9-First Villains, Now Movies...Really?
Another day in Paris, France, another ordinary day walking to school with her best friend.
At least, that was what it was supposed to be for her.
She was already wiping the leftover tears that were slightly streaming down her face. That dream she had really got to her.
"I can't believe that dream showed you him coming into your now dusted-filled clean room and left a note for you until he hid it when Demian found him there." Jesabel—in her alter-ego and talking in her disguised kewpie doll voice—said, while sipping on a coffee she and Ann got from the coffee shop. Ann nods while sipping on her morning drink, "Yeah…" She paused for a brief moment while looking down at her coffee cup, "Not gonna lie, it felt real—too real. Like, I could almost smell the lemon polish from the manor's halls." Her fingers tightened around the cup. "Dang." Jesabel muttered while shaking her head slightly, "Dreams can be jerks like that."
The two then hear Buffy squeak in Ann's K-Con jacket pocket, «You don't think Damian's going to find out and tell the others, do you?» Ann shook her head softly, "Nah. Knowing Demian all awfully too well, he's not. Because he's just going to be glad that I left." Jesabel nods, "Yeah, besides, even if they do put two and two together, there's a zero chance they'd try and find her." Ann nods, "Besides, how can they? They barely know anything about me." She chuckles, "Heck, I wouldn’t even be surprised if none of them know my age now." Buffy sighs in relief, «Well, that’s good to know…and sad, honestly.»
When Ann translated it to Jesabel, she shrugs, "It is, but much like that one song, if it's meant to be, it's meant to be. Besides, the last thing we need to deal with is..." she hesitated, glancing at Ann, "...certain billionaire families who will probably chain you like a dog." Fortunately, Ann took it as a joke, and just laughed at it, "Yeah, no way in the Lazarus Pit do I want that." The two laugh while Buffy just shakes his tiny head in amazement. 'Gee, I'm glad Ann has them in her life.' He thought to himself, 'Though it's sure surprising that humans have odd, yet somewhat interesting traits that make them special in the world we're living in today.'
"Anyway," Jesabel starts, sounding a little serious and surprise after remembering how Ann explained it to her earlier this morning, "I still can't believe that dream of yours suddenly showed him letting you be free as a bird like that." Ann nods, "I know. Normally, he would've told Bruce—sorry, Mr. Wayne, about it the second he saw it." She sighs, "But I guess dreams are dreams, they don't follow logic." Jesabel nods in agreement while sipping her coffee.
'Still, Jes was right about one thing, it was shocking how even in dreams, the people you care about who care about you as well still try to protect you.' Ann thought as she pulled the golden pocket watch Alfred once gave her—the one Damian never found—from her jacket, tracing its worn engravings.
She will never forget what Alfred wrote in that note for her. Dream or what actually did happen that she didn't know of.
Ann was tossing and turning, then turning and tossing on her bed, her bed sheets tangled like old cassette tapes unraveled.
Her eyes opened to see she was back in her old bedroom. The small closet-sized non-spacious, room in the West Wing she used to stay in the Wayne family mansion. 'Oh, real funny, Dream.' She thought, unfazed. The room felt colder than usual, the air thick with the smell of old wax and loneliness. She looked at her desk, where she left that farewell note for Alfred. Seeing that it's gone.
'Oh, he must've already read it,' she thought while a smile formed on her face, feeling glad that Alfred knew she loved him. She sat up, the floorboards beneath her feet feeling strangely solid for a dream. She then glanced toward the door with an unfazed expression, expecting the familiar sound of Titus's growls coming in her room.
But the door creaked open. It wasn't Titus. It was Alfred.
'Alfie? What's he doing back here? He read my note, didn't he?' Confused at what he's doing back here, she watches as he the old man stepped into her abandoned room—his polished shoes kicking up dust motes that swirled in the afternoon light slicing through the walls. He carried a folded paper, fingers trembling slightly as he placed it atop her bare desk. She floated closer, catching the scent of Earl Grey and gun oil clinging to his waistcoat.
The note read: 'Miss Marcella, wherever you are—know that this old man’s greatest regret is not seeing the signs sooner. But know that I am proud of you for fleeing this gilded cage'. Ann's eyes widened at this. She knew Alfred had gotten her note, but she never expected this—him acknowledging her disappearance so openly, let alone approving of it. She sees him write more, 'Though we may never meet again, I hope you find the peace Gotham could never offer you.' He hesitated before adding, 'You take good care of yourself. I love you, dear child.'
'...Alfie.' Ann thought, her ghostly form trembling as she saw Alfred's normally composed face crumple for just a second—before he straightened his tie and wiped his eyes. Her eyes started watering. 'Alfie, I—' Just then, Damian's voice echoed down the hall—cold, impatient.
"Pennyworth? Father's looking for you." Alfred swiftly tucked the note into his vest pocket just as Damian entered the room. Damian scanned the dust-covered space with narrowed eyes—lingering on the empty shelves where Ann's awards once sat. "Why are you in this guest room?" Damian asked stiffly. Alfred adjusted his cufflinks, schooling his expression. "Merely making sure this room will be tidy for guests who will be here when they need somewhere to stay, Master Damian." Damian scoffed, kicking at a loose floorboard—the one Ann used to hide sketches under. "Pointless. No one stays here." Alfred's lips thinned. "Indeed." The words hung heavy as Damian stalked out. Alfred exhaled, patting his vest pocket once before following—leaving Ann alone with the ghost of her past. The dream dissolved like ink in water.
She sighs, relieved that Damian didn't find Alfred's note, not even taking a second glance at wondering who's room it was—even though she used to sleep there every night. But she guesses that's Damian for you. He doesn't care where she sleeps, just as long as she's out of his way.
But then suddenly, she felt someone grab her from behind. "Hey! What the—"
"Freak?!" Now she wakes up to see she's still in her room.
Parisian dawn bled gray through the thin curtains of Ann’s spacious and cozy apartment, the scent of yesterday’s chamomile tea still clinging to the air. Buffy, her ghost-bat kwami, sleeping peacefully in his tiny hammock strung near the radiator, emitted soft, ultrasonic snores only Ann could interpret as contentment. She sighs, rubbing her temples where the dream’s grip still lingered—phantom fingers tightening around her ribs. But as she rubbed her eyes, she felt that they were tears—real ones—trailing down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away with the back of her hand, clenching her jaw as she forced herself to sit up. 'Okay, maybe I should have some tea before going to school...' She thought as she swung her legs off the bed and heads to make her morning fix.
'But even after having my tea, I can STILL remember that dream.' Ann thought, still cannot get over what Alfred wrote before hiding it from Damian. She glances at Jesabel, who was walking beside her, happily sipping on her favorite coffee—black with five sugars, extra caramel drizzle—humming to the song blasting from her headphones. Jesabel catches her glance and nudges her softly, "Still thinking about that dream?" Ann nods slightly, taking another sip of her own coffee. Jesabel nudges her again, "Hey, listen. Dream-Alfred was right, you know. You are free now." Ann exhales slowly, her fingers unconsciously tracing the outline of the golden pocket watch hidden in her jacket pocket—Alfred's last gift, the one Damian never found. "Yeah," she murmurs, forcing a small smile, "just...weird how dreams make you relive things you thought you buried." Jesabel snorts, "Tell me about it."
Ann then sighs and rubs her temple a second time. 'Even the tea didn't help for once...good thing Mr. Costa from the coffee shop offered an espresso-filled chocolate chip muffin along with an espresso-filled coffee.' She thought, taking a sip of the coffee and eating the muffin. 'Huh. Now I'm beginning to see why Drake prefers coffee over tea. I guess it couldn't hurt to have that as a stress-relief backup in case the tea doesn't work.' She thought, now seeing why Tim Drake drinks coffee every morning—even though it was probably because of his insomnia. But she now gets how good coffee is to help with stress just like tea nonetheless.
When she and Jesabel both finally arrived to school—much to her relief—they saw a lot of adults with the children, which made Ann remember and realize something.
'Crud. I forgot. Today's Parent's Career Day. Where parents come into school and tell the staff, students, and students' parents what they do for a living.' She thought, remembering what Mr. Bustier said yesterday. She then shrugs, 'No big deal. I'll just tell them my folks are working abroad and can't make it.' She thought as she and Jesabel entered the school building.
"Let me guess. You're going to pull the abroad work card?" Jesabel whispered. "How'd you know?" Ann asked with a smirk. Jesabel chuckles with a shrug, "Lucky guess."
"What about you? Certainly you can't tell them that your folks are literally supervillains." Ann hissed back as they slipped past the crowded hallway. "No problem. 'Kenzie made a plan for something like this, because well, knowing her, she's always preparing me for some things like this." She then shows her a transcript of the voice message from her mother Harley with her name labeled 'Ma'.
"Mom's is her past career. Says she helps people with some issues that happen both at work and at home. You know, the basic stuff." Jesabel grinned, tapping her phone screen where Harley Quinn's alias—"Dr. Quinton, Licensed Therapist"—glowed in a neat script. "We would've had dad's too, but it was honestly hard to decide what kind of occupation would fit him. Besides..." She paused, leaning closer to Annabelle. "You know how much he hates telling in detail about the "clown makeup business"." Ann nods, "That's fair. And understanding...And let me guess, those were 'Kenzie's words about Mr. J?" Ann asked. Jesabel nods, "Yup." Ann shrugs, "Figures." Jesabel chuckles, "I know, right? But hey, it'll pass."
When they got to class and sat down, their teacher asked if any of their parents were coming, "Sorry, Ms. Bustier. My ma and pop couldn't make it. Ma is busy with another patient and pop is... overseeing acquisitions," Jesabel said smoothly, leaning back in her chair. Ann followed suit, "My guardian is abroad—work commitments." She kept her tone neutral, avoiding the collective stares. Marinette Dupain-Cheng shot her a sympathetic glance, while Chloé Bourgeois snorted loudly from the front. "How shocking." "Hey, that's a copyright, Bourgeois." Jesabel said, wagging her finger. "Don't want you getting a lawsuit from Static Shock now, would we?" Ann added, making the people in the class laugh. Chloé huffs. "Whatever."
"Good one." Alya grinned from her desk, adjusting her glasses. "Static Shock is original." "Truth." Ann and Jesabel both said in unison. Jesabel added, "Unlike some rip-offs." Ann nodded, her gaze drifting toward the window. Outside, the Parisian skyline shimmered under a rare patch of sunlight, a nice change away from the dream she endured. '...I wonder if that dream of Alfred writing that note was true...' Ann thought as she drummed her fingers against the desk absentmindedly.
She then snaps out of it when Jesabel nudges her, making her focus on what Marinette's father, Tom Dupain, explains to the class and their folks about his work-life, "My day begins at 4 a.m. every morning because the bakery opens at 7. You think that the life of a baker is pretty routine, making the same pastries, rolls, cakes... but actually, it's different everyday. One day someone might order a cake in the shape of the Eiffel Tower, and another day you might..." As he goes on and on about his work-life, Ann still goes deep in her thoughts. 'Alfie, I wonder if you still miss me...' She thought as she continued drumming her fingers against the desk.
She snaps out of it when she notices Adrien sulking. "Hey, are you okay?" She whispers to him. He sighs, "Yeah...just wondering if my father will come...But...I don't think he is..." Ann smiles softly, "Hey, it's his loss. 'Sides, you have friends who are always by your side, even when you're hurt in an empty alleyway." Though she did use one of her memories as an example, that made Adrien smile knowing that she was right that he has friends who are always there for him no matter what. "Ann's right, dude." Nino said, nudging his shoulder. "Even if your old man's a no-show, we got your back." Adrien's lips quirked into a small, grateful smile. Ann leaned back, watching as Marinette's father gestured animatedly while saying, "Marinette will come around and pass out some croissants baked fresh this morning." Marinette then passes out the croissants to all while Ms. Bustier says aloud, "Thank you, Mr. Dupain. Now, let's meet Alya's mom, who is head chef at the Grand Paris hotel, owned by our mayor, Mr. Bourgeois."
Marinette gives one each for Adrien and Nino, Adrien smiles gratefully at her, which makes her smile back before she hands one for Ann and Jesabel. "Close, but good save there, Annie." Jesabel whispers to her, "Honestly didn't expect you to use that as an example." Ann shrugs, "Eh, it's a universal truth." She whispers back before taking a bite out of the croissant—the buttery, flaky layers dissolving on her tongue with a warmth that felt like home. Her new home.
Ann then notices Chloé's bag about to hit the floor. Fortunately, she was quick enough to catch it on time before its contents fell and met the floor, and placed it on Chloé's desk. Chloé's dad, the mayor, smiles, "Thank you, miss..."
"Annabelle Anderson, sir." Ann said, sliding Chloé’s designer bag onto the desk with practiced nonchalance. Mayor Bourgeois beamed, oblivious to his daughter’s scowl. "Ah, such finest manners! Such politeness! A rarity among youths these days." Chloé rolled her eyes, snatching her bag back. "She’s just showing off, Daddy." Ann ignored her, focusing instead on the croissant crumbs dusting her fingers—anything to avoid the mayor’s impressed gaze that reminded her uncomfortably of Gotham galas where she would watch the Wayne family were in on the TV while she was in the mansion with Alfred. 'Honestly, looking back at that, I'm just glad they never bothered to introduce me to the press. That madness would've been worse than Hawk Moth's entire akuma roster.'
Just then, she notices Adrien's motion to her, "Father just messaged. Turned out he had a call from one of the corporations that were wanting to partner with him. And it seems it's going to take all day from the looks of it." "Seriously?" Nino whispered, "Was that why he couldn't make it?" Adrien shrugs, "Well, when he puts it that way, it actually makes sense, because look." They looked to see the screenshots of his father talking with the heads of the company, his assistant Nathalie took a photo of, showing Gabriel looking at something on a tablet. "Whoa." Nino said, "That's awesome." Ann smiles, "Nice that your father took time to tell you." Adrien nods, "Yeah. Oh, and he was also wanting to see if you and Jessa are interested in coming over for dinner tomorrow." Ann raises a brow as she and Jesabel were surprised at this sudden invitation, "Seriously?" Jesabel leans forward, "What's the occasion?"
"Well, he's saying it's to 'get to know your classmates better,'" Adrien admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. Jesabel’s grin turned sharp, nudging Ann’s shoulder. "Oh-ho. Daddy Agreste’s got a guest list now, huh?" Ann flicked a crumb at her. "Shut up." But her mind raced—Gabriel Agreste’s sudden interest prickled her instincts like static before a storm.
Gabriel Agreste's invitation gnawed at Ann like a stubborn splinter. She glanced at Jesabel, who wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Oh, don't give me that look," Ann muttered under her breath. Jesabel smirked, scribbling on a napkin in Korean translated to: RICH PEOPLE DINNER = FREE FOOD. Ann rolled her eyes but pocketed the note—her stomach betrayed her with a traitorous growl.
Surrendering, and wanting to have Jesabel stop nudging her, "Why not? We'll be there." Ann said quickly, watching Adrien's face light up and nods in agreement as he texts his father.
Ann then sighs, thinking, 'You know, It's funny...how throughout my time back in Gotham, none of them even bothered to notice where I went or who I befriended… Oh well. That's their loss.' She chuckles a bit, remembering the times of how she spends her days with her best friend and her parents while the Wayne family were either busy doing their own usual things or going to fancy galas and Alfred was out visiting relatives.
The classroom hummed with parental anecdotes, but Ann’s focus snagged on the way Adrien’s shoulders slumped when his phone buzzed again—another message from his father, no doubt. She recognized that posture. It was the same one she’d worn for years in Wayne Manor’s hallways, waiting for someone to notice her existence beyond Alfred’s occasional tea-time check-ins.
Jesabel leaned over, her whisper barely audible. “You’re doing that thing again.” Ann blinked. “What thing?” “The ‘I’m mentally dissecting everyone’s trauma’ stare. Dial it back, Batman Jr.” Ann snorted, flicking a crumb at her. “Shut up.” But Jesabel was right. Old habits died hard. She quickly shook it off, and turned back on time to hear their teacher announce, "Next on the list, Jessamine Quinton's mother. Who may not be here to speak in person, but her daughter Jessamine has her voice message to tell us about her career."
Jesabel rose smoothly, her expression carefully neutral as she tapped her phone. Harley Quinn's recorded voice, softened into warm professionalism, filled the room. "Hiya, sweetpea's classmates! Dr. Quinton here. I specialize in resolving interpersonal conflicts and emotional rehabilitation—helping folks untangle their knots, y'know? It's messy work sometimes, but seeing someone find their smile again?" A soft chuckle, genuine. "Worth every late night." The class smiles appreciatively. Alya whispered, "She sounds nice." Ann nods. 'Only to those who don't know she's Harley...Well, that, and she and Mr. J were somewhat nice to me since Jes and I were kids. Not sure how that's even possible, but who am I to question about it? I'm not the Riddler.' Ann thought with a slight chuckle.
When Jesabel sat back down with Ann, Ann whispered to her, "Nicely done, Jessa." Jesabel grinned back, "Thanks."
"Now, Ann," Ms. Bustier announced. "Your guardian couldn't attend, but perhaps you'd like to share what they do?" Ann mentally froze and panicked, until she then thought of something. With a quick nod, she stood smoothly. "He's a caretaker—oversees operations, handles conflicts discreetly. Sometimes he's abroad, resolving... delicate situations." She kept her tone neutral, fighting the smirk threatening to surface as she imagined Alfred’s reaction to this vague description of his work.
The classroom hummed with polite interest. Chloé scoffed loudly, twirling a strand of hair. "How quaint." Ann ignored her, focusing instead on the way Marinette was nodding encouragingly, her fingers tapping a rhythm against her sketchbook. Ms. Bustier smiled. "Thank you, Ann. That sounds quite wonderful of how your guardian helps others." Ann sat down, exhaling through her nose. Jesabel bumped her shoulder while tapping her finger in Morse code. 'Delicate situations? Really?' Ann smirked, tapping her fingers back to her. 'What? Alfred did defuse that glitter bomb in the kitchen last year.' Jesabel rolled her eyes, tapping another phrase. 'That was one time.' Ann nods, tapping, 'Still counts though.' Jesabel quietly chuckles, tapping back, 'Whatever you say, Annie.'
"Next, Sabrina's father, a policeman. Officer Roger!"
"I've been a police officer for 15 years, and I firmly believe that every citizen is innocent until proven guilty." Ann smiles, pleased that there are some officers who are more decent unlike the ones back in Gotham. She watches Sabrina beam with pride at her father's words, the earnestness in Officer Roger's voice a stark contrast to Commissioner Gordon's weary caution. Beside her, Jesabel doodles tiny mallet-wielding bats in her notebook margin. "Nice." Ann whispers. "Thanks." Jesabel whispers back.
The two then look at Jesabel's phone to see an update on Word on the Streets of Gotham, where it shows VILLAINS STILL TICKED OFF ABOUT PARISIAN VILLAIN RIPPING ALL OFF.
The two quietly snicker at that while Ann whispers, "And yet Hawk Moth thinks he's original." Jesabel nods, "He's got no clue." Ann adds, "He's a cheap knockoff. Like those bootleg merch stalls." Jesabel covers her mouth to stifle a laugh.
Jesabel then gets a message from her friends in WhatsAppening.
Jamie: We heard about your new task in Paris. This wank ripping off our folks, who is he exactly?
Jesabel: Hello to you too, Jamie-Lee. Annie informed me who he is since she's the one who saw him in the second round of the Stone Heart attack. He calls himself Hawk Moth. His akumatizations are dead ringers for our folks' rejects—Riddler's puzzles, Scarecrow's fear toxins, all watered down.
Maya: Some villain this Hawk Moth person is. Does he even know how to properly intimidate a toddler? Our pop could teach him a lesson or two, and he'd still fail.
Matthew: I second that emotion, sister. This Hawk Moth joker wouldn't last a day in Gotham. Our pops would eat him for breakfast.
Rossana: Mi papi y hermana mayor are both fuming. Saying that Hawk Moth is a "disgrace to villainy with his knock-off tactics." And you guys don't want to know what papi said in Spanish—I had to wash my ears with holy water.
Sandon: My girls Flora and Fauna are trying to calm their mama Isley down. She’s ranting about ‘ecological plagiarism’ and how Hawk Moth’s ‘pathetic vine puppets’ are an insult to botanical warfare. It was bad enough when my old man ranted on and on about how that Hawk Moth guy made that one akuma villain who was copying his cold gun—but now, him making a villain copying Ivy? I gotta tell you guys, THAT set her off.
Sarafina: Father keeps muttering about ‘substandard fear toxins.’ Claims Hawk Moth’s fear-bringing-themed akuma "insults the craft." I may not be into bringing fear to those afraid like he does, but even I know Hawk Moth's fear-bringing villainous creation is...uninspired.
Jesabel: Hold on a sec, gang.
Annabelle is added to the group chat
Annabelle: Hey everyone. Yeah, Hawk Moth's a joke. The last one we faced was what Jes called it, a "Walking Etch-A-Sketch" rip-off. Nathaniel drew it better BEFORE purification.
Jamie: Oh my, "Corporate Brochure." I love her. Jes, you’ve found a keeper.
Ann quietly giggled while Jesabel rolled her eyes playfully.
Jesabel: Careful, Jamie. If she gets any more famous, she might actually start liking the attention.
Jamie: No promises. ;)
Sandon: So, Ann, was it? Jes says you’re a painter. Send us something. We gotta see if you’ve got that Gotham grit or if you’ve gone all ‘soft’ in the City of Lights.
Maya: Maybe wait for that another time, Sandon.
Matthew: This Hawk Moth person is a cheap knockoff. Like those bootleg merchandise stalls near the Bowery.
Rossana: Papi’s threatening to do the same shtick he did to Batman onto Hawk Moth when he finds him. But I had to scold him not to.
Jesabel: Glad you did so. I don't think the people of Paris are ready to witness that.
Annabelle: Agreed. Already shuddering at the thought of it.
Sandon: I'm with you, Ann. Just thinking of Bane doing the "breaking another back" shtick there? Parisians would need therapy for years.
Sarafina: Even I can't catch up to that when I become a therapist.
Jamie: I don't suppose any therapist in the world would even be able to handle it. Not even Dr. Quinton.
Ann stifled a laugh behind her hand while Jesabel rolled her eyes playfully.
Jesabel: Very funny, Jamie-Lee. But seriously, Hawk Moth's knock-offs are embarrassing. Annie dodged one yesterday that ripped off Two-Face's coin gimmick—only it was a literal coin flip deciding if someone got glitter or glue dumped on them.
Maya: ...Is it too late to say that father just saw that message and is now ready to find Hawk Moth himself? He's ranting about how unforgivable Hawk Moth is for creating an abomination of a super villain who uses "glitter and glue" as a primary weapon. He's currently pacing the living room in a bathrobe, muttering something about "properly calibrated gas masks."
Jesabel: Tell Two-Face, respectfully, that Paris isn't Gotham. We're handling this quietly. No scorched-earth tactics.
Annabelle: Please. Hawk Moth's incompetence is almost comforting. ALMOST. His glitter-glue monstrosity barely stained my utility belt.
Jesabel: Same for me and my mallet. Sadly, I can't say the same for Cat Noir. The poor kitty was so glittered up, I almost wished I had a camera just to take that pic and send it to you guys.
Sandon: Wouldn't be surprised if you let out your laugh. Your laugh is like a combination of both that one legendary grim reaper back in the Victorian Era and your old man.
Annabelle: Oh, she did. Full cackle. Ladybug nearly dropped her yo-yo. Fortunately, it also did make that rip-off akumatized villain drop the thing that the akuma was in. Ladybug caught it on time before that rip-off wannabe could get a hold of it again.
Rossana: Well, there's a bright side, at least.
Flora & Fauna were added to the chat
'Oh, looks like the Isley sisters are now tagging in.' Ann mused as Flora and Fauna’s chat bubble popped up, their profile pictures twin blossoms—one violet-blue, one crimson red.
Flora: Just scrolled and read through the whole thing.
Fauna: Honestly, ‘ecological plagiarism’ is too kind. If my mother saw these ‘vine puppets,’ she’d probably try to compost the entire city of Paris just to scrub the embarrassment from the earth.
Flora: Precisely. Who uses a singular, static vine when you could have a sentient, predatory jungle? This Hawk Moth has the vision of a blind mole. He’s not a villain; he’s a themed café manager.
Annabelle: Odd way of putting it about Hawk Moth, but I get it. He’s basically running a themed café where the only thing on the menu is ‘Mid-Life Crisis’ and ‘Generic Revenge’.
Flora: Exactly.
Matthew: I agree with Flora and Fauna, and their argument—Hawk Moth couldn’t even plagiarize right.
Maya: I concur. Though I must say, Hawk Moth's ineptitude makes our fathers' theatrics look Shakespearean by comparison.
Jamie: Indeed, Maya. Speaking of ineptitude—remember when Batty went up against that ‘Mr. Twister’ wannabe last month? Even *he* had better wind effects than Hawk Moth’s ‘Stormy Weather.’
Jesabel: So true. I was just glad 'Kenzie sent me the footage later, because watching that on live news footage? I nearly choked on my popcorn.
Annabelle: I saw it too. And I gotta say, Mr. Twister at least had style. Hawk Moth’s Stormy Weather? As much as I don't want to talk down about what happened to the people I go to the school I'm in with, with all due respect, it looked like she raided Party City during liquidation.
Flora: She does.
Fauna: Doesn't she?
Jamie: Very.
Jesabel: BRB with you guys. Been messaging in the middle of a Parent Career Day presentation, and last thing Annie and I both need is Ms. Bustier giving us the ‘disappointed’ look. And I gotta tell you guys, a look like that hits harder than a Bane-punch.
Annabelle: True. Talk later.
Sandon: K, Cya.
After that, Ann quickly bangs her fist on a desk, breaking up a small spat, making her and Jesabel snap back to reality. "Apologies." Ann said, "Forced a habit. I'm just not a fan of people fighting for whatever the heck is going on." Jesabel nods, "What she said. I was a witness through all of it back then...Come to think of it, what happened? Did we miss something?" She asked while she and Ann put their phones back down.
"Chloé's bracelet got missing, Mayor Bourgeois demanded Marinette to show her bag, and Mr. Dupain tells him that it's not happening." Alya explained.
"...." Ann and Jesabel were silent at first, until they started bursting out laughing—and luckily for Jesabel, hers was sane than her original laugh when she's not in her alter-ego and-or when she's Jesteria.
"Ha! 'Nettie stealing something like a bracelet? That's rich, even for someone like her!" Jesabel snorted, gesturing toward Chloé, "If Marinette wanted jewelry, she'd design her own—better than whatever knockoff Bourgeois is flaunting." Ann nods in agreement while calming her laughter. 'I haven't laughed this much since I was with Jes and her family back home,' she thought, 'And this time, it didn't involve Mr. J's laughing gas.' "Jessa's right, Chloé." Adrien said, partially agreeing with what Jesabel just said, "Marinette wouldn't steal."
"Surely the bracelet is around here someplace." Ms. Bustier said gently, scanning the classroom floor as Chloé and Sabrina were both looking not-too pleased. 'Keep that face all you want, Bourgeois. Even MacKenzie Hollister from the Dork Diaries series has more class than you, aside from her lousy little shticks.' Ann thought bitterly.
"It probably just rolled out of her bag or something!" Marinette said. Alya thinks for a second, "If I were her bracelet, I'd try and get as far away as possible from that crazy brat too." Marinette, Ann, and Jesabel laugh at that. "Yeah, and if I was her bracelet, I'd rather be on the wrist of a common criminal." Ann adds, chuckling softly. Jesabel nods, "Ditto."
Marinette then thought of something, "Hey, Nino's been filming everything this whole time. We can see what really happened!"
Nino nods, and shows them the video footage. When they speed the video up a bit, they see Sabrina holding the bracelet. "Well, there's your proof." Jesabel said, crossing her arms.
"Yes. But I gave it back straight after!" Sabrina explained. "Chloé, why don't you take a look in your BFF's bag?" Marinette suggested, as she too, crossed her arms. "Are you saying I'm a thief?!" Asked Sabrina. "Nah," said Jesabel, "Chloé's the one calling people thieves without any proof. We're simply going from what's on the video." Ann nods, "It's kinda like a world's greatest detective. They find evidence, they review it, they see who did it, and ask why." Though while she didn't want to use that as an example as much as it pains her, someone has to explain to these kids how basic forensics work. Or, in this case, finding a simple lost bracelet.
"It is pretty logical." Nino said with a shrug, seeing Ann's point. Sabrina growls, then knocks Nathaniel's sketchbook, revealing a drawing of the bracelet. They looked surprised at this. "Well, there's something you don't see every day." Jesabel said. "Yes, I did sketch the bracelet, but I didn't do anything else!" said Nathaniel.
While looking not surprised seeing the mayor demanding Nino to give him the video tape, Jesabel nudges Ann for the third time, "Uh, Annie." Ann turned to see another villain Hawk Moth must've akumatized. 'Oh, great. Just what I need. A battle with a rip-off of Robocop.' Ann sighed inwardly.
The girls quickly sneaked out of the classroom, and quickly ran to the janitor's closet, not aware of Adrien quickly exiting out of the classroom himself, more focused on running to another room.
"Buffy, release your echo!"
Buffy quickly gets absorbed into her locket, transforming Ann to be her heroine persona, Shabaha Khuffashah.
Her clothes change, morphing around her body and turning into a black buttoned shirt and white fancy-looking suit—that is almost similar to what Alfred usually wears—that clings tightly. The material feels like the softest silk, but with the durability of the strongest steel. A black mask forms over her eyes, shaped like a bat's, allowing her to see everything with a heightened clarity, even in the dimmest of lights. Bat wings appear, extending from her back, made of a mysterious substance that seems to be a part of the shadow itself. Her bat ears twitch, tuning into the quiet whispers of the night that no human ear can catch. Ann's short hair turns into a long flowing mane, changing from dark royal purple to a brightening white that matches the color of the moon. Her eyes change from gunmetal-blue to a soot-black that almost looks like the eyes are pitch-black holes in her face. Her teeth sharpen, and she feels the strength of a creature that can fly into the night sky, unseen and unheard, swooping down on its prey. Finally magically appearing around her waist is a utility belt that holds tools she might need during her battles. After her transformation she strikes a pose as if she's bowing to her master.
And Jesabel, she reveals her natural green hair and uncovered gold and silver eyes, while her skin becomes the same color of white like her father, her makeup like her mother's, and her outfit being a combination of both of them. A shirt that's almost the same as her father's shirt but with the black and red colors like her mother's colors, her wine-purple blazer jacket that has diamonds patterns on the back with little 'HA's in them, her bottoms being a pair of black shorts and her pant legs being red on her left leg and black on her right leg, her boots being black wedge combat boots—due to her not being comfortable in heels like Diamond—then her black and red headband-'n'-bells (which of course, the bells don't jingle), and her weapon, a big mallet-hammer with a black spade on the bottom and the words on the mallet 'Who Can It Be Laughing Now? Not You!' written on it. Her face is hidden behind a mask that covers her eyes and nose, leaving her mouth visible. After that, she strikes a pose, like a Helen holding a croquette mallet from the popular musical Helens.
After the girls transformed to Shaba and Jesteria, they were about to head out, until they saw Jesabel's messages. Seeing how there's more from a few more people, who Ann could guess are more friends of Jesabel's.
Swift: Hey, sorry Juniper, Cree, Clayton, Aisha, Keiko, Melanie, and I missed out on the group chat.
Clayton: We just went through the whole thing. And just wanna let you know that, well...
Melanie: Our families are already flipping lids more than sheep fleeing from a wolf. Papi says if he sees a single 'glitter-bomb' in the news, he’s flying to Paris just to show that purple moth how a real theatrical explosion is handled.
Cree: And sure, I know how to swim in lakes, rivers, streams, and oceans, but dad wants me to take that advantage to track Hawk Moth through Paris' sewers—I mean sure, I swim there too, though I sometimes wish they clean them up sometimes, but I told him that's a stereo-typed route.
Jesabel: Cree, Uncle Croc needs to chill—Paris sewers are strictly Ladybug and Cat Noir territory. Tell him we’ve got this handled.
Aisha: If only that was easy. Even my dad is already filling all of my suitcases with armed you-know-whats and putting the little you-also-know-whats in zip-lock bags—all labeled 'Hair Products.'
Jesabel: Jeez, no offense Aisha, but Uncle Floyd needs to tone it down. You’re not going to war—Hawk Moth’s more of a nuisance than a threat.
Aisha: That's what I've been telling him. Besides, when was the first time I ever used any of those things on anyone? Never, that's when.
Juniper: At least you don't have to sit through your mother's little lesson on remembering every single holiday that is in and not in the calendars—along with which ones are in Paris—to properly 'celebrate' them with Hawk Moth...as if she's planning on a holiday-themed ambush.
Keiko: Tell me about it. Dad packed a lot on my end. Clothes, toiletries, boomerangs that he prepped up for me when I'm 'ready to bring Hawk Moth down', even my plush otter Seashelly.
Clayton: Dad even started encouraging me to use my powers. He keeps saying, 'A proper Clayface should be able to reshape Paris in their image.' Like I want to turn the Eiffel Tower into a giant mud sculpture.
Jesabel: That does sound like something uncle Karl would say. Listen—all of you—just breathe. Hawk Moth isn’t worth the escalation. Annie and I will deal with this with two partners of ours, and as soon this whole Hawk Moth ripping off our folks thing will be over, everything will be back as it was. Speaking of, Annie, these guys are Clayton, Clayface's son, Juniper, Calendar Girl's adopted daughter as Juniper corrects it, Aisha, Deadshot's stepdaughter he took in after a complicated situation happened...
Aisha: But luckily, that's something I can joke about now.
Jesabel: Melanie, Mirror Master's daughter, Cree, as you may know as the lab tested escapee with scales instead of her wonderful chocolate truffle skin—who's now adopted by Killer Croc—Keiko, Captain Boomerang's kid.
Keiko: Agender, pronouns they/them—just like dad’s boomerangs. No return policy.
Jesabel: And Swift, Reverse-Flash's kid.
Swift: Non-binary, pronouns they/them—same as speed. No brakes.
Annabelle: It's nice to meet you all. And also, yeah, I get how your folks must've felt after seeing how Hawk Moth is making villains that are a bit of rip-offs from them, though with all due respect, they really should get a hold of themselves.
Aisha: Tell us something we don't know. Dad’s already repainted his rifle case twice out of sheer frustration.
Keiko: And dad sharpened up the boomerangs he packed for me—like I'm suddenly going full lethal on some Parisian pigeon-themed villain.
Annabelle: So I can tell. But if it makes them feel a little better, and maybe not for any of us, Hawk Moth made another one. But this one this time is a ripoff of a film character.
Swift: You're kidding.
Jesabel: Nope. Heck I wouldn't be surprised if this one's supposed to be a rip-off of Robocop.
Clayton: Well that's just dumb.
Ann & Jesabel: Right?
Swift: Dad just peeked through my messages—he’s choking on his coffee laughing. Says Hawk Moth’s gonna regret ripping off Detroit’s finest.
'That's a first from Reverse-Flash.' Ann thought, surprised that those are the words from the Reverse-Flash himself.
Clayton: So did dad. When he saw that Hawk Moth ripped off Robocop, he laughed so hard he melted into a pile of mud and had to reform.
Jesabel: That does sound like something Uncle Karl would do.
Sandon: Hey, sorry, all our folks are all at the Hall of Doom, and when one of them, Uncle Clock King, peeked through my phone, he told them and they're all either gawking, laughing, or just ranting how Hawk Moth's just making things worse. And one said it was bad enough to make them want to fly to Paris just to show him how to actually make a villain. But we told them no. Let the kids handle it, right?
Annabelle: Exactly. No need for a full-scale Gotham invasion over a guy who thinks purple butterflies are a personality trait. Also, if anyone doesn't mind me asking, who's Edith and RJ?
Clayton: Oh, Edith is Meredith, Merlyn’s adopted daughter. We call her that for short. And RJ, that's Ramona. Riddler's daughter. But he decided to give her RJ when he got her the latest phone.
Melanie: Short for Riddler Jr.
Swift: Except Ramona hates being called RJ. Only her dad gets away with it. She's this close to giving him an actual puzzle box filled with glitter bombs.
Jesabel: I was wondering what happened to her. And now seeing that, something tells me that Uncle Ridds is not gonna be hearing the end of it. Even when trying to throw the usual riddles left and right.
Annabelle: I can already see that. I almost feel sorry for the guy...almost.
Cree: Same. Anyway, we'll let you guys get to defeating Hawk Moth's latest rip-off. We'll keep in touch.
Jesabel: Thanks, Cree. Talk to you guys later.
After that, they headed out to see that the rip-off of Robocop had already caused havoc to the school.
Before the two can react, Shaba gets a call from her comms. She answers as she and Jesteria both hear Ladybug, "Shaba, Jesteria, Rogercop is at City Hall. Meet us there ASAP." Ladybug says. "We're on our way." Shaba says, hanging up. Jesteria looks at Shaba, "City Hall? That's where Mayor Bourgeois is." Shaba nods, "Exactly. Hawk Moth knows what he's doing." Shaba carries Jesteria on her back once again, and the two fly on their way to City Hall.
While on their way, "Jeez. Who knew that in a couple of minutes that rip-off Robocop already made your two partners the nation's most wanted felons? If you ask me, ma and pop would be both cheesed and proud." Jesteria said. "True," Shaba said, "but the thing is, Ladybug and Cat Noir aren't felons. They haven't done anything. And everyone knows they can't go and point fingers at people without any kind of evidence. And as much as I myself want to go and defend the two in the Court of Law, it will be tough since that rip-off Robocop is the Chief of Justice."
"Man, if Superman was here, he would've been willing to aid us." Jesteria grumbled. "I know." Shaba said, "I mean, I want that too, but I can't let my whole new life and identity be ruined." She said, knowing that Mr. Wayne and his kids would probably find her since Mr. Wayne and Superman himself are friends. She knew that she couldn't risk it. "True." Jesteria said, "And besides, you've got your own life now." Shaba nodded, knowing that her best friend was right.
When the two finally get to the City Hall, Shaba phases them through into the building, just in time to see the rip-off Robocop and Ladybug. "You got justice and revenge all mixed up, Rogercop!" Ladybug said, before summoning her Lucky Charm. Seeing that Ladybug's Lucky Charm is an oven mitt, Shaba quickly whispers the usual words at a time like this, "Foresight." Her eyes glowed briefly with a soft blue light, and suddenly she knew. She sees the future in her mind's eye, the trajectory of how to defeat the rip-off version of Robocop. Closing her eyes, she now knows what she and her partners need to do. She turns to Jesteria, whispering to her, "Follow my lead." Jesteria nods.
While the two were busy planning to end Robocop's rip-off, the said rip-off of Robocop was busy shooting at Ladybug and Cat Noir. 'Annie wasn't kidding when she explained the akuma is in the cheap Robocop rip-off's whistle. Lucky Bug and Kit-Cat better hurry up and back us up here with this plan.' Jesteria thought bitterly as she watched Shaba quickly weaving through the chaos, her invisibility flickering as she dodged laser blasts. She then gets smoke bombs out of her utility belt, tossing them at Rogercop's feet. "Think fast!" Shaba yelled, her voice echoing strangely as she phased through a marble column, reappearing behind Rogercop. "Come on." Jesteria said, taking the mitt Ladybug summoned, getting another mitt belt she found, and getting a bracelet her father sent her from Gotham.
Cat Noir quickly uses his Cataclysm on the floor, trapping Rogercop, Ladybug quickly covers Rogercop's hands with the mitts Jesteria made for her, Shaba quickly takes the whistle and tosses it to Jesteria, causing her to break it with her mallet, and the akuma flies out. Ladybug quickly purifies it and releases the butterfly. After she tosses her Lucky Charm up in the air, "Miraculous Ladybug!" Everything goes back to normal. Officer Roger is back to normal.
"Pound it!/Ahsant!" After that, Shaba and Jesteria headed back home.
"Man, am I beat." Jesabel groaned, collapsing onto her bed in their cozy and spacious apartment, her blonde wig discarded carelessly on the floor. Ann sat on her couch, feeling beat herself while Buffy was munching on his dried cricket. Ann sighed, rubbing her temples where a headache was forming. The phantom sting of Rogercop's laser blasts still echoed in her muscles, and the scent of ozone lingered in her nose despite the lavender-scented candles she'd lit. She watched Jesabel unwind, her thoughts drifting back to the last part of her dream—the letter Alfred had left her before hiding it from Damian. 'Thank the gods he did that. Don't want them finding me so soon...'
As she thought that, she holds her old locket she still has, before Jesabel flopped beside her, smelling of ozone and cheap hairspray. “You’ve got that look again. Talia-brain?” Ann didn’t meet her eyes. “No. Not that this time. It's just..." "It's the letter Alfred wrote for you and hid it from Demian?" Jesabel asked softly, making Ann pause before nodding silently. Jesabel sighed before pulling her into a side hug, "Listen, don't worry about it. Alfie knows what he's doing." Ann let out a shaky sigh, leaning into the embrace. "I know. But—" Jesabel interrupted her with a playful flick to her forehead, "No buts. You're here, you're safe, and Alfred wouldn't let them find you until you're ready to face them and tell them what you want to say."
Ann chuckled weakly, rubbing her forehead. "You're right—Ow!" She yelped when Jesabel pinched her cheek. "Dang right I am." Jesabel grinned before flopping back onto the couch, grabbing the remote to turn on the TV, flipping through channels until she landed on the action channel where it shows Blade. Seeing the first film beginning where the two people are walking into a butcher shop where a dance club is, Ann's eyes lit up, "Really? Blade?" Jesabel shrugged, "Why not? I hear after the third film, they're showing that trilogy action-cult film you've been dying to watch." "Death Arise?" Ann gasped. "Wait, seriously?" Jesabel nodded, "Yeah. After Blade 2 and Blade Trinity." "Oh freak yeah!"
Buffy squeaked in wonder, making Ann chuckle and translate it to Jesabel, "He's asking what the Blade movies are about." "Oh, that's simple to answer." Jesabel said, then telling Buffy, "Basically, Blade's a half-human-half-vampire bad-a, who hunts vampires and kicks their butts all while looking cool as heck." Buffy blinked before squeaking again. Ann chuckled, "He says Blade sounds like a good guy." "Yeah, well, except for the part where he's technically a vampire, but unlike the ones he kills, he's a good guy." Jesabel said before hitting play, letting it continue on the butcher-club scene.
"Thanks, Jes. This movie-marathon is just what I need." Ann muttered as Jesabel handed her a bag of white cheddar Smartfood popcorn—their favorite. The screen flickers with Blade’s opening fight, the bass-heavy soundtrack vibrating through the couch. Ann's fingers twitch toward her locket again before she forces them to grip the popcorn bag instead.
'Regardless of it all in that dream, I'm just glad Alfie understands...And thank the gods it's only just him, because the last thing I need is someone else finding it. worse, it could've been Demian and the rest of the Wayne pack.' She shudders at the thought of how the rest of her siblings would react if they knew she ran away—and worse—that she was Ghost Bat. 'That, and I don't have to deal with Alfred's disappointed looks—or worse—Bruce's awkwardness...I'm glad I left that burnt bridge behind.' She sighs as she watches Blade dispatch another vampire with effortless precision.
Jesabel snorted beside her. "Look at Sandon!" She pointed her spoon at Ann's phone screen, where McKenzie's latest update showed Sandon dramatically sprawled on a Gotham park bench, holding a wilting rose toward his skateboard. "That boy's gonna get himself murdered by Flora and Fauna before his old man even notices." Ann chuckled, the sound rusty but genuine. Buffy squeaked, quietly laughing while shaking his head then squeaks, «With all due respect, but Sandon really needs to stop with these nonstop flirts. Flora and Fauna are going to kill him.» Ann translates it to Jesabel, who just rolled her eyes. "Tell me something I don't know. Believe me, Uncle Snart's already prepped the ice puns for his funeral." "Ha! That'll be the day." Ann replied, shaking her head as she clicked off her phone.
Just then, they hear the Excess Hollywood host, a Ryan Seacrest type who has only one expression being in sunshine and rainbows, announce aloud in the Excess Hollywood's latest breaking story, "Scandal breaking today surrounding the famous Gotham family known as the Waynes."
"Seriously?" Jesabel muttered, looking unfazed while Ann groaned, not surprised that the 'breaking news' was about the people she spent every waking hour trying to forget, "Okay, who's in trouble now? And what did they do this time?" She questions sarcastically.
"Damian Wayne, the family's youngest, was found on a three-year-old CCTV footage causing an unforgivable scene said footage has caught, with no remorse of any kind."
"Wha--" Ann and Jesabel both said in unison while opening their soda bottles like beer bottles, looking surprised and confused with what the Ryan Seacrest type was talking about. Until the screen showed it.
"Footage shows the young Wayne taking an unidentified ten-year-old girl to a candy store, but instead, have his dog attack the girl and leave her to bleed in the alleyway all alone." The Ryan Seacrest type's voiced over as the footage showed ten-year-old Damian, his Great Dane, and the ten-year-old Marcella walking to the alleyway between the toy store and candy store, until Damian stopped, and mouthed something that read, 'Attack', which led to the dog lunging, attacking the girl, and then biting her ankle, leaving her bleeding on the ground. The Ryan Seacrest type's voice then said, "Half of every Gothamite, and all of Gotham General's doctors, nurses, and patients have been quick to organize."
The screen then showed the Gotham citizens and Gotham General patients all with signs and banners, shouting for justice for the "angel" and one of the doctors, the same one who had treated Ann's ankle back then, speaking into a microphone about the negligence and cruelty of the wealthy. "When we first heard and learned her family was actually the Waynes, we were shocked. But seeing the footage now, the lack of remorse on Damian Wayne's face is truly chilling," the doctor added, his voice dripping with fury and pity. The receptionist then walks in and added, "Gotham should be able to live its life with no brutality of any kind like Demian Wayne's heartless action and ruining this city's reputation."
The girls and Buffy were frozen in shock, and surprised. And when they finally blinked. "...Well, freak." Jesabel said. "I'm just glad I got out of there on time." Ann added.
Buffy squeaked. "He's asking what do we mean." Ann tells Jesabel before turning back to him, "It's a bit complicated to say, but to make it short and simple, since they showed Demian's cruelty onto me at that time, they could've found out about my old identity." Jesabel nodded and then added, "And if they know she was Marcella Wayne, then that messed up family would try to find Annie and drag her back, just to either say sorry or to make sure she doesn't tell the world that the Waynes are actually just a pack of broken people."
Letting all of that sink in, Buffy shook his head, «Humans like those Waynes are weird.» Ann laughs, "That they are, Buffy. But weird is a far cry from what’s happening on that screen."
After the scandal, it went back to Blade. "Skillet's album Freakshow-ing finally." Jesabel commented, leaning back into the cushions. The screen was filled with the rhythmic, stylized violence of the movie, but the atmosphere in the apartment had shifted. Ann chuckles as she grabs a box of Cheez-Its, "Still, glad I didn't leave a forwarding address. I can only imagine the chaos in the manor right now. Bruce probably hates that the 'family brand' is being dragged through the mud, and Damian... well, Damian probably thinks the world is simply too stupid to appreciate his tactical use of a Great Dane."
"You’re too generous, Annie. He probably thinks the dog didn't bite hard enough," Jesabel joked, though her eyes flickered to the screen where Blade was currently slicing through a vampire’s chest. She shifted, pulling a blanket over both of them. "Weird how they're now bringing it up last minute." Ann shrugs, "Who knows and who cares? As long as they stay in Gotham and I stay here, it’s just noise." Jesabel and Buffy both nod, and then went back to the movie, and their night was nothing but popcorn and fighting vampires.