Return of the King

The Bazaar 
 * Bustling. That one word describes this large and crowded open area that covers very nearly the entire length and width of the ruined skyscraper, and dull concrete and steel walls rise seventy-five feet above the floor. A thick web of catwalks and ramps begin around twenty feet up the walls, making it nearly impossible to see the ceiling from the floor. The lighting is dim, the only source of illumination being the bewildering array of luminescent signs that indicate an equally bewildering number of shops and stalls, many of them set into the walls above the floor and serviced only by ramps and walkways.
 * An amazing variety of trinkets, foodstuffs, and other small and generally cheap items are available from the vendors on the floor and the first few levels of walkways. As one moves higher up along the walls, the shops begin to get seedier. The top level of walkways and the vendors on it deal mainly in goods anywhere else would consider illicit. From the top level of catwalks, stairways lead up to the section of the Warren known as Level One.
 * A gaudy sky-blue sign over a doorframe on the floor proclaims 'The Expanse - Bar and Casino'. Bright blue-white light spills from the entrance.

A pair of holoemitter orbs whir into the bazaar, descending in a slow spiral dance around each other from the rafters above.

Boomer, dressed out in his modified Hail the King, Bitch!!! sign looks up at the spiraling holoemitters. "Hey, the fuck are those?" He squints, trying to discern exactly what he's looking at.

Rillitan watches as Seth takes the hand from his own shotgun before nodding and letting go of his shotgun before looking up, he looks at Lucius before motioning up, "Same question." he says after Boomer.

Were amusement palpable, Fantome would be coated in it. As it is, the gloom of his shaded face lights with silver crackles of lightning that quickly fade away. He, like so many in the crowd, glances up towards the holoemitters.

The figure in missionary garb pauses to look up at the holoemitter orbs, momentarily fascinated by their movement.

There's something large and odorific that lumbers past Noz, and he glances up. Smirking around the cigarillo, Noz starts to follow after Trugkar at a distance of several paces.

Lucius's ice blue eyes shift to the inevitable stench which Trugkar emits, smirking at the big figure. "The Boss's outta town for the weekend. I'm runnin' the show." He lowers his pistol and slips it into the holster. As he glances upwards with the others, the Martian pops a piece of gum in his mouth. "Won't be necessary, Connely. Keep doing what you do best." He says into his comm. Then adds, "Oh, and Pete? Don't let me catch you calling me Lucky again." His smirk gives way to a bigger grin. "Heller, stay on the Timonae," Pete mutters quietly. "You're his new shadow. Kinear, I want your attention on those orbs." The kid's own eyes float up to the orbs in question, brow furrowed. "What the fuck is that shit?" he addresses to his radio. "In the sky."

Trugkar's eye membranes nicitate as he bobs a snout to Lucius, then looks up. "Stupid floaty whirries."

Gregorius looks around the bazaar some more and notices the wholoemitters and the big man wearing an..interesting sign. He mutters under his breath. "Great. Just great. The eberscheite will hit the fan for sure!" Out loud to Lucius: "Oh. Well, that's ok by me."

The holoemitter orbs get to about twenty feet above the floor of the bazaar and then spread about ten feet apart, continuing to move in a languid orbit around each other. Their emitter arrays glow brightly and collaborate to create a rectangular holodisplay image in the air below them. "Oh, Blackpatch, why must you be such a scoundrel?" bemoans a female Demarian as she clings to her scruffy male Demarian companion. "I want to trust you. I want to love you. But you make it so hard." The scruffy male companion bares his teeth in a feral sort of grin and growls: "It is not me, Heavechest, that makes *anything* hard." And then the image freezes ... just before a body plunges from the rafters above, passes between the whirring orbs, briefly disrupts the stilled image and then slams against the floor, face down.

Boomer sniffs, face breaking out into a disgusted grimace, throwing Trugkar an annoyed glance, before looking back up at the Holoemitters began to play what appears to be a Demarian drama. "Man, what the fuck is this shit?" The falling body is just a fly at first, but the sudden impact of flesh hitting floor draws his attention with a start, hand clenching around his gun's handle.

Rillitan eyes the sky as the display ends rather oddly. He raises an eyebrow before looking at the body and scratching a chin. "There's a certain level of creativity in these killing that scares me." he mumbles, adding two and two. "Who wants to go check if it explodes..?"

Fantome tilts his head back to as to better observe the orbs. His mouth twitches at the Demarian soap opera on display, to be replaced by a silent flash of light as the image is pierced by the descent of the corpse. "SHishhiSH chufffff cusshhH SrreimM SHishhiSH hrunth ssssiiiss" he hisses.

"Oh dear." Noz's expression falls as soon as he sees the Demarians on the screen. "Now is not the time to return to the labor market, it seems." Stepping cautiously back into the shadows as the corpse lands in the midst of the bazaar, Noz seems content, like Rillitan, to let someone /else/ examine the corpse."

Trugkar cracks his knuckles absently as he watches the display. "Hur. Stupid tall glowy back."

Peter watches in confusion as the crappy Demarian drama invades his office... then swears like only a mick can, dropping to a crouch and swinging the assault rifle from behind his back as the body makes impact. "Unusual," he tensely tells his radio. "What the fuck just happened here?"

Seth looks up at the holoemitters for a moment as he exhales smoke from his cigariette. "Ta shi suo you di yu de biao zi de ma.." the teen comments though what the comment means or what it's drected at is unclear. The falling body catches the teen's attention next and hes up and heading towards it a rather sick looking grin on his face. "Ta ma de... serioucly cool... wonder if it went crunch when it hit...."

"Why do they always have to muck up our pretty little floor?" Mutters Lucius to himself, attention snapping to the descent of the corpse and the place where it falls. A little Castori is able to just barely get himself out of the way of the falling weight; very close to being crushed by a corpse. And imagine how humiliating that would have been! On his comms, he orders quickly, "Get Fireteam Two up to the top level. I want to know where that body came from." A glance is shot at Trugkar, eyebrow raising up. "Who's the lightbulb, this time?"

For those looking at it, the body appears to be that of a seven-foot-tall bipedal being with spiky silver hair, head wrapped in a crimson scarf that covers the eyes and nose. The corpse is wearing a glittery long-sleeve tunic, tight black pants and one black leather boot - the left foot is bare, the skin pale white but bruised. Blood oozes from a wound in the corpse's neck. A sign on his back read: HAIL TO THE KING.

"Hail the King, bitch." Boomer saids with a shake of his head. "Someone needed a boot, obviously.

Trugkar tilts his head at Lucius, as if confused that it isn't glaringly obvious to the Martian. "Glowyboss," he replies simply, then shakes his scaly head. "Stupid softskin."

Gregorius smirks as he notices the Demarian drama. "Yeah, soap operas, just what this city needs right now." And then the falling corpse interrupts the Drama. Martinus sez in response to that: "Another thing Tomin Kora needs; falling dead people. Well, an average day here, for sure." Martinus sneers after he says this. He examines the body and keeps the sneer on his face. "Yeah, hail to the king, baby! Wish I knew who the hells this king is, uh?"

Rillitan edges a little closer to a corpse that has just fallen from the upper areas. He raises an eyebrow before turning, "Volari." he clarifies quietly for Lucius and Trugkar before shaking his head, "Amazing really.. he even managed to guess what side he'd land on." indicating the sign. He smirks.

Mazzonnoz narrows his eyes at the corpse. "Could it -? No, not at all possible ..." Noz approaches the dead Vollistan, hoping to get a better look at the face of the deceased.

Seth crouches at the body and lifts up the head a bit so he can examine the kneck wound tilting his head to one side as he does

Andreo confidently strides in from the main enterance, adjusting his tie a little as he does, but with how he's looking around, it may seem he's not quite a confident as the stride may suggest.

The neck wound appears to be a horizontal slash from one side to the other, severing the carotid artery. The masked Vollistan did most of his bleeding somewhere else, apparently.

Boomer quirks a brow. "So, the fucker finally got it. Good for him." Boomer saids, looking down at the corpse. "Now that I think about it... it does look alittle like that fag." "Trug, you're gonna have to be a little more clear. What's glowyboss's name?" Lucius asks, tone even and controlled as he talks to the smelly Zangali. There's something to be said about the art of subtlety when talking to someone who could rip your head off with a swipe of the claw. "Oh.. So that's Volari? Hah, nice. Ordinarily I'd bitch about a corpse here, but he's famous! Which means, by proxy, that we're famous." There are enough people approaching the corpse. "Maybe we should bring the Specialist up to stow this guy in the morgue or somethin?"

Crick, appalled by the violence he sees, bows his head and murmurs a silent prayer.

Fantome is only marginally interested in the corpse, until the apparent fact that it is a Vollistan reaches his ear. ""'How now? A rat! Dead, for a ducat, dead,'" he says with something akin to a mirthful lilt to his tone of voice. "'Though this be madness, yet there is method in 't.'"

Mazzonnoz pulls his cigarillo out of his mouth, flicks the ash away, and crouches next to the downed Vollistan. Letting out a plume of bluish smoke from one corner of his mouth, he rolls the corpse over onto its back with a boot, and crouches to daintily remove enough of the scarf to expose the corpse's face.

"Fuck, I wannabe famous," Pete mutters, walking up onto the scene. He pokes at the dead Vollistan with a booted toe. "The fuck you doing dying here anyway, asshole? Clean yourself up." He lights himself a cigarette, staring moodily at the corpse. "What's the plan, Lucky?"

Removal of the scarf exposes the lifeless face that would be familiar enough to anyone who had watched holovids of Volari in the past few years - although the nose and other facial bones are understandably shattered and sunken-looking.

Jared comes into the Bazaar only to see the crowd gathered about the Vollistan corpse. His gaze lingers for a moment before he picks out a Timonae amongst the crowd. He begins making his way towards Rillistan.

Boomer glances over at Fantome, snorting. Then he looks back to Volari, wincing in almost sympathy. "Fuck ouch. Looks like a god damn Zangali raped his fuckin' nose."

Lucius's eyes narrow at Peter. He turns to face the man and frowns, shaking his head. "I thought I told you /not/ to call me that? Anyways, now's not the time for that. Get his body downstairs.. Get Heller and Kinear to do it, or something, but I want it out of sight and on ice. Clear?" He snickers at Boomer's comments. "Not one for subtlety, ein?" A grin.

Gregorius snickers at Lucius and amends jokingly: "Isn't that *inffamous* you're thinking of?" Then Martinus gets a good luck at Volari. "So, this was Volari, uh? well, this couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. Shame he wasn't injected with that fucking virus of his. Still, it's justice of sorts. Burn in hells!", Martinus addresses the body.

The holoemitter orbs switch off their arrays, making the frozen Demarian image vanish, and then they start a slow orbiting ascent toward the rafters.

With a jerk that parallels the suddenness of the smile on Fantome's face, he raises his gloved hands and begins to applaud. Clap; Clap; Clap, he goes, growing more forceful after a while.

On his comm, Lucius adds, "Is Fireteam Two up there? I want you guys to see if you can't ascertain where those holoemitters are going." Then he looks at the corpse again and gets down into a crouch, arms moving up and down the body to frisk it before it's taken away.

Seth is still at the corpses head himslef and what the gangly teen does next is somewhat well... gross he sticks a black nailed finger into the wound and traces across it, "Right handed." He seems to assess then pulls his finger out of the gash and licks it as though assessing the flavour will give nim further information. Then he prods at the smashed face and shuckles gleefully. "Look. It pops in and out if you press here."

"Heller, stick to your schoolwork. Kinear, grab a battle buddy and get this fucking mess downstairs and iced -right now-," Pete again talks to his radio. He points up, cocking his head at the holoemitters. "What the fuck are those about, anyway?"

Rillitan narrows his eyes, "How.. I don't see how.." he shakes his head before looking at Jared with a nod towards the body, "It's.." he sniffs unhappily, "Woulda wanted to take him myself.. this is a slight too... uh... this is not how I saw it happening.. not at all.."

Crick casts a disapproving glance at Fantome. He does not join in the applause.

Not one to miss out on a crowd, Andreo begins to head over towards the one gathered around to body to see what's up. He frowns a little bit at the subject of the attention becomes apparent.

At the top of the ravaged skyscraper, the fire teams see the holoemitter orbs emerge from a crack in the roof and continue a swirling ascent toward a waiting ... dirigible. A big helium-filled cigar-shaped silver gasbag with a matte black gondola with matte black windows. A panel slides open in the belly of the gondola to allow the orbs to enter. Then the panel slides shut.

Jared nods his head slightly to Rillitan, then to the body, "Yeah.. almost seems a little too good to be true." He says with a little shrug.

Fantome is still smiling when he stops applauding, the white of his teeth standing out in the gloom by catching some of the neon light that lights most of thhe bazaar. "'When beggars die there are no comets seen; The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes,'" he says, and bows to no-one in particular as he adds, "Hail to the Once and Future King."

Mazzonnoz steps back, flicking more ash from his cigarillo and looking down at the mutilated corpse. "He died as he lived," Noz eulogizes, tilting his chin upwards at the dirigible. "With a taste for the dramatic."

"Definately something funky here." Mutters Lucius into his comm, hopefully inaudible to the rest of the spectators here. Raising his hands and approaching the spot where the men begin to heft the corpse towards the staff elevator, Lucius says now, much louder. "Alright, nothing to see. Someone wanted to show some theatre. Touching. Get on with your business, please." From upstairs, something chatters in his earpiece. A frown. "Alright. Keep watching but let 'em go.. not like we can do anything, anyways."

Rillitan looks up as the orbs make an exit and shakes his head, "I'd give my balls to follow those there.." he then looks to Mazzonnoz before shaking his head, and backing closer to Jared, "So. You enjoying the atmosphere here, right?"

Boomer shakes his head, not noticing the holoemitters retreat, turning away from Volari's corpse to study a nearby neon sign, lights breaking into shadows over his round face. "Another fuckin' day in the ole' mother fuckin' galaxy."

Bright beacon lights click on from the belly of the dirigible, casting shafts of icy blue at angles through the shadowy belly of the building that holds the Warren.

Jared glances up skyward before looking back to Rillitan, "Yeah, it's just lovely here." He says with a little chuckle.

"Ah." Fantome folds his hands behind his back as he looks up. "The encore." He is callously unperturbed by the end of Volari, even though he was a fellow Light Singer.

Peter turns to Lucius, holding his assault rifle at the low ready. "If you've got that, I'll stay here with a team and make sure shit stays copacetic." Looking around the Bazaar, he turns he clicks the trigger on his radio yet again. "I want Fire Team Five in ready positions around the Bazaar floor. Connelly out."

Boomer turns to watch the going on with a hint of wariness.

Seth watches the way the corpse flops when it's picked up and takes a moment to arrange it like christ on the cross. "Can I have the skin?" He asks Lucius then his attention flicks to Rilitan for a moment and he smiles wickedly. "Oh, I'll have to arrange that for you sometime... sure you might bleed to death..." Finally his attention is drawn to the lights from the dirigible.

In a gesture of respect for the dead, however heinous, Crick removes his frock coat and tosses it over Volari's head as he is carried away. If nothing else, it will save the minister from having to look at Volari's mutilated face.

Gregorius snorts and says: "That's putting it mildly. Theatre. Don't know if it's a comedy or a tragedy though." Martinus glances up as the dirigible's lights spear down at the bazaar. He puts his hand over his eyes to minimize the glare.

Loudspeakers crackle to life on the port and starboard sides of the gondola. A man's voice speaks, amplified so that block after block of true believers might think the rumbling noise the words of God himself. But Tomin Kora isn't exactly known for its churching. Still ... "It's who you motherfuckers think it is. Get the DNA checked, if you like. Just think of him as my gift to you. And a warning. The king's back, baby. Don't fucking piss me off." The speakers switch off. The lights on the belly of the dirigible fade. Slowly, the craft rotates above the skyscraper and prepares to drift away.

Trugkar's slit pupils narrow to adjust to the light change. He grumbles and reaches for his rifle but stops as the dirigible retreats. "Stupid floaty shippy."

Andreo's eyes go skyward with everyone else's. "Son of a bitch," he mutters to himself after the voice's announcement.

For a moment, Lucius squints at the new display of lights, silent. But silence for Lucius is as unlikely as a normal, undisturbed comment from Seth. "On second thought.. Get three to set up the Nest and four on the top level." He says, turning and nodding at Peter. "Yeah. We'll keep One in reserve." He slings his rifle over his shoulder and gets it at the ready, not clicking the safety off just yet. His teeth grind in recognition of the voice, however suspected it had been for the past week. "Why can't he just stay caput?"

"The fuck?" Boomer mutters. "Richard is taken' over Tomin Kora? Fuckin' Sivadians always fuckin' taken everything, god damn tea sippers." Boomer's smirk suggest he knows better. "Well, now that Volari's got raped, and the message is delivered, I'm gonna go get fucked outside my mind and pants." With that, the man starts walking toward the Warren proper.

Peter watches and listens with narrowed eyes and slack jaw; any kind of familiarity with this situation to provide a frame of reference is way before the kid's time here. "Uhh... what the fuck is this circus shit?" he asks his radio, fumbling in his pocket for another cigarette.

Trugkar sticks a claw into his left nostril and rummages around in it before procuring a largish mass of mucus. "Stupid glowyboss. Stupid king."

"Once and Future King, indeed." Fantome reaches up with a four-fingered hand to lightly rub his ching with thumb and forefinger. "sssSSs cusshhH hrunth cusshhH sssrrip hrunth hishHssh SHishhiSH cusshhH sssSSs chufffff cathuth SHishhiSH cusshhH Siiiiissssss  ssssiiiss cathuth  SHishhiSH Iss Iss hrunth chufffff hrunth" he adds in a slur of hisses that must be Naliese. "Empowered indeed."

"Not Richard, you ignoramus," Noz mutters around his cigarillo. "Not the Sivadian King - The /Pirate/ King." The Timonae pushes deeper into the Bazaar, towards the mass of scales and stench that is Trugkar.

The broadcast seems to have brought on some irritation to Lucius's features, and the man quickly removes a cigarette from a pouch and lights it. "Senior staff members, we're having a little meeting down on the AL. Everyone else, keep your positions and keep doing what you've been told." With that, Lucius turns, ignoring all others and heads for the exit.

Crick pauses to consider this announcement, then shakes his head. He wanders off, presumably to tell people about the real King.

Boomer's right hand comes up, not bothering to turn around, middle finger extending to the sky.

Rillitan remains quiet, looking down away from the dirigible now. "This means I'm gonna have to add an hour to that training regime.." he mumbles, looking to Jared with a grin, "Well.. Looks like that ended rather crisply."

Gregorius says to the departing Boomer. "Wrong King there, guy. Dick's not so interested in TK. But there was one who was. And if that was who I think it was, then we are basically screwed here." Marty smirks and adds "I get the feeling the boss better get on the ball here. Hells only knows who's next on his list." He frowns as he says this last.

Seth looks towards Noz, since he seems to know what he's on about. "Pirate King? I'm not too boned up over tamade history but... Pirate King is kinda ringing a bell.

Jared nods his head to Rillitan, "You ain't jokin'." He says to the Tim. His gaze drifts across the bazaar slowly, "Deffinately gonna be a story to tell.."

The silver dirigible with the black gondola ascends toward the upper curve of the dome that covers the ruins of Shadowheart, engines whirring as its silhouette moves across the glowing expanse of the purple and blue Tomin Nebula.

Peter snorts, turning and making his way towards the AL. "Whatever the fuck king he is, he can kiss my ass." Muttering under his breath, he exits the Bazaar.