xp_logs | Genosha - The Unwritten Alliance: Infiltration

Marie-Ange and Vanessa do some investigating, but things do not go as planned for Vanessa.

Every city on earth that called itself Modern had it's Society Scene, where people went and mingled over tiny glasses of champagne and made the political deals and business deals that drove the economy. Sometimes it was a charity event or a gallery opening, sometimes just a chance to wear four thousand dollar dresses and suits and be seen. This was somewhat of the latter, with a touch of the first, and Marie-Ange and Vanessa-as-James were entirely dressed for the part. James filled out a tuxedo very nicely, in Marie-Ange's opinion. She'd said so. Several times.

Vanessa was all too familiar with these sorts of places for her liking. That's what one got when impersonating politicians to set them up for crimes they didn't actually commit. Mercenary work could be dirty sometimes. This was a welcome change to that, however. With Marie-Ange on James' arm the pair looked like they belonged there, it was just a matter of not attracting suspicion before they found out something useful. New blood always raised eyebrows, but these people were more like sharks smelling blood than cautious diplomats. "Once around the place to spot which sort is where before deciding where to mingle?"

"Oui." It would also make them look less suspicious, since mingling was what everyone did. You didn't just go in, find people to talk to and then leave, not if you didn't want people to notice. Marie-Ange tucked her arm more securely into "James'' arm, and let him lead her through the scattered groups of people. She leaned her head, carefully to not muss her hair, against his shoulder and in a almost inaudibly low voice, whispered "I think the man with the blond hair, the one with the receeding hairline, he is the ambassador's assistant's secretary, no?"

James' eyes swept casually across the crowd, taking in the man Marie-Ange had indicated and giving a small nod. "But is the assistant nearby?" Vanessa asked in a low rumble of a whisper. "I have every faith in you to loosen his lips but we'll need to make sure he doesn't have better reason to tighten them." Bosses could be terribly inconvenient that way. There was a group of women off by the piano whispering with furtive glances to various people around the room. Vanessa noted where their gazes moved. If one was worth gossiping about then one had information.

"The lanky man looking like he would rather disappear," Vanessa whispered, a quick nod in his direction indicated a tall, young man who looked miserable. It was, perhaps, that his drink was his only friend in the room. "If he's here he must be connected but if he hates being here he could be worth talking to."

"He is not unattractive," Marie-Ange replied. "Perhaps you can abandon me, go try to push yourself up the career ladder by convincing the secretary to introduce you to his boss. I could make his time here more pleasant." She blew a little piece of stray her off her face and frowned. "Parties can be so boring, after all. Sometimes you just have to find the right person to meet and then suddenly, so exciting." For a moment, she looked exactly the part of 'bored socialite', complete with pout.

Vanessa unwound Marie-Ange's arm from her own, raised the redhead's hand and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. "Try not to cause a scandal, my love," James' voice murmured against her skin. "You know how people begin paying attention once you become worth gossiping about." She knew that, of course, but Marie-Ange was very attractive and sometimes it was worth reminding pretty women to behave. It was so easy not to.

"You and I remember that party very differently." Marie-Ange said, with a little pat to James' cheek. "As I recall, you threw the first punch." She wrinkled her nose and laughed lightly, and then spun away to trail after the tall man holding up the wall.

"What did you say your name was again?"

Vanessa tossed James' cards over to the dealer, looking appropriately disappointed that the hand had just been lost. She waited a beat, furrowed James' brow and looked up. "Hm? Oh, I've told you, James. You really bad with names?"

"No, actually." Frederick sat next to the dealer, idly twirling his cigar between his fingers. "Yours just doesn't seem to stick with me for some reason. What was your surname?"

"Ehrlichman," Vanessa answered as easily as if it really was her name.

"German?"

James nodded.

"You don't sound German."

Ah, there it was. That hint of suspicion. Frederick was finding James' presence too convenient, perhaps. Maybe he knew something about the people abducted from the protest outside the New York embassy and found the stranger at the party suspect. Whatever it was, Vanessa was going to have to get out of there before his suspicion spread. Such things caught on like wild fire at the most inconvenient times. "That's because I'm a born and bred American. Now, gentlemen," James nodded to the others gathered around the table and pushed his chair back, "I believe you've taken enough of my money for the night. And I've been neglecting a devastatingly gorgeous date who I think might just miss me just enough to be mad at me now." That charming good guy smile appeared on James' face, the most natural expression Vanessa had in James' bag of tricks. "I should go find her and she how she wants me to make it up to her, if you know what I mean."

Several of the men around the table chuckled and made noises of agreement. Yeah, they knew exactly what James meant. They were one step away from nudging each other with those knowing, waggling eyebrows of college guys. One invited James back to lose more of his money if his date was too mad at him. Frederick remained rather quiet, which was definitely a bad sign.

James left the table and Vanessa went on a hunt for Marie-Ange. She managed to find the redhead just long enough to let her know someone was paying too close attention to James and they should get out while they could. They had a designated meet up planned out already and splitting up would be more effective over all anyhow so they parted ways for the time being. Vanessa knew the spy would charm her way out of the party easily enough. If Frederick didn't realize who James' date was it would help keep them off her trail longer.

On the way out to the garden Frederick found James, however. They stepped outside for "a word" only for Frederick to confront the stranger with a telling question. "Are you one of them?"

Brow furrowing and just the slightest lean forward helped sell the rest of James' body language. "What are you talking about?"

"One of them. The terrorists."

A step back, slow and hesitant. "I've got no idea what you're talking about. Maybe we should just go back inside. Find your.." James' eyes glanced down to Frederick's hand, "wife?"

Frederick took a step in closer, mouth pulling into a frown and one hand clenching. "Are you threatening my wife?"

"Whoa, whoa, I don't know what you're-"

Frederick reached out, presumably to grab James' arm and haul him somewhere. The only thing was Vanessa hadn't done very well with crowds or strangers since she had spent time in the loving care of the New Son scientists. She'd kept it together pretty well all night, struggle though it was, but the prospect of being caught had her react out of instinct. One moment the suspicious party goer was reaching for James, the next the genial-looking American was swinging. The punch had enough force and took the other man by enough surprise that Frederick wound up flat on his back on the floor of the deck.

James took off running into the shadows. Vanessa kept various bushes and trees and plant life between herself and the big house, slowing to a creep once she was around a corner. Light spilled from windows out into the night but there was plenty of darkness to hide in.

Behind a tree, the metamorph stopped to take stock of her situation. She'd just slugged a guy so even if others wouldn't have been eying James too closely before they would be now. Depending on their assault laws it could be enough to haul James into a police station or the Genoshan equivalent. James shouldn't read as a mutant while she was wearing him but that just meant they would have trouble tying her to Xavier's. They could pile enough trouble on her to make wiggling out from under it difficult. She needed the quickest way out of here. There was a tall stone wall surrounding the property so she either needed to get out the main entrance before Frederick could get to her or she needed a tree close enough to the wall to help her get over it.

Even as she scanned the area for possible options she could hear someone yelling from the back of the house. It was probably Frederick.

A couple was taking advantage of the night just on the edge of the light from the house. They were potentially a problem since anyone coming out from the back looking hard enough for James would put them on alarm and they were directly in Vanessa's path to her main entrance getaway. That left the wall.

The voices were getting closer.

There weren't any trees near the wall. None that Vanessa could get to without being spotted most likely. There was maybe one. She peered around the tree toward the back of the house and spotted Frederick and two others rounding the corner. Shit. That left out the tree idea.

This would be a fantastic time to shift if I could fucking control my god damned mutation! Vanessa cringed, closed herself and tried to ignore the impulse to punch the tree she was leaning against, angry at herself and New Son and herself some more for being completely and utterly useless in this moment.

She was just about resigning herself to being imprisoned when she felt her skin begin to tingle. Then her bones shifted under her skin, feeling but not sounding like they were popping and cracking. It was uncomfortable but not painful. It hadn't ever been painful, just strange. She opened James' eyes to confirm what she swore couldn't possibly be happening.

James' was slimming, hips swelling and shoulders narrowing as his skin turned...blue.

"This is not the time or the place to be blue," she told herself as if it would do any good. "Or a woman in a suit. Bad plan, brain. This is a really, really terrible plan." The shifting settled, completing in mere moments. And then it began again, changing her from blue to something less conspicuous.

Vanessa didn't know who she was when the hand came down on her shoulder.