It's like a switch being flipped. Pink to green. The hazy, unfocused world comes into sharp clarity. And so does what he'd just been ordered to do. He thinks he's going to be sick. Blanc goes still on the rooftop, hands clenching-the blood on them is so fresh. Who had he done in? What unfortunate soul had Hawkmoth had him kill? Actually, he didn't want to think about that.

But what could he focus on? The weight of his Lady's last gift to him? Before she'd seemingly vanished off the face of Paris? The bow, so light, is heavy on his mind in these clear moments. The words she'd told him were muddled, too. Had it been "I'll be back"? Or maybe… "I love you"? He just couldn't remember, and that lack of clarity hurts. Chat crosses his arms and stares off the roof, over Paris, in pain. He missed her, dearly.

Blanc's eyes go down, ears folding back in dismay. He knew, subconsciously, he shouldn't let himself feel bad, or negative. Hawkmoth would snatch him back up faster this way. But when your life is nothing but a fiasco of murder and mind control… It's hard to stay positive. And when his light was quite literally missing.. Well.. He'd go back under soon. But he could just stand and admire the lights of Paris in this quiet time. Winter was coming, he could tell by the nip in the air and the way his breath fogged out. Funny, when he's not fully himself, he can't even tell it's cold.

A shaky sigh escapes him and Chat Blanc's eyes brighten, pink overtaking the green once more. That voice returns, angry that it had happened once more. That every now and then, his pawn broke free. The purple flashes over his face, and Blanc nods. He still had more to do, after all.

Last night your shadow fell upon my mind

Awaking memories I thought I'd left behind