White Dahlia (Pazzo x Malice_in_wonderland)

[Malice_in_wonderland]

Ilsa Zilzer step out from the doorway into the bright summer sunshine. Glad she had worn her red and white Pokka dotted halter dress. A last minute choice from her otherwise drab set. It show off her taunt form. Displaying her generous helping of bosom so sun starved of late.

The glare from the sea and white sands below bounce back it's intense light into her hooded eyes. A little too much sun! Ilsa dropped her shades, of which rested upon a crown of chestnut curls. Their black lenses caught the look of a charming bloke. He eyed Ilsa up and down. Before he could brave an approach she turned away. Rushing head long into the sea of bodies that promenaded the sky Boardwalk. An active effort to disappear among the masses.

The day crowd had exited the public Air buses. Some shuffled towards the resorts and casinos in land. While others lingers for the many shops and carnival attractions that ran the mile high walkway. The length of which ran from the beaches and cliffs, off into the crystal seas. The lapping waters hit the massive poles that held the walkway levelled to floating Air ships. They who beckon customers with cheeky names of pretty dames. Lola, the tease. Mona, the heartbreaker. Kathy, who had a winking pin up girl painted on its metal haul. Most of them took the sun burn tourist over the pristine waters. So they could sun topless or get hung over.

All the while, as Ilsa made her way towards the touring Air ships she marveled. Heaven! The White Dahlia, the jewel of the South Seas. Not a single tank, or air raid siren going off. Although as she made her way down she spotted a few dark patches. A formal looking man in black and grey. A Death head symbols upon their arms.

Ilsa held her breath every time she passed one. Don't stop, don't pause. Don't hold your breath.

But they have no power here. The Death Heads had taken over home but they were guests in White Dahlia. But Ilsa knew they could make people disappear. She knew enough of them to never let her guard down.

She counted the number lots. Forty-five, forty-six- ah! Coming in front of the Air Ship she had been told about.

Ilsa open toe sandal foot step onto number forty-seven's ramp. Hollering on board for its captain.

"Hello? Anyone in?" Her eyes unable to scan much from her position, "I am Miss Zilzer. Here to inquired about booking your ship?"

From her purse she withdrew the letter. The broker she had paid, said the captain was open to smuggling. Recalling the codewords the broker told her to use.

"Mr. A said you knew a perfect spot to dig for pearls?" Ilsa held her breath.

Please be right. Please let this whole mess be over with.

 

[Pazzo]

Markus just eyed the well worn rigging in his hands, as he ran the rough tarred fibers through his fingers. They were tight, sturdy, and would hold through several more flights. His ship was a smaller, lighter type craft made for speed. It had come stock with lighter armaments, but that of course had changed through it changing hands of many owners. It now bristled weaponry that could rival that of the lighter destroyers, With engines that could outrun even the fastest corvettes.



"One more run, and I will finally have you paid off." He murmured to himself, as he stretched his muscular arms, and flexed his tanned bare chest in the bright sun. Judging from the shape of his body, you would think he might be much younger than middle age. The many tattoos and scars that snaked across his skin, and the streaks of gray in his dark hair and beard told the story of someone much older. He looked every bit the part of an experience freelancer smuggler and skyship captain.

He felt his ship rock a little, and he grunted. He knew his ship better than he knew himself, and that tell tale shift could only mean it was that damnable parole officer. Six months ago they city had stopped him, and searched his vessel with a surprise investigation. The whole thing stank, like it was a setup from the beginning. His hunch turned out to be right, but the money seemed good, as did the vendor for whom he had smuggled many good for before.

Old Leeroy must have been busted, and had then sold him out for extra consideration, or a lighter sentence, or even both. Even more infuriatingly, the Judge had been vocal about giving Marcus a break, by sentencing him to "only" six months of community service. In lieu of prison time, and having his ship impounded, he was to provide guided tours of the city to tourists, and various VIP's. Markus had somewhat of a reputation, and the city had decided to capitalize on it. People often paid exorbitant fees to sail upon his famous ship, "The White Hare."

Of course, he never saw any of it, save for what was needed for basic food, and repairs to his ship. A good pet to have Markus supposed. He just shook his head, and grit his teeth. "Hello Shemp." He muttered, without turning around. "Here to supervise another run old friend?" Markus's tone was low, and malicious. One could easily tell he was not happy to have the fat, balding man with the greasy long beard step on his ship. That had been part of the conditions of his probation. Shemp was his "Handler", and a highly annoying one at that, constantly baiting Markus, trying to make him violate the terms of the agreement, so that he could add more time onto his "sentence."

Markus turned around, his black leather pant straps flapping in the breeze. Shemp took pause, as he hesitated with his next step. His lower lip fluttered some, as the impotent, thin wisp of hairs that were supposed to be a goatee shook from his flabby chin. The smuggler wanted nothing more than to give the fat man a hefty kick right in his gut, so that he fell helplessly through the air. Markus smiled at that fantasy. But, it just wasn't meant to be. Several devices were hidden all over the ships engines, all of which could be activated at the touch of a button on Shemp's tasteless staff, or even if his heart stopped beating.

It was a sort of new cruelty, to have to protect a man he sorely hated, all so that his ship wouldn't be irreparably damaged. "Actually, no." came the shrill, beta male reply. "You are hereby released, for serving your term of service, without incident." Markus's eyebrows furrowed, as he heard booted feet behind him. Several hefty looking mechanics were carrying various equipment, automated fuel line cutters, explosive bundles, and other nasty things that infuriated Markus every time he saw them. Things that served as an uncomfortable leash meant to keep him under control. He then turned back to Shemp, looking at him incredulously, only to see that the man was no longer on his ship at all, but standing upon the skypier, casting him a look full of contempt.

"Hmmm." Markus had thought to himself, as he casually walked over to his control panel, running a ship-wide sweep and diagnostic. All devices had indeed been removed. He bit his lower lip as he watched his weapon charge to full power. He then looked to the dock, oh so tempted to let loose of a full barrage, killing Shemp, and that idiots who had their hands all over his ship for the past half of a year. They seemed to feel his gaze, and were not walking away at a slow pace. "Someone higher up must have leaned upon him. Something just doesn't add up again."

He then heard a lovely feminine voice call out to him. He looked up, and his breath momentarily stopped, as he saw her lovely breasts stretch out her top, heaving as the powerful lungs underneath supplied her throat with air. Markus just blinked, and tore his eyes away from the magnificent secondary sexual characteristics that had distracted him, forcing his mind to listen to what she was saying. He strode down the planks from his raised wheelhouse, pulling on a loose fitting tan colored sleeveless tunic, that still showed off his muscular chest.

Markus gently took the note that the gorgeous woman had handed to him. The code words she used told the story all too well, and gave him the answer he wanted. "Digging for pearls." Was a warning of sorts. "The broker she had went through had been compromised, and was being watched. Miss Zilzer however, judging from the desperate look in her eyes, and the way she carried herself, was not part of whatever plot was in work. Markus eyes the documents, and saw she had went through Omara. Markus grit his teeth. Using his powerful hands, he folded the letter up, and gently pulled upon the fabric, covering the lovely woman's breasts, making a small pocket.

The skyship captain carefully tucked the document into the gorgeous woman's top, running his powerful fingers along the inside of its hem, brushing her skin slightly, careful not to give her any paper cuts. "I'm sorry my dear." He said in a normal voice. "I'm afraid I'm not open for business. All of the pearls I know of have been dug up." He then leaned in closely, as if looking down her shirt, as any smuggler might be known to do. He brought his mouth close to her ear, but did not move his lips. "Sunside Tavern, three hours." He whispered silently, and then released the fabric of her top.

He then left her standing there, as he disembarked, his eyes watchful, glancing around, looking for anyone that might be following him. Markus grinned as he saw two idiots pretending to look at produce suddenly stop looking at their melons, only to follow him down the swaying gangplanks. Markus went and talked to several vendors that day, making small talk, seemingly doing nothing but being a reformed ship captain, inquiring about legitimate cargo runs. Once he was sure he had lost them through several misdirections and wanderings, he made his way to the specified Tavern he told Miss Zilzer of.
The Sunside Tavern was on the far Western side of the floating city, directly opposite of where his ship was berthed. It was your typical style bar, comfortably mid range in terms of quality, but kept fastidiously clean. Markus ordered a full Tankard of decent ale that surprisingly wasn't watered down, and stood near the balcony like bar edge, offering a breathtaking view of the reddish orange sun hanging low in the sky, right where he wouldn't be missed.

 

[Malice_in_wonderland]

Ilsa took a step back when Markus came into view.

His half assed move to get presentable failed. Ilsa knew at once this was no gentleman. The inked lines and angry scars that didn't hide under his shirt weren't even his dead giveaway. The way he was build, a giant of a man. A force to be reckon with. It was all in his eyes. Those that made her swallow the rising lump in her throat. They belong to a man harden by life. A survivor of wars. One who gave as good as he got. So help you god you better kill him first.

In her old life, Ilsa would never have associated with such a man. Preferring the clean cut, Oxford types who woe her with speeder rides. But they were all dead now. Or having sided with the Death Heads. To hell with them and their fumbling love making!

When Markus grabbed her top front, Ilsa froze. She half expected him to cock his fist and give her face the one two. Oh, no! Had she wholly forgotten a none war torn life? Her hand clasped the returned letter tucked in her deep crease. In my old life you would have gotten slapped for that!

His words said sorry doll, but his eyes said, later.

Sunshine Tavern, in three hours. Ilsa nodded.

"What a shame, Sir." Wisely, she finally broke her eyes from Markus to beyond his shoulders.

A lump of a man stood a way back. A man who leered at the both of them. He looks like my old lab supervisor.

Ilsa clicked her heels and walked- not ran, back up the sky boardwalk.

She didn't go right to their arrange meeting spot. That would give them both any. Knowing enough now about blending in. Instead she went to the locker where she left her last worldly goods. Ilsa traveled light. A warmer coat, smarter shoes, tourist maps, her notes and a change of currency's. Getting as far from the Death Heads to White Dahlia and Ilsa was finally running out of funds. Counting about Five-fifty in Euro's, ten in pounds, and a handful of gold coins from before the first war.

Ilsa had a light lunch in a café. Barely able to eat much. Her stomach was so filled with nerves. Recalling Markus intense stare. It would be hard to get him taken so little.

Finally she headed to the Sunshine Tavern with five mins to spare. It was a bar that ran like a night club. It came with a dance floor and space for a full band to play live. They had large glassless windows so the Sky Boardwalk people could look in. Temped with day time drinking and a cool spot to sit in the shade. An Android welcomed her in and she ordered a gin and tonic before being shown a seat.

 

[Pazzo]

Markus just eyed the crowd from his nondescript corner, tipping the serving android well every time he came by to refill his tankard. He was enjoying a healthy buzz, as his cybernetic brass kidney and copper liver replacements made a full on drunken stupor impossible. The patrons consisted of your usual crowd of merchants, tradesmen, and the occasional tourist, all hungry or thirsty, after that evening meal or drink.

Markus had decided to indulge in a plate of sautéed steak tips with a generous helping of salted white rice. He likewise flipped through a book, making sure to flip the pages every thirty seconds or so, to create the illusion that he was reading, rather than scanning the crowd every so often. The android waiter knew him as a regular, and kept his visits semi frequent, to about one every quarter hour. The brassy, synthesized voice emanated from the vox speaker set within his iron mandible. "There are three on the lookout for you, but none here Lord Tarkus." He said to Markus, making him grimace. What ever possessed his father to name him "Markus?" Because "Markus Tarkus" just sounded, for lack of a better word, Silly.

"One is watching your ship, but he is getting bored, and making sidelong glances at courtesans that we have in the area. Another is still looking for you in the Market District, while the third is over at customs." The android said to him, as he refilled his heft wooden tankard. Markus nodded, as he checked the great wooden clock upon the wall, just above the main bar area. He grumbled, as he saw there were barely five minutes left.

His suspicions however were alleviated as soon as he saw the lovely miss (Zilzer was it?) make her entry. Being as attractive as she was, she did draw her share of turned heads from the men in the crowd, and they in turn either got a glare of death from their female companions, or even outright slapped. No one brave enough to actually go up and talk to her.

"Hey, Max." He murmured to the android as he almost walked off, gently grasping his steel shod wooden arm, pulling him close. "I would like to buy that vision of loveliness over there a drink." He murmured. "Also, let her know the buyer might have found a few pearls to dig up after all."

 

[Malice_in_wonderland]

When her Tonic came, the Android held up its hand refusing her coin.

"Paid for, by the gentleman in the corner. He is still offering Pearls for sale."

Ilsa followed the pointing titanium digit to a booth. The sky captain was having a meal and downing his booze like it was water. Her eyes widen. "Smooth." Ilsa took her glass and slowly made her way over to Markus. Halting just short of arm reach. If anyone was over hearing, Ilsa checked over her thoughts before speaking.

"Hello Sailor." Holding up the drink he bought her. Only to pause and take a sip.

"Usually Diamonds are a girls best friend." Ilsa rested her back against another booths backing,"But Academics like me, prefer pearls. May I join you?"

Ilsa didn't wait and slide across from him. Leaning closer, her halter top exposed as she did so. "Is it safe too talk?"

She eyed the Android staff, "Those could be corrupted?"

 

[Pazzo]

Markus followed her glance to the android and shrugged. "Generally, its a safe gamble to assume everything is corrupted, and will betray you in some way." he murmured to the pretty little steampunk maiden, his chiseled jaw working to chew a bit of steak. "It's not so much a question of if, but of when."

He then took his tankard, and brought it to his lips, washing down his meal with the last of the cool, frothy brew. "Your code phrase," He started to murmur. "Apparently your broker was compromised, and trying to warn you. Someone is putting pressure on him to give something up. I am not at all surprised, as this damn place has been trying to find a legal way to get a leash around my neck permanently, for months."

Markus then looked around the cantina, brushing his dark, grizzled long hair away from his eyes. "It would appear they are after you as well." He said acidly, nodding to the droid to refill his tankard. "So what sort of trouble are you in, Miss Lizler? What exactly is it you are running from?" He said in a low voice, certainly not loud enough to be heard over the general chatter of everyone else in attendance.