et Lady Chance

Indie Selective Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the Miraculous Ladybug! See rules before interacting, please. Do NOT follow if you're a personal blog.

[ladymagique-archive]

this blog is archived. remade over on

@ladymagique

[ladymagique-archive]

What to do if you had a rp with me on this blog that you want to continue on my next blog.

message me about it on my next blog and give me a link to the last post if it’s my turn.

that’s literally it.

[ladymagique-archive]

(whispers that I’m remaking this blog and archiving this one cause I can’t deal with 600+ followers that are mostly personals)

[ladymagique-archive]

                       🐞 Home 🐞 Rules 🐞 Muse 🐞 Mun 🐞 Verses 🐞             

[ladymagique-archive]

     She’d seen the person on the ground in front of her take a hard fall from the distance, and from the way their head had bounced off of the pavement, she was honestly worried if they’d broken their neck, or even worse. Knowing at least not to move them if they had a possible head injury, she did a quick check to see if they were breathing, before she tried to pull them to consciousness with a loud, firm tone.  “Salut? Es-tu réveillé? Peux-tu m'entendre?”  She wasn’t sure if the person she leaned over even spoke French, though she had defaulted quickly to her native language in the slight big of panic running through her veins, side by side with the adrenaline. Should she go get someone for help? She could honestly only pray they’d simply been knocked unconscious temporarily from the hit.

[ladymagique-archive]

[I haven’t been active with new rp followers on this blog in a minute... so  if you want to plot, hit up my inbox or my skype (in the tags), OR comment on this post with what verse you want a starter in! I’m not doing a like-for-a-starter post because those rps never tend to get very far without specific planning otherwise, but verse related starters I can do.]?

[ladymagique-archive]

negative below cut.

[I love this blog and I love playing Marinette but god I feel like I’m being chased off of my own roleplay blog by constantly being flooded with personal blog followers when “Do not follow if you’re a personal blog’ is IN MY BLOG BIO. I get almost ten a day at this point. I lose notifications, I lose roleplay blogs I want to roleplay with because it’s a STRAIN to go through all of the new followers finding people to follow back, and my threads get notifications from people who aren’t involved with them. I’ve had to go ask 4 people not to reblog my roleplay threads because??? I don’t know if they think they’re fanfiction or something but those are one on one interactions?? Tumblr blogs of popular characters/series are becoming less of a safe place to roleplay and more of a strain to want to deal with .. .]

[pananimal]

Put this on your page to block out all the haters.

[m-gabriel-agreste-blog-deactiva]

Gabriel wondered if he should offer to help Marinette further before deciding against it.  He didn’t know the girl that well; it would be unprofessional to fund a nigh-stranger, even if she was an intriguing designer and a friend of his son’s.

Speaking of which…

“How is it you know Adrien well enough to bring his homework to our house?”  Gabriel’s attempt at fishing for information was hardly subtle.  Marinette was nice enough, undoubtedly, but he couldn’t help feeling he had missed something, missed how his son came to trust her with gathering his assignments.  Granted Adrien saw her on a daily basis, whereas Gabriel did not, but still…  “Do the two of you spend much time together outside of school?”

[ladymagique-archive]

...Whoops. That had not been a question she had either expected, or been prepared to answer. Freezing momentarily and skipping an entire step in her pace to the point she nearly stumbled, the girl’s mind raced for a quick excuse or answer that wasn’t the equivalent of ‘I’ve had a crush on your son since the day I set eyes on that radiant face and endearing smile. I could sing his name to the heavens and fight seventy akuma at once-’  An internal kick to herself snapped her out of it, and the girl let out a quaking laugh, at best. “I! Um.” It’s not like she could say she simply knew where it was at because she knew as much as she possibly could about the Agreste short of sneaking into his room, “I delivered a birthday present there, before. But-- Nino wasn’t in school today, so I volunteered... and no, not really...”   Was she red in the face? She felt red. A good look in a mirror would let her know she was practically scarlet at this point, though.

[chatncir-blog]

The cat quirked up a brow at her little response, head tilting slightly. ‘Oh?’ Was it really so surprising to imagine the heroes actually did have lives beyond their duties beneath the masks? There was always the constant rush of getting back home (at the very least, out of the public eye) before their transformations wore off – there was actually a life beyond the few hours they spent serving the people of Paris. 

Well. Almost a life. He always wondered if his father’s micromanagement of his time really counted as living his own life. 

“Is that so?” Chat nearly scoffed, resting his elbows on his knees. Marinette sounded so sure of her words, sitting there. On the spot – amazing. If she really did recognize him, would she be talking to him like this now, or revert to her usual habits of stuttering and avoiding him at all costs? He was sitting in front of her every single day. Yeah, sure, she would recognize him. “Of course you would.” He hoped she didn’t really hear the slight of sarcasm in his voice. 

“Oh, multiple things.” Modeling, fencing, basketball….. the second and third dwarfed in comparison to his modeling gigs, as mandated by his father, but he tried to be a little diverse. The cat did not move or lean away when she drew a bit nearer; he liked the closeness, this extension of some familiarity that he could definitely fancy. At her guess of his secondary extra-curricular, he smirked. “Well, that’s one.” No more hints. The tension in his shoulders was dissipating , the worries that made him struggle were lessening little by little. This was helping – Marinette was helping. 

“Drama? What makes you say that?” Adrien could act, sure, but it wasn’t someting he could fit into his schedule – in fact, the biggest display of his talent was with Nino’s script, and that was limited by the Horrificator’s appearance. Jokingly, however, he raised a hand and pretended to inspect it, repeating in a sullen voice, “To be, or not to be…that is the question.” Of course, he couldn’t help but wink at Marinette, a smile creeping up on his features. Maybe he should be in drama.

[ladymagique-archive]

Oh? So she’d gotten fencing right. She was easily enough distracted from his sarcasm and scoffing at her claim of being able to recognize one of his club activities. It didn’t necessarily surprise her that he did Fencing--not at all, really. He had the grace of it, for all of the small mistakes his misfortune caused him. Marinette gave him a wry look, a glint to her eyes as she watched his faux attempts a sullenness, and she leaned back. “Mm. Maybe not Hamlet. After all, here you are, climbing to my balcony. Doesn’t that make you Romeo?” She couldn’t help but laugh, folding her hands behind her back as she spun for a moment, musing over her memories of Shakespeare; how often had she subtly memorized the lines, hoping in some dream to a dream to get cast in the (not quite as tragic) lovers role with Adrien? Her shoulders relaxed, and she gave a little smile, glancing back to him over her shoulder. Her body slowly turned as she spoke, each little step coinciding with the lines of the script she could remember even now:        “ô Roméo ! Roméo ! pourquoi es-tu Roméo?             Renie ton père et abdique ton nom;        ou, si tu ne le veux pas, jure dem'aimer,             et je ne serai plus une Capulet.”

Undeniably the little grin on her features hinted she was proud of herself for remembering the lines, even though it’d been so long since she’d spoken or read them. After all, a good amount of work had gone into memorizing them, even if, as per normal, Chloe had gotten the role at the time and Marinette had unfortunately been assigned the position of generic dead Capulet body #2. 

[blogginelle-archive-blog]

    “PLUH-EESE. Chat Noir has nothing on me. I’m one of a kind. And if he’s not up for the challenge, he isn’t the hero I thought he was.” She retorted. What? She couldn’t challenge the heartthrob? Time to pull out those boxing gloves ‘cuz she is not going to lose.

Alya rolled her eyes and went back to checking her phone. “Don’t worry. I have a schedule. I always do homework in class and between breaks. That way, I have time for Ladyblog and my parents don’t have to worry about my grades failing. You underestimate my dedication. I am very ambitious.”

[ladymagique-archive]

If it resulted in an actual fight between Chat Noir and Alya...well, Marinette wasn’t entirely sure how she wanted to see that end. She remembered clearly the situation with Lady Wifi in which the masked Alya had slammed Chat to the ground even without the power of her digital signaled phone. The thought nearly made her cringe.

“I wish I had that sort of determination. Maybe I could stop oversleeping or missing class.” It was a lot easier to prod fun at herself knowing exactly the reason why she did miss class. After all, if she avoided the subject, people would get suspicious. “It’s good to hear you’re so good at managing your time, though.”

[jxckspxcer-a]

☠〖ᴇᴠɪʟ ʙᴏʏ ɢᴇɴɪᴜs〗☠       ❝Leather and contrasting colors are befitting of evildoers, thank you very        much. This outfit is prime evil material! So kiss my baby seal BOOTS.❞ He        scrunched up his nose, before flipping his goggles down, ❝As a matter of        fact, I can see perfectly out of these! It’s two sided, and functional. Hand        made too. Meanwhile what in the world is your mask supposed to be doing?        Hiding your identity? It’s not working very well!❞ Says the guy who can’t        recognize either of the heros out of costume.

[ladymagique-archive]

“Monsieur Retro, I’m fairly certain I’ve seen flocks of pigeons far more evil than you’ll ever be.”  Which wasn’t a lie, to be fair. With some of the villains plaguing Paris under the control of Hawkmoth, Marinette had seen some pretty strange things. As he flipped his goggles down, she brought the palm of her hand to her lips, stifling a giggle in the honest attempt to not actually be rude about laughing to his face over how ridiculous he looked. A valiant effort, but it was hard to actually kill or muffle the giggle that slipped free.  “Is that true, then? If it does such a poor job, what is my name?”

[chatncir-blog]

The longer he stood, the longer he felt more tired – not in the eye-closing, drifting to sleep way, but the way that shock places its hands around someone’s heart and squeezes. The boy was breathing, but he wasn’t – he was anxious, horribly anxious, and it made him avoid her gaze. How terrible – his father would be highly displeased by the state of a failing composure. It was bad for his image (though, as a District member, did he even have one to begin with?) 

Her words were comforting, in an ill-at-ease form, but a heavy sigh ripped through his chest involuntarily and he ran a hand through his hair. Stop. Stop. Stop. Adrien blinked rapidly, mouth pressing into a thin line. Marinette’s tone, gentle but firm, made him feel like he might be worth winning the games – whether he did or not was up to him. “Everyone,” He murmured, barely audible. All 24 of them. They all deserved the victory.

What a terrible game. 

Adrien’s head snapped up, a bewildered look in his gaze. Made something? As far as he had known, it had only been maybe two hours since they had locked him in this room. He didn’t know her beyond the quiet giggles she shared with her friend when they passed in the hall, when he was there as a formality to send her off as a budding designer. Yet if she had made him something – and it wasn’t in regards to the games – this was before his name was ever drawn, was it not? 

Curiosity mixed with confusion drove him to step forward, his head tilted slightly. “Because it’s me?”  The repetition fell from his mouth without thought, and for a moment he feared he would be the subject of a stupid thought, but bigger things to worry about were at hand. 

[ladymagique-archive]

Maybe she’d spoken a bit too openly, or at least in a manner that might have made her words seem out of place. It certainly didn’t seem to help that she had in fact already had several designs in mind from back home that, at any given moment, may have looked entirely dazzling on Adrien himself. None of them had been, however, for this occasion...but she could always alter anything after the fact.  Which was what she’d done with this particular outfit. The outfit that he undoubtedly likely knew now that she’d had in mind from long before his name had been called as a Tribute. 

Marinette averted her gaze quickly, clearing her throat with an idle, nervous laugh that betrayed her lack of an answer, bustling quickly back to the doorway to pull in the bag she’d dropped there, out of sight and out of mind, until she could get Adrien settled a bit. She hadn’t wanted to force anything on him so quickly, but now he seemed a bit more (just a bit at that, too) open to talking.  “They’re going to make you go on display the minute you leave the train. There’s going to be a lot of people waiting at the train station, and... well, I know that can make a lot of people nervous.” Was it obvious she’d asked a lot of questions of her design leader? Probably yes, unfortunately, but she’d wanted to be prepared. Pulling a flat clothing box from the bag, she held it out to him. Inside would be a thick, layered outfit of embroidered gold and green on black satin, but it would keep him well-warm in the Capitol this time of year. On top, however, lay the most recent of her creations. A slender, but well-conceived skin-layer mask that would hide not only his appearance, but act as a blinder to keep the flashing of cameras and video out of his eyes for his landing; no tribute had ever worn a mask straight from the train, and undoubtedly, it would both draw the attention he needed for public intrigue, and help him drive off a bit of anxiety, hopefully. 

[ladymagique-archive]

Masquerade;; for chatncir

[chatncir-blog]

If he were so bold to admit, he wanted to show off. Adrien was by no means obnoxious, or even remotely outgoing, but he could deviate from his reserved standards of mannerisms when eyes were on him without knowing specifically that it was him. The young woman who had placed her hand on his arm was not an accessory by any means, but he wanted to display the rather beautiful appearance of the rare gem he had stumbled across while avoiding what some might believe to be another. 

Whispers had begun from over his shoulders, young women hiding behind fans as they murmured to one another. Who was this girl? What sort of dress was she wearing? What family was she from? It only made the subtle smile on his face widen. His partner had caught the attention of almost everyone in the room, and they all wanted to know who they were. Who she was.

And he had absolutely no clue. 

“Two left feet, you say?” The young man replied, eyes narrowing in slight mischief behind the mask. How humorous, considering the hour and the state of those around them. Not many were still fairly sharp of their senses, even less completely sober. The competition to impress wasn’t high. “I’m certain that you will prove me wrong, my Lady.” 

A familiar, uneasy feeling pricked him suddenly. It was always something that happened whenever Chloe rediscovered his whereabouts at parties such as these, the few seconds he had of recognition before she backed him into a corner and called his name for all to hear. He could feel her eyes locked on him through the throng of people. The hair on the nape of his neck stood, but he did not waver his gaze – instead, Adrien kept it on the girl before him, his smile unchanging. Not even Chloe could ruin his current amusement, not now.  

His steps were careful and practiced, mimicking the other gentlemen of the room. Dances were a favored part of these affairs; the fluid motion, the livelihood of the room, the cheery music – it was far better than standing about socializing (especially with the rumors of his family’s name hanging over his head). There would be plenty of time to entertain the elite when he was older, when he took care of the mess his father was trying to leave him in. 

Passing his partner and turning on his heel, the young Agreste smirked. “It appears to me that you are better at this than I.”

[ladymagique-archive]

If Chloe had stumbled across what was quickly becoming an increasingly private encounter despite their startlingly more public appearance, it would be difficult to maneuver the guests of her house through the plethora of onlookers, gapes, and even the crowd of disinterested guests that lingered on the border from sample plates of finger foods and fluted crystal glasses of new wines.  She was unaware of his instinctive uneasiness, feeling as if she might drown in her own. Marinette was impressed with his sudden play of confidence, if anything, and as they assumed the stance of a the interweaving dancers that left them in passes and the barest touches of elbow and palm, Marinette found herself with a pleased flush dashing her cheeks under the lace ridging of her mask. 

“Beginner’s luck, I assure you. I’m quite gifted in the skills of fortune, I’ll have you know.” It was her one point to boast, she was sure. While Marinette did not have the formal breeding, training, and education as many of the well dressed young damsels casting their own lines of flirtation to their respective well-to-do partners, she’d always had the charm of luck on her side, at least. 

The skirts of her dressed flared as she spun at heel, brushing his ankles and shin with the grace of light laces and silks. It took a keen eye and her sharpest observation to mimic the other women in the dancing line mere seconds after they did, and she could only hope her partner wouldn’t notice the subtle delay in her moves. It wouldn’t do for her object of teasing to notice just how inexperienced at the arts she was. 

However, that same observation caught the piercing ice-blue stare that followed their every moves from the sidelines; Chloe had spotted her prey, and the Ladybug that had enamored his attention for the time being.  “You, sir, are being watched. Is that a spited lover, I see, chasing down a black cat?” The tone of friendly mockery was still ever so light in her voice as she did another pass, palm pressing to his as they made eye contact, blue focusing up to green again. “Because she looks as if she’d be happier with the end of me and this dance than any treasure in the world.” 

[unbxrial-deactivated20170103]

“I probably won’t, far WORSE likely will.”

Though he DID like to be someone’s pain in the ass, too. Unlike Batman, neither the Arkham Knight nor the moniker for Red Hood are only supposed to spread fear, but give them REASONS to fear their life. Men like Black Mask, Scarecrow or other masked individuals simply didn’t fear the Bat, for they KNOW he wasn’t going to kill them. An observation he once talked with Alfred about, a WEAKNESS he’s been observing from the very beginning.

He didn’t do heroism, but still TRIED do something valuable with the money he keeps receiving due to several deals with Gotham’s scum.

“Don’t try to be the noble knightess ‘round here. Ya can’t cleanse a whole city of its crimes, nor control ‘em with fear.”

[ladymagique-archive]

“I’m not trying to ‘cleanse’ the city, or control anyone here. I’m trying to get home.”  Not exactly a lie; if she could have entirely avoided stumbling across Jason it would have likely left a much less sour taste in her mouth entirely for the evening. She was fairly done with the Gotham lot criticizing her spots, after all-- what did a city crawling with people who wore clown suits as their villainous disguise know about fashion? 

“I’ve done my fair share of protecting a city. I’m not new to this gig.” And the one super villain of Paris had eventually been taken into custody and removed of his powers. “From what I hear, this city’s got plenty of heroes, I just don’t plan on letting people get away with crimes if I so happen to cross it. Despite whatever crusade you think I’m on here, trust me when I say you’re wrong.” 

[m-gabriel-agreste-blog-deactiva]

“Excellent,” said Gabriel, nodding in understanding. He thought about dropping the thread of conversation, about letting Marinette retreat into her own thoughts as they neared their destination. He couldn’t say what it was, however, that made the next few sentences flow out unbidden.

“One wouldn’t necessarily know it from talking to me,” Gabriel remarked wryly, “but I remember what it was like to be a young designer.  Having more ideas than I knew what to do with, having more designs than all of Paris had in fabric, it seemed.  So be patient, Marinette.  Keep creating, even just sketching, and some day physical material won’t be a concern.”

[ladymagique-archive]

If nothing else, she hadn’t expected the sudden vote of confidence from, of all people, one of the designers she admired most in the city, if not the most successful designer in France. It was surprising considering she’d always viewed the other, among other popular designers as walled off and impersonal if just from their experience compared to her own, but...it was pleasant.  A smile wrote itself across her expression, bringing warmth to her eyes. “Thank you, Monsieur. I’ll keep working hard at it.” It was a promise perhaps to both him and herself, giving a surprised revival to her own minute determination. “It’ll give me plenty of things to work on when I have the materials, for sure.” Perhaps a subtle enough joke, but she gave a small laugh at it regardless. 

[dicksleuth]

Trouble? Oh right. He was pretending to be in distress. Sherlock shook his head. “No, everything seems to be fine now.” He gave a smile, which he hoped looked endearing. “I was rude earlier, my apologies.” He wasn’t actually but he was trying to make nice. Gain this woman’s trust.

[ladymagique-archive]

She hadn’t expected an apology-- it was pleasant, at least, for him to go out and offer one. Relaxing a bit, she was pleased it was wrapped up already; maybe she’d get to sleep a little earlier tonight and be up for school on time tomorrow. “No, it’s alright. Everyone gets a little snappy when they’re worked up or scared.” Ladybug would linger, though. “So you’re not in any danger anymore? Is there anything else I can help with?”