[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=f9ad81]Foy Coiffeur[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]http://goodwillwatching.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/A-million-ways-to-die-in-the-west-640x350.png[/img][hr][b][color=f9ad81]Location:[/color][/b] Newhope - Lady Luck (Table, Main Room) -> Dock (Outside of Prometheus)
[b][color=f9ad81]Skills:[/color][/b] Perception [hr][/center]

	A very fine bowler cap found its way back onto the noble and perfectly proportioned cranium of The Esteemed Mr. Foy Coiffeur, tapped with just a hair more panache than was truly necessary to affix it snugly but not too tightly. It rounded out his look of dapper frontier aristocracy in such a way that few other things could, save for perhaps his immaculate handlebar moustache. And to point, Foy wrapped himself in his bespoke charcoal-colored suit coat, produced a tiny tin of some unguent or another, and utilized it to wax the ends of his magnificent facial accessory. He flashed a debonair smile, if only for a moment, and nodded at Harper as he spoke his peace. 

	So the Alliance Pilot wanted to get to business in quick order, did he? He couldn't wait to jump ship at his first opportunity to associate with his former quarry, [i]somehow[/i] got in good with the Captain in what he assumed was record time, and threw himself into whatever illegalities were lined up for the lot of them - to the point of passing along the information of a contract being lined up [i]before the Captain or First Officer[/i]. Between that and his decidedly Core World accent, there was more to this man. Oh, Foy simply had to know... Even if he weren't cut off from the majority of his financial resources, he would have stuck around with this crew just to solve the mystery of Lieutenant William Harper and his gigantic, phallic wrench. Foy did so hate being bored, and this dull, unassuming man was getting very interesting for one paying attention. For a moment, the dapper gentleman wondered what Dorothy, Anisa's 2nd in command, thought of the sudden and unexpected rise of this chiseled upstart. Was she jealous? Be it a quiet turn of events, it was most certainly compelling. 

	Foy gathered his food that he had yet to put utensil upon, sealed away in a takeaway box and convenient, disposable bag. He nodded expectantly at the words of his dear friend and fellow Farradayan, Johasafat. He said nothing initially, but pressed his finger to the divot underneath his nose as a knowing gesture, followed by another smile; this one subdued, quiet, and accompanied by a mischievous gleam in his eyes. [color=f9ad81]"Indeed, good sir. Much learned and much more to learn, to wit: Our new companions may provide just the diverting breeze of cool air to clear our heads and find our ...metaphorical thoroughfare... anew."[/color] Foy ran a finger across the brim of his hat and, in typical Farraday Gentleman's practice, held out an arm to Jacqueline. 

	[color=f9ad81]"Miss Croix, it appears that our ways shall not part quite this evening, were you to accept the unusually gracious offer of our upstanding Captain. To that end, I should be thought the better man were you to allow me to escort you back to the safety of our quaint yet admirable vessel."[/color] 

	Be it the case that he walked singly or in pair, Foy made his way back toward Prometheus with light, agile step, filing in behind Jahosafat so as not to obstruct nor hinder his own walk in the evening air. By the time everyone had assembled near the pedestrian but functional cargo doors, he thought to speak up. After a silent piece of time following Anisa's hasty speech echoing her views on insubordination and its direct correlation to airlock-inspired mortality, naturally. [color=f9ad81]"I shall take my supper in the dining area, should anyone wish to join me before turning in; furthermore, should anyone be in need of my Barber's Arts, please make an appointment for the morrow, if you would be as civilized to do so."[/color]
	




[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 (Table) -> Docks (Outside of Prometheus)
[b][color=008080]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][/center]

	It seemed that the young lady he had escorted to the Lady Luck had found companionship elsewhere. Then again, the young Engineer that she had been dancing with seemed to have been claimed by another, a woman that Harper's father would have referred to as a "missile twister", or a woman with experience manipulating the more masculine gender. It was no shock to him that the naive, possibly sheltered fellow would have fallen in with someone of her ilk. But like Anisa had mentioned prior to their conversation at the table and subsequent conversation in the backroom of the establishment, she was looking to round out her crew with people of specific skills. Hers were among those she was looking for, apparently, and Harper was fully aware that pulling double duty as Pilot and Mechanic was going to layer the stress onto an already stressed psyche; hence the Engineer. 

	Of course, there was the Daphne connection. Unless he missed his guess, Daphne seemed to have a thing for Fitz, and Fitz had Jacqueline's talons dug smartly into his hide. Perhaps he needed to stand back for a little bit and let whatever this was play itself out for a little while. Personal drama was the last thing he required in his life right then, and not only because it was hard to hide a body on a ship out in the Black. So no, he was going to keep his face neutral and stick to the plan that he laid out when he got to the table and return to the ship. To that end, he gathered up his and the Captain's meal plus the platter in the center of the table that no one seemed to have touched, and set it all into a series of disposable boxes that fit into a tall, handled bag, which he gripped in his left hand. His right remained free, a force of habit in this circumstance as it was the closest one to his pistol. He balled it lightly and placed it behind his back, straightened his posture fully, and made for the exit. 

	There was an element of surprise as he saw the Captain waiting on him. It was possible that he had overstepped a boundary and she was seeking to correct him outside of earshot from the others, which would be preferable, or that there was a further issue to discuss with him. On the off chance that this not a question of impropriety, he addressed her in a semi-casual manner. [color=008080]"Ma'am..."[/color] Okay, obviously not fully casual, but his tone suggested something other than his training with the Fleet. He continued in a quieter voice, [color=008080]"Food is here, but I could go for a glass of something neat and flammable. Do we have anything on board?"[/color] 

	In the interest of keeping a clear head, Harper had surreptitiously consumed a few drinks of the extremely low-alcohol variety. Now that the evening was winding down, he had some concerns with actually getting any sleep without distilled assistance, particularly with additional people on the ship with whom he was not familiar. Perhaps he would feel better after he got something solid on his stomach. For the meantime, Harper matched pace with Anisa on the way back to the ship, stood quietly as she gave the new people the very simple rule list, and waited for his opportunity to get behind the closed doors of the Dragonfly vessel.