[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=f9ad81]Foy Coiffeur[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://snippetstudios.files.wordpress.com/2014/05/a-million-ways-to-die-in-the-west-640x350.png [/img][hr][b][color=f9ad81]Location:[/color][/b] Foy-er [hr][/center]

	[color=f9ad81]"My, that is certainly the [i]colorfully[/i] ribald dialogue, coming from a Shepherd, Shepherd."[/color] mused Foy, wrapping a hot, damp towel around Atticus's face and neck. To avoid the brunt of a potentially tense situation, he followed up quickly, [color=f9ad81]"Never you worry, Preacher. I take my ancestral occupation with the utmost of stern professionalism. Whereas I might be the sort to shoot someone in the back, while in my chair you are guaranteed the pinnacle of gentlemanly behavior."[/color] 

	Atticus would have easily heard the sound of metal scraping across rough leather in rhythmic motions; a sound commonly associated with the honing of a straight razor. [color=f9ad81]"Of course, there are more contemporary methods of personal grooming, but I find that the archaic remains the solitary path to the perfect shave - requisites include a steady hand and talent that comes from long years' experience. Were it otherwise, my good sir, the [i]Art[/i] leaves the action. Circumstances become trite, even boring. And that simply cannot do."[/color] 

	Foy glanced around the room, even perked an ear to ascertain any footsteps coming up the corridor. He sighed, a little let down. Foy was hoping for a bit more company in his parlor, both to get an idea as to the general nature of these people and because the vast majority of these Alliance people were so two-dimensional it was beyond tiring. At least his good friend Jahosafat was on board now. Kept things interesting. Except today, he was a man in mourning. He would have to schedule some sit-down time with the man later today. 

	[color=f9ad81]"So, straight razor for proper edging, thinning cutters to maintain the robust, craggy splendor on your cheekbones, and ahh.... yes, I do like the shape and line of your locks, my potentially dapper sir. If I may, I should recommend a rakishly diagonal part for your hair and possibly a flame motif for the stubbly portion of your provocative visage?"[/color] 

	[color=f9ad81]"And if I may be so bold, would you suppose your gruff and surly [i]Captain[/i] would entertain the possibility of retaining my services? It would appear the entourage is short a gun or two, and a touch of gentlemanly class, besides. Oh, present company emphatically excepted, mind. Ah, well. Towel's done its work, let us begin."[/color] 


[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=008080]William Harper[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]http://images2.fanpop.com/images/photos/8400000/John-Preston-christian-bale-8481614-500-375.jpg[/img][hr][b][color=teal]Location:[/color][/b] Retribution, Medical (eventually)[hr][/center]

	Harper's steps carried him from the bridge and down the main corridor. He poked his head into many of the rooms designated as open to the general crew, looking for the Browncoat pilot. Funny how things work out sometimes. He considered his folly, looking for someone in places that ordinary Alliance personnel would be found - these people were by nature outlaws, probably moreso than himself. The thought that these people would stick to regulations was laughable. But it [i]was[/i] a method of organization to his search, even if it was foolish. It's not like he didn't have time for it. 

	His search eventually brought him down the corridor to Medical, where he found, strangely, that he was being mentioned. Harper considered clearing his throat, knocking, something to indicate his presence, but the smallest touch of mischief won out over more sensible options. Without announcing himself, he added to the conversation in play. [color=008080]"A respectable amount of Independent pilots were Alliance trained. Majority, ma'am, if you'll believe it. I assure you, I'm quite proficient."[/color] 

	[color=008080]"Your Captain requested I give you instruction operating Alliance vessels, ma'am. Namely, this patrol boat. It handles differently than a Firefly vessel and has additional features. Whenever you're ready."[/color] Harper motioned to the door, removing himself from Daphne's path to the corridor.