[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] N/A[hr][/center]

	Foy gave a nod and a smile in the direction of Fitz. Though it was done so without the benefit of panache or social graces, the nervous man [i]did[/i] answer the toast in with the proper response. One of the more or less acceptable ones, anyway. Either way, it demonstrated to the dapper Farradayan that he was at least [i]attempting[/i] to be polite. [color=f9ad81]"Yours and your family's, sir."[/color] he responded in turn, taking a small sip of the smoky and smooth liquor in his glass. Foy set it down in front of him, and looked to his cards. 

	He was still examining his hand as he began to speak. [color=f9ad81]"Now now, ladies and gentlemen. I daresay that there is more than a modicum of beach silicate ensconced twixt the nethers and the undergarments of all parties here, save for perhaps our speech impeded friend, Dr. Townsley. Or to put it in the more layfolk vernacular, Fitzy appears to be the only one [i]attempting[/i] polite conversation. I believe we are forgetting ourselves."[/color] 

	As a break in his rant, [color=f9ad81]"Oh, and I shall see your twenty, Dr. Moreau."[/color]

	[color=f9ad81]"To my initial point, I confess my own guilt in regard to impolite behavior that borders upon the ungentlemanly. My apologies, of course. I shall be succinct in my manner, befitting the situation."[/color] He turned his head to look at Mei, a lighthearted look on his face that seemed in contrast with his words, [color=f9ad81]"Madame, your actions and the subsequent follow-up made necessary by said actions have deprived me of a very charming pair of madisons. It is this to which I have made select, backbiting commentary, and it is the primary motivator of my ire. Second, of course, to being fired upon by an uninvited guest. The latter is occasionally the cost of doing business for an entrepreneur such as myself, but the former? One simply cannot wander into a dry goods establishment and procure another pair."[/color] 

	Foy cleared his throat, [color=f9ad81]"Civility and proper discourse are the cornerstones of polite society. Unfortunately, all we have is this society within which we must function. And I do despise being uncivilized with persons I am not contracted against."[/color] He chuckled a bit. [color=f9ad81]"Besides, I appear to have left my revolvers upon the ship."[/color] He looked to be attempting humor, evidenced by the broader smile and apparent settling in to re-examine his cards. 


[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=008080]William Harper[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://img.cinemablend.com/filter:scale/cb/6/4/a/b/d/a/64abda9122910e2617318cdc3d43516062ebc1ae5b880e96ddb5beadc78d4655.jpg?mw=600[/img][hr][b][color=teal]Location:[/color][/b] Newhope - Lady Luck 
[b][color=008080]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][/center]

	Being pulled along from one unknown to another was not Harper's idea of a good time. But thinking about it objectively, he wasn't really expecting a good time tonight. Every decision he had consciously made was based on the concept that there was a large brick of shit, tumbling and rolling through the air, aimed unerringly toward a gargantuan industrial fan set to a speed suitable for liftoff were it not moored to the ground. It was not a question of [i]if[/i] the shit would hit the fan, but [i]when[/i]. His lack of consumption of alcohol, the placement of himself between Anisa and Daphne, even some of the finer points of his sarcasm were designed to delay or prepare for a worst case scenario; the theory being that enough of a delay would put them back at the ship before that scenario had opportunity to manifest. 

	This seemed doomed to failure the moment that the stranger began speaking with Anisa and insisted on continuing the conversation behind closed doors. It took both himself and the Captain out of the larger equation in the main room of the establishment but also cut them off from possible assistance from the rest of the crew, such as it was. Not that he had a whole lot of trust in these people - that would have to be established - but they seemed the type of self-involved persons that didn't know each other and were unwilling to stick their necks out without promise of pay or other motivation. He counted himself among that number, being honest. But it had to start somewhere. For Harper, that started with the unexpected meeting in the back room of a port hangout, surrounded by alcohol and ammunition. 

	Maybe maintaining the persona of the able Lieutenant was the best course of action. He kept the mildly annoyed but dutiful look to his face and followed Anisa toward the door, intoning a professional, [color=teal]"After you, Ma'am."[/color] as they came to it. The moment he entered and the door clicked shut behind them, however, the first thing he did was take stock of the people in the room, potential exit points, and the nearest, most available blunt object he could press into service as an innocuous first strike weapon. If whatever this was started to go south, he wanted to make sure there was a suitably loud and painful distraction on standby.