Giselle Lacourt

Name:

Giselle Lacourt

Occupation:

Performer/Secret Agent

Place of Birth:

Marseilles, France.

Current Residence:

Paris, France.

Appearance:

Voluptuous. Fair of skin and with long, red hair.

Childhood:

Mother was a whore in Marseilles who died while Giselle was still a child. Brought up in an orphanage. Her own life was one of petty crime and prostitution until she discovered her talent for singing.

Education:

Rudimentary: reading, writing and arithmetic while at the orphanage.

Virtue:

Powerful and emotive singing voice.

Vice:

A tendency for overly-emotional outbursts.

Style:

Ostentatious and daring.

Personality:

Slightly outrageous.

Likes:

Recognition.

Dislikes:

Being reminded of her childhood

Most valued principle:

Money and easy living.

Most treasured possession:

Most valued person:

Herself.

Nemesis:

Pierre Dubreton, her former pimp.

Alliances:

The French Secret Service.

Romantic Life:

Much gossiped about in the Parisian arts press.

Social Goal:

To achieve respect within New Europan society.

Professional Goal:

To perform before royalty.

Romantic Goal:

To marry a rich and titled man.

Abilities:

Great - Performance Good - Athletics , Charisma , Social Graces , Stealth , Tinkering Poor - Connections , Education

Action most regretted:

Working as a prostitute.

Proudest moment:

Hits :

5

Damage Taken:

The Memoirs of Giselle Lacourt

I was born in Marseilles, France. My mother sold herself down on the docks for a living, which is how I came to be. She died while I was still a child. I was brought up in an orphanage. When I grew too old for the orphanage, about eleven years, I too worked on the docks. Sometimes I steal. My only 'friend' was Pierre Dubreton, a former seaman now a drunk who found work for me and occasionally used me himself. Then a traveller from Paris asked me to sing for him while I entertained him in other ways. It was an unusual request, but he was paying good money and I obliged. He liked my voice, and offered me a new life in the bars of Paris. That is enough about my former life.

The man who brought me to Paris, Alain Levadieu, owned a bar in Montmartre. La Chat Noire was not famous, and the patrons were more interested in getting drunk than in listening to a singer. Yet I enjoyed working there. I like singing, it is far easier than the work I had performed in Marseilles; and I was in Paris.

As might be expected, Alain was my lover as well as my manager; though he was never my only partner, nor I his. The wage that I received for performing each night was small. But from time to time the bar would be visited by young aristocrats taking a walk on the wilder side of Paris. I was able to supplement my income performing privately for them although it was never my singing that they wished to hear. It was perhaps a foolish thought, but I hoped that one of these gentlemen might ask me to marry him, and my fortune would be assured.

My hopes for the future were dashed when Pierre reappeared in my life. Angry at my abrupt disappearance from the streets of Marseilles, he came looking for me. Somehow he learned that I was singing at La Chat Noire and that night he waited outside the door. As I left the bar on Alain's arm he made his presence known. My lover tried to protect me, but fell with a blade in his chest. Only the intervention of a group of drunken patrons allowed me to escape Pierre's anger. I fled into the backstreets, spending the night sleeping under a bridge down by the river, and was found the following morning by a gendarme. My story to the police forced Pierre into hiding, but Paris is a large city and he was not caught.

With the death of Alain, I thought that my life in Paris was over; but I soon found another manager who had heard me perform at La Chat Noire. Gaston Mineau was a good publicist and had many contacts both in the bars of Paris and the music hall. Not only did he promote my career as a performer, he was also able to provide protection in case Pierre tried to harm me again.

Over the months that followed, as I performed before a wider audience, my popularity grew. Soon crowds were flocking to whatever venue I might be at just to hear me sing. I enjoyed the recognition and fame, but it brought danger as well. It made me easy for Pierre to find. Several times now he has tried to kill me, and though I have been lucky so far he has always escaped. I know that he will pursue me until either I or he is dead.

When Gaston organised a tour of New Europa I was thrilled at escaping from Paris. Perhaps Pierre would be unable to find me outside of France. The evening before I embarked on my grand tour, I was visited by a Monsieur Aramis of the French Secret Service. He suggested that I could be a secret agent for France. Men talk freely in bed, and if I was to entertain foreign military officers and statesmen (who would certainly come to hear me sing, and naturally wish for my company after the performance) they could surely be persuaded to reveal secrets of value to France. In return, he assured me, he would hunt down Pierre and free me from my nemesis.

The tour ensured that my talent became known among the higher circles of New Europan society, and I no longer sing to bars of drunks. Once I returned to Paris, I had top billing at the best music halls in the city. It was the wealthy and the bourgeoisie who came to listen when I performed.

Our host, Sir Sebastian was such a one. In fact, he attended my show several nights in succession until I accepted his invitation to dine with him afterwards. I knew already that he had a certain reputation among the social élite of New Europa, and he was a charming and amiable gentleman. I had always intended to accept his request, but I have learned over the years that men are always more grateful for acceptance if they are forced to plead. However, Monsieur Aramis recommended that I should become close to the English gentleman, who he suspected of being a secret agent in the employ of the British government. We spent several pleasant weeks in each other's company, during which time I learned nothing to confirm or deny Monsieur Aramis' suspicions. Then, one night, Sir Sebastian disappeared from France without any word of explanation or even goodbye.

Later I did receive a most apologetic note, explaining that he had been called away suddenly on a private, family matter. Now I have this invitation to join him in Egypt (where I know they are currently building a fine opera house) and Monsieur Aramis has again suggested that I accept.