
The Maître d' allows himself a moment to take in and professionally examine the "ambience" and was satisfied. The mercs, always trying but well paying customers, were well within the bounds of their previous benchmarks of excess and neither Civic Rescue nor Collace PD - even though the UpSpire Patrolmen were both "understanding" (they were pushing the rate on that!) and "discrete" in equal measure. He had done his time in the PDF and felt himself qualified as a military man if not quite in the same league as the special forces types dining this evening.
But he had never heard the roar of hunting male Aslan.
The shockwave of the orchestrated roar tore datasheets from stands and hurled them into the ocean's abyss, the physicality was palpably offensive but it was something deep within that noise that was primevally... predatory. It was the sound of a carnivore that you couldn't out run because it was now triumphally within killing range. Wracked by primal fear the Maître d' became grateful that he'd worn the darker shade of slacks.
Within close proximity of the roar medical event alerts chorused from guests in the cheap seats triggering all available clean up 'bots and two first aid staff.
This was the arrival Warlord Ikazuchi “Thunder” Commander of the Teahleikhoi, the Regiment of the Falling Night accompanied by his reputable Bannermen: Kongō, Hiei, Kirishima and Haruna. Behind them lesser unarmoured warriors bear a bier with a stasis field bearing the body of an armoured Aslan warrior (as it was recovered from the field!) and, in equal place in formation, four more bearing a mon emblazoned urn. The Bannermen's four two meter tall Iyhlua Clan holographic sashimono banners flare into life illuminating the Spire entrance to the restaurant terrace with the reflected light from pale blue silk driven by a holographic breeze. Yet these are now in turn eclipsed by the blazing holographic banner of the Warlord himself, a truly massive near three meter tall Aslan of almost gravitational overt masculinity and predatory threat.
Having made their entrance the Aslan extinguish plasma bladed weaponry and then reverse and ground their blades in what must (hopefully) be a gesture of companionship if nowhere near pacifism.
And yet... there is a space next to Warlord Ikazuchi's entourage.
In the shadows of the Aslan banners yet given equal "parade room" by the Aslan stands a group of human soldiery. The guy with the air of command at the front is greeted by a gleeful yelp by Polly Iyhlua Maguire who bolts across the entry space (why, yes, she can run in heels) to embrace him.
Stood behind this guy is a one armed man escorting two ladies who seem sweet on him. To his right stands a diminutive female Sword Worlder (by skin tone and hair colour) holding hands with a taller black haired Vilani woman wearing what might be a dress made from that "latest black" that almost absorbs light. Another Vilani officer is front and center together with a "high sides" haircut guy and a female wearing a theatrical(?) mask. Also a Vargr appears to have got past security (they do that) wearing a jaunty turban with a massive feather and a silver cloak which contrasts with his star patterned black shirt and trousers (and duvet cover and drapes - sooo much material to work with) with some sort of yellow and black wolfshead motif. [They said "Evening do" and anyway the Vargr classic of fuschia pink, purple and lime green weren't readily available].
Reactions from the assembly continue to diverge from medical and/or continence emergency to those mostly immune in privacy field shielded tables and those braced or experienced enough to survive the shock. The 4DC officer corps/participating shareholders seem delighted by the new arrivals (in fairness specifically their fellow human mercs) and very carefully (avoiding the Aslan) bung ice cubes etc at the new arrivals.
Meanwhile, Warlord Ikazuchi just simply barges his way through humans and furniture towards Yūgure like a creature unwilling to acknowledge any obstacle to his focus. Nothing stands in his way as he makes way to greet his wife.
Roscoe and Jaelah can more than smell the overpowering "musk" of the Warlord and his retinue it is literally over powering as an aftershave it would include (enemy blood, cordite, a touch of sandalwood and a ladleful of glory).
The Warlord is intimidating by presence alone massively muscled and male the near three meter tall Aslan seems to exude testosterone. More "style chaseingly" effeminate Collace council members in his wake just brace up and get a grip.
The "wedge" which he and his living (and dead) Bannermen form halts on top od Roscoe and Jaelah. He speaks and his voice has a tangible bass element. In the tone he's using now Jaelah feels* it.
The Warlord speaks like grating granite "Yūgure, my Twilight, I have missed your warm company".
Then clearing his throat like the collapse of a scree slope Ikazuchi states:
"I went to Tarsus
Foe trench with orbit defence
I stacked leaders heads".
He easily hefts a very artfully crafted bespoke wooden pallet bearing a canvas covered pyramid bearing the Iyhlua mon. Anyone with Aslan senses or possessing Metz upgrades can scent dried blood (human remains) with a hint of decomp.
[Jaelah and Roscoe only. If it was possible to even imagine (and you've just seen the uber confident businesswoman) Yūgure "The Twilght" simping and going gooey - you were there front row].
Yūgure states "My Lord will need comfort after his time in the field of honour. Let me offer what assistance I may". She asides to Polly "Evening meal... day after tomorrow".
(OOC: * It's like an IV infusion of Barry White).
EDIT: corrected syllable count on haiku!