Hope House Mission One - Save the Girl

LOG: Hope House Mission One - Saving the Girls
IC TIME:Jun 13, 2529
LOCATION: French Quarter, Bernadette, Somebody's House
CHARACTERS: Aubrey, Carson, Cecilia, Vincent, Malachi

It started with a plea. A simple, soft...please. 'Find my Wife...'. A please given in the middle of tea, one that has haunted a certain white haired hacker for a couple of weeks. Doing research, spending money, tracking people, all the typical work it takes to prepare for a 'mission', he found himself...without a team. A team is always needed in times like this. That is when the letters went out to certain individuals. 'Do you want to save a life? Meet at this time and this place' with the French Quarter's instructions being given.

Francis Le'French, terribly creative name. Owner of a poodle grooming empire, the cutest poodles in all of poodle land and a very large house to show for it. Lots of wives, in fact on wife number 7 by now and lots of friends. Friends in high places and friends in low places. How does one afford expensive champagne and huge houses by just grooming poodles? By having connections in even lower places. The basement of the lovely expensive house is actually a secret gambling den by rumor and those with deep pockets and lots of money find themselves at this location...which resembles some kinda Burlesquey Fantasy French Court, complete with...women dressed in corsets and petticoats and expensive yet cleavage or thigh revealing dresses to serve a person's /every/ need.

Across the street however, there is a smaller house, where waits...one certain individual, his mobile hacker station set up and huge dressers of clothing lined against the wall, along with a couple of vanity tables. This is the meet up place, the password 'Garter Belt'. Aubrey sits, wearing...not much, a pair of nice heels, a flattering purple corset and a pair of fishnet stockings, but at least he's wearing matching purple and black lace underwear? Typing away at one of his little computers. Waiting for his/her team. Also, his hair is still set in curlers.

Carson had just been touring Bernadette, with his heavy armor on...of course perhaps this was the odd place to be wearing heavy armor...he had even been ID'd by a few Alliance officers...but none-the-less, for some reason he had found a letter with certain instructions...why him? He didn't even really speak french, no. He spoke German and Chinese. He shrugged and headed off to the place of meet specified by the letter. He was wearing heavy armor because he was training a new security grunt on how to use the stuff without getting killed. He entered the room with his feet making a thud on the floor. On the other side...he was disturbed by the site on the other side...he shrugged though and placed is L1A1 over his shoulder. He knew who the person was that was dressed so...elegantly. He didn't say anything though, changing his view from the weird man to the window.

Cecilia and Vincent both look surprisingly normal when they arrive at the meeting place. Both are young, dressed in fine clothing typical of the central planet quality, and one might fear that they're not here for a rescue mission at all and instead are a couple of kids that wandered into the wrong place.

The younger of the two, Ceci, offers a friendly smile as she looks around, taking in all the oddities mashed into one small place. "Hello..."

In a roomful of oddities, Malachi may not even stand out at all--but that is why he does, in the end, stand out. The burlesque does not scare him, nor do corsets. The impenetrably black aviator sunglasses come off as he steps into the Cafe and he tucks them into the pocket on his jacket. A thin smile crosses his face, pulling the five-o'clock shadow upwards slightly. It should not be too difficult to find . . .

It isn't. There he is. Malachi walks over toward Aubrey with a warm smile, like the scent of bourbon just before you have a taste. The fragrance around him is warm vetiver, spicy cedar, and unmistakable leather--old libraries and hidden conversations.

He approaches Aubrey deliberately but quietly, only catching his eye when closer and asking: "Are you the person to inquire with about garter belts?"

Carson is greeted with a blink and a tilt of his head from Aubrey as he looks away from his backdoor work to just stare for a few moments and he tentatively offers a small wave before looking over to Cecilia and Vincent. Then finally he looks over to Malachi's entrance and then carefully gets to his feet as he edges towards the door to the small house and he shuts it, pulling a door in front of it to keep it shut. "Right then, I assume you're all here to help save somebody's life?"

Thankfully, he's wearing boy shorts...and not a thong as he bends over to check a lower door latch and then turns back around. "Good, your dresses are in the dresses and...um..." He looks to Carson. "You...can have the one with lots of...petticoats to hide your guns...err...you don't have to take off your armor." A pause. "Oh, yes, I'm Aubrey...I found the location and then now we are the expected entertainment, it was the easiest way to get in."

Carson didn't give the password, but maybe it was obvious he was here to do so. "I got a better idea. How bout I just toss in as many flashbangs as I can and storm the place?" He could probably operate a lot more efficiently doing just that as a combat veteran. The dress wouldn't fit over this armor without ripping, anyways...and he didn't bring his mesh armor.

Vincent who has so far been content to lean against a corner hands in his pockets speaks up. "Or we could call the Feds, I mean, that's why we pay taxes right? For them to do all this hero stuff." Well it's why some people pay taxes anyhow.

Cecilia didn't give the password either, but Aubrey didn't ask. The young woman grins as Aubrey lays out the plan, and doesn't seem the least bit reluctant about dressing up in fancy French clothing. "Ooooh." She says in an excited sort of sigh and heads straight over to pick through the wardrobe, leaving the technical details to Vincent. "No no, I like the idea of dressing up!" She calls to the naysayers while holding up the different dresses against her chest to see how they might fit.

Malachi looks from Aubrey to Carson and Cecilia, then back. The grin turns slightly lupine, or at least dental. "Exactly what sort of entertainment is being expected?" he asks, an eyebrow cocked, before turning to inspect the costumes. He leaves behind the floofier ones for Carson, and tries to find something with a relatively high neckline. Because one glance holds the truth: there is not enough white pancake makeup on all Bernadette to make Malachi look like a smooth-skinned woman.

"Because at this rate, it might end up being a comedy routine." At last, he pulls something out that perhaps once belonged to a dowager empress. Or the dowager's mother. He holds it up against his front, looks down, then looks up at Aubrey. His chin is still tucked as he does, giving him a very skeptical look.

Aubrey moves around quickly and quietly, passing out tiny PDAs with information about Frenchy Le'Dumbass, or whatever his name was and about the gambling den and he moves quickly to tuck a couple of pistols down the front of his corset before he works on patting and poking and stuffing said corset front. Very lumpy...breasts indeed. "Because you'll need the flashbangs later...and no Mr Stranger...we have to protect the people who cannot protect themselves." He sighs and works on tugging curlers out of his hair as he blinks at Malachi. "We're an exotic performance troupe." He then looks back to Carson before starting to tug something very...cage like and big from a corner, half dragging/carrying it towards the man. It is...yes, a southern belle's hoop skirt...just the hoop part. "Here...we can tie this around your waist...and you can smuggle in a grenade launcher."

Vincent frowns and eyes the garments laid out for them. "So who is this person we're rescuing?" he asks as he nudges one of the dresses with his hand. "And how much can we expect for helping them?"

Cecilia finally settles on a cream and blue dress with lots of lace worked into the neckline and cuffs. She looks up at Aubrey as he explains things, but frowns,"Don't tear the curlers out like that, you'll mess up the curls. And you need to spray it." She scolds, shaking her head and looking around. "Here, I'll get dressed and then I'll help the rest of you." She scoops up the dress and disappears into whatever adjoining bedroom or bathroom will give her some privacy. She's not going to put on a free show for all these strangers. Just likely the strangers across the street.

Carson stares at the hoop thing...well at least he could now sneak in his rifle somehow. He sighed not seeing he'd have much of a choice...oh...he did, actually. He could walk out this very moment, after shoving something down Aubrey's throat for trying to humiliate him...but he wasn't the person to do that, nope...not the type. He guessed he could rip the silly thing off...but he'd look like a rather bulky female. Guess he could look fat for a day. He took off his helmet and placed it somewhere in the room...he'd have to get it back later. He also began to strip the armor, revealing much more comfortable clothing.

The corners of Malachi's mouth lift once more. "*Very* exotic," he says. He finds himself a corner where he doffs his jacket and hangs it over the back of a chair. Given that his shirt is halfway unbuttoned anyhow, he pulls the tails out, finishes the job, and quietly rebuttons and folds it carefully. Hefting the dress experimentally, he pulls it over his head--and whaddaya know, it fits fairly well. Only a little chest hair showing at the throat. With a pull and a tuck, even that is less visible. The long dress hides the shoes, gratefully. He tucks the fluorite mala back under the sleeve--it appears that will not be coming off anytime soon.

So now he just looks like a man in a dress who needs to shave. "Did I hear you mention masks . . . ?" he inquires, walking over toward Aubrey while fussing with his cuffs.

"Her name is Becky Marine...odd I know but she's the wife of one of the women who volunteers at the Hope House, she bakes quiche on Tuesdays and Thursdays at the cafe." Aubrey explains as he works on tucking his white hair up into a complicated...updo, securing it with pins and such as he blinks at Cecilia and he nods towards the dressers. "There are also wigs..." He stares at Malachi for a moment and he purses his lips. "I...yes, there will be masks...l-like masquerade masks..." He blinks and shakes his head quickly calling out towards Cecilia. "Can you throw out my ruby red lipstick please?" Apparently his lipstick is in the other room. "We'll need to be armed...or prepared to fight, I-I don't think the owner will let her go without a fight..." He looks back to Carson. "You can use grenades to make your fake breasts..."

Vincent steps away from the dresses. "....................." he says. "................................................................................................" <Japanese>

Cecilia returns from the other room, already decked out in the fancy gown that's just a tiny bit loose on her slim figure. She's carrying the lipstick as requested, looking rather impressed by Aubrey's hair. "Oh... maybe you do know what you're doing. Here." She passes over the makeup and turns to look at Vincent, frowning.

Cecilia says, "................................................................................................." in Japanese.

Carson blinks, "You don't have any fake breasts?" He feels comfortable knowing they'd have masks...at least the cover wouldn't be initially blown. Being armed ins't a problem for him of course.

Malachi looks over to where the wigs are situated. Something long, that might cover anything not covered by a mask. A nice steel grey to go with the denim (de Nimes) blue dress . . . . He experimentally pulls it on, showing the aptitude of one who has seen someone do the same thing, but has never done it himself. He leans forward, pulls it on, then throws his head back as he tugs.

It ends up not looking *too* bad. But there definitely needs to be a mask. Malachi pulls the hair forward to fall past his jaw, in an attempt to sort out

what this hair needs to look like. He looks over at Aubrey with a flat mouth. "If you have a gun, I will need to borrow one. My expertise lies elsewhere, so . . . " he trails off for a significant pause ". . . I'll do what I can." He looks around the room, and even glances at the building across the street. "But if you had a rapier around . . . ."

No words are spoken as Aubrey carefully moves to his gear, sorting through it all before carefully selecting his rapier with a soft hmm and moving back to Malachi to hand it over. Then he's back to applying lipstick and looking around to make sure everybody is getting comfortably...situated. "Of /course/ I have fake breasts...but I am afraid of breasts...they scare me, so you'll have to get them out of the dresser yourself." He carefully slips into his...can-can girl meets French courtesan outfit, purple and black and low cut with plenty of fake cleavage on display and he tucks something under his petticoats...and then tucks something else...and then something else. "Does anybody else need a weapon or help with their...mask, make-up...or dress? Because we have 30 minutes to arrive."

Vincent gives Ceci one of those looks for a moment before he sighs and moves back towards the dresses. "Fine, fine," he says, and after a forces himself to smile a little. "Okay, I've only got a gun and a knife, so whatever will hide those will work for me," he glances back at Ceci. "Can you pick something for me?... This really isn't my forte."

Then he adds in warning but without any menace. "And no pictures."

"The green one." Cecilia answers immediately, grabbing it up and shoving it at Vincent without hesitation. "Aww." She sighs in disappointment when he lays out the ground rule of no pictures. "Fine, fine." Then she turns back to the others and makes her way over to wherever a mirror might be to start working on her own hair. "I... uh.. I don't have a gun. Or a sword." She answers, glancing at Aubrey.

Malachi finds a full-face mask with spectacular plumage that might make up for the lack of piles of curls. The eerie white facade is surrounded by peacock feathers in green, with blue eyes surrounding like a corona. He removes it--and the dress as well--and stands in front of a mirror half naked, applying pancake makeup near where the edges of the mask might fall, on his decolletage (such as is showing), and wrists. He rifles through a drawer from a bra, which he slings on and stuffs with thongs. With a shrug, he pulls the dress on over his head once more.

Malachi nods thanks to Bree for the rapier. "Thanks," he says, with audible relief. He tries to tuck the rapier into a fold of the dress, pinning another part back to cover it over. A thick bustled bow around the middle goes a long way toward hiding the pommel. With the mask on and the dress settled, there is little to show that Malachi is a man unless one looks up close. The rapier makes for an awkward waistline, but such are the sacrifices one makes.

Carson had moments later, had on his dress and the cage thing. It had taken some time to figure it out and he had approached the drawer where Bree had mentioned the location of the breasts. He picked them out of the drawer and slipped them into his dress, and into position. He frowned, looking at his breast...he began to squish them around, "These are uncomfortable. How do woman go around lugging these things around all day and night long?" It would appear he was playing with his breast until they felt comfy so he then went and chose a wig to wear, putting it on. Last but not least, he chose a mask. He had earlier removed his guns from the holsters on the armor, and was now selecting places to hide them. At the mention of needing a gun, he handed his Colt to Cecilia.

Vincent takes the green one and after stripping down to his boxers manages to pull it on. Yep he looks like a guy in a green dress, but that's where the wigs, mask, and fake breasts come in. He picks a long dark wig and a kabuki-looking mask, and puts it on before getting himself set with some fake breasts. After he's done he turns and looks at the rest of his crew. "Um, so how do I look?"

Ceci laughs at the antics of the men stuffing their bras, rolling her eyes. "I could ask the same thing of men, with how much they talk of the size of what *they're* carrying it." She says with a smirk. When Carson hands Ceci the colt, the girl just looks at it for a long moment, brows knitted together. She tucks the weapon away somewhere in all the lace and layers of silk. There's a quick glance towards Vincent, and she brings a hand up to her mouth to stifle a laugh, then nods quickly, "Oh, you look very sexy, Vince."

Aubrey watches all the sexy...women of the Moulin...Screwed...or something. His hands go on his hips as he looks from each one. "C'mon girls." He takes out a gun and checks the chamber before slipping it back into his garter belt before smoothing down his skirts, passing out fans. "Each fan has a tiny communicator in it...don't lose them." Then he's unblocking the door with the chair and making his way out. "Time to go say bon jury."

Malachi pulls the mask on, and the illusion is . . . well, at least still an illusion. He takes the fan and snaps it open expertly, fluttering it beneath his flat

white face. Thankfully, the dress is long enough to cover up his dress shoes, because walking in heels would make the disaster more patent. "Ready when you are, Charmaine."

Carson takes the fan, and snaps it open as well...except the communicator not well stitched in goes flying towards Aubrey. He curses to himself and shrugs then. He'd manage. He followed Bree as he lead the way. He places the mask on his face, after checking that his gun was secure.

"Thanks," Vincent murmurs to Ceci as he takes the fan and snaps it open and closed again with a two quick and practiced flips of his wrist. "Okay," he says. "Lets do this." He follows the others out of the room.

Cecilia gathers up her skirts in one hand and grabs up the fan and a mask in the other. She doesn't bother donning the mask, but figures it's best for everyone to match. The girl definitely looks petite next to all the men in dresses, but sashays along with them quite comfortably, scootching in between Carson and Vincent.

The communicator has flown off...gone flying and it hits Aubrey who just sighs, picking it up and moving over to Carson to try to stick it in his...cleavage before turning to make her/his way off. OFF, the go..into the Breach.

The five 'women' are indeed greeted harshly by guards dressed like old fashioned French Army dudes, but they have their little guns and their rapiers and such as they are ushered in quickly. On the way...there are a couple who chuckle and mutter in French before trying to grope Carson and Malachi, while another murmurs something quite rude to Cecilia on their way down a long flight of stairs after being led through the beautiful house.

The basement is indeed...filled with rich business men at different tables however...when the five 'women' make their way in, they will notice there's a small stage set up with women and men dressed in their underwear wearing different colored collars and there are different men at different tables playing with different colored chips and such that match the collars of certain girls. It is smokey...and there's lots of talking and laughing and they are smoking and drinking quite a bit. And gambling. With the girls.

Carson shakes his head as he is groped and tries not to drop his cover and beat the guy to a bloody pulp. The man however would notice that he was rather muscular for most woman. Carson ignored the guards at the entrance. He mutters something about not fitting in with this scene...even if the outfits were french. He ignored the scenery and looked around for the bar, he quietly asks Bree, "So where is this person?"

Malachi brushes past one of the armed guards near the door and jumps--or feigns jumping--when a hand travels slightly out of bounds.

But Malachi stops a couple of paces later and turns. Something passes between him and the guard that holds the guard's attention, even as Malachi steps further into the room with the rest. Through careful and well-timed looks over his shoulder, Malachi coyly keeps the guard's eyes tracking him . . . and the small, subtle motions of his hand, suggestively rubbing something hidden under the bustle at his waist.

Vincent, being largely ignored by the guards is content to walk past without inicident but, he stops short when one of them says something to Ceci. His eyes widen sharply then narrow behind the mask and he commits the man's face to memory. However beyond that he carries on down to the smokey basement, nodding when Carson asks the question, though his eyes are traveling over the room looking out for danger, and of course looking at all the money changing hands.

The rude guard doesn't seem to bother Cecilia very much and she just gives him a sweet, endearing smile. "We'll see..." She says teasingly, bringing up the mask now to hide her features as they make their way into the sordid den of dastardly practices.

"...well mon dieu...now THAT is what is to be called women non!" One drunk guy wearing an old fashioned French military uniform raises his wine glass and nudges his gambling partner as they hurl French phrases...about big butts on women or something. Another guy with a giant cigar and a big white wig just hmms softly, approaching the women. "You are here to sing and dance non?" He looks over each 'woman' and Cecilia with a thoughtful expression. "Good, go set up over there on stage."

Aubrey looks around from behind his half-face mask, red lips forming a tiny 'o' at something some old fat rich guy says before he holds his fan up to speak softly into his communicator. "The Asian girl with the green collar...and the red hair..." He murmurs softly before curtseying politely and making his way further into the room, hips swaying and trying to be coy and...womanly. Hands do reach out to grope or try to goose and it is a gauntlet of horny old guys. But there are guards at the entrance and around the world, namely near a long gilded bar where money and chips seem to be stored as well as drinks seem to be stored and served by certain women towards the back of the room guarded by a really big guy...with mutton chops.

Carson does his best to blend in as a woman, but tries not to do anything to drag more unnecessary attention. He had noted all the guards thus far...not too hard. Heck this could have been a one man job. He took the tiny communicator from his fake breasts and acts like he's covering a cough. "So what's the plan, then?" He looks to the woman guarded by someone, "I am guessing that is her at the bar." He coughs several times afterwards.

Malachi makes quick eye contact with Bree after glancing up to the stage. Glittering obsidian chips behind the mask seem to be laughing. He positions himself opposite the gilt bar and Muttonchop . . . so people looking at him will not be looking in that direction.

"Mesdames et Monsieurs!" he calls out in a rich, buttery contralto, and a ridiculously bad french accent. "My name is Madame Marie-Therese Charmant Ledoux Jean-Etienne de Fortesquieu." He pauses for a moment, then gives a small curtsey. "But you may call me Madame de Fortesquieu. My companions and I have come for a night of entertainment!" He gestures grandly with his fan, snapping it open once more and fluttering it----and meeting the eyes of the guard he had been flirting with from far away. "We are here at your service, and wish to delight and entertain!"

"This minstrel--" he gestures at Aubrey "--is Charmaine de Fontenot, also known as the Songbird!"

"And this--" Cecilia "--is Colette Deveraux, who has charmed the snakes out of India!"

"This beauty--" Carson "--is only known as Sylvie, and has sent three men to prison, crazed by her wiles."

"And last, but never least, is the youngest--" Vincent "--Danielle. She is new to the ways of the world. Will you please welcome her tonight?"

And at last the introduction ends, grandly gesturing . . . and hopefully playing for just enough time for everyone else to get into place.

Vincent blinks behind his mask. "What in the..." he murmurs but when he is announced he flicks open his fan fluttering it briefly before bowing in the deep formal fashion of Japan on Earth-that-Was. As he moves towards the stage he bends close to the others, who aren't Malachi and says. "Okay... so we have a plan right?"seconding Carson.

Cecilia moves along with the group, but as they're nearing the stage, she lingers near one of those horny old guys that looks particularly rich. She lowers the mask and gives him a warm smile, glancing down at the table, "You look to be doing quite well. Perhaps... after we're done dancing I could come back? Learn a thing or two?" She asks softly as she leans in against him, just slightly.

"Yes...that's her..." Aubrey murmurs into his fan before laughing softly as he sways around closer to the stage in time to see and hears Malachi's introduction and he just stares at the man before giggling and making his way towards the bar. "Colette...you ah, back up Madame Marie...Sylvie and Danielle, you're on me."

The big man near Cecilia just stares at the woman and glares. "Why are you dressed..." He growls. Other guards and such look to the stage with excitement even as a tall drunk person passes by Colette and swings his arm trying to drape an arm around his shoulders...but he misses and spills his wine on the poor...'woman' while knocking off of his wig. Then he stares with wide eyes. "Wh-where did yers 'air go...madmoseilleee?"

Charmaine just murmurs softly. "...shit."

"Yes...that's her..." Aubrey murmurs into his fan before laughing softly as he sways around closer to the stage in time to see and hears Malachi's introduction and he

just stares at the man before giggling and making his way towards the bar. "Colette...you ah, back up Madame Marie...Sylvie and Danielle, you're on me."

The big man near Cecilia just stares at the woman and glares. "Why are you dressed..." He growls. Other guards and such look to the stage with excitement even as a tall drunk person passes by Sylvie and swings his arm trying to drape an arm around his shoulders...but he misses and spills his wine on the poor...'woman' while knocking off of his wig. Then he stares with wide eyes. "Wh-where did yers 'air go...madmoseilleee?"

Charmaine just murmurs softly. "...shit."

Carson is ever so slightly startled at the sudden move. He dropped the mask. Nope...not a woman! He pulls out his Desert Eagle, quickly taking aim at one of the guards trying to pull up their guns at the same time. He didn't take his time to steady the pistol...he didn't need to as it was all instinct now, having done this for a long while. As the iron sight locked onto the guards head, he squeezed the trigger letting his breath out as he did so...though this may be going in slow motion, it's actually fast paced. The trigger pulled all the way back, there is a loud bang as fire escapes the barrel of the gun, followed by a bullet...the bullet follows its curved trajectory as the gun's slide slides back. Though, the target is close so the bullet is straight and true....it the bullet impacts the guards heads, penetrating it with a large hole...the back of his head expands outward as the bullet escapes the head on the other side...causing blood to go all over a full table. The time speeds back up. "Shit!"

Madame le Fortesquieu squawks as the wig goes flying. A heartbeat, and her hand goes for the rapier beneath her skirts. With a victorious, crowing cry, she lunges across the card table to attempt to skewer the falling wig . . .

"And behold! The Fencing Master of Chatelaine will dazzle you wi--". . . and misses, quite clearly. The wig lands with a redolent -flop-, giving off a puff of powder.

Pause.

Pause.

Pause.

"Ehhhhh, fuck." Malachi's grinding bass echoes behind the mask, so he tries a different diversion--diving onto the table to spread the chips on the table in front of him as widely as he can and create as much of an uproar as possible as quickly as possible . . . . thereby revealing the slacks and dress shoes that Madame has been wearing this entire time, naturellement.

As the chips fall and people begin to move Vince pulls the Lightfoot 42 he has stashed in his garter out from under his dress. Moving quickly as Carson ventilates one of the guards, he grabs the drunk who knocked off Carson's wig and puts the weapon to the man's head. "Ceci, get the girl!" he shouts then to the rest of the room. "Weapons down! Or this man dies!"

Cecilia doesn't expect the reaction from the rich man and she draws back, startled. "Well, I have to dance. I mean.. " She stammers a bit, losing all train of thought and then chaos breaks out with Carson opening fire behind her. She hears all the cursing and that's enough for her to know the jig is up.

Maybe everyone else is moving in slow motion, but Ceci isn't. She reaches out to snatch up all that money piled on the table, stuffing it down the front of her dress. Then she hears Vincent's voice and runs for the stage.

Aubrey watches the...wig go flying and then Madam Maria Can't Fence...and then somebody's head gets blown off...then Vincent has a hostage and Cecilia is...going the other way and the mastermind just sighs and tugs his gun out from his bosoms and points it at one of the guards. "Okay! Change of plans! Get the girls out!" He calls out as he jumps up on a table, ducking a couple of shots from a guard. Then he moves fast like a little freak...because he is a little freak, jumping off the table to stare at a really fat guard...and then he just kicks the poor man in the crotch as the man falls over.

Chaos breaks loose, rich men trying to take their money and a couple actually do try to grab the arms of a couple of the half-naked women. Guards take aim at the 'entertainment' with drawn swords and guns popping off as others try to help some of the rich people escape and everything has gone crazy, French yelling and shouting. Thanks to Carson however...the two guards who are guarding the stair-case also fall over with bullet holes through their heads. Then a large guard reaches for and misses grabbing Malachi as the guy in Vincent's arms squirms and a couple of his friends are trying to 'Placate' Vincent with offers of money. Cecilia has a clear path now due to all the disruptions.

Malachi shamelessly takes chips and throws them around the room, aiming for the people who seem less well off. None make it into his bosoms--although he does use the flat of his blade to push people aside. He tries to grab some of the girls to hustle them out, pulling the skirts of his dress up in a flapping motion to run a little interference. "Run!" he shouts, trying to herd them toward the entrance. "Go!"

Vincent gives the rich drunkard a shove towards his friends and fires a shot in the air. "Run," he shouts to a near by woman. Before swinging the gun around to point at one of the men trying to take a woman with him as he runs. "Let her go," he demands while moving steadily for the door.

Cecilia races for the stage where the girls have been on display. As she passes one of the tables, she grabs the tablecloth and drags it off, sending more chips and money flying. She'll drape the cloth over the girl they're here to rescue so she's not running out into the street all but naked, and grab for the other girls to drag them as well. "Hurry! Get out of here! Follow me!" She'll head for the exit.

Aubrey is helping the others, running around, which is hard to do with so many petticoats, swatting people and kicking others as he starts directing people towards the stairs, up and out of the den from hell.

Malachi's shouts are helping as well, a few girls cling to his arms though, still believing he's a very large...manly woman as Vincent gets the girl to be freed as the old men just look scared. Cecilia gets the girls and they are running out towards the exit.

"I have...called the authorities now...to come and...see your very illegal den down here." He nods polite. "Ahh...Au Revoir? Oui Oui?" He bows. "Goodbye rich ugly motherfuckers." Then he's running for the stairs as well, there are about 13 girls in total being freed today.

Vincent turns and crouches in the doorway, keeping his gun trained on anyone who even gets too near Ceci. "C'mon," he calls to her as he jerks aside to let a group of women run past.

Cecilia hustles all the women across the street and back to the house where they first met, because there was no other plan in place. Really, there wasn't much of a plan for most of this little rescue operation. "This way, quick quick quick!" She says as they flee the violence and giving anyone outside a very bizarre spectacle.

Malachi's shouts are helping as well, a few girls cling to his arms though, still believing he's a very large...manly woman as Vincent gets the girl to be freed as the old men just look scared. Cecilia gets the girls and they are running out towards the exit.

"I have...called the authorities now...to come and...see your very illegal den down here." He nods polite. "Ahh...Au Revoir? Oui Oui?" He bows. "Goodbye rich ugly motherfuckers." Then he's running for the stairs as well, there are about 13 girls in total being freed today.

Cecilia hustles all the women across the street and back to the house where they first met, because there was no other plan in place. Really, there wasn't much of a plan for most of this little rescue operation. "This way, quick quick quick!" She says as they flee the violence and giving anyone outside a very bizarre spectacle.'

Malachi flaps his arms like a mother hen, pulling along whatever girls (or guys) cling to them. Indeed, he seems to be getting into the absurdity of it all. "Come, my chickens! Fly! Be free!" With a final crow, he throws a pile of chips right in front of the dorway, hoping to get more people to dive and block any pursuit. He flaps his way up the stairs until he gets to the street, when he breaks into a dead run, handing the mask to one of the former slavegirls. He makes for the cafe, hoping the others have the wits to follow--or run off in another direction.

Even Vincent has to laugh as Malachi flings chips and flaps his arms running up the stairs hiking his dress up with his free hand. Once they're out the door he bolts across the road following the last of the slave girls that Ceci ushered that way.

And this...is how the 13 victims were saved from a life of slavery...in the French Den of Debauchery and Gambling. Half naked, some draped in tablecloths, others in towels, they all end up in the dressing room that their...rescuers came out of, thanking people and some are crying and Becky...the person who was saved is given a PDA to wave her wife and tell her she's safe.

In about 30 minutes...the authorities do show up at the French Poodle Groomer's house...and soon rich fat/powdered men are led out most in handcuffs and such. People gasp when word starts to spread about what had been going ON in there...

Aubrey is just tired...and sitting in that little room, fanning himself and he gestures towards the girls and soon there will be food and such served and he looks to his team. "...showbusiness is bitching /hard/." And then he tugs off his heels. "...Bah..."

Cecilia isn't terribly consoling for the girls, but tries to help them calm down where she can. Really, though, her mind is on making sure Vincent makes it back in one piece. When he's back, she'll relax and grin at Aubrey's words. "So can I keep the dress?" She gives a little twirl.

Malachi changes back to his shirt, but leaves it hanging open because, well, he can. He consoles the weeping and laughs with the celebrating, and pats Aubrey on the shoulder. "Madame will be going into retirement. But thank you for the message. I am glad I could help."

Vincent watches Ceci twirl, his expression lost behind his mask, which he removes to reveal he's grinning. "Yes, can she keep the dress?" he asks as he sets down the mask and tries to get out of his frilly green get up. "Hey can someone help me with the zipper?" he asks as he tries to contort himself to reach it. "Anyhow, good working with all of you, that was... interesting."

"...oui." Aubrey replies to Cecilia and Vincent and such he just turns to his little computer set-up, glancing towards Malachi with a slow nod. "Y-you all worked very well, I'll try to get your payments s-soon, just come to the Hope House when you can." He takes a deep breath. "Y-you were a good team."

Cecilia stares at Aubrey in confusion for a moment, "Oh! That means yes!" She grins, a bit giddy as she goes over to give Aubrey a little hug. All the money she

stuffed down her dress crinkles as she moves. "Thanks!" Then the girl goes to collect up her clothes, balling them up and stuffing them into her backpack. Then she helps Vincent with the zipper, giving him a little kiss on the jaw. "You were very heroic." She says with a grin.

"Thanks, I tried," is Vincent's grinning reply as he's kissed on the jaw. Zipper down he ducks behind a screen to get fee of the frilly monstrosity that holds him captive. After much rustling of fabric and some cursing, Vincent appears buttoning up his shirt. "Well, that was interesting, should I leave our contact information if you have other jobs?" he asks Aubrey as he moves next to Ceci.

"He already -has- our contact information." Cecilia points out, picking up her pack and shoving it at Vincent to carry so that she won't detract from the slinky dress she's wearing.

Malachi nods modestly. "Thank you. And get in touch again if you wish. You're doing interesting things," he says, voice a warm baritone again--now the burn of bourbon as it goes down. He buttons the bottom of his shirt and pulls his jacket on. He's wiped of the pancake makeup, some once more his stubble prevails after he pulls on his sunglasses. He gives a tight, genuine smile and a nod, then heads back out.