Foy Coiffeur
Location: Newhope - Lady Luck
Skills: N/A
He didn't expect that the food would be done moments after he put in a request for it, nor did he know what it was going to be, really. So when it did not arrive, Foy was not surprised. However, the speed with which the drinks he requested were served reminded him of two things: 1) In this 'Verse, tipping first ensures prompt service, and 2) The people in charge probably wanted its clientele drunk, as drunk people are freer with their money. It made sense. So, true to request, the server was acquiescent enough to set a low tumbler glass in front of him, plop down a bottle of more or less decent whisky, and see to the drinks of the others at the table. Foy examined the bottle for a second or two, shrugged as if to impart "It'll do", and poured himself two fingers of neat, brown alcohol.
Foy raised his glass and, turning to Mei, answered her question by posing one of his own.
"Why madame, whatever makes you consider that I shan't be doing both, and with rapt proficiency, hmm?" He smiled, leaning back in his chair. There seemed to be no immediate threat from this woman, despite the fact that she seemed quite irritable at the moment. Moreover, she appeared not to recognize him in the least. Sadly, the previous intruder had already opened up about her minor misadventures from earlier, and to the person who posessed his contract, eliminating both his plan and motivations toward the young lady. She had some nerve, that was for certain. Foy resolved not to underestimate her in the same manner that others often did him.
He raised his glass slightly, looking to Dorothy with a quizzically raised eyebrow. One might even imagine he was showing the barest of concern. She seemed to be doing a little better, even so much as to show a touch of sarcasm. Sarcasm, though hardly ever used properly in his estimation, seemed a good sign for her emotional well being. Speaking of which, Foy risked a sideways glance over to the still silent Daphne, hoping to catch a glimpse of any change from the younger Pender sister. He gave a mild shrug upon noting nothing, looked back to Dorothy, and toasted,
"To mischief!" before taking a sip of his very neat whisky and setting the glass back down.
Naturally, it seemed that Jahosafat had a little mischief in mind. He noted the fellow Farradayan's eyes looking in his direction. Foy was unsure as to exactly what he had in mind, but he leaned forward a little, waiting to see if he would throw any cues his way if indeed he was up to something.
Changing topic, he picked up his cards and addressed Fitz,
"Indubitably, Dr. Townsley. That is a novel yet apt way of stating the overall guidelines of my job description to potential contractees. I cut hair, and indeed I make things more entertaining for persons willing to be forthcoming with the breadth of my salary." He raised his glass to the fairly nervous younger man, took another sip, and stated,
"To your health, sir."
William Harper
Location: Newhope - Lady Luck
Skills: N/A
Anisa certainly seemed fond of airlocks. Or more specifically, watching people get sucked out of them for some infraction or another. It was a tad excessive, but luckily he was presently on a stable planet with viable atmosphere, with little to fear from the horrors of suddenly being exposed to the zero pressure and monstrous cold of the Black. Hopefully, this was authoritative posturing more than anything else. Well, he could hope. Working for the woman was like having a tiger by the tail, he figured; as long as you were diligent it was merely frightening. As soon as you let go... Well, maybe it was preferable to just be diligent. And of course, Harper was dancing with her. Maybe he really was crazy.
Though he was a
little disappointed that there was no dip.
As it turned out, someone did interrupt his "tiger by the tail" situation. A tall man with dark hair who appeared to have no problem walking right up to Anisa and beginning a conversation with her in the middle of the dance floor, while she was mid-step with a partner. The gall of some people, but Harper figured that this was about to be an example of Border or Rim style male oneupmanship, and prepared to do what he had to in the situation. Much like in prison, he had to gear himself up to go completely, unexpectedly apeshit on this guy before he could get more than a few words out. Harper and Anisa were not emotionally connected, paeticularly seeing as his life and freedom were threatened by her on more than one occasion, but this is how one survived in his very recent position. The habit would likely always be there, like trauma that never fully heals.
The look on the Captain's face as the stranger started talking quelled that instinct. He had misread the situation. Instead, Harper took on a posture and gait more like the Lieutenant he was a week ago. He looked to the table, noting that no one was dead yet, and immediately got back on the clock, as it were. Luckily, Harper's forethought had him only imbibing a miniscule amount of alcohol, and thanks to his training with the Alliance military he was a passable combatant, if it came down to it. With resolve, he followed Anisa toward the back rooms to continue this discussion with more privacy.
The option to go unexpectedly apeshit was still on the table.
