[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 
[b][color=008080]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A[hr][/center]

	Harper wasn't sure what about his little performance was most disturbing, the fact that both the laugh [i]and[/i] the tears were genuine, coming from some place slightly off-kilter in his psyche, or the fact that absolutely no one seemed to react to it in the slightest. That was a Grade A distraction, and it seemed to be for naught. When the pistol in her hand barked, the enigmatic pilot forced himself not to react. It wasn't easy, though. Not when a gun goes off that close to one's head. Harper's eyes widened in sudden surprise for a half second before relaxing back into something casual, lest any unwanted attention come his way from the authority figure holding the recently fired gun. 

	Ah well, at least nobody died. And he seemed to have a touch more in the way of job security, such as anything was particularly [i]secure[/i] right then. He did feel a little bad for Daphne, though. The indiscretions of youth slamming hard into the life-and-death consequences of life out in the Black made for the occasional painful lesson, as Harper himself was fully aware. Fully, and painfully aware. 

	He gave Anisa a nod, following her order to help his "escortee" from the floor. Harper put an understanding look on his face and slipped from the chair, coming to crouch slightly over Daphne. [color=008080]"Come on. I've got you. Let's get you up."[/color] he said softly, extending his free hand down to her. It was at this time that he realized that someone was already offering her assistance. He wasn't a huge fan of people that invested themselves in other people's [i]dram[/i]. It was the opposite of a survival plan, much of the time. Switching to a more neutral tone, he looked the woman in the eyes and intoned, [color=008080]"It's okay, Miss. I've got her."[/color]




[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 
[b][color=f9ad81]Skills:[/color][/b] Perception[hr][/center]

	It was certainly an act of thoughtful concern for Foy's near and dear friend to put knuckle to door, alerting him to the potential frivolities in store for a well appointed man of the Gentlemanly Arts. Indeed, the slim but dangerous man had since wrapped up his more personal recreation and was toward the end of a truly masterful knot for his very fine necktie, having otherwise dressed and re-armed himself appropriate to the setting. He pulled on his jacket and procured his bowler hat from the lamp on the nightstand, giving his compliments to the stalwart and dexterous professional in his midst. 

	[color=f9ad81]"Madame, I commend your talent and commitment to the unabridged satisfaction of your clientele! Indubitably, despite never having entertained a guest from the Farradayan Gentry (as was your earlier assertion, yes?) you assuredly have grasped the proficient and vigorous application of a proper Stacheing, indeed! To wit, here..."[/color] Foy placed an amount of hard currency back upon the nightstand, [color=f9ad81]"...is ample gratuity. May your bedsprings ever be agreeable, madame. Now then...[/color] continued Foy as he placed his hat upon his head and tapped it into place, [color=f9ad81]"I must away."[/color]

	Of course, he had heard the gunshot just earlier. It was taken with a grain of salt at first, but it did cause him to strap on his Derringers and give a listen for other, supporting sounds. It was not a firefight, more than a argument that happened to have 9mm punctuation, and when Jahosafat gave a little knock at his door it fully convinced the man that most was well. And so, with confidence befitting a man who had his Stache and eat it too, he opened the door leading out to the balcony and strode to meet the main room as only he could: From up above and with perfect posture. 

	[color=f9ad81]"Dance you say, my ebon counterpart? I should [i]adore[/i] the notion of a lively exchange of partners, settling into a robust Schottische, and organized Line, or a precocious Square, would you not?"[/color] Stepping to the edge of the balcony, Foy quickly located the rest of the crew and took great interest on the floor-bound Daphne. Not so much the young lady herself, but those around her. The two new faces at the table were still present, the Captain was playing poker as if nothing had transpired, Harper was offering her Daphne a hand up, and no one was dead. 

	Oh and that woman he was tracking through a sewer earlier? She was also there, for whatever reason, right beside Harper and Daphne with her hand out. [color=f9ad81]"Indeed, let us demonstrate the proper execution of all things Farradayn..."[/color] he mused, before turning his head slightly to Jahosafat. The change in the pitch of his voice, though slight, was enough to color his words with a touch of professionalism. He carefully released one of his Derringers into his hand. [color=f9ad81]"Though first, my friend, it is time to get back on the clock, as it were. That audacious young woman with our Pilots is our uninvited guest from earlier. I daresay she owes me a pair of Madisons."[/color]