[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=b8860b]Reginald Keystone[/color][/b][/i][/h1]
[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/3239da2d-aeb9-49eb-abf8-d7d6b44a7527.jpg[/img][/center]
[hr][center][color=darkgoldenrod][b]Location:[/b][/color] Athribis (Underground)
[color=b8860b][b]Skills:[/b][/color] Fortitude? Dexterity? [i]Britishness[/i]? [/center][hr][hr]

	[i]DAMN![/i] Damn, damn, and blast it! The fates once again conspired to prevent the Lord Major from exiting the world in a gesture of heroism, once again denied him the opportunity to die with valor! Was he to ever rot in his field command, soaking up decent scotch and reveling in the accomplishments of a younger, brasher man that occasionally stared back at him from the mirror? Why could he not have been riddled with bullets as he did a fly-by against a German or Austrian target, or even before then as he fought valiantly against the colonial Dutch and their native allies in the south of the African Continent? Nary a dirigible explosion to ferry him across the Styx, no; nor could he have been met in single combat with a [i]single bloody duelist[/i] worthy of his skill with a long blade. Nor a single aerial combatant that could have [i]possibly[/i] bested him in the exploding skies of a proper dogfight! And THIS, this latest [i]insult[/i] slapped upon him by whatever powers that be... Reginald could not even jump into a pit in the darkest depths of chicanery that the ancients of this country had to offer modern men and [i]presume[/i] to slip this, his mortal coil in a manner befitting an old soldier! It wasn't right! It wasn't fair! It was... It was highly, highly uncomfortable!

	That wasn't a metaphor, nor a euphemism. His Leap of Faith caught him with his pants up - [i]way up[/i]. An outcropping caught the back of his belt, slipping the waist of his precariously high pants over the rounder part of his belly, allowing gravity to do what gravity does: pull things downward. One could see the ventilated argyle of his neatly manufactured socks stand as muted opposition to the brightness of his eyes, crossed under the suddenness and painful abruptness of his trousers (and what lay beneath) hacksawing their way into parts unmentionable upon the Lord Major, as the man himself expressed his profound dissatisfaction with the ordeal. 

	[color=b8860b]"AHHhhhHHHHHaaHHHHHH!!! [i]My Gluteal Crevasse![/i] By JOVE, the monogram on my interior garments is [i]imprinting itself[/i] 'pon my colon! Quickly! Lift! Lift, there's a fellow. And/or a madame! Come along, I believe I can barely make out the flavor of the stitching, it's so far be-crammed!"[/color] 

[hider=Roll Request]
Character current location: Athribis, Underground
Characters attempted actions: OUT OF HOLE (in more ways than one)
Any and all skills being used: Fortitude? Dexterity? Britishness? Still not sure.
Why each skill is being called: OOOOOOW!
Desired location of the character: OUT OF HOLE
[/hider]



[center][hr][hr][h1][i][b][color=bdb76b]Haring Reddish[/color][/b][/i][/h1]
[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/3dfa33ad-a5d4-4a36-83f4-7ad368164e70.gif[/img][/center]
[hr][center][color=darkkhaki][b]Location:[/b][/color] Benha (Elite Deck, Cabin) 
[color=bdb76b][b]Skills:[/b][/color] Investigation/Espionage [/center][hr][hr]

	It was difficult to tell if anything was off, amiss, or other; not in the room occupied by the charming by painfully accident-prone Lady Vera Munn. The explanation for this might very well be Reddish's fault, being as he had been quite taken aback by the strange and fantastic goings-on of the party to whom he had been providing escort, Josephine. She had somehow been able to work her (alleged) [i]witchy powers[/i] to close an open, bleeding slash across her face and just a handful of moments later throw a kick rivaling a battering ram through a stateroom door. Oh, the Corporal was impressed. A little scared, but highly impressed. Not scared enough to hightail it out of there and locate an exorcist to perform his stock and trade, but definitely enough to keep him interested with [i]riveting[/i] fascination. Or to put it differently, if he wasn't on task for the Lord Major, he was going to keep close to the Starlet, provided she not threaten him with her amazing powers of the supernatural. He would hate to have to cry in public. 

	But definitely, Reddish would have to ask her more formally to be his bodyguard from now on. It made so much more sense. 

	Perhaps this is what he had been waiting for. Though it didn't happen to him specifically, he did just witness what amounted to a magical event that involved the Fellowship. He was present. It was revealed to [i]him[/i]. Reddish had, if informally, crossed the line from bystander to MAN INVOLVED, if that involvement was purely in the periphery for now. It was a step in the right direction. 

	So far as the question concerning the presence or absence of the American, George, he could only relate what he witnessed. [color=bdb76b]"Oh, [i]no madame[/i]! This room was fully uninhabited, save for Your Ladyship, of course, ah... Your Ladyship! Yes. Likewise madame, no one left the room before Miss Clarke obliterated the door with her [i]substantial[/i] reserves of,"[/color] Reddish caught himself looking over the young starlet with something that looked very much like interest, and not of the academic variety, [color=bdb76b]"...physical [i]vigor[/i], hmm."[/color] He cleared his throat and over-corrected himself by snapping promptly to attention, exhibiting the duty of his station among women of higher standing. [color=bdb76b]"Please excuse the Corporal for his foray into a less professional demeanor, Lady and Ma'am. I am amazingly happy to see that you are perfectly canny, Lady Munn! I believe that we have business elsewhere on the deck, however, Miss Clarke, though I dare not leave the Lady unattended. Not with ruffians about."[/color] Reddish nodded somberly, and turned his attention back toward the open door, just in case.