17033/The Moulin Rogue

The Moulin Rogue
Date of Scene:	28 January 2024
Location:	Montmartre, Paris - France
Synopsis:	House hunting, fashion-shows, and a last minute rescue of notSatine from the Phantom of the Moulin Rouge. Guest starring the Peregrine Falcon, for some reason.
Cast of Characters:	Jean Grey, Rogue

---

Jean Grey has posed:
Compared to the whirlwind tourist tour of the first day, the second day in Paris begins with a relatively 'free' schedule.

The whole morning is open, an opportunity to take the city at their own pace, and specifically, for Rogue to lead the way and include any more unusual options or interests they didn't manage to hit the day before. Of course, two days isn't remotely close enough for everything (Versailles is basically a day trip of its own!), but with how many of the big hits they covered and a greater willingness to taxi around after spending the prior day walking, they can surely hit a wider variety of more niche options today.

Beyond that, they only have two 'appointments' on Jean's agenda, both somewhat mysterious. (OK, one is more mysterious than the other.) For the first, she's only mentioned that they need to be back near the center of the city after lunch. This makes it logical to find a nice chic little restaurant along the Champs Elysees, a classic option and contrast to their more Bohemian outdoor lunch the prior day. After that, they're meeting someone, somewhere, but the details are all a mystery!

The second mystery item? Well, according to Jean: "We have reservations for dinner and a show." While posed as a secret, this one may be a little easier to guess at. After all, it's hard NOT to take notice of the famous Paris landmark that happens to be literally around the corner from their hotel, with its bright red facade and WINDMILL. How could Jean have gotten them a hotel here and not planned for them to stop by?

Rogue has posed:
Aside from the moment of dramatic personal connections to the city that Rogue had displayed on the previous day, Jean may have noted that this trip had the Belle in a rather high mental place. She seemed happy here. Sure, Paris wasn't a true paradise, or a place of peaceful serenity like found in some kind of fantasy novel, but it was an eclectic locale, and it was fitting a lot of the imaginations Rogue had about it. Of course, she's a modern woman in a modern world, and with the internet at your fingertips you can get a pretty clear view of what to expect from a 'far away place' in life now, with much fewer surprises. Rogue seems perfectly content with what they've done, and seems to be quite happy here.

"I absolutely love that you've planned things." She had told Jean, not wanting to beg for details, but it was clear on her face, and in her sparkling green eyes that she WANTED to pester relentlessly. Instead, she just existed with a smile on her face, and a bounce in her step as they made the best of their second day.

When she'd first seen the big red windmil, she'd just let her eyes widen, and her smile with it. She'd not said anything, merely held her slim pointed chin up a little higher, and went on in to the dining locale that Jean had selected. Speaking in the local tongue to the serving staff, rogue seemed to be trying to insert herself here as a member of the local population. Jean had never seen Rogue in Mississippi before, but this might be similar to how she'd act there... though she'd been chased out of Mississippi with fiery pitchforks and sharp torches, or at least that is how she had described it once.

While eating, Rogue was going over a number of other phrases to help Jean ease in to speaking French of her own, while also talking to her about a personal 'want' she had for the day.

She had a selection of homes she wanted to visit, that were for sale.

"I promise, this isn't a real consideration." Rogue said, smirking toward the redhead. "I merely want the experience of ... what it would feel like, if it were. If that makes any sense at all."

She went on to show Jean a bunch of homes, both in the city, and just outside of it, desiring to visit a handful of them for just the experience and dream of it.

Jean Grey has posed:
While it would be hard for them to make the comparison without experiencing the alternative, it's fair to say that having a fluent speaker along with them had -definitely- changed the whole experience of the trip. After all, Paris is simultaneously the most popular tourist destination in the world... and notorious for a population that is often somewhat rude and standoffish to non French-speakers.

How true it is? Well, they never get to find out!

Even the times when Jean was going a little more awkwardly through whatever phrases Rogue was teaching her, having backup transformed the whole experience. A waitress might be annoyed at an American awkwardly working through her phrasebook, but an American with her French-speaking girlfriend talking her through every mistake and mis-step? That's downright cute!

The advantage also very much applies to Rogue's unique plan for the day's entertainment. If it's hard to be a foreign tourist in the city, one can only imagine that it would nearly impossible to do something non-touristy, like dealing with real estate companies and agents. Especially the sort that manage such elite and desirable properties as these. But between Jean's job title and vague rich-people adjacentness (one would assume Warren has some of these guys on speed-dial...), and Rogue's linguistic cunning? Well! Easy peasy.

House-shopping also proves convenient as they can do it basically anywhere in the city, blending in stops among whatever else they want to do and the mysterious appointments. They can hit a few places, eat lunch, and then stop by a classic old Parisian apartment on the way back. One building is only 24 million and change US, with four stories, marble floors and a grand stairway on the ground level, and balcony views Arc de Triomphe. "I think we can see the restaurant from here!" Meanwhile, Jean's appointment is near the Trocadero, and there's another one for sale that way. A steal compared to the last at only 13 million, although accounting for -only- the single level, five bedroom luxury apartment, again with balcony views. You pay more per foot when you can see the Eiffel Tower out your window, apparently.

The latter finds Jean looking out over said view, hair blowing a bit in the breeze. "These places might be a little out of our range, but I dunno if the idea itself is... totally unrealistic. Not right away, of course, but as something to think about." Maybe Rogue was joking, or at least mostly so. But Jean doesn't sound entirely un-serious. "As much as I love it, I can't be be Headmistress forever. One day, someone will take over - Ororo if it were sooner, or maybe Kitty or someone else way down the line..."

"And then I'll have to give up the nice bedroom." She laughs. Or maybe it could just be a little place out in the countryside for vacations. I don't know."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue was a good sport about teaching the language, and that is likely in-part due to her teaching poetry, and hinting at French being a possible class to bring in to the curriculum at Xaviers School next fall... She was the kind of teacher to smile at mishaps, and make jokes to help encourage those through the lesson, even with the Headmistress herself! It undoubtedly added to the 'cute' factor for any onlookers observing the Americans, of which there was a surprising amount.

At the reaction to her idea to step in to the shoes of local home shoppers, Rogue grinned openly. "I hadn't thought of askin Warren... That's a sound idea..." She'd noted, before they'd set off from the lovely little restaurant. Rogue was dressed in her leather bomber jacket today, a plush beige scarf wrapped around her neck, and tucked in to the lapel of her jacket to keep it nice and secure. Her long hair was loose, and styled in slight curls, with the whites of her bangs drawing attention, as they ever do.

Meeting with the real-estate managers showing them the properties, Rogue had been happily chatting them up, building up a rapport with them, making them all the more encouraging to show them the best features at the locales Jean had selected. Needless to say the four story site was... a lot for Rogue to take in! She'd brushed up against Jean, half way through the tour of it, and spoken quietly to her. "This is utterly beyond me in every imaginable way possible." But she'd said it with a little grin, showing that she still liked it, and still 'wanted it' anyway.

At the second site, Rogue had joined Jean at observing the view toward the Eiffel Tower. She'd taken the other's hand, and given a little squeeze. "Even Paris has Mutants that need help." She'd said, a mischievous expression coloring her facial features. "Time t'move the school here. Maybe that big ol' place could house us all?" She asked with a little laugh.

After they'd moved on, however, Rogue was brushing aside some of her own white locks from her face, while glancing at her phone. "I think, if I were to actually ever do something like this, though, I'd prefer something with a yard, away from the city. There's somethin' about all the stuff we've gone through, that gives me an underlying anxiety about city life. Maybe it's the giant robot attack wheels, or the ... killer aliens. Call me crazy."

She showcased the house and property she'd found a little ways out of the city. "We definitely don't have time to check this one out, do we?"

Jean Grey has posed:
"Oh the first one could definitely fit a school. Not quite Xaviers scale, but we could open a branch there or something. This one is just enough for you and me and... you know, half a dozen or so of our closest friends as occasional guests!"

Indeed, the overwhelming pattern to the Paris housing scene does seem to be that there's very little in the 'middle.' As part of the hunting trip, Jean allowed a breach of the phone rule to use the website for the agency they've been dealing with, to browse what they have available. It's more luxury oriented, but its cheapest offerings (a low-low eight hundred thousand!) whip past 'normal' and right into cozy little studios and 1 bedrooms, the places for your would-be 'starving' artists and modern-day Bohemians, the sorts with rich parents. And there's basically nothing with exterior space beyond those balconies. In this ancient city, they've just built up everywhere they possibly can.

"Yeah, I could go for more space, as luxurious as all this is. Maybe something out in wine country. That'd be beautiful. And hopefully robot-free." They're both more small-town girls at heart, so they seem to have a point of agreement there. Unfortunately, when she checks the listing Rogue's found, she quickly agrees. "No way to do it today. I dunno if maybe we could take a later train tomorrow and see some stuff outside the city first, but it's starting to push things. Speaking of... we've got an appointment to make!"

There will be time later for more browsing, but like everything, Jean has plotted out this stop so that they're not far from their destination.

---

There's a district of the city bordered by the Champes Elysee itself, and the avenues George V and Montaigne (and on a larger scale between the Arc d'Triomphe, the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre) called the Golden Triangle, and it's the capital of French fashion. Chloe, Dior, Christophle, Guerlain, Hermes, Louis Vuitton and Yves Saint Laurent all have their main stores or design houses here, alongside many others. The building they approach is not as impressive as any of these on the outside, indeed, it could be any of the apartments they had been visiting before. Except for the well-dressed man who meets them at the door and asks for an invitation. Magically, Jean provides one, from some little envelope she produces, and he ushers them in. "Mesdemoiselles, par ici s'il-vous-plait."

Like the ground floor of the pricey apartment building, the interior here stretches the American use of that word. It's more like a tiny little palace than an 'apartment building.' There are stairs up, but also a large ground-floor parlor designed for receiving guests. And it's here that it becomes clear what Jean has snuck them in to: the main Paris Fashion Week may yet be a month off, but that just means everyone is attending these smaller shows trying to work out the trends ahead of the 'big game.'

In this smaller space, the runway fills almost half the parlor, entering through double doors into another room that has been converted as a changing area. It means the models are quite up close as they walk for a very small crowd. No photographers or press.

Rogue has posed:
"Yeah, I don't wanna bring them with us, admittedly." Rogue spoke on their now-shared fantasy of moving here, living here. "They're all too mean, and too sassy t'be included in this dream." She'd said, giving a smirk toward Jean before she'd stared for a few more moments at the place out of the city limits that they would not have time to see. It did not disappoint the Belle -too much- considering all that she was being given on this trip to experience, as collectively this was more than Anna-Marie really ever thought she would get to do, especially after the past decade or so of her life that involved Mystique and the Brotherhood of Dick Mutants.

The fashion element of all of this was something that Rogue was no where near as experienced at as Jean was, though she certainly did enjoy fancy clothing, she was still far more used to a good pair of Wrangler jeans, some worn in cowboy boots, and a tied-off flannel shirt. That was Rogue's comfort attire, but what was on offer here-in, was something like out of a dream to her. "This is what Angels wear, I bet..." She'd quietly stated, while viewing some of the window shopping within the district. "And not the kind that march around on runways, an' get people all hot'n bothered debatin' about on social media." She further commented, grinning happily toward Jean.

But when the time came, and their forms arrived at the front doors of the cente rspotlight tonight, Rogue was in awe, happy happy awe. She'd smiled at the doorman, and thanked him in a flourish of her own tongue within the tunes of French, and swept inside alongside Jean, clutching on to her with an eager intensity.

Once inside, it was a matter of exploring similarly to a museum, but one that struck her heart a lot closer to the core. "Oh, this is nice..." Rogue was at a loss for words, introducing herself to those who greeted them, some of them even speaking English, as it so happened.

"Why ARE we doin' what we do for a livin' again?" Rogue whispered in to Jean's left ear then, as she leaned over, whilst observing one of the ongoing 'fashion shows' being put on. "This is what we should be doing, I say..."

It's possible that Jean is creating a new version of Rogue by immersing her in this experience, a version of her who wants to give up the green and gold tights, in exchange for these upper elite fashion trends!

Jean Grey has posed:
In what might contrast the expectation of such an elite space, the people in the crowd are... very happy to introduce themselves. Everyone here is obviously supposed to be here, after all. You're in the club just by being in the room. And being new faces? Well, that just makes them _interesting_.

Most, if Rogue bothers to talk to them long, are predictably fashion people of one sort or another. Designers, boutique and larger store owners, fashion consultants and stylists to the elite. Unlike outside, there's some English being spoken here, although it goes back and forth. In terms of other Americans, Rogue might spot a semi-popular blonde actress watching on the other side of the runway, who also happens to be a brand ambassador for Givenchy.

Somewhere halfway through all their initial gawking and reaction, a woman emerges from the crowd with speed and purpose. She has dark hair in an angled bob cut, wears a black dress with a large bow on (around?) one shoulder, and most of all, clearly knows... "Jean! It's been forever, I'm so glad you could come." She goes in immediately for a hug and a suitably Parsian pair of cheek kisses. "This is her?" she rounds on Rogue almost as quickly. "Oh my god. Do you know anyone who isn't absolutely gorgeous? You really SHOULD quit whatever you do and do this. I love your hair."

Temptations!

"This is Elise," Jean quickly supplies. "She was working for - who was it? Pierre Cardin? - as an assistant, back when I was modeling in college, so she was backstage with me for a few shows. Elise, this is Anna-Marie, but I think I told you most of that already!"

"You did! And you two are just too cute. Well look, I'm still on the clock, you two enjoy yourselves, mingle, and I'll talk to you after the show." The woman vanishes with all the speed of her appearance, leaving another mystery to this 'after.'

The show continues. There's a mix of styles on display, with ther current collection doing a winter/spring thing of 'skimpy outfit under BIG coat.' A woman in a mix of Emma Frost worthy almost-nothing and a huge fuzzy white coat. Another in black and white verticle stripes - both on her stockings and skirt - with a black leather jacket. Purple short-shorts and a floral see-through blouse, with a big scarf over it all. A green corset dress, black thigh boots, and a big leather trenchcoat. Much of it is pretty 'out-there' as is often the case with this high-end stuff.

Near the end, several models show off Paco Rabanne dresses of rather unusual design, some featuring plastic or metal construction, or other strange materials, and often held together in fairly 'how does that stay on?' fashion. They have time to drink and mingle, before going to meet Jean's friend.

---

Later: they're backstage. And Elise is kneeling and helping a nearly entirely naked Jean, as she makes adjustments on her with one of the dresses from that last collection. It's made of chains and metal feathers, with a very risque chest piece that amounts to pair of stylized flower pasties. They did versions in gold, silver, and red - guess which Jean is in?

"How on earth is this going to stay on the rest of the night?"

"Oh it won't - she'll need to help you put it on ahead of your dinner, and I give you... about an hour moving around before it starts to disintegrate." Elise grins like she might be joking, but... she might also not be!

Elise had met them afterward and included the other half of the whole mystery: that she'd arranged for them to borrow a couple of pieces to wear later that night.

Rogue has posed:
@emit
Naturally Rogue is flirting it up with a lot of people, be it through smiles, or little comments made both in English and French. Even with that celebrity across the way, the Belle gives her a flirtatious expression, along with even a little wave from within a black glove covering her hand. When Jean's friend finds them, the reaction that she gets out of the Belle is just a pleased look, and a few quiet words spoken in French back in return. 'Merci' being said more than once to the kind words. "I like her." is said to Jean once the bubbly friend had departed.

Settling in for the show, Rogue's eyes were wandering all across the models, not in a lecherous way, but more in a attempt to actually appraise the attires being put on display.

It is that green one, with the tall boots, and long coat that has Rogue leaning over to Jean to whisper her intrest in it, which should come as no surprise. As for the white fur coat, she gives a 'knowing look' toward Jean, considering it does look a lot like their friend back home. "Miss Boston?" Rogue had offered along with that note.

"I can't imagine doin' this kinda thing all the time... For this to become a normal event in your life." rogue was saying just after the show ended, as her eyes looked across some of the faces that clearly did live this kind of life on the regular. "It's so foreign, for lack of a better way to explain it." She'd said, following that with a light laugh. Not wanting to be an outcast though, the young Belle kept quiet, and simply followed along with Jean toward the after event in the more secluded back area.

Rogue had been ushered off by another of Elise's associates, leaving Jean to start to work in to her presented attire. When the Belle returned, she was in the green corset dress, the leather coat worn, the thigh high boots accentuating her long legs, and a glass of some unknown drink in her right gloved hand. "Wow." Rogue said upon seeing Jean. "We have /got/ to put that on your profile page on the school's website." She tells the redhead, a big smile touching her lips before she samples another sip of the drink she'd been given.

Rogue begins to move in a slow stride around where Jean is getting dressed, her eyes looking her entirely over. "Miss Elise. I need your help talkin' Jean inta lettin' us live this life rather than where we come from. Help me sway her to uprootin' and movin' here?" She asks, her accented English of Mississippian touched with that humorous undertone notorious for her being in a mischievous mood, as her own new clothing sways around her long booted legs.

Jean Grey has posed:
Earlier:

"I knew you would," Jean had said, after her old friend wandered off. "She was always fun. And smart. Knew she'd end up doing her own designs eventually. It was good luck that she's here far ahead of Fashion Week that we could catch up with her, since she bounces around between Paris, New York, London and Milan now." As the fashion people do! Maybe that's another side to the life that Rogue is looking in on - it's glamorous, but also pretty hectic.

Which informs Jean's next remark: "It was a little too much for me, you know? Fun in small bursts, to make some money doing something fun and wearing pretty stuff, but to really succeed takes a lot more."

---

Later:

"You will not," Jean almost squeaks. "No pictures of this, ever! I almost asked if she could find me a mask or something to go with it." The reaction also has her turning to see Rogue as she arrives in her own borrowed fashion. "Oh that's perfect on you-"

"-stahp movin!" Elise calls from her position, talking around a pin held in her mouth. "OK, I think I have it all adjusted. So you should be good to go. Lemme give you some double-sided tape to take with you."

As for convincing Jean to leave the heroes life behind?

"Oh, I'm behind you on that one-hundred percent. I always told Jeanie she could have easily kept going with this. But she always had a midterm or final or paper... or some kind of excuse. So she'd be studying while we were having our pretty people cocaine and sex parties." In general, Elise seems very easygoing about saying totally ridiculous things, so it's hard to tell what, if any of it, is exaggerated!

"I think you'd do better commercial than couture," she goes on to tell Rogue, which is... really just a polite industry way of talking about her boobs. The runway really looks for tall and thin over curves. "But that's not nothing. If anything, there's more money there now, with social media."

Finally, she stands up. "Alright. Let's get you two packed up." Which paves the way for the final installment of the evening, the place Rogue had to suspect it would end up.

---

"Mesdemoiselles et Messieurs! Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome, to the time of your lives! Bienvenue a la Moulin Rouge!"

Where else was it ever going to end?

Time has passed, enough for them to wander and relax, perhaps enjoy another house or two, but also to get back to the hotel with plenty of time to freshen up, get (re-)dressed and get ready for the show. It is, after all, only a short walk across the Place Blanche to the infamous and still-running world famous Cabaret.

Though no longer quite the den of sin it once was, attracting international audiences and many a tourist, it remains nonetheless a somewhat upscale and adult establishment. There is a dress code, but one that _encourages_ a number like Jean's while banning casualwear. It is still painted and lit red, the stage framed with rich velvet curtains while the floor has replaced the main dance area with table seating around an extending runway. Its decorative details include old posters from the period. And the costumes?

Well, they haven't changed all that much in spirit. High-low skirts that show off ruffled bloomers, bustiers and corsets or bikini tops, feathers, sequins... it's a heck of a show.

Rogue has posed:
Rogue wasn't really sure what 'Commercial instead of Couture' was implying, but she did take it in stride, only paying a small glance to herself in that corset dress. It fit her surprisingly well, unlike Jean's, not requiring a lot of work to get her in to it, but she was still busting from it, so to speak. taking it all in stride. "I'm not allowed to post risque photos on my socials..." She quietly did reply to Elise. "Part'n parcel with havin' young students in a classroom settin', I think." She states, now grinning a little toward Jean. Whether that was true or not, was not clearly defined, though! Instagram model pictures? Maybe fine. Full on OnlyFans slummin? Probably be jobless after that point.

On the way out, Rogue had leaned over toward Jean, holding her outfit in a bag in front of her. "Do we get to keep this stuff?"

Once back in the hotel, Rogue had showered and cleaned up quite quickly, before she'd thrown the outfit back on, and instantly started snapping photos, and posting them to her social media pages anyway. She even posted a full video of about 10 minutes in length, entirely in French, which was bound to get a fair amount of attention on her Mighty Woman profiles. She'd left Jean out of it all, though, by request! She had, however, mentioned their intended entertainment locale for the evening, which had all kinds of positive comments being left, along with silly gifs, racey photos, and other internet hilarity. When in the hotel room, the 'phone rule' was even more bent, if not outright broken!

But soon there-after, the duo was off for their evening affair! Rogue was ecstatic at it all too, moving with a fluid grace that was punctuated by her fluid graceful movements, energetic and beaming with an inner light. She kept close to Jean, one arm hooked around the others, or offering the same in return, as they navigated the Moulin Rouge, and its inhabitants this evening. With her hair brushed back straight now, leaving her white bangs in a singular 'skunky' stripe down the back of her head, Rogue's makeup was smokey, alluring, with dark eyeliner and eye shadow helping her eyes pop even more at the sights she was witnessing. "Okay, this is definitely even more foreign of a life than the modeling show." She said toward her date for the evening. She noticed a pair of men in fancy penguin tuxes eyeing them both, and a quick wave, a sweet smile, and a blown kiss was sent their way from the Belle.

Jean Grey has posed:
They do not, in fact, get to keep the dresses!

The whole loaner thing is either just a simple favor for a friend... or a bit of tricksy viral marketing on Elise's part. No one expects press for a couple of low-key tourists out doing fun but very typical romantic stuff, but people do have phones and you never know what might trend. And even if she never said it out loud, the fact that one of those Mighty Woman posts gets an instantaneous like from the press account for the show they just went to... uh, it seems like she DEFINITELY knew who Rogue was. Tricksy woman!

Why get some actress to wear it down the red carpet when you can get a genuine superheroine out on a date?

So Jean and Rogue are advertising. No biggy. Heck if she really wants to throw away the hero job and model full time...

---

At the show, Jean can only laugh at how strange Rogue finds it. "Really? Don't they have a bit of this in the south, kind of? Seems like the kind of show you could see on one of those river steamboats." Probably nothing QUITE so over the top!

From there, the night plays out as one might expect. The shows has a vague storyline (something about a circus featuring various misfits and would-be lovers), although most of the focus is certainly on the performances: the dancers are exquisite, putting on complex group choreographies with elaborate sets, set to equally upbeat music, or occasionally highlighting even more involved solo dances. At one point they march down the central runway, near Rogue and Jean's table...

And suddenly leap down to surround them, bursting into a rendition of 'Bon Anniversaire' for the lucky Belle. By the end, Jean is grinning almost too wide for her face to contain it, and leans in to give Rogue a kiss - to the hoots and appluse of nearly the whole place! They've become, at least for the moment, part of the act!

"Happy birthday, you." And that, really, would be enough excitement for the night, one would think. But it's not where it stops.

The story has gone on a while, to the point where the star of the production, another redhead - gasp! - named Adele, is performing a scene pining over her misfortunes, believing herself doomed to be sold by the ringmaster to a rich patron of the show. A moving panel closes in front of her, and from behind it, there's a scream. In silhouette, she can be seen struggling with someone, and then carried away.

The audience carries on, laughing and drinking.

She keeps screaming, although the sound quickly muffles. Some of the dancers look around in confusion. "Ce n'est pas ainsi que nous l'avons repete..." murmurs one to another.

Rogue has posed:
"If'n they had this kinda entertainment in Meridian, I might not have left." Rogue responded with regard to her hometown. "Maybe the closer ya get to Texas, or down near New Mexico... Most we had was a bowlin' alley that put on a few plays after the theater burned down long before I was born." She really makes Meridian sound way more podunk than it actually is!

When the show became suddenly focused upon them, Rogue was surprised by this, and some part of her felt a tingle of danger, but it wasn't her seventh sense, it was more-so her cynicism toward life itself after having lived so many crazy events. But it only took a few seconds for the Belle to see this was pre-arranged, and with it she melted right in. She melted right in to the kiss too, making it a good one for everyone watching, a clear measure of her pretty facial features working muscles along her jawline as she gave a passionate kiss to her dinner companion this evening, for setting this up. Birthdays were a big deal to Rogue, and more than a few of them had been pretty awful for her, but since coming to Xaviers, they seem to have been getting better and better...

She had a sultry smile, for Jean, when she'd parted from the kiss, and had given her hand a firm squeeze through the black glove she wore with her green corseted dress. The kiss, and the reaction it had gotten from everyone, had Rogue smiling, and even offering a little wave, before she settled back in to the entertainment.

She, like everyone else, paid no heed to the scream, not at first anyway. It was what she heard the cast member mutter that made her loft an eyebrow, and reconsider some of what had just happened.

This is when Rogue leaned in close to Jean again, shoulder to shoulder, but not for lovin this time, but to whisper.

"That guy there just said somethin' about not rehearsin that scream. Ya sense anythin strange?" She asks, lips close to Jean's ear since the noise level in the theater was a bit high in the moment.

Jean Grey has posed:
Rogue's tongue comes to the rescue - and not just with that kiss!

As soon as she mentioned the off-sounding comment, Jean's brow furrows, and she looks around. "I'd been very consciously NOT trying to sense anything at all. But-" And it really only takes her an instant to flip that switch, to ease back on the very dense layers of filtering it takes to keep the background in the background, and let it all come flooding in. Of course, that presents its own challenge: it's a crowded room with lots of people on emotional highs, so there's a lot of stray thoughts bouncing around.

But this is Jean, and she's not new at this. She can cut through all the guys (and a few gals) whose imaginations are going wild about the dancers, cut past the waitstaff's boredom and irritation and over-excited tourists, focus on the stage, on the various dancers and their growing worry, and then toward the now-missing Adele-

"Oh, it's definitely not part of the show. She's scared out of her wits. Some guy grabbed her, I can see her thoughts of him, some stalker fan, but... I can't find his mind."

Her brow etches deeply with all of this. 'Spoiling' the vacation with superheroing was something she was very much trying to avoid. But it's not like either of them could sit here and ignore it.

In the meantime, it seems like realization has slowly come to the cast up on stage at least, as their performance has paused. The Impressario has come out, "Desole... ah, apologies, we are having ze, ah, technical deeficulties."

"I'm following her, she's heading... up, somewhere. Whaddya want to do?"

Rogue has posed:
Rogue, with her gloved hand still interlaced fingers with Jean's own, Rogue felt her body stiffen up some at the confirmation that something was 'up'. She had her eyes laser-focused on the stage, and the people on it, watching to see if any of them were acting unusually, as Jean settled in, located at least one of the parties-involved minds' and then spoke the update. Rogue looked over to Jean then, her bottom lip tucked into her mouth as she had been anxiously chewing lightly upon it. But now, she spoke. "I'm gonna go after them. You clear everyone so they don't see me, and keep'em calm. Keep track on her mind, give me whatever updates ya got. Make sure a stampede doesn't break out in here?" She lays it out, her plan anyway, as she gave Jean's hand a light squeeze, and her cheek another peck.

The Belle stood up then, her dress far more giving to action and movement than Jean's would be, but she knows Jean can easily change in to anything else so should she desire.

A moment there-after and Rogue was up in the air, floating up and moving over the stage. She'd hoped that Jean would block people from being able to see her, but she admittedly still didn't fully grasp what Jean was, and wasn't, capable of... No matter, though, the stage was being flown over, and where that lead actress had gone, Rogue was now headed toward, with her own green dress fluttering in the wake behind her!

"You said they're going up?" Rogue's voice comes over the mind connection, a mental muscle she's all too familiar with flexing these days, much like the other mental muscle she was taught how to flex to help seal-off her skin contact effect.

"If it's some derranged lunatic fan, he might be takin' her up there to throw her off the damn roof..." Rogue further states, as she tries to navigate the back area of this legendary theater.

In fact, it's hard to even keep her focus, considering all the times she'd watched the musical namesake film that was based on this place in her life, starting with her mother first introducing her to it when she was very young!

Mighty Woman, floating and flying, was a consummate professional hero too, right?!

Jean Grey has posed:
These two are beyond 'teamwork,' but the training still applies. Rogue calls the play, and Jean is ready to go: "Roger that. Go get her."

Also, she can't move fast right now without severe possibility of a wardrobe malfunction, so 'sit and play crowd control' sounds good to her! It would really be nice if she didn't have to scrub -that- image out of everyone's minds on top of whatever else might happen.

In any case, it's a relatively easy plan to execute. Already the crowd is pretty distracted, with attention focused toward the stage (and some of the backstage area immediately behind it), so no one is paying much attention to a patron up and moving through the seats, although flight might be a bit out of the usual. Still, it's not too hard to sell it in their minds given that it was a stage show about a circus. What's another pretty lady swinging around in the air? And Jean really prefers those 'gentle' nudges when at all possible.

As she actually lands ON the stage, one of the dancers moves up to her, but as she starts talking, it's clear Jean is 'in' there... at to some degree. Mostly because she speaks English, although even then, it feels fifty-fifty. "She said a man was always coming by her dressing room, but I don't remember ever seeing him, we told her she was imagining things- you know, she's very popular. Some of us thought she was stuck-up with the fame."

The woman's admissions are spoken in her own voice, although obviously, Jean is helping them come out easier.

<<It's so strange, all of them remember Adele mentioning him, but none of THEM ever saw him, or remember him at all... Weird. Anyway. Yes. I think you're right. Feels like they're going up the windmill. There's a spiral stair around the mechanical shaft, should be able to shoot right up it...>>

Jean can also pull the floorplan from all of their heads, so she's a useful navigational aid. All told, this makes it a quick trip for the Belle. Navigating through the elaborate setpieces backstage, she passes an unconscious man - a stagehand, maybe? Another victim? - before reaching those stairs and being able to shoot straight up the inside of the mill.

In the end, Rogue's instinct proves true. There's some kind of maintenance room at the top of the thing, with some signs of habitation, old wine bottles and plates. While the windmill wheels are normally kept turning for the tourists (now using modern motors as backup), they've halted. An open window shutter creaks with the wind, revealing the cold night beyond, and once through it, she finds them.

Two figures, the beautiful Adele and... a man? Someone so plain that it feels almost difficult to focus on him, as if he weren't even there.

Jean's voice: <<Did you find them? I still can't->>

"Only you ever saw me... and you rejected me! But now, now they all will..." comes a voice like oil, slippery and hard to grasp.

"Please," begs Adele. "Don't hurt me. I'm grateful for the gifts, but you have to understand-"

Perhaps he makes the first move. Perhaps Rogue does by instinct. But either way, it happens. There's movement. And in an instant, from the stilled sail of the windmill, both begin to fall.

Rogue has posed:
Having a random stage performer approach her and talk in a cadence similar to a girl from New York is enough for Rogue to know that Jean is a puppet master, of sorts. Some part of Rogue finds that use of her power to be unsettling, but who is she to judge? She's the 'icy hand of death' as some have described her! "Right." Rogue simply said back as she ventured further in to the bowels of the Moulin Rouge. "Birthday cake later?" She asked over her shoulder as she held her dress up enough to navigate more easily.

Once she found the downed stage hand, she frowned. "We got at least one injured guy back here. I dunno if they have medics on-site, but if they do, and you know where they are, you better get them back here as quietly as you can." Rogue further said through their shared connection.

When she reached the spiral staircase, her gloved hand ran across the curved railing, silently feeling the kinetic presence of the new place, some part of her still in awe of even being in this damn building, but she had to remain focused!

"I'm concerned that you couldn't read his mind too. That's rare, right?" She asks, as she starts to move up the stairs, her boots clinking on the steps as she advances up a few paces before she starts flying again. "Damn, this place is beautiful, in a weird way..." She mutters more distantly. "Makes me think I was predictin' the future when I told ya Paris has Mutant problems too earlier..."

Flying, but with her hands on the railings, Rogue silently spins and spins until she reaches the top, where her eyes see the signs of a bit of drunken enjoyment. She gathers up a wine bottle, tipping it over to see it empty save for a few crimson droplets. "Someone's been boozin, maybe dwellin in their own head..." She mutters, before the movement of the open window draws her eyes.

Rogue flips the bottle over, catching it by its long neck, and quickly sweeps her body over to peer out the window. She can hear voices within a matter of seconds, then, and draws in a light breath. "Got'em." She informs Jean through the link between their minds.

A few simple guiding motions with her hands, one still clutching that emptied wine bottle, Rogue manuevers out of the window on to the roof. She drops down upon it, as she starts to walk toward the pair of voices having a heated back and forth. "They're definitely not singin' about the world bein' filled with too many love songs." Rogue further states, a second before she's about to speak to them. "Shit!" She suddenly gasped, when she saw what was happening.

"He did it, the son of a bitch! They're fallin'! I'm goin---!"

Rogue went silent then, but Jean would be able to feel her through the distance between them. Rogue's heart was beating fast, her mind was racing, images of the Belle rushing across the rooftop of the red windmill, and diving over its edge!

Screams echoed out in to the night, the poor Adele forced to feel her last moments on Earth be consumed with fear, terror, and adrenaline!

The pair rushed toward the pavement outside, the sounds of Paris all around them, as their deaths were soon to become a new legend within this romantic locale!

Or, that is how it might have played out, if Rogue hadn't been here. Jean could have easily saved them, if she'd been able to be here herself, but in lieu of that telekinetic invisible hand, the two falling figures instead are clutched by the gloved hands of the Mississippi Magnolia, holding them by their armpits, just a handful of feet off of the ground.

"ya'll sure know how t'put on a show here, don't ya?" She asks them, her smokey voice the sound of an angel for one, and maybe a demon for the other.

She sets them down on the ground, releasing Adele, while holding hard still on to the man's arm. She gives Adele a small smile, before she looks to the bewildered man's face, and slowly shakes her head at him. "Not cool."

Jean Grey has posed:
<<I'll send one of them back there to find him,>> Jean quickly confirms, for the downed man. <<It IS very strange. But you're right. He could be a mutant. Some kind of... mental cloaking, maybe? Would explain no one remembering him.>>

Still, all of that? It's what we'd call a LATER problem. The more pressing one is standing right in front of her, or rather, soon plummeting toward the Boulevard de Clichy at an alarming pace.

Rogue, of course, dives after them! And at this point, two things happen.

The first, for all the drama of that terrifying fall and the high-speed dive that follows, is almost forgone. A falling damsel who just happens to be a show-stopping redheaded beauty? Rogue makes THAT save for sure. She has a record to uphold!

The second thing is that she feels a rush of air and movement beside her, as a second figure drops out of the air after the two of them, from a different angle. It's a man with wings. Who is not Warren. Though... the Worthington IP lawyers might want a crack at him, in his blue and purple suit and 90s headsock. The wings might be part of the costume, in this case, it's kind of hard to say.

As they plummet, he flies along side them, behind first but closing in. "Je vous sauverai- oh? Peut-etre pas."

Rogue has them, though, and lands without difficulty. The crowd all around (it's a busy street in front of a busy establishment) all cheers! Either Elise is a PR genius, or she's... a PR genius villain who plotted this whole thing?

Man #1: "Regarde! C'est le Faucon Pelerin! Et...qui est-ce?"

Man #2: "Idiote! C'est la Femme Puissant! Vous savez, le heros americain avec l'enorme..." He cups his hands in front of his chest.

As they wait for the 'Gendarmes,' Rogue will get to sign some autographs. Adele has fainted during the fall, but set gently wherever she is, she eventually comes back awake and blinks a few times, before shooting a look at the other hero (apparently the 'Peregrine Falcon') in exasperation "Qu'est-ce qui vous a pris tant de temps?!"

Do they... know each other? It's all very strange. Eventually, the police do show up, of course, to take the man into custody. He has no ID, and a face that can only be described as staggeringly plain. Jean comes out with the other 'normal' customers, but waits for Rogue to answer whatever questioning.

And by the time they make it back to the hotel? They'll already have forgotten his face.