A: No. The deciding factor for a mark to appear has yet to be determined. Many theories have been discussed, many studies have been published on the topic, yet the event is so personal that pinpointing what exact set of circumstances leads to the marking remains impossible.
The most prevalent theory, both among scholars and marked soulmates, is that the marks require not only compatibility and physical contact but also a deeper understanding of one's partner nature (in other words: for one of the parties to see their match for who they really are). To quote a famous poet: 'He will see the truth of you and write it down with his fingertips' .
- The ultimate soulmate FAQ, .fr
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"It is not as much of a disaster as it could have been," Marinette admitted when 'Ladybug' soared over the 'city' and 'rescued' a 'terrified young woman' from 'Dark Cupid'.
And by that she meant 'Chloé in a surprisingly accurate costume soared over the stage and rescued Nathanaël from Kim'.
Kim had volunteered for his own role, as he thought his Akumaized self was 'badass'. Alix had flat out refused to play the damsel in distress ("my brother will be watching this," she had told them. " Kim will be watching this. No. Way."), forcing Nathanaël to fill the kidnapped reporter role in order to save the play. As for Chloé… You couldn't organize a stage play on the adventures of Ladybug and Chat Noir and expect her not to want to play Ladybug. Not if you wanted the arguing to stop and the rehearsals to start.
Thankfully, the blonde was behaving. It had taken a little nudge in the form of a visit from the real Ladybug, who had explained in no uncertain terms how much the play meant to her. Somehow, Marinette suspected that the 'think of the abandoned kittens' argument would not had worked as well.
Talking about kittens, Sabrina made for a very convincing Chat Noir.
"You mean 'it is going very, very well'," Alya commented.
"Well," Marinette said, pushing the drapes by an inch so she could peek at the large audience they had gathered, "people are not booing us and no one has been Akumatized yet. That's good, I suppose. But Mylène's dad is stuck in traffic with the drinks for the bar which should have been there before everyone arrived. Also, we underestimated how many people would show up," she added, counting the spectators standing behind the last row of chairs. "I'm sure we could have added more seats."
"Relax," her best friend replied, pulling her away from the drapes. "No one is complaining and we do have drinks. No one will die of thirst because we are short ten bottles of soda."
"But if we end up with fifty-two bottles of soda we cannot sell to the spectators, then it will cut into our earnings."
"I'm sure mister Haprèle will be here soon," Alya promised with the utmost faith. "Just focus on what is going great!"
Marinette took a deep breath.
She was so sure she had forgotten something, or failed something, or broken something. Organizing a charity event was a lot more work than she had envisioned when the rest of the class had promoted her to 'manager'. She was exhausted. She had been running around like a headless chicken for weeks.
Then again, her workload would not have been nearly as heavy if she had not insisteon helping with the costumes. Or, now that she thought about it, if she had not been a superhero slash class president slash budding fashion designer slash schoolgirl with homework. Maybe she had bitten off more than she could chew.
But it was for Adrien. Well, for the pet shelter Adrien volunteered at. They needed funds not to close doors, so the young model had tried to come up with ideas to help them. Of course, the Agreste had donated a generous amount of money, but Adrien's goal had been to get the shelter and its furry residents more attention. He wanted the cats to find nice families, which meant showing the cats to as many people as humanly possible.
He had prompted Nino for ideas.
Nino had prompted Alya for ideas.
Alya had prompted everyone else for ideas.
Six weeks down the line, they were reenacting the most epic of Ladybug and Chat Noir's battles for an audience of parents, teachers and Adrien's fan club.
Adrien made for a very convincing Darkblade, though his fangirls were probably disappointed by his full helmet. Rose, Nathanaël and Alix had shared Pharaoh's role, as switching actors was much easier than changing heads and costumes. Kim was playing himself (and overdoing it, because Alix was watching).
People seemed to like it. As much as you could like a play invented by teenagers, written by a journalist and 'improved' by a musician. Maybe even a little more.
Alya was right. It was going well.
###
"Thank you for coming, mister Kubdel," Adrien said with his best smile and warmest tone. "I hope you enjoyed the show."
As happy and thankful as the teenager was for the unexpected number of spectators and the donations they had brought with them, he had to admit he was functioning on autopilot and had been for twenty handshakes at least. Darkblade only had one scene but it involved a duel against 'Chat Noir' (when had Sabrina learned to use a staff so well, anyway?) as well as lots of pacing in the heaviest costume since Gabriel's 2014 winter collection. After that, Adrien had helped with the props for the rest of the play. His legs hurt. His back hurt. He was exhausted.
At least, he was in better shape than Marinette, who looked about to pass out. She soldiered through it, however, walking from spectator to spectator to shake hands and chat. Despite her tiredness, she was still able to grin. More importantly, she was still able to be underhanded and conniving: she was doing all of that while holding kittens. She had started out with four. She was now carrying three, but none of them were from the original batch. People were steadily leaving with freshly acquired furry best friends.
She was amazing.
Truth to be said, she was doing such a good job that Adrien allowed himself a break.
His father had come. Knowing Gabriel, it was already hard to believe that he had stayed until the end of the show. Seeing him still present fifteen minutes after its end was a miracle. There was no way Adrien would not steal a few precious minutes of family time.
The boy crossed the cafeteria, slipping between groups of people and trying to avoid being noticed until he arrived at his father's side.
Gabriel was discussing stock options with Nathalie. They both had their tablets out.
"Interesting play," the designer commented when his son joined him. "I especially liked Hawk Moth's defeat. It had… creative flair."
"Thank… you," Adrien replied.
It had to be sarcasm, he knew that. The 'battle against Hawk Moth' scene was dramatic, full of action and butterfly-shaped confetti, but it had not been written by Alya. Nino had contributed (Nino was now single again). If there was one thing to be said about that scene, it was that it left an impression. No one, so far, had managed to describe exactly what kind of impression.
"As far as your performance was concerned, excellent fencing technique," his father continued. "Though I am wondering… What kind of training does that classmate of yours have? The redhead? Even if the whole duel was choreographed, the pacing was quick."
"I think she practiced the staff thing a lot. She cosplays and Sabrina… She'd want to be as good as it as possible."
That was what Adrien suspected, anyway. Chloé liked her to roleplay Chat Noir and Sabrina always tried her hardest to please her best friend.
"I see," his father replied. "Well. I'm afraid I cannot stay. Meeting with new investors, it can't wait. I'll see you at home."
"Of course. Thank you so much for coming, Father."
"It was a pleasure," Gabriel commented, having already turned away with his tablet tucked under his arm. "Oh. Introduce Nathalie to your costume designers. I hear we have room for interns this summer."
Nathalie barely noded, used as she was to removing herself from their conversations even when she was standing within arm's reach.
"I will," Adrien promised. "Have a nice evening, Fa..."
The teenager faltered: he had just noticed that Nino was waving at him from afar, trying to catch his attention. The DJ looked frantic. As soon as they locked eyes, he gestured for Adrien to join him, mouthing what looked like 'now, now, now!'.
"... ther," the blond finished.
He waited for Gabriel to walk away then hurried to Nino. He could feel his father's eyes on him.
"What's wrong?" the model asked, anxious.
Nino did not answer. He grabbed Adrien's hands instead, turning look at his palms, then bending them from one side to another. He spread his finger. He pushed his sleeves up to look at his wrists.
"Crap," the DJ finally muttered. "Crap, crap, crap."
Adrien blinked, confused.
"Uh, Nino, what's going on?"
"Nothing. Crap. Nothing."
Gabriel, who seemed to have reconsidered leaving, quietly joined them. He grabbed his son's right hand and inspected it, then gave Nino a side-look.
"Did you by any chance get your soul mark, young man?" he asked, eyebrows raised.
Adrien realized what this was all about. He blushed and snatched his hand back to check for the small symbol his soulmate's touch would have left, if they had met. There was nothing to see.
Nino stared at Gabriel like a deer caught in headlights.
"W-what? No! No, I didn't!"
The designer squinted. He turned to his son without a word but, to someone who knew him, he looked concerned. Then again, he probably had reason to be: Nino had been checking for a soul mark, which meant someone they knew had a mark and no idea who idea who it was linked to. In normal circumstances, when that issue presented itself, you looked for the matching mark on your boyfriend or girlfriend. Adrien did not have a girlfriend, but his father did not know that.
"Did someone get their mark?" the model asked.
His best friend winced.
"Yes. No. Yes. Marinette did. She doesn't know who her soulmate is, though. She did not notice the mark, it's…. It's complicated. Anyway I was just checking if… but it isn't you."
Adrien paled.
"Oh. Oh," he murmured. "Need my help looking?"
He knew it happened, every now and then. As a model, he had been afraid of seeing it happen to him. You found yourself in a crowded space, shaking hands, brushing against people, not paying close attention to what was going on… and it would happen. Your fingers would brush against your soulmate's skin and the mark would appear, but you would not realize that, not until much later. And sometimes - sometimes - you would never find that person again.
He knew that full well because he lived with someone in that situation.
"Boys!" his father snapped, rubbing the black butterfly mark on the side of his right hand. "I'd advise you not to get involved, not unless your friend asked for your help. Soul marks are a private matter. Do not meddle."
The two teenagers jumped, spine stiffening. They swallowed. They nodded.
"Also," Gabriel continued with a roll of the eyes, "while I know they cause endless amazement, soul marks are not to be examined, probed and poked. You do not just grab someone's hand to get a closer look."
"Didn't you just do that with Adrien?" Nino blurted out.
That got him a scathing glare. He took a step back.
"Just behave ," Gabriel told his son. He looked at his watch and sighed. "And now I am late. I have to go."
The two boys watched him go, then Adrien turned to his friend.
"Marinette?"
###
Q: What will my soul mark look like?A: As a rule of thumb, a soul mark looks like a small tattoo (no larger than a fingertip) representing a simple symbol. It is more common for them to only have one or two colors, though cases of larger palettes or gradients have been documented.
As for the symbol itself, it will represent something that connects you to your soulmate, that defines an important part of your relationship. Its exact meaning might not always be evident, not even to the wearer of the mark, but the marked always come to understand it.
The soulmates we questioned about this often replied 'we did not get it at first but, in retrospect, it makes so much sense'.
- The ultimate soulmate FAQ, .fr
###
"What's that on your hand?" Nino had wondered after they had been down carrying the soda packs from mister Haprèle's van to the cafeteria, as Marinette sat down to take a breath and wiped her forehead.
Never had words so simple caused more of a panic. Not immediately, of course. Marinette's first reaction, upon spotting the red stain on her hand, had been to rub it away. She had moved painted props all day. You got dirty.
When rubbing had failed, she had licked a finger and tried to wash the stain away.
It had not worked either, so the young girl had frowned and taken a closer look at the loopy symbol on the side of her right hand. At that point, she had shrieked.
Thirty minutes later, everyone - everyone - knew her soul mark had appeared. Even Rose's mostly deaf grandma had congratulated her. EVERYONE.
Thankfully, she had found gloves before 'everyone' could see what the mark was. As for those who had seen it, they had not necessarily understood what it was. The guesses so far had been "It's a 'eight', right?" from Nino, a "I think it's a ribbon" from Rose and "it looks more like a Moebius strip" from Max. Chloé had taken a long look and scoffed, leaning closer to Sabrina to comment about how lame it was to get a piece of red string as a soul mark (this as she was still wearing her Ladybug costume and mask). Alya had stared at the mark and said nothing, which likely meant she knew exactly what she had been looking at and what it meant.
Marinette was sick in the pit of her stomach.
She grinned through endless well-meaning remarks ("You shouldn't be embarrassed!", "Come on, take the gloves off!", "I'm sure you'll find your soulmate soon!", "You are so lucky!") and the odd attempt at pulling her gloves away.
At this time of the day, she had been meant to help in the cafeteria. Alya had volunteered to take her place so Marinette could tend to the kittens with the shelter's employees instead.
In normal circumstances, she would have been looking for her soulmate and waving her hand for everyone to see. Not everyone was blessed with a soul mark. You did not waste your shot at finding the love of your life. In normal circumstances, the marking was a happy event. In normal circumstances, you did not end up filled by unholy terror.
However, when the symbol that 'defined your relationship' was the mask you wore as a superhero, silly thoughts about true love flew right out the window as reality crashed in.
Someone had figured out who she was.
Someone had seen 'the truth of her'. And she had no idea who.
"Should I go and search?" she asked Tikki as she cleaned the side of the classroom where the playpens had been. "I know I have to find them, but asking around will just attract attention and that mark could as well spell out 'I am Ladybug'."
The sound of the vacuum cleaner conveniently covered her voice.
"I think you are right to lay low," Tikki replied from her hiding place under Marinette's jacket. "If your soul mate has recognized you, I'm sure he will understand that showing his mark to people is not safe. We should wait for him to reach out in private."
Marinette nodded but did not feel any better. She had never revealed her identity to anyone, not even to Chat , and now some stranger was wandering around with a red domino mask on their skin.
In normal circumstances, getting your soul mark had you daydreaming about romance and happiness. All the teenager could think about was disaster. Someone out there could reveal her identity at any moment, even if they did not mean to. Someone out there wore her symbol on their skin (the domino mask was plain red with no spots, but it was still recognizable enough, wasn't it?). What if Hawk Moth found out about it? What if he captured her soulmate to use them as leverage?
One by one, the shelter employees left, carrying crates and boxes of food. One of them commented on Marinette's marking, which did not help with her frayed nerves. She sighed in relief when the door closed on the last of them.
She jumped out of her skin when it opened again ten seconds later, right as Tikki was about to emerge from under her jacket.
It was Adrien.
"So that's where you are!" he exclaimed, slipping in and closing the door behind him. He pointed at the vacuum cleaner. "Can I help?"
For a second - just a second - Marinette hoped .
How often had she imagined her soulmate could be Adrien? She had pictured a reveal, with Ladybug's mask coming down - maybe after saving his life, maybe after a daring visit to his home - and that moment of realization, that instant where the two of them would understand each other. One of them would have reached for the other's hand, caressed their skin and left a long awaited mark with their fingertips. Then the other would have returned it.
She had imagined it would be the lucky charm she had given him.
It would have made so much sense.
But her soulmate was not Adrien. She could see the side of his right hand just fine. It was blank.
You have a handshake mark, she reminded herself. Handshakes always mark both soulmates at once.
In some cases, the marking touch would not be returned immediately. One of the parties would have the mark, the other had to wait for a touch from their partner, fingertips against naked skin. But a mark next to the wrist on the right hand always came from a handshake. It was the most common location, so Marinette knew how rare it was for that kind of mark to be one-sided.
She could not remember anyone wearing arm warmers nor fingerless gloves.
"I-I was just about to mop the floor," she stuttered. "I'll be fine."
"I'll help!" Adrien exclaimed, looking around.
He located the bucket and mop easily enough and went to pick them up, then stared at them with growing confusion and unease. The unease turned to nervousness.
"So do I add soap or something?"
Marinette's eyes went wide.
"Have you ever used a mop before?"
He was so very, very rich.
"I. Uh. I've seen one being used? But I can learn! I should learn."
"I'll show you," she offered, jumping at the opportunity not to talk about the mark.
Ten minutes later, she discovered that it was indeed possible to make a floor dirtier by cleaning it. Adrien was growing sulkier by the second.
"I-I can finish," Marinette suggested, trying to sound tactful.
For a brief moment, her classmate looked dejected. He hid that behind a cheerful smile.
"No, no, no! I will! I mean, I can only get better, right?"
She smiled back.
"I suppose so. I'll take the posters off."
They worked in companionable silence for a few minutes. Well, near silence: Adrien kept taking annoyed breaths and mumbled to himself. The floor still looked like it had gone through a few floods and the odd tsunami.
Marinette was removing the last 'Adopt me' poster from the window when she felt her friend's eyes on her. She turned and caught him watching her gloved hand. She hid it behind her back.
"I'm sorry," Adrien said. "I shouldn't be staring."
"It's okay," she mumbled. "Everyone is curious."
Everyone was not the boy she had hoped would be her soulmate, however. She would have prefered for him not to mention it at all. She braced for questions on the mark, its shape, its meaning and the why she was not turning the world upside down trying to find the person it went with.
"Are you okay?" Adrien asked.
Marinette opened and closed her mouth.
He waited.
"Y-y-yeah!" she choked out. "Why wouldn't I be?"
Adrien looked away with a sad smile. He rocked back on his heels, uneasy.
"I just wanted to make sure."
"I'm okay," she murmured. "Thank you."
"Good. Good," he repeated, breathing out in relief.
"Thanks for not asking."
Adrien scratched the back of his neck.
"You don't have to thank me."
"I kind of want to."
"No, but you really don't have to thank me. My father preemptively scolded me so I would not bug you. If he had not, I would probably be an idiot about this."
"Your fa…" - Marinette remembered the black butterfly mark on the side of Gabriel Agreste's hand, the one she had seen on dozens of pictures. "Oh."
Mister Agreste's soul mark had been left by a handshake, just like hers, and the designer had never discovered who his soulmate was. His wife's mark had not matched his.
"He doesn't take kindly to people harassing the marked," Adrien explained. "I mean, more generally, he doesn't think poking one's nose into other people's business is so great. Aaaaand I probably shouldn't be mentioning my father right now."
For people who cared about that sort of thing, Gabriel's story was the epitome of tragedy. In the age of the internet and social media, it was rare for someone to never find their soulmate after being marked. Yet Adrien's father, a world-renowned billionaire who had been on more magazine covers than one could count, had been marked as a teenager and still did not know who his partner was. The tabloids had endless theories about it.
Marinette chuckled.
"It's alright. And don't worry. I'm fine. I just kind of want to hide the thing until I can process it. I had never realized how exposed it made you. I mean, my parents are soulmates and everyone rolls with it, but it's been twenty years. I should have know a newmark would attract tons of attention."
Adrien looked at her gloves.
"I have a question."
"Shoot."
"How soon can I expect to see amazing embroidered gloves to go with the rest of your outfit?"
Marinette grinned. She felt much lighter.
"By Monday."
"I thought so! Just so you know, I'll need pictures. Nathalie is on the hunt for interns."
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