Elusive Celebrity.

“Dude. I may not know much about whatever magic you’ve got, but I seriously doubt it makes you immortal.” There was always the chance, of course, but if he truly was impervious to damage ( or would just come back after meeting with the reaper ), why would he hide himself away? Cowardice could only serve as an excuse for so long, and one would think that he’d just go out and get what he wanted himself if he didn’t have to fear death.

“No one has to die,” she tries; while the faerie does what she can to appear unthreatening, there is still a thrum of power under her skin, and she is ready for a fight if need be. “But this has to stop. At the risk of sounding cliché, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”

“Dismiss my warning if you wish. I look forward to watching you crumble under your naiveté either way.”

Hawkmoth most certainly isn’t immortal. But he doesn’t need to be, and nor does he even truly need this heroine to believe him. The heroes that pursued him may’ve carried a hint of intuition with them, but the masses largely didn’t. And once he has brought this new heroine to her utmost defeat, the rumor will spread vast beyond the reach of their control.

So Hawkmoth won’t be folding just because his bluff has been called. On the contrary, he is prepared to meet this new magic-wielder head-on. Even if he does not know exactly what her magical capabilities are, Hawkmoth has ways of drawing them out -- & eyes in unseen places. And he is confident: he will soon know more about her than she knows even of herself.

For now, he will continue to patronize her with his smile, pulling it lopsided and stiff, until he draws his sword, apparently dismissing her feeble offer. For now, he keeps his actions simplistic and goes at her head-on. What better way to achieve a simple test of strength, after all, by going to direct throws?

Dude. You have the worst timing in the world.

She doesn’t say that, of course, because akuma victims are just that—victims—but she’s never been the biggest fan of Gabriel Agreste. Being a fashion inspiration is one thing, but when it came to personally…she’s heard too many less-than-great things about him from Adrien to have a lot of bad feelings regarding this particular akuma.

“He can stay waiting forever,” she replies, glare sharp and yoyo held tightly as she lands atop the Tower. “C’mon, Gabe—today’s supposed to be about love. Why don’t we wrap this up quickly and you can go hug your son or something?” 

Maybe she’s a little more snarky than usual, but when she’d internally complained about timing, it hadn’t been that much of an exaggeration.

“You. Are in no position to address me so personally. Lady-bug.” There’s a fair bit of malice in is tone. The unspoken feeling seems to be mutual, although an undertone of hatred isn’t necessarily uncommon for those who have been tainted by Hawkmoth’s magic. If Gabriel intends to sell this, though, he knows he’ll have to give a little more--why is he here on the day of love exactly? Everyone knows his story, to an extent--that just comes with being a celebrity. But akumas have a habit of spilling the beans regardless. So Collector follows suit.

“How dare you bring my son into this?! He is suffering from the loss of Emilie just as I am. And if I am to be denied the right to enjoy this day with my beloved, so shall be the rest of this repugnant city!”

Hawkmoth hadn’t needed to go anywhere to capitalize on today’s festivities. Without Emilie around to celebrate with, this day left a bitterness in his tongue and only furthered his drive to bring his wife back.

He knew. This time, he was going have to level the playing field.

Collector had only lost because they were able to overwhelm him with his son’s massive collections. But today, Collector stood atop the romantic centre of Parias--the Eifel itself--and dared the heroes to come up with something so simplistic.