xp_logs | Cathouse: Contact

Vanessa receives the information she needs, but not quite the way she expected.

When Vanessa hit the button for the buzzer downstairs she had been expecting it to be Crystal. Normally the door down on the street was left unlocked but she was only in the office to meet up with the princess for this possible case involving abused girls at a brothel. Walk-ins could wait until tomorrow. She left the door to the office itself unlocked while getting herself a bagel, but it wasn't the blonde haired princess of Attilan that walked through the door. It was a distractingly sparkly brunette. Vanessa had to blink a couple times to see past the sparkle and the minor surprise of the stranger. Though she wasn't really a stranger, was she? Vanessa had seen the woman around the neighborhood, even in Zeitgeist. She even had the distinct memory of a smile that had made her want to flirt with the woman before she had gotten sidetracked by something else. "Hi. Sorry, but I've got a client coming in right about now and there's no one else here to help you. Unless it's an emergency I could schedule time for you to talk to someone tomorrow."

The woman regarded Vanessa with golden eyes as she spoke. "It could be an emergency," she told Vanessa. "People are being hurt. This isn't the first time but it also can't see it being the last. I have information to give you today."

The accent was British, near London but not quite a London accent as far as Vanessa could tell. It wasn't the voice she would have expected from the woman, though she supposed it fit the upright posture. She could probably convince Crystal to wait for her in her apartment or go get coffee at one of the places nearby and come back once Vanessa was done with this woman. Restraining herself from a sigh, the metamorph gestured to the chair that sat opposite her desk. "Please, have a seat and tell me about the people being hurt then."

The woman looked around for a moment, taking in her surroundings. Looking a bit unsure of herself, she sat in the offered chair. "So this is the famous office of X-Factor investigations. They call you the mutant cops, say you'll help mutants when others won't. There's promise to District X but there are also people who ruin it for others. That's why I'm here."

"I doubt we're famous." Vanessa was well aware of their reputation as the mutant cops, though. She abandoned her bagel on the counter in the kitchen area, not wanting to be rude, and headed for her own seat at her desk. "There's a lot wrong in District X. There might be promise but there are a whole lot more problems to be fixed, too. Don't kid yourself. It's not all sunshine and daisies here." Vanessa pulled out a notepad and a pen once she was at her desk and then gave the sparkly woman a more serious look. "So what problem brings you in?"

"There's a day spa not too far from here," said the brunette. "Well, on the outside it's supposed to be a day spa, but there's a lot more going on inside than that. It's a brothel, and the girls there have been having a rough go of it lately. Unusually and unnecessarily rough, and not in a way they've agreed to."

Vanessa quirked an eyebrow at the nameless, sparkling brunette. "You're not the first person to bring this up to me. I'm expecting someone else in a bit about what I think is the same situation, unless by chance there are two brothels in the neighborhood with potentially abusive behavior going on. What all do you know about the situation?"

"No, there's just the one." Golden eyes looked straight into those of red. "As requested, I have a contact for you. I am the someone else you're expecting."

A white eyebrow rose in a slow arch. "I was led to believe that the woman who called me this morning would be coming herself rather than sending a proxy." Crystal wasn't a shapeshifter, to her knowledge and she had seen this woman around the neighborhood enough that Vanessa doubted she was a construct like those Marie-Ange made.

"She did. I did." The voice and accent changed, becoming the one Vanessa had heard over the phone just that morning, and the woman's posture changed as well. "Image inducer. It is quite a handy item to have when it is best for one to hide her identity and she cannot do so on her own power. I have another look for the X-Men, not that I have actually had an occasion to use that one outside of training sessions yet." She had been on more missions with the X-Men when she hadn't even been on the team than she had now her uniform was full-team black leather.

An image inducer. Vanessa thought it was strange something called an image inducer effected voice, but it made sense that someone might be able to identify her by voice alone if they knew her well enough. Was good was a disguise if it got blown simply because of a vague similarity and knowledge of the technology. "I see. I appreciate you being able to find someone willing to talk to me. If you can give me their name and where to find them or how to contact them I can start looking into this and get back to you on what I think can be done."
A glittering hand reached out and placed a small piece of paper on Vanessa's desk. "Name, phone number, and address."

Vanessa nabbed the bit of paper, looked it over once and slid it into her pocket. "Thanks, I'll get back to you on what I dig up."

She didn't get up, only sat there quietly for a moment before saying what was on her mind "Can I go with you? I would like to, if it is possible. I will not get in your way."

That was something of an unusual request. The corners of her mouth pulled down into a bit of a frown as Vanessa considered it. Clients, if Crystal became one, coming out on an interview for a case could be problematic. On the other hand, the woman was an X-Man and therefore something of a super hero. Then again, heroes sometimes got in the way with their heroing and this wasn't a black or white situation potentially. Vanessa also didn't know her that well. "Only if you agree to not step out of line. You basically stand there, look pretty, ask any pertinent questions you may think of that I haven't asked but you don't interfere. If things get too grey for you then you are welcome to leave but you are in no uncertain circumstances welcome to question my motives or the direction I seem to be taking if you disagree with them, alright? The few people I'm close to on that team of yours are very moral and very ethical and would not be happy with a lot of my own ethical and moral decisions. This could go a lot of places and wind up in a lot of conclusions your team would never go in for, but it's not your show here it's mine. If you can do that then yeah, you can come."

She'd said she wouldn't get in her way, hadn't she? She was young but not a child, and Vanessa didn't know a thing about her. Very few people did, of course. She'd never had the desire to play hero with the X-Men; she hadn't joined the team to fight. A lot of people would probably be quite surprised to learn about the things that she had done, and Vanessa might be surprised to learn about certain actions of some of the X-Men even while out on missions. And it was never her show when she was out with the X-Men; she took orders rather than giving them. "Standing there looking pretty is definitely something that I can do. I will not disrupt your work. I respect the fact that this is your investigation, and I understand that you will do what you feel needs to be done." She paused for a moment. "I called you, did I not? Not anyone else."

"I don't know you well enough to make assumptions about what you will or will not do, so I need to look at possible worst case scenarios that are plausible and cover those." Vanessa began to stand, then stopped and relaxed back into her chair. "And who do I introduce you as? It's simple enough to call you my associate but you can't be nameless necessarily and I don't recommend using your real first name if that's what you've been doing with this image induced form. Or have you got a name for your sparkly side already?"

"Being nameless has worked so far, but yes, I will need another name now," she agreed. "Do you have any suggestions? I believe that I would feel a bit odd about choosing a name for myself."

Always having been the one to choose the names for her own mimics, Vanessa didn't really relate to that. But she did sit there and look over the incognito princess. "Chase. Well, it's sort of a boy's name more. Mm...I like the idea of a girl named Chase, though. Sorry, inserting my own little mental images there. What about Riley? Chase could be her last name. Riley Chase. Sounds spunky. Do you feel spunky?"

"I can be spunky." The voice and accent she'd used when she first walked into the office was back. Did Vanessa want her to be spunky? Wasn't she just supposed to stand there and look pretty? "Riley Chase," she said, sounding it out. "Hi!" she said, trying to sound spunky. "I'm Riley Chase!" Another pause, then she nodded. "It'll work."

"Ah, and now I've got myself a plucky sidekick for the day, brilliant. All my other plucky sidekicks are...hmm...probably sleeping off their weekend still actually." Of course, it actually was the weekend still. "Alright, Riley my dear, let's call Carly and see if she can meet up with us."

* * * * *

The two women meet with their contact, then get information from the woman who used to be in charge of the brothel, discovering how the change took place.

After talking to Carly about the current situation at the brothel the girl had given them a number to reach her old madame at. Madame Libertine was a pleasant enough woman until Vanessa had mentioned the "day spa" and then she had gotten a bit guarded, though understandably so. Eventually Vanessa had gotten the woman to agree to meet her at some motel out in Brooklyn. She and "Riley," her sparkly but mostly silent sidekick, found the place easily enough. Libertine had texted Vanessa the room number. Wasn't thirteen supposed to be unlucky? With a sidelong glance to Riley, she shrugged a little and knocked on the door.

Opening the door slowly, her eyes narrowed, Madame Libertine tipped her head to the side to indicate that the women should enter the room. "Miss Carlysle, I assume?" She didn't know who the other girl was, but her eyes moved over both women with practiced, entirely professional ease. It was habit - one she needed to break, given she still hadn't found herself a new career yet and 'madame' wasn't exactly something she could put on her resume.

Vanessa bowed her head in confirmation as she moved into the room. She put her back against a wall perpendicular to the door and windows so she could watch everything and remain out of any line of sight for someone spying through a sniper scope in the distance just in case. "Madame. This is my associate, Miss Chase. I hope you don't mind her presence. Given the nature of the topic at hand I wanted back up of a sort should your rival have followed you and decided he was not fond of anyone conversing with you. Some would not allow such risks, you understand."

The apparent brunette stood near Vanessa. Spunky could wait for another day. Today, she was the strong and silent type. She doubted she looked particularly threatening, but looks could be quite deceiving. If Vanessa really needed back up, she would be more than happy to oblige, but otherwise she planned on simply observing and learning information about the situation.

Closing the door behind her guests, Madame Libertine shrugged, the motion speaking elegant volumes about her opinion of her 'rival.' "Ladies," she said, gesturing to the chairs set well back from the windows with their drawn shades. "I'm not much of a rival for him. He's got more leverage over me than he could ever possibly need or really find a use for, so he knows I'm not going to directly cause him any trouble at all. Besides, what kind of trouble could I actually cause him?" Her voice held only the slightest edge of bitterness as she finished, "I'm nothing but a whore, after all."

"So was I once," Vanessa replied calmly. She measured the position of the chairs to the window and door, then the angle to the door into the bathroom and closet. The tall woman slid the chair back against a wall and away from any ready entrance to the room. She wouldn't be taken by surprise from behind and she would not take herself away from the most strategic position possible, but she did sit. "Such background affords me more knowledge of the sort of man he is than I'd like. It also grants me particular insight into the situation. I have a tendency to grow more wrathful when I hear about abuse in the business. From what Carly told me it wasn't the same with you."

"No, it wasn't," Madame Libertine's voice held a note of what some might term pride. "I screened all the clients and anyone who took liberties that weren't allowed was banned. The girls saw doctors regularly, too." Sitting in one of the chairs, her expression softened a little. "How's Carly? And the others? I haven't seen them since I lost the business."

"Carly's girlfriend called an ambulance when she came home bleeding from welts on her back left from what looked like a single tail and a cat-o-nine tails with barbs of some sort on the ends. She didn't need stitches, but she's got several open wounds that are bandaged up. She said it was unusual for it to get that bad, but bruising and welts weren't uncommon. The clientele coming in are the sort you never allowed, I'm led to believe. She says the girls aren't allowed to turn anything down either." There was genuine sympathy in Vanessa's voice as she spoke. It was hard enough being a sex worker, the blatant disregard for a girl's safety was an indignity she didn't wish on anyone. Vanessa had those sorts of clients once back when she worked the streets.

The expression that passed over the madame's face was one of pure, incandescent fury. "No," she said, her voice low and very controlled. "I would never, ever have allowed that." Her hands curled into fists in her lap, though, as she looked from one woman to the other. "But I don't know what you think I can do for you. I have a daughter. She's nine. This man knows about her, has threatened her."

The woman had a daughter that was being threatened? Even before she had been face-to-face with Libertine, Crystal's conversations with Carly and her girlfriend had led her to believe that the madam had cared for the girls who had worked for her. The unanswered question had been why such a person would leave the girls at the mercy of someone who didn't care at all. You didn't have to be a parent to understand that the first concern of a mother or father would be their children. Riley's head turned slightly to look at Vanessa, awaiting her response. Could they take the child and hide her somewhere? What if she were being watched and this would draw attention? There had to be a way to help.

"That's how he got the business from you?" Vanessa quirked an eyebrow. Protecting a little girl wasn't very hard depending on where she was. After all, Vanessa knew some guys with very large guns who had a real problem with girls getting hurt, never mind little ones. But what would she do with this situation? The reaction from Libertine was promising. If the woman was that outraged over the abuse it was some verification that she had been a decent woman. If she had been a whore herself once then she was probably more likely to take care of the girls. Then again, plenty of madames didn't take care of their girls despite having been working girls themselves once. "I can protect a little girl until the situation is resolved. What was the nature of his threat and what do you know of this man?"

"Not a great deal, to be honest. He walked into the house one day, surrounded by his thugs, and said I was no longer needed. When I protested, he had one of his men go out to an SUV parked at the curb - to get my daughter. They'd picked her up from school. He said he knew where I lived. He said... that if I went quietly, he'd leave me and my daughter alone. And so that's what I did. It's not as though I had any legal recourse. This isn't Nevada. And he said..." Madame Libertine shook her head. "He said he would go easier for the girls, too. That he didn't want to have to make an example of me to them, especially not in front of my daughter."

The narrowing of Vanessa's eyes was all the indication of the slowly building rage in the pit of her stomach. She had a thing against hurting kids. It had been one of her rules as a mercenary, they didn't sign up for wars that used child soldiers or were fought against them. Using a little girl to snatch her mother's business away? It was beyond despicable. For a moment she wondered how Bishop felt about kids. It was too bad Thom wasn't stateside. Then again, he could be. Wade would have been the most convenient source of protection for the girl, but he was sick right now. That was unfortunate timing. Then again, he was mostly holed up in his suite anyway so maybe it would be worth an inquiry first. He liked kids the most of her immediate options.

Fingers drumming against her thigh, Vanessa asked, "What if I told you that I could remove him? It'd take a bit for me to figure out who he is and what lengths I'd need to go to in order to protect you, your daughter and the girls from any associates coming in to reclaim the business in retribution. Theoretically, I dig into his business, dig him out of yours and he's never heard of again one way or another. Can you go back to business as usual? No girls getting hit, regular doctor visits, vetted clients, the works?"

Madame Libertine didn't answer immediately. It was obvious she was weighing the consequences of her words, the longterm repercussions. Finally, she said, "I put the last of my savings into my business. I wanted it to be somewhere safe for the girls, somewhere they could go when they had no other options - because let's face it. From one former working girl to another, nobody grows up dreaming about turning tricks. But if they have to, if it's the best they can manage for the moment... then I wanted them to have that option." Her frown intensified for a moment before she nodded slowly. "I need to know what you can do for my daughter, to protect her specifically. And... then, if you think you can remove him... well. The business makes good money. I've got enough... I could pay you."

Crystal had assumed she'd be paying for the cost involved in the case. After all, she was the one who had brought it to Vanessa's attention, and she realized that X-Factor Investigations was an actual business, not a group of people who answered calls to save the world. It did seem to make sense that Madame Libertine would offer to pay, but did she think they came here looking to get money out of her? Hi, we know you have a problem, pay us and we'll fix it? Yes, some people would do that, but that seemed like a horrible thing to do. But there wouldn't be a good explanation for how or why Riley Chase would offer to pay for this. Riley was here to play bodyguard if needed, and listen and observe, not offer to foot the bill. That was something Crystal would do, not Riley.

Vanessa shook her head. "I can't take your money. My business is linked to a man who I can't have linked to a madame being kept in business. Politics, of a sort. I'm sure you understand. This, though, this I would do pro bono." Part of Vanessa wanted real retribution on the men who thought whores were trash they could throw out after destroying them. But those girls didn't just disappear. They had to live with the damage done to them. They had to figure out how to glue and tape the pieces back together and keep going. They never lost all the damage that they got from that work. They'd always carry it with them, even if the scars couldn't be seen on their skin.

"As for your daughter," the smallest quirk at the corner of her mouth hinted at a smile. "You never asked how I got out of it. I became a mercenary. I'm not one any more, but I've more than a few very close, very trusted friends who are more than capable of making short work of anyone attempting to hurt a little girl. Two are local, one is overseas and would come at the slightest request from me. I trust every one of them with my life without question." Oddly, she found she included Wade in that. "I've also got a lovely friend who is a former NYPD detective who is a very dangerous man when he wishes to be. There's also me. I'll need to make a few calls before saying definitively who would be looking after her, but I'd be checking in on her myself as well. No actions would be taken until I could tell you for certain where she would be."

"It doesn't sit well," Madame Libertine said, not quite allowing herself to hope. "Not paying you, I mean. But I understand the politics of it." Her money wasn't 'clean' in the classical sense. Not even in the modern sense, she supposed, considering prostitution wasn't legal in New York. She was suddenly reminded of that scene from Gone With the Wind where the Madame was trying to give her money to the hospital and no one would take it. "But... yes. If you can guarantee my daughter's safety... I would greatly appreciate your help."

Vanessa nodded. "I respect that, but the bigger picture is beyond just you or I and I need to think of that as well. Besides, I never know when I might need somewhere to hide someone where no one would ever look for them. A favor, at times, is far more useful than money." How many people would check a whorehouse for someone, really? Now that she thought about it, that could be incredibly useful. Favors had so many more possibilities. "Your daughter's safety will be guaranteed. I promise you that."

She pulled out a pen and a business card from her pocket. "I'll need to know where the business is located exactly, of course," Vanessa said as she wrote down the number to a pre-paid cell phone on the the back of the card. The front of the card simply read Ness, Mercenary for Hire. It had been a joke from Eamon one year, but the cards had come in handy oddly enough.

"Favors I can do," Madame Libertine said. Then she picked up one of the many gratuitous pads of paper and a pen from the table and wrote out the address for her former place of business on it. "There are four floors," she said. "The first floor is dedicated to the day spa. We make a fairly good profit from that - or we did, at least. Simple things. On the second floor, the front parlor is where the clients waited and met the girls when I was running things. The room directly across from that was my office. There's a kitchen toward the back and a room where the girls could relax between clients, if they wanted. There's a laundry room with a door that goes into the backyard, as well. The third floor has four bedrooms and a bathroom. The forth floor is the same as the second. I had ten girls working for me, do you need their names?"

Vanessa nodded. "Yeah, their names would be helpful. That way I can check up to see if they're still there and find out where they are if they're not." The unspoken intent was to make sure a client hadn't killed any of the girls with his idea of sex. Or that the new guy in the business hadn't killed one of the girls by making an example out of her for the others. Vanessa couldn't promise to not murder the bastard if he had killed one of the girls. Right now her intent was to get enough on him to hand him over to the cops and let him become someone's bitch in prison for crimes outside of the brothel. Things like missing girls who turned up in morgues could change that.

"Alright," Madame Libertine said, pausing to write down the names of all the girls she'd had working for her when the stranger had taken over. "I'd... really appreciate it if you could let me know how they're doing."

Vanessa stood and held out the business card to the woman before taking the offered slip of paper. "Aye, I'll get you status reports on them all as soon as I've got them. And I'll call you by the end of the night about your daughter and any other pertinent developments I have by then."

Riley followed suit and stood, her mind racing with everything that had happened in just a few short hours. This was different than anything she'd ever been a part of before. What would be done now? Would she be allowed to help with the investigation? Could she do anything to help with it? What was she getting herself into? All she knew was that a situation had been presented to her, one in which people were being harmed, and she wanted to be part of the process that would bring it to an end.

Madame Libertine took the card the woman handed her, then paused and wrote a phone number down on it. "You can reach me at this number, if you need to. It's prepaid, but... we're not staying at our old apartment any longer, since that man knew where it was. We're with a friend for the moment, but it's hardly secure. It's better than nothing, though. If it all works out, I'll give you that address. And... thank you."