Chapter Text
In hindsight, the brooch was rather attention grabbing. Calculating green eyes roved over the gaudy piece of jewelry.
“Is there no way to disguise it,” she asked the creature floating meekly at her shoulder.
“I am sorry, Miss,” the creature replied. “This is what the miraculous looks like when is it powered down. There is no way to change its appearance.”
The girl blew hard, brushing the hair out of her face. She examined the peace of jewelry again. She had been rather critical. After all, the brooch in its “powered down” state was not overly large or particularly unusual. But if she started to wear such a piece of jewelry so suddenly and without explanation there would be a few questions.
She walked over to her closet pulling out an orange jacket. She slipped it on, adjusting it and appraising her appearance in the mirror. When she deemed the outfit acceptable, she took the small, purple brooch and pinned it to the inside of her jacket.
The creature, Nooroo, she believed it had introduced itself, hovered around her anxiously. “Would you like to know more about -”
“What did you say you were the god of again” the girl asked.
At this, Nooroo grew more animated. “Oh, I’m not quite a god, Miss. I’m a kwami, the kwami of Transmission! And your brooch is the miraculous of the Butterfly!”
Her green eyes sharpened at this information. “You mentioned powers. What powers will this miraculous,” she said, tasting the word, “give me?”
“In addition to a suit to protect you from harm, you will receive the power of Akumatisation! When you transform, you will be surrounded by white butterflies. Hold out your hand to one and when it lands there, you can infuse it with your power. It will become an akuma and with it you may make a champion.”
At this the girl grew harsh and for the first time in many years, Nooroo flinched back from his chosen. “And what good will that do me,” she sneered. “My power is to give power to others? What about me?”
“Your champions will fight for you, Miss. A Butterfly need not fight if they do not wish it. You will feel strong emotions when wearing the miraculous and with these emotions you can convince and encourage others to aid you. And you do this with the akuma.”
The girl thought about the changes upcoming in her life. The power to get others to do what she wanted, she already had that in spades. She was uniquely skilled in that regard, dropping just the right combination of words to sway others to her side. But adding on a superpowered boost to that? Yes, she could find ways to work with that easily.
“What do I have to do?”
“You just say the words, Miss. Whenever you wish to transform, you say, ‘Nooroo, wings rise’ and when you wish to detransform, you say ‘Nooroo, wings fall.’”
“Excellent,” she purred, mind already racing with possibilities.
“One thing, Miss? You’ve not yet introduced yourself to me.”
She fought the urge to roll her eyes at the creature, it would not do well to be at odds with the source of her power just yet. “Oh? I can’t believe I forgot! My name is Lila.”
The god or rather the kwami beamed. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Lila!”
“And you,” she agreed. “Now, I think I want to understand these powers just a bit more. Nooroo, wings rise!”
Immediately Nooroo moved, almost faster than she could see, into the inside of her jacket. Looking down, she saw that her brooch was no longer there. Instead it sat on her collar, having gained a pair of silvery purple wings. She saw something glowing out of the corner of her eye and observed dozens of pristine butterflies fluttering their wings as they perched in her room.
And yet she found herself with little time to be shocked at these revelations as she gazed at herself with fresh eyes.
Her clothes had gone. Instead she was wearing a suit fitting of a superhero. Examining herself in the mirror she first noted the mask around her eyes. It seemed vaguely shaped like a purple butterfly which, she supposed, was rather appealing. She saw that it appeared she was wearing a suit colored black from neck to thigh. She appeared almost to be wearing boots as well as her legs were covered in a purple fabric. Her orange jacket seemed to have been incorporated into the design as well, cropped at her ribcage and colored purple as well. She flexed her hand, examining the way that the fabric rippled over her knuckles.
Looking down, she noticed the cane grasped in her other fist. She pulled on the crystal at the end and found that it concealed a sword. Out of a morbid sense of curiosity, she pressed her fingertip to the edge and gasped as she found it was actually sharp. She returned the weapon to its sheath and glanced at herself in the mirror once more.
She took in her appearance a final time. The Butterfly miraculous. The kwami of Transmission. And the ability to give power to others. An idea sparked in her mind.
“Farfalla,” she settled on. Her gaze was predatory and she looked down with barely contained glee as her brooch flashed and glimmered in the low light of her room.
Her grin was savage.
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“Do you believe you made the correct choice, Master? For the Butterfly miraculous?”
The old man looked up at the window, at the room where the girl, the new holder of the Butterfly miraculous was likely getting acquainted with her kwami. He observed the brilliant flash of violet light through the blinds and knew that, for better or worse, Paris would have a new miraculous wielder.
He thought back to their exchange earlier. He had been wandering the streets for some time, doing his best to find suitable candidates for the duty of wielding a miraculous. When he had posed as a feeble man, having tripped and stumbled, unable to get up, he saw a second’s hesitation in the girl’s eyes before she helped him up.
At the time, he had read it as nervousness, a simple moment taken to assess whether anyone else would help before she took action herself.
But in hindsight?
He could look back now and see the equations running over the backs of her eyelids. Looking around not see who would help but rather who would see her help. Had they not been in such a populated area, he doubted she would have taken a step in his direction at all. But they were and so after that brief moment, the girl had all but sprinted over.
“Are you alright, sir,” she said with feigned sweetness. At the time, he saw compassion.
“My cousin works in the medical field, I’ve learned a lot from her. Do you need me to make a splint for your leg?” At the time he saw due diligence.
“Oh, but are you absolutely sure you’ll be alright on your own? That was such a nasty fall and I’d hate for you to be hurt.." At the time, he saw someone worthy.
Now, he ran through her actions after. How she turned instantly to the people crowding around them when it was clear she would get nothing else from him. How she spoke to them saying, "Oh, it was nothing" and "I can’t believe how cruel others can be, walking by him like that" and "I’m just glad I was there."
The Butterfly miraculous required a skill with persuasion that was rare to pinpoint at first glance. After all, whether they acted for good or evil, Butterfly users essentially employed manipulation to akumatize their champions and manipulators and liars were typically good at concealing this ability.
“Oh, my old friend, I fear I have chosen the perfect Butterfly.