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Patrols tend to be lonely affairs.
Rena doesn’t have her miraculous consistently enough for her to plan patrols with him, and even when she does have her miraculous overnight, she usually ends up third-wheeling Ladybug and Chat. He wants to blame them, he really does, but he knows that it’s as much the duo’s fault as it is Rena’s still present hero worship of them.
Carapace wants to say that he has that hero worship, too. But after the third talk with his teachers for missing school while he was sitting around waiting for them to purify the villain he stopped, he’s got a selfish bit of anger that he can’t seem to shake off.
He jumps over a street, taking a small bit of joy in the cheers and delighted shouting that comes from below him. Since it’s a slow night, he takes a moment to smile down at the street before moving on.
Patrols are for public morale more than they are to stop attacks, Ladybug had explained to him early on. They help with that, though. Seeing their heroes out and about makes people feel safe, and excited if they’re big fans, which helps to dispel any negative emotions that would’ve attracted Hawkmoth or Mayura. You could honestly play tag on patrol, and you’d still filling in the job.
On the next street, Carapace jumps down and lands on a traffic light. People shout and point as he stays on the pole, waving at the street.
A count of five, and a couple of camera flashes later, and he leaps, right above the crowd and catching himself on the ledge of a window, before quickly scaling the building with practiced ease.
He looks down for a long moment, checking the street, before sighing and turning back towards the rooftops.
Only to startle as he comes face-to-face with Queen Bee. He stumbles backward, surprised, before just barely catching himself on the roof’s edge.
“I need to punch something,” Queen Bee announces without preamble. “Do you volunteer?”
Carapace hesitates. Superstrength punches hurt bad, even being a hero himself. That’s not to say normal punches don’t hurt, but he’s got some resistance after so many attacks.
“Great,” Queen Bee continues, despite Carapace not saying anything, and then yanks him by the wrist so that he’s closer to the centre of the rooftop. She gets into a fighting stance, bouncing from foot to foot. She’s only ever still when she’s using her trompo as a phone. “Okay, so, I don’t care if I hit you, your shield, or a shellter, but I am not holding back, I’m warning you.”
“Uh,” Carapace starts intelligently. “Why?”
“Because my mother’s back in town,” Queen Bee says simply, before rearing back for a harsh punch. Carapace quickly whips out his shield, and her fist collides with a surprisingly loud clang. “And now everyone’s babying me. Like, yeesh, I know she’s shitty, but I can handle it.”
One thing about Queen Bee is that she doesn’t have that much of a brain to mouth filter, as far as he can tell. She will insult someone if she decides they deserve it, and has, on multiple occasions, called civilians that she’d saved earlier in the day hot. This tends to result in her talking about her civilian life without hesitation, much to Ladybug and Chat Noir’s dismay. Carapace doesn’t entirely care, because if he knew her as a civilian well enough to figure her out, he probably would have figured her out already.
She goes for another punch, but this time Carapace is more prepared, and he blocks it easily.
“And, for whatever reason, this time, she’s making Daddy act really weird. And I’d bet all my gold jewellery that it’s not because he just realised how shitty she is. And, as you know, gold is my colour.”
This time, she bends down and attempts to sweep his feet, and he shuffles out of the way. With her still leaning lower, he decides to take the opportunity and turn this into a proper spar, going for an undercut to her stomach. She flips out of the way, using the movement to kick his hand and still managing to land it.
Sometimes, he wonders if the miraculouses make Ladybug and Queen Bee more flexible, or if they just know how to do all of the tricks they do on their own.
“I mean, I’d offer you a sleepover at mine, because that sounds like an annoying environment to be stuck in, but y’know…” he rushes forward, taking a swing to her head which she blocks with her forearm, using her other hand to get in a proper punch on his goggles. He stumbles backward, reaching up to rub at the covered bridge of his nose, which is now pulsing with pain. “The whole identity thing makes that kind of hard.”
Queen Bee does not apologise for the punch. Instead, she says, “Well, a sleepover isn’t a terrible idea. I don’t like my best friend’s Dad, either, but at least there won’t be any yelling at her house, and admittedly their cooking isn’t terrible. I’ll think about it.”
Carapace says, “I just want you to be okay, Bee,” and then lunges for where her trompo rests on her hip, yanking it into his hands so that she can’t think to use it to her advantage in the spar. Ranged weapons are annoying, and he knows that everyone on their team except Rena usually gets a little lost without their weapons. “And, if it wasn’t assault, I’d totally punch your parents in the face.”
“Oh, you’d definitely get arrested for that,” Queen Bee responds with good humour. She dives back, reaching for his arm holding her trompo, but he quickly tosses it to the other side of the rooftop, the string rolling out slightly.
“So, hypothetically,” he says, matching his humour, while also taking a few steps backward from the return of her slightly angered expression. “If I were to go punch my friend’s Dad, and he’s already in prison, and I’m a superhero, would I still be in trouble?”
“Maybe. If he’s Hawkmoth.”
Well isn’t there some irony.
“I’d even bribe the guards into silence for you,” Queen Bee adds.
“Sure you will," he says, before kneeing her in the stomach.
She recoils with a grunt, gripping her stomach for a second before collecting herself, and rushing forward with her arm raised for a punch.
“Thanks for this, by the way,” Queen Bee says, though it sounds like a clear afterthought. “But I think this is making it clear that we need lessons. All we’re doing is punching and flailing.”
“You flipped,” Carapace notes. “That’s something else. And fighting villains doesn’t involve a lot of close combat.”
“So far,” Queen Bee corrects. “How long until there’s a humanoid sentimonster? If they can have the same powers as akumas, what’s stopping Mayura from giving one super strength?”
Carapace shrugs on instinct, before snapping his attention back, just barely blocking a punch from Queen Bee. “Dumb luck, probably. She might take a bit longer between attacks, but that just means she’s more of a strategist.”
“Lovely,” Queen Bee grumbles. Then, a grin that looks slightly manic stretches on her face, and she asks, “Do you think that my mom’s strategizing on how to make my life a living hell when she spends months out of town?”
“I think that you need therapy,” Carapace deadpans.
Queen Bee lets out a startled laugh, that she then leans into, leaving her in a cackling fit. Carapace takes advantage of her distraction, sweeping her feet and hovering his shield just above her miraculous. “If you were a villain, this would be the part where I break your possessed object.”
“If I were a villain, I would have punched you in the face a few more times,” Queen Bee returns.