Foy Coiffeur
Location: Merchant Area
The enigmatic and mustachioed Prince Dapper gave a knowing wink in Dorothy's direction. He didn't really want to admit this to himself, but he was rather having a good time traipsing about Newhope, annoying the hell out of Dorothy with his false flirtations, and plying his skills as a former Constable and Central Government Agent in in his attempt to track down their as yet elusive quarry. He was not quite within the boundaries of his Happy Place, but he was in the neighborhood. Now, if only they could catch a quiet and candid glimpse of their endgame before she got along too far, that would put him into a truly better mood.
"Shall we, madame? It would be pitiable were we to be stymied at this juncture by a mere alleyway. Come along, let us see what this unwashed loading space might divulge to us." Foy walked the first few steps into the alleyway, then surreptitiously filled a hand with one of his Colt revolvers as soon as he was out of the viewing range of the majority of the viewing public. This alley was supposed to be the only other means of exiting the dressmaker's shop, the location indicated by the generally unpleasant (but highly skilled) leatherworker he had intentionally overpaid for his insight. Quietly, he explained to Dorothy his intent, even as he looked for signs from within the alleyway.
"Logic suggests that our erstwhile uninvited offender had not exited through the front of the locale. Extrapolating upon that assumption, one is led to believe that said individual stole herself into this locale in order to tend to injury, hence I do not search remotely as hard for signs of blood. However, our villainous vixen may very well have given us the slip, and with fewer instances of foot traffic in this dank and unkempt section of the quarter it should increase the likelihood of my keen observations detecting the direction she may have taken, if any. My goal is to suss out signs of the recently disturbed, you see. I fear that a lack of sign here may very well end this chase, and myself financially put out for it." Foy shook his head slowly. The spike of adrenaline, the changing environments within the last minutes, the overall thrill of the chase had definitely swept him up. If only he were getting paid for it. Nonetheless, he was going to do his job to the best of his ability, and win or lose this investment of his time, he was going to eventually return to his belongings, change into something more suited to his level of refinement, and have a nice evening with his dear friend Jahosafat. Whether this was to celebrate a victory or merely as a farewell celebration sending him upon his way would remain to be seen; he would approach either with equal gusto.
Approaching the rear of the clothiers, Foy took in whatever detail he could ascertain about the place. The trespasser had to have come this way, else was still inside. In the same position, Foy would not have hunkered down unless he knew that the business was a safe house, of sorts, and certainly would not have run straight to an established safe house if he suspected pursuit. No, this was desperation. She would have wanted to leave, he assumed, and this was the most likely place of egress. If he could even determine a direction, it would be a start.
William Harper
Location: Prometheus - Newhope (Docks)
Speaking to the Doctor from Farraday was a cumbersome thing. He was just as verbose as the other man, Foy, but at least his attempt at cheer seemed more genuine. The level of excitement was perhaps a bit much, but Harper had never been to Farraday. Perhaps it was a dull place. From the looks of Dr. Moreau and his friend The Barber, he very much doubted that assumption, however. Such was the variable want of any moneyed individual, he supposed, that having one's basic needs met by strength of coin, one had the luxury of boredom and the desire to go to lengths to alleviate it.
Anisa's comment was not unoticed. Harper used it as a segue to return to his previous task of getting his belongings into his new quarters, with returning commentary of,
"Quite informative, yes. We should discuss this more, later." He gave a quick nod to both Jahosafat and Anisa, addressing them both,
"Doctor, Captain. Excuse me." before taking his leave. It was a short trip to wheel his belongings into the main cargo area and up a straight shot of stairs immediately to one side. Say what you will about the Dragonfly Class vessel, its deckplans were simple and ergonomic, especially for Harper's needs at the moment. It took him a minute to get up the stairs while pulling his belongings behind him, but he really didn't own much at all. It was a circumstance caused by only being three days out of prison after having to abandon the person you once were, before being stuck on an Alliance vessel (which was pretty much the same thing as prison). If there were an upside to the circumstance, it did make relocating himself easy.
Up the stairs, a quick right, and he was in front of his new quarters next to the Bridge. Harper sighed, both in relief and with mild anxiety. Lieutenant William Harper, Alliance Officer and Pilot would officially be classified as MIA by the Fleet after a long while. The
I.A.V. Retribution was officially a Black Ship, and didn't exist anymore. There was nothing proving that he was ever there officially, which would work out to his favor. He didn't have to abandon this persona. Harper was a non-person, and that suited him just fine. Furthermore, there was no manifest that had him as part of this crew yet, either, if there ever would be. He was effectively safe, for the time being, at least from the Alliance. Fingers crossed.
Harper entered his room. It was spartan, as far as civilian lodging went, but compared to his sleeping alcove in the penal colony, or even his room upon the Retribution, it was luxury. A bed, terminal, desk (with chair!), some shelving, and even a plumbing wall unit. It had been years since he had access to his own, personal toilet. A lesser man might have fainted.
He decided not to unpack his few belongings immediately, opting instead to drop it off and return to the rest of the crew outside to load their supplies and sundries into Cargo. There was still a question as to what to do with the personal effects of the fallen crewmembers, even though he had no real interest in picking through their belongings himself. Just something to figure out.
