[center][hr][hr][IMG]http://fontmeme.com/embed.php?text=Lionel%20Wickett&name=AKENATEN.ttf&size=65&style_color=9C6F6F[/IMG]
[hr][b]Location:[/b] Engine Room[hr][/center]

Lionel's pupil contracts when Dorothy shines her flashlight and reacts as an eye would normally to the stimulus currently being transmitted to it (OOC: I'm not going to go down that specific research rabbit hole for the first couple sentences of a post). After a second or two of this, Lionel shut his eyes and shook his head vigorously. 

[color=9C6F6F]"Fuck, I'm fine! Go bother somebody else with that. Just stop shining that 多才多艺 flashlight in my face already."[/color] Lionel pushed himself back up onto his feet and made a show of wiping off dirt and grime from his clothes. He needed a drink and a shit. On second thought, forget the shit.

[center][h1][color=17A589]Carla Lobo[/color][/h1][/center]
[hr][center][color=17A589][b]Location:[/b][/color] The Bridge[/center][hr]

[color=17A589]"I have to agree with you, my good sir,"[/color] Carla replied, twirling her combat knife between her fingers. It flowed smoothly between the digits, like a creek windy through a woodland on a sunny summer's day. [color=17A589]"I believe the last time I danced was two months ago exactly. But it was more of a swing than a waltz. That said, it seems Gregory would have us relegated to a simple two-step. A shame, but we'll have to take what we can get."[/color] Carla stopped her knife twirling routine and forcefully returned it to its proper place, tucked into a sheath hidden from sight and the hip level. If they were to do things non-lethally, showing up with a drawn knife would lead to that goal quickly becoming FUBAR'd.