Sigil

🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed)

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Keystone

Location: Yellow Rose Temple

Interacting With: Sana, Yomdi

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In reaction to Sana's blunt but likely accurate assessment that Yomdi was in fact "Nuts", Keystone held up his hand and brought his thumb and forefinger close together, as if to measure just a small amount. His subtle but vigorous nodding and widened eyes pointed to a general agreement with her findings. Yes, Yomdi's cheese had slipped almost all the way off of his cracker. "Don't mean he's wrong, though."

Keystone stepped forward with Sana to the center of the room, where the Temple Master had instructed she be placed, and knelt down to place her upon the ground. "Mayhap he'll surprise you, yeah? He 'elped me align m'bloody chakras and whatnot. Interestin' tutorial 'bout effective use of bodily wind... er... but that ain't related, quite."

"Yeah! Total faith in the man."

Okay, so he meditated with the guy a while back, and true to word, Yomdi passed along knowledge of harnessing wind to accomplish tasks that normal men could not. It wasn't his fault that for whatever reason, Keystone's attempts to manipulate that particular element were met with catastrophic, personally injuring failure. It wasn't until he worked with what was described as "The worst slice in the history of Monk-ing." Might as well go with it. Instead of trying to manipulate, he started with the concept of expulsion. And in that regard, Keystone was magnificently adept. Of course, all this meant was that he was a shoo-in for provincial contests involving the buildup and release of internally produced vapors (both upper and lower), across the board with depth, duration, and raw decibel output, but damnit, it was a start.

So naturally, when Yomdi said it was an elemental wind issue and could be treated thusly, Keystone was willing to give the old man the benefit of the doubt.

🦄 After Miranda - A Firefly Rp - Season 1 (Completed)

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Foy Coiffeur

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Location: Retribution, Conference Room -> Foy-er

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"Positively, my good man!" remarked Foy to the Shepherd(?), spinning his hat from its resting place atop one of his sidearms and onto his head. The picture of gentlemanly panache, he slid one finger across the brim to ensure a tidy, level fit, and turned toward the door behind him. A self-assured smile grew on his lips. He turned his head halfway around so that those in the room could clearly hear him. "Should anyone appreciate the feel of a clean shave, fresh cut, or merely the luxury of a decent coffee and something sweet, please feel free to join us." He stepped into the corridor, and completed his thought aloud, "The sentiment likewise is applied to civilized discussion. I have come to ascertain that it is in reduced supply in this part of the 'Verse. That is civilized discussion. I refuse to tolerate the guttural musings of underclass prolix within my parlor."

He strode casually to the nearest ladder, calling behind him, "One deck up, across from Recovery!"

A very short time later, Foy found himself setting out a plate of shortbread and toasted nuts, readying a pot of aromatic black coffee (providing the appropriate creamers and sweeteners), and of course, his virtually endless supply of wrapped candies. The final touch came when he unbuckled his gunbelt and hung it across the left ear of his barber's chair.

"Might I interest you in a styling, or simply a cleanup, my good man?"

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William Harper

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Location: Retribution, Captain's Office

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This was going to be an interesting conversation. No two ways about it. Harper did not know this Captain, but she had said very distinctly that she was a confirmed Browncoat. So he expected to be either treated like a precious resource or jettisoned from a missile tube, equal chance of either possibility. So what the hell? He was in this. Time to allow his actual personality to slip, what was left of it after the last few years. Glancing at the instrumentation in the room, he made really damned sure that no recording or observation was taking place before saying what he had to. Or even getting comfortable.

He settled into a chair opposite Quinn's former desk and steepled his fingers in front of him. Harper squinted his eyes slightly and cocked his head to the side, looking at Anisa in an appraising manner. He raised a finger, motioning in her direction as he began to speak in a confident, damn near upbeat voice. "I've got very little to lose, so I'm going to start this out with the biggest piece of conversation. So let's lay it out bare:" He was obviously significantly more assertive than he had been letting on throughout the meeting.

"Lieutenant William Harper died about two weeks ago, in a cold and horrible place I wouldn't wish even on that Quinn asshair. Blunt force trauma that involved a Jùdà de Tā mā de Bānshǒu.₁ I am not Alliance, but I used to be. Cards on the table, yes I served in the Unification War. Pilot. Imagine that. I do a lot more than fly, these days. A couple of those things can help keep this ship under your control. Trust me, they're thinking about it. Guns and numbers too - they've got 'em. I'd prefer to be an asset than not, personally. Hope you feel the same way."

"So! What part did you want to discuss first, Captain?"

Translations

1 = Huge Fucking Wrench

🦄 Soulless Regency - Merged With T.S.

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_{"Act, and God will act." -Joan of Arc}

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Location: Chapel Undercroft

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It was quite a show. The kind of ability that Mary wouldn't mind learning for herself, if it were allowed by the Vatican and her Order. Very impressive. Judging by the look on Gerard's face, he agreed with Mary's assessment. The Sister's repertoire versus the non-corporeal left something to be desired; even when working under more senior Venatores est Inanimati, they tended to avoid or outsource Cargast. Then again, the Order of St. Sylvester didn't have a lot of people like Mary. And she did have a desire to increase her usefulness to the cause. Perhaps the Bishop knew of the Church's stance on the matter, he was once a Venator himself and was presently her liaison to Rome. That was a question for tomorrow.

Elizaveta's request for Mary to join her entourage to Almack's brought a broad smile to her face. She slipped her hand into her sporran bag and withdrew an envelope, within which was a formal invitation. "This is an amusing turn of events, Lady Romanova. I have business at Almack's at the request of the proprietors. I would already be there if circumstances had not kept me within the walls of Ely. They were quite last minute; I have my horse and provisions fully ready to depart at a moment's notice." She looked to Bishop Mansfield expectantly. Though not one of the cloistered Sisters here at St. Etheldreda's, she was still bound by her Oath of Obedience. In this place, that meant the Bishop's order to stay within the grounds carried until he said otherwise, or directed by a higher authority.

"I was unaware that you had business there as well, my Lady. I had planned to request your company, if you felt up to it this evening. Of course, I should require the Bishop's permission before I commit myself to any action tonight."

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Black James(!)

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Location: Parking Lot between 10 and Gilbert Street (Wedding Site)

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People were starting to file in. Now was the time to find a spot to rest his weary hindquarters before all the good spots were taken. James hadn't been to a wedding in a very long time, even before dead people got up the gumption to eat the living. This was the closest thing to an evening at the theatre (not like he did that much either, though) that one could really have in snowy Newnan, and damnit, he intended to get a good seat.

But first, James had to get something from concessions. For him, concessions was the toolbox on the side of his smoker, filled with various tongs, brushes, forks, and small amounts of non-perishables used in the flavoring and accompanying of lovely, lovely meat. From this he withdrew a sack of roasted peanuts. Just before joining the growing crowd, he secreted it into his jacket pocket and moved into the audience quietly, for once trying very hard not to draw attention to himself. Carefully, the veteran hog hunter zeroed in on an unattended seat next to Thana, opposite a visibly emotional Miss Sally. So long as he could make it there before anyone else took notice of the empty chair, life would suck slightly less. Oh yes. It was on.

"...pardon... 'scuse me... ...comin' down... aw shit, sorry 'bout that..." and the like issued softly from him. He eventually made it over to the metaphorical goal line, and settled in with a sense of personal satisfaction. While the remainder of the unseated were milling about, James reached into his pocket and pulled out a small handful of the delicious, locally grown legumes. From the corner of his eye, James observed Thana and remembered his manners. Slowly, he withdrew the paper sandwich bag from his coat, and offered it fully to the familiar lady.

"Goobers?"

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The Ceremony

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The entire world slowed down for Jack as Tatiana entered the wedding site, looking more beautiful than he could have thought possible. As much as he didn't want to cry, he couldn't help but feel like tears of joy could pour out of his eyes at any moment. As Tatiana reached the aisle, Jack took a deep breath, hoping to calm his furiously beating heart. Gently taking Tatiana's hand, Jack stepped up with her to the alter, perhaps the happiest man left alive in the world.

Grasping the length of her dress, Tatiana stepped carefully up the alter, half afraid she was going trip with each step. That or pass out the way her heart was pounding in her chest and how she could barely breath. Handing over her bouquet to Meg she turned looked up at Jack. She couldn't get over how handsome he looked and right then it felt as if everything was right in the world. There was no thought of Walkers roaming in the snow outside the walls, none of the danger from Eden was there, life was as it should be. She was there, with him. That was all. Well him and Ash. Oh right, it was actually happening.

The fact that it was happening was made apparent and official with Ash's nod to the couple, each one in turn. There was an expectant look on his face that seemed to say to the couple: Ready or not, here we go. Standing straight and tall, the very official looking Captain Holloway raised his hands to gather the attention of the people of Newnan. When quiet was had, he lowered them, and addressed the crowd. "Please be seated."

As the shuffling of feet and dress fabric settling into chairs ceased, Ash cleared his throat and began to recite the words he had worked out beforehand, striving for somber dignity. "We come together today in celebration. In a dangerous and troubled world, we come together to celebrate Love. Love, Commitment, and Family. We are that, every one of us now: Family. But mostly, we come together to celebrate these two fine people. Tatiana and Jack might have met by chance, might have fallen in love by chance, but they are here today because they made a choice. They have chosen to pledge themselves to one another, from now until the end of their days."

"Tatiana and Jack can express their love for each other with greater understanding than I. For this reason, they have decided to recite their own vows. Jack, you may begin."

Jack nodded, taking a quick breath before he began. For some, it'd be their first exposure to the thick Boston accent of Jack Hudson. And while he tried his very best to practice pronouncing his R's for the ceremony, his nerves might have made the accent worsen. Smiling, he looked into Tatiana's eyes, and then carefully recited his vows. "Solovey, today I make the most sinceh promise a heart can make to anothah. I vow to be your constant love and suppoht; your devoted partnah in life; to allow myself to grow through your remahkable love for me. My life stahted again the day I met you, Tatiana. You taught me how to laugh again, how to smile, with dancin' and Monopoly. Today, I vow to you that you will nevah be alone--that we will face whatevah happens togethah. Because I promise you, my nightingale and my best friend, that I will nevah give up--that I will always believe in us, and that I will love you forevah."

A second's worth of empty air followed Jack's vows, just enough to ensure that they were given the respectful attention they deserved before Ash nodded to the bride. "Now you, Tatiana."

Tatiana felt her bottom lip trembling as Jack spoke, her heart swelling as she felt the threatening of tears. Ash's voice made her blink, breaking through just enough to let her focus on what she had to say. Taking a calming breath she swallowed before she started to speak. "Jack, my vonderful Jack. Life is hard. Alvays vas, alvays vill be. I vov to alvays love you. You taught scared little bird to fly again." Smiling as she spoke she paused and her smile faded, her vows turning so much more somber. Her eyes starting to glisten as she spoke on. "Ve vill die. One vill be alone. I vov should you die before me I vill still smile, I vill still fight, I vill still be strong because you vould vant me to. And I svear vith everything I am that vhen my time come, I vill find you again."

The eyebrow of the good Captain officiating the ceremony was forced upward slowly but unerringly at the vows presented by the slender Russian lady. Ash's face turned to her as she continued, a strange expression creeping across his features. That was most assuredly not expected. But it was honest, had to credit Tati that one. The tiniest of shrugs later, and he continued. "You have chosen to wear rings to remind you of these promises to one another. As you make this next promise, present one another with these symbols of your commitment.

"Jack, do you take this woman, Tatiana Lobov Korvo, as your wife from this day onward, until death parts you?"

Jack nodded, still grinning despite the solemn nature of Tatiana's vows. She was a survivor, and more importantly, she was realistic. Odds were, something would happen to one of them. They had been lucky to make it this far without injury. "I do," Jack said, taking the wedding band, and slipping it onto Tatiana's finger. It was perhaps nicer by old day standards than the engagement ring he had given her, considering that it wasn't made out of rope. But both rings, in Jack's opinion, looked equally lovely on Tatiana.

"Tatiana, do you take this man, Charles Jack Hudson, as your husband from this day onward, until death parts you?"

Tatiana took Jack's hand and smiled up at him. The ring she had found had taken a long while to acquire. It ended up being a run down to the old Ren Faire site again that had finally paid off. It was simple and rustically made but it held so much meaning. To be able to find a more traditional Russian Wedding Ring, a triple rolled puzzle ring like like the ones she had seen people wearing growing up was priceless. "I do," she said breathlessly as she slipped the ring on his finger. Biting her bottom lip she couldn't stop looking up at him, a light hearted giggled escaping her as she looked into his eyes.

A deep, soulful expression enveloped Ash. There was reverence in his eyes, looking upon the happy couple and the crowd behind them. There was actual love here. Ash himself felt a twinge of bittersweet sorrow buried under the solemn joy of the occasion. They were almost at the conclusion of the ceremony. Finish, congratulate, feel something later.

"Witnessed by God and all those present, you may now share your first kiss as Husband and Wife."

Tatiana barely waited for Ash to finish speaking before she tossed her bouquet over her shoulders towards Meg and Kris; launching herself towards Jack with a smile so bright she thought her face might actually split in two. Her lips pressing against his as her arms wrapped over his shoulders. Giggling into the kiss she didn't even think about the fact that traditionally the man was supposed to kiss the woman, she just wanted to kiss her husband, so she did.

Jack nearly fell backwards as Tatiana practically leapt at him, catching his balance at just about the last possible second. For a cop, he hadn't exactly been trained for catching Russian ballerinas--but still, it worked out. And he had never been raised in quite a traditional household, knowing strong female roles his entire life. He didn't think twice about Tatiana kissing him, as he kissed her back in exchange. Hell, he wouldn't have been that surprised if he ended up taking her name instead.

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

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J. Keystone

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Location: Queensguard R&D Industrial Complex: Outside the Office

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Bored bored bored bored bored. Bored. This had to be the longest meeting in Corporate Executive history. He had already imagined and planned many different and exciting ways to painfully do in the people around him, just in case it was necessary. Luckily, the mild paranoia that comes from working for a man like Caesar did well to keep Keystone raptly alert, despite his monumental sense of useless waiting. Then a text message came through. Keystone felt it was safe enough to check it out.

"All good here. Italian tonight? Might bring guest. Talk business then, call you later."

He was a little surprised to see the word "Guest" in the message. Caesar had been mostly withdrawn as of late, not that he could blame the man. That word could mean a number of things. For now, and not only because he was likely under the scrutiny of security personnel that were not under his command, Keystone responded to the message at face value.

"Still at work, client in meeting. If over soon, will cook. If not, restaurant. Will call when can."

Other eyes in the corridor wandered over to the broad Security Agent. Perhaps there was a touch of judgement; after all, he was responding to an instant message while on the job. Ordinarily he wouldn't, at least not in quite that fashion. But he was waiting for information that Caesar was still alive and well. This counted. And the nature of the message hinted that he had found something. If he was lucky, those unfamiliar with the situation would just think that he was being a little sloppy. That would suit him just fine.

"Supper plans." he stated simply, and put his secure phone away.

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Caesar Gonzalez

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Location: Morgue

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So Roy would not be joining them. As Caesar had originally planned on going alone anyway, it wasn't too much of a letdown. Of course, the thought occurred to him that if he were being straight with the three of them, his life was massively in danger here. Caesar didn't want anyone else dead. Check that - he wanted many, many people dead. Just not anyone that he felt didn't deserve it. That particular list had a way of changing often.

Caesar accepted Detective Gregory's card and looked it over thoroughly, then tucked it away. As he did, he assured the detective that he would indeed continue to act as her protector. "It's one of the reasons I asked her to come." Past that, he waited until there was lull enough in the dual phone conversations to address the two of them. "I'm meeting my associate after a while for dinner to talk some business and get last minute details worked. Do either of you want to join us? We're doing Italian."

🦄 Deeper Than The Sands - Merged With T.S.

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Reginald Keystone

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Location: Grand Continental Hotel

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Reginald gave the standard back and forth banter associated with the holding and transferring of a ne'er-do-well from private hands over to the local authority. The Empire technically held sway concerning the trade and protection of Egypt, and as such the Royal Military trained Cairo's law enforcement personnel, openly working in tandem them after the fact. The Lord Major's presence made it all a tad more official. Not that the situation wouldn't have gone similarly otherwise, but the clout provided by someone of Reginald's stature made the questioning lighter, if a tad more prone to unneeded ceremony. Sergeant Walsh, while seemingly a decent fellow, was technically a "civilian with benefits".

He tucked away his pistol but did not snap the holster shut, preferring to have access to the device quickly were the next odd yet inevitable thing to occur within the next moments.

As it turned out, the next odd thing to occur was marching up the thoroughfare with a patrol of British soldiers in tow. "DOUBLETIME! ...hut, hut, hut, hut, hut, hut... Company halt! Right face! Ready for orders, Lord MAJOR!"

"Bloody hell, Corporal, you're scaring the straights!" He facepalmed, truly embarrassed for himself and the men under his command. Just... at ease, and hold for orders, man!" The Lord Major was very curious in that instant as to who promoted this man. The thought occurred to him, to his chagrin, that it was probably him. Damned whisky.

🦄 Deeper Than The Sands - Merged With T.S.

@ONL

Unless you have something worked out with the GM, I believe you just bunnied Peter, Reginald, and Sgt. Walsh into the hotel and up to Aziza's room. I didn't get the memo from @Lady Amalthea about my character being moved. Figured this out about halfway through typing Reggie's reaction to the situation.

Holding post until this is resolved.

🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed)

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Keystone

Location: Yellow Rose Temple

Interacting With: Satilla, Cyneburg, Yomdi

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Keystone had explained in detail what he witnessed personally concerning Sana's condition and the fight that brought it on. The presence of undead in massive numbers, the tactics used, and Sana's drain from spellsinging (for lack of a better term). Even the well-meant but hamfisted attempt to administer a potion to her unconscious form was detailed, as well as Keystone's own mundane efforts to assist. Yomdi, however, insisted upon hearing it again. The broad pugilist retold his story.

Perhaps it was a tactic; repetition to sort out the truth of the matter. Asking all of them to tell from their own points of view to look for details in common as well as details that individuals might have missed. Or just to see the looks on their faces to ascertain if they were intentionally hiding something. Whatever the case, Keystone told his story as best he could.

He had been to many monastic orders, martial training facilities, and the like. Every temple leader was a little different. Some actively used magic, a thing in which Keystone was particularly unversed. Some were actually Clerics that gained insight on barehanded fighting. Others were people similar to him - ordinary folk who pushed their minds and bodies to limits thought unattainable by normal men. Still others challenged themselves to achieve personal enlightenment, a more mystical or mental path that gave them abilities similar to magic, but something else altogether. The core of Keystone's thought on this matter being that he actually had little idea what Yomdi was capable of doing at his best, or what miracles he could perform to assist in the healing of Sana. All he could do is repeat his story as clearly and honestly as possible.

Perhaps an answer existed in the combined efforts of those present in that candlelit, black marble room. At this point, it was anyone's guess. Keystone merely hoped that the crazy old man who ran things here could provide him answers and his friend help. For that, he would repeat himself many times if requested.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Black James(!)

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Location: Parking Lot between 10 and Gilbert Street -> Coming Full Circle

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"Shit." thought James, now under a serious amount of urgency. "Double-Shit Monday, that's what this is." He didn't actually believe this, but it was apparent that he was running later than he would have liked. The group was starting to filter in ever so slowly, meaning he had precious little time with which to get ready, if he wanted to catch the ceremony. He didn't want to be That Guy, the guy who only shows up for the party but not for the reason they were throwing it. Maybe people would understand, I mean, he had been out there for a good long while, prepping meats and getting his redneck mise-en-place together for the rest of the dishes that domestic was making to his specifications. James had become quite good at cooking in the new, undead world. Just seemed to fall to him over his time in Newnan. When your goals revolve around providing the raw materials necessary to sustain human life for a revolving group of post-apocalyptic survivors, one eventually picks up tricks for making it palatable. Even spectacularly yummy, given the proper time and improvised supplies.

He had already signaled for Domestic to move the meat back to Mess for hot holding; from there it should be set up and waiting for the Reception in the Rec Center ASAP. Good thing, too. His contributions to the wedding aside, James had made it a point to secure a decently plump hog for the occasion. Sausage, grits, and sweet potato drop biscuits aside, he had started as early as he did for the purposes of keeping the hog under wraps. It was his wedding gift to the happy couple, such as these things could be. Food brings people together, food closes rifts, food heals wounds. And a Bigassed Chunka Hogflesh in their honor that they weren't expecting? Might be just the thing.

But that wasn't his main concern right now. His concern was hauling ass just as quickly as his two stocky legs could carry him, a block north of his present location to his home. He had a desperate need to wash the smell of smoke from himself and change into his suit, and in one quick hurry. The guests in their finery might have seen James in one of his less favorite activities; if they did not, they certainly heard him. He rounded the corner of Gilbert and LaGrange at a speed generally unseen from the colorful Meatsmith, accompanied by the siren call of his deep, rumbling voice calling out before him:

"Y'all betta MOVE!" and "Big Black Train a'comin'!" and even "Nothin' but elbows an' assholes!" Such was his desire for a hasty egress from his present location, destination firmly set. He was back home in about a minute.

James raced into his abode, flinging clothes off of himself as he tore toward the nearest bathroom. As he couldn't wait for the water to warm, the stalwart country boy grit his teeth and began to furiously scrub himself under the icy water to a furious series of utterances including, "DAMN! Hot damn! No, COLD muthafuckin' damn! AHHH... coldcoldcold... I think my outie turned to a innie!" The water was finally warming up by the time he got out. At least he wouldn't die of hypothermia right then. James toweled off as best he could and threw on his Black & Camo formal wear (Thank God the bowtie was pre-done). He stashed his pistol and knife on his person, as he believed no one should be without the means to make someone's life end, these days. James made quick use of a tool loop and thigh pocket (formal camo carpenter pants?) to hang his favorite hand axe. He looked quite the Gentleman Redneck. He looked moreso when he set his stetson atop his dignified head. "Ooh, you a smooth lookin' man, Mr. James, sir. Why thank you, Mr. James, you a good lookin' fella too." Mr. Grady paused from congratulating himself, grabbed his radio, and exited his house.

Now smelling of lavender soap and attired in an unapologetic tuxedo, James returned as quickly as he was able, barring injury or too-wet hair, to the parking lot behind his smoker. "And I'm still early. God damn."

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Ash & Thana

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Location: Building A (Ash's House) -> Parking Lot between 10 and Gilbert Street (Wedding area, between Smoker and Garden)

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"Yeah, Miss Sally's a beast, no doubt." intoned Ash quietly as he opened the door for Thana and waited for her to step inside. As the two of them entered, he completed his thought. "I've toured eleven separate engagements that have taken me from the jungle to desert, mountains to prairies. I've established villages for regular folk while under threat of local warlords, constructed bridges under heavy fire, and led armored charges directly into the mouth of mortars and RPGs."

"...but I refuse to tangle with Miss Sally when she puts her "serious face" on. C'mon, let's get ready."

Thana chuckled lightly as she stepped inside. "I want to be her when I grow up," Thana commented lightly about the elder of Newnan. There was just something about Miss Sally, like Sophia from Golden Girls; only British. She could hear it now... "Picture it, London, 1947." Shaking her head slightly she dropped her bag in the kitchen on a chair before glancing around. She could take the bathroom to get ready but looking over at Ash she figured the man needed a shower.

"Where can I change?"

Ash gave a tiny smirk and nodded. "Historic antebellum house. Four fireplaces, full kitchen downstairs, three rooms to serve as quartering. Screened back porch and a veranda, though I wouldn't suggest you change in either." He walked over to a polished wooden chest, knelt, and opened it with a quiet creak. A grey garment bag was removed, still with a dry cleaner's tag attached. Whatever was inside of it promised to be untouched by the passing of the Apocalypse.

"Change wherever you like," said Ash, walking to the nearest bathroom with the bag over his shoulder. "I'll just be ten minutes."

Thana nodded and glanced around, opting to just go into the first bedroom she found and shutting the door behind her. Hanging up the garment bags that Miss Sally had given her she unzipped them and her eyes widened at what was within. "Wow." Blinking she shook her head a bit, this was definitely not how she expected her day to go. Unbuttoning her jacket she got to work on getting as her mother would have said, "dolled up." It didn't take long thankfully since she had showered earlier. Just a quick change of clothing and a fast check in the mirror, she was ready.

She was half surprised that everything fit but then she stopped, she was basically the same size as Zoie had been she suspected. They were growing up. Miss Sally must have figured the same. Stepping out of the bedroom she left her things neatly on the dresser and walked into the living room, running her fingers over the red fabric of the dress. It was simple yet elegant and she was very thankful it was floor length in this weather. The shoes hadn't been to her liking so she opted for her black high shine pumps that went with her dress blues. Folding the black coat over her arm she waited for Ash to be ready to go.

Meanwhile, Ash had already climbed into the shower, lathering and rinsing at a pace that only a hurried military man could while still getting the job done. It reminded him of his days in basic training; somehow fitting thirty minutes of morning preparation into a scant five. Not that he wanted to make a habit out of it again, but the ability to do so had served him well since the world sent sideways. He was done and out promptly.

The garment bag was hanging just where he left it, on the back of the bathroom door. The second his skin was dry and hair reasonably so, Ash unzipped it gently, letting it fall from the clothing within. He had found them shortly after moving into this house. Quite possibly it belonged to the former owners. Pleasant surprise found him when he saw that it fit fairly nicely despite the weight he had lost over the last few years. The suit and coat looked a little too expensive for Ash's taste, though he did like the coat. It was long, black, and unencumbering, with a wide, partially upturned collar. Cosmopolitan, black leather composite gloves were in a pocket, created to match the outfit. No dress shoes, sadly. The Captain had to make due with his backup pair of combat boots, polished to a high shine.

He was just putting the gloves on awkwardly while carrying his utility belt out of the bathroom when he saw a very different looking version of the woman he left in the room a few minutes prior. "That's a, ah..." Not a loss for words, merely a mental search for the appropriate ones. "That's a very flattering color on you, ma'am." Nailed it.

Turning around and letting her fingers drop from the fireplace mantle Thana half smiled, half rolled her eyes. "Ya sure know how to compliment a lady," she prodded as she stepped over to him. "You look very handsome," Thana added with a straight face. "Except for one little detail, may I?" Pointing to his tie, the knot just a tad lopsided.

"Thank you. You look very nice as well." answered Ash. His hands went up to his tie where Thana was pointing, fingers feeling out the difficulty. "Knot's too tight. Just take a moment." He set his full utility belt down onto the nearest chair and returned to the bathroom. Loosening the tie was simple. Getting it back to where it looked even took a little longer. "This must seem strange as hell." started Ash from inside the bathroom. The door was open; it facilitated easier conversation and besides, fixing a tie required a mirror, not privacy. "Suddenly caught up in a wedding party after, well, every day these last few years."

Thana stepped around the corner and leaned against the doorway, as she crossed her arms over her chest, the coat hanging from her arm as she did. "Considering this day alone, everythin's strange as hell. Though some things never change," she quipped as he fixed the tie she had offered to correct for him. "Like a man not acceptin' help. Let me guess, you don't ask fer directions either," she chuckled slightly. "Though as far as the weddin' goes, figurin' it pretty strange for you as well. Or is this a regular thing here?"

"First one I've seen since Before." Ash dropped his hands away from his neck. "And I didn't think you were offering help. Would you, please?" He wasn't sure whether he was trying not to be rude to his guest, or whether his lack of practice tying a double windsor was a hassle he didn't want right at that moment. It still made him a little uncomfortable, letting someone physically close to him. The fact that this someone was female, pretty, and in that dress gave him the slightest twinge of guilt. Lucky for him, last year it would have been crippling. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd appreciate." This was Miss Sally's doing. Meddler.

"For future reference Captain, when I say 'may I?' I'm askin' permission." Her voice was calm as she spoke, stepping over and setting her coat down on the counter before reaching up and taking a hold of the silken fabric. "So tell me about the lucky couple. Might be a tad off puttin' if I don't even know their names, well more than a complete stranger showin' up as yer plus one. Might not have been a big thing Before, showin' up with someone the bride nor groom knew." Her fingers moved quickly as she spoke, fixin' the tie quickly with agile fingers. "But now a days? We can't exactly claim we met on the internet now can we?" she said with a smirk as she finished up the tie, making sure it was straight and not too tight on his neck. Patting the tie gently she stepped back.

"Fair enough. Groom is Jack Hudson. Former cop from Massachusetts. He's my Security Lead. Decent guy. Bride's name is Tatiana Korvo. A (no shit) Prima Ballerina from sunny Russia. Works as our Counselor." Ash gave the tie a light feel. Ok, the woman knew her way around neckwear. "Thank you." He retrieved the utility belt from the chair in the living room. It definitely clashed with the suit for formality, although there was a steampunky, Firefly vibe to the combination. Ash shook his head, opting instead to remove the .45 and his favorite knife, the large one with the knuckle dusters. He tucked the gun in its holster on the back of his belt and sheathed the knife at his side. Pulling his coat on, he allowed it to hang around him. It concealed nicely. It was just for appearances, of course. A little bit of normalcy for a special occasion. There was just the slightest bulge visible when he slipped his walkie into a coat pocket. "Besides, best I can figure, the closest thing we have to the Internet these days is Schrodinger. You might have met him; fuzzy orange bastard, disappears for days at a time and then shows up to steal your food. Hey, you about ready?"

Picking up her coat she nodded, having taken in the information. Slipping the jacket on, she felt for the side arm she had stashed in it's pocket. She didn't know these people yet and had been allowed to keep it, she intended on carrying it. The knife was...elsewhere. "I would hope so. Let's be on our way," she said as she paused for a moment, glancing around in thought.

Shrugging to herself she headed towards the door. Opening it she stepped out into the chilly air, glad for the coat. "Alright Captain, lead the way."

Ash exited his house and secured the door behind him. After they had descended the front steps and made their way onto the sidewalk, he offered Thana his arm with a polite, "Ma'am?" There would be people arriving on scene shortly, and he needed to take position nearby to go over the last minute details. "Down to the corner and right for about a block. Shall we?"

Gathering the length of her dress in one hand to keep it from dragging the ground, she slipped her free arm through the one he offered and took a deep breath. Hopefully she wouldn't be gawked at as much as she had been when she first arrived. "Let's," she said as she let him lead the way to the wedding site. Her brows rose as she saw the amount of detail and work that had gone into this ceremony. It was rather impressive to say the least. Looking at the chairs her lips pursed slightly as she leaned in somewhat to speak quietly. "Where do we sit?"

"I'm actually performing the ceremony." responded Ash quietly. "No pastor, I'm the commanding officer. Just grab a seat near the front, I'll introduce you formally at the reception. And don't worry. We brought a gift."

"Well don't you just think of everythin'?" she said with a slight smirk on her lips. Glancing around she noticed the people she had been introduced to when she arrived and many more faces she didn't know. Standing at the altar was who she assumed was Jack, looking like he was about to burst. She couldn't help but smile, it was nice to see someone actually that happy during these times. At the same time it was a bit unnerving. Nodding she took a seat near the front on the other side of Miss Sally and waited for the festivities to begin.

The Captain moved to the front and gave Jack a handshake. He took his position at the front of the growing gathering, making sure he had a good lay of the land and direct line of sight on Thana, just in case anyone got ungentlemanly ideas. He retrieved his walkie and gave the planned affirmation: "Wedding party is a go. Everybody to places immediately, radio only for emergencies until further notice. I repeat; wedding is a go, everyone to places, emergency radio only."

🦄 After Miranda - A Firefly Rp - Season 1 (Completed)

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Foy Coiffeur

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Location: Retribution, Conference Room

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This was becoming interesting, and very quickly. Certain types of interesting were more beneficial than others, however. The type of interesting that they were skirting into might possibly lead them into a pitched gun battle right there in the Conference Room. As fun as that might potentially be, it was a hair counterproductive. If anyone was going to kill anyone on this ship, it would be a smooth, clean job wherein the particularly ungrateful interlopers were surgically aerated, their bodies jettisoned above an atmosphered planet to burn away into nothingness via reentry friction. For want of a single crew member, even a Captain, these people figured they were the final authority.

The whole gave Foy some pause, really. Then the facts started to get very interesting indeed. Jahosafat's silent affirmation of what Anisa had said surprised him just a little, true. Reavers as soldiers. The concept seemed to make sense, in an odd sort of way. But Carla... She meant well. Ok, she probably didn't. But she was his colleague; in this regard a professional equal, regardless of the status of her birth.

"Why I declare, Miss Lobo - Such questions more prudently answered following the initial discussion of terms. At present, madame, all we have is a general declaration of loyalty to the Independents, and nigh palpable news of scandal that might embarrass the Alliance. It is all rather ungentlemanly, I should say. Reavers do not make for soldiers. Attack dogs, mayhap. Weaponizing Reavers. It is as absurd a concept as tarnishing feculence."

Foy looked to the people around the room. For a second, he did the quick math of how many bullets he had loaded into firearms on his person vs. the number of new faces, debating the order in which they would have to be killed before the likely event of him taking a bullet. The faster, the more agitated, they would have to go first, if chance favored him, then move on to the more talkative and easily panicked. They always seemed to have a slightly slower draw time than others. His next words covered for this train of thought, "Come now, all of you. I can tell a most charming bit of camaraderie when I see one. Profoundly, I desire your fellowship nothing but the best of luck, provided that your endeavorous windfalls do not negatively impact my own. Now, I do realize the benefits of keeping stoutly "mum" about your proposed dealings on the interim, however, were one to desire membership in your, ah... social club, without revealing specificities, mind you, what might one find in the way of Risk vs. Reward, and how does this go toward alleviating that most common of Rich Mans' ailments - Boredom? I assure you the latter consideration is one of note."

"Then we may discuss the whats and hows, provided the initial stimulates our attentiveness. By your leave, of course madams."