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

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Foy Coiffeur

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Location: Foy-er

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"My, that is certainly the colorfully ribald dialogue, coming from a Shepherd, Shepherd." mused Foy, wrapping a hot, damp towel around Atticus's face and neck. To avoid the brunt of a potentially tense situation, he followed up quickly, "Never you worry, Preacher. I take my ancestral occupation with the utmost of stern professionalism. Whereas I might be the sort to shoot someone in the back, while in my chair you are guaranteed the pinnacle of gentlemanly behavior."

Atticus would have easily heard the sound of metal scraping across rough leather in rhythmic motions; a sound commonly associated with the honing of a straight razor. "Of course, there are more contemporary methods of personal grooming, but I find that the archaic remains the solitary path to the perfect shave - requisites include a steady hand and talent that comes from long years' experience. Were it otherwise, my good sir, the Art leaves the action. Circumstances become trite, even boring. And that simply cannot do."

Foy glanced around the room, even perked an ear to ascertain any footsteps coming up the corridor. He sighed, a little let down. Foy was hoping for a bit more company in his parlor, both to get an idea as to the general nature of these people and because the vast majority of these Alliance people were so two-dimensional it was beyond tiring. At least his good friend Jahosafat was on board now. Kept things interesting. Except today, he was a man in mourning. He would have to schedule some sit-down time with the man later today.

"So, straight razor for proper edging, thinning cutters to maintain the robust, craggy splendor on your cheekbones, and ahh.... yes, I do like the shape and line of your locks, my potentially dapper sir. If I may, I should recommend a rakishly diagonal part for your hair and possibly a flame motif for the stubbly portion of your provocative visage?"

"And if I may be so bold, would you suppose your gruff and surly Captain would entertain the possibility of retaining my services? It would appear the entourage is short a gun or two, and a touch of gentlemanly class, besides. Oh, present company emphatically excepted, mind. Ah, well. Towel's done its work, let us begin."

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William Harper

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Location: Retribution, Medical (eventually)

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Harper's steps carried him from the bridge and down the main corridor. He poked his head into many of the rooms designated as open to the general crew, looking for the Browncoat pilot. Funny how things work out sometimes. He considered his folly, looking for someone in places that ordinary Alliance personnel would be found - these people were by nature outlaws, probably moreso than himself. The thought that these people would stick to regulations was laughable. But it was a method of organization to his search, even if it was foolish. It's not like he didn't have time for it.

His search eventually brought him down the corridor to Medical, where he found, strangely, that he was being mentioned. Harper considered clearing his throat, knocking, something to indicate his presence, but the smallest touch of mischief won out over more sensible options. Without announcing himself, he added to the conversation in play. "A respectable amount of Independent pilots were Alliance trained. Majority, ma'am, if you'll believe it. I assure you, I'm quite proficient."

"Your Captain requested I give you instruction operating Alliance vessels, ma'am. Namely, this patrol boat. It handles differently than a Firefly vessel and has additional features. Whenever you're ready." Harper motioned to the door, removing himself from Daphne's path to the corridor.

🦄 Soulless Regency - Merged With T.S.

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_{"Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and unto God the things that are God's."}

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Location: Carriage (en route to Almack's)

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Shock slapped Mary, hard and fast, though she took pains trying not to let it show on her face. Formality was one of her strong points, right alongside respect for her place in the hierarchy of her Church, her Order, and her family. She had just committed a blunder in this regard, whether or not Elizaveta truly felt no offense at her presumptions. Romanova? Of course, that was the name of the Russian ruling family. Why had she not put it together?

To be fair, the daughters of the First Family of Russia were supposed to be deceased. But that still wouldn't excuse using the simple title of "Lady" with a woman of Royal lineage. Mary was humbled. Especially when this Grand Duchess just referred to her as "Lady Mary". For a fraction of a second, the young Sister doubted the woman's claim, but judgement told her that her face held no dishonesty. This was a Royal, not a Noble.

"Your Imperial Highness," she began, remembering the proper method of initiating speech with someone of her standing, "Please forgive my earlier statements. I had incorrect assumptions concerning Your Grace. And to readdress the request you made of me in the Undercroft - I would be honored many times over to be your entourage for the evening, provided I may fulfill my obligations to my Order." It pained her to think that she had turned the conversation over, asking in turn if she would accompany Mary.

Indeed, they would have a lot to discuss later in the evening. A passing thought took her for a moment, "If it please Your Grace, I do not have the title of Lady. I am the daughter of a hereditary Knight, which means nothing in this country because I was born a woman. The Church allowed me to earn the titles of Sister and Dame, appropriate to the role I fulfill from task to task. I do not presume to correct, merely to clarify. I am of course at your service, Your Grace, so long as it does not contradict my duty to the Order."

Sister Mary had considered the possibility of enjoying a relaxing ride through London, but it was apparent to her that her sense of humility and obligation wouldn't let that happen tonight. She was ever on the clock, and what's more, now the Imperial Entourage of the Grand Duchess of the Russian Empire. It was most definitely an interesting day. It promised to get more interesting, too. For now, all Mary could do was remain sharp and keep this important woman polite company while waiting to arrive at Almack's. It was humorous, if just a little - the Soulless Hunter had made friends with a dead lady. (!?)

Very interesting day, indeed.

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

Not that he couldn't. Rumor has it that he's very big.

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

I think I see where some confusion is. @The Grey Dust, the gruff and snarly brigade of Keystone, Sana, and Kyra are outside of the tavern, near the stables. Haven't entered just yet, but (speaking for Keystone), they intend to. Next post, maybe. If Satilla is still with the group from the Temple, she's not inside, either.

@rivaan, again, we haven't entered just yet, but an additional caveat: Keystone's offer to pick up a meal was for Kyra and Sana. BUT, his exact words were "If'n you lovelies want, food an' first round's on me." Assuming that Satilla and Cyneburg are with the group outside, that would make four women ("lovelies", to use the underclass vernacular) near Keystone when he said it. He might have to bite the bullet on that one, but thinking about it, that's really an IC issue to resolve.

[sarcasm font]Ooh, social blunder! That never happens to Keystone.[/sarcasm font]

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

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Caesar Gonzalez

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Location: Morgue

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Caesar was waiting on Cecily to wrap up her phone call before suggesting they head out. It never occurred to him that she was trying to speak to him. His head was obviously not in a clear spot right then. That kind of lapse in observation could get him killed. Probably others, too. He shook his head and looked up to respond to his young companion. The instant he did, the satellite phone in his hands vibrated. Another message had come in from his British associate. Strangely, it was good news.

"Client leaving. Too late to cook proper. Valentino's?"

"Lo ciento. East side of the Diamond District. Place called Valentino's. Hour, hour-thirty. Big man's meeting us there." It would take them a lot less than a hour to get there, unless traffic truly gridlocked. They might even have time to stop off at Boston Heights if they left immediately. But he doubted that there would be a need for that. Besides, Caesar would rather get there early and size their man up.

"Good. Table for four. One hour."

As long as they had a little time before they left, Caesar felt it might be prudent to check on his ride, make sure everything was in place and things that shouldn't be there were not. The last thing he needed was more complications that evening. He looked to Cecily and intoned in a quiet voice (seeing as she was still on the phone), "Oye niña, going to check on my trike. Back in few minutes."

Caesar was not stupid. He was acting in a manner that was observant but casual until he got outside of the building, and with his trike he was thorough, fast, and careful. Saddlebags, motor, gas tank, exposeable wiring or electronics. Tentatively, he cranked up his Harley and moved it to another location, out of sight lines from its initial location, close to the Morgue's exit and underneath the scrutiny of a security camera. Yes, he was very possibly paranoid. But many had died. This whole situation wasn't a conspiracy theory, it was a full-blown Conspiracy, period. He swiftly returned to Cecily's office/lab. Hopefully, nothing tragic had happened in the last few minutes.

🦄 Soulless Regency - Merged With T.S.

@Morose

A bumper sticker for the Crypt Family carriage.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

Yeah...

That was going to be addressed the next day by Newnan's management. Haven't figured out exactly what to do yet, but it might be interesting.

🦄 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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The Lord Major was contemplating the best way to phrase his response to Aziza's question, that being a desire to know if everything was "all right". It was a difficult question to answer, if one really got down to it. His hesitation gave a conversational opening that the Scandinavian journalist utilized to covey his point of view of the situation downstairs. He paused, trying not to interrupt until a proper moment availed itself.

"I'm afraid I cannot respond to your question honestly without confessing ignorance, Miss Tarek." Reginald began. "There have been very strange happenings these past few hours; related incidents or not is the guess of men wiser than myself. I do not expect, madame, that Fate is through with its slings and arrows. The alarms initially caught my attention, which I found out was not a simple coincidence. Speaking of which, your villain downstairs? So far as is concerned, as Mr. ...ah, Elvs-gaard? Yes, quite - Elvsgaard mentioned, he is in custody of the local authority. What our representative of the Press surmised incorrectly is the reason for our Royal Military's presence."

Reginald looked to each of the people in the room, one by one, with serious expression. "They are not here specifically to perform guard duty, you see. Nor can they without either a verifiable need or permission of the proprietor, unless it is a government run establishment. I ordered them to provide escort." He let the words hang there for a second. "Unless you provide unilateral refusal, these men are to escort you back to barracks for your own safety. We have been marked, literally and figuratively, and I fear that tonight's disturbances thusfar are merely the first course in what promises to be a long and filling meal of intrigue and ill event."

"Some of our fellowship is already present, in dignitary's quarters. Until we better understand the nature of our situation, safety would be better found in organized numbers."

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

@FantasyChic

You're going to have to remind me, if you would please - How have the Franklin people been treated unfairly?

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

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Keystone

Location: Crossed Swords Inn & Tavern

Interacting With: Sana, Kyra

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Wrangling Sana toward the Inn wasn't a really difficult task. She was wiry and strong, but Keystone was a very large, physically sculpted individual. Helping a moderately pissed off Bard get around was a cinch. The occasional looks from townsfolk were stared down with pressing, silent intimidation in short order; their demeanor even served to clear the path of what few people tarried before them. In truth, some of them probably heard rumors of the Chi-infused hindquarter blast from a week prior and, quickly placing 2 and √4 together, didn't want to hang too close around the scarred monolith of a man.

Even if Keystone's more recent reputation wasn't sufficient to make the locals wary, the mere sight of the two of them, battle and road weary, damaged armor and scarred from countless rips and burns of careers spent doing things common folk could not fully comprehend, wearing looks of grim determination - it was more than enough to convince anyone in that town catching sight of them to give a clear berth. They rounded the side of the Crossed Swords, oddly to catch sight of Kyra's back, standing near Ntaj.

The unexpected emotional response from Kyra took Keystone by surprise. Not enough to back away from the two women embracing; such an act would leave Sana unsupported. But he did reflexively tense his core muscles, halfway anticipating some manner of assault forthcoming. Lucky for him, it was just sisterly concern. He felt a bit like an interloper now, not moving away. But they'd have to deal with his presence for the meantime.

Sana's tactless (but rather accurate) concern that Yomdi was trying to do her in prompted a response. "What? Ain't a long story, really. Master what runs the Yellow Rose Temple 'ad a look at our girl, did a bit o' Monk-y business, and now she's tops, more or less." Keystone's choice of makeshift vocabulary aside, his prominent underclass accent probably wasn't doing wonders for his credibility. "But me an' her's in agreement 'bout that first part. I could do with a big meal and a pitcher of ale. If'n you lovelies want, food an' first round's on me. I'm wantin' Cremmy's silver out m'coinsack fair quick, y'understand."

He gave a second of thought, glancing down at himself and at his companions. In a slightly more businesslike tone, he spoke again. "Right. We're also gonna want to rest, repair, an' provision, as we can. Been in a number of tussles with the Undead, I 'ave. There might be a quiet spot whilst they sharpen their sharps and get reinforcements, but whoever's in charge ain't gonna stop 'til they get what they're after or they're painful convinced to change their mind."

"I'm gonna need someone can fix up my coat. Leatherworker or armorer, likely. And I need to restock my nonperishables and road eats. We'd be wise to get an exit plan, 'cause we're like to need it. Sana, I'm helping you inside. I suggest we all get behind a wall and 'ave a chat."