[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] Newhope - Lady Luck [hr][/center]

	[color=f9ad81]"Hmm..."[/color] mused Foy, his hum becoming the verbal equivalent of a child's squeal of glee at being released in a candy store. [color=f9ad81]"Indeed, by fine sir. And despite these more pedestrian surroundings, I retain confidence that this is one such locale wherein Sin is commonly brokered commodity, ho ho!"[/color] His saunter up to the bar alongside his dearest friend turned into a polite step back as Jahosafat spoke in his usual grandiose manner to Anisa and Dorothy. Mostly Anisa. He took this opportunity to order. For him, it was a sharp rap upon the bar and the utterance of, [color=f9ad81]"Three fingers of whiskey in a tumbler, my blue-collared fellow. Neat, and fast."[/color] Foy generally spoke less to persons who were paid to serve him.  

	It was not his manner to interrupt the initial conversational salvo, particularly when issued from a fellow Gentleman of Standing. Such an opener, when properly enunciated, set the tone for the remainder of the evening. While Jahosafat took care of this pre-debauch ritual, Foy made mental note of where everyone else in his group was located. Of course, the very notion of this being "his group" left him feeling momentarily woozy. Foy was officially a hired gun on a Dragonfly vessel captained by a Browncoat. Such odd times, indeed. But Foy mentally digressed; he was looking for the crew. 

	Atticus had very clearly been dragged into a quiet room by a prostitute with compelling upper body strength, apparently. The Captain and Dorothy were present and in front of him, as well as the enigmatic Dr. Moreau. Harper and Daphne seemed to be approaching the bar nearby from the side. Mostly, they were still clustered around one another. Whether it be happenstance, psychological need of the crew to stick together in unfamiliar surroundings, or the easier solution that these were the only spaces available, they were mostly all in a sort of staging area, hanging in formation until an appropriate target presented itself for individuals to attack. To this end, Atticus had gone rogue. Lucky bastard. 

	Then Jahosafat turned his attentions back to The Esteemed Mr. Coiffeur, offering up a toast in the manner that only a proper Farradayan could. With style, with vigor, and with a highly developed vocabulary. As he spoke, Foy's glass of neat whiskey arrived, as if on cue. One hand dropped a folded piece of scrip (intended to cover his whiskey and Jahosafat's cognac) and almost simultaneously snatched up the tumbler, just in time to take full part in Jahosafat's toast. [color=f9ad81]"Indubitably and assured, my most dapper of compatriots! To us!"[/color] he took his own, drawing taste of whatever passed for whiskey in this place. He turned to one of the people tending bar, offering critique to the house's spirits. [color=f9ad81]"I say, this tastes very much like what I used to provide my family's housemen on special occasions. Nostalgic, in a particularly mediocre capacity."[/color] He tapped his glass, signaled for another (though he had barely touched his first) and turned to the rest of the crew. [color=f9ad81]"If you would be as kind as to excuse me, I must attend a matter of personal urgency."[/color] 

	Foy threw back the remainder of his first glass just as the second arrived. He tipped his cap to the crewmates assembled, swirled his glass, and began moving with the utmost of posture and propriety toward the card tables, or more appropriately, toward women of a certain type [i]near[/i] them. Optimistically, he called back behind him, [color=f9ad81]"To quote the immortal words of some general or another from antiquity; I Shall Return!"[/color] 



[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=008080]William Harper[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-joToxLegqZk/UlP_OiXe43I/AAAAAAAAcfs/_sbEOs83YPQ/s400/Peinados+de+hombres+al+estilo+de+Christian+Bale-1.jpg[/img][hr][b][color=teal]Location:[/color][/b] Newhope - Lady Luck [hr][/center]	

	The acceptance of Harper's offer to buy Daphne a drink was met by a small, polite smile. [color=008080]"Excellent,"[/color] he vocalized in a low, melodic tone, and began ushering Daphne to the nearest open spots at the bar proper. As it turned out, they were very near to most of the rest of the crew. In a way, it was fortunate. Harper used to be a bar-hopping moderate drinker as the occasion called for it, but the events of recent years had brought marked changes in the man. Anymore, he wasn't a huge fan of being surrounded by people he didn't know, especially if they had varying levels of intoxication. Internally, it made him jumpy. His exterior remained as collected as ever, however; another feat mastered because of the events of the past few years. 

	The two of them reached the bar to be immediately set upon by the service staff. They seemed to be fully on top of things. Harper placed his order in the same calm but assertive manner. [color=008080]"Please make sure the young lady gets what she needs on me. I will have a Ginger beer and bitters, and a single whisky. [i]Decent[/i] whiskey."[/color] As the drinks arrived, he looked to Daphne. [color=008080]"I don't mean to be rude, but I owe the Captain a quick "thank you". I'll just be a minute, but then I'd love to hear about your experience flying with these people."[/color] 

	Harper picked up his big mug of frothy, amber liquid and glass of whisky, temporarily relocating a meter or two down the bar. Foy had just left, and it created an area of open space that was much quieter for his absence. He stopped next to Anisa and set the glass down in front of her. [color=008080]"Ma'am?"[/color] he started, his voice showing a little of his cultured, Core World upbringing, [color=008080]"I appreciate you allowing me the first opportunity to pilot Prometheus. She's one hell of a boat, Ma'am."[/color] Absently, he pulled a bit of fluff from her hair and discarded it upon the floor. Raising his mug as to toast, Harper looked Anisa in the eye and gave a sincere, [color=008080]"Thank you, Captain."[/color]