Party Like It's Nineteen-Fifty-Five

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Where: The Moulin Rouge

When: August 26, 1955; Night

What: Those poor butterflies.

The music in the main room of the Moulin Rouge is the latest and greatest. For the time. Some folks at the party may find it a little dated, but through no fault of the performers. The official excuse for this party was for various businesses and moneyed individuals to network with the upcoming sales along the Strip. It's prime real estate. Everyone wants a slice.

However, the party holds more than business people. And it's not the stuffy sort of event it promised to be. People laugh, drink, smoke, and dance; they slip off to dark corners and slip back in with mussed hair and smudged makeup. No one notices. It might be the Fifties, but Vegas never changes.

The room's been cleared of dining tables, and instead, smaller set ups dot the edges of the room. But it's clear that they never intended this to be a dull event.

In his former life — one where he doesn't wear a rock t-shirt and ripped jeans to pour cheap beer for college kids each night — Jamison Finnegan aimed to follow a career path that would lead to him wearing suits and ties on a daily basis. If he'd succeeded, he would have at least looked good playing that role. The gray suit today is accented by a matching fedora. The other accessories are the cigar that he holds in one hand and the sweet Southern belle (at least for today) he has on his other arm.

His eyes slide over those present as he moves toward the dance floor. It's as good a place to keep watch as any, and this way he and Amelia can keep their eyes on opposite ends of the party. "Having fun, sweetheart?"

Tilly is enjoying herself. Which is significant considering that the tall blonde company agent has relegated herself to dresses as befitting the time period. While here, Tilly's been busy waiting out the time, doing a little shopping. Vintage clothing, in pristine condition? It's something that someone can make a bit of money off without disrupting the timeline, like putting in shares for apple.

So in a red dress, sitting at a table parked on the edge of the dance floor is Tilly, enjoying a drink or two.

Mingling isn't so bad when you're an unknown face and actually dressed to blend in. Unlike Zan's original foray through the hotel, it isn't a tux that keeps him from standing out but a coat and tie befitting of anyone like in age. And while he doesn't have a lot to converse about with the strangers of yesteryear, he's a few years worth of practice making small talk and moving on before it gets dull. Plus, it gives him his own opportunity to listen to gossip and news.

For the most part Zan sidles from group to group, drifting fairly aimlessly. Always within eyesight of Amelia and Finnegan, however he rarely glances their way. Still chafing, perhaps.

And then there's Paul over in another corner, who had the minor advantage that he normally dresses about like this anyway. The fabric may be slightly different than he's used to, but the look hasn't changed much over the decades. "Do you think we need some more drinks? I think we need some more drinks." After a quick nod from his tablemate, he motions to the first server that wanders by, glancing toward her backside for effect while he's at it. The man across from him doesn't so much glance as gawk openly.

"Endless fun, darling," Amelia says as they take to the dance floor. "We should think about moving here." She's in a black satin dress, the skirts are big and poofy and her little waist is marked by a white belt. The only other splash is the white lace gloves over her hands. She watches the party— not exactly over his shoulder, given that he's a little too tall for that, but she manages. All with the wide-eyed wondered of a naive thing on her first trip to Sin City.

Paul's companion is The Right People, and he seems to be mingling well enough, since the man doesn't look to be leaving. The promise of drinks might help, though. Tilly gets a tap on her shoulder, where a solidly build, but short fellow tries to get her attention. "Dance, miss?" He asks hopefully, his smile charming, at least.

"I spy Goat Girl," murmurs Finn into Amelia's ear in his low Southern drawl. A wink is given to Tilly as Finnegan's gaze passes across her, before a quarter turn on the dance floor gives him a new view of the dance room.

"I'm guessing she's RSVP'd properly and all and isn't just crashing." Such clever code. "Anyone else look out of sorts, besides our pal Al?" This last is sad quieter yet, and refers to Zan, of course, but Finn's taken to calling him Al in his attempt to utterly irritate the younger man.

"It's your toes" There's no accent of any kind coming from Tilly, not particularly adept at that in the first place. But she eases out of the chair and offers her hands to the man. Finn's glance is caught and he - as well as Amelia - are on the recieving end of a little wriggle from her fingers, shoulders lifted as if to say tee heee, golly gee ain't this fun. But you know, mentally. Directed at Amelia. Then she's off with her new dance partner to lead her onto the floor. "Do I get a name to go with the dance?"

After a round that skirts the dance floor itself, Zan finds himself a spot along the wall to linger and watch. He can still see Finn and Amelia, mostly. Which means they should be able to pick him out easily enough, not entirely out of place. His hands push into his trouser pockets as he takes another look over the crowd. Then double taking as someone looking remarkably like Tilly finds her way out onto the floor. His head shakes slightly trying to dismiss the notion and return his attention to the gathering as a whole.

Who doesn't like drinks? That's another thing that hasn't changed all that much— the brand names, sure, but once again the differences are subtle. While his companion's distracted, Paul takes a quick look around: there's one face he's pretty sure he recognizes, and one or two others that he thinks he might. Just how many agendas /are/ converging on this one unusual opportunity, anyway? Maybe he'll be lucky and they won't need to interfere with one another. Sure.

"She's Nobara's date," Amelia says with a smirk. There's a glance up at Finn, a smile, keeping up appearances of Happily Fifties Married, before she nods to Tilly. "And give me a sec, it takes a while to get through everyone." It is a crowd, that's for sure. But Paul might notice a certain look his direction as Amelia sweeps the room. She doesn't need to read his mind. "Just once, I would like a full briefing one of these days," she murmurs, mostly to herself, but to Finn, too.

"Patrick," the man answers Tilly. And while this is the era of skinny pants and ties, this man has a baggy sort of look to him. As if he wasn't quite able to find a suit that really fit. But he takes her hand to get her out to the floor. He's a good dancer, at least.

For Zan, though, the tone of the party probably changes sharply when the Doctor comes in through one of the entrance arcs, and at his side, none other than the missing Rylie. Or not so missing just now. She's in period dress, too, and even looks comfortable in this setting.

"I think those are a myth," quips Finn back to his date as their circling of the dance floor allows him to see the doctor and Rylie enter the party. His brows lift slightly, before he ducks his head. Amelia's shoulder is kissed lightly, which allows Finn to take a moment and study the pair more discreetly.

The eagle has landed. Goldilocks and Doctor Bear, all in one. Looks like he's carrying. You think he knows who we are? Finn thinks, probably too loudly, at his dance partner. As he lifts his lips from her shoulder, his slate-hued eyes slide curiously to the known entities in the room to take in their reactions — Zan and Tillie anyway.

Tilly hasn't met the good Doctor, and so her attention isn't on him. It's on her dance partner, who she unfortunately, keeps trying to overtake his leading. She's not a terribly great dancer. "Hello Patrick. I'm Matilda" Woords never uttered back in the general normal unadultered timeline. "Sorry. I'm used to leading"

The Doc might be of some cautiously interesting note, but seeing Rylie with him has Zan straightening. His forehead creases, furrows forming as his brows pinch together and for a long few seconds he looks like he may cut through the crowd to confront the Doctor and act rather angrily, possibly even violently. Muscles twitch in his jaw as his teeth clench together, but he remains at his vantage point for the moment, while staring askance at his girlfriend.

Paul remains still, unobtrusive— as best he can under the circumstances, which isn't great, but most people have drunk more than enough for him to pass. Yes, she woman over there looks familiar, if only just. The other man doesn't, now he gets a closer look; probably just a random coincidence. "Excuse me a moment? Need to hit the head." He stands up and starts wandering through the crowd, casually lingering near Zan's table along the way. "Bad time?" he asks, getting his first close look at how upset he looks.

The kiss gets a soft smile that isn't anything like the Amelia her colleagues know, but she's In Character now, so it's all affection and flutters. Right on schedule, is her mental reply, her slyness left there, rather than letting it bleed through to her outward demeanor. I think he knows we're not what we say. I think he knows that about a lot of us. Which us she means is anyone's guess. Maybe more than one. Watch out for Al, huh? He's going to do something stupid. Compulsion can only help so much.

"Well, Matilda, that makes you a rare bird, indeed," says Patrick, smiling wider. She's weird, but he might like weird, by the way he moves closer to her, despite her… unique dancing skills. Unfortunately, this also alerts her to the fact that there's something strapped to his leg under those too-loose pants. And it isn't anything fun.

The Doctor doesn't seem to see Zan, but he is looking around. his hand hovers on Rylie's shoulder, an almost fatherly gesture. Definitely protective. Rylie, though, glances right at him, but away again without it seeming to register who he is.

Getting in and out of clubs largely unnoticed is a skill which comes only with experience. Nobody pays too much attention to the normal looking guy; unfortunately for Nobara, even in the Rouge, he happens to stick out enough that said experience- doesn't do him any good. It's only several years out of a war, and Asia is in knots across the sea. Young and mixed race gets him a cursory second look over when he gets to the convergent club, though as well-dressed as Nobara is, he can't be anything but a fellow looking for a good time. Gunmetal grays, blacks, and tans make up his suit, and he adjusts his hat- jauntily tilted- as he makes it inside. There's a good chance he was making a second case of the outside.

Nobara is able to spot his temporary partner from across the floor, in her red dress, and before 'Matilda' turns the next time, she will see him looking straight back to her before moving off to take point nearby, hands into pockets and eyes on faces. Sometimes on drinks. He could use one, certainly. Sometime soon, hopefully.

Got it, Finn replies mentally, before steering Amelia toward the edge of the dance floor that just happens to be closest to Zan too. "I think it's time for a drink, huh?" he asks. Close to Zan now, he smiles at the other man. "See someone you want to dance with, I see. Let's just let her catch her breath a bit before we take her off the arm of her date, ya think?"

A hand falls on the Zan's shoulder as he releases Amelia. Lowering his voice, he leans close to Zan as if to give some brotherly advice. "Keep cool, kid. No scenes," is hardly profound advice, but it serves as more of warning.

"Why Patrick, is that a Luger in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" Coo's Tilly to her dance partner, deliberately bringing him closer, making it harder for him to just reach down and grab whatever fun - To Tilly, no gun is ever not fun unless it's pointed at her - thing is strapped to his leg.

"Let me guess. Not CIA. You can't party on the motherland without fingers getting wagged and lots of paperwork. FBI? Possibly. The suit does scream ill fitting. Not Military Intelligence, because that alone is an oxymoron. Lets keep dancing shall we" Tilly's grinning at him, mooney eye'd seeming to those not looking. "I'll lead"

A flick of his eyes takes his gaze to Paul, and Zan shakes his head. No, not a good time. His attention is back on Rylie in time to see her show… nothing. Not the reaction he was expecting, though it could be chalked up to blending in. Maybe. Not that he believes it is. His gaze moves to the Doc then back again, and when Finn's hand finds his shoulder, he pulls it away almost roughly. "Something's not right," he asides to Finnegan just as he starts moving, angling himself to keep pace with Rylie and the Doc while working his way toward them. Hopefully he's managing to at least smooth his expression.

Paul nods to Zan, turning again and following his gaze to— Rylie. Another familiar face, albeit they've only met a couple of times. A friend of Zan's, though, so when she looks at him like a complete stranger… An educated guess forms quickly. Not that it suggests a specific course of action, bereft of context— but it seems likely that /something/ big is about to go down. Making a face, he continues on his way, watching the others but putting some more distance between them and himself.

Amelia breaks away from Finn, shorter form disappearing behind bodies quickly enough. She follows after Paul, not letting him get too far out of her sight. Given that she's out of just about everyone's line of sight, it's hard to say if she's doing good or not. Except for Finn, who gets to hear her mental humming in his mind.

Rylie and the Doctor start a slow circuit; they aren't hard to keep up with. But when he notices he's being followed, the Doctor points Zan out to Rylie. And this time, she has a good look over before she turns back to the Doctor. Whatever she's saying, she looks puzzled rather than relieved.

But there may not be time to dwell on that, not for long. Nobara gets a good view, as he spots Tilly dancing, being sassy, when her partner opts not to engage in witty banter. Instead, the dance takes a decidedly kinkier turn, as he uses his hold on her hands to twist her around, wrist at her back before he puts her over a table. And it really might be for fun, by the way people around them are just drunk enough not to get it until a badge and cuffs come out. One silvery ring makes it around Tilly's wrist as gasps start over the crowd.

Nobara can at least look like he has something. Even if it belongs to someone else. There is an empty table and a half-empty martini that finds its way into his hand before he skirts off into the club again. Stealing drinks is one thing he is still good at, regardless of period. He just about tosses it over his shoulder when the man with Tilly grabs her; the only thing that stops him is the set of handcuffs that he whips out a moment later. Minawa slinks to a crawling pace, looking on from behind shoulders and past arms.

For whatever reason she's being cuffed, that last thing that Nobara needs is to be taken in himself for obstruction. It's not cowardice, per se. Stalking. Nobara waits, foxlike, dark eyes catching a glimpse of familiar shapes and faces amidst the club before they go back to Tilly and her arresting officer(?).

"Got it. Play it cool. Stay close and don't approach us unless I ask you to," murmurs Finnegan again; his eyes are on the doctor, Rylie, and Zan so he misses the bit of excitement seeing Tilly get cuffed. When he sees Doc motion to Zan, Finn takes it as his invitation. Making a motion of patting down his pockets for something, he says a bit louder, "See if you can find me a lighter or a matchbook, will ya, kid?" Zan is pushed very lightly in the opposite direction as Finn turns to follow the doctor purposefully, a broad grin on his face.

Keep him behaving, will ya, doll? he asks Amelia, as he takes some quicker steps to close the distance. "Doc! Good to see you here," Finn says, offering a hand to the other man. "And who do we have here?" An appraising look is given to Rylie.

Tilly is surprised at what's happening. Surprised in that it was someone official. Far as she knew she hadn't brought anything through to tip off people or done anything suspicious. There's a wince at the hand yanked behind her back and shoved unceremoniously to the table, unable to see what badge is being brandished. The familiar feel of handcuffs are being settled into place, though normally she's on the giving as opposed to receiving end.

This was not on the books for tonight, and she looks at the adjacent table, then twisting her head a little to look up at her arresting officer. "It's my dress isn't it? The red just makes it such a killer dress." She looks back to the table, throwing out her ability in the hopes of finding an injury in the area that she could use against the agent. "Fashion police. My petticoat was showing. Remember ladies, keep your knee's covered!" Nothing.

The troubled lines that marked Zan's expression earlier return and the suggestion to do Something and keep it cool do little to offset it. Even when he's pushed backward, his weight shifts with it and his attention remains on Rylie. Trouble with telling Zan to do anything, is he's highly likely to do just the opposite. Tonight seems to be no exception, though he could probably pilfer any number of matchbooks off waiting tables, he steps right in beside Finn. Doc is given a look, something struggling not to be outright accusatory with it's unspoken question. But then his gaze drops, head bowed, so that he can watch the unfolding from beneath his brows.

On paper, heading for the bathroom seemed like a nice generic excuse to get in a couple minutes of general recon time. In practice… well, the saying 'no battle plan survives first contact with the enemy' is probably older than Paul is. Why should there suddenly be an exception now? Just as he starts to duck around a corner and glance back toward Amelia, he's bumped into by a party girl on her way back /into/ the crowd: red hair, blue eyes, yellow dress, and booze on her breath. "Well, it's about time /someone/ paid attention to me," she declares as he turns to face her.

I think it might be time for misbehaving, Finny, Amelia pauses as Paul's bumped into, backing up a few steps. And with good reason. Miss Party Girl has Paul shoved up against the wall soon enough, the convincing butt end of a gun doing it's best to encourage him to stay still. And just when Amelia is feeling safe, there's a hand on her arm, grabbing too tight for her liking. And she's shoved along toward Paul's exit as well. Only, once she's out of the party, both her attacker and Paul's seem to suffer syncronized migraines and crumble to the ground. She scoops up the gun before she takes Paul's arm, nicer. "Come with me if you want to live. I have always wanted to say that."

"You're under arrest for espionage and treason," Patrick says, no nonsense and no sense of humor. "I suggest you come quietly," is added, a hiss into her ear. The whispers go through the crowd, communist is still a dirty word, after all. Even the music stops.

From their vantage point, it's hard for Finn and Zan to see what's going on on the other side of the party. some commotion, for sure. But in front of them, The Doctor greets the pair without his trademark smile. "Mister Finnegan. You and your wife seem to be keeping odd company. This is Miss Abrams—" And Miss Abrams does a little courtesy, smile and all, at her name. "And while your young man there insists he knows her, she's just told me she's never seen him before in her life." He looks between the two, waiting for an explanation.

Whispers pass rather quickly for the time, and all Nobara can do to keep from acting suspicious, is to act curious for longer. There's still some distance between him needing to distract the room, and the need for him to wait and see what happens from here. They weren't expecting to be apprehended, much less questioned. Nobara sidesteps quietly towards the outer edge of the crowd, though he makes sure to try and keep at least Tilly in his line of sight. Unless there is a deliberate call for backup from the other side of the club, Tilly is where he has to keep his attention. He hasn't been harassed, either. So far.

"Perhaps she has a doppelganger somewhere in the world. Miss Abrams," Finnegan says, bowing and reaching for her hand, playing the part of the Southern gentleman and drawing her hand up to his lips lightly, his eyes searching hers, flicking left and then right as if to read her expression.

You got trouble? he asks back, and glances to the side to see where Amelia may have gone to — only then does he see the commotion over the supposed commie over where Tilly's been handcuffed. He looks back at the doctor, eye brows questioning. "I wonder what that's all about." But he doesn't look too worried. "Might I re-introduce you, Miss Abrams, to Mr. Caldecott here." Once again, he watches Rylie carefully, while keeping the Doctor within his peripheral vision for any sudden movements. Tilly's in handcuffs. This Abrams says she doesn't know Zan, he reports back to his partner for the mission.

"Treason and espionage. With what are you coming up with that ridiculous claim? That my dress is red? What could you possibly have against me Patrick?" Though she doesn't resist, instead looking around for Nobara. And success, she see's him. Amelia. Mentally yelling out to her company friend. Tell Nobara to fucking back me up instead of watching the guy fucking assault me would you? She knows her friend is there. "And what department are you from?"

Zan's head comes up sharply, to look at both Rylie and the Doc. While the goings on around him are registered by sound, or lack thereof, on some level, his attention remains on the situation in front of him. While Finn might not be terribly worried, the younger man himself is on the verge of acting. Playing it cool has never been his forte. His feet shift, shuffling slightly, but he manages to muster a half grin, full of nerves and worry. He even offers his own hand to the girl, along with a more familiar and quieter, "Hey, Rylie."

Paul has an excuse to look flustered, at least. First the girl is backing him up against a wall - which could be good - and then she's /pointing a gun at him/ and backing him up against a wall, which is most definitely not. Why (or how) Amelia is bailing him out, he doesn't know, but he's not about to complain about it either. "Are we going to be gone long?" he does ask, though, even as he follows along. He does still have his own agenda to worry about.

We've all got trouble. There's a lot of people with not-good thoughts around here. Grab the kids and get to the portal. She can be coy later. I'll round up the stragglers. Amelia talks just to Finn at first, but in a moment, she adds Tilly in, too, as she tacks on, I am in the middle of a conversation, Till. Rude. She's teasing. That she still can must be a good sign, right?

To Paul, Amelia just laughs a bit, and her hand tightens around his arm. "Follow close. Don't make noise and we might just make it out of this alive and not stuck in the past. And don't play dumb, because I know what you are. And so do they." If that isn't enough to get him moving, she drags him along as she slinks along down a back corridor.

"You were reported. With convincing evidence of your time here. And your arrival here. And my department is the kind that can shove you in a dark hole if you don't shut up." Around Patrick, people are starting to push toward exits. Naturally, they push toward the public exits, trying to get out before fingers get pointed or before anyone can remember that they were standing close to a spy. The red scare is still fresh in the mind.

Rylie looks over at Zan with a furrow of her brow, for a moment, she's trying to place him, and she looks apologetic when she can't. "Mister Caldecott. It's… confusing to meet you. I'm sorry, we've met?" she sounds like Rylie, and yet, not at all like Rylie. Some subdued version of her, like someone turned her saturation levels down.

Conversation is cut short, though, all around.

Nobara collects his own set of problems as a hand comes up behind him and covers his mouth while a think arm wraps around his chest and pulls him back. It's all painful, this isn't someone trying to help him get out, this is someone taking him out. And as a figure steps in front of him with a gun pointed his way, it's make crystal clear.

At the same time, a figure appears in front of Paul and Amelia, and one behind, with guns of their own.

And the Doctor grabs hold of Rylie's wrist as he pulls his own gun out of its holster, pointing it not toward Zan or Finn, but at Rylie. Hers is the first of many screams as guns seem to suddenly appear everywhere. Worried exits become panicked rushes, people get trampled underfoot, shoved, knocked out; all in the spirit of survival.

Tilly won't be able to see Nobara for long. He slips behind a taller man, and does not reappear in the next space over. One hand curls up to fix the opposite cuff, fingers slipping inside. It is then that the arm wraps around the front of his chest, and the hot palm crosses over his face, smothering over his mouth. This puts a right big cog in his previous plans- evident by the golf ball sized globule between one set of fingers, pulled from the sleeve he was digging around in.

Seems that he was about to plant it- but at this point, he can't do much except clutch it into his fist, stifling the magenta hues and trying to keep it away from attentions.

Rather than writhe in the grasp of the bigger man, Nobara falls back against whoever it is, shoulders taut, nostrils flaring, and dark eyes alert. His hat is gone by now, so the sheen of black hair and eyes gives him away immediately as a person of interest, at least for the clubgoers now spilling out of the place.

He is, however, more concerned about the live explosive in his fist, than whoever thinks he is some sort of …communist plant.

Hell in a handbasket is Finn's summation in a nutshell, as he begins to move in front of Zan, blocking him with his shoulder to keep him from lurching forward. His hands come up, empty and in a surrendering gesture.

"Whoa, there, Doc," he begins, gesturing a little with his left hand. "Let's talk about this, all right? You don't want to hurt Rylie here. We don't want you to hurt Rylie here. Rylie doesn't want you to hurt Rylie. We're all on the same side, see? I think we can all go somewhere and…"

As he speaks, keeping eye contact with the man the entire time, there is no change in his posture until suddenly one leg kicks up, wing tip aimed to chop the man's arm upward — so that if the gun accidentally goes off, it will be at the ceiling, not Rylie — and if that works, he'll follow it with a lunging for both Doc and the gun.

'…talk about it' never leaves his mouth.

"Nobody tells me to shut up but Amelia smartass" And with that, she's casting out again, a smile on her face as people are stampeding for exits. Where before there was nothing, there is now a buffet of wounds and she casts out her ability still she finds something perfect.

In a split second, someone in the crows is less a severely broken arm. And Tilly's arresting agent can feel the snap, the splitting of skin and immense pain that comes with the open fracture of his right arm that occurs from out of nowhere.

"Light it up Nobara!" Tilly yells, hoping that her companion is in a place to comply while she tries to take advantage of her own captor and his changed circumstance to plant a heel to groin.

It would have been a lunge, not a lurch. But blocked as he might be, Zan opts to turn away from confrontation. Of course, he thrusts an arm out to wrap around Rylie's waist and get himself between her and the Doc and the Doc's gun. From the casual observer, he and Finn could have coordinated such an effort rather than either move be the object of impulse and instinct. He doesn't just stop there, but keeps his hold on the girl, trying to bodily pry her out of the situation, and keep moving. Interestingly enough, he's heading for the same exit Amelia disappeared through.

There's no time for Paul to think (or more likely overthink) the issue, not when there are more people with guns out. Who knows what they want, or how trigger-happy they are? Ill equipped for Finn's physical style of response, he opts to play on his own adrenaline-fueled fear instead, projecting it blindly toward friend and foe alike. « Run for it! »

Finding his arm suddenly broken gives Tilly just the right distraction to get the upper hand. And not only is his arm broken, but there's a heel in a place there should just never be a heel. Patrick falls to a knee, good arm holding onto the edge of the table instead of Tilly. She still has the cuffs on, but at least she can move now. And it looks like Nobara might need some help, as that hand on his face tightens, making it difficult to breathe as the man starts dragging him back toward a back hallway.

Finn kicks, the gun fires over head, Rylie gets yanked away as Finn tries to get the gun out of the man's hand. Rylie stares toward where the Doctor and Finn struggle, but she herself doesn't struggle against the arm around her. Mostly because she seems to be too shocked to do anything but use Zan as a sort of crutch.

But the Doctor ends up in a lock with Finn, working hard to keep the gun away from the other man. It's clear that the Company Agent has the upper hand, strength wise, and the Doctor must know that, too, because he goes in for a headbutt, rather than staying locked in a losing battle. It hurts, and gives Doc enough time to bring his knee into Finn's gut. But after that, he tries to get away. However, he opts to run toward where Zan is leading Rylie.

Amelia feels the rush of fear as well as the two gunmen do. There are two responses to fear, of course, and none of the people in this little hall seem to have the flight instinct. Amelia's gun fires, echoing through the hall and the large room beyond, but luckily, it's not toward Paul. She takes one out, and while she's turning toward the second, he fires as well, a moment or two behind the first shot. When Amelia's hit, Paul gets a buzz of white noise to the brain, it starts as a fuzz, but grows quickly into a piercing shriek. A fire alarm to the mind. Their little friend must feel it, too, because he falls against the wall, but that doesn't stop his next shot hitting Paul in the leg.

Knowing your options is the most important thing, when it comes to close combat. While fighting back directly is out of the question- his martial arts do no good against the second man with a gun- Tilly's yell does not no unheard, even between the pounding of blood in his ears. He's angry, more than he is afraid, until Paul's influence gets him. From there, it is stark panic in his eyes. His fist draws upwards at the elbow, but instead of trying to elbow into his personal gorilla, his fingers splay open like a flower.

It becomes hard to not notice the brightly pulsating object lazily rolling about on his palm, casting magenta onto clothes and skin. It roams up the curve of his thumb, down across his fingers, and bounces down onto the floor, rolling directly underneath of the gunman to his front.


It explodes in a mighty little roar, blasting concussive force upwards and outwards from below.

Finnegan's going to have a hell of a headache, and Nobara's brand of self defense isn't helping. "Get her outta here," he yells unnecessarily to Zan, who is doing just that by the time the Virginian is able to get to his feet. He gives chase to the Doctor, the man's gun in one hand and pulling his tranq gun out of his coat with the other. He doesn't want to cause any paradoxes, but he's pretty sure this party didn't go down like this the first time 1955 rolled around.

"Yo Doc," he calls. "Feeling sleepy?" Getting a bead on the doctor, he lets fly one of the little darts, opting to shoot with the tranquilizer gun rather than the firearm. There are answers to be had, after all.

Paul may be shot, but not for long. With her own captor down, an arm wound that at this point in time will be a difficult one to ever really recover from, the blonde is wielding her ability again, pulling her fingers in like a ball as Pauls wound is yanked from him, sealing back up just as quickly as it blossomed and sparing the Empath from long weeks and maybe months of intensive rehabilitation.

With a pitching of her hand, it's thrown metaphysically to the one of the other agents who have materialized at the shindig. Invisible bullet blossoming beneath pristine cloth, as if that agent had been shot in the leg instead of Paul. Tilly flags a little in spot, knee's wobbling. "Get out of here!" To her compatriots. "Run back!"

He doesn't have to be told to keep running. Zan more carries Rylie than lets her run, keeping a tight grip around her as he flees. Or homes in on Amelia. As he runs like all hell has broken loose behind him, anything he can reach with a hand is thrown backward without looking or slowing. Like a claw sweeping out, a chair or waste bin is swiped and tossed and dropped and pushed behind to make the Doc's chase a little more difficult.

Well, crap. And that was one of Paul's favorite legs, too! Instinctively, he doubles over, about to collapse to the ground and hopefully get out of the line of fire that way— and then the pain cuts out, just as abruptly as it spiked up in the first place. Not stopping to question this moment of good fortune, he simply runs flat-out, steeling himself to shoulder people out of the way if it comes to it.

Chaos. The man dragging Nobara goes down as he's suddenly shot in the leg without bullet or gun shot. He gives up then, attempting to make a break for it. Of course, there's this explosion that takes out his partner, but not only that. Maybe the fear hitched it up, or maybe it just hit right but a chunk of the nearby wall gets caught in the blast. It comes down, but not just there. Debris falls around Nobara and beyond him over Tilly, striking her in the head and concealing her from view.

The Doctor gets shot, too, less fatally of course. The drugs cause him to stumble, and then fall as the explosion rocks the ballroom. Luckily, they're far enough away from the damage, but they can see it crumble on that other end. Whatever Finn has in mind, there's something else that's peeking in. Just a small voice.

Finny, Amelia's mental voice is tired, and after the message, he feels the familiar withdraw as she steps out of his mind. So to speak. Instead, she focuses on Paul, whatever strength she has left giving him the undeniable urge to run for the portal. He's just the first to stumble through the costume closet and back toward 2012, but he won't be the last.

Zan and Rylie run past two people bleeding out of their noses, but it's just best not to think about that too much. Zan can probably hear the worried gasp as the Doctor goes down, but again, there's something more important. The closet door stands open when it comes into view. You know, past that guy who got shot through the heart (and you're to blame!). It explains all the blood back here.

"Amelia!" shouts Finnegan, when he feels the presence fade. The doctor's falling and Finnegan catches him, pulling him swiftly into a fireman's carry as he continues forward — the benefit of this is he can use the man as a shield if he needs to. His eyes skim the ballroom as rubble falls, the rising dust making it difficult to see. "Minawa! Marshal! Get out of here!" he shouts, though he stumbles forward down the hall in search of the portal, his charges, and his mission partner.

"Go, go, go!" he shouts to Zan and Rylie as he comes upon the door, the flicker of air letting him know the portal is active. Shoving the unconscious doctor through first, he looks frantic in search of the other agents. "Who else came this way? Never mind — go!" he shouts again, before turning back to apparently go back to the ballroom.

Nobara elbows the man behind him below the ribcage as he loosens his grip. It's a sharp, trained move, intended to inflict that maximum hurt before the other man gets away completely. It's much like trying to let go of a porcupine without getting needled.

One foot forward, Nobara seems to teeter there for just a moment, surveying the damage done by his bomb before pushing forward. That was - not what he was intending to do. But if he is going to be in this mess, so will everyone else. The wind-up, and the pitch from across the ballrom. A second charge flickers to life in his hand, careening for the front door; it hits the top of the doorway and detonates on impact, intent on crippling the entrance.

To his credit, Nobara is swift, even if he lacks the bullishness of Finnegan. The younger man sets upon the first pile of rubble where Tilly was caught, tossing chunks things this way and that, watching over his shoulders for any …oncoming antagonists. If he sees one coming, well, they're going to get a …gutful, to say the least.

"Fuck off" This from the rubble that Nobara is trying to shift through. "Get your fucking ass through the hole Minawa" Tilly cna barely be seen, but is there, pinned under rubble that will be far too heavy for Nobara or his bombs to deal with. "I'll be right behind you Nobby. Tell em to keep Reggie at the hole, and to not leave his wrappers around. Got it?" The blonde in the now ripped red dress is pointing towards where Finn and company have hightailed it to. "Go. That is an order Minawa"

The running stops when the closet comes into sight. Though only for a second, some errant thought about a bull in a china shop crossing his mind. "Finnegan," he calls back over his shoulder just as he starts for the portal in earnest. Making good his promise to get out of dodge with something far more important than work and toys he can replace. "Save my bag, or destroy it if you can!" He can only hope the older man retrieves it, a little faith for the agents who fueled his ire for the last few days. Steps turn to running again as he propels himself and Rylie for the portal that'll take them home again.

Destruction is rife. It gives them all a moment of privacy, although, Amelia probably doesn't appreciate it much, what with the debris in her open wound. But then, she's in too much pain to yell at him, so he's safe. For now. But she is trying to pull herself up to her feet, a bloody, dusty hand on the closet doorknob. She doesn't want to get stuck here, but her progress is… inching.

What Nobara spies when he glances behind is not troops, guns or flashing lights. It's a single, solitary canister. It drops in from a hole above, tinks to the ground in the least threatening noise ever, sits for a moment… and then starts to pour out a white fog, shooting out either end. And behind it, several more tink down to the ruined ballroom.

Finn doesn't get too far when he hears Amelia's breathing and inching. Stopping and turning back, he sees her, bloody and dusty as she is, and he hurries back to swoop her up. "Get through! I don't know how long it's open!" he shouts to Zan and Rylie, before looking back to Amelia.

"Don't you fucking even think of dying on me, Sassypants. Gonna get you through and then I'll go find Tilly and she'll take care of it, all right? Don't worry about a thing, sweetheart. Just don't fucking even think of dying on me," he urges, words frantic and earnest and a bit manic as he moves toward the closet, wildly looking over his shoulder.

"Minawa! Marshal! Where are you?" the agent hollers back, stumbling for the closet.

"'M sorry, Till. You told me to let it go." And now she's stuck here, where Nobara can't get at her. "I'll come back for you." Where promises are concerned, she knows he'll do his best. When Nobara stands away from the rubble, is when the canister comes tinkling down. Knowing a thing or two about innocuous objects, Nobara backpedals before he can even tell, precisely, what it is. Something- things, soon- that he needs to get away from. He turns, and hightails it towards the back. Finn gets an earful.

"Tilly told me to book it, Finn — " Redalert! Tilly is the senior agent, stuck under pieces of ceiling or not. "And — gas canisters coming in through the ceiling." He seconds, as if he isn't certain of what he's saying. Basically.. turn your ass back around.

Pulling Rylie against his chest, Zan makes the awkward climb through the portal as he's chased by Finn's urging. "Almost home," he says aloud, as much for his comfort as to hopefully jog something in his girlfriend's memory. "Get out, get to the house, call my dad." It's all practically whispered, a rundown of short term goals. As a last measure, to make sure they clear the hole in the wall, he indulges in a little burst of flight to see him finally back into the sitting room of the old, dilapidated house.

It's only a little while after he makes it back through to the present - his original present - that Paul has time to mentally register that he's done so. Is this the same place he went in? It looks like it. So why does one end connect to the club, and the other to another club a couple thousand miles— No, you know what? He'll worry about that later. Right now, he takes a couple more steps and just staggers down onto his knees, waiting for everything and everyone else to stop moving for a minute before he'll get up again.

"Funny— I've been waiting for you to…" Amelia says with a shudder and a cough, "…sweep me off my feet." She can still joke, even if she can't manage the tone. But instead of carrying on, her hand wraps around the fabric of his shirt. It's not a strong grip by any means, but it lingers even when her eyes close and she hangs heavier in his arms.

But one by one, they make it through the hole in time, save the one left behind in the gas that starts to seep into the costume closet. It even follows Finn and Amelia as they make their way through. It's tough business, as the portal is smaller than is really comfortable. Hands on the other side help them through, giving Finn a yank to make sure he's through before it slides shut behind them. It takes a moment before it settles in that there are more bodies there than their should be. But with Amelia's state being what it is, the time travelers are jostled around to make room for her, but each one is seen to in turn before anyone is allowed to go home.

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