’t that her best excuse? She was never a spectator at any of the school matches, after all. “I’ll get out of your way, though..!” How quickly could she retreat out of this was the big question, when one of her ‘competitors’ had seen her take a run.

[kohakuriiver-archive-blog]

     Paris, France. Well, he supposed that he could have gone FARTHER off-course. When he’d taken the time to fly away from the bath house and the realm of spirits for a while, he’d had no intention of heading quite so far out of bounds – no doubt that would only make it all the more painful when Yubaba sent her cronies after him to bring him back. Though was no longer her apprentice, and technically wasn’t required to answer to her now in the same way that he once would have, as a spirit he DID have a loyalty to the bath house that he needed to uphold. Revealing the secrets of their world to humans – even unintentionally – posed a tremendous threat to their entire existence. 

     And of course, of all places for him to land, he just had to have plummeted right into the middle of a densely-populated human city.

     Her questions were a tad more difficult to answer than he might have anticipated. To a degree, Haku did recall what had happened ( it was the why, not so much the how, that bemused him ) but somehow he thought that his fall from the sky would be rather hard to explain. He could see no real way around it except to say that he’d been FLYING, and he had the distinct feeling that saying such a thing in his current state would only frighten her into thinking he’d hit his head much harder than she thought.

     “My name is Haku,” he confided at last, pulling himself upright to allow her a better look into his calm, steady gaze. “And I think I remember enough to at least piece together what happened, even though it’s a bit hazy. It’s strange – I can clearly remember arriving here, and then not long afterward, it was as if I just blacked out.” 

     It certainly wouldn’t be the first time he’d simply over-exhausted himself in an attempt to get away from the bath house, and yet … something about it had felt different from that. In fact, something told him that Yubaba was directly involved in this. If not her, then who? He didn’t know of anyone else powerful enough to tamper with his magic in such a consequential way.

     “I’m sorry if I frightened you,” he thought to add after a moment’s pause. “It must have looked much worse than it actually is.”

[ladymagique]

There’s only a split second of internal debate; if he wasn’t from Paris, then perhaps he had no idea of the random appearances of possessed humans with supernatural abilities. She didn’t want to scare someone with the prospect, especially if they’d just been injured, but the risk of an Akuma running wild was too great for her to not need to press for information. Even if she didn’t want to shock or startle him, her duty as Ladybug came to protecting the city as a final line. “It did look pretty scary,” she agreed, relieved to find no shakiness of pupil or concentration when he sat up, even though she’d have likely preferred he stay down until he could be looked at by someone with more medical experience than herself. With a deep breath, she tried to work out the sentencing for what she wanted to ask in the least...crazy sounding way possible. 

“So,” She started, off to a bad beginning already, as she tapped her fingers against her bent knees, still not standing from where she’d knelt next to the boy. “Was there anything strange you noticed before you blacked out? Like anyone in a strange costume, or any bright flashing lights? If you were attacked, then Ladybug and Chat Noir need to be alerted, I meant.”  Always strange to talk about herself in the third person, but she was getting gradually more used to the concept of treating Ladybug as a “separate” entity, even when it was herself behind the mask. She probably sounded odd enough to someone who wasn’t a local, with talk of costumes and flashing light. She didn’t want to bring up the word magic essentially, even though at its core, that was what turned normal citizens into the monstrous Akuma.  “Do you feel like you were....maybe thrown, or teleported somehow? I know this probably sounds weird. It’s sort of normal around here, though.”

[chatncir-blog]

     He would be honest; the Agreste boy was dying to see her again. The passing weeks in the wake of the Bourgeois’ ball was full of his seemingly endless pacing and confiding in Nino. The agitation that had stirred in his chest was directed back to him – why had he not seriously asked her for the name of the face behind the mask? (Then again, would she have even given it to him?) The allure of hidden identities had all but worn off, kept inspiring only by the thought of how incredulous a story it would be to tell some day. If he ever found her. 

     But his chosen companion had one thing Adrien did not possess: charm and connections. Well – - that wasn’t entirely true, Adrien was well acquainted with his father’s associates and the bookkeepers and the high society company Chloe kept about her, but he rarely knew anyone or anything below a certain level of elite (ironic, really, considering the state his family name was dwindling to). 

      Nino was in a rather smug sorts almost unfit for a gentleman when he entered the yard one afternoon, a letter of confirmation clutched tightly in one hand. Adrien’s anxiety mounted tenfold  with – joy? anticipation? apprehension? – as he waited it out, watching the date roll ever so slowly closer and closer. This was stupid, being led on like this; for all he knew, his comrade could have simply played him for the infatuated fool he was. But who was to say he wasn’t allowed to hope?

     When the carriage pulled up on the young spring morning, his feelings were well-hidden with a polite smile and hands clasped militantly behind his back. Nino’s arms were wide and welcoming as he stepped out, greeting their two new guests, but Adrien hung back a little ways – watching, waiting. The sight of Alya was a welcome one, a face that was familiar yet not, but the second debutante that approached alongside her struck recognition like a hot iron in his chest.  He covers it with a nod of his head, his gentle smile widening. Of all the things he could and should say, his well-manicured mannerisms were failing him. He settles for a slightly awkward greeting instead.

    “I hope the travel here was decent for you.” 

[ladymagique]

The little rush of fresh air that accompanied the carriage doors opening was all Marinette needed to refresh her nerves, though she wasn’t exactly looking forward to tea and lunch with absolute strangers even if Alya knew Nino quite well in passing. Chin lifted still as she took in the view momentarily from the top of the carriage steps, resting over the estate but also their hosts.  While Alya was quick to take Nino’s hand in helping down from the carriage, though Marinette was much more inclined to take the idle hop down from the steps herself, the skirts at her ankles rustling but never moving above the proper “modest” amount--likely because they were too damn heavy to lift more than a few centimeters even in a healthy breeze. The downsides of high fashion. 

She didn’t place the strands of flaxen blonde at first, though the subtle hint of voice, coupled with the flash of green of his eyes when the girl turned made her shoulders stiffen suddenly. Wide blue blinking in alarm at the pure chance she’d had of running across someone who ...well, she had not expected to be able to make out in a crowd or much less without the crowd, and for a precious second, Marinette was unsure of what to say, gloved fingers folding against themselves.  A quick glance to Alya told her the girl had not expected Adrien there, but she knew of him certainly; almost as well as she knew of her friend’s defined interest in the masked black cat she’d danced with at the ball. “Ah, my apologies,” her friend interjected, freeing her own palm from Nino’s. “How rude of me, allow me to introduce my friend,” Alya insisted. After all, it would be uncouth for Marinette to speak to a Lord in title, without a proper introduction.  “My dear friend, Miss Marinette Dupain, and Lord Adrien Agreste.” The girl continued, and Marinette on cue dropped into an...unfortunately slightly clumsy curtsy, banging the back of her ankle on the carriage she’d just stepped down from. Stifling a yelp behind a grit jaw, she let out a queasy laugh.  ...Lord? And she’d been calling him sir like a common kitchen boy at the ball. She could all but die of embarrassment on the spot.

[offireandflight-blog]

        “Let no one think of me that I am humble or weak    or passive; let them understand I am of a different kind:          dangerous to my enemies, loyal to my friends.”

—Euripides, Medea and Other Plays                                                            art cred

[capedcg-blog]

Mais petit modernisé           Pourquoi tu me parles mal ?                         Je respecte les Pygmées

                                   Donc respecte les Maassaï !!

[ladymagique]

@devoted-runner liked for a starter!

Admittedly it would be a waste to not use the new facilities the school had recently built to support the Stride team. With the Parisian Mayor’s recent interest in Stride--likely due to his daughter’s interest in it--there had been a recent influx of funding to set up the facility. It wouldn’t make much sense for her, someone supposedly completely unrelated to the team, to use it during the day however; Marinette had taken up making Stride runs and training on her own fairly late at night. 

It wasn’t that she hated her team, or didn’t want to work with them, rather...it was moreso the fact she couldn’t run with them at all if they knew her secret. So, training and experience on the course remained fairly quiet, with Alya secretly giving her student ID access to the course to train on the down-low.

The plus side of running at night was the fact she didn’t have to wear mask or hood, rather a light set of jogging clothes. It was a free feeling to not have to run under such scrutiny, but she hadn’t noticed that she wasn’t necessarily alone in the facility anymore, and as the girl’s run slowed after a detailed gimmicks section, she leaned against the wall to catch her breath before stretching. She seemed entirely unaware that she was not alone, but at this point, was feeling too satisfied with the exercise to pay much attention.

[ladymagique]

((Also keep in mind you don’t gotta be in the Ladybug fandom/a ladybug muse to get in on my AUs please come join me ‘A’ ))

[ladymagique]

Prince of Stride - [Masked Runner] Set in the competitive world of Stride, Marinette has always had a passion for not only watching Stride, but running as well. Unfortunately, the girl has always been horrendously clumsy, and to top it off-- Stride competitions are generally male exclusive. And so, for most of her life, Marinette practice in private, without the hope of joining the school club as a runner...until high school. With the school’s Stride club recruiting new blood, the new manager and her new best friend, Alya, catches the girl running alone in the park. Stunned by how well Marinette ran when not knowing she was being watched, and with one of their last runners quitting the team, Alya hatches a plan to not only get the team a full roster, but let Marinette live her dream of running in Stride.  Pulling a name of one of the home schooled students registered under their high school district program, Marinette becomes the ‘mystery’ runner of the team with a slightly over-sized uniform and a mask (surely just a shy runner, Alya insists to the rest of the team and the school) to hide the fact she’s definitely a girl.  Marinette is a gimmick runner, specializing in obstacles and jumps, but is known for her fast improvisation and acrobatics.  It’s a bit difficult. She can’t train, or talk with her team, really. She shows up to matches and she runs because that’s what she does best, whether she’s Marinette or a mysterious runner, but one day she hopes to relation with her team without the premise of her being a boy or not. For now, none of her own team with the exception of Alya can know, lest the secret be leaked and she be kicked from the group by the administration.

[offireandflight-blog]

Barbara was used to taking a beat. She knew the risks. She had signed herself up for this. Even so, she wasn’t usually so reckless. Her roommate was going to flip. That was if she couldn’t make a fast cover up story. She should have considered that early, but she hadn’t quite been roughed up this bad in a while. She supposed that’s what happened, when one didn’t sleep enough. Okay, maybe, she needed to work on her teamwork with Ladybug. She was too accustomed to working with Batman and the various (ex)Robins. Training with Ladybug might have improved this somewhat, but Barbara needed to work on herself.

And of course, they went up against some of the tougher criminals of Gotham. They still weren’t the worst of the worst. She didn’t know if she was glad for that or even more worried. Never mind that now, she reminded herself. She would deal with that day, if and when it came. She had enough aches and pains to worry about. Leave it to her to worry about the future, even when she was down for the count. Even when wounded, Barbara rarely slowed down.

”Huh?” she blinked for a few seconds as she was pulled out of her train of thought. “Oh, yeah, hospitals are definitely off the list.”

She was taken aback by the offer then broke out into a smile. She, unfortunately, was all too used to being stitched back up while conscious. “Y’know, that might not be such a bad idea. I’m in.” Maybe it was. How much did she really know about Ladybug? Not much. Truth be told, Ladybug probably knew even less about her. Barbara wasn’t exactly what someone would call a team player.

[ladymagique]

At least it seemed she was not the only one who knew that explaining cuts and scrapes and bruises to medical professionals would leave more questions than answers, and getting the police involved was out of the realm of possibility. It’d be too easy for them to connect the stories of recent criminal brought in with the location of her scrapes and cuts.  “I don’t suppose you’ve got a first aid kit in that belt of yours?” Marinette questioned, stepping forward to examine the slices through the redhead’s protective suit, jaw tightening with a wince as she took note of just how deep they went; not beyond the realm of her ability, but still quite a number. It made her wonder how the other took it without the help of magic, but it earned her further respect, too. 

“I could use Lucky Charm, but there’s no guarantee it’d give me what I need to fix this up, and I’d only have five minutes after that, too,” she explained, hoping Batgirl would catch on that her using that secret power of hers would hardly give her the time needed to stitch the other up. Plus, she could always wind up with something that’d help with a completely different situation, too.. All she needed was a strong needle and thick thread to get the job done. “If not, we can stop by a local business I know of, it should have the supplies.” She honestly didn’t want to take the other by her place of work, though..

[ladymagique]

((b/c I’m lowkey trash: Imagine a Prince of Stride AU where Marinette runs for the Parisian team while in disguise because the sport seems to be male-competitor only? So Alya’s the relationer and the manager and sneaks her into the matches in uniform and like, a lowkey mask because “hah this guy is just really shy” so her own team doesn’t actually realize it’s a girl b/c she never shows up for practice, she disappears right after, she uses a fake name, but damn can ‘that guy’ run.))

[queenmiko-moved-deactivated2017]

Kimiko had an ordinary life-or as ordinary as one could possibly be here in this nation. A former tribute, she’d somehow managed to win her Hunger Games in what seemed ages ago. Her, the protected, somewhat well off daughter of a rising merchant in District Three, who’d never been in the wilderness for long.  Small and inexperienced, she was taken as not much of a threat. But that’d been key-she proved to be much more resilient and resourceful than anyone else might have possibly expected. And in some crazy twist of sheer fate, she’d won. But she’d paid for it-the nightmares and trauma never left her, and she was stuck being a victor, a mentor trying to save children from their deaths (and failing) and stuck as a pawn of the Capitol.

She’d never say anything outwardly, but deep down, she was a rebel at heart, wanting freedom. And so she joined a secret organization to bring down the tyrannical reign of those in charge. It came naturally to her. 

Eying the blue headed female who was now next to her, she waved a simple greeting.

“Marinette! How are you?” Her words weren’t overly cheery, but warm. Something told her she could count on Marinette. They’d worked together to try and save her tribute the last time, to help Adrien Agreste win despite all odds. They had something of a bond there.

[ladymagique]

The familiar face meeting her was more than a comfort--it was a relief. Marinette had been worried she’d be at a run in with a stranger, which was always dangerous. Fortunately their organization tended to keep deliveries between as few people as possible; when working through linked chains, if one started to rust, you could cut the nearest one off without sacrificing the greater part of your work.  “Good afternoon,” She answered with an outward smile, never quite displeased to see the other. In all honesty, she owed Kimiko more than she could ever repay her for helping her save Adrien; after all, Marinette had hardly been in the right state of mind as the boy’s Designer, creating work after work to auction off to the highest bidder as quickly as possible just to afford gifts to send him in the arena. “It’d a bit warm, but I’ve been worse,” she added by way of greeting, offering an idle laugh. Warm indeed. She’d had a few too-close calls to the Capitol Peacekeepers finding her out after curfew lately.