VIII-Failing The Initiative Roll [Inaki]

[Ryan D'Alteau]

Doubts will try to break you, unleash your heart and soul!
Trouble will surround you, start taking some control!
Stand up and deliver your wildest fantasy!
Do what the fuck you want to, there's no-one to appease!
______________________________Muse - "Panic Station"

"Look, if I didn't distract those guys on th'roof when I did, there's a damn good chance you'd be full of holes."

Although the Zonda didn't come with its own docking station for his cellphone, it hadn't stopped Ryan from using it while in the car. By investing in a set of earbud headphones with a tiny Bluetooth-esque microphone mounted to them, he simply plugged them in and left his phone in one of the recessed alcoves of the car's centre console. They may not have been designed to contend with the background noise emanating from a 7.3-litre V12 engine from the depths of Italy, but nobody who called him while in the car seemed to have any difficulty hearing him. Maurelle Lacroix, his crime boss employer, was the latest in the somewhat short list of people who had done so and, within moments, the conversation had strayed over to the subject of his actions during the previous time they'd met.

Not having enough faith in his employer's combat abilities to believe she would be able to take on a squad of armed soldiers single-handed, equipped with nothing but a strange scythe which doubled as a bolt-action rifle, Ryan had taken the initiative as he often did, utilising his own ability to sow confusion among the men who had landed on the roof of one of Maurelle's office buildings. By forcing one of them to turn on his allies, he'd forced all of them to exchange bullets. Although he had only managed to give two people some serious shotgun wounds before the rest of the squad had put him down, the sudden shock of the fight being brought to them before they were adequately prepared was enough of a diversion to allow his boss to clear the roof of invaders.

As far as he was concerned, he'd helped Maurelle defend one of her assets in Brownsville; pre-emptively saving her life and being instrumental in the safeguarding of two dozen others. Some sort of private military had effectively mounted an invasion on the outskirts of Brownsville and, as opposed to the National Guard or some other law-abiding force, he had been the one to stop them in their tracks before they could knock down a building. There weren't many people who were capable of performing such a feat and there were even fewer who had done it while wearing a navy blue knee-length dress and a pair of heels. Letting out a sigh as his boss issued him a response, he remembered something. This woman was far from what many would have considered mundane. Being a crime boss, she had been forced to learn how to fend for herself, both in the realm of business and those odd moments when someone tried to employ more physical means to dislodge her from the throne she'd worked to reach.

Playing the 'I just saved your life!' card wasn't going to work with her. "Fine." He had to face facts. There was a reason why he had stayed well away from any sort of debate team in school. Although he could bring forth an argument whenever he liked, he was woeful at avoiding his adversary picking the whole thing apart. He might have been an intelligent man, but he was by no means eloquent. "But, if this'd been any sort o'normal situation, th'both of us would've been hailed as heroes." Ryan saw that particular day as one in which Superman would have struggled to do more. Although the military had been targeting Maurelle - and, by extension, him - and they had been doing nothing more than defending their turf, the fact remained that they'd repelled a small-scale invasion. "It just feels a little crappy t'have you chewin' me out for it."

Up to now, Ryan had been operating on instinct. Usually, when Maurelle saw fit to call him, she was asking him to involve himself in something that required him to exchange his Converse shoes, long-sleeved shirt and jeans for a pencil dress and heels. It was an auditory cue for which he'd been listening out ever since answering the call. But, other than a brief request for him to get in his car and start driving towards the centre of Brownsville, he'd heard nothing. Even for Maurelle's standards, she was being unusually vague today.

Regardless of the trouble in which his initiative seemed to land him whenever he made use of it, Ryan had told Maurelle that he would call her back after having a shower. While it wasn't entirely a falsehood, he still used it as an excuse for him to hang up. She may not have told him to present himself before her under the guise of his female alter-ego, but he was definitely going to prepare for the eventuality. After all, Calla McKnight was still one of her employees. Ryan Alcroft wasn't. Having already gone through the transformative motions ten days prior, there was no need for him to shave his body once again and, once he'd cleaned himself up, he set about sticking the breast forms to his chest and squirming his way into his girdle-like prosthetic. Even with a loose-fitting shirt, his chest was noticeably more substantial than usual and, after bundling a dress, some heels and one of his wigs - he'd decided to have Calla be a redhead today - into the passenger seat of his car, he'd thrown the canvas roof up and done as he'd been asked.

"So, uh..." He began again, trailing off for a moment as his concentration shifted to the act of safely driving his car through the intersection. He'd been in downtown Brownsville for the past few minutes, speaking to his boss on the phone. Given the Zonda's legendarily woeful fuel consumption at the best of timers, he was quietly hoping his boss would get to the point. "...where d'ya need me? I ain't really dressed t'impress right now, but I took a change o'clothes with me, just in case." He didn't know why he was being so vague about it. Maurelle was like Adele and Leah. She knew just about everything there was to know about what lay inside his wardrobe. Well, almost, but she certainly knew about the dresses, heels, wigs and swimwear.

[Helena Rahal]

Twist and shout,
Scream and shout,
Make these the lies you want to believe.

Maurelle was sitting in the living room of her house south of Dallas, staring through the large glass windows at the surrounding woods. After the events of the past week, she had decided to locate for a week or so to her actual home. It was a modest thing, two stories with large glass windows that nearly doubled for walls, as well as a moderately sized pool. Nestled just south of the sprawling metropolis of north Texas, it was somewhere no one would look for her unless they already knew how to find her. She never did ask how Mr. Constant had found his way to her private abode, but she imagined it had something to do with his own special abilities.

Never the less, the full scale invasion by a group of dissidents from the cartel ring she had conducted a hostile takeover of had worn on her. She needed some private time, especially after having to deal with all cover up she had to with regards to not having her fully investigated or her employees arrested. The public believed that it had simply been an unscheduled movie shoot of some action movie that would be out in a year or two. That cover story had set her back a few months worth of profits from her various assets, but such was cleaning costs and the price of having rooted out the rotten parts of her organization. She never much liked the cartel arm of the business, but it was a means to an end, and now it had been effectively eliminated. All in all, well worth the five hundred thousand it had cost her.

However in all of that mess, her errant employee in Ryan Alcroft had deliberately disobeyed orders multiple times. Maurelle had thought that a week in a latex catsuit with a zipper to the more intimate parts would have been a sufficient deterrent following Ryan's first failings. Her assumptions had ultimately proven wrong and now she had to come up with something as severe if not more severe as fitting consequence. She knew what she would do with them if they were not engaged to that menacing doctor, alas, such was the circumstance. Even Maurelle was wary of Adele, despite her own vicious tendencies, that woman was a monster just waiting for the right reason to snap. It was best not to poke at it.

It just so happened that her own charge owed her favor and had a little secret of their own. Maurelle knew that they did not like Ryan Alcroft, but what if it was not Ryan at all that showed up, but just Maurelle's secretary Calla McKnight? Just the thought of what hilarity could ensue, especially if her charge's significant other showed up at the event, well that seemed like just desserts. It would also have her charge have the debt they owed repaid, which was likely something they wished to be rid of after having it hang over their head for a little over two years now.

"Listen Ryan, I am having a friend of mine hold a party there in Brownesville, much akin to the one which we set up for Cantu. The difference is, this one is not a set up and the top criminal minds west of the Mississippi will not be there. It is a simple fund raising party and social event, nothing too extraordinary. You will be there to do whatever my friend desires of you, but here's the catch, they know absolutely nothing about the nature of the part or you. They know I deal in the underworld but that is all, so let us keep it that way. Her name is Helena, she'll be easy to spot.

Maurelle paused for a moment and although Ryan certainly could not see her, Ryan had to know she was also smirking. "Have fun." That was all she said before clicking off the phone and letting out a content sigh. It was a beautiful day, she decided she would go for a relaxing swim and then maybe check in on her little scheme with her abilities afterwards. If anything went astray, her own agents would handle it or get her. This was going to be delightful!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Inaki had wondered when Maurelle would ever call in her favor that he had owe for saving his life that one time. After nearly two years, Inaki began to wonder if perhaps the strange French woman had simply forgotten about it. Though considering she was somehow involved with his darn aunt, that was highly unlikely. Something about Marie and those who worked with her had them holding on to things for awhile, then again so did he hold on to his own disdain for her trying to control his life.

When Maurelle called him and told him she was collecting in on the debt Inaki owed her, he had been afraid of what it might be. Inaki knew that she also somehow was involved in the underground, though how she was and what she did, Inaki was not entirely sure. Whatever it was, the Johessmans did not seem too fond of her, except for Ana, though Ana was quite... personable with just about everyone. However he was quite surprised when he found out it was simply a fund raising dinner for funding a new equality center in Harlingen. Supposedly the center was going to serve as place where the homeless, mentally ill, and the LGBT community could come for support.

It did strike him as odd, given that Maurelle undoubtedly knew about his own "issues" and she did not strike him as an equalist. Yet a little snooping on his part showed that there was in fact a space in the south Texas city that she had bought out was just needing some backing to build the center. Perhaps he had been overly suspicious of his associate's true motives. In the end he agreed to the deal and was walking through the convention center in Brownesville when he was approached by a woman holding a clipboard, her hair up in a beehive, wearing a white blouse, black skirt, and matching pumps.

"Ah, you must be Inaki. Maurelle said you would be early by a few hours. I am surprised at how accurate she was." Almost subconsciously Inaki looked at his watch and noticed that it was three hours before the event was supposed to begin. Well how about that, the French woman either knew him better than he knew himself or she was a precog. He would have to ask her the next time he saw her. "Yes, and you are?"

"Natalie Jones. Now, come with me, we've got to get you ready. Maurelle explicitly said that you were to wear a certain outfit, as is your assistant who is supposed to show up shortly as well." With a surprisingly strong and tight grip, Natalie took him by the wrist and began to almost drag him through the convention center. What did she mean by an outfit and assistant though? What was Maurelle playing at here?

[Ryan D'Alteau]

As the lights are growing dim, freezing cold slowly is fading in!
Another winter night will hold this wicked soul!
I will wait for this new sun to rise; blind in darkness, witness my demise!
Another winter night is so long.
The lands are dressed in the purest white; pure as I was and I am no more.
______________________________Elvenking - "The Winter Wake"

"Listen, Ryan," she began. Ryan rolled his eyes as he heard his boss explain the reasons behind calling him out. Just like many of the employers who had come before him - especially Kiros Monroe - Maurelle was quite adept at laying out the basic gist of a situation while simultaneously keeping everything maddeningly vague. "I am having a friend of mine hold a party there in Brownsville; much akin to the one which we set up for Cantu. The difference is this one is not a setup and the top criminal minds west of the Mississippi will not be there." Well, that was certainly a plus point. After the colossal debacle the party into which the party had eventually devolved, it was a wonder he had managed to get out alive. He'd been abducted by some woman's ability and been involved in a heated, albeit brief, firefight.

As much as his mind was screaming at him to stop being so stupid, he curiosity was piqued by the flickering hope that the party in question would be sufficiently devoid of undesirable elements to prevent a similar descent into chaos. Parties, after all, were meant to be occasions where the guests could relax and have fun. "It is a simple fund-raising party and social event. Nothing too extraordinary. You will be there to do whatever my friend desires of you." So he was going to help out at someone's party. As long as he got to raid the venue's stockpile of alcohol like everyone else, he didn't see much of a problem thus far. Of course, with Maurelle at the helm, problems were seemingly something which went hand-in-hand with just about everything she set her mind on. "But here's the catch: they know absolutely nothing about the nature of the party or you. They know I deal in the underworld, but that is all. So let us keep it that way."

She'd told him all of this and still neglected to tell him whether the bundle of clothes and cosmetics on the seat opposite were actually needed. Now Ryan knew that she was doing this deliberately. To make matters all the worse, the antidote for the semi-permanent adhesive which kept the breast forms fixed to his chest was, as usual, sitting in a drawer back at the condo. Having never needed to transform back from Calla to Ryan while on-duty - and seeing this latest excursion as something similar - he had never deemed it necessary to bring it along, choosing instead to drive home with everything on and undo everything once he'd arrived. Now, much to his slight annoyance, the best he was able to manage was this partial state; a sort of Ryan with a twist that was neither one nor the other. While he could still take off the prosthetic mounted to the girdle, the fact it took nearly five minutes to put the damn thing on in a convincing fashion made even that course of action inadvisable.

"Her name is Helena, she'll be easy to spot. Have fun!" And, with that, Maurelle hung up. She hung up on him, unaware that she'd left her Puppeteer in an aesthetic limbo stemming from his own assumption. Did he take the clothes in with him, hoping that there was a bathroom in the lobby in which he could get changed? Or did he simply walk in as himself, hoping that Helena - or whoever else was staffing the event - wouldn't ask too many questions about the state of his chest. Although it annoyed him that his boss had called him out of the house so easily, his salary was quite the compelling reason to keep him playing along. He was making more in a year than Adele did and doing far less work in the process. The only drawback was that he had to frequently break the law in order to do what was asked of him, while his fiancée simply had to save lives. She was doing the far more laudable work but, between them, they were easily able to maintain their comfortable lifestyle.

As was often the case when he was on assignment for Maurelle, Ryan was led to his destination by way of a text message sent to his phone. Without context, the list of directions were next to meaningless. Although the streets were definitely familiar to him, the fact that there were hundreds of streets across the country which shared their name meant that it was difficult for anyone listening in to be able to pinpoint his location - or the intent of the journey - in a timeframe even remotely short enough to do anything about what he'd been tasked to do. After scything his way through a few city blocks and passing a few landmarks along the way - including the hospital at which Adele worked - his silver Zonda was carefully making its way down the sloped entryway and into the subterranean car park of an executive hotel. Often used for business seminars and various other gatherings, the hotel had far more than its fair share of colossal rooms which were used year-round for anything from presentations to award ceremonies and wedding receptions.

Rather than clamber out of his car immediately, Ryan spent a couple of minutes staring at the bag sitting in the passenger seat. In it, sat a strapless knee-length dress made from purple satin, a pair of pink-and-turquoise, retro-inspired heels and the wig he'd chosen. He contemplated grabbing the bag from the seat and hoping he could find a place to get changed before anyone had the chance to approach him but, without knowing how long he had before the party was scheduled to begin, he elected to leave the bag where it lay and head into the hotel's lobby as he was. After all, he could always return and collect the bag if he needed it.

Although he'd spotted display boards informing him about the fundraiser within seconds of pushing his way through the hotel's glass doors, he was still at a loss as to where Maurelle needed him to be. Being the only person in the large room to whom he could speak, Ryan made his way over towards the reception desk and, hoping that whoever was sitting there wouldn't ask questions about his chest, he got their attention. "Excuse me? I've been sent 'ere t'help out at th'fundraiser, but I've got no idea where I need t'be. My boss said I need t'find someone called Helena. Don't s'pose y'know where she is?"

[Helena Rahal]

Here we go tonight
All the fun and party is tonight
So let us turn the lights down low
and get this part off right

Inaki wondered if just all women with power were well and truly crazy and authoritative. This was far from the first time a woman who was in charge was hassling him about, at least she was not really pulling him along to hard though. Still, navigating through the hotel while being pulled around by someone in front of you and having absolutely no idea what laid at your destination was quite a toll on the feet and nerves.

When they had passed a few hallways and several doors, Natalie finally came to the end of their hallway and another door. Taking a key out, Natalie unlocked the door and opened it, before dragging Inaki in behind her. Inaki did a double take, as what appeared to be a faculty room had been turned into something resembling a preparation room for a movie or Broadway show. There was a few seats in front of large vanities and costumes with accessories all over the place.

Yet what surprised Inaki the most was that there was a woman and man in the room already, but with things in their hands as if they had been waiting on Inaki to show up. "Alright Inaki, Miss Lacroix said to take it easy and relax as these two help you transform into your role for the evening. She said something about turning into Helena. These two are both beauticians and will help you into your outfit as well." She gave quick glance to the two and then a nod to some outfit over in the corner.

"Now if you excuse me, I have to go prepare for your assistant for the evening to arrive." With a brief smile, she left Inaki in the room just as quickly as she had hauled him into the room. The male beautician stepped forward and tried to give Inaki a reassuring smile, though he could clearly see Inaki was clearly not at ease. Dragged halfway across the country by a woman who he was just an acquaintance with and then across the hotel ground floor as well. Only to find out that it seemed a few people were already let in on his secret, though to what extent he was not entirely sure. Maybe they just thought it was a gag or something.

"Mr. Soler sir, I know this is all a bit awkward, but we need to get you ready. If you would just strip out of your outfit, we could begin."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Natalie was not concerned about Inaki, the two beauticians that were sent were both fairly professional. The male worked at the local drag bar while the female was from some movie or another, Inaki was in good hands. Though why Miss Lacroix had gone to such expense for them was beyond her. If Inaki was merely supposed to play some "Helena" part for the evening, then why did he need professional make up beauticians? Ah well, it was not her money being spent.

Speaking of her money, she had to get back to earning her own. At her quickest pace, it still took three minutes to traverse back to the reception desk and there was already another man there. However she did not fail to notice two bumps on his chest, that must have been Mr. Alcroft. She certainly hoped that he was not harassing the staff of the hotel, that was not going to be tolerated.

"I know of no Helena sir, but a Ms. Jones is helping organize a party." Natalie heard right as she walked beside the desk, much to the receptionist relief. Though she knew that all the freaks and geeks were going to show up for the party, she had not expected to be here when they did. Her shift was set to end on the hour and yet here one was, with their fake breasts clear as day. She was not paid enough to deal with this.

"Ah Mr. Alcroft, just in time. Your primary boss for the evening just arrived and is being prepared for the evening. While you are under her direct command, so are you to me. So follow me, I've got to get this show on the road if we're to be ready." Just how much of his role he was to perform she was not sure, but at least he was already a good portion through the initial transformation. That would make the process quite swifter.

"While Helena has two beauticians working on her, I've been told you can perform your own transformation to the party decor. Like her, you've been preselected an outfit for the evening, though we'll get to that when we get you to your accommodations." Much like Inaki, she grabbed by the wrist and began to drag him through the hotel floor level. Unlike Inaki, he was not getting the prep room with the beauticians, but the room on the right at the end of the hallway before Inaki's preparation room.

"Have you been made aware of all the tasks required of you this evening?"

[Ryan D'Alteau]

Less concerned about fitting into the world! Your world, that is!
'Cause it doesn't really matter anymore. None of this really matters anymore!
Yes, I'm alone. Then again, I always was, as far back as I can tell.
I think maybe it's because you were never really real to begin with.

______________________________Nine Inch Nails - "Only"

"I know of no Helena, sir." Although the receptionist was polite and professional on the exterior as her occupation commanded, Ryan was quick to spot the stern glare that she was firing his way. Usually, when someone was glaring at him, there weren't many reasons as to why. The stresses of their respective job was one which often headed the list. Having been around Adele for around four years, it was a side effect to which he had become completely accustomed. His fiancée's personality was such that stress only exacerbated her negative responses. Many of their arguments had been down to that precise factor or a combination of both it and something he had done.

This woman, however? Well, she didn't seem stressed at first glance, but the one thing even Ryan could see she was was annoyed. With it being the mid-afternoon, there was every chance that she had been trying to while away the tail end of her shift when he'd walked in and, with knowledge of the events set to transpire that evening freely available to both the employees of the hotel and the citizens of Brownsville, it didn't take long for her to determine why Ryan had showed up. Nor did it take Ryan long to realise where she was staring. As loose as his shirt may have been, the 38C breast forms were more than substantial enough to create a pair of mounds that were next to impossible to hide without the aid of a chest binder. "But a Ms. Jones is helping organise a party."

A small part of Ryan - the part of him that was still unaccustomed to wearing precisely what he was wearing under his normal clothes - was dreading what the receptionist thought of him at this point. There was something about her that suggested she wasn't too approving of him but, thankfully, the vast majority of Ryan simply didn't care. He'd done a lot of things which proved to his detractors that he couldn't care less about what they thought of him. Whether they despised him for being a special, being the man who'd killed the previous President or revelling in the enjoyment of donning clothing that may not have been originally intended for him, the words he often had in response were often terse and comprising of four letters or less.

Ryan was about to inquire as to the location of this mysterious Ms. Jones when a second woman suddenly made herself known. "Ah, Mr. Alcroft. Just in time." Lately, he'd become somewhat wary when his reputation - or even his name - preceded him. It suggested that they knew... not everything about him, but enough to speak his name with that slight hint of condescension that caused him to despise those pretentious rich types. But, as he was here at Maurelle's behest, he felt it more than prudent to play nice. "I'm guessin' you're Ms. Jones?" It was a reasonable assumption to make, considering how she was dressed. Clad from head to toe in casual office wear, she kept a clipboard clutched in one hand while she dealt with the matter at hand.

Which, right now, was him. "Your primary boss for the evening just arrived and is being prepared." She must have been referring to Helena, he thought. But, if Helena was to be the woman to whom he answered for the next few hours, why would she need to be prepared elsewhere? Shouldn't she have been ready to meet him at the door? "While you are under her direct command, so are you to me." Well, wasn't that nice? Not only was she businesslike to the point of annoyance, she also had it in her head that she was the boss of him. As far as Ryan was concerned, the only people whose commands he followed were those of Maurelle and any she explicitly stated. It kept things simple and, up to now, she had only named Helena as being sufficiently worthy.

Unfortunately, this wasn't a situation in which Ryan would be having much of a say. "So follow me." What sounded like an instruction was rendered anything but as the woman's hand clamped insistently around his left wrist. Although he towered over her - as he did with many people - he still found himself subserviently walking along behind her. In any normal circumstances, he would have wrenched his arm free of her grasp; not something he found difficult but, considering he was on thin ice with Maurelle and this was likely another of her punishment tasks, Ryan reined in his rebellion. For now. "I've got to get this show on the road if we're to be ready."

Beneath his shirt, Ryan could feel the silicone breast forms fixed to his chest jiggling slightly, their weight shifting enough to be noticeable against his skin. Allowing himself to be led through the doors leading out of the entrance hall and into the rest of the lobby floor, he quietly took note of what Natalie had to say. "While Helena has two beauticians working on her, I've been told you can perform your own transformation to the party decor."

"Well, yeah..." Speaking so candidly about his transformation from Ryan into Calla with someone he didn't know was incredibly unsettling for him. As much as the women he'd met through Sophie - Leah Marchand and her five friends - had told him to dismiss the opinions of others on the subject and take the new facets of his personality in his stride, it was certainly something he found harder in practice. "I can do it m'self. Though I didn't bring any make-up with me. What is th'party decor, anyway?"

Natalie, however, had her mind on other things. Getting her latest arrival situated, for example. She'd probably answer his questions later. "Like her, you've been preselected an outfit for the evening, though we'll get to that when we get you to your accomodations." A preselected outfit? All of a sudden, Ryan felt the all too familiar sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach; the feeling he'd felt when Adele had found the pink PVC two-piece outfit in which Sophie had forced him to drive home. The accomodation wasn't really what Ryan deemed fitting to be given the title. While the space was obviously a dressing room, it was a somewhat spartan affair, including only enough in the way of amenities for a single person. There was a vanity mirror complete with a counter on which he would have been able to place his bag of clothes, were they actually needed. A second door on the side wall led to what he assumed was a small bathroom and, aside from a chair positioned before the mirror, that was about it.

But he wasn't complaining. From how Maurelle had spoken to him on the phone, she could have quite easily requested that he be made to go through his whole transformation in the lobby. The dressing room wasn't much, but he'd make do with what he'd been given. "Have you been made aware of all the tasks required of you this evening?"

That was definitely a good question. Despite trying to get additional insight out of her, Maurelle had told him remarkably little about what he'd got himself into. "I've not been made aware of any of my tasks f'this evening, t'tell you th'truth. The person who asked me t'come here didn't say much on the phone." Letting out a small sigh, he leaned his shoulder against the wall just inside the dressing room. "All she told me was that I'd be helpin' out at a party."

[Helena Rahal]

Now I am free,
Free Falling

"Wait, what now?!" Inaki exclaimed, flabbergasted by the request of the man. What was Maurelle playing at, making him strip to transform into Helena, and in front of a man no less? Just the thought of doing that made his stomach get tied up in knots. It was just too much to ask of him, even if it meant that he would have to find another way to become square with Maurelle. Being naked in front of a man was just something that Inaki was not going to do.

Sensing Inaki's distress, the woman reached behind her and pulled out a ziplock that contained something in it. Inaki was not able to figure out what they were though, but he had to guess that they were some sort of clothes since they looked a bit like lace. Coming up to him, the woman handed over the ziplock to Inaki and put a reassuring hand over his as she did. "Here, put these on after you have stripped of your clothes. My name is Macy by the way and the knucklehead is Blake."

Giving Blake a nudge in the stomach, Macy turned back around and went to prepare the make up and other accessories they would need. Blake got the clue and did the same, leaving Inaki without a direct audience for his change of clothing. Despite that, it still felt completely awkward and he dreaded what may have been in the bag. What were they going to say or think when they saw the two bumps on his chest from growing his own small breasts to breastfeed his children? It make him feel so out of place and dreadfully small.

Reluctantly, Inaki opened the ziplock and removed the garments. To his surprise there was a black lace panty with turquoise trim that was his size in it. However there was also a black lace bra... that was two cup sizes larger than the buds on his chest required. It seemed that Maurelle knew him far better than he would have liked at all, yet why was she doing this? If she knew about Helena, then she knew that Inaki could do the transformation on his own...

With a resigned sigh, he mustered all the courage and speed he could as he removed his polo, trousers, and briefs before delicately sliding the panties up his legs and the bra on. His two small buds looked ridiculous inside the two cups protruding from his chest and he was actually feeling sad that he could not fill out the cups. That though was a thought that he would keep to himself, it was bad enough that two complete strangers were going to see him like this.

He found himself into one of the chairs in front of the vanities and sat down and closed his eyes. "Alright, I am changed and ready... I suppose." He managed to say, with Macy coming over and leaning above his shoulder, giving him an encouraging whisper. "Don't worry hun, when we're done with you, your own mother wont recognize you and you will be a total knockout."

Inaki highly doubted that, but he was going to let the two do the work they were employed to do. Blake came over and knelt at his feet, removing his socks, before beginning to give what seemed like a pedicure. "Miss Lacroix said to give you the works, a full beauty treatment. Mani-pedi, hair dye and cut, as well as a makeover. So sit back princess, we've got a few hours of work ahead of us."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Natalie frowned, it seemed that Mr. Alcroft was completely amiss about the duties they were supposed to perform for the evening. Everything else had been planned and set in such a way, how had Miss Lacroix managed to have this sort of oversight? That just did not seem like something she could do... unless she had purposely left the man in the dark about what was to expected of him. If she did, that was a bit cruel, but far be it for Natalie to tell Maurelle to handle her affairs.

"In that case Mr. Alcroft, let me explain what you are set to do. As I have already told you, you are an assistant to Helena for the evening. Whatever she needs you are to see to, but that is just the start of it. In truth, Natalie knew she was the organizer of this entire event. Helena was simply the showpiece, the figurehead for the party, probably because she was a friend of Miss Lacroix.

"On top of that, you are to see to the guests. Nothing to extraordinary, that is why there is serving staff after all. Just ask for their coats, make sure they are being served and those sort of things. Also mingle with the guests when Helena is for one reason or another unable to attend to all those attending. You are here to make sure both Helena and the party goers have a good time essentially." It was an easy enough job, though she truly wondered with that accent if Ryan could pull it off.

"As for make up and other materials, just search the drawers of the vanity, they have been supplied with everything you need. In the closet their is your outfit, a latex uniform modeled off the Star Trek franchise. As such, I've also been requested to inform you that you are to introduce yourself as Ensign Candi for the evening. I will be at the party as well, judging and assisting you and Helena. Miss Lacroix will have a detailed account of it all. Why she needed a written report about how Ryan performed and behaved was none of Natalie's business. It was just part of her job and she was not going to say no when she was getting paid as well as she was.

"Now, I have to see to the staff, so I will leave you to it. If you need any help, just go back to the reception desk, they will know how to get in touch with me."

[Ryan D'Alteau]

Son, if the sun don't shine...
...I'll try like hell to make light from the dark for you.
______________________________Coal Chamber - "Tyler's Song"

Exhaling with a slight hint of annoyance, Natalie levelled her gaze at Ryan once more. "In that case, Mr. Alcroft, let me explain what you are set to do." Like him, she knew what Maurelle was like as a businesswoman, which made his lack of knowledge something of an oddity in itself. Usually, when her subordinates were sent out on assignment, she ensured that they were told everything they needed to know in order to get the job done in an efficient manner. They knew where they were going, the reasons why they were going and precisely what they were there to do and, once they'd left her sight, it was up to them to do her proud and successfully return.

By neglecting to tell Ryan much of what she usually did, Natalie had come to two separate conclusions. Either she had sent him here to be quietly assassinated by another of her employees which, at a party, was somewhat unlikely due to the number of witnesses, or she had sent him here as some sort of punishment. By not telling him the specifics, it was easier to get him to play along and obey until the point where he was completely unable to back out. Natalie didn't really know why Ryan was in Maurelle's employ and, to be frank, she didn't really care. She had a party to run and he was going to help her do it, just as Inaki was. "As I've already told you, you are an assistant to Helena for the evening. Whatever she needs, you are to see to. But that is just the start of it."

Ryan stayed silent and kept his attention firmly on the clipboard-toting woman standing before him. Helena - and his need to meet up with her - was about the only thing Maurelle had told him and, up to now, the enigmatic woman was nowhere to be found. "I gathered that much already,", he sighed. He may not have been the best of Maurelle's employees, but he didn't need every little detail drumming into his head over and over again. "But that still doesn't tell me what I'm actu'lly meant t'do."

"On top of that," Natalie spoke again, emphasising her syllables to ensure that she was cutting Ryan off. There was brief pause as she fired the briefest of stern glares in his direction, daring him to interrupt her again. Was he new or something? There was always a hierarchy, even when he wasn't in Maurelle's ivory tower. "You are to see to the guests. Nothing too extraordinary; that is why there's serving staff, after all. Just ask for their coats, make sure they're being served and those sorts of things." Well, that didn't sound so hard. It was a duty oddly reminiscent of the party he'd attended with Maurelle where, before the shit had hit the fan, he'd been greeting the guests and making sure they were happy. "Also, mingle with the guests when Helena is, for one reason or another, unable to attend to them. You're here to make sure both Helena and the party goers have a good time, essentially."

Reaching a hand down to the hem of his shirt, Ryan was momentarily tempted to pull it off and expedite his change into whatever the party needed him to wear. But, as he straightened out his posture, the jiggling around his chest suddenly gave him pause. "Sounds, uh..." In his haste to put on his prosthetics and leave the house while also keeping his clothing options open, Ryan had forgotten to bring any sort of lingerie with him. It was a little awkward, to say the least. "Sounds easy enough. I'm quite capable of playin' nice."

Ever since his run-ins with Sophie; the strange events which had opened his eyes to this new fun part of his overall identity, he had found it easy to shift his voice into a more feminine tone, so much so that he was almost convinced he'd been given an extra voice by the immortal biokinetic by mistake. However, having only used his natural voice since his arrival, Ryan could see the occasional dubious looks Natalie adopted whenever he spoke, almost as if she was wondering how a man with such a rugged British accent could ever sound convincing as a member of the opposite gender. "As for make-up and other materials, just search the drawers of the vanity. They've been supplied with everything you need."

"Oh. Thanks." Pushing himself away from the wall, Ryan made his way over to the drawer-ridden desk in question. Sure enough, each of the drawers were stocked with a wide range of cosmetics and beauty-enhancing implements, ranging from lipstick and eyeshadow, all the way to a hairdryer and what looked like a box of hair removal lotion. It wasn't as good as the batch he had at home, but it would certainly suffice if he needed to banish any short hairs he'd managed to miss the last time. Taking a few tubes of lipstick and a small box filled with various styles of fake eyelashes from the uppermost drawer, he set them down on the counter and turned back towards Natalie.

It was only now that he spotted the large wardrobe nestled against the wall. With the bathroom jutting out in the corner, it allowed the furniture in the main body of the dressing room to be situated in unintrusive locations in order to allow the occupant easy access in and out. Realising that Ryan was likely going to open it and look inside anyway, Natalie continued her verbal tour. "In the closet there is your outfit; a latex uniform modelled off the Star Trek franchise." Sure enough, hanging from a solitary rail fixed to the top of the wardrobe, was a knee-length pencil dress with long sleeves, coloured to look just like the iconic Starfleet uniform. On a shelf next to it, sat a platinum blond wig. It may not have been too different to his natural hair, but its style would have made him look like one of those old-school sci-fi girls, dressed in tight clothes with harshly cropped hair in an odd view of futuristic formal wear.

Ryan wasn't too big on Star Trek by any stretch but, if this was to be his only choice as to what he was going to wear at the party, he could stand to shroud himself in the layer of rubber for one evening. But Natalie wasn't finished quite yet. "As such, I've also been requested to inform you that you are to introduce yourself as Ensign Candi for evening." Not only was he being asked to wear an outfit he wasn't completely keen on, but Natalie was now expecting him to refer to himself by a name a cosplaying stripper might use. "I will be at the party as well, judging and assisting you and Helena. Miss Lacroix will have a detailed account of it all."

He would have argued. But, with everyone who outranked him at this party apparently having some sort of connection to Maurelle, the last thing he needed was another excuse for his boss to reprimand him once again. While he could (eventually) get over the humiliating punishment exercises she seemed intent on putting him through every time he stepped out of line, the one thing he didn't want was for her to fire him outright for pissing off the wrong person. "Fine," he sighed begrudgingly as he took the components of his outfit from the wardrobe. The dress was draped over the back of the chair, the wig - still on its stand - was placed onto the vanity counter and the pair of shiny, thigh-high heeled boots - which he'd missed the first time due to them being camouflaged against the shadows, were placed down on the floor beside the chair.

"Now, I have to see to the staff, so I'll leave you to it." Despite the dressing room offering him just about everything he would need that he hadn't already been wearing, the one thing he hadn't yet spotted was some spare lingerie. Maybe, he thought, whoever had stocked the room had been expecting him to bring his own. It was an oversight on his part and, while he was relatively happy to dress up in the costume Natalie - and, by extension, Maurelle - wanted him to, he wasn't about to go commando in the process. He really only felt comfortable doing that around the condo, where the only person he had to worry about looking down his pants was his fiancée. "If you need any help, just go back to the reception desk, they will know how to get in touch with me."

"Wait, hold on." Ryan suddenly called out, stopping the party's administrative assistant in her tracks. "Y'can help me out, now y'mention it. I sort of forgot t'bring a set of lingerie with me. If y'can have someone bring me a pair, I, uh... I'd appreciate it." He had no idea where, if at all, the party kept spare clothing for the employees and, even if they did, Ryan somehow doubted that women's underwear would be among the stockpile. Nevertheless, it didn't hurt to ask and, as Natalie closed the door to his dressing room, Ryan set about getting himself ready. Deciding to wait and see if Natalie complied with his request before putting the dress on, he took off his shirt and jeans and, wearing nothing but his boxer shorts and prosthetics, began work on his make-up.

Now that he knew what he'd be wearing for the party, he could augment it with something he felt would make sense. After coating his face in a layer of concealing foundation, he applied a coat of glittering dark-blue eyeshadow before sticking a set of the fake eyelashes over the top of his real ones. Once they were firmly in place, he carefully brushed some waterproof mascara onto them before moving onto the lipstick. Blinking his eyes a few times to ensure that they wouldn't fall off during the party, he surveyed the tubes of lipstick with which he'd been supplied and, after a few moments, found one which was a close match to the crimson shade of his uniform.

As he was meant to be portraying a member of Starfleet, Ryan elected to ignore the selection of clip-on earrings and move straight onto the box of acrylic nails. Although they weren't as large as the ones he had at home, Ryan knew their size and pale pink polish would certainly help to obfuscate his true identity from the guests. Setting the box on the counter, he added them to the list of things he would put on after his dress. As he had decided to pull the dress up from his feet rather than try to slip it on over his head, he saw no harm in putting his wig on. Having worn a wig every time he had ventured out in public as Calla, it was an effortless process and, within minutes, there was suddenly a topless woman with a full compliment of make-up staring back at him in the mirror. Sometimes, it disturbed him how easy he now found it to transform himself like this and, once he was using the right voice, there were people who only gave him a second glance because of how tall he was.

Without lingerie, there was very little he could do with his dress so, while he waited for someone to bring some to him, he decided to practice putting on the pair of lace-up, thigh-high boots. Having only worn high heels up to this point, the sensation of threading his hairless leg into a tube of leather was unusual to say the least but, once he'd figured out the lacing process at the back of the boots, he was able to fasten them tightly and rise to his feet. Doing so only caused a nagging question to arise; one which had plagued him ever since meeting Sophie. How had he not been revealed as what he truly was when he was so damn tall? With the boots on, he was now 6'7" and, barring the attendance of a professional basketball player or Greg Davies, he would be the tallest living thing at the party. Had anyone here actually made a note of his above-average height?

[Helena Rahal]

I'm in the business of misery
Lets take it from the top

Inaki did not take too kindly to being called princess. There was only three or four people on Earth that he could tolerate calling him princess and all of them were half a continent away. Despite the fact that he had obvious gender issues, even if these two were not clued in entirely on it, being called princess was a big no no. That netted Blake a stare of death from Inaki, luckily for Blake, his eyes were already cast down and working on Inaki's feet and toes.

Inaki managed to see that on top of the base coat and clear concealer, the polish that Blake had beside him was a neon blue slash turquoise. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but considering the panties he had on had turquoise as well, Inaki wondered if there was perhaps a theme going on here. However his head was jerked backwards by Macy pulling on his hair. It seemed that his light brown hair was about to be turned into some other shade, hopefully it was just a temporary dye.

Inaki sat and endured the treatment at the hand of the two beauticians. Closing his eyes and thinking of his wife and how much fun he was going to have with her once he went home was enough to keep him from being too upset by the so called treatment. Both sets of his nails had in fact been painted turquoise and with the top coat, sealed in until his daily activities slowly chipped away at the polish. That was going to take quite awhile with the sealant, he hoped Felicia liked turquoise on him!

It also seemed for the intents and purposes of the night, his hair had been turned a jet black and even trimmed! It resembled that of a sci-fi take on the female bob, which had become popular in the late 1910s and early 20s with the flapper movement. It was a very sexy cut in the way they did and Inaki could not lie that he actually liked the way it fell on his features. Features that had been completely done over with the skill expected of professional make up artists. Sitting in the mirror was a sexy woman in her lacy lingerie, even if she was slightly small chested.

"One last touch for the evening. This will be our little secret darling." Macy told him before placing a hand on his cheek and giving him a very weird smile. It was halfway between a sly smile and overdone smirk. There was a warmth emanating from her touch, a warmth that was familiar even if it had been years since he had felt it. It was the work of a biokinetic and sure enough, it was just moments before he felt the curves of the bra cups against his own breasts and nipples. Unlike the previous times he had undergone such a transformation, she had left the pipework in tact.

Before Inaki could speak though, Blake was in front of him holding up another garment. It looked something like an elaborate catsuit and only when he saw the ring on the back of it did it fit into place. He had just been turned into almost a carbon copy of Quorra from Tron: Legacy. She was the beautiful assistant, later turned out to be the last of her kind, character from the aesthetically pleasing and soundgasm of a film. Inaki... more rather Helena found herself very attractive and secretly wanted Felicia there with her for a kinky bout of intimacy. Alas, there was a party to get to hosting.

With Macy's help, as Helena was certainly not about to let a man help her get dressed, Helena worked herself completely into the catsuit. Much to her surprise, Macy had to use a spray of some sort to lubricate her skin so that the suit went on easier. Even so, it still took five minutes to get it on and properly adjusted, completing the look for the evening. "I'm now allowed to tell you that it is going to be a sci-fi themeed party. Still, with my handywork, you will be the most beautiful and amazing of all the attractions and guests. Now go to the reception desk and give the hell!"

Helena had to eat her thoughts, she really had turned out to be pretty, much better than anything her own ability with make up could craft. Then again, having the services of a biokentic was just a tad unfair. Looking up at the clock, the transformation had actually only take an hour and a half. Such amazing work had taken such little time. Now was to go see if she could find Natalie again or whoever this assistant was supposed to be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Natalie nearly blanked at Ryan's request. How could he have forgotten something so essential to the task? Granted he did not know what he would be doing, but certainly he already had an understanding of the transformation that was going to be needed. Why else would he have shown up with his fake breasts and prosthetic over the groin that had given him that perfect feminine front?

There was no time to go procure a set of lingerie for him and Natalie simply stormed out as she tried to get her mind around it. There was a solution but she did not want to use it, since that was supposed to be a secret. She had her own back up pair in her purse out in her car, but those were in case she had found herself a date at the end of the evening and wound up spending the night not in her own bed. Grr, this was going to cost Mr. Alcroft indeed.

Getting the pair, she returned to the room and tossed the neon orange thong at the man. She didn't care about his state of dress or if they even fit, that was all she had and he was going to have to make do. Just like she apparently had to if she did manage to get lucky this evening. The things she did for this job...

[Ryan D'Alteau]

There is no you, there is only me.
______________________________Nine Inch Nails - "Only"

If Natalie had been annoyed with him when he'd arrived, then she was borderline livid when she heard his request for lingerie. Having devised her own contingencies for the evening in case she found herself on someone's arm by the time the party met its conclusion, she had hidden a spare set of underwear in her purse, ready to wear when she awoke the morning after. It was far from anything she was prepared to wear on an everyday basis, but it was something which would suffice and conceal her modesty until she got home. Why? Why had Maurelle employed him in the first place? Had she decided to entertain the apparent novelty of a man who dressed up like a woman whenever he went to work? Or was there some other agenda involved? He might have had some expertise her boss found useful. Maybe that was it.

Nevertheless, she was going to have to hand over the spare undergarments from her car. If Ryan - or Ensign Candi, as he'd be calling himself in a few hours time - was this inept before the party had even begun, then she wanted to do as much in the way of damage control while she still had the chance. The rest of his clothing would have to be enough for covering his breasts, but she wasn't about to let him be an ambassador to Ms. Lacroix by going commando. If she had her way, she would have been altering his itinerary and giving him the most degrading jobs she could think of. But, alas, it wasn't for her to decide. Helena was the one with that particular right.

After hurrying down to the car park, she collected her purse and stormed her way back up to the main body of the hotel. The trip itself hadn't been that lengthy but, in her mind, it was a journey she shouldn't have had to make. If Ryan had actually remembered to bring everything he needed in order to assume his feminine guise, she wouldn't be as angry as she was right now. But, as she threw open the door and hurled the underwear at him, she realised that she might have had the last laugh, after all. Rather than something modest or elegant, like some black lace panties, she remembered that she had simply grabbed something at random without any real care for aesthetic elegance. As she watched Ryan stare in slight disbelief at the neon orange thong she'd given him, there was a mischievous spark in her eyes. Only when she'd turned away and closed the door did she actually start to smile again. Like the latex Starfleet uniform, the thong was his only option when it came to underwear. He'd have to wear the trashy article of underwear. He had no choice. The only way it would be better is if she watched him bend over to pick something up from the floor.

Ryan didn't even get the opportunity to thank Natalie for her rather dubious assistance before she closed the door and went on her way. With a small shrug of his shoulders, he took the leather boots off his feet for the moment and began to finally get dressed. Although he wouldn't be wearing a bra for the whole evening, the fact he wasn't really able to back out of his current predicament meant he could only persevere. After pulling the thong up around his prosthetic-covered crotch and feeling somewhat thankful that it actually covered the false, yet eerily realistic section of shaped flesh between his thighs, he grabbed the latex dress from the back of the chair and, after unzipping the back, found his vision drawn to the small label on the inside.

As well as offering instructions for cleaning the garment, it also informed him that, in order to expedite the process of putting it on, he would have to use a layer of lubricant spray. Thinking back, he clambered out of his chair and made his way back to the wardrobe. Having had his attention drawn to the clothes by Natalie's explanation, he had immediately discounted what he believed to be a can of furniture polish, thinking it had been something left behind by the cleaning crew. Now, however, he was able to see that it was indeed a can of latex lubricant; a substance which was safe to apply to the skin to allow the normally clingy material to glide into place against his skin. Although parts of his body were themselves covered in silicone latex, a quick look at the label was enough to put his doubts to rest. It was just as safe on latex as it was on his skin and, without much more hesitation, he sprayed both his thighs and torso as well as the inside of the Starfleet uniform with the contents of the can.

To his surprise, the lubricant made what he gathered to be a difficult task surprisingly easy and, after a few moments of struggling, he was able to slip the uppermost part of the dress onto his shoulders and slide the zip up his spine until he felt it grind to a halt, his torso and upper thighs now completely encased in the thin layer of rubber. With nothing else to do, Ryan sat himself down and, once his boots were on his feet and fully laced up, he finally permitted himself to emerge from the dressing room he'd been assigned. Although he'd been dressing up to work for Maurelle on a number of occasions now, it had been quite a while since he had last worn something so outlandish. The week as a scantily-clad office drone was likely going to be fresh in his mind for quite a while. It had been his first taste of what Maurelle was happy to put him through if she felt his performance to be unsatisfactory.

Realising that the hall in which the party was going to be held was likely still being set up, Ryan decided to head back towards the reception area. Within the space of a few steps, he felt himself slipping back into a more feminine character; his hips swaying slightly as he moved and, despite being a little over six and a half feet tall with the boots on, he was doing his best to maintain a sense of graceful elegance. When he reached the hotel's front entrance, it was as if he'd become a different person entirely, his size being the only thing that really marked him as the man who had arrived the better part of an hour ago. He could see a somewhat shorter woman standing in the middle of the lobby, dressed in a black-and-silver catsuit with her jet black hair styled into a retro-inspired bob, much like the style into which his platinum blond wig had been shaped. She reminded him of Olivia Wilde's character from the new Tron movie and, with the party being a science-fiction theme, it wasn't too much of a stretch to have someone cosplaying from it.

"Excuse me, ma'am..?" With his feminine tone of voice now present, he got the attention of the other woman. He wasn't sure if this was who he'd been sent to meet, nor did he know if she knew who he was. But it didn't hurt to try. "I'm sorry, but are you Helena? My name is C-..." No, wait. He wasn't meant to use that name today. The rule was already making him shudder. "My name is Ensign Candi. I'm meant to be assisting you tonight?"

[Helena Rahal]

Nothing compare to
A quiet evening alone
Just the one two I was counting on
That never happened

Each step out of the hallway had Helena sinking more into what was all too natural role. Her steps had a slight sway and her chest was poofed out just a bit, trying to put her breasts out on display. She did not know why, it was not like her to try and show off her body to anyone but Felicia. Felicia however always seemed intent on trying to get her to indulge in extramarital affairs since she did. While it was far and away from her conscious mind, maybe she just might look to do so tonight. As far as she was aware, Felicia was half a continent away and tonight she was a VIP. Perhaps she should take what she wanted.

As she strolled forth, she actually decided to take in the hotel decor since she was not being dragged through the hallway this time. The hallways themselves were a calming off white color with a royal blue stripe and trim. The doors cut away in a neat way and not like they were just thrown in there to be room. It might have been a place she would stayed in herself if she was staying in the city for business or something.

Which made her come to a realization, she did not have any accommodations for the evening. Did Maurelle have that covered as well or was she expected to find her own? At some point she was going to have to call the French woman and get some clarification on the matter. Perhaps this was a game of hers within this little show that she had Helena hosting, find somewhere or someone to give her a place to stay for the evening? ... No, that sounded something more like Felicia do.

Helena pushed the thought from her mind as she reached the reception area and looked around for Natalie. Unfortunately she was not here nor anywhere in Helena's sight with the receptionist already looking more than a little on edge. Helena wondered if perhaps the woman did not approve of the function that was going to be starting shortly. That could certainly explain away the scowl on her face, or perhaps she was merely at the end of her shift or having a bad day. All the same, she did not seem like someone Helena should trifle with right now.

Standing there, trying to figure out just what to do now, she was surprised when another woman approached her. The thing that immediately stuck out was not the height of the woman, but the very... risque outfit that she was wearing. It was like someone took the traditional Star Trek officer uniform and ratcheted up the sex factor. However given that it was something that was definitely Sci-Fi related, it clicked to Helena that this person was either a guest or part of the staff for the evening.

It turned out to be the latter as she spoke, looking down on Helena due to her standing over half a foot taller than her even in the platform boots Helena had on. It seemed that this was the so called assistant that she was going to have for the evening, though Helena nearly cringed as she said her name. Someone... probably Maurelle, seemed to be having a good deal of fun at this girl's expense, making her use a degrading stripper or prostitute name and in that outfit. Helena pitied her.

"Nice to meet you... Candi. I am indeed Helena, though to be honest, I have no idea what I am supposed to be doing this evening. You do not happen to have any idea do you?"

[Ryan D'Alteau]

As the catsuit-wearing woman turned around to greet her, Ryan could see the flesh around her eyes soften somewhat as she took in his ensemble. She was pitying him and, after what he'd been ordered to put on, it wasn't hard to think why. At Maurelle's behest, he was expected to wear a tight-fitting dress made entirely from latex and a set of heeled leather boots which stretched almost all the way up his thighs. Between his clothes and make-up, as well as only having a neon orange thong to conceal his crotch from plain sight, he looked like a stripper or some other brand of exotic entertainer. Being forced to call himself Candi certainly didn't help matters. "Nice to meet you... Candi," the shorter woman replied, eventually speaking after taking a moment to look him over.

Already, Ryan was slightly annoyed. With how perfect this woman looked; how each and every part of her outfit seemed as though it was meant to be there, he couldn't help but wonder if her hair and make-up had been professionally orchestrated. Having been left alone with nobody to distract him, he had heard the odd distant voice in the background while he'd been painstakingly applying his own make-up. From the few words he'd been able to make out, the man and woman had likely been beauticians or theatrical wardrobe assistants. Perhaps they'd been assigned to the woman stood before him? Then again, this was meant to be a punishment for him. Their presence was likely deliberate. "I am indeed Helena though, to be honest, I have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing this evening."

On the bright side, Ryan had at least found the woman he'd been sent here to meet. What was infuriating was that she didn't seem to be the experienced authority on hosting a party he'd assumed her to be. The clock fixed to the wall above the receptionist's desk informed him that it was a little after 5:15 in the evening and, while it was still some time before the sun finally sank beneath the horizon, the noticeboard stated that the party would be starting at six o'clock. If his own experiences at being a hostess were anything to go by, the guests who would be in attendance at formal events such as this usually arrived early, mingling amongst themselves in the lobby or in some other suitably large area before being allowed to make their way to the hall, where they would be officially welcomed.

"You do not happen to have any idea, do you?"

Realising that they were likely not meant to be seen at the front of the hotel in case a guest showed up, Ryan politely beckoned Helena over, silently commanding her to follow him back the way he'd came. "I might." Hidden beneath his new look and his feminine voice, he was virtually unrecognisable. The only way he would ever be found out here - or so he hoped - was if someone who already knew the secret surrounding his double life was on the guest list. No matter how many times he made use of the voice the side-effects of Sophie's well-natured meddling had given him, Ryan could scarcely believe that the natural sounding feminine voice was really coming from him. "I've actually hosted a couple of parties like this before." Granted, one had ended in a firefight, while the other had resulted in him getting shot by a police officer over a misunderstanding stemming from fetish wear, but his experience was still relevant.

And, hopefully, with people like Adele and Jésus Morales out of the way, he could actually help to keep things civil and generally party-like. "As far as I know, you're meant to be pretty much the boss here tonight. I think you're sharing the authority with Ms. Jones; y'know, the woman with her hair up and always carrying a clipboard?" If Helena had been sent here for similar reasons to himself, then there was no doubt that she had also met Natalie; the slightly abrasive workaholic who seemed to tolerate failure and insubordination less than Maurelle did. The only difference was that she didn't have the power to do anything about such people.

Ryan had no idea where he was going for the most part and, after nearly three minutes, only managed to find the entrance to the grand hall which would be housing all of the guests by sheer luck. Much like the building in which he and Maurelle had entertained the paragons of the criminal community, the entrance was marked by a small courtyard-like area; a section of the passageway which opened out considerably in order to accommodate the influx of guests. It was elegantly decorated to match the rest of the hotel and, in order to facilitate the process by which everything was set up, one of the doors had been left open. "Once Ms. Jones gives the word for the party to begin, I'm most likely gonna be here." Ryan hadn't yet been given the specifics but, now that he was in his professional, albeit feminine, frame of mind, he was still all business.

"Officially, I'm your lead assistant. I think. But, to begin with, I'm going to be welcoming everyone to the party as they come in; ensuring they all have their invites, telling them where they can find the food and drink and that, if they need anything at all, they simply have to ask one of us." Thankfully, his years with Adele had nurtured his ability to wing it when the situation warranted and, until the two of them were reunited with Natalie, that was precisely what he was doing while he helped get Helena up to speed. Taking care not to disturb any of the serving staff - who were also in their science-fiction themed costumes - Ryan headed over towards the bar. "Seeing as you're the hostess and I'm your assistant, we'll both - presumably - be expected to mingle with the guests as much as possible. I'm not sure if we can have a drink with any of them, but I'm sure we can share conversations and do whatever we can to make them all feel happy and welcome.

The vast majority of the serving staff were making their way back and forth from the kitchen, carrying trays of covered food over towards a colossal table situated at one side of the hall. Beside the entrance to the kitchen, one of them had stacked a mass of silver trays on a secluded counter, ready to be filled with glasses of champagne or a selection of snacks and walked around the hall. In the midst of the constrained chaos, was Natalie, taking notes on her clipboard while calmly giving out orders in her effort to get everything ready in the half hour she felt she had left before people started to arrive. "We should probably go over there and see if we can help. I'm sure she'll fill you in, too."

Striding over towards the centre of the hall, he raised his voice to get her attention. "Ms. Jones?" The polite smile as she turned to look at him was all he revealed about his amusement. She had never heard him speak in this feminine voice and, having been exposed to - and possibly annoyed by - his regular voice, he wouldn't have blamed her if she'd thought he wasn't capable of passing himself off as a woman like this. "Helena and I were wondering if there was anything we could do to help."

[Helena Rahal]

It's obvious that you're dying,
Just proof that the camera is lying

Helena was relieved to hear that her assistant at least had some semblance of an idea of what they were expected to do for the evening. She did take Candi's lead though and followed her, all the better to get away from the receptionist than anything else. Putting distance between herself and that cranky lady was a good thing as far as Helena was concerned. It also seemed, or at least Helena hoped, that Candi knew where the party actually was going to be held based on the way she was leading them along.

Helena nearly laughed though when Candi told her that she was meant to be the boss for the evening. There was many things that Helena could do, but being a boss? That was something not exactly in her arsenal. It was a good thing then that Candi surmised that Natalie was supposed to also be coordinating the nights affair. She definitely seemed like she had a far better handle on being a boss than Helena did, even if she was a bit abrasive.

"Yeah, I ran into her earlier. She's a bit... task orientated." That was certainly the polite way of putting it, since she literally dragged Helena through the hotel just to get her to the beauticians. Given the seemingly high importance of the evening however, Helena supposed that she could forgive Ms. Jones for trying to keep everything running smoothly. Better to have someone like her help running things that a person a bit too lackadaisical.

They entered what Helena surmised was the main ballroom of the hotel as it was being adorned with decor and refreshment for the party. It seemed Candi's first duties were to meet and greet the guests, which did seem suited to an assistant rather than actual host themselves Helena thought. As Candi continued on though with what she surmised was Helena's duties, it began to dawn on Helena that she was nothing more than a showpiece, a trophy being put up for show for the event. She was not entirely sure how she felt about that.

Candi though spotted Natalie and Helena gave a nod of approval as she suggested the pair go see if the organizer needed the two. Helena also had a question or two she wanted to ask Ms. Jones, namely if she knew anything about her accommodations for the evening. If Maurelle had all this planned down to a tee, then being the main organizer at the event itself, surely Natalie would know what those sort of plans would be.

There was a look of pure shock from Natalie as Candi spoke, as she seemed quite taken aback at the appearance of the two. It seemed that the beauticians were well worth the money as Natalie could not find anything wrong at all with Helena's looks and even Candi did not look half bad. Though how Candi had lost that accent of hers from earlier was the biggest trick. Perhaps the night would go much better than she had expected.

"Helena is already doing what she needs to do for the majority of the evening, looking quite the stunner. As for you, well if you need something to do, you could help the bartender set up though I suspect our first guests will be arriving shortly. There's always a handful who begin to arrive around half an hour before these things begin."

Helena had to hide a frown, it seemed she was right. Maurelle was using her as nothing but a pretty little showpiece for the evening, that just did not sit well with her. Yet it was far better than actually trying to be a boss and keeping something like this moving. For that she did not envy Natalie at all. "Ms. Jones, you don't happen to know anything about accommodations that Miss Lacroix may have made on my behalf do you?"

"That's been taken of. Don't you worry about it, I'll get you situated later in the evening, once the time is right."

[Ryan D'Alteau]

Having seen neither himself or Helena in their fully-costumed state, Natalie was quite taken aback the sight which greeted her. Although Macy and Blake had done a masterful job making Helena into a dead ringer of Quorra from Tron: Legacy, making the expenditure to hire them more than worthwhile, the businesswoman was arguably more shocked by how Ryan Alcroft - the man who was now wearing one of her thongs - was able to bring about his own transformation and clean up rather nicely. He'd even managed to get rid of his rugged accent and, while he still sounded a mite too British for her taste, it was quite the commendable achievement. Maybe Maurelle had been right to employ him, after all. "Helena is already doing what she needs to do for the majority of the evening; looking quite the stunner."

Ryan glanced to one side as Helena's facial expression darkened into a frown. With Maurelle having come up with the party and doubtlessly running it from behind the scenes, the appointing of one of the working staff as a sexy figurehead wasn't entirely unexpected. Though, ever since his arrival, Ryan had expected her to command him to fill the role as opposed to some unfamiliar woman who was seemingly here as a favour. After all, he was the one who was meant to be punished, not her. Neither of them made an effort to protest and allowed Natalie to continue her explanation. Having spelled out the general idea of Helena's job this evening, she moved onto Ryan, who was now looking a whole lot more appealing as the boot-wearing Ensign Candi. "As for you... well, if you need something to do, you could help the bartender set up, though I suspect our first guests will be arriving shortly. There's always a handful who begin to arrive around half an hour before these things begin."

"Understood." Natalie had already told him that she would be making a personal report on his behaviour and adherence to duty over the course of the evening. He knew that, in some capacity or another, Natalie was also one of the many people in Maurelle Lacroix's employ and that, once the party wound its way towards a hopefully natural conclusion, she would forward it to their mutual boss. Stepping out of line tonight would no doubt bring yet another humiliating and degrading assignment down upon him - or worse - and so, caught between rising to Helena's defence and his own duties, he opted for the latter. She was clearly the favoured hostess here and, like her costume, she would likely have the better evening.

"Ms. Jones, you don't happen to know anything about...."

His hips still swaying as he walked, Ryan turned away from Helena and Natalie and headed towards the bar, leaving them to deal with their own concerns. As far as he knew, his assignment required him to lend his assistance at the party - as per the instructions of Natalie and Helena - and, once the last of the guests had left the building, he would be free to return to his normal self and head home at his leisure. Even with his frequent use as a test subject for many of the fetish-related items in Adele's closet, he had still never worn any sort of latex clothing and, while the dress hugged him a little tighter than he would have liked, the sensation of the rubber hugging the contours of his body wasn't entirely unpleasurable. Perhaps, next time, he would have picked out a dress with a skirt which billowed outward and away from his thighs but, as he rounded the wooden counter and set his eyes on the bartender, he wondered if it would be too much to ask if he could keep the dress he had on.

He might not have been a fan of Star Trek but, when Adele learned of this particular escapade, he would need something to take her mind off it in short order. The sight of her fiancé in a rubber dress, willing to do her bidding might just have sufficed. "Hey, need a hand?" Leaning against the bar with his right elbow, he flashed the man a small grin as he looked up. It was things like this which baffled him the most about his new-found personality traits. While he had no problems with men finding him attractive, he knew perfectly well that he would never feel the same way and, with Adele very much in his life, he was more than happy the way he was. Despite all of this, he often found himself performing little flourishes to his feminine character in order to produce a more convincing masquerade; most of the time without realising it. A small grin here, a seductive pose there... they were things which felt almost natural to him and, for the life of him, he couldn't think why.

"Sure do," Setting the case of beer down on the counter, he reared himself up to full height. The man looked to be in his late-twenties and, with the buzzcut hairstyle and chiselled facial features, had the look of an off-duty soldier about him. "You're one of Natalie's girls, right?" As they shared glances, Ryan took note of the man's response. It seemed that, if he was part of Maurelle's empire, then he was definitely one of the lower-ranking agents; someone who wasn't entirely aware of who superceded whom in the overall hierarchy. The only reason Ryan was taking orders from Natalie was because Maurelle had told him to. "You can help by bringing up some of the cases of beer in the back, there." He pointed towards the doorway which led into the hotel's restaurant-sized kitchen. Both food and drink which the hotel ordered were brought to an entrance at the back of the building to which the kitchen and bar staff had quick and easy access.

"You got it!" Transferring his full weight back onto his heeled boots, Ryan made his way into the kitchen. Just like the party he'd helped to host on his first night working for Maurelle, she had replaced the entire compliment of staff with people - sufficiently experienced in the culinary arts, of course - who worked for her and, as such, not a single one of them were fazed when what could only be described as a Star Trek stripper strode confidently through their midst, picked up a case of cider and walked back out again. For a quarter of an hour, both Ryan and the bartender made trips back and forth, stocking the bar with all of the beers, wines and spirits it would need to accommodate the party guests and ensure they wouldn't be leaving the party sober.

"I guess you're usin' a fake name tonight, like the rest of them?" Many of the serving girls had introduced themselves to him by way of professional courtesy but, with names such as Crystal, Ruby and Ebony, there was no way in hell that he'd got a single real one out of the whole endeavour. It annoyed him slightly, given that the women barely needed the tight-fitting outfits to look attractive, but he certainly understood the reason for the ruse.

"Ensign Candi," came the simple reply as Ryan placed the last of the bottles of pear cider into the backlit fridge. "I don't like it, but I'm being paid for this. So I guess what I like doesn't really matter." Closing the fridge door, he stood back up. "Anyway, that looks like everything. I should go get ready to meet and greet all these lovely people." The way he emphasised the last two words with a roll of his eyes caused the bartender to laugh. Like the Starfleet ensign, he had been called in on what would otherwise have been a day off and it was only the promise of extra pay that was keeping him from backing out.

"You do that. And thanks for the help, Candi!" Permitted to leave, Ryan wasted no time in crossing back over the width of the room and towards the doorway through which he and Helena had entered earlier. Through the open doors, he could hear the telltale sound of people as they gathered and, as someone nearer the reception area allowed them access to the corridor which led them his way, it wasn't long before they trickled towards the hall (almost) in single file. To his surprise, however, Ryan could see that the vast majority of the attendees were also wearing some sort of science-fiction related costume. Until now, he'd thought that the theme of the party wasn't extended to the guests but, as he saw the female CEO of a Brownsville-based hardware company dressed in a complex amalgamation of a ballroom gown and the Borg Queen, he was quickly proven wrong.

"Good evening, ma'am." Layering his demeanour with a helping of politeness and a sense of being happy to do the job he'd been assigned, he began to welcome the guests as they passed by. The CEO, understandably, smiled as she saw that one of her hostesses was dressed up to represent her favourite science-fiction series. "My name is Ensign Candi and I'd like to thank you for coming out to this fundraiser this evening." It was a line he found himself repeating quite a lot, in between informing the guests that the food and drink had already been paid for and could be brought to them simply by asking one of the serving staff and, as local business leaders, charity representatives and doctors passed him by in a grand display of the great and the good, he could hear the sounds of activity and conversation behind him, signalling that the party had well and truly begun.

[Helena Rahal]

You deserve to be alive

Helena was not sure what to make of the response that Natalie had given her. What had been a somewhat hopeful mood at to how the party was going to turn out was now turning south again. Figuring out she was just a sexy figurehead and now with no assurances of what her accommodations really were for the evening, this was not going how Helena had wanted. Her only comrade had even been dispatched from her side, going to help out the bartender with stocking.

At the moment, she almost wished that Felicia was here. Then at least Helena would know that all the torture of being undressed by others eyes, of just being eye candy would actually come to something. Not that she wanted to go home with any of the guests, far from it, but at least when Felicia had her eyes upon her, the night ended very happily for Helena. That was something she seemingly going to miss this evening and instead all of who knows how many strangers looking at her as nothing more than a piece of meat. Fine meat at that, but still just meat.

"You can't get into a bit more specifics than that? If I need to book a room, I'd like to know now before the place does not have any vacancies." Helena pressed on. Though many of the guests were probably going to be locals, some of them were undoubtedly going to be from out of town or the area and would need to stay at the hotel for the evening. If the hotel was not already filled up now, then it would be shortly.

Natalie though just gave Helena a short smile that did not reassure her at all. "As I said, it's been taken care of. You wont be without a place to stay for the night, now relax and get ready for the guests. Oh and you look absolutely wonderful tonight, you've definitely got my attention." What the hell was that about? What did Natalie mean by that Helena had her attention and why could she just say what room was apparently booked for her. This was entirely infuriating!

Left to her own devices as Natalie left her side, Helena decided to mingle with a bit of the staff who like her were done with their preparations and now just waiting for the event to kick off. She met a few of the other serving girls, all wearing some form of latex dress. Helena guessed it was a way of marking which of the costumed parties were part of the staff and not guests, though Helena wondered if that was not a folly. Given that this was an LGBT fundraiser, there was a small chance others would come in other forms of risque dress despite the theme.

As she gathered a glass of water, she noticed that Candi was back at the entrance way, just in time for the first of the guests to arrive. Helena did have a chuckle as the guest was dressed up in Star Trek gear well, portraying the somewhat controversial Borg Queen. Regardless of what one thought of the character, the woman did a good job of portraying the character. The next half hour or hour was going to be this though, meet, greet, and let everyone settle in. Helena though was dreading trying to actually socialize, she was not sure her voice was entirely passable or if she could sustain it.

"Welcome to the fundraiser. I hope you enjoy the food and refreshments. If you need anything, my name is Helena." Just how many times was she going to have to utter that phrase and to whom? Were celebrities going to show or just locals and Muarelle's friends? The suspense was now eating up at her!

[Adele D'Alteau]

Suddenly the shadows fade
Clouds darkened the sky
Our dance ended
I had to go, another goodbye

Rancho Viejo Resort and Country Club
Rancho Viejo, Texas
(~ 20 miles from Brownsville)

At first, Felicia balked at the idea of taking a mini-vacation to the southern tip of Texas. Ever since she'd returned from Paris with Danny, she'd been entrenched in her studies, and while she wasn't studying, she'd been tending to her children (along with the aid of a very tolerant and patient family). With her medical boards just over the horizon, she was hardly in a mood to leave Inaki's study, much less hop on a plane (albeit a chartered jet) and fly halfway across the country for a fundraiser. But considering that she hadn't spent much time alone with her husband, her studies would have to take the back burner, at least for a few days.

Rather than dress the part of a science fiction maven, she'd opted to wear a full-length fishnet body stocking, accented with the rich, iridescent blue and green feathers of a peacock. The more or less private areas of her body were hidden behind a black bra flanked by a swathe of thin feathers in the shape of a delicate pectoral necklace. Her midsection and groin were covered by what looked like a metal plate of armour with a deep green patina, and on her feet she wore a pair of simple black gladiator sandals. In other words, her entire body was exposed without being considered indecent—nothing that would have gotten her arrested.

Getting to the country club had been simple enough, though she'd hit a bit of traffic on the way in. Much to her chagrin, she hadn't been able to bring Harriet along with her. The obnoxiously green hearse was sitting back in their garage in Cazenovia Lake, all alone. She also hadn't missed sight of the brilliant red Pagani Zonda Roadster weaving in and out of the traffic with reckless abandon. And since it looked like they were both headed in relatively the same direction, she gritted her teeth in annoyance. If the doctor was attending the fundraiser, then that meant her fiancé would most likely be there as well. They didn't seem to travel very far from one another.

It had taken her several months to realise that there was nothing she could do to ease the Colonel's pain of having his entire family taken from him. In the past few weeks alone, how many men and women had she taken out of this life? Granted she thought they deserved whatever they got, given their shady professions; she really had no right to judge why Ryan had done what he'd done. It would still be a long while before the urge to separate his head from his neck went away, but she'd promised Inaki that she wouldn't start a bloodbath.

She turned both the rental car and its keys over to the valet along with a hefty tip. Having decided to travel light, all of her important documents were in a small satchel belted to her side. If there was one thing she hated, it was constantly needing to keep an eye on her purse to make sure she didn't misplace it.

“"Welcome to the fundraiser. I hope you enjoy the food and refreshments. If you need anything, my name is Helena." Even if Helena hadn't introduced herself, Felicia would have recognised her voice anywhere.

She approached the entry door behind a small group of people dressed as either Jedis or Jawas. She couldn't tell from anything other than the fact that they were all dressed in long, neutral-coloured, cowled robes from head to toe. Once the Jawa Jedis were escorted through the doors, she stood in front of Helena and cleared her throat. “I take it I don't get any special treatment for being your wife?”

All she knew was that the money raised during the evening's events would be put to good use towards a number of different LGBT charities. Both she and her mother had previously made considerable donations a few weeks prior to the event, though her mother had politely declined her invitation to remain at their home in New York where she could tend to Felicia's children. She wasn't quite sure what the entire evening would entail as there was no set itinerary, though she did know that there would be some kind of auction.

“Aren't you going to show me around?”

**********

Adele had attended more than her fair share of themed costume parties in the past year. When she received her invitation to the fundraiser, she decided that she was going to forgo creating a costume from scratch. Although the fundraiser was being billed as a sci-fi themed event, she'd chosen to wear a silver sequined cocktail dress with floor-length white chiffon wings gently downwards from under her arms. Ryan had been asked by his—she was loathe to call Maurelle his employer, but it was at the prescient Frenchwoman's behest that he attend. Gods be damned, she hated that woman. Maurelle didn't need a sixth sense to know what would happen if Adele so much as caught a glimpse of her face amongst the attendees. The two of them were quite adept at missing each other, like two ships passing in the night.

Knowing that Maurelle had a hand in the fundraiser was sufficient reason for her to stay away. While she had donated a significant amount of money to the event, she was hoping passing along a cheque would have been enough to excuse her absence from the festivities. The rest of the surgical staff from Valley Baptist Medical Centre had been invited, though due to the emergency room's unorthodox schedule, not all of them had been able to make it. She knew that the Head of Surgery would be in attendance, though she hadn't specified whether she would be wearing a costume.

From what she could see, there were a handful of individuals who'd also elected to take the much simpler route of dressing 'normally' in traditional black tie attire.

The guests were ushered through the doors one by one where they were greeted and escorted into the large main lobby of the resort by the staff. She'd been paying more attention to what was going on just inside the lobby than she'd been paying to her place in line, and was surprised to see that a large gap had opened in front of her while she'd been searching the growing crowd for familiar faces. Adele made her way up the short flight of steps to the entryway and nearly lost her footing, catching herself at the last minute by grabbing onto the employee at the door. At least they'd been paying enough attention to stop her before she fell. Damnable heels!

“Good evening, ma'am.” Adele glanced down at the hand that had helped to steady her and immediately recognised the distinct engagement ring on the wearer's ring finger. “My name is Ensign Candi and I'd like to thank you for coming out to this fundraiser this evening."

Meeting her fiancé's eyes with a grin, she chuckled and remarked, “S'il vous plaît dites à votre employeur que je vais profiter finissant sa vie très lentement et douloureusement.” One of these days, she would make good on her words. Maurelle had (mostly) kept to her end of the bargain; while Ryan had told her countless tales of his humiliation at his employer's hands, he hadn't been injured—that she knew of. “Is she here tonight, or did she think it best to stay home?” It went without saying that Adele wanted her dead. Even without her precognition, Maurelle was a smart, adept young woman. She didn't need any sense of forethought to tell her what would happen if the two of them were put in a room together. Their first (and hopefully last) meeting had gone over about as well as it would have had Maurelle been an antelope at a family reunion of starving lions.

Довести до белого каления.

ф ф Word count: 1395
ф ф Mood: It's chilly here. ):
ф ф Outfit: Felicia (the green peacock one), Adele
ф ф Lyrics / Quote: Shadow Dance, Persephone
ф ф Illustrations: None.
ф ф Comment / Informational links: None.

[Helena Rahal]

If I am a mean person, you don't like me,
Well, I guess I'll make my own way.

Helena caught the sight of Felicia long before her beautiful bride ever made a move towards her. The ensemble she came in was... so typically Felicia. A fishnet body stocking with just the right amount of coverage of her private parts to keep from being arrested. Helena... absolutely loved it and made the fact that she was having to play hostess for the next few hours even more infuriating. She wanted nothing more now than to disappear for about half an hour or so with that sexy little minx.

Helena gave Felicia a coy smile as she approached her and asked about special perks for being her spouse. If it was Helena's party, Felicia could have all the special perks that her lustful, beautiful heart desired. Seeing as how it was not her party's but Maurelle's, it was probably wise to err on the side of caution. "I'm sorry sweetie, but I am afraid any special perks are going to have to wait until after the party."

Helena though was feeling... something that she could not quite put her finger on, but it felt good all the same. Not caring who saw or if it was even okay for her to do so, she wrapped Felicia up in an embrace and gave her a very passionate kiss. The night's roller coaster was still going, except now she was definitely on a high. With her lover in attendance, then the night could be tolerable and there was at least one room she could stay in.

"I had no idea you were going to be able to make it when you didn't come with me. You look absolutely stunning though, I could just eat you right up." Helena whispered to her lover as she broke their embrace. Helena wondered if Felicia might have felt the additions that Macy had endowed her with for the evening. They were obviously on display but would Felicia be able to guess that they were actually real?

“Aren't you going to show me around?”

Helena paused for a moment and gave a look towards where Candi was still greeting the guests. It seemed like she had an excellent handle on the flow of traffic and getting the guests orienated. A few minutes alone with Felicia could be spared. "Your wish is my command, I am the hostess for the night. It is my job to make the guests happy." Helena gave Felicia a sly grin and held out her hand for Felicia to take. "After you beautiful."

[Ryan D'Alteau]

While he would have thought himself to be far from the best people person around, his time as Maurelle Lacroix's personal assistant and consultant had made him aware of certain skills which, up until now, Ryan never thought he possessed. Arguably, the chief among which was being able to blend into an otherwise mundane social setting under the guise of a woman he had made up almost eight months ago. It may have taken copious amounts of prosthetics and make-up, but Sophie's sometimes patient mentoring had certainly paid dividends. His feminine personality - that of high school graduate and "secretary" Calla McKnight - was cheerful, yet rarely outgoing. Ryan never did anything more than was needed to project the façade which suggested he was who he said he was.

Tonight's identity may have thrown his usual courses of action a little out of whack but, once he'd greeted the first couple of guests by introducing himself as Ensign Candi and expressing some false gratitude at their decision to attend, he had found himself getting into the swing of things. While adhering to the science-fiction theme was, for him and the other serving staff working at the party, completely mandatory, it was an optional bonus for the fundraiser's myriad attendees. Those that had elected to do so were filing into the hall wearing a wide variety of outfits. A trio of people had arrived dressed as Jawas; the diminutive scrap traders from the annals of Star Wars lore. However, rather than commit the faux pas of wearing a hooded cowl as the characters perpetually did, they had instead represented the unique look by wearing incredibly high collars and hiding their faces behind a masquerade mask specifically crafted for the occasion, complete with a golden film over the eye holes.

The people that had decided not to wear a costume had made their entrance in more traditional black tie attire; suits for the men and some form of elaborate dress for the women. Although he was the one doing the vast majority of the meeting and greeting, he wasn't the only one who found themselves posted to the prominent post. Befitting her role as hostess, Helena made sporadic trips to the hall's entryway - offering a repeat of the directions Ryan himself had given - while relaying the fact that, should any of them find themselves burdened with a need for something, they were more than welcome to come to her. It was during one of these visits that Ryan caught a glimpse of a dark-haired woman sauntering her way to the front of whatever queue had established itself.

Unlike any of the other women she passed along the way, Felicia wasn't clad in anything resembling traditional formal wear. With a set of casual black underwear and a full-body fishnet stocking forming the basis of her outfit, an array of iridescent strands which reminded him very much of peacock feathers had been strategically woven in and around the gaps, making the ensemble look somewhat more fitting and refined and, to cap it off, she was wearing a set of dark sandals in place of the usual set of high heels. Being so close to the woman as he watched her make a beeline for the hostess, it hadn't been difficult for Ryan to recognise her. Her personal opinion of him wasn't something which was kept a secret.

A personal friend of the Grant family; namely the two men named Marcus which still remained, she had sworn a vendetta against Ryan and, like some sort of unrelenting predator, was biding her time; waiting for the moment when she wouldn't be under some sort of promise to her husband so that she could kill him in some disgusting and excessive manner. Once Helena had dispensed with her usual introduction, their voices fell out of earshot as they talked. It may not have meant to be a distraction to the latex-clad Starfleet "ensign" standing at the door but, as he tried to work out what was being said over the rest of the noise, that was precisely what Helena and Felicia became.

It was a few seconds before he finally gave up and allowed them to do whatever it was they were doing. If Helena wanted to slack off and talk to one of the guests, that was entirely her decision. Right now, however, Ryan wasn't about to let his own performance be dragged down through the actions of someone else. It may have been a punishment which had brought him here, but he was still under orders to do the best he could. A series of hurried footsteps signalled the arrival of yet another guest. Doing his best to make it look like he'd been paying attention the whole time, he started his now-customary greeting as he turned around to face them. "Good evening. My name is Ensign Candi and I'd like to thank you for coming out to this fundra--..."

He was suddenly cut off by a sudden impact as the guest in question - a somewhat shorter woman in a white gown - stumbled forward towards him. Having lost her footing in a hurry to claim the front of the line, she was only spared the embarrassing fate of falling completely to the floor by Ryan's quick reflexes. "Are you okay..?", was his quiet inquiry as he tried to remain as professional as possible. Throughout this whole debacle; which had lasted only three or four seconds, the woman's head had been cast downward, her gaze locked on the floor as she regained her bearings. However, the small intake of breath he'd needed to ascertain the guest's wellbeing had been enough to bring something to his attention.

The woman's perfume.

It was a scent he'd experienced numerous times before and, as he gauged the woman's size in comparison to his own, he realised just who had stumbled to the floor before him. Of all the people whoever had been in charge of the party's guest list could have deemed worthy to be counted among the great and the good, they had somehow allowed her to slip through the net. Sure, she may have been a fully-qualified and respectable doctor but, to Ryan, Adele Elise Couteau was something else entirely. "S'il vous plaît dites à votre employeur que je vais profiter finissant sa vie très lentement et douloureusement," she commented with a brief chuckle. She wanted him to inform Maurelle that she would be taking quite the pleasure in killing her. Thankfully, it was a threat she was, once again, not going to be able to make good on. "Is she here tonight..? Or did she think it best to stay home?"

In case someone found themselves in earshot as they passed, Ryan elected to hide under his working persona. "No, ma'am. Ms. Lacroix, unfortunately, couldn't make it this evening. Though I'm sure she certainly appreciates that you were able to take time from your busy schedule to attend." As much as Adele may have wanted him to accompany her into the hall so that he could enjoy the festivities, the fact remained that he had a job to do. So he'd send her on her way for now, hoping that she would at least try to behave herself. "Refreshments are on the table on the far side of the hall, while the fully-stocked bar on your left will be able to cater to any other needs you may have. If you have any problems, make sure to find Helena; our hostess this evening."

It was a little cold of him to dismiss his own fiancée so abruptly but, with the way he looked, he didn't want to risk damaging Adele's professional reputation.

[Adele D'Alteau]

Now goodnight moon
I want the sun
If it's not here soon
I might be done
No it won't be too soon 'til I say goodnight moon

†††
۵ ۵ ۵

Rancho Viejo Resort and Country Club
Rancho Viejo, Texas
(~ 20 miles from Brownsville)

Poor Helena. She was just going to have to deal with her sexual frustration for the next few hours while her spouse sauntered about and mingled. "I'm sorry sweetie, but I am afraid any special perks are going to have to wait until after the party."

“Yeah, I'll bet you're sorry.” Felicia leaned into the embrace and returned the kiss, surprised to feel a set of breasts pushing back against her. She looked down and raised an eyebrow. Well, well. Weren't those nice. Now she was starting to have all sorts of naughty thoughts. “So I take it that popping out one of your tits and nomming on it right now is sort of out of the question, right?” Gods bless whoever gave Helena breasts for the evening. They were certainly going to be getting a workout later.

"I had no idea you were going to be able to make it when you didn't come with me. You look absolutely stunning though, I could just eat you right up."

“You'll have plenty of time to do that later, I'm sure.” Eh, while she might not have been able to do what she wanted with Helena's breasts given their present company, that didn't mean she couldn't give them an appreciative grope with her hands. “Those are nice. I think we're the same size. Any chance you get to keep them once the night's over?” She hoped that was a possibility. Playing with boobs was fun.

There were supposed to be hundreds of people in attendance from large individual donors to CEOs and celebrities. She wasn't really sure where she fit in, seeing as how her contribution had been rather paltry. Her mother had more than made up for it by dipping into IntelliTouch's coffers. They had a separate account for charity ventures that was always filled to the brim, just in case.

Felicia turned away from her lover in time to see the dark-haired Frenchwoman being gestured over in their direction by who she assumed was another hostess. The doctor looked less than thrilled when she saw just to whom she was being directed and faltered in her steps before continuing towards them. “Yes, dear,” she replied to Helena's unasked question as Adele approached, “I promise I'll behave myself tonight.” It was going to take a gargantuan effort, but seeing as how this event was probably being televised, she thought it would be wise not to start a bloodbath—at least not while the cameras were rolling.

**********

She was momentarily surprised when Ryan—Calla--failed to acknowledge her, but chalked it up to the fact that he was most likely being 'punished' by his employer who had a penchant for befitting him with humiliating tasks for her own personal enjoyment. If not for her abrasive personality, she reckoned that both she and Maurelle would have got on quite fine, but the woman's inherent arrogance coupled with her somewhat lackadaisical attitude ruffled the doctor's delicate feathers.

Unfortunately, Maurelle was not in attendance that evening, though Adele sincerely doubted that she was far off. She was probably close enough to ensure that the fundraiser went off without a hitch. The two of them would eventually run into one another again, regardless of Maurelle's inherent ability to see the future. "No, ma'am. Ms. Lacroix, unfortunately, couldn't make it this evening. Though I'm sure she certainly appreciates that you were able to take time from your busy schedule to attend." Ryan paused long enough for Adele to fix him with a stern glare. "Refreshments are on the table on the far side of the hall, while the fully-stocked bar on your left will be able to cater to any other needs you may have. If you have any problems, make sure to find Helena; our hostess this evening."

“Permettez-moi de retoucher votre maquillage quand vous avez un moment. On dirait que vous aviez une prise de bec avec des pastels et perdu le combat.” Satisfied that she'd sufficiently stung him with the remark, she turned away from him and marched towards the other woman whom Ryan had pointed out. Eventually she was going to have to teach her husband how to properly apply makeup since he obviously hadn't learned from watching her apply her own makeup in the mirror for years.

She hesitated for half a step when she locked eyes with the feather-clad young woman. Did Ryan honestly have a death wish? Or perhaps Felicia hadn't recognised him—yet. Adele sighed and resumed walking straight towards them as if nothing had happened, though her mind was still reeling. Surely Maurelle had set this up purely for her own amusement. Giving a look around at the cameras set up all over the lobby, she didn't doubt for an instant that Ryan's employer was off somewhere watching the events unfold whilst laughing herself silly with a bottle of wine. That woman was incorrigible.

“Bonsoir. Vous avez tous deux es magnifique ce soir.” In a gesture which genuinely surprised her, Felicia broke away from the woman with whom she'd been standing—Helena, she assumed—and embraced her. Momentarily stunned, she was unsure of how to react and left her hands at her sides for several seconds before she reacted to the hug and gently wrapped her arms around the petite young woman. “How are your children?” she asked as Felicia drew away, leaving her feeling quite confused. She wasn't averse to physical contact, but seeing as how the woman before her had admitted to wanting her fiancé dead, she wanted to keep herself guarded.

“Tu es belle ainsi, and the twins are doing just fine. My ma's looking after them right now.” Felicia put a hand on Helena's chest. “And as I'm sure you've probably already figured out, this is Helena. My wife.” There were times when the superficial part of her was jealous that Helena put her own beauty to shame, even though Helena believed otherwise and would always tell her as much. She couldn't help being shallow. “Helena, be a dear and show us a good time.”

The three of them walked through the lobby towards a set of double doors which she assumed led into the banquet hall. There was a large dinner that was going to be served prior to the rest of the evening's events which included everything from silent auctions to raffled prizes of varying amounts. The fun was only just beginning.

†††
۵ ۵ ۵

† Word count: 1155
۵ Mood: Awake!
† Outfit: Same as previous posts.
۵ Lyrics / Quote: Goodnight Moon, Shivaree
† Illustrations: None.
۵ Comment / Informational links: None.

[Helena Rahal]

What did you think I would say?
No, you can't run away

Not that it could be seen through the make up, but Felicia was already causing Helena to blush. Somehow Helena knew that Felicia would not take long to find out about her new additions. Yet asking to suck on them right here in public was just a bit much! It was Felicia though and Helena had to be the one to keep the pair grounded... which was going to be an incredibly difficult task tonight. For whatever reason, despite the crazy circumstances, Helena felt empowered and totally in the mood for something audacious.

"As nice as it might feel, I'd rather there not be cameras and hundred or so eyes watching my lover lavishing my breasts." Gosh that was the truth. How the hell did Maurelle get that many people from freaking Texas to show up to a LGBT fundraiser anyhow? Was Texas truly becoming a bit more accepting or were they all just here because they knew Maurelle? Fuck it, it didn't matter, the money from tonight was going to a good cause.

Felicia definitely sounded like she was going to take up Helena's suggestion later. Wasn't this a twist, it was Helena that wanted to sneak off for a bit of intimacy and not Felicia trying to drag her away from something mundane. Was this what it felt like to be confident and empowered? No wonder Felicia was always so gung ho to lay Helena, Helena felt like a freaking goddess. The thought made her smile though, reminding her of a dinner that they shared not to long ago when Felicia called Helena her goddess.

Helena nearly gasped though as Felicia asked if there was any chance of keeping the new additions later. Well that was rather forward of her and sent Helena for a spin. While this was far from the first time she had been dressed up or had a biokentic work on her, there was something that had been nagging at her that was brought forward now with that innocent, fun question of her lovers. Helena merely whispered back to her lover. "Maybe, we'll talk about it later though. Maybe once the party is over."

Though as Helena was about to give Felicia a guided tour of the party's location, they both saw the Frenchwoman sauntering over toward them. While Felicia promised to be on her best behavior, it was Helena herself who she was really worried about. The last time she seen Adele, the woman had caused a nasty rash on a guest of theirs and Helena had lost her cool. However if she was here, then that meant her fiance was as well, and that was trouble if Felicia found him. Helena hoped for all their sakes that Ryan stayed hidden and that she could control herself around the doctor.

Despite not being the hostess of the party, Felicia played the perfect greeter to Adele as she approached them and even embraced the woman. Helena just kept up a warm smile as they spoke, though she managed to catch Adele complimenting the both of them on their looks. If only Adele really knew what was behind the costume and wonderfully done make up Helena wondered if she would still say the same thing. Helena though was surprised as Felicia lay a hand on her chest and introduced Helena as her wife to the doctor. Would the doctor pick up on that?

"It is nice that you were able to make it out tonight Dr. Couteau. Vous regardez belle ce soir, votre robe est tout simplement magnifique." If Felicia could play nice, then so could Helena. Especially as Felicia just volunteered her to escort not only Felicia around but the doctor as well. The debt to Maurelle was more than paid now, Helena was beginning to think the French woman was going to owe her before the night was through. "It'll be my pleasure."

[Ryan D'Alteau]

Jilted from the place in the back of my mind! There's no time for a reconcile.
Tilted in a way that I cannot define! Gonna take what I know is mine.
Close your eyes and watch me fly! Everything I left behind!
Don't I want this piece of mind disconnected?!

______________________________Dry Cell - "Disconnected"

"Permettez-moi de retoucher votre maquillage quand vous avez un moment." Rather than take on the role of the polite guest and thank him for his introductory flourish to the proceedings, Adele seemd more intent on picking apart his attempt to make himself look presentable. Although the past eight months had given him a wealth of experience in how to solve the various problems his masculine body posed when transforming himself into Calla McKnight, the fact that he had done so sparingly meant that he still had a lot to learn. As far as Adele was concerned, his attempts simply weren't good enough to fool those who knew him well enough. "On dirait que vous aviez une prise de bec avec des pastels et perdu le combat."

According to his fiancée, he looked as though he'd picked a fight with some pastel crayons and lost. Normally, Ryan wasn't the type to be offended by verbal remarks - at least, not anymore - but even he felt a little stung by Adele's parting opinion. Rather than fire something back and risk blowing his cover, he swallowed his annoyance and turned his attention back to the remnants of the queue which stood before him. By now, most of the guests had been permitted entry to the large hall; if not by him then by Helena or whoever else had been sent over to help shoulder the load and only a dozen or so parties remained. "May I take your coat, sir?"

He wasn't entirely sure how he felt when he gave a cheery, almost excessively polite welcome to the guests as they passed or asked if he could take some of the belongings for safe-keeping. Given how many people in the United States felt about specials, especially after the usual rumour mill had started up with the notion that a special had somehow killed President Sawyer's predecessor, it was already slightly painful to deliberately be this nice to people. But, after adding in the fact that he was a man clad in silicone prosthetics and a latex dress, trying to keep himself from being discovered was outright agony.

He had to make sure that his feminine voice never slipped even when he was in pain, he had to make sure that he was using the right mannerisms... he even had to deliberately hesitate so that he could make sure he'd end up using the "correct" bathroom in a public place. There were just so many things he needed to remember and, from the social adherence alone, he wondered just how other, more experienced people in his situation coped.

But, as he gracefully took a woman's fur-lined raincoat and allowed her to enter the hall with her similarly middle-aged husband, the relief he felt was immense, if a little short-lived. He'd greeted and assisted over a hundred people with redeeming their tickets and getting into the party and, with the cloakroom full of various belongings, he was finally free to help out elsewhere. But, it was when he was making his way over towards the bar that he caught sight of his fiancée once more. Just like he'd suggested as part of his hostess routine, Adele had gone to find Helena but, to his silent dismay, it was who she had also managed to locate that filled him with an almost palpable sense of dread.

Felicia. The woman who wanted to tear his head off - and a hell of a lot more besides - for massacring Marcus Grant's family. It was as if a pair of lionesses, each from a rival pride, had met each other on the Savannah and had begun a staring contest as they sized up their counterpart. It wouldn't have taken too much for one of them to be tipped over the edge; such as Felicia getting close enough to him to realise that he wasn't as womanly as he appeared and, very much averse to being decapitated in a room full of people, Ryan started to think of how best to separate his fiancée from his adversary. Slinking his way behind the bar, he caught sight of one of the serving girls heading towards the kitchen door, dressed up in a latex Imperial Stormtrooper uniform. On the shelf beside the doorway, someone had set one of the stacked silver trays to one side and filled it with two dozen glasses of moderately expensive red wine.

"Hey, cutie," Ryan called out, getting the woman's attention with a sly wink. The gesture was simply to disarm the woman and make her a little more pliant as he divested her of her duty. Sure enough, she made no effort to stop him as he reached out for the tray and picked it up in his hands. "Don't worry. I've got this. You take the next one, okay?" Twenty-four wine glasses was something of a challenge to balance on a reasonably small tray but, with Ryan in need of an excuse to get amongst the guests, the tray made for the perfect disguise.

"Uh.. s-sure, okay." Sure, her hair may not have been all that flattering, but the way this Star Trek girl seemed to carry herself with confidence made her momentarily weak at the knees. Her black-and-red latex dress was just as tight against her skin as her own and, as she sat the tray on her hand and slowly headed back out towards the guests, she felt her eyes being drawn down to her swaying backside. She could wait for the next tray to be prepared. Besides, if she were to head out now, she might have dropped everything. No, she needed a couple of minutes to collect herself. Although she'd started to give in to her curiosity over the past couple of weeks, she hadn't yet found the courage to ask for a girl's phone number. Maybe Little Miss Star Trek would be the way to change all that.

As he'd expected, carrying two-dozen glasses on a tray had started out as quite the challenge but, as more and more guests began to take advantage of his unspoken offer, his load was quickly lightened. He offered each of them an appreciative smile before leaving them to whatever they'd been doing. Trying to look natural, he did a lap of the banquet hall, as if the tray of wine had been an assignment he'd just been given by one of the other staff and, after about three or four minutes, he "just so happened" to cross his fiancée's path. Thankfully, the trio were all still unscathed and, more importantly, unarmed and, with his façade as strong as ever, he politely stopped them in their tracks. "Excuse me, ma'am." Looking at Helena, he put on an apologetic expression as he interrupted her superior's duties. "Would any of you like some red wine?"

[Adele D'Alteau]

A sea of twisted shapes
Seek salvage from this carnage
Frustration deep inside
Writhe in utmost rage
A tortuous embrace is embedded in their minds
As hands from above grasp
Emptiness they find.

†††
۵ ۵ ۵

Rancho Viejo Resort and Country Club
Rancho Viejo, Texas
(~ 20 miles from Brownsville)

"As nice as it might feel, I'd rather there not be cameras and hundred or so eyes watching my lover lavishing my breasts."

“Wouldn't that be all the more reason for me to do it, then?” She'd always been a bit of an exhibitionist and didn't really see what the big deal was about boobs. Everyone had them, even if most men thought their nipples were completely useless. When Helena mentioned keeping her more “recent additions” permanent, she couldn't say that she was surprised. Even as Inaki, Helena had very feminine features—on her face, at least. The rest of her body could always be modified to her liking, seeing as how there were people out there with abilities who could do exactly that, sans surgery and hormone replacement therapy.

From the way that the Frenchwoman kept casting sour glances over her shoulder at the tall, platinum blond woman near one of the entry doors, Felicia could tell that she was somewhat irritated. “Come on, let's go get you a drink. You look like you could use one.” For once in her life, she didn't really want to cause a stink, and to be honest, she rather would have had Adele be in her company than be an enemy. Felicia knew when to pick her battles, even though Helena may not have necessarily agreed with her strategies.

Adele only followed Felicia and Helena to the bar when Felicia had started to lead her away by the hand. She attempted to draw away at first, wanting to get in another snide word with Ryan, but gave in a moment later so as not to blow his cover. The last thing she wanted was for this evening to explode in a bloodbath she'd no doubt need to clean up, being the only trauma surgeon in the immediate vicinity, or so she assumed. Much to her chagrin, she'd lost sight of Calla—Ryan-- the further they advanced into the lobby towards the country club's main ballroom. It was probably for the best, for right now she was slightly put off by the presence of her significant other who had conveniently failed to make her privy to the fact that he would indeed be present at this particular community get-together. It made her feel like he had something to hide, and that in turn left her feeling incredibly uncomfortable and particularly vulnerable.

She nearly jumped out of her skin an into Felicia's waiting arms when Calla suddenly appeared in front of them, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. "Excuse me, ma'am. Would any of you like some red wine?"

Felicia grabbed hold of Adele by her shoulders to steady her as the . . . waitress carrying a tray full of drinks blocked her path. It was the same person whom she'd seen ushering the doctor away from the entry door opposite Helena. She let go of Adele once she was certain that the other woman had found her feet and scrutinised Helena's assistant. At least she was assuming this woman was Helena's assistant. But she looked really familiar. Where did she know her from? Felicia closed her eyes and inhaled the air around her for a moment, trying to pick up on some sort of identifying spoor. The only thing she could pick up on was the cloying scent of synthetic fragrances from deodourants and perfumes.

Since she couldn't rely on her superb sense of smell to properly identify the person now standing before her, she opened her eyes and studied the waitress's face as she snatched two crystalline goblets of wine from the proffered tray and handed one of them to Adele. Perhaps she would have to rely on sight alone. Taking a moment to study the waitress's face, she realised within the span of a breath that she wasn't looking at a woman. Felicia raised an eyebrow. Nearly seven feet tall with a very masculine musculature to boot, there were some things that prosthetics couldn't hide. His legs were a huge tipoff. Even though it was obvious that he'd recently shaved or waxed, shaving and waxing could only do so much. They couldn't hide the shape of his muscles under his skin. No, this was definitely not an Ensign Candi as her outfit and her breasts would have led her to believe. This was Ryan Alcroft; the very man she'd wanted dead for several months.

“Hello, Ryan.” She passed one goblet over to Adele who seemed reluctant to take it, but stole it from her hand. “Jesus, did a blind person do your make up? It looks horrible.” Felicia licked one of her thumbs and raised it to his cheek where a bit of blush had smudged, then withdrew her hand when she felt Adele's eye's boring holes into the side of her head. “Hey, no one's getting killed here tonight. I'm over all that shit since the Grant's have pretty much written me off. No hard feelings, okay?”

†††
۵ ۵ ۵

† Word count: 926
۵ Mood: Cleveland skipped summer and now it's cold here. ):<
† Outfit: same as previous posts.
۵ Lyrics / Quote: Deadly Inner Sense, Paradise Lost
† Illustrations: None.
۵ Comment / Informational links: None.

[Ryan D'Alteau]

The look of apology remained on his face as his sudden appearance provoked a reaction in Adele, causing her to visibly flinch in momentary fright. It was an understandable thing to happen, given that he had spent just about every single second since meeting his fiancée at the entrance to the party weaving through the crowds of costumed guests, remaining pretty much out of her sight as he helped to serve the drinks. It was only when he had circled around a trio of businessmen and actually spoken that the collective attention of Helena, Adele and Felicia had actually been levelled in his direction.

Felicia. As much as mingling with all of the guests and ensuring that they were as happy as possible with the festivities was his job for the evening, Felicia Rahal was one guest who Ryan really didn't want to be around. As luck would have it, their previous encounter - at her house, no less - had been bundled with the proviso that she avoid causing any sort of trouble. Various online conversations had all but made a certainty what the woman had originally thought of him; a sub-human monster who deserved only the cruelest and most heartless end for what he'd done to an entire family. She had wanted to tear his head from his shoulders and, from how hard she had worked to restrain herself at the party, Ryan couldn't help but think that having Adele watch the act unfold would have been a bonus for her.

The tray of wine in his hands was just a ruse; an excuse to get him out into the crowd. It had certainly worked, but what it hadn't helped him accomplish as of yet was getting his fiancée away from Felicia before the two of them came to blows. Unlike him, Adele was somewhat sporadic when it came to her sense of restraint. In much the same way Felicia had been occasionally eyeing Helena's breasts, lending a slight amount of credence to the hostess' unspoken opinion that she was little more than an attractive figurehead for the festivities, Ryan knew that Adele would have seen no problem in using her ability in such a crowded setting. With many of the ways she could dispatch an adversary - unless she decided to get really creative - being rather reminiscent of normal illnesses, she could have massacred the whole party one-by-one and fled the scene with the help of nothing more than a few tears and a tall story.

What Ryan wanted was, for once, to have everything go according to plan. He wanted the evening to reach its conclusion without incident and, once he'd got changed into his street clothes, he'd head home with Adele and clear things up. All he'd have to do was wait for Felicia to take some wine from his tray, thank him for the service and leave him an opportunity to go on his way. Even if Helena decided to have a drink from the tray as well, he still had a few glasses to hand out before he could head back to the bar and find something else to do.

"Hello, Ryan."

...but when Felicia greeted him with his real name, it was if he'd just been thrown into a car crash in slow-motion. It was now his turn to look shocked and, as Felicia moved forward with a wine glass in her hand, he nearly dropped the whole tray to the floor in shock. It was the first time that someone had actually managed to recognise him after dressing himself up. Somehow, she'd managed to see through the prosthetics, the clothes, the wig and the make-up and see who he really was. The fact that Ryan was standing almost seven feet off the floor really wasn't helping his case. There was nothing he could do to deny it. Not really. After all, who could say they knew a woman tall enough to rival most NBA stars?

"Jesus, did a blind person do your make-up..?" Licking her free thumb, Felicia spotted a point where the blush had smudged on Ryan's cheek and, as though she was doing something perfectly normal, gently dragged it along the softly reddened patch of skin. "It looks horrible."

"It's hardly bright in here..." His voice, while still definitely feminine, had quietened considerably. Having Felicia identify him had punched a sizeable hole into whatever confidence he'd built up being the friendly, polite and slightly flirty hostess at the door and, with each passing second, it was beginning to drain out of him. He was right. Being a party, not all of the lights in the colossal hall had been turned on; just enough to allow everyone to see where they were going and who was nearby and, with the evening well and truly setting in, the outside world wasn't any better. "And only you noticed."

Adele, on the other hand, wasn't at all impressed. She had no idea what Felicia's agenda, if any, actually was at this point. She'd seemed friendly and cordial enough around her, but that had been before she'd encountered the man who, for months, she'd wanted to see dead. "Hey," Felicia said somewhat flatly. She didn't need to glance over to know how Adele was looking at her. She just knew. Just like she'd known Ensign Candi was neither an ensign nor a woman. If anything, she sounded tired of the assumptions she'd been partially responsible for creating among Ryan and Adele. "No-one's getting killed here, tonight. I'm over all that shit since the Grants've pretty much written me off. No hard feelings, okay?"

Ryan wasn't too sure what to think. He might have welcomed what almost sounded like it amounted to a cessation of hostilities but, after his experiences with the Company, the Rogue Society, GEIST and whoever else of whom his (mis)adventures with Adele had dragged him into the general proximity, he was habitually seeing most good-natured gestures as a little dubious. "If you say so," he sighed. His Ensign Candi façade had all but fallen apart, leaving only the voice behind. And with the night still relatively young, he needed a moment or two to rebuild it. If he could help it, he wasn't going to let this turn into another excuse for Maurelle Lacroix to punish him. "L-.. Look, can I go now? I've got wine to hand out and, uh... other stuff to do." Once he'd brought the tray back to the bar, he had no idea what he'd be asked to do next. In actual fact, the woman who was meant to be giving him orders was herself distracted by the doctor and the immortal standing before him.

More to the point, how was Helena going to react now that she knew Candi wasn't Candi..?

[Helena Rahal]

I follow you, you follow me
I don't know why you laugh so clean.

The way that Felicia was acting, an outside observer would think that she was the acting hostess of the evening and not Helena. Not that Helena was complaining, this was very much out of her element and with Adele being there, she welcomed the assistance from her wife. She could also see Natalie going about the crowd making sure they were settling in and enjoying themselves, which gave further credence to Helena's idea she was just here to be pretty. Maybe it was for the best, it kept her from doing completely screwing up the fundraiser with some misstep or mistake.

Felicia picked up on Adele's irritability with the glances back to Candi about the same time that Helena did. What Helena's assistant could have said or done to provoke those darting stares though was beyond Helena and Felicia beat her to a suggestion of a drink. If she had learned anything about the doctor in their interactions it was that the Frenchwoman enjoyed fine wines. That was something that Helena was fairly sure was in service at this place, considering the organizer of this party.

"We have a lovely selection of wine over at the bar as well as other drinks." Just what else they had Helena was not sure, having only seen the wine, beer, and rum when she past by. Yet at an event like this, there was bound to be a fair selection of spirits for the patrons of the event to indulge it. What better way to get the patrons in the mood to loosen up their wallets a little bit and writing the checks than giving them a bit of liquid relaxation?

Adele though seemed out of her element as Helena noticed her initially pull away from Felicia as they tried to usher her towards the bar. At another place or time, Helena would have encouraged Felicia to merely let it be and leave the doctor to her own devices. Yet this was a public event and Ma plus whoever else would be needed to clean up after a possible Adele bloodbath were nowhere near. While Helena was never going to claim to be a friend of Adele, right now she did want the doctor to be in a better mood than she was and if that meant entertaining her for the duration of the party, then so be it. The alternative was far worse.

Those plans were seemingly unraveling though as out of nowhere Candi approached the trio and offered them some wine. The look of shock was evident all over Adele's face and Helena felt a pinch of lamentation. It was Felicia though that surprised her as she accosted Helena's assistant and in some sort of primal fashion... inhaled her scent. "What are you doing?" Helena whispered harshly at Felicia, what would other people think if they saw one guest harassing one of the serving staff like this?

Helena nearly went pale though as Felicia said hello to... Ryan?!! That was Ryan Alcroft, Adele's fiance? There was no possible way... it just was not possible, was it? And if it was, why was he here dressed up like a sci-fi prostitute at the behest of Maurelle? His company profile suggested a fierce independence and reluctance to follow any orders, there was no way he would be ordered to be at this event like he was. It just did not make any sense!

At least Felicia, either earnestly or at least for the evening, was saying she was not going to cause an incident. It was too late for that though as far as Helena was concerned but at least for the moment there did not seem to be the prospect of needing to clean up blood. Ryan, for what it was worth, was enduring the critique of his make up and appearance well, and was practically begging to be released from his duty of serving them wine. Considering Candi was her assistant, it fell to Helena to make that call despite the presence of both Felicia and Adele.

"Candi, thank you for the wine. Please tend to the other guests and see if there is to be any event soon from Natalie." Ryan owed her after this and one day she would collect. For now, she merely wanted to keep everything calm and spare her assistant any further embarrassment.

[Ryan D'Alteau]

Thankfully, it was only the three pairs of eyes before him that were currently boring into his soul. Although, to him, Felicia's utterance of his name had been piercingly clear and was still reverberating around his mind even now, it had only been spoken in a regular conversational tone; as if calling him Ryan and not Ensign Candi had been the perfectly normal thing to do. Because of this, nobody else in the hall were any the wiser; far too engrossed in their own enjoyment of the party - and polite to deviate from social convention - to intentionally eavesdrop on what the immortal had said.

Nevertheless, it had been far more than enough to make Ryan instantly conscious of where he was, what he was wearing and who was seeing him wear it. In reality, he had next to no idea what Felicia, Helena or even Adele thought about the recently unearthed parts of his persona and, for the most part, his insight on their opinions amounted to nothing more than assumption and conjecture based on half-finished conversations and witnessed lines of text in a chatroom and now, here he was, dressed in a tight-fitting latex dress and standing in front of a trio of women who, for all he knew, were only accepting of the situation out of a need to be polite. He wanted to get the hell out of there and get on with serving the rest of the guests.

He would have felt a lot better if he saw neither hide nor hair of Adele and Felicia until he headed home, but a part of him knew that wasn't going to happen. "Candi, thank you for the wine." Thankfully, Helena - his immediate superior for the next few hours - seemed to be rather more understanding than he'd first thought, still insisting on using the name she'd learned when he'd introduced himself. "Please tend to the other guests and see if there is to be any event soon from Natalie."

With another eight glasses of wine left on the tray in his hand, Ryan knew that he would have to do a little bit more mingling before he could set about obeying the latter half of Helena's command. "You got it, ma'am," he sighed, trying to regain his cheery, polite composure. Returning his attention to keeping the tray balanced, he began to move away from the small group, though not before giving a quiet aside to his fiancée. "Je vais aller à la salle de bains," he informed her. After having Felicia berate his make-up in her own unique way, he was wondering if taking Adele up on her earlier offer wasn't such a bad idea. "Je te rejoins là-bas si vous voulez aider avec mon maquillage."

With each step he took away from Adele and Felicia, once more leaving Helena to keep their collective mood a cordial one, Ryan was able to build himself back up and, after wandering around aimlessly for a few moments, he threw himself right back into the swing of things, approaching clusters of well-dressed people and asking if they wanted more wine with which they could get themselves drunk. The more he acted like a woman pretending to be Ensign Candi, the more he was able to force himself to ignore how Felicia had seen through his entire ensemble in less than three seconds. It had been incredibly disconcerting and, with so many people around, it had had the potential to be a lot worse. Or not, as the case may have been. The party was, after all, a fundraiser for an equality centre down in Harlingen.

His tray finally empty, Ryan stuck the rounded plate of silver under his arm and carried it back to the rear of the bar, where it could be taken into the kitchen and washed before being returned to the stack and used again. Although it was hard for him to do so, given how often the crowd of people shifted around, Ryan was trying to make himself as visible to his fiancée as possible. Having taken her up on the offer to help out with his make-up, he was waiting for his opportunity to duck into the bathroom and, once he was there, he hoped Adele would follow him. That and she had some make-up with her to actually use, as the stuff he'd used to get ready was still in the dressing room.

But, before all that, he had a workaholic organiser to find. It wasn't that difficult. While she'd finally abandoned her clipboard, just about everything else remained the same. It was only when he saw her and began to approach that he remembered that he was wearing her thong underneath his dress. She'd seemed a little sore that she'd had to let him borrow them and he hoped that she wouldn't continue to use his forgetfulness concerning lingerie against him. "Excuse me, Ms. Jones?" At Helena's behest, he now had something to ask her and, now he thought about it, it was something about which he'd been a little curious, too. He already knew about the dinner which was coming up at some point during the night but, beyond that, he was clueless. Just what did Natalie - and, by extension, Maurelle - have in store for him. "Helena just sent me over to ask if there was anything we needed to prepare for. She's a little swamped with the guests at the moment and wanted to make sure she hadn't missed anything."

As he'd somehow expected, the response was certainly to the point and, once he found Helena again, he'd certainly relay it to her. But, right now, what Ryan wanted to do was speak with Adele in private while she helped him out with his make-up. So, after thanking Natalie for her time, the bathroom was precisely where he went. Pushing his way through the door leading into the womens' bathroom, he allowed the sole occupant to leave without saying a word before ducking into one of the stalls. Realising that it might have been a few minutes until Adele realised he'd disappeared to wait at their rendezvous, he decided to take care of another piece of business. Although it was certainly possible for him to use the bathroom while wearing his prosthetics - although it, rather fittingly, forced him to do so sitting down - ensuring the latex dress was out of the way proved to be a different challenge entirely but, after a few moments struggling to lift the hem of the dress up almost to his waist, he was able to deal with the rather embarrassing objective.

As the sound of flushing water filled the air, Ryan heard a series of footsteps approach as he pulled his dress back down. On the one hand, he hoped it was Adele but, to his chagrin, he couldn't just call out and ask who was there. In case it was someone he didn't know, Ryan elected to be as quick and professional as possible; heading out of the stall and washing his hands in the sink directly opposite while his eyes watched the mirror to see just who was there.

[Adele D'Alteau]

No quote since I'm trying to post this before they start boarding.

†††
۵ ۵ ۵

Good. Felicia was satisfied that she'd sufficiently stunned Ryan into silence. It could have been much worse. Had he caught her in a particularly nasty mood, their chance run-in could have had potentially disastrous results. Keeping her temper in check was something she had yet to master; she'd have to ask Helena how she seemed to be able to switch her moods off and on with ease.

"Je vais aller à la salle de bains." Ryan told her. "Je te rejoins là-bas si vous voulez aider avec mon maquillage." Doing so would kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. Adele could have her time alone with her fiancé, and he would be separated from Felicia for a while. No one backed off a blood vow that quickly, and Felicia was the type who harboured grudges which made hers look miniscule.

She spent the next few minutes in tense silence with Helena and Felicia until she managed to politely excuse herself from the couple as she went to search for Ryan. “Je suis désolé.” The wind had been taken out of her with Felicia's sudden realisation that Calla was most definitely not female, and not only that, but Calla was really the man that she'd been threatening to kill for well over a year. She'd had plenty of time and more than enough resources to end both of their lives, but perhaps she was just waiting until they were lulled back into a false sense of security. That was what she would have done; gained the trust of her unknowing victim before executing them without mercy.

Breaking away from the couple, she weaved her way through the crowd to the women's restroom. Finding it unoccupied save for her fiancé, she locked the door and set her purse down on the vanity in the powder room. She always carried an extra stash of makeup just in case the night called for it. Opening her bag, she took out all the necessary accoutrements and pulled up an extra seat while she waited for Ryan to finish his business and wash his hands. “Wash your face first, please. I'd like to start with a blank slate.” There were a variety of different soaps from which to choose, and she spent her time organising her instruments on the vanity's table, lining them up the order she intended on using them. By the time she'd finished with that, Ryan was patting his face dry. If she'd had things her way, she would have chosen a different wig for him—or none at all. There were plenty of flattering hairstyles she could have created with his own hair which would have given him a more feminine look.

“Sit down.” She gestured to the chair in front of her and flipped a switch on the side of the table, illuminating the lights which surrounded the mirror. All of the brushes, powders, tweezers, blotters, and liquids she needed were set on the table with surgical precision. With Ryan being considerably taller than her, sitting down put his face level with her chest (which was a part of her body he was quite fond of). Picking up the pair of tweezers from their resting spot, she plucked out a few stray hairs that he'd missed while shaving, and reshaped his eyebrows to give them more of a curve. Once she was satisfied that both sides looked even (and when the redness of his skin had disappeared—one of the downsides of being epillated), she popped open the bottle of foundation and pressed a sponge over the opening. Upturning it briefly, just long enough to saturate the top of the sponge, she placed the bottle back on the table and turned Ryan toward the mirror. He was lucky in that their skin tones were relatively similar.

She dappled a few patches of skin on his face which had minor blemishes or otherwise looked uneven. There were slight differences in skin tone all over the body; foundation helped to even them out on the face. Using the blunt bottom of the sponge, she blended it in. “Pay attention.” Picking up what looked like an old shaving brush, she dipped the bristles into an open container of neutral coloured powder. “Close your eyes.” She brushed the powder all over his face and the front of his neck. It would help to keep the glare off his face and would temporarily soak up any oils his pores exuded. Exchanging the powder brush for another, smaller brush, she rolled it around in a small pot of crushed rouge, and gently dotted it over his cheekbones. “You don't need to wear thick layers of makeup. It should really only be used to accent the features you were born with. Look up.”

She'd picked up a newly-sharpened, light-brown eye pencil and rested the heel of her hand on his face as she drew a thin line under his lower eyelid, first on the left, then on the right. “Now close your eyes.” Taking a much smaller, angular brush roughly the size of a pencil, she drenched it in the semi-solid eyeshadow she normally used and painted his eyelids a brilliant shade of green. Wiping the brush clean, she dressed the angled bristles in a second pot of eyeshadow which gleamed like dark emeralds. She used this colour in the crease of his eyelid, just below his brow. To finish, she rubbed her index finger in a light, pearlescent green powder and swiped it over his brow bones.

To complete the look, she removed the cap from her lipstick and twisted the bottom of the tube, revealing the light coloured stick hidden within. It was a pale shade of coral which matched the rest of his features quite nicely. “There. Now you can really go knock them dead.” Adele returned the myriad brushes and compacts of makeup back into her purse before she settled back to admire her work. She smiled at him softly and blushed, leaning in to kiss his lips. “You're so beautiful. I love you.”

†††
۵ ۵ ۵

† Word count: 1064
۵ Mood: GRRRAAAHHH
† Outfit: Same as previous posts.
۵ Lyrics / Quote: None.
† Illustrations: None
۵ Comment / Informational links: None.