Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Morose
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Morose ✨Krakoan Princess✨

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Fitz Townsley


Location: Prometheus: Lower Deck: Single Top (7)
Skills: None

No one had lifted poor Fitz off of the floor. He wasn't conscious yet, but his heart rate and pulse had both stabilized, thankfully. It was almost as if his body was waiting at the command prompt stage, just waiting to see if they'd reboot him in safe mode or not. Of course, with Jackie and Daphne's continued butting of heads, it was entirely possible that if he did wake up, he might get stressed out again and faint, repeating the process. "...Yes, Sir Newton, I would love to join you for tea..." Fitz mumbled.

He had no knowledge of his surroundings, but in Fitz-land, he was being invited to lunch by who he was pretty sure was the very first scientist to ever live - Sir Newton. His skin didn't seem to be as clammy as it had been before he fainted. His head moved slightly, as he started to rumble more incoherent nonsense. "But Daphne is a princess, Sir Newton..." he muttered. It seemed only his unconscious ramblings were free of his stutter. "...She can't make you tea...Queen Anisa would be mad at her..."
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Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by BlueSky44
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BlueSky44 Tech Monkey

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Daphne Pender

Location: Prometheus: Lower Deck: Single Top (7)
Skills: None


Daphne rolled her eyes slightly at Jackie. She did have a point though, it probably would be best to take Fitz over to the medical area which wasn't too far away. They wouldn't have to go very far to get him help, though she wasn't looking forward too much to explaining to her sister what had happened to cause Fitz to have this sort of melt down. "Yup, you are right about that, let's see about getting him there, though he does seem to be doing slightly better now, so we could just sit here and wait for him to wake up."

Then when she looked at Fitz, she heard the words that he was saying, and it made her second guess that sentence she had just said about leaving him be. He sounded delusional, and she had no idea what to do about that. "Okay, I take that back. Maybe leaving him be until he wakes up wouldn't be the best idea after all," she said to Jackie as she heard Fitz's mumbling or whatever. Apparently something involving Newton, and her as some princess or whatever. It wasn't making any sense to her, so she decided to stop paying attention to what he was saying.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Lady Absinthia
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Lady Absinthia ⚘ Blossoming ⚘

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Anisa screwed the cigarette between her lips and gave a curt single shake of her head. "No, a message won't do. I need to call. This is personal and I will be damned if I give the Brunhilde Bitch even more reason to be pissed," she said as she walked over and took a seat. Pulling the smoke from her lips she held it between two fingers as she hit the message record. "Vinters, it's Crowe. It's about Thumper," she said into the monitor before sending out the wave. She said no more but she knew it would be forwarded to the woman. Now she just needed to wait. Hopefully it wouldn't take long.



"Thith ith the thong that doethn't end, it jutht goeth on and on my friend. Thome people tharted thinging it not knowing what ith wath and they'll continue thinging it forever jutht becauthe...Thith ith the thong that doethn't end, it jutht goeth on and on my friend. ~beep beep~Thome people tharted thinging it not knowing what ith wath and they'll continue thinging it forever jutht becauthe...Thith ith the thong that doethn't end, it jutht goeth on and on my friend. Thome people tharted thinging it not knowing what ith wath and they'll continue thinging it forever jutht becauthe...Thith ith "...Cyril..." the thong that doethn't end, it jutht goeth on and on my friend. ~beep beep~Thome people tharted thinging it not knowing what ith wath and they'll continue thinging it forever jutht becauthe...Thith ith the thong that doethn't end, it jutht goeth on and on my friend. Thome people tharted thinging it not knowing what ith wath and they'll continue thinging it forever jutht becauthe...Thith ith the thong that doethn't end, it jutht goeth on and on my friend. Thome people tharted thinging it not knowing what ith wath and they'll continue thinging it forever jutht becauthe...Thith ith the thong that doethn't end, "...Cyril..." it jutht goeth on and on my friend. Thome people tharted thinging it not knowing what ith wath and they'll continue thinging it forever jutht becauthe...Thith ith the thong that ~beep beep~doethn't end, it jutht goeth on and on my friend. Thome people tharted thinging it not knowing what ith wath and they'll continue thinging it forever jutht becauthe...Thith ith the thong that doethn't end, it jutht goeth on and on my friend. Thome people tharted thinging it not knowing what ith wath and they'll continue thinging it forever jutht becauthe...Thith ith the thong that doethn't end, it jutht goeth on and on my friend. Thome people tharted thinging it not knowing what ith wath ~beep beep~ and they'll continue thinging it forever jutht becauthe...Thith ith the thong that doethn't end, it jutht goeth on and on my friend. Thome people tharted thinging it not knowing what ith wath and "...Cyril bro?" they'll continue thinging it forever jutht becautheThith ith the thong that doethn't end, it jutht goeth on ~beep beep~and on my friend. Thome people tharted thinging it not knowing what ith wath and they'll continue thinging it forever jutht becauthe...Thith ith the thong that doethn't end, it jutht goeth on and on my friend. Thome people tharted thinging it not knowing what ith wath and they'll continue thinging it forever jutht becauthe...Thith ith the thong that doethn't end, it jutht goeth on and on my friend. ~beep beep~Thome people tharted thinging it not knowing what ith wath and they'll continue thinging it forever jutht becauthe...Thith ith the thong that doethn't end, it jutht goeth on and on my friend. Thome people tharted thinging it not knowing "...gorram it, Cyril..."what ith wath and they'll continue thinging it forever jutht becauthe...Thith ith the thong that doethn't end, it jutht goeth on and on my friend. Thome people tharted thinging it not knowing what ith wath and they'll continue thinging it forever jutht becauthe...Thith ith the thong that doethn't end, it jutht goeth on and on my friend. Thome people tharted thinging it not knowing what ith wath and they'll continue thinging it forever jutht becauthe... ~beep beep~Thith ith the thong that doethn't end, it jutht goeth on and on my friend. Thome people tharted thinging it not knowing what ith wath and they'll continue thinging "Trying to sleep, Cyril." it forever jutht becauthe...Thith ith the thong that doethn't end, it jutht goeth on and on my friend. Thome people tharted thinging it not knowing what ith wath and they'll continue thinging it forever jutht becauthe...Thith ith the thong that doethn't end, it jutht goeth on and on my friend. Thome people tharted thinging it not knowing what ith wath and they'll continue thinging it forever jutht becauthe...Thith ith the thong that doethn't end, it jutht goeth on "What? WHAT?! Fuck is it, Cyril?" and on my friend. Thome people tharted thinging it not knowing what ith wath and they'll continue thinging it forever jutht becauthe...Thith ith the thong that doethn't end, it jutht goeth on and on my friend. Thome people tharted thinging it not knowing what ith wath and they'll continue thinging it forever jutht becauthe...Thith ith the ~beep beep~ thong that doethn't end, it jutht goeth on and on my friend. Thome people tharted thinging it not knowing what ith wath and they'll continue thinging it forever jutht becauthe...Thith ith the thong that doethn't end, it jutht goeth on and on my friend. ~beep beep~Thome people tharted thinging it not knowing what ith wath and they'll continue thinging it "Holy Mother of FUCK, Cyril!" forever jutht becauthe..."

Bridgette was awake now. Oh yes, she was awake. "What in Odin's Cornrowed Nutsack is it, Cyril?" The exasperation in her face was as evident as her confusion. Cyril didn't usually pull this kind of a stunt first thing in the morning. Not unless he was hungry. Or he saw a squirrel. Or he forgot the code to the Cortex Terminal. ~beep beep~Okay, this was exactly the kind of thing he might do. Bridgette fought hard to swallow her rising anger back down. Her little brother was a good guy, just a little damaged. But damn, she wanted to sleep more. It wasn't until she took a breath and blew the hair out of her eyes that she noticed a quiet beeping noise emanating from her pack nearby. ~beep beep~

Stopping, Cyril looked over to Bridgette and grinned brightly as his lips rolled in. "Jericho wanted a thong," he said innocently, his lisp heavy as he spoke in the voice of a child. Raising his hand, there was a gray sock on it, buttons sewn in as eyes. ~beep beep~It was Jericho. Moving his hand, the puppet spoke. "That's right bitch, I wanted a song, gotta problem with it?" The voice that came out of Cyrils lips for Jericho as the puppet open and closed its mouth on Cyrils hand was deep, baritone, and nearly evil sounding. ~beep beep~

The deeper voice from Cyril was met with the extension of Bridgette's middle finger. She hated speaking to and/or with that fucking puppet, especially first thing in the morning. With a voice that begged for coffee, the surly blonde addressed Cyril, "Yeah. Thanks for that." No problem. She had something pressing to deal with at the moment anyway.~beep beep~ "Answer the phone cunt." Bridgette sleepily recovered her device from her pink, neko kitty travel pack. She tapped in the unlock code and checked her alerts. Someone had left her a message. It wasn't but a few seconds of video, but she knew the lady who sent it. It had been a while. "Thumper? Oh..." It had been a while. "Clam up, Cyril. I have to open a channel."

Cyril got up off the flood and clamored over to Bridgette, leaning over her and sticking his face near the screen. "Oooo, pretty lady."

"Yeah, pretty lady." agreed Bridgette, an understanding tone to her voice that was developed fairly recently. "I did some business with her people a while back. You know how this works: I talk shop, you stay quiet, and I introduce you to them later." She nodded knowingly, adding, "Hey, how about you get your stuff together while I answer this, huh? Then we can go get some breakfast."

"Can I have a fluffernutter thandwich?" Cyril asked as he turned his head to look at his sister, his eyes growing wide with excited anticipation.

"Sure, Cyril." she answered, slipping on an agreeable smile. "Just be quiet while I do this. Okay?"

Cyril was giddy, giving his sister a big hug over the shoulder and kiss on the cheek before darting off. Rushing over to his trunk and getting all the fixings he needed to make the most awesome sandwich in the 'Verse - The Fluffernutter!

Bridgette sighed and shook her head. He was a handful, no doubt about it. But most of the time he meant well. Cyril was just a kid in many ways, and he came with his own unique set of challenges. Fortunately, with baby brother busy, she could answer the wave. She knew Anisa well enough to know that she didn't have to get all dolled up to receive a transmission from her, even if it was business. She did take the time to brush her hair fully out of her face before tapping "Accept", and opening conversation. "Dear and shiny fuck, Anisa. It's been a while." She noticed that the video quality was unusually clear for a wave, but decided to bring that up after she found out the nature of the discussion. "How's biz?"

Cyril crossed his legs and sat down indianstyle, a spoonful of marshmallow fluff in his mouth as he unscrewed the lid to the peanut butter. Jericho was still on his hand, the one holding the spoon, so at least the foulmouthed little bastard was quiet right then and not causing a ruckus.

"Alive and not arrested, so as well as can be expected but that's not why I am contacting you. Thumper has you down as his emergency contact," Anisa said not wanting to beat around the bush. She had dealt with Bridgette before and the woman wasn't for shallow flattery and small talk from what she had seen. "Preachers dead."

Bridgette was with Anisa for the first sentence. She did appreciate the fact that Anisa got down to business on the quick; it saved everybody time and effort. The nature of the conversation threw her no short amount of confusion, however. "Shame about Preacher. Really. Good man. No one can throw a bible or pound shitty booze like him, but um... if you can give me a sec to process? Why in the imprecise and unruly fuck am I his emergency contact? He doesn't have a family someplace? A fucking church?

Anisa simply nodded and leaned back in her seat. Her eyes cast sideways towards Harper for a moment as she waited for Bridgette to process the situation. Cyril in the meantime still had the spoon in his mouth, but his hands this time were smushing the sandwich together before he spit the spoon out on the plate. "Bridgette you want one?" he asked, completely unaware of what was going on.

As professionally as she could, Bridgette bid Anisa a quick, "Excuse me." and looked to Cyril. No thank you, Cyril. Remember, I'm on a wave right now? We'll talk after." It was day and night compared to how she was with almost everyone else. "Mmmkaymmm," Cyril said with a mouthful as he nodded his head in understanding. That changed when she returned to the conversation at hand. "Alright, alright... What the ass do you need from me? Secure his body? Sell off his shit? Do gorram uncomfortable things to the suicidal fuckwit that killed him? Something involving the words 'hydrogen torch' and 'rectum' maybe? Huh?" Meanwhile, Harper returned Anisa's sideways look, now amazingly curious about the people who regularly did business with his new Captain.

Anisa smirked a bit as she took a pull from her half burned away cigarette before looking back at Bridgette. "I'll take options A and B. Don't know about C yet. Autopsy is pending on cause of death." Tapping the cigarette on the ashtray she locked eyes with Bridgette. "And to hire your ass."

The vulgar lady took a mental step back. Securing a body, that was easy. Dealing with his effects, same. But now the question of hiring her on? She reviewed her finances, what little she had on standby. She and Cyril were running low on funds, and they had finished their last gig doing some simple, short-term farrier duties. They needed to find work anyway, and with someone who would understand her situation with Cyril. She couldn't effect a big change without him now. Not for a while yet. "If you're hiring me, you might be expecting shit from some very bad people. I fucking adore you for being straight with me like this, so I'll return the favor." She looked up to make sure that Cyril was doing okay, which he was as he was sitting there with a mouth full of Flutternutter while watching Miss Sally, then settled back into the conversation, "First, Shepherd's been a part of your crew for a long time. I'm taking his spot, so I want his share. That work?"

Anisa let out a breath of smoke and leaned forward some in her seat. First meant there was a second. "Depends. Drop the other shoe woman." She had to hear the other half before she gave an answer.

"Yeah. Here's that other shoe... I have a brother, okay? Big guy, sweetheart, fucking powerful. Champion level boxer - our dad trained him right." Bridgette sighed. She lowered her voice, "Got some head trauma, like, bad. 'Should have died' kind of bad, okay? Fucking docs just weren't good enough to put him back..." She paused to clear her throat, "He's slow. When the fighting starts, he's a gorram juggernaut, but mostly he's like a kid. He listens to me. He's my family. And we're a package deal. Half share for him?"

"Thith ith the betht Mith Thally epithode ever." The puppet looked at Bridgette and then back at Cyril. "Its always the best Miss Sally ever." Bridgette arched an eyebrow in his direction, then quickly fixed her attention back to Anisa on her terminal.

Leaning back in her seat Anisa flicked the cigarette, knocking some of the ashes off in the small bowl by the screen. That was an interesting turn of events. Two for the price of 1 and a half. She doubted Bridgette was pulling her leg, but still thinking of Bridgette as the loving motherly type to her kid brother was a bit of an out of left field thing. Taking another drag from the cigarette before snuffing it out she sat up straight. "Preachers share for you, six months test for the brother. He works out then he gets half share. Until then, consider his food and bunk his pay."

"His own bunk?" Bridgette asked cautiously.

Blowing the smoke out she nodded as she dropped the cigarette into the tray. "Yeah. His own bunk."

A smile played across Bridgette's face, widening into a grin that was, in a word, unsettling. Quiet, bubbling laughter began, which she tried to stifle with marginal success. The fact that Anisa wanted her on board and was willing to give someone she hadn't met a six month trial, meant that this wasn't just for a job or two, but as a permanent member of her crew. Even if it didn't work out, six months in the Black with Anisa's people was hardly a waste of time. She had a reputation of getting the job done, whatever it was. "Oh, you've got yourself a deal, lady." Indeed she did. "Now, I cant help but notice that your signal is clear as hell, so you must be in the Georgia system somewhere. We need to meet up a-fucking-sap."

"Newhope. So, do I funeral Thumper or pick you up so you can to do it?" in the background Cyril had finished his show and was rummaging through his trunk, one hand out as Jericho kept looking around. Thankfully this was out of sight of the camera so Anisa had no idea what she was getting herself into.

"Look, um... full disclosure here? I don't have a fucking clue why I'm his emergency contact. Not a fucking clue. You guys know him better than I ever did. I'll try to get to you as soon as I can for the funeral - good news is that I'm on Newhope, too. Found lodging near some seedy tourist stop called "Lady Luck", might as well advertise the watered-down booze and two-for-one backalley abortions. You know, the kind of spot that should give away STD meds just for walking in the door?"

Anisa snorted slightly as a grin came to her lips. "Yeah, I know the place," she said without going into detail about Atticus getting kicked out of a prostitutes bed the day before or her pointing a gun at her former pilot.

Harper remained silent for the whole of the talk so far, trying hard not to let his face show much while listening to the most intensely nonstandard business negotiation he had ever been party to, ever. The occasional glance to Anisa led him to believe that the woman was legitimate, but he still felt it best to keep quiet.

"Thith ith the thong that doethn't end, it jutht goeth on and on my friend, thome people tharted thining it not knowing what ith wath and they'll continue thinging it forever jutht becauthe thith ith the thong..." Cyril began in again, this time spinning around on his rearend on the floor.

Bridgette picked up a paper wrapper from off her nightstand, wadded it, and tossed it at Cyril. Jericho turned quickly and eyed Bridgette as Cyril kept singing. She pointed at her terminal, indicating that she was still talking to someone. But it was time to call it quits until they got to their new job anyway, so she attempted to wrap it up right then. "Hey! We have terms! Message over your ship and docking info, we'll be along in an hour or so. Okay, fucking brilliant. One more thing - that quiet piece of twatcandy you got sitting with you? He part of the contract?" She was giggling in a way that seemed half predatory and half joking.

Anisa nodded and stood up, leaning over slightly as she looked into the console. "Yeah, he's part of a contract. Mine," she said with a smirk. "See you in an hour." With that she cut connection and finally let out a bit of a laugh. Looking over at Harper the smirk remained. "Be glad we don't have communal showers for upper deck bunks, otherwise you might end up being Berthas bitch."



Jahosafat Moreau

Location: Prometheus: Lower Deck: Medical (6)
Skills: Medical, Social Sciences(Psych), Life Sciences (Bio), Investigate

Jahosafat stood there and looked over to Dorothy, giving her a nod. "It would be an honor Doctor," he said in a kind voice. He could understand not wanting to perform an autopsy on someone one knew. If it had been his ivory brother from another mother he knew he would be on the other side of the operating table taking notes instead of making incisions. It was just how things were. It wasn't always this good. Death was never good but much of the time in situations like this, there was only one doctor on hand to be able to perform such things. This was a rare opportunity there where two doctors on hand.

Picking up the scalpel, Dr. Moreau made the first cut. Stating what he was doing as he went, he cracked open the chest and used the rib spreaders to give himself room to move. He started with the lungs and then moved on to the heart. The minutes ticked by and the lungs showed no sign of issue yet when he got to the heart it was obviously enlarged, even to the naked eye. Removing it, he weighed it and rattled off the weight in grams before placing it down and starting to cut into it. It didn't take long to find the cause of death.

It wasn't anything nefarious. There was no foul play. The man had had a heart attack. A widow maker. It was as simple as that. Life style and perhaps some genetics has factored together to drop the Preacher and make him meet his maker. It was both a relief and saddening. A relief simply because they didn't have to be afraid that someone had killed him but sad because he did it to himself. the way he ate, drank, it aged him far faster than if he had lived differently. Yet there were worse ways to go. This was quick, clean.

"Please inform the Captain of our results. Do you know if the man had a will?" he asked simply. He didn't want to prepare the body if it was against the Preachers final wishes. Hopefully a will would answer some questions. Dorothy would know he had one. Anisa had all the crew of long term standing do one so she knew what to do in times like these.
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Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Morose
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Morose ✨Krakoan Princess✨

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Dorothy Pender


Location: Prometheus: Lower Floor: Medical
Skills: Perception, Medicine, Life Sciences, Discipline

"Thank you, Doctor," Dorothy replied cordially. She kept her voice even and calm, though internally she felt anything but. She could imagine the results they were going to find, based on Atticus' lifestyle, yet she also feared that he may have been poisoned or something along those lines. They had just brought in a lot of new untested crew - even one who had broken onto their ship in search of something yet to be revealed. Truthfully, her strongest desire was to punch Atticus, as if that would somehow revive his corpse or make him feel the pain she was feeling.

Instead, she quietly took notes, recording everything that Jahosafat relayed to her and then some. She recorded the cause of death on the paper and a single tear fell, which she had been struggling to hold back. She blinked her eyes, not wanting to touch her face with gloves on whilst an autopsy was underway. "Y-yes, he had a will, I'll go an' tell the Cap'n right now." She walked over to the intercomm and opened a private channel to the bridge. "Anisa? It was n-natural causes, ma'am. Widow maker...Do you have the copy of the will?"
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Sigil
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Sigil Literary Hatchetman

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Foy Coiffeur

Location: Prometheus (Jahosafat's Quarters -> Foy's Quarters)
Skills: Perception


The secret truths which were to be found within the felt and stitching of Foy's very fine hat were not as forthcoming as he would have liked on that morning. There was very little to say just then, likewise there was very little to do. This was a waiting game, pure and simple. Which was to say that, given his options, the indomitable spirit of the Gentleman Barber was better suited to a comfortable, slightly more neutral location. He had sated his curiosity as to the extent and quality of Jahosafat's collection of hats quite well, replaced everything in proper order (as a gentleman might), and it was time to move on.

Foy stood and straightened his black, silk tie, making sure that the platinum pin was secure and centered. Just because he wasn't going out that hour, there was no reason to look sloppy. He twirled his bowler hat around in his hands but once, exited the room of his childhood friend, and quietly closed the door behind him. The short walk from the door back to his Parlor gave him a few seconds to think while not being distracted by things of greatness like hats and wrapped candies, bespoke apparel, and masterful engraving upon the intricate, interlocking pieces of a worthy firearm. Sadly, he did not like what came to his brain unbidden when such things let them. "That confounded Shepherd..." he murmured to himself. He was hoping that the man would be alright. Atticus seemed to be quite the jovial fellow. His social standing might even be forgivable, considering his presumed standing with what society agreed was a rather likely hereafter, coupled with a Vow of Poverty. "My word," he said aloud, pausing his steps for a moment, "What a positively scandalous proposition: Intentionally vowing to be poor. Why, it flies in the face of appropriate business sense, indeed!"

Foy even suppressed a laugh. Curious that he would find it funny. Curiouser that he would have his mind focused upon Atticus at that point in time, as well. It occurred to him that he actually liked the odd fellow. He was in dire need of a wardrobe upgrade, had some odd thoughts about the class system, but he genuinely seemed a likeable man. Well, better to shake those thoughts away for the time being. Medical personnel were seeing to him and his fate would be determined without any input from him, in the long and short of things.

Instead of investing more worry into the situation, Foy took it upon himself to return to his quarters and give his personal arsenal a once-over. Inspect for spotting and sights. Inventory ammunition. He had acquired a couple of new items with which he wished to familiarize himself. One was not a weapon; it was Captain Quinn's personal earpiece transmitter. The other was most assuredly a weapon, and a classic one at that. A Mosin-Nagant 91/30 rifle, long range and capable of filling both infantry and (even better suited to) sniper roles. It was an older model, naturally; one does not become a classic by being new. Nevertheless it has a reputation for being monstrously accurate at very long ranges. Foy only wished he had the time to stop by a gunsmith or vendor to pick up some very standard accessories before their departure. Well, something else to look forward to, he supposed.

Still, his "walking around" stash was formidable, as could be seen clearly from outside of his quarters. He had left the door open again, much like in Jahosafat's room while he was still in it. There was no need for secrecy among these people, at least about this. If they all fulfilled their roles properly and in concert with each other to best get their jobs done, they would all learn what the others could do. This was merely a reflection of part of his skill set. Laid out for inspection in his personal quarters was his gunbelt containing a pair of custom Colt Pythons, in short order a fully assembled Callahan Fullbore Auto-Lock with its varied, demolition worthy ammunition, and of course the recently acquired 91/30 Sniper Rifle. He would have preferred more options given his circumstances, but this was a start.

Foy's next bit of time was spent inspecting and maintaining his weapons, hopefully to complete prior to takeoff. Every so often, one might notice him twirling the tips of his elegant and very masculine moustache, a triumph of facial accessories across the 'Verse.



William Harper

Location: Prometheus (Bridge)
Skills: Computers


Harper sat staring at the vid screen for a few seconds after the signal cut, using the time to take in what had just happened. Anisa was a frightening woman when she wanted to be, in a stern, authoritative way. The woman she had just finished speaking with was equally frightening in his mind, but in a manner that implied violent instability. He hoped that he was wrong about this. The short talk he was privy to kicked off a few internal warning signs, like a flaring of the survival instinct he had picked up during his residence at that God forsaken penal colony in the Halo field. The feeling was mellowed somewhat by the fact that she seemed to have a completely separate personality for someone off camera, indicating to him a core of decency beneath what was overtly presented, or a weakness to exploit if things got really bad.

Concerning the last words that Anisa spoke, specifically concerning the possibility of being the new girl's bitch, Harper set a quizzical expression and shrugged, saying, "She is a lot prettier than the last person who attempted it, at least." His tone suggested bitter recollection. It had been a long time since he was considered a target by aggressive ne'er-do-wells locked away in a big steel can. Harper had learned his lessons quickly and painfully, however. Before his unintended release, people learned to leave him the hell alone. Mostly.

But that woman looked really, really strong.

Harper straightened in his seat, putting on the air of a dutiful Lieutenant. "I am sending Miss Vinters the ship and docking information she requested, Captain. If you'd prefer, I will stay on the bridge for a while longer to receive any additional communication she might have. We are otherwise primed for departure at your order, Ma'am."



Bridgette Vinters

Location: Crappy Lodging (Near Lady Luck)
Skills:


The second that the signal was dropped, Bridgette rolled onto her side with sputtering laughter. Whoever that guy was sitting with Anisa, he probably needed to lighten the hell up. And so long as she was thinking about it, good on Cap'n Crowe for finding someone to cross her eyes and test out her vocal cords every now and again. No reason she couldn't share, Bridgette figured, but most people just weren't like that out in the wider 'Verse. Their loss.

Her terminal signaled her once again. This time, it was a basic data file labelled "Courtesy of the Captain", giving basic information about a ship docked not too far from her location. Bridgette expected to see very familiar info, but was surprised to note that this was very much not the Vengeance. Had something happened? Anisa loved that ship, she thought. It was her home. And a half-decent mechanic could keep a Firefly in the Black indefinitely, given some time to work. Bridgette had a little experience with mechanics herself. It wasn't her main forte, but she could probably keep something as reliable as a Firefly limping until it could be seen by more experienced people. This ship though? It wasn't even a Firefly vessel at all. "J'vla helvete, she got a gorram Dragonfly? What the ass is a Dragonfly? ...whatever. In the long run, it didn't matter. Anisa was an experienced Captain who wasn't going to voluntarily get junk. She had a position lined up for her that paid, and apparently senior staff kind of paid if she was taking Atticus's share, plus some personal space for Cyril. She was taking it.

"Hey, Cyril?" she called over to her brother, who was in the middle of... ok, so he was spinning around on his ass singing that song again. She didn't want to deal with this. "Pack up, Cyril!" she said cheerfully. "I got us a gig on a ship! Regular meals, better living spaces, oh and get this Cyril: Your own bunk. It's not going to be very big, but it's only you in there if you want to be alone, alright? Well, unless the Captain says different, but I know her. It'll be okay. We just have to work for her." Bridgette nodded her head, giving Cyril a soft smile. She definitely wasn't like this with anybody else. Hurry up and get ready to move, we have to be there in one hour. Come on."

In truth, it was going to take less than an hour to get to this new ship, "Prometheus". But she did want to make sure she got everything together and grabbed something to eat along the way. Cyril might be fine with Fluffernutter this early in the morning, but Bridgette was not. And if they were going to meet some new people, as implied by the presence of that unknown man with Anisa, she wanted to put on a proper first impression. The vast majority of her belongings were still packed away in a very large utility trunk propped up on wheels. A couple of tools lay about which were easily stashed, her terminal, as well as a few articles of clothing. The remainder of her stuff - her working and functional gear - she intended to have on her person.

First, she pulled a pair of work boots on over kneehigh, rainbow colored socks, tying down the fat, pink laces with hurried double knots. She had passed out in her brown cargo pants and black tank top the night before, so that made things easier. From the trunk, she acquired and donned a set of secure armor, vaguely resembling Alliance gear but lighter, more form fitting, and grey-black in color. After clipping on the extremity pieces, she slipped the collapsible helmet onto her belt clip and began buckling on her gunbelt. This gunbelt was built with shotguns in mind; two of them in fact. Short barreled over/under hand cannons and enough shells to make things interesting in most any social affair. Most folks might pack a revolver, but not so Bridgette. Half the time, she didn't even want to have to aim. She slipped a nasty looking seax into the back of her belt, one that she crafted herself. And there pretty much ended any connection she had with the modern 'Verse in equipment.

A roundshield, three feet or so across leaned against the wall along side a broad, seven-foot long hewing spear. The shield itself was an up to date protective device made with materials of the day; ballistic and impact trauma accounted for in great detail. Bridgette paused for a moment, deciding first to garb herself with a great mantle, long enough to be considered a cloak, made of thick, white bear fur. She took up the spear, gave it a heft, and watched expectantly as the shaft seamlessly shortened by three feet. It clipped onto a firmpoint on the back of her shield, which she then slung across her back with a reinforced leather strap. Bridgette felt her ears and neck to make sure her torc, earrings, and ear cuffs were straight and centered. Then, as a final touch of intimidation, smeared a bit of red facepaint across her chiseled yet unmistakably feminine features.

"Let's get out of here, Cyril. I want to get some breakfast before we meet up with the ship." She smiled at her little brother. He might not deserve what he has to endure in his life now, but she wanted to make sure he didn't have to endure much more. Everybody else was either friend or fodder as far as she was concerned. Bridgette grabbed the extended handle of her utility case and strode to the door.

She indeed looked quite the mercenary.

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Mei QiĂĄo

Location: Galley -> Bridge
Skills: N/A


Mei didn't really know what to do with herself now. She was still unsure if she had free range of the ship and she didn't want to step on the Captain's toes on her first day. Plus with the Preacher's incident, she was sure tension was high and she didn't want to add to that unnecessarily. Still, though, she was expecting more from this ship. After all, didn't they have a job?

She finished her coffee and decided she may as well see if she could be of any use. Unsure where the Captain would be at this point, she went around the ship, poking her head around until it was made clear to her that the Captain was on the Bridge. What she was doing there, no one knew.

She made her way inside just as Harper spoke. They had someone else coming on board the ship? Did that mean.....

Before they could turn and notice her just standing there, she knocked on the side of the entrance. "Captain, Harper. Pardon my intrusion, but I was wondering if there was anything you need of me at this current time? I've been meaning to explore the ship and gauge its infrastructure so I know the important details about it should we ever be attacked, but if you have a need of me, I'd rather make myself available to you."



Jacqueline Croix

Location: Hallway Outside Bedrooms
Skills: N/A


Jackie had to stifle a giggle at Fitz's mumblings. He really did have a thing for the Ditz. It seemed he was dreaming in LaLa land and Jackie thought it best not to break him out of it just yet. "Yeah, let him enjoy his dreams for now. Let's get him over there. They should be done with Jesus Freak soon." Jackie picked up one end of Fitz, having the Ditz on the other side as they made there way towards the medical area.

"Been meaning to ask you actually. Far be it from me to pry into people's lives, but I did happen to see all of that occur in the Lady Luck before I was privileged to join the crew. If you don't mind me asking, what happened? I'll probably hear about it anyway, but I'd rather it come from the source itself, if you get my drift."
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by BlueSky44
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Daphne Pender

Location: Prometheus: Lower Deck: Single Top (7)
Skills: None


Daphne nodded in agreement, he was definitely out of it or something when it came to being unconscious, and she wasn't too sure how to react to his mumblings. They made absolutely no sense, but of course, he was passed out or whatever, so it did make sense for him to not be making any sense. Now she was starting to wish that she had paid more attention to her sister when she was talking about medical things or whatever, so it would make more sense to her. She picked up Fitz on the other side, and started heading to medical.

"Well... We were doing a job, got attacked by Reavers after crashing onto Whitefall... Nearly got killed a bunch of times, a few members of the crew did die, one of them being the Captain's friend or whatever... So the whole thing at Lady Luck, not to mention I had wandered away for not too long or whatever, kind of pissed the Captain off. Pretty sure the only reason I'm not dead is because my sister is her friend and second in command, that answer your question?" Daphne responded.
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The Captain couldn't help but smirk a bit at the comment. "I would imagine most are," she said as she spun around in the chair and stood up. This was a hell of a way to start the day. Atticus was dead, and Bridgette had just been hired. Bridgette was an interesting person to say the least and not one she would have normally considered but she was running out of people she knew and trusted. Jackson, Camilla, and Atticus were all dead. Of her original crew only Dorothy and Daphne were left. Daphne had proven to be someone she couldn't count on and her attitude had gotten out of control. Dorothy while she trusted her, could leave at any moment. She needed someone she knew, someone she could count on to have her back. Bridgette was loyal, Bridgette could handle shit. It made her the logical choice.

With a dollop of marshmallow fluff hanging at the corner of his mouth Cyril he looked over at Bridgette. "We're lweaving?" he said innocently as he clamored to his feet. Rushing over to her, his eyes were wide. "And I get my very own bunk?" he said before giving Bridgette a huge hug. Running back to his things he started packing up quickly. "You hear that Jericho, we're getting our very own room!"

Jahosafat stepped over to the sink and washed his hands after nodding slightly to Dorothy. He spotted the tear and wanted to wipe it away for her but that would have been crossing a line, at least right at this moment. Instead he washed his hands as she called up to the bridge to notify Anisa.

Hearing the cause of death was a bit of a relief. It meant she didn't have to hunt down a murder. "Yeah, it should be in his foot locker. Check it to see what the hell he wants us to do with his body and let Moreau know," she said before taking a breath. "And we have two new people joining the crew in an hour. Fuck, have Coiffeur get quarters 8 Top and 8 Top Center ready for new arrivals. Figure his ass is the best at that shit for now."

Jahosafat chuckled to himself. Foy? Playing welcoming maid? Oh if he only had the time to go watch that scene unfold. That would be fucking priceless. Looking over towards Dorothy though, the thought left his mind. "If you would prefer I can fetch the will and give you a moment alone to say goodbye before I begin." It was an offer so that she wouldn't have to be alone in the mans quarters.

Closing his trunk, Cyril sat down and pulled his knees up to his chest. They were going somewhere else new. Cyril didn't like new places usually, but if he was getting his own room maybe it meant they were going to be in the same place for a while. He had been so excited that he hadn't even spoken through Jericho in the last bit while he was packing up. When Bridgette called at him he gave her a goofy grin. "Rweady Bridge," he said as he stood up and yanked the trunk up, placing it on his back and walking over to her. "I think I ate too much fluffernutter."

Shaking her head she heard the bridge door slide and glanced that way. It was Mei. Closing off the channel to Dorothy Anisa looked over to her. "Unfortunately Preacher didn't make it. Heart attack. Departure will be waiting until this afternoon. Can't wait longer than that," she said looking between Mei and Harper. "We still have a job to do. Harper alert me when Vinters arrives," she said before sending out a ship wide broadcast. "All non-medical report to the galley NOW," she said in a stern voice before closing the com.

"I need to inform the rest of the crew what is happening then we can speak privately Mei," she said before leaving the bridge.
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Dorothy Pender


Location: Prometheus: Lower Floor: Medical
Skills: Discipline

Dorothy nodded. "Understood, Captain," she said in a steady voice, having received Anisa's instructions. She took a breath before opening up a channel to Foy's quarters. "Mr. Foy, please get quarters 8 Top and 8 Top Center ready for new arrivals," Dorothy said, before she switched and repeated the same message to the Foy-er. She wasn't sure which location he'd be in, but if he didn't respond to her message quickly, she'd try some of the more common gathering areas - or at least, what she assumed would become common gathering areas on the new (at least to them) ship.

She then looked at Jahosafat, thinking over his offer. She had an odd sort of request that she wanted to make regarding Atticus' burial - assuming he wanted to be buried. She wanted to take her most commonly thrown biology book and place it in the tomb with him. While to others it would have seemed childish, Dorothy couldn't help but feel calmed by the thought of it. And of course, she realized Jahosafat was sparing her from having to enter Atticus' quarters, but she'd have to retrieve her medical texts from it at some point. And return the Bibles he had chucked in her room that she hadn't had a chance to return since the move to the new ship.

"...Alright," Dorothy agreed simply. She then heard Anisa's voice over the comm and really hoped that everyone from the old crew at least would go to the meeting - meaning Daphne. (At this rate, it was like the entire crew had been cursed, dying one by one in Dorothy's opinion). But truthfully, it was because she knew her sister didn't get along with Atticus and Dorothy wasn't sure how to tell Daphne just yet that Atticus, a man she realized she was fond of, had died.

Fitz Townsley


Location: Prometheus: Lower Deck: Single Top (7) ---> being carried to Medical
Skills: None

Somewhere, in the land between unconsciousness and consciousness, henceforth dubbed as Fitz-land, the nervous engineer heard a word with a jolt. Reavers! His heart started to pound and he started to flail, vaguely aware that he was being carried somewhere. The vision of Isaac Newton having tea with him vanished and he was staring up at the ceiling of the ship. The word flittered through his mind again. Reavers! And then, then there was the alert - to have all non-medical personal go to the galley!

"Wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-what? R-r-r-r-reavers?" Fitz stammered. He flailed about so much that he actually caused Jackie and Daphne to drop him, landing on his butt on the floor but he was too panicked to even care. All he knew was that somehow, he had Reavers on the brain. And then with an angry sounding announcement from Anisa - who terrified him - he was beginning to imagine that she was going to feed them to Reavers.
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Foy Coiffeur

Location: Prometheus (Foy's Quarters -> Galley)
Skills: Perception


Ah yes, of course. The Second. Foy had most assuredly made his deal with Anisa concerning the actions that he would take and who he would allow to order him about, but this... Okay, it made sense. Foy was, at least on the "extended temporary", naught but a face on board a mid-bulk transport vessel. Merely a well groomed man-at-arms, such as the profession still existed in one form or another, and subject to the same share of, of manual labor as everyone else, unless they were to procure some manner of physically imposing stooge; a true Brick of a man, to fill said role. Until then, the Prometheus had to deal with the dapper grace and charming dexterity of Mr. Foy.

And what was that about "Mr. Foy"? It seemed rather that he was in the Navy. Well, he kind of was, once upon a time, but that was long ago. And no one called him "Mr. Foy". Ever. "Mr. Foy..." he mused aloud, trying out the syllables on his tongue. It sounded so provincial. Eh, he could live with it. He casually stepped over to the faceplate to his room's PA and keyed in the option indicating Medical. "Indubitably, Miss Pender. I should be more than satisfied to attend to ... eh ... domestic associations, despite the pressingly pedestrian nature of it all. I should make note of a previous insistence, originating from our dear Captain that requires my presence in the Galley, and forthwith! Then I shall acquiesce to the mundane drudgery of squaring away quarters for whomever Captain Crowe has allotted them. And I am out, madame."

Though still technically indoors, Foy pulled on his suitcoat and bowler hat, eager to see to the day's business. With a spring in his step, the debonair Farradayan walked confidently from his room, turned down the corridor aft, and arrived with in the Galley/Lounge area with a slight, cocky smile.



William Harper

Location: Prometheus (Bridge)
Skills: Computers


At first, Harper didn't fully grasp the nature of Anisa's command. It seemed contradictory, telling him to inform her when the new lady (and he used that term, Lady, very loosely) had arrived. She was a double edged sword to Harper and they hadn't even met formally; obviously her skills and/or experience were required by the Captain now that she was down a crew member, though what she would have in common with Atticus was beyond Harper's capacity for rational thought. That wasn't quite his place to say, one way or another. He wasn't the guy in charge. He was just the guy that had to survive in the changing environment set before him.

But back to point, the request was to notify her the moment that this Vinters lady arrived, and simultaneously join her in the Galley, as he was non-medical crew. He puzzled on the proper way to handle it - perhaps he would rig the signal to broadcast into his personal earpiece whenever a wave was set to the ship. He had done something similar before. But then he regarded one word in her order: rest. The rest of the crew. Apparently, those present in the bridge didn't quite count among the number that had to be briefed about the Preacher, which made sense considering he was already present when Dorothy gave the update over the intercom. "Yes, Ma'am." he said absently in the direction of the bridge door, toward the exiting form of Anisa. That was his task now. Wait for the lady to arrive.



Bridgette Vinters

Location: Crappy Lodging (Near Lady Luck) -> Streets of Newhope Docks
Skills: N/A


"Alright, fuck... Hey, wipe your face, Big Guy." said Bridgette to her not-so-little brother. "You can't meet new people with a face full of marshmallow fluff, okay Cyril?" It was a good feeling, leaving their temporary abode behind. It was, in her opinion, a total shithole. In several people's opinion, more than probably. But life did not completely suck, aside from some only partially crippling issues with stability and a dwindling, uncertain supply of funds. Hopefully, work on board Prometheus would fix, well, one of those things.

Bridgette pulled her trunk behind her, its wheels occasionally clacking on uneven ground. She got the occasional stare, as she usually did. It was the cost of being her. The stares were quickly abandoned as she slyly gave the returning sideways glance and twisted smile, as a cat might when sizing up an errant gerbil. The Docks were coming up before them, with all the hustle and bustle associated. In a place such as that, even someone like her who generally stood out might find that they blended in.

As their walk continued, she caught sight of an older Sino couple that she actually knew. Small world indeed! She had sold them a riding horse that she had acquired when she first hit this rock, and dirt cheap, too. Hell, it was practically a steal. And they ran a small restaurant stall, right at the edge of the Docks! Yeah, they'd be more than adequate to sate her need for something wholesome in the morning. Bridgette veered her course in their direction, stomach practically roaring in anticipation.

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Jacqueline Croix

Location: Hallway Outside Bedrooms -> Galley
Skills: N/A


Jackie was kind of shocked to hear the Ditz share so effortlessly with her. She had a sense as to why Captain Ballcrusher was so angry with her. "Hell of a story there, gotta say. Sounds like quite an adventure before me and Fitzy boy here joined up. Hoping we don't run into trouble like that, but it would be fun!"

Before she knew it, Fitz had started moving and panicking, forcing Jackie to let go of him as he tumbled to the ground below. His panic-stricken face was so cute, she lost all anger she had. "There are no Reavers here, Fitz. At least I am pretty sure." Then Captain Ballcrusher made her announcement. Seems the day was finally starting.

"Though it seems we are being summoned. I suggest we get there urgently or we may be seeing those Reavers sooner than we'd like."



Mei QiĂĄo

Location: Bridge -> Galley
Skills: N/A


Mei listened quietly as Anisa spoke about what occurred. Of course, she had not gotten to know the Preacher, but still, a loss on a ship was no easy matter. Especially for the Captain of a vessel. Losing a crew member was like losing a limb. Even if the member was someone you may not have liked, it still dealt a blow. She wondered if the Captain felt this when she dismissed Daphne.

"Of course, Captain. I am truly sorry for the loss. We will speak when there is time permitting." She nodded her approval before glancing at Harper, wondering what the man felt about the situation. They would be getting a new member, it seemed. She didn't want to stand around wasting time, so she turned on her heel, heading towards the Galley.
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Jahosafat nodded as he unrolled the sleeves of his shirt. "I shan't be but a moment, I will close the door behind me," he said in an understanding voice before as fastened his cuff-links and headed for the door. Stepping outside he shut it so that she could have a moment to herself with out others being about. It seemed as if she could use some time. He heard the announcement go out but it didn't mean a hill of beans to him. He was medical so he wasn't needed. He figured it was to inform the rest of those aboard that Atticus had passed away.

Anisa nodded towards Mei, thankfully she seemed to understand how things needed to be right then. It was odd the woman had broken onto the other ship and been able to get away but she still had enough honor about her to come back and admit it. The Captain wasn't sure if she could trust her or not, if this coming clean was a play, but it was worth keeping her around to see how things played out. Granted Anisa had to deal with not knowing most of the crew she now had. That would take time but sadly time was not something they really had a lot of.

"Oh wow, there'th tho much, tho many loud noitheth," he said covering his ears and following Bridgette from their room and out into the city itself. He wiped his face with the back of his sleeve and kept waking, following his sister wide eyed. Sure he had seen everything before but for him everything was new again. It was the way his mind worked. As they found a place to eat he sat down but he wasn't hungry. Not right then, he had just had a bunch of fluffernutter. He was glad he did, he was pretty sure that whatever this place was serving he wouldn't as much as a fluffernutter sandwich.

Jahosafat rushed upstairs and too Atticus's quarters. The door opening and then closing behind him. The man was anything but neat and orderly. This was going to take a while. Just walking through the place was a land mine field. He seemed to have tones of bottles of booze out. Though it was obvious he hadn't drank them all the night before, looked like he had a bit of a collection. Stepping carefully he started looking around. He at first had found it odd that the man didn't have a digital will but then looking at his quarters, it seemed the man was a bit old fashion. Of course he was he had been a man of the cloth. It took a while but he finally found the will in a trunk, and a sealed envelope along with it. "This is most interesting," he said turning things over and then slipping them into his vest pocket.

Anisa made her way out of the bridge and over to the galley. Several were already there but some where not. Hitting the button on the com she sent out another message through out the ship. "If you aren't dead and aren't part of medical, you have roughly five seconds to get to the galley before I let Dr. Moreau perform experiments on you," she said before letting up on the com and having a seat in the galley.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by BlueSky44
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Daphne Pender

Location: Prometheus: Lower Deck: Single Top (7) -> Galley
Skills: None


"Don't worry Fitz, there aren't any Reavers around here, nothing to worry about at all. Though we probably should go see what the Captain is summoning everyone about, since we might as well be fighting Reavers if we don't show. Glad you've decided to wake up Fitz," she said, before she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to his feet. She gave him a smile, before looking at Jackie, "Let's get going then," she said simply.

Daphne headed to the galley, wondering if this had something to do with what the emergency that had called her sister away had been about. The whole thing still made her wonder, though she figured they'd all get some sort of explanation, you couldn't just make some sort of talk about an emergency and not explain things. She entered the galley, and looked at the others, but she kept her distance from Anisa, just waiting for her to start talking about things.
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Dorothy Pender


Location: Prometheus: Lower Floor: Medical
Skills: Discipline

Dorothy heard Foy's long winded acceptance of the job and she pinched the bridge of her nose. Jahosafat had already left the room and she had it to herself. Had she been in the mood, she might have playfully mocked Foy's decadent language with an overly verbose reply of her own, but her friend was dead. While Jackson's death had saddened her and so had Camilla's, Atticus' was hitting particularly close to home. "You were an idiot," she finally said, breaking the silence as she stared at Atticus' body. "A gorram drunkard. A man of extremes who dealt in vices and religion. Your lifestyle of indulgence is what killed you, Atticus."

But she paused, folding her hands neatly as she fell into a parade rest. "You were like my old man, Atticus. But the thing that set you twos apart was....was that you were just as kind as you were prideful, just as generous and selfless as you were lustful. You were a man of extremes but....you were my friend," Dorothy finished, her voice breaking a bit. She took a moment to compose herself again, but a tear had slid down her face anyways. "...I think I cared for you, Atticus," Dorothy finally whispered.

"Also...Related, but," she sniffled, "I guess I win the book war then. Unless you're intendin' on comin' back from the dead to chuck a bible at me. And uh....I think my sister might be dating some boy, could've used you to scare him, blow up his bunk or somethin'....So um...Yeah. Guessin' you've finally learned which one of us was right about what happens after death but uh, for what it's worth...I hope you were."

Fitz Townsley


Location: Prometheus: Lower Deck: In between Single Top (7) and Medical ---> Galley
Skills: None

"I-I-I-I th-thought you said there w-w-were no reavers!" Fitz stammered. He had considered swearing but he had been raised to believe that swearing was impolite. In addition, his mother told him that if he really were intelligent (and not the idiotic one of the twins), he would be able to express his frustrations without swearing. She never said anything like that to his sister, of course, but she was the prodigy. Everything was effortless to her and to Fitz, everything took sweat and determination. He didn't wake up one day understanding engineering. It took years of dedicated study and effort. He gave Daphne a stupid grin, despite still looking pale and terrified, as she pulled him to his feet.

However, the instant Anisa made the announcement about medical experimentation, he couldn't help but double time it. He practically ran alongside Daphne. He didn't think the captain was kidding - though he had to wonder what sort of doctor wanted to experiment on live subjects. And then it occurred to him - would the captain kill them first? And then let the doctor mess around with their corpses? He nearly fainted again at the thought as he took a seat next to Daphne in the galley, hoping that Jackie would keep that from happening to him.
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Foy Coiffeur

Location: Prometheus (Foy's Quarters -> Galley)
Skills: Perception


Mr. Coiffeur sat quietly in the midpoint seat of one of the tables in the Galley. He had somehow procured for himself yet another demitasse of rich, black coffee, but seemed to let it merely steam, resting upon a plain porcelain saucer. He was alone in that room for the first few moments, and spent them listening to himself breathe while staring at the vapors wafting away from his hot, black beverage. Smiling contentedly, Foy drew from the back of his belt a nigh comically oversized straightrazor, seemingly designed for purposes other than providing a close shave in proper, talented hands. Such was Foy.

He put one leg across the other, sitting in comfortable repose. The razor in his hands was utilized for nothing more than reflecting light from one spot to another. It was a thing of masterfully crafted, elegant beauty wrapped with cold intimidation. Absently, he trimmed the barest layer of epidermis from the edge of his thumb and then went back to merely regarding his favorite sharp implement with admiration.

It wasn't long until someone else arrived. Some two, point of fact. "Miss Croix, Miss Qiao," he said, closing his blade and setting it on the table before him. "Lovely to see you again this fine morning. And it most certainly is a fine morning, is it not? Medical emergency aside, naturally." In that moment, Anisa entered and, upon noting the lack of personnel in the room, gave her second address over the whole of the ship. "My, how positively scandalous..."



William Harper

Location: Prometheus (Bridge -> Galley)
Skills: Computers


Ok, it was distinctly possible that Harper had completely misjudged the nature of the order from Captain Crowe. Instead of the remainder of the crew showing up in the Galley for briefing, it was the entirety. This was not what he had in mind when making the call to stay within the confines of the Bridge and wait for this potential human trainwreck to manifest in front of the vessel. It probably was the proper course of action to head his narrow ass to the Galley, firstly because Anisa had offered up a pretty convincing argument as to why he should reconsider, and secondly because the angry lady was supposed to arrive in roughly one hour. It was quite possible, given all things considered, that the talk session with the crew would take less time than that. Better safe than sorry.

Harper hastily keyed the specifics of his earpiece comm into the ship's computer and left the Bridge at a jog. Hopefully, the device would now alert him in the event that they were being hailed or a non-shipwide alert sounded from the Bridge. In effect, it utilized his comm like one would a standard electronic paging device common to small crew ships like this one. There was likely already a pager somewhere on the Bridge, but right in that moment Harper had no idea where it might be. Task for tomorrow.

As he neared the archway at the end of the corridor to the Lounge/Galley area, Harper brought his jog down to a brisk walk. Entering, he intoned a quick, "Ma'am." and found a seat around the periphery of the others present.



Bridgette Vinters

Location: Streets of Newhope Docks
Skills: N/A


There was a small amount of anticipation as Bridgette approached the restaurant stall near the edge of the docks. It was the little things, as cliched as it was, that brought her joy. One such little thing was enjoying a simple and nourishing breakfast in the open air, even if that open air was around the Newhope docks. A brief exchange followed as Bridgette and the older couple exchanged pleasantries. They remembered the tall Aesir native, and with kindness as well. That was a rare concept, in her experience. Bridgette looked over to her little brother, whispering to him with an encouraging, "Hey, lemme know if you want anything, okay?"

Bridgette moved to place her order and reached into a pocket for enough local scrip to cover the cost, but the gesture was quickly waved away. She wasn't sure why they were being so kind; far be it for her to pass up a free meal, however. You take the breaks that come your way. Scanning through her options, Bridgette pointed to a bowl of rice pudding and a handful of juicy, seasoned strips of meat on sticks. She tore into the pudding first, attacking it with a decided lack of table manners bordering on wild abandon. To her credit, it was really good. But being fair, she wasn't the sophisticated, fork-on-the-right kind of girl anyhow.

When she got to the meat skewers, Bridgette was near speechless. Near. "Whoa... This is cuntslap fucking amazing. Can I have a couple more?" There was a light in her eyes that let slip that she was duly impressed with the meal, and in such a way that almost made up for the stunning display of vulgarity that had equal chances of being labeled Mental Illness or Superpower. Regardless, the older lady behind the counter smiled and gave her another handful. Bridgette pulled one off of the stick and shoved the whole thing into her mouth, chewing mightily. When she had gnawed through just enough to facilitate limited speech, she made a valiant attempt to do so. "I mean Jesus Fuck, I'd give a Reaver a handie for one of these. What's in it?"

The couple laughed, though a tad uneasily. After a couple of seconds discussing among themselves, the responded to their guest. "Fēicháng gǎnxiè qián jǐ tiān duì ròu de hǎo jiàgé."1

Bridgette was rather taken aback by the statement. That is to say, she didn't have a clue what they were talking about. "Um... huh?"

"Zhè ròu!"2, emphasized the man again, nodding his head with a grateful smile, "Xièxiè. Shíjiān hěn jiānnán, nǐ gěi wǒmen zúgòu de ròu, ràng wǒmen de shāngdiàn kāifàng yīgè yuè, fèiyòng."3 Both of them bowed low to Bridgette, expressing happy gratitude repeatedly. When they finally rose, the lady plunked a large mug of tea in front of Bridgette and Cyril both.

The Viking lady was stunned. She didn't sell them any meat, she sold them a... "Shit." It took her a second to realize that she had said it out loud. Bridgette sold them her horse just last week, but she thought they needed it for pulling carts or a gift for their grandkids or something. This just seemed wrong somehow. "I'm so sorry, Muffins." she whispered gently to her meat stick. Her eyes came up to meet theirs, unsure as to how she would proceed. The problem was, it was undeniably delicious.

The query of, "Nǐ hái hǎo ma?"4 snapped Bridgette out of it.

"Ah, fuck it." she responded nonchalantly. "Now a piece of her will always be with me. Can I get this to go?" And she would be damned if she was going to tell Cyril anything about this.

"...Muffins..."




Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by FantasyChic
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Mei QiĂĄo and Jacqueline Croix

Location: The Galley
Skills: N/A


Both Mei and Jackie entered the Galley at roughly the same time. The women glanced at one another before going to respective areas. Mei sat relatively far away from everyone, leaning against the wall, where she could keep an eye on everyone in the Galley, especially the Captain. Jackie sat close to Foy, mainly because she thought it would be entertaining. She was sure Fitz would want to sit with Daphne and she didn't want to interrupt their little love fest. Maybe they would dive under the table and start making out? That would be funny.

Mei nodded slightly at Foy, but she closed her eyes, awaiting the rest of the crew before they got briefed. Mei began silently speaking in her head, entering a low meditative state. It was important for her to do so before any mission and she was sure that whatever the Captain had to say would be the beginning of her work on this ship. They had a new crewmember coming on board after losing one. Mei, of course, did not trust this new person, even if it seemed like the Captain did (or at least, tolerated her enough to allow her to join). It was in her nature to distrust everyone.

Jackie, meanwhile, was quite awake. "And a good morrow to you as well Barber Boy." Jackie set, uncrossing her legs to a more comfortable position. She didn't enjoy sitting for long periods unless she was drinking or wiping the floor with someone at the poker table, and she doubted this situation would bring either of those to fruition. Instead, she entertained herself by eyeing the others around her. After all, she didn't have nicknames for everyone just yet and that just could not be. She was sure Captain Ballcrusher would be starting this little get-together soon and Jackie was just itching to do something than sit around a ship and catch two bumbling, hormonal crew members under the bed almost doing the deed.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Lady Absinthia
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There was a soft humming coming from Anisa as she took a stance and waited for the rest of the crew to make their way to the galley, at least the rest of those that needed to be there. The woman tended to hum to herself when she was in thought and right then she had many thing rushing through her mind. The crew had lost so many so quickly, Atticus was just the latest. And while she was stubborn Anisa wasn't cold, in fact she was rather soft hearted. Sure she could come off as a royal bitch but she had the good of her crew always at the forefront of her mind. That was why this was not going to be easy and she needed to find a way to put this sternly and with authority but also with compassion. It was not an easy balancing act.

Once everyone was there she blew her hair out of her face and cracked her knuckles. "As some are already aware, Atticus has passed away. I know some were afraid this was a murder but ain't none of that. The medical team has assured me this death was simply the result of Atticus' life style. His drinkin' and poor diet final done caught up with him." It was blunt but she hoped it would put people at ease enough to know that no one had been poisoned. It was obvious that Anisa felt pain because Atticus had died but she sucked it up and squared her shoulders.

"Because of this, there is goin' to be a change. His emergency contact will be coming shortly to claim the body. She will not be leavin' though. I have worked with her in the past and well we need more crew, crew I know and have worked with before. A Bridgette Vinters will taking Atticus' place. She ain't no preacher, brace yerself," she warned, giving a sideways glance towards Harper.

Before he could skedaddle back down to the Medical Bay, Jahosafat had to take a look at himself in the mirror and make a few adjustments. The man did enjoy looking his best, he was all that and a bag of chips. He looked at himself in the mirror as he adjusted his cuff-links, his head bobbing slightly to the music in his head. "You are a most dapper gentleman if there ever was one," he told himself as he turned his head this way and that. Oh yes, a find specimen indeed.

A skip of the step and off he went, back to the medical bay. The door sliding open just before he entered. He looked at Atticus on the table and then over to Dorothy. He could see in her eyes the man had meant something to her, perhaps it was for the best Atticus had died. He was far beneath Dorothy. Dorothy was refined, educated. She deserved someone of her status, not some drunken man of the cloth. At least he had died with a fine grooming. "This was addressed to you," he said as he pulled out the envelope from his pocket and held it out to her.



Cyril might have been looking around the place with much wonder right then but he was very perceptive, especially when it came to his sister. He leaned against his and grinned with thin lips. "Bridgette, itth okay, thmile!" he said before putting his thumb to his nose and flurbbing his lips towards her. He was so innocent sometimes. Much of the time in fact. He was loving and kind, didn't have a mean bone in his body, at least when he was Cyril. So, it couldn't have been much of a surprise when he took her hand and helped with the bags as they made their way towards the docks and found the ship.

Looking up at it with wonder his eyes widened and he dropped his trunk on the ground. "Wow, ith thith home?" he asked as his jaw went lack looking it over. It sure was nice, he could put tons of jars of fluffernutter in this ship. The sock on his hand moved slightly and came up. That fucking sock wasn't near as innocent as he was and it thought on a different level. "Where's the fucking door bell on this shit box?" it asked in a deep and dark voice as its button eyes leaned into Bridgette.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by BlueSky44
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Daphne Pender

Location: The Galley
Skills: None


Daphne wasn't usually one to sit still as she waited for the others to show up already, so she started tapping her fingers against the side of her leg, just waiting. She wasn't surprised that Fitz had hurried after her after she had left them, but she didn't say anything. Reaching into her pocket, she felt around for the ponytails that she kept there, her body was not wanting to stand still for her, but at least she knew to keep her mouth shut when Anisa was talking.

Pulling one of the hair ties out of her pocket, she started twirling it around in her hands, when she heard Anisa's words, and it almost caused her to drop it. Atticus was dead? The thought was a little hard to process, considering the fact that he had seemed perfectly fine the night before at the Lady Luck, and he was now gone. She clenched her hand into a fist, grasping the tie in her hand firmly, but she still didn't say anything. It made her wonder what was going through Dorothy's head right then.

Even though she knew her sister would never admit it to herself, she had suspected that Dorothy might have had feelings for Atticus in some way. She never brought the subject up in a conversation, knowing perfectly well that her sister would have denied it in some way. Though she probably would have just flat out said no or something similar. Daphne thought about Dorothy as she calmed down slightly upon hearing the news about Atticus, and just went back to twirling the ponytail that was in her hand. After this, she was going to see about talking to Dorothy about Atticus, confronting her about the whole thing.
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Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Sigil
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Foy Coiffeur

Location: Prometheus (Galley)
Skills: N/A


It was surprising to Foy that he was ever so slightly shocked by the news. He was no stranger to death; one might even say he had a career based upon the concept, but that was all it was, a concept. The dapper gentleman had functioned quite effectively as an Agent of the Alliance, and prior to this an officer in the Alliance Military. People under his command had died, as what happens in armed conflicts. Orders he gave led directly to the deaths of others. And he had shuffled off many from this, their mortal coil, on a very personal level at the behest of others. One would even call his indifference to the whole thing borderline sociopathic and not be incorrect. But this was different.

Despite the glaring flaws in the man's parentage and upbringing, Foy found that he genuinely liked the guy. Oh sure, for all he knew, the esteemed Shepherd Pearson was raised by a pair of derelict slum dwellers, living off of government sponsored social charity programs and recycled soy; the only reason why he did not share a similar fate was because he was somehow able to join the priesthood. But Atticus was part of a group bound by something other than contractual obligation. It was a thing that which Foy was inexperienced, outside of family. Well, and Dr. Moreau.

Well, disreputable as he might have been, from Anisa's accounting of the situation his replacement was far worse. And he was given the galling task of readying her room, plus an extra. With surprising tact (at least to begin), Foy addressed the Captain. He was a gentleman, after all. "Madame, you possess my clearest and most unadulterated sympathies for the unexpected mortal transcendence of your dear friend and trusted crewmember, Shepherd Pearson. I should flatter myself were I to assume that my presence would offset the burden placed upon you or your ...fine vessel... Yet I remain ever at your service in the meantime, Captain Crowe." Foy made the motions of straightening his tie, even though it was impeccable, and continued, "To that end, I have preference toward resuming my duties in preparation for the arrival of this new jewel in the crown of Prometheus... Bridgette, you say?" He motioned to the exit with an outstretched arm, "If it is permissible, Madame?"



Bridgette Vinters

Location: Newhope Docks (In front of Prometheus)
Skills: N/A


Bridgette giggled at her little brother's antics and gave his shoulder a playful shove. He wasn't particularly funny, but he was so naively endearing that she couldn't help but laugh. "Hey thanks, Cyril." she said in gentle, dulcet tones, "I feel a lot better now. Let's go." She threw back the cup of tea and said a quick goodbye to the proprietors of the stallfront eatery, capping it off with, "...yeah, sure! I'll come back here the next time I'm stuck on Newhope. You guys're awesome! Just, tell a girl what the fuck you're feeding her," her voice turned dead serious before immediately veering back to head-bobbing, lunatic cheerful, "Okay?" Momentary shock hit the lady behind the counter as she slowly slid a container of rice pudding across to Bridgette. The surly Shieldmaiden flashed her a smile, carefully accepted it, and left the establishment in her rearviews.

The approach to the ship was careful at first, Bridgette wasn't completely sure what a Dragonfly Class Vessel looked like. She had to take out her terminal to verify the docking site and ship register just to make sure. So when Cyril asked if the vessel was their new home, Bridgette was confident when she responded in the affirmative. "Helvete ja, baby brother. For at least six months." She was concerned with how Cyril would be accepted by the crew, obviously. The puppet show was going to be a hurdle. That was a concern on the immediate. Bridgette herself was another matter. Much of what made her her these past years left its own mental scarring. A lot of it. Anisa had only ever worked with her on the short-term. She was going to see a whole new side of Bridgette Vinters, Shieldmaiden of Borr. In time.

So much as she wanted to disagree with that fucking sock puppet, it did have a point. Instead of addressing the errant bit of altered laundry, she cocked her head to the side to look at her sibling directly. "Doesn't look like anyone's on the Bridge." It was a guess, more than anything else. It wasn't like Anisa to invite someone over and leave them standing on the doorstep. "I'll send a wave. They don't answer, I'm hucking bricks at the fucking windows." She keyed up a message to the ship from her cortex terminal and tried to make it as professional as possible: "What the solid fuck, Anisa? You putting the spurs to that slim piece of man-meat and can't crack a door for a bitch? Huh? Open up, please!" She repeatedly tapped her index finger on the camera's transparent lenscover for effect, then started staring at the main cargo door of Prometheus.



William Harper

Location: Prometheus (Galley)
Skills: Computers


The news seemed to hit different people differently. The newer people that joined up the previous evening didn't appear to take this impromptu meeting as much more than an information dump, a briefing like any other. Harper did his best to study these reactions to better get an idea about these people. He was impressed with the way in which Anisa set aside her personal feelings and got the job done. And it was a hard task, making the announcement like she did.

Circumstances had turned Harper into a lightly paranoid, partially unhinged man of admirable formal education. But at the core of it all, he was a survivor. And if he was going to survive for the next two years, which was an important step in his master plan entitled "How Not To Die and/or Get Sent Back To That Unregistered Alliance Penal Colony", he had to play it smart. Staying off the grid was a big part of it, and his best bet to do that lay with this woman, who he had been slowly beginning to realize was just as human as the rest of them despite her ability to be a massive hardass. It was just her way of surviving, he figured, the same way he was trying to. He had put his trust in this woman, and so, he had to put his trust in her choice of crew. That step of faith was about to be tested.

The comm in Harper's ear gave a quiet, telltale chirping sound, alerting him to an incoming wave on the Bridge. He was about to let Anisa know about the incoming message when it began sounding inside of his skull with full, auditory clarity. Apparently he forgot to add a line of code somewhere. Regardless, the message indicated that their new crewmember was here, in the angry, resplendent glory that he had witnessed from her earlier communication. Harper shook his head, sighing. This was what they were waiting for. As soon as the dandy Barber finished requesting to be dismissed to see to some other duty, he cleared his throat and spoke. "Ma'am? Pardon the interruption please. Miss Vinters has arrived and is requesting permission to board." In the most ass way possible. "If you want a chuckle, check the wave later. She's right outside of Cargo, Ma'am."

Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Morose
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Dorothy Pender


Location: Prometheus: Lower Floor: Medical
Skills: Discipline

Dorothy glanced up as Jahosafat came into the room, hoping that he hadn't heard any of her speech to Atticus. It was something private - and while she supposed she could have just thought it, something had just felt right about voicing those feelings aloud. She didn't notice that he had fixed up his appearance, her mind more focused on the present - and what could have been. What if she had acted on those feelings of jealousy the night before, at Lady Luck's? What would have happened if she went to speak with Atticus privately, the night before? She didn't like having regrets in her life. She wanted to be able to stick to her decisions and review them as being the right call later on.

She accepted the letter from Jahosafat, staring at it for a moment. "Thank ya - I trust you found his will?" she asked. She then didn't want to wait a second more to find out what the letter said. She made up her mind she was going to read it and that was that. As she opened it and she read its contents, she couldn't help but tear up and laugh softly at the same time. As infuriating as the letter was, it was perfect. And at the same time, it broke her heart. Her stubbornness and impulsiveness had gotten in the way of her happiness again. If he wasn't dead, she would have punched him. And even then, she was considering it still.

"Wǒ ài nǐ, sīshēngzǐ," Dorothy muttered under her breath, quietly enough that no one else could hear. She then took a breath, trying to compose herself as she folded the letter up neatly and placed it in her pocket.

Fitz Townsley


Location: Prometheus: Galley
Skills: None

Fitz couldn't help but be completely gobsmacked when Anisa mentioned what had happened. His mind went into overdrive as it began to make sense. When he had been hiding underneath the bed, in terror that Daphne's sister and the Captain would come to rip him to shreds and feed him to expensive purebred pets on Osiris, Atticus had died. He was the first person that actively talked about anything like science and math on the ship. And while Fitz couldn't help but mourn a friendship that never was, he couldn't help but become more and more aware of his own mortality.

He wasn't even thirty years old yet - and sure, Atticus had been hitting the booze from what Anisa said - but could that be him in a few years? Or even in the next week? Daphne's life had been threatened at gunpoint the night before. Were all the vacancies on the crew from people who died? He gulped, tapping his fingers on the side of his head nervously. He couldn't help but wonder if they all had died, one after the other, and if that was a common sort of thing on this ship. He could tell that Anisa was shaken up about this too and it was reassuring to know that it hadn't been murder.

But for the boy scared of his own shadow, of the monsters hiding underneath his bed, he couldn't help but feel more and more paranoid. He loved people, but his social anxiety got the best of him. And in this moment, he wasn't afraid for himself - he was afraid for these people, who he had come to consider his friends. They were the ones who sat down and played a board game with him after Lady Luck. Daphne was the one who he had talked through the night with. In less than a day, he had had more meaningful moments of human interaction than he had had in his entire university career on Osiris.
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