[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=b8860b]Reginald Keystone[/color][/b][/i][/h1]
[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/bee7cdf3-093c-430b-91b1-6433cbfb2ac7.gif[/img][/center]
[hr][center][color=darkgoldenrod][b]Location:[/b][/color] The Ferry (Just outside Bridge)
[color=b8860b][b]Skills:[/b][/color] N/A [/center][hr][hr]

	A quiet chortle could be head in the vicinity of the Lord Major. It wasn't just because of the "American" joke, because there was a little truth to that statement in his experience (and considering his own past actions he really couldn't judge), but also because he felt a wave of relief to hear that the waterlogged fellow was getting the help he needed. There was nothing like removing a bit of worry to help one express mirth. In the event that the statement was taken as insult, or his own reaction to it, Reginald turned to the nearby lady from Philadelphia, [color=b8860b]"Apologies, Miss Benaszewski. The brazen fortitude and near insanity of your country's fighting men was crucial in the struggle against the Kaiser during the Great War, quite. I am only too happy to be in Fellowship with your people from the former Colonies, you see."[/color] He cleared his throat, unsure as to his conclusion, [color=b8860b]"Though one must admit the impulsive nature of the culture, while progressive as a people, makes for a myriad of cautionary tales. Blaze of glory, and whatnot..."[/color] The last sentence was spoken with a certain wistfulness that was notably absent elsewhere, as if something to be aspired toward. 

	[color=b8860b]"...yes, blaze of glory..."[/color] He suddenly focused upon the people around him, as if snapped out of a deep and satisfying thought. The one member of his staff in particular, Corporal Reddish. [color=b8860b]"Corporal, if you would please? As the Captain's men and one brave yet foolhardy American (for whom I shall likely purchase a whisky later) have the situation under control, do take the time to inspect both your and Miss Clarke's staterooms. Report back if anything is amiss, that I may make a full report on the matter with the Captain. Provided nothing else [i]untoward[/i] occurs this eve, you may consider your obligations met, Corporal. Dismissed."[/color] 





[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=bdb76b]Haring Reddish[/color][/b][/i][/h1]
[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/2ea491d2-5414-4af6-8fc2-9832160a5d6a.jpg[/img][/center]
[hr][center][color=darkkhaki][b]Location:[/b][/color] The Ferry (Elite Deck)
[color=bdb76b][b]Skills:[/b][/color] N/A [/center][hr][hr]

        Several bits of new information flooded into the recesses of Haring's mind. While he was off having a pleasant, evwn spectacular night out, the rest of hus party was experiencing various hardships and irregularities. Oddly, a part of him wondered if they were cursed in some way. They were, after all, chosen somehow. Or at least that is what they reported in the form of shared dreams and spontaneous physical branding. Possibly he was spared because he didn't really belong to the group, having basically conned his way into it? It was something to consider. 

        Something [i]not[/i] to consider, however, were the Lord Major's orders. He was given a task commensurate with his rank and standing, and that cooresponded with the company he kept presently. Doubling up was a good idea anyway for purposes of safety, particularly if armed. Safety in numbers. Well, relatively speaking. In the manner of Unyielding British Propriety, the unrelenting Corporal Reddish addressed the various members of his group (plus guest) in a manner of shorthand etiquette as a means of temporary farewell. Rapidly.

        Starting with Gene, [color=bdb76b]"Miss Benaszewski,"[/color] he chirped, with a nod of his head. 

        Turning the nod into a full bow at the waist, Reddish swiveled the few degrees necessary to properly face Vera. The action resembled a clockwork dancer. [color=bdb76b]"M'lady!"[/color] he continued. 

        Continuing his arc of pleasantries, Reddish stood straight and tall, quickly facing the Shipmaster, [color=bdb76b]"Captain!"[/color] he called. The intensity of each title increasing as he went on. It was building to something. 

        [color=bdb76b]"And..."[/color] He cast a sideways glance at Josephine, even as he turned to face Reginald. As if he was signalling. Or warning. He snapped his hand into a proper military salute, taking in a lungful of air to propel a final auditory blast that might one day be embellished in the annals of comic book history as a legitimate superpower, [color=bdb76b]"...Lord [b][i]MAJOR!!![/i][/b]"[/color]  

        Then seamlessly turned to Josephine. He placed a hand upon her lower back, motioned down the length of the ship with his other, and suggested, [color=bdb76b]"Shall we inspect your stateroom first, Miss Clarke?"[/color] He wore a helpful look and a warm, accommodating smile.