[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=008080]William Harper[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-joToxLegqZk/UlP_OiXe43I/AAAAAAAAcfs/_sbEOs83YPQ/s400/Peinados+de+hombres+al+estilo+de+Christian+Bale-1.jpg[/img][hr][b][color=teal]Location:[/color][/b] Newhope - Lady Luck 
[b][color=008080]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A[hr][/center]

	As soon as the woman who had offered assistance stepped away and Daphne was off the ground, Harper took a moment to lean in a bit and speak with lowered voice, even as the table erupted with mirth, [color=008080]"For what it's worth, coming from me - I'm sorry this happened."[/color] In truth, he was. But even with his fabricated history, Harper was once an Alliance officer. Some things didn't fly with polished commanders. He wasn't sure if Anisa was particularly [i]polished[/i], persay. The Fleet was polished. Hell, Captain Quinn was polished. Anisa was no-nonsense, certainly. Maybe not polished in the strictest sense of the word, but she was pretty strict. Not someone to mess with, at the very least. A line had been crossed, and it wasn't the first time. [color=008080]"Hey, I'll get you another drink before supper shows up, okay?"[/color] It was a polite gesture perhaps, though he knew it ultimately would not make up for her contract being terminated a moment ago. 

	Then something truly odd happened: The woman who was hanging around them started speaking to the Captain. Not just speaking, but confessing. Harper was not present for the [i]dram[/i] that unfolded in the Retribution's cargo hold, nor the chase afterward. He did hear about it. And it was a cause of some concern for him when he did. Suffice it to say, this woman did not look like Alliance. She didn't carry herself like Alliance. And he was pretty sure that, if it came down to it, they could set her down into a warm, quiet hole someplace covered in lime and topsoil without the Alliance batting an eyelash about it. So there was a Plan B. Excellent. He couldn't wait to hear more. 




[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=f9ad81]Foy Coiffeur[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://snippetstudios.files.wordpress.com/2014/05/a-million-ways-to-die-in-the-west-640x350.png [/img][hr][b][color=f9ad81]Location:[/color][/b] Newhope - Lady Luck 
[b][color=f9ad81]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A[hr][/center]

	A smile spread across Foy's face as his good, dear friend Jahosafat spoke. Like himself, the ebon gentleman has a particular proclivity for the appropriate use of words to suit both his Farradayan palate of verbiage [i]and[/i] get his point across in a manner that was easily digestible by the Esteemed Mr. Coiffeur. [color=f9ad81]"Oh indeed, my dashingly insightful sir. It is truly a parallel not too horribly unlike the works of the nigh legendary Dame Anthropologist studying the comings and goings of the lesser able; though whilst her field of social inquiry lay scattered about the tree-climbing throwers of fecalate, we have..."[/color] he gave it a half moment to consider the best manner to continue his thought before shrugging it off. [color=f9ad81]"Well sir, I suppose in ways it is not too horribly dissimilar; and thus I concur with the findings of my honored colleague, which would be yourself, without doubt."[/color]

	Were he to look at the situation objectively, Foy might have the good sense to realize that, if his situation progressed much further, he might find himself with much more in common with his new companions. Even so, he was a man of breeding, education, and refinement. Dirt poor (perish the thought!), he would likely still think highly of himself in comparison to others. Well, many others. Foy recognized peers, like the one with whom he spoke presently. 

	[color=f9ad81]"Further, Josie old boy, I find that I am in situational accord with your suggestion of immediate and appropriate festivities concerning the relocation and Grand Reopening of the Gentleman's Parlour mere mortals refer to with the otherwise pedestrian though [i]terribly[/i] clever title of "The Foy-er". A reverent yet raucous occasion, if ever there was one!"[/color] A flick of his hand brought his derringer back into its quick release holster as a new idea came to mind, this one possibly more appropriate to the atmosphere he hoped to generate with the help of his childhood friend. [color=f9ad81]"Indubitably, that is the very one, regarding [i]both[/i] your choice of music [i]and[/i] the status of the woman below. But given your phenomenal sense of propriety and accuracy of celebratory necessities for this most auspicious of occasions..."[/color] 

	[color=f9ad81]"I must insist; after [i]you[/i]."[/color]