Chapter Text
The lights that lip up the streets of La Rochelle gave Juleka a sense of soul cleansing peace, bright, warm lights of beautiful street posts illuminating the brick roads bustling with locals and tourists alike. Stopping in front of another boutique that caught her eye, she hummed appreciatively at the outfits decked around the mannequins. The shops of La Rochelle certainly have good tastes and she grudgingly admits that the vacation forced by her stubborn brother proves to be the right choice after all. Everything was beautiful from the vintage structures down to the seaside that spans as wide as her eyes could see.
While Paris was home, La Rochelle sure can put up a decent fight in terms of beauty and aesthetic.
Juleka ignored the stares that followed her as she walked down the streets, idly observing the lines of establishments ranging from food to clothing to instruments. At twenty six, she had lost her meek demeanor and could now proudly admit to herself that she has the ability to draw people in, having built her confidence up along the way in her life as a model. Gone were the hunched shoulders and thick side bangs, giving way to straight spines and visible piercing eyes lined expertly with kohl. Perhaps, the only thing that remained was the vivid splash of purple mingling with her midnight strands, the once upon a time timid pop of color now a blatant undercolor of defiance.
Her straight bob moved sharply with every toss of her head as she looked around, dangling earrings catching the lights and sharply blinding whoever’s looking in poor timing. Juleka continued to look about and began turning around a corner when something made her look beyond the corner of a street. A quaint shop with a beautiful black dress caught her eyes and she walked towards it, the click clack of her short heels snapping loudly against the cobblestones.
She reached the front of the shop and idly gave notice to another woman looking at the same dress, a petite local by the looks of it. The garish gray sweater was hanging off the stranger’s thin frame partnered with loose squarepants and worn sandals. No self respecting tourist would be caught dead wearing something like that aside from locals comfortable enough with going out in what seems to be their pajamas. Juleka doesn’t usually have the habit of side-eyeing people she doesn’t know but something feels familiar that made her more interested than usual. Her amber eyes narrowed as she tried to pinpoint the feeling rolling in her gut, taking note of the messy mop of hair and thick glasses framed with cheap, plastic frames.
She almost gave up when suddenly, the unknown woman turned around, an out of place splash of color by her hip catching Juleka’s gaze. A decade might’ve passed but she will always recognize that familiar pink purse emblazoned with an equally recognizable insignia. A very loved, very familiar, now apparently very worn, letter M.
“Marinette?” Her voice was barely a whisper and she doubted the woman had heard her amongst the busy buzzing of street life.
But she did.
Juleka can only watch in blatant surprise as familiar blue eyes surrounded by bruised skin turned around to meet her wide amber ones, a shocking canvas of pale white hiding behind broken spectacles. Once upon a time luscious lips split open, cracked skin flaking painfully.
“Ju..leka?” Came a raspy voice far from the ghost of what was once a lively Marinette Dupain-Cheng.
Something bloomed agonizingly inside of Juleka at the sight of her old friend in tatters. Denial and horror mashing together, forming a cold ball of lead that threatens to bowl her over. A well manicured hand raised to press against her trembling lips and it was with a voice reminiscent of her childhood, did she finally speak again.
“What happened to you?”