All That Glitters! A Fashionable Foray on Micqueot!

[Jade]

Among the fine architecture, the wonderful sights and smells of Micqueot, Cheri fit in like another cog in the grand machine that was the city. No one paid the well-dressed woman a second thought as she walked down the street, stopping occasionally at a storefront to look through whatever wares were on display. Certainly no one thought it strange when she stopped to converse with a certain shopkeeper, or when she was handed an envelope from that same woman, only to return to her supposed business of window shopping. What cause would they have to question when she entered a café a few blocks down? Perhaps the locals would think it strange when this woman they couldn't recall seeing before walked to the counter, handing that envelope over to the man working the counter, and was then led into the back - but then they would return to their hot drinks and conversations, and she left their thoughts...

---

"You must understand, I do not often take... 'These sorts' of jobs."

Cheri watched the woman across from her closely as she spoke. She didn't need to know all of the details of the job in question; the way she had been contacted, the way she had been lead across the city in this manner, the way two men were sitting at a table in this cellar across the way from them, so clearly paying attention to the negotiation while making it seem like they were enraptured in their own game of cards... "I like to operate as a free agent, and that means not inviting the World Government to put a bounty on my head."

The woman seated across from her... Well, it wasn't that she wasn't pretty, but more that she was dressed in such a way that she was clearly trying to downplay it. The woman had bright orange hair that had been hacked short, which was now only peeking out from underneath her almost shapeless dark beige hat, and brilliant green eyes; shorter than Cheri herself, perhaps a little under average height. Her face seemed intentionally dirtied a bit, especially when compared to her almost pristine-white smile. "We certainly understand that, Miss Gelato, and more than that - this is hardly the first time that we have contacted you and had... Let's say, similar conversations regarding your particularities."

"Which begs the question," the pink-haired woman responded, "of why you would contact me again when I have made it so clear to you that I have no intention of sticking my neck out for you?

"Well, to be quite honest with you..." The woman shifted in her seat, glancing over at the two men seated further back in the cellar before focusing her eyes back on Cheri. "I'm not sure if you heard about it, but an officer of ours was recently taken into custody, alongside a lot of his personal fighting force. They were an odd lot, to be sure, but they were a few of our stronger members out here in the North Blue. So we-"

"Need me to fill in as extra muscle?"

The woman laughed. "You have an impressive track record, Miss Gelato! Someone with your kind of talent is hard to come by." She leaned back in her seat, putting her right arm over the back of the chair. "Look, I know this is a hard sell for you. But don't you want to help a worthy cause?"

Cheri glared at the woman a moment longer, and then abruptly stood, knocking the chair she had been sitting in to the floor with the movement. "Your cause, as worthy as it may be, is no concern of mine!" The two men let their cards scatter as they began moving toward her- But with a gesture from the woman still sitting, they stopped, exchanging confused glances.

"You have your own pain," the woman said, speaking slowly as if sounding out the words, "and we would not want you to risk making that any worse, Miss Gelato. All I ask now is that you listen to what we would seek to accomplish, by making you our ally - if just for a little while." When Cheri made no further move to leave, the redhead continued. "Of course, we would also make sure that you are compensated for your efforts as best we can. We aren't exactly a wealthy operation, but we can do our best to see that you are-"

A low hiss filled the air as the temperature around Cheri dropped, a thin fog beginning to roll from her legs. "Cut to the chase."

The other woman shifted in her chair again as the room actually got colder. "Right. A certain man on the island is the target." She gestured to the men again; one of them turned and hurried off somewhere Cheri could no longer see. "He's been on our watch-list for a while now. Monsieur Reynard, a local businessman and one of the 'social elite'. His inherited vineyards are responsible for a particularly expensive sort of wine, popular throughout the world - but our concern is his engagement with, and hand in operating, the slave trade in Micqueot."

[Rommy]

Snap! Snap! Snap! The Vision Dial's shutter clicked with every new vista captured by its holder. Held aloft, Chanel made sure to capture himself in each and every shot, his other hand flashing a peace sign or similarly cute gesture. At one point, he handed the Vision Dial to an old man, instructing him on its use to get a beautiful picture of himself in front of the mayor's chateaux. The effeminate youth was positively giddy, a wide grin spread across his red lips as he skipped from photo op to photo op. He didn't notice the short, obese man coming in his direction.

Monsieur Reynard looked miffed, evidently frustrated by a conversation held inside the building. "Who does that imbécile mayor think he is?" he wondered aloud to his beleaguered-looking young servant, "I'm a tax-paying citizen, you know! What gives him the right to decide how much property I can own? I should- Hmmmm?" He stopped on his short legs for a moment, then swiftly waddled towards the photographer, cane clicking on the ground as he clutched its silver fox-styled head. Even if Chanel didn't notice him yet, Reynard certainly did, tweaking his upturned sideburn in one hand and grinning with an almost vulpine sneer.

Snap! Snap! Snap! Clap! The last sound rang out, but not from Chanel's Vision Dial. His face turned quickly as his eyes widened in shock to find Reynard, a short, fat man stood at two-thirds his own height (though his top hat was about two feet tall), grinning lasciviously after striking him across the bottom. Chanel visibly grimaced, face turning red as he rubbed where Reynard casually spanked him in public and in broad daylight, more shocked than hurt.

"Ow! Wh-" Chanel began to speak, but Reynard cut him off. "Hey, hey, mon cheri, haven't seen you around here before. Are you new around here?" Chanel's brows furrowed and he pulled away, adjusting his stylish, black bowler hat indignantly. "Garçon. Make with the introduction?" The manservant couldn't be a day over thirteen years old. His brown hair covered his eyes and he looked almost as far from Reynard as possible, tall, gaunt and skinny as though he hadn't eaten in weeks. Despite this, he was dressed well in a pair of suspenders and a flat cap.

"Yes, master… Thank you, master…" he began, only for Reynard to smack him with the cane to make him hurry up. The boy flinched and cleared his throat. "You stand in the presence of Monsieur Reynard, the wealthiest noble of Micqueot. Tall of hat, round of belly, short of stature." Chanel snickered a little and the boy smirked. Reynard raised his cane and bashed the child in the back of the head for the remark, causing him to pitch forward. Chanel moved to catch him, and the boy's hand gripped tight into the fabric of Chanel's frilled shirt as he stifled tears. There was a grin on his face, despite the pain and the blood running down the back of his neck, and he flashed it for Chanel to see. It was clear this wasn't the first time he'd been beaten like that, but he still enjoyed finding ways to bite back.

Reynard scoffed, "You think that's funny, garçon? It's you and me when we get back home. You don't want to be sold off like that brother of yours, do you? Well, then you'd do well to learn how to act around your betters." Chanel's gaze moved from the boy to Reynard, glaring daggers at the cruel little man. "Sorry, chérie, good help is so difficult to buy these days. So sorry for the unpleasantness you just saw. Here's my card, drop by my place later if you'd like. I'm holding a little… soirée later, and woman like you is just the thing I'm looking for." For the moment, Chanel held his tongue but he accepted the card for later. "Thank you, Monsieur Reynard," he said, his face shifting into a polite smile as he curtsied for him.

With a tip of his tall top hat, Reynard turned around, making a small gesture to the boy to follow him. The slave boy got back onto his shaking feet and followed his master home. As they left, Chanel looked over the card. It seemed Reynard was some manner of wine baron who lived uptown. He put his Vision Dial away, adjusted his pants, and swaggered off with his thoughts now focused on the crude man and the child in bondage. There was no question what had to be done: that vineyard needed to be liberated.

Outfit Link

[Jade]

Cheri turned away from the table and paced back and forth across the room while the still-seated woman watched her with an amused grin across her face. It wasn't lost on either of them, nor the one remaining guard, that the chill in the air had vanished after the words "slave trade" had been dropped.

"Ma'am."

The guard who had vanished reappeared, bringing with him a small briefcase that he deposited on the table in front of his boss. She waved him and his companion away, and they departed back up the stairs out of the cellar as she began to work at the case's latches. "You and I haven't met before, Cheri, but I do know a bit about you. I wouldn't have attempted to bring you on despite that knowledge if I didn't think it was worth a try."

The pink-haired woman wheeled around to face the woman, but instead found the opened briefcase blocking her view. Inside were a series of neatly-stacked photos and papers - and then the case was dropped onto the table between them, the woman still smiling up at her. Cheri sighed, using a swift kick to the back of the chair she had knocked to the floor to knock it into the air, where she caught it and brought it back to the floor in an upright position.

"Very well. You have my attention, at the very least. What is it that you revolutionaries need me to do, exactly?"

---

"And, tell me, what business was it that you said you had with the master, again?"

The butler was all but sneering down his nose at Cheri; an absolutely abhorrent attitude that, if the situation were different, she would likely have kicked that nose in for. Instead, she merely kept her attention on the decor of the waiting room she had been escorted into.

Every single room in Reynard's mansion had brought new meaning to the word "gaudy". Things that had no purpose being gilded had been, wall-spanning paintings hung all around here, and the ceilings themselves were vaulted and painted with beautiful murals... On their own, sure, any of them could be taken at face value, but all together, it was all just too busy, with horribly clashing colors and radically different design elements all thrown in together in an attempt to look... Cheri's train of thought ran away as her eyes fell on what looked like a statue of a great king, but his nose had clearly been knocked off, and whatever he had originally been holding in his outstretched hand had been replaced with a basket of fruit.

"A-hem."

Cheri started, sitting up a little straighter on the wine-red couch she had been led to. "Oh, my apologies, I was just," she choked down her own personal feelings with a brief pause, "appreciating your master's tastes. What was the question?"

The reedy butler hmph-ed at that, continuing to glare down at her. "I had asked you what, exactly, it was that you were meeting with Monsieur Reynard about. After all, the master is a very busy man, and - you will have to excuse my language - he cannot be bothered to meet with every dolled-up harlot who comes knocking on his door!"

She gripped the handle of her closed parasol tightly, meeting the butler's condescending gaze with her own icy stare. "And you'll have to excuse my language when I say that a low-down bastard should know better than to stick his nose in a lady's business, but given that neither of us intends to forgive the other, perhaps the matter should simply be dropped."

The butler blanched for a moment, stumbling over his words in his indignation- And then the doors to the waiting room were thrown open as a short, portly man strode in, carrying his hat under his arm. "Ah, so this is where you were, Karlson! I had been wondering where you had gotten yourself off to. Come on, take my hat and coat, and maybe a drink for the lady, eh?" The man of the hour, Reynard himself, gave Cheri a wink, and then thrust his hat into the butler's chest, holding his now-free arms out so the reedy man could begin removing his coat. "So sorry to keep you waiting, but some things can't be helped. I trust I didn't keep you waiting long, mademoiselle?"