Bad News, Kitty Cat

@troubleinleather from here

「 🎶」 – Gold eyes bore down into green and the shadow could feel the regret pouring from Blanc. It must be hard to look at an alternate version of your lover who is still alive and kicking. It wasn’t easy for Shato either. Every time he looked at Blanc his throat closed up and it felt like he had hands around it, claws digging into his flesh. “Tell me your alibi.” As much as he wanted to sneer he couldn’t. His voice was still soft, melodious, like someone playing a musical instrument.

“Tell me your alibi, and most importantly, tell me what you did to me? Every time I look at you I feel…..claws around my throat. I feel like I’m suffocating. Blanc, what did you do to the me that you loved…..love?” The question had been eating at him since he first heard that he had been killed. He wants to know.

Can he even trust Blanc to tell the truth?

          Shit, seeing Shato hurt. It didn’t matter if he looked away because Shato could still talk and reminds him of so much. Those were things he never wanted to remember and now there was no need.

          His first instinct is to yelp when someone steps on his tail — contrary to his younger self, it was real — and the next is to angrily yell at whoever had been stupid enough to do so. Eyes snap open and he doesn’t immediately register who it is until he’s shot up into a sitting position and familiar gold eyes mirror his.

                    ( — at least he got to see Minato again. )

          But the best reaction was no reaction at all. He had his Lady — and that was enough. That had to be enough. These prisoners could judge him all they wanted, but all that mattered now was that things were already said and done.

@troubleinleather liked for a shattered dimensions starter

Adrien does a double take in his aimless pacing, and quickly stops dead, seeing a white clad version of his heroic form, and he has to fight the urge to take off his glasses and clean them. As much he he logically knows that something on his lenses couldn’t cause him to see what- who he is seeing, he still can’t quite believe it.

                “… uh. Chat… Blanc?” Adrien questions slowly, approaching him. Adrien hasn’t really… uh, at all talked to anyone here, so he’s not sure why he is now.

No, he knows why. Curiosity. Even if Plagg is gone, he is still Chat Noir, and you know what they say about cats and curiosity… 

          Others were a little more freaked out than him—honestly, with all he’d dealt with in his life, superhero or villain, a little game of murder didn’t scare him. Only one thing did and that was the minuscule chance that he’d lose his Lady. Ah, but she was strong and capable.

“You’re right, I’m not a Warden anymore, but I was. I know what my Lady and I did for you people.”

“We give you endless food, warm, comfortable beds, accommodations for all the different types of creatures, including that tiny bitch, yet we’re truly so horrible?

“We give you shelter, a party, water guns, movies and games, yet we’re evil?

“We give you a hospital and trained professionals who saved lives, yet we receive no thanks for not leaving them to die?

“We gave you only a few rules to follow. We installed no curfew, no off-limits areas, yet you blame us for only what has gone wrong?

“You’re pathetic. We gave you a game and its rules and gave you many tools to succeed, yet you only whine about poison?

“I didn’t give you anything. Those ideas were my lady’s.” 

That was a lie. He had confessed to Shato that the hospital had been his idea, but he knew how the others felt about him. If they were going to hate him anyway, why not make them like Marionette more?

Even so, the ghost of lips on his warmed his body a bit, relaxed him despite the pain. Shato was fairly fired up.

“I’ve ruined more than your shirt, Shato, and you know it.”

Shifting himself, he hissed at the pain in his arms and sides. Right. Lyall had taken a number on him before he passed out the night before.

Shato was here — where were they? Not his room, for sure. Oh, it was a dorm. He was on one of the couches, and his body ached. He was dressed in black. Oh. Right. He’d been knocked down a few pegs. That much couldn’t be denied, though he didn’t like it.

Yawning, he shook his head quickly.