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

[BlueSky44]

Daphne Pender

---

Location: Prometheus: Lower Deck: Single Top (7)
Skills: None

---

Daphne knew that they needed to talk eventually, but she was a little surprised to hear that they needed Dorothy to help out with a medical emergency. She was relieved to ignore the conversation for a little while, but she was curious as to who it was that needed help right then. They hadn't even been back and ready to do their jobs or whatever, and someone already was dying. This crew never seemed to catch a break or something when it came to that.

She thought about following her sister, to see if she could help her, but decided against it, figuring she'd just get in the way. Instead, she headed back in her room, to check on Fitz. The guy really needed to learn to calm down or something, but he didn't seem to be doing that at all. "Hey, it'll be alright Fitz, calm down a little bit," she said, closing the door behind her and walking over to him. She gave him a smile, hoping to be able to calm him in some way.

[Sigil]

---

---

Foy Coiffeur

---

Location: Prometheus (Foy's Parlor) -> Upper Deck: Outside Foyer
Skills: Perception

---

While not an overly selfish man, Foy looked at the situation logically. He was simply not equipped to deal with the fate of a man who was on the cusp of death, not unless he was the guy who put him there. Even then, there would be significantly more blood exposed to open air were he involved, be it spread about by the application of random sharp implements or, and statistically more likely, a hail of well-placed gunfire. He was awfully fond of his Callahan in that regard; it really rounded out his options in a firefight and had an intimidating silhouette. But that was neither here nor there. In this instant, Foy was powerless to do anything for anyone aside from stand there and sip, sip, sip his coffee, nonchalantly leaning in the doorway to the Foy-er.

He could see the exertion building on Jahosafat's face, the perspiration building. Foy would spare his friend the indignity of such sweat-inducing pursuits, seeing as they were not related to the understandable activities of training, wenching, or engaging in a gentlemanly "row" (preferably involving knuckle-out fisticuffs). But this was his chosen occupation, and Foy would attest that Jahosafat was indeed quite talented at his profession. It would seem right that he invest his energies and the very water of his life into practicing the medicinal arts, just as Foy might be seen sporting a sheen of moisture across his brow on the occasions that he had to take up arms and/or leave a lasting impression whereever his contract holders requested that an impression last.

All at once, the dapper practitioner of all things Barber-y straightened from his position of leaning repose with a sudden look of realization. A minor "Aha!" moment, if you will. He deftly skirted around the people involved with the medical emergency directly, coming to stop within direct line of sight with their pilot, Harper. The wheels of Foy's mind turned and grated, but only for a second. There was a life in the balance, of course. "I say, you have the look of a very relaxed but horribly vestigial human being just this minute. However would you like to do something beneficial, that does not involve your scrutinizing the repetitive motions of Captain Crowe atop our dear Brother Atticus?"

---

---

William Harper

---

Location: Prometheus (Corridor to the fore of the Lounge, near Foy's Parlor) -> Upper Deck: Outside Foyer
Skills: N/A

---

Harper looked into Foy's eyes, his own narrowing in response to the man's not-quite-accusatory statement. He was an educated man, and as such was fully capable of following the ins and outs of Foy's constant verbal ...Foyness. It was like he was digging for information without actually asking questions. In this particular instance, it looked like he actually needed something. Harper didn't say a word, merely responding by nodding his head slowly and assuming a more active stance. His hands came together in front of him and cocked his head to one side, imitating the appearance of impatience.

"Splendid, Lieutenant Harper!" retorted Foy, turning around and striding in the direction of the ship's fore. He continued to speak as he walked, confidant that the pilot was following him. "You seem the stalwart and physically apt fellow, despite your former seeming emaciation, my good man." He was of course referring to the day that he appeared on the docks at Persephone, fresh on a new assignment with his orders in hand. Harper was admittedly a little wiry that day, and in fact still was, though the past couple of weeks were beneficial to him in that regard.

Still without speech, Harper fell into step behind Foy, one part of him curious as to what he had in mind and another part simply pleased that he was doing something useful. He hoped, anyway. If this Farradayan was leading him away to help reorganize his collection of fine, silk ties, then Harper may have to readdress his feelings about the Captain's stance on airlock based capital punishment. But as it was, Foy was leading them fore a bit farther, and now at quickening pace.

A matter of seconds later, the pair of them arrived at the door to Jahosafat's quarters. The casual nature of the morning, up until the pressing cardiac event, led to the eventuality of an unlatched door, allowing the two of them access to the private room of the Farradayan doctor. To Harper, it felt like a breach of privacy. Curiosity got the better of him, however, and he filed into the room behind Foy. The bespoke suited dandy had already moved to a rather large, flat-topped chest toward the back of the room and popped the fitted lid from it completely, revealing a selection of fine, well cared for hats. Just lovely, immaculate, and brushed hats of leather, suede, felt, even. It really was an amazing collection of quality headwear. The sight of it made a single wire of growing, stinging heat blossom in Harper's mind. For a moment, it looked like he really did want him to help with some bit of redundant uppercrust knickknacks.

The idea of bashing him in the back of his finely coiffed head with his spanner and then stuffing his still twitching corpse into the steamer chest full of hats was becoming more and more plausible with each passing nanosecond. Then he might then return to the ongoing emergency and swear up and down that he had no idea what happened to the arrogant bastard. Then Foy said something unexpected: "I say, don't act the surly stone obelisk, Harper; lend the metaphorical and literal hand - or some two, I should say, and let us appropriate this trunk lid as an impromptu body board so that we may transport our comrade-in-arms to the Medical Bay proper. Shall we?"

There was a note of relief when Harper realized that Foy was actually attempting to work in the best interests of the Shepherd. Not only that, but he had a fairly good idea as well. "All right. You get that end." A truce of sorts between the two men, perhaps. For the meantime, the two men brought the wide, reinforced lid from Jahosafat's quarters back to the scene of the ongoing emergency and laid it down to one side of Atticus and the continuing attention of Jahosafat, Anisa, and now Dorothy. "Let us know when we can move him." Harper said flatly.

[FantasyChic]

---

---

Mei Qiáo and Jacqueline Croix

---

Location: Prometheus: Outside the "Foy"er
Skills: N/A

---

Truth be told, both women felt rather useless in this situation. If it were battle or cards, then either of them would have a fighting chance at prevailing. However, as it was, they had no medical knowledge to speak of. Mei would not have offered even if she did. It seemed both doctors had good training. Even as Captain Crowe took over, she still seemed to have some semblance of knowing what to do. Or she could fake it rather well.

Jackie fought hard to not just walk away and pretend the situation wasn't happening. She didn't want to piss off Captain Ballcruncher (who gave her a serious look, one that read "fuck me, right?"). Still, she had no intention of jumping in. She glanced as Barber Boy ran to the pilot dude and spoke with him as the two ran off. She wanted to follow, but as previously mentioned, she also didn't want to just leave.

Mei looked about as they all worked in tandem with each other. She felt useless. "Is there anything I can do?" She asked to no one in particular, though she expected either doctor or the Captain to give her some idea of what use she could have. A death on board already would not be great for morale.

And what of this death? Jackie debated it in her head. Was it his health catching up to him? Or was it something more? And if it was more, who would do it? From what Jackie gathered, the lot had been traveling together for at least some branch of time. Surely if Jesus Freak pissed them off, they would have knocked him off without added people on board? Or was that what they wanted them to think?

Or she could just be blowing this out of proportion.

[Lady Absinthia]

---

---

Jahosafat & Anisa

---

Location: Prometheus: Upper Deck: Outside Foyer, Upper Deck: Outside Foyer
Skills: Medical Jack of All Trades, Athletics

---

Jahosafat looked over to Dorothy and nodded. Reaching out and taking the adrenaline from her. "Thank you Doctor, please administer the bag while I inject the adrenaline. Captain, if you would be so kind, move your shapely rear away from our patient at this time. We can handle it from here," he said in a cool and calm voice. There was no doubt a pushy tone to his voice as well, something that probably would not have gone over normally well towards Anisa but she acquiesced quickly and moved out of the way.

It struck her quickly that he had said our patient, not my patient. Her eyes darting over towards Dorothy for a moment. It seemed he looked at Dorothy as his partner, if only in a medical sense. This was good, the less issues they had with the medical team getting along the better. If those two could work together, then perhaps there was a chance the rest would fall in line.

Pulling the sterile pack from around the needle Jahosafat ripped open the Preachers shirt and with a single hammering motion drove the needle through his chest plate and into his heart. He pushed the plunger down and injected the man quickly. He gasped for breath, his eyes slamming open and sat up before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he was down again.

"Doctor, if you would, keep bagging. Alright men, let's get him onto the board," he said as he reached under Atticus and grabbed him by the shoulders. "On three - one, two, three." He said before hefting Preacher onto the board and stepping back. "To medical quickly now."

Grabbing the defibrillator, Jahosafat rushed ahead and ran as quickly as he could to medical to clear off one of the exam tables. Once it was he was ready for when they arrived. Anisa looked at the others as she stood there. "Get breakfast, get dressed. We will meet once this situation is tended to about our job," she said in a flat voice before making sure to walk behind the men and Dorothy as they headed down to medical with Atticus. There really wasn't anything else she could do but he was part of her crew, one of her oldest members. She would stay near for now.

[Sigil]

---

---

Farpoy

---

Location: Prometheus, Outside Foy-er -> Med Bay

Skills: Athletics (Coordination), Athletics (Endurance)

---

---

This was not the first time that William Harper and Foy Coiffeur stood on opposite ends of a heavyish load, moving something from Point A to Point B. Last time, it was a straight shot up the length of a larger vessel, from the cargo hold to the lounge area at the fore. Be it a longer walk, it was straight and even, in a wide corridor with plenty of wiggle room. This ship was admittedly smaller, more homey in nature, and it was not built exclusively for warfare. In this instance, it meant that moving about the ship occasionally required a less than direct path.

Take for example their present burden to move. Both men were from the I.A.V. Retribution initially, before the crews merged, meaning that they were recently acquainted with the good Shepherd. And while they were not exactly friends, there was an underlying set of motivating influences that prompted the two very different men to move with the utmost of dexterity and grace that they could muster. Harper's dexterity and grace really came to him mostly when he had his hands were occupied with tools or upon the console of a ship. But he could keep sustained activity up for a long, long time if necessary, and under adverse conditions. Foy, on the other hand, seemed to be agility personified. As the two men made the lift, elevating the ailing preacher from the floor by means of the pilfered lid, Foy took the lead. He turned to check the direction they intended to go, looked back to Harper, and leaned forward with the words, "At the trot then, Lieutenant? There's a vigorous fellow..."

Harper dutifully lifted his end of the large lid, shrugging off the interesting and vaguely insulting series of words that seemed to perpetually flow from the impressively manicured man, focusing directly on the work in front of him. On the one hand, he needed to get this guy to the infirmary as quickly as possible. On the other, Harper had no intention of letting the man fall off of the board. So as Foy stepped as lively as he could while still maintaining a clean press to his very expensive trousers (which was actually quite impressive), Harper resolved to steady the man's trip.

In this case, the "trip" started off with a short hustle to the fore. The nearest stairs were in the other direction, but they were a much smaller, spiral set. There was a much more suitable set of stairs ahead of them, however, that led to Cargo. Cautioned haste propelled them toward and down the metal steps, after which a prompt backpedal had the unlikely pair hustling Atticus toward the aft. Had the Foyer and Medical been on the same floor, it would have been a fifteen foot journey. Instead, this seemingly simple operation took them up one part of the ship, back down the other, and finally to their intended destination.

As soon as Atticus was loaded quickly and carefully upon the exam table, Harper breathed a sigh of relief and got the hell out of the way. There were persons of higher and much more appropriate education pertaining to the situation that needed to get closer to the man. Harper was pleased to oblige. Foy likewise stepped out of the way, finding a pleasant spot away from the action by the door. He casually leaned upon it, drew a tiny unguent jar from his vest pocket, and oiled the tips of his very fine moustache with its contents. Harper took a step back, focusing on Anisa for a second or two before he spoke. "Captain?" he began with a soldier's businesslike tone, in contrast to his tone behind closed doors earlier that morning and even sharper contrast to his tone late the previous evening. "Do you need me here, or would you prefer I gave Medical their space?"

[FantasyChic]

---

---

Mei Qiáo and Jacqueline Croix

---

Location: Prometheus: Outside the "Foy"er -> Respective Rooms
Skills: N/A

---

Mei took the non-answer to her question as a way of saying they would handle this. Two doctors on the man, surely he was in capable hands. And the Captain seemed not as worried as she once was. Mei bowed, "As you wish Captain." Mei took one final glance towards Atticus' direction before turning to head to her bedroom.

Jackie noticed things were going to be happening elsewhere and she was no longer needed. Damn, she wanted to watch. She nodded understanding at Captain Ballcruncher before she called after Mei. "Hey Ling-Ling, wait up! Let's walk together." Mei glanced back with narrow eyes as Jackie caught up. "My name is Mei. It would do you good to remember that." Jackie held up her hands in mock defense. "Whoa, sorry. Trying to come up with clever nicknames on the spot is hard. It's my thing though. If you have one you'd rather be called, I'm all ears."

Mei fought off every urge to take the woman out, but she knew the Captain invited her on board to see how she would perform. If the Captain trusted her, Mei would at least remain cordial. "Mei is fine, thank you." Jackie made a sort of "tch" noise. "Nah see, I would be letting everyone down if I actually called you by your name. Like there's Barber Boy and Captian Ballcruncher. Come on, clever right?" Mei rolled her eyes, but made it to her room. "Clever or not, you are a part of this crew. Treating others with respect will yield more...pleasant results than I am sure you have gotten."

Jackie rolled her eyes now. "Life's too short to live it with a stick up your ass. Sometimes you gotta let loose, hit people with sticks, drink, have sex, and live like it's the last day. I prefer to have fun, but if you are questioning my work ethic, I didn't just come on here because it was a free bed. I mean, have you seen the Captain? She scares me, and that's saying something!" Mei had to admit, she was not expecting such an outlook from her, but she had some truth to her statement. "Fair enough Miss Croix. I will be changing and resuming my coffee drinking until we are needed. Feel free to join me if you wish." With that, Mei turned to gather clothes to change.

Jackie decided to change too, but she had other plans. She wondered where the Ditz was at? And Fitz for that matter.

[Morose]

---

---

Fitz Townsley

---

---

Location: Prometheus: Lower Deck: Single Top (7)
Skills: None

---

In hindsight, Fitz realized that none of this would have happened had he fallen asleep in his own lodgings the previous night. He could have traced this unfortunate chain of events even farther back, going to the moment he decided to leave Osiris. Or perhaps, it was when one of his engineering professors told them about their time working on an Alliance crew, traveling the 'Verse and practicing their trade at the same time. He could even draw a connection to the time when he was six and Abigail Riaz had punched him in the face, knocking out one of his baby teeth. Or ultimately, back to his conception - or even further back, to when his parents had been conceived. The more he thought about it, the more he was able to draw an exact line of cause and effect that went back to the Big Bang.

None of this, of course, provided him any comfort. He was hiding inside Daphne's blankets like a cocoon, having even crawled underneath her bed for good measure. He inched forward slightly until his hand was able to curl around one of the metal supports for the bed, just in case anyone tried to grab him by the feet and drag him out, in order to space him. "I-I-I-I-I....I-I-I-I-I....I-I-I-I-I....D-d-d-did y-y-you k-know the mi-mi-mitochondria i-is the pow-powerhouse of t-the c-c-c-c-cell?" Fitz stammered. He didn't know much biology, but his twin sister had often reminded him of that fact, though he wasn't quite sure why she had felt a need to.

Fitz then fell silent again. He wasn't ever going to crawl out from this place. He'd just ask Daphne to change rooms with him and eventually, they'd realize he was dead and they'd find his corpse down there. He was going to spend the rest of his life hiding here and he was perfectly okay with that. There were worse ways to die - and apparently, someone on the ship might be test running one of them for him.

---

---

Dorothy Pender

---

---

Location: Prometheus: Upper Deck: Outside Foyer ---> Lower Floor: Medical
Skills: Perception, Medicine, Life Sciences

---

Dorothy nodded, beginning to administer the Ox Bag to Atticus without question. She hadn't picked up so much on Jahosafat referring to the Preacher as being their patient, so much as she did her fellow doctor dismissing the eager requests to help. It was music to her ears. One of the largest issues they had with the last crew, sadly, was that there were too many cooks in medical. And only one of them (Dorothy) had any training. But still, Genevieve had attempted to insist that she could help. Sadly, it seemed that only now that Genevieve was gone that her psychological training was in high demand.

"On it," Dorothy acknowledged, continuing to administer the bag as Jahosafat ran ahead. It was another benefit to having a second doctor - she didn't have to do all of this prep work herself. There had been occasions where she had so much to do that she had brought in a second set of hands, only to have to quickly teach the basics of whatever procedure she needed to complete that day. Once they had Atticus hoisted up, Dorothy moved with them, attempting to do everything she could for their patient and she continued to administer the ox bag.

She just really hoped that Atticus pulled through - though she also couldn't help but wonder what had caused him to end up like this...

[BlueSky44]

Daphne Pender

---

Location: Prometheus: Lower Deck: Single Top (7)
Skills: None

---

Daphne let out a sigh, figuring that this probably wasn't going to be as easy as she had hoped. Fitz was clearly freaking out about her being related to Dorothy, especially since Dorothy was Anisa's second in command or whatever. She didn't get why he was panicking so much, Dorothy was fine, sure she could be a little protective sometimes, but still. It wasn't like she had the same temper as Anisa, since the Captain definitely could have a slight temper, sometimes anyway.

She walked over to her bed, kneeling down next to it, looking at Fitz. "Look Fitz, there isn't anyone outside of the room, it's safe to come out now," she said, shaking her head at what he was going on about. Nothing he was saying made any sense to her, and she figured that he was probably just really nervous, he certainly sounded like it. "Come on Fitz, it's alright..." she said softly, before she decided to just pulling him out from under the bed, and proceeded to try and drag him out.

[Lady Absinthia]

---

---

Jahosafat & Anisa

---

Location: Prometheus: Lower Deck: Medical (6), Lower Deck: Medical (6) -> Leaning against an escape pod (5)
Skills: Medical ]

---

Anisa stood there as they entered the medical bay and kept back a bit, ready to hand over anything that was needed that the two doctors couldn't get to quickly. Glancing over towards Harper she nodded a bit. "The med team has this under control. Do as the others. Breakfast, and prepare the ship for departure. We will be leaving dock either shortly or this evening," she said as she crossed her arms over her chest and watched the team work. If Atticus became stable they would leave shortly. If he died they would leave this evening after a small funeral for the man. Either way they were off planet today.

Jahosafat didn't pay attention to what Anisa and Harper were up to, he heard them but his attention was focused on Atticus. Asking Dorothy to move when needed as he tried to jump start the Preachers heart again. Over and over again he tried. NO pulse was sustained. It was a good twenty minutes after Harper left the room before Jahosafat took a step back and looked at the clock. He had to call it. He didn't want to but he had to. Some people just couldn't be saved, no matter how skilled the team was. "Time of death: 9:17 A.M."

Anisa stepped forward and rested her hand on the side of the bed where the corpse now lay. Taking a breath. "What the fuck happened to him?" she asked in a dark voice. Jahosafat shook his head as he stood there.

"At this moment I am unable to tell though it does not appear to be foul play. There are no signs of physical trauma nor apparent signs of poison. Do you wish an autopsy?" he asked in a professional manner.

"How long would that take?" she asked as she reached and brushed her fingers through the mans hair.

"Three to four hours depending on pathology, it could take days if an answer to this riddle becomes particularly perplexing."

"Do it, if you haven't given me a fucking answer by lunch, stop," she said before turning and exiting the room. Walking down the hallway a bit she stopped and leaned back against the wall. She needed a moment.

Jahosafat nodded and then glanced towards Dorothy. "If you have not already partaken in a morning meal may I suggest you do so now? or would you prefer to assist in the procedure? I can handle it if you would rather not," Jahosafat said in a kind voice. This was someone that Dorothy had known, a member of the crew from before he joined. He didn't know how close Atticus and Dorothy were but they seemed to have a bond of sorts. That could be difficult when performing such a task and since he was there, he was willing to do it alone to save her the pain.

[FantasyChic]

---

---

Mei Qiáo

---

Location:Personal Room -> Galley
Skills: N/A

---

Mei changed quickly, wondering of Dr. Jahosafat was doing all right. She trusted the man's skills (having been on the receiving end of them, albeit briefly). And she was sure the female doctor (the one who shot her, she would not forget that) was just as qualified otherwise the Captain would not have her on the ship. Hopefully, they would fix the preacher man up and they can get on with the day's activities.

She was tempted to start exploring the ship, but she also did not want to start off on a bad note. So she exited her room, surprised to not see Jackie waiting for her, and made her way back to the Galley, where she would pick up where she left off with coffee and some food.

She made a mental note to herself to join here more often. She rarely relaxed before, often there was no time to.

---

---

Jacqueline Croix

---

Location: Hallway Outside Bedrooms (Lower Floor)
Skills: N/A

---

Jackie casually walked around, taking in the "sights". She had an agenda after all. Since she could not bother Barber Boy anymore and she did not want to step on the toes of Captain Ballcruncher, she opted to see where Fitz was hiding. After all, surely he heard the emergency message too. He seemed like the type to jump up and run around the ship crying. And where was the Ditz?

Jackie had a wicked thought. So she meandered around the hallway, calling out, "Fitzy, where are you? I missed you buddy. Want to go get some breakfast?" She snickered at the thoughts she was having. If she was right, she was vastly impressed with Fitz. She checked his room, not hearing anything inside (but then again, she had already determined he would not be in there).

So she made her way past Ditz's room. She waited outside, should anything happen. Anything at all really.

[Sigil]

---

---

Foy Coiffeur

---

Location: Prometheus (Medical -> Foy's Parlor)
Skills: Perception

---

Though the words were meant for Harper, Foy gave a slight bow at Anisa's words and quietly slipped out of the Med Bay. There was a highly convenient set of spiral stairs leading back to the upper deck, which pleased the extremely well-groomed man to no end. Without the burden of the makeshift stretcher, he could ascend quickly and return to the relative civility (at least from a Farradayan perspective) of his Foy-er. With nothing to really do in regards to either of his given occupations, either as tradesman or as an Independent Contractor, he was essentially left to his own devices. Such was the way of Foy: a gallivanting piece of remarkably well dressed scenery, ready to lend comment or grooming advice to whatever situation he felt required it at the moment, seemingly without care nor obligation to weigh upon him - unless the extremely short-term but inevitable necessity occurred that his skills were required. Such events cemented the oft questioned reasoning behind his presence.

But seeing as no one needed to be shuffled off from their mortal coil, nor even an example made of them in this potentially dark hour, it was best for the Farradayan gentleman to return to his lair to await the moment he might be called upon to ply his trade in earnest. Either of them. That, and he still had the most lovely pot of carefully selected and roasted coffee waiting on him. Such were the pursuits of a gentleman, be he one of industry or leisure.

Upon reaching his the Foy-er, he was a little disappointed to note that the young lady with whom he was passing a fairly mundane but equally entertaining morning was no longer there. "Certainly," he said aloud in a derisive tone, "The luxury of the coffee alone sufficiently warrants the continuation of one's presence, setting aside the magnetism of the conversationalist." He was in fact referring to himself in his little monologue, a thing which he found awfully clever and expressed as much by giving a half smile with one corner of his mouth. Gingerly, he topped off his previously abandoned, pre-emergency cup and took a sip. "Perfection."

In truth, Foy was more than a little concerned with what had just transpired. The Shepherd seemed a lively sort, even okay by his reckoning. At the very least he was not boring, when he wasn't quoting scripture. And he did not want to see his good friend Jahosafat's efforts go in vain. But there was nothing for him to do, no way he could assist. His resolution, then, for the next hour was to enjoy his coffee and afterward make the short walk to the Lounge to engage with the rest of the crew. In the immediate, Foy was going to sit quietly in his parlor and sip.

---

---

William Harper

---

Location: Prometheus (Medical -> Lounge)
Skills: N/A

---

To his credit, Harper did not snap to attention and salute Anisa on the spot. The situation seemed a lot less formal than that at the time. He did cast a glance over at the two medical professionals working on Atticus, letting it linger for a second before focusing back on his Captain. "Right away, Ma'am." he responded, giving her a momentary questioning look before remembering himself, nodding, and exiting Medical. He was part of a crew again, thankfully not Alliance, and he had his own duties to perform for his Captain, whatever the situation may be otherwise.

Harper saw the same spiral staircase that his moustached associate did, and in fact could hear the last of Foy's footfalls at the top of them by the time he reached the bottom. He didn't recall Anisa giving him an order to carry out, though if they were hitting the Black after a bit, he doubted that anyone was going for a trim just then. Of course, much in the same way that the Barber figured there was more to Harper than being a former Alliance pilot, Harper was damned sure that Foy didn't just cut hair and come from money; nor was there any denial on the matter. Foy even made little innuendos about it constantly.

It was of little matter anyway. Harper was ready to leave this rock and get back out into the 'Verse. He had zero problems with preparing Prometheus for a ready takeoff, however he did agree with Anisa's suggestion to grab some breakfast first. So, Lounge it was. By the time he had ascended the staircase and made his way back to the scene of the incident with Atticus, Foy was nowhere to be seen. Judging that he ducked into either his room or his barbershop, a slightly more relaxed Harper made his way down the hall and into the Lounge, which was surprisingly almost unoccupied. Almost.

Mei, the previous stowaway, had gotten the same idea and was sitting down to breakfast. Cautiously at first, Harper traversed the length of the Lounge and into the Galley portion of the room, recovering his coffee. It was quite tepid by now, but he didn't really care. He did take the time to locate and fast-reheat a couple of the sandwiches Atticus prepared the day before, set them on a plate, and grab his cup.

Naturally, an opportunity for one-on-one time like this could not be passed up, and the young lady didn't look like she was going to murder him on the spot, so he politely intoned, "Miss Qiao, was it? Might I join you briefly?"

[Morose]

---

---

Fitz Townsley

---

---

Location: Prometheus: Lower Deck: Single Top (7)
Skills: None

---

Fitz yelped loudly enough to be heard in the hallway as Daphne started pulling him out. He grabbed onto one of the support legs of the beg and held onto it tightly, preventing Daphne from dragging him out from underneath the bed. He heard Jackie in the hallway and started to shake even more as he clung to the frame. She was definitely going to think he had slept with Daphne! And then one of the scary commanding officers was going to throw him out into the cold vacuum of space because of it. He was really regretting not staying back on Osiris - or just having the common sense to not stay in a pretty girl's room talking all night until he fell asleep.

"I-I-I-I l-l-l-like it here..." Fitz fibbed. He was entirely clueless as to the real tragedy happening on the ship and how tiny his problems were in comparison. But that didn't matter. His brain was screaming at him to not crawl out from underneath the bed at any cost. There could have been an army of reavers underneath the bed and he wouldn't have budged. And he was deathly afraid of reavers. It just was further proof of how terrified he was, both of the Captain and her Second in Command.

---

---

Dorothy Pender

---

---

Location: Prometheus: Lower Floor: Medical
Skills: Perception, Medicine, Life Sciences, Discipline

---

At first, Dorothy was completely in denial that anything would happen to Atticus. He was tough and stubborn; and sure, they'd lost crew members before but not him. He was too irritating to die. If he did die, he'd surely make a point of rising again, just to compare himself to one biblical character or another. Dorothy was certain of it. She didn't voice any of this, silently working alongside Jahosafat in an attempt to save Atticus' life. It was by the fifteenth minute that her certainty in Atticus' survival began to slip. A cold feeling came over her entire body and she felt sick to her stomach, as if her heart itself was aching, but she kept on working to try and revive him. Jahosafat's words hit her like a bullet to the stomach. She bit her lip, forcing herself to look away from Atticus.

"...No, I think work is best right now," Dorothy said, though her voice was rather quiet. As she looked down at Atticus' lifeless body on the medical bed, her eyes watered but she blinked back the tears, attempting to stay strong. She didn't want to go eat breakfast and think about Atticus' lost life. Keeping busy would be the best way to distract her mind, especially from a ridiculous question that kept on plaguing her. She hadn't fancied Atticus - he was just a friend. A very good friend. Someone she had grown to care for. Someone...

Dorothy stopped her thoughts for a moment. Atticus was dead. The very least she could do would be to privately admit what she had never told him in life - that she was sweet on him. She liked him, despite all of his many faults.

[BlueSky44]

Daphne Pender

---

Location: Prometheus: Lower Deck: Single Top (7)
Skills: None

---

"Fitz, come on... You can't stay under there forever you know..." she said gently, letting go of him and just looking under the bed at him. She froze when she heard Jackie's voice, she was definitely not the person she wanted to see first thing in the morning, since to her the woman was mental. Then there was the issue of Fitz, as she was almost positive of what Jackie probably would be thinking had happened between the two of them if she saw Fitz leave her room. This was not exactly a very good situation to be in.

Daphne looked back at Fitz, letting out a sigh, "Okay, I do not blame you from hiding, I would too if Jackie was showing up out of nowhere. Honestly she is really annoying if you ask me... Look Fitz, you need to get out of there, there was a call about a medical emergency or something, and we should probably go see what happened," she said gently, looking at him. He really needed to get over his nerves about all of this and just relax, but she doubted that he would.

[FantasyChic]

---

---

Mei Qiáo and William Harper

---

Location: Galley
Skills: N/A

---

Mei glanced up briefly to see Harper enter. She had hardly talked to the man at the bar last night and did not know what to make of him. He seemed like a capable man, but for all she knew he was a horrible pilot. The only thing she did have to go on was that the Captain seemed fit to keep him on board, so he must be good for something.

"Not at all Mr. Harper, but we are crewmates now, so please, call me Mei." She gestured at the chair closest to her, wondering what the man wished to speak about.

Harper's eyes narrowed as he sat. It was a look of scrutiny more than anything else. He was not physically present for the stowaway incident, nor the shooting, nor the mostly unsuccessful tracking attempt by Dorothy and Foy. Like himself, Mei was a bit of an enigma. Harper didn't stay alive in the conditions he did by staying uninformed, even if that information came in the way of what was not said. Of course, sitting on info under the guise of "Not My Business" was a damned good tactic, too. In any case, as soon as he was settled in the chair across from his new crewmate, he gave a friendly smile and sipped his formerly hot coffee. "Mei." he repeated back to her. "It is a lovely name, Mei. Simple. Not overstated. I have always appreciated Mandarin, the way it can be as nuanced or as straightforward as the speaker needs it." Another sip, followed by a clearing of his throat. "I have a couple minutes before I have to get to duties. Just wanted to get that awkward first conversation out of the way."

Harper gave her a considered look. There wasn't exactly a lot of trust on the table right then, and that lack likely ran in his direction as well. Sadly, trust was a tool or a commodity in the 'Verse, and the appearance of it had to be built. Anisa chose her for the crew, same as she chose him. He just wanted to get a feel for her. "It's a little weird being with a new crew for the first few days. I know. And please, while we're off duty? It's Liam."

Mei nodded as he sat down. She wasn't quite sure what he was getting on about her name. Frankly, she hadn't given it much thought. She often did not use her first name. She usually used her codename. In fact, that reminded her to talk to the Captain about that. Any information being passed around should be using her codename and not her real name. It wasn't likely she would run into any trouble, but it paid to be careful.

"All right Liam. I'll admit, it is weird. I have often worked for myself and myself alone. Is there anything specific you wish to ask me or are we just supposed to...talk?" Like he was intent on doing, Mei herself was trying to get a read on the man. After all, part of her job was investigation and she did not fully trust this crew. Not yet.

"Mmm hmm." responded Harper, thoughtfully chewing on a corner of a reheated, toasted protein sandwich. He swallowed hard and took a sip of coffee, continuing, "Just talk. Questions might arise, but as I said - a couple of minutes before I'm back on the clock. Let's pretend we're normal people for a moment and not ...whatever we are now. I'll start: You showed some dà fàngsì₁ coming back to the crew last night. I wouldn't have." Maybe he would have. There would have to be good reason for it, though. He assumed as much of this woman.

Mei was impressed with his use of the language. However, his words intrigued her. "I believe in honor. When I first ran across your lot, I was under a false impression. What that impression was, I cannot say. Not yet. But that is the reason I snuck aboard your ship. I came to find out I was wrong, albeit too late as your crew gave chase. So when I saw you there I felt bound to tell the truth. It is like the old way of Luò zài wǒ de jiàn shàng."₂

A good half of his first sandwich went down while Mei spoke, prompting Harper to remind himself to use better table manners. Bad habits were easy to pick up, apparently. He regarded the woman's answer briefly, using the fact that he was chewing as an excuse not to speak immediately. It was an interesting response, no doubt. A code of honor was an important thing out in the Black, but it didn't necessarily make one a good person. It could also make one predictable. Still, provided Harper could trust her words he might feel some sort of relief.

"You know Mei," he began, finally swallowing, "we are going further than light conversation over breakfast. Let me try something else: What is your favorite color?"

Mei ignored the man's lack of table manners, but was curious as to why he wished to change the subject. He had asked the question, after all. She had spoken honestly. "My favorite color is blue." Odd question to ask after the previous one, but perhaps all the man desired was that they keep it light. "What's yours?"

Harper smiled behind his cup of coffee. He did enjoy a sudden subject change, especially when it allowed for him to pick up tiny clues as to character. In truth, he did want to keep things light. He also wanted to ascertain whether or not this woman's presence had anything to do with his own. He still wasn't satisfied one way or another, but he was sure that he'd feel a lot better once they left Newhope far behind them.

Setting his cup down, he answered the potentially dangerous young lady, "I am partial to teal, actually." His voice was a little quieter. He even leaned in a bit. "Green, with just a hint of blue; preferably of darker hue. I had a very comfortable silk shirt, about a lifetime ago, that was the most pleasant color of dark teal. Sometimes..." a mischievous glint took to his eyes, "...sometimes I see it in certain topaz gems, or in the coloration of autumn birds. Not something I see inside of ships very often except in some of the wire and fiber-op casings, which I think is very sad. But yes... Teal." His smile still in place, he bit off a corner of his other sandwich and began to chew slowly, holding her gaze.

Mei didn't know what the man was getting at. What benefit did it serve to know her favorite color? She rarely wore color unless disguised, otherwise, she kept it to mainly black attire. "Teal is nice. Any other light conversation questions to ask? My favorite animal? Favorite food?" She didn't want to sound rude, but she expected more from a conversation with the mysterious man.

"What brought you on board? I mean, you know how I got the job, but I don't know how any of you all got to be on this ship."

The generally pleasant attitude of the pilot maintained deapite what appeared to be growing annoyance from Mei. He got through the majority of his remaining square of toasted bread and textured protein as she spoke, and gave the conversation just enough of a hiatus to sip from his cup before responding. "Favorite food? I am more partial to sweets than I really should be, but you do ask a valid question. The fact is, I am not sure exactly who the Captain got this ship from." Maybe that was what she was asking and maybe it wasn't. Nonetheless, Harper responded to the interpretation that gave the least amount of personal information away. "You would have to ask her about that. Though Prometheus is a fairly recent acquisition and a decent update from her predecessor." All technically accurate statements. He disliked being dishonest over casual conversation.

Harper tossed back the remainder of his coffee and gathered his dishes up. "I could go on and on about Prometheus's design specs and handling relative to Firefly Class vessels or even the comparable Alliance contracted ships, but my couple of minutes are up." He moved to store his plate and cup in the washer toward the Galley, "Thank you very much for letting me bend your ear over breakfast, Mei. We will have to do this again when it is less awkward. Plan?"

If anything, it gave her more questions than answers, but it also provided her with more to ask the Captain. Or, rather, more to figure out for herself if that was the case. "Yes, preferably when there is not anything going on, such as the potential death of a crewmate." She referred to the preacher, unaware of his situation. "Sounds like a plan then. Thank you Liam."

Translations

1 = Big Chutzpah
2 = Falling on my sword

[Sigil]

---

---

Foy Coiffeur

---

Location: Prometheus (Foy's Parlor -> Jahosafat's Quarters)
Skills: Perception

---

The coffee was indeed stellar, as was to be expected from his personal stock. There was just the tiniest difference of opinion between himself and Jahosafat about the nature of the perfect cup of coffee. Both agreed that it was best black. Diluting something as good and wholesome and pure as a cup of decent coffee with base impurities like sweetener and dairy products, let alone the concentrated, artificial flavorings that the plebeians ran toward all across the 'Verse. The nature of the disagreement lay in the points of origin of their preferred bean. Not to say that Foy did not respect and admire the selection of his childhood friend, just that his own favorite was another varietal.

It was a good time for coffee. There was an emergency on, obviously, of which he had done his part. Sadly, said part involved the application of manual labor in the form of moving the object of said emergency from Point A (place of collapse) to Point B (Medical). Lowering himself to candy-striper duty was necessary, though just a hair distasteful. After such selfless work, Foy felt wholeheartedly that he deserved a quiet moment in more or less pleasant surroundings with a demitasse. Or three.

Then of course, a thought struck him out of the clear and blue sky: He had just borne witness to the private selection of fine and gentlemanly hats that belonged to Dr. Moreau. At least the ones that he took along with him while traveling. It was nonetheless a breathtaking collection. He positively had to see more. Foy finished off his cup and sprung to his feet, his impressive madisons clapping upon the floor but the once, after which he started along the route that would take him back to Jahosafat's quarters.

There was the briefest of moments wherein he met the pilot, Harper, walking fore from the Lounge. They locked eyes for just a second, prompting Foy to give a greeting of sorts. "Pleasant morrow again, Lieutenant." He made a showing of giving a bow, then immediately returned to his structured pace.

He did not count on Harper actually responding to him. "I will be on the Bridge making preparations to leave soon, Mr. Coiffeur. You might want to get your doilies nailed down before takeoff." Harper did not slow his pace any more than Foy. Apparently, they both had things they would rather be doing than crossing swords right at that instant.

In Foys case, it was entering Jahosafat's room and perusing his fine headwear. It shouldn't take but a moment or so; he was very well acquainted with the wonder and niftiness of the various types of hats that a gentleman of standing might wear. It was curiosity that drew him. Naturally, he would have to confess his trespass to his friend and allow him the same liberty with his own collection of hats. Right now though, it was merely the bliss of looking over the private selection of a fellow connoisseur.

"My word, but this man has an overabundance of stetsons..." he would say, along with other glib witticisms such as, "Ah, this fine piece must be his second best 'around town' hat," and "Dear me, whatever is this? He must have been perilously intoxicated upon purchase." Though there was the occasional, "Now this is a labor of true artistic rendering, if ever I've seen one. A penultimate example of true haberdasher's craftsmanship; verily a Hatter must have squandered a portion of his very soul upon this exquisite and vivacious status-bearing nod to St. Clement, Patron Saint of Hatmakers! Indeed sir, good show!"

Needless to say, he spent more than a moment to view. It was a bit of a passion for the man, obviously, one that struck a particular chord with the man. He had given the possibility of expanding his family's business into a true, multi-planet haberdashery, complete with dapper and bespoke suits, hats, possibly cologne selections. It was the next logical step. And this man's hats reminded him of this. Perhaps his down time should be spent drawing up administrative plans to that exact effect. Yes... an excellent use of his virtual exile, indeed.

[BlueSky44]

---

---

Well, This is Awkward...

---

Location: Prometheus: Lower Deck: Single Top (7)
Skills:

---

---

Fitz gulped, having slightly hoped that he was going insane and Jackie wasn't looking for him in the hallway. He gripped onto the bed frame even tighter, more and more positive that he really could spend eternity underneath Daphne's bed. Sure, he wouldn't survive very long but he would be able to spend the rest of his (short) life there. There weren't even any cobwebs or dust bunnies that he had to compete with as well. It was really quite lovely, actually. "N-n-n-no i-if th-th-there's a medical em-em-emergency, w-w-w-we sh-shouldn't g-g-get in the w-w-way..."

Daphne let out a sigh, before she got down on the floor, and crawled underneath the bed after him. "There...Now we are both under the bed since you seem so intent on pretending you don't exist or something," Daphne said, giving him a smile. There was something about Fitz that Daphne really liked, and she wasn't even too sure what it was. Before she even fully realized what she was doing, she kissed him.

Jackie had waited outside, hearing the scuffle and whispering going on in the room. It the lot thought they were being quiet, they had to realize just how easy it was for others in the ship to hear them if they decided to fuck. And it was up to Jackie to set them straight. She gave them ample amount of time, in her opinion, to leap from bed and get dressed. After all, they were told of an emergency. "All righty lovebirds, it's time to face the day." Without much more warning, Jackie entered the living quarters.

And there she saw it. It hadn't been the vision of purity and innocence she had imagined Fitz's sexual experience was, instead, the two of them were in what she assumed was the most uncomfortable position one could be in, underneath the bed. What's more, they were kissing. Far be it from her to knock anyone else's sexual kinks, but still. "Umm....if I may be so bold. Perhaps next time you both wish to partake in such activities, you do so on top of the bed. I usually find it easier, but I've seen weirder scenarios."

Fitz's lips were tingling after Daphne kissed him and she literally took his breath away. He couldn't breathe. He just stared at her, his eyes wide. He hadn't kissed a girl before. And he certainly hadn't been anticipating adding that to his list of new experiences on his trip. His head was inching forwardly subtly before he jerked to a stop, hearing Jackie come into the room. And then in some sort of new height of anxiety and fear, he burst into tears and laughter at the same time. His entire body was shaking and he couldn't even form words, instead mumbling some incoherent gibberish.

When she heard Jackie's voice, she froze for a moment. Hearing her voice, just made her day get a whole lot worse. She would have been fine had Dorothy walked in, but no, it had been Jackie of all people, the most annoying person in the whole world. Daphne let out a sigh, before she crawled out from underneath the bed, standing up and staring right at Jackie. "You do realize that usually what happens is that you either knock on the door, or never ever walk into the room."

Jackie had been looking forward to this. She knew the Ditz didn't like her and now she seemed to think of standing up to her. Now, of all times. "Usually people are supposed to be less wound up after sex. Or did you two just kiss under the bed?" Jackie tilted her head sideways, mainly to check on Fitz who seemed to be having an episode. "And it's not like you guys were being subtle or quiet about it either. I'd be surprised if half the ship hasn't already figured it out. Now, are we going to stand here taking pot shots at one another, one where I would obviously win, or are we going to help your boyfriend out? He seems to be having a stroke or something."

Fitz managed to take shuddering breaths, his face the most intense shade of red anyone had ever seen. He was still hiding under the bed, his knuckles white as he gripped the frame for dear life. He tried to protest to Jackie that he hadn't been having sex with Daphne, that he had just spent the night in her room and gotten spooked and decided to live out the rest of his days underneath her bed frame. But he also couldn't deny that he was a bit tensed up just from Daphne kissing him. His lips kept on tingling and if he had been alone, he would have touched his fingers to them to see if they somehow had some sort of electric charge now. "W-w-w-we....d-d-d-d-didn't....d-d-d-d-do the sex..."

"Well, at least we know he's not broken since he's still able to talk," Daphne said, shaking her head slightly at the way Fitz's choice of words. Who talked like that anyway? At least he was still talking and hadn't died underneath her bed or something, since that would cause other problems for her. She glanced down at Fitz, before looking at Jackie, "I did try to get him to come out from under the bed, since he flipped out when I was talking to Dorothy earlier and decided to hide there."

Fitz's choice words and lack of sex aside, it was best they get him out of there. Jackie walked over and got on her knees and looked under the bed. "Hey there, big guy? You doing ok? Why not come out from there?" She would allow him some room to breathe, uncertain if he was truly ok or not. Like the Ditz said, he was talking which was a good sign. "Well, worse comes to worse, perhaps we can call the Captain in. I'm sure she'd love to launch someone out of the airlock, especially given recent events." She did so as more of an incentive to get Fitz out, rather than what she actually thought.

He began to feel incredibly woozy and dizzy at that, his eyes fluttering closed as his entire body began to rebel against him. He had already been having a panic attack, but Jackie's mention of Anisa throwing someone out of an airlock only made it worse. He was sweating profusely and his entire skin felt clammy. He didn't even know if he was holding onto the bed anymore and his breathing was, in a word, terrible. If this kept up for just a few minutes longer, he'd likely pass out fully.

"I'm pretty sure you just made it worse, come on... Help me yank him out from under the bed, he's going to need some medical help or something. Maybe some medicine for his nerves," Daphne said as she walked over to the bed and grabbed one of Fitz's legs, trying to yank him out. At this rate, she feared he might have a heart attack or actually die underneath her bed.

"I was supposed to make it better?" Jackie followed suit, grabbing Fitz's arm and pulled. She hoped he could pull out of this. Both doctors had their hands full at the moment. However, she had a feeling this was not her story to tell. Especially given the fact the Ditz was fired. She'd find out soon enough from her sister, no doubt.

Fitz was too weak to fight and he watched as his fingers slipped, letting go of the bed frame. He didn't want medical help, especially if there was some sort of medical emergency. As he saw the lights in Daphne's room come into view, everything looked incredibly blurred. He was in the midst of a full on panic attack and he felt incredibly sluggish, as if his body had decided to go on holiday and refuse to listen to him anymore. "J-J-J-Jackie...I l-like Daphne...." Fitz muttered as his eyes closed.

Daphne let out a sigh of relief that Fitz seemed alright, but they still needed to get him some help. The guy was freaking out way too much, over what seemed like nothing. She managed not to blush when she heard what Fitz said to Jackie about her, as she just looked at him. He really needed to learn to calm down and not panic as much, otherwise, he might get tossed out an airlock by Anisa, and that was not something she wanted to see happen. She wasn't too sure what to do in order to calm Fitz down.

Jackie heard the words come out of the loveable idiot's mouth. "No! Really?" she got out sarcastically before he closed his eyes. "I dunno about you, but I don't look forward to lugging him to the medical bay. Perhaps we can call for one of the doctors to come here after they deal with Jesus Freak." Fitz's breathing seemed to speed up before he passed out, his head hitting the floor with a thump. His breathing was calming down and so was his heart rate, but it seemed that was mostly because his brain had finally decided to shut down.

"Really? Atticus was the one having problems? I didn't know that... Didn't even think to go check to see who was having problems, figured I'd just get in the way if I asked questions or went to go check... So what exactly are we supposed to do with Fitz?" Daphne asked, looking at Jackie.

Jackie said too much, so she let it lie there. "Let's at least get him back on to the bed so he can be comfortable. After, we can go see how the doctors are dealing. At least get him some fluids or medecine. Boy's been through a lot." She turned to face her now. "He said he liked you. I'll give him that. However, what I said at the bar was true. If you fuck with him or hurt him, I will come after you. The Captain won't be able to stop me. Now, let's help our boy." She began to help lift Fitz on to the bed.

"Alright, I get it..." Daphne muttered, before she went over to help lift Fitz onto the bed. She probably should find out from her sister what was going on with Atticus before she asked for help figuring out what to do about Fitz. Seems like she and Jackie had one thing in common, and that was caring about Fitz, but Daphne was pretty sure that might be the only thing they have in common.

[Lady Absinthia]

---

---

Jahosafat & Anisa

---

Location: Prometheus: Lower Deck: Medical (6), Lower Deck: Leaning against an escape pod (5) -> Upper Deck: Bridge (1)
Skills: Medical

---

Jahosafat nodded towards Dorothy. He could understand how it felt, he had lost those he had worked with before. He had lost those he was close to as well, not that he had any idea if Dorothy and Atticus had been close. Losing someone was never easy and he had always found solace in working on a task. Looking at the body, it was no longer Atticus, it was an empty shell. What made the man the man while he was alive left when his brain stopped functioning and his heart stopped beating. There was nothing more they could do for him. All they could do now is hopefully find a cause of death, that way those that had known him could have some closure.

It was time to get to work. Walking over to the med bay doors, he closed them and locked them. He didn't want anyone just wandering into the room. The sight of the soon to be cracked open body cavity could be very disturbing to those who were not prepared for it. Most of the crew he felt could handle it but there were at least two on board he felt might have a more troubling time from what he had witnessed just from general persona the night before. Yet before they began, Jahosafat reached into the front vest pocket of his attire and pulled out a silk handkerchief and placed it on the table in front of Dorothy, just in case she needed it.

Anisa took a long drag from her cigarette and huffed. Another person she had known for sometime was dead. This was not good. If it was foul play she wouldn't be taking a job, she would be hunting a killer. No one fucked with her crew. Fucking hell... Fuck, that reminded her. She needed to inform Atticus' emergency contact he was dead. She hadn't needed to with Camilla or Jackson - Camillas contact was dead, Jacksons had been Anisa herself. Atticus however had someone off ship. A person they had dealt with a few times. Atticus was the contact and only Anisa and Jackson had ever dealt with the Blonde Bitch, the rest of the crew was spared the introduction.

Placing the cigarette between her lips she started walking. To the stairs, up them, and then towards the bridge. Stepping onto the bridge she spotted Harper. "Power up communications, I need to send a message to one Bridgette Winters to inform her of Atticus death," she said in a flat cold tone. There was the slightest of cracks when she got to the word death but she bit it off and took another drag from her cigarette.

[Morose]

---

---

Dorothy Pender

---

---

Location: Prometheus: Lower Floor: Medical
Skills: Perception, Medicine, Life Sciences, Discipline

---

"Thank you," Dorothy said curtly, as Jahosafat set down the handkerchief for her. She dabbed at her eyes slightly, before she took a piece of paper and began to make notes of all of the visible abrasions on Atticus' body. She wasn't sure if she'd find any sort of evidence of foul play in such a way or any cause as to what happened to him, but it was the standard procedure. Once she finished recording everything she noticed, every scar, tattoo, wound, and bruise, Dorothy gave a curt nod to Jahosafat. She then set the paper aside in a safe place, not wanting it to get sullied with blood and guts.

She had been mentally preparing herself for the Y-incision the entire time. Her hands shook slightly and she looked at Jahosafat, swallowing thickly. "Would you mind making the incision, doctor?" she asked simply. She wanted to focus on this and the work, but she didn't think her hands would be steady enough to make a clean cut. If the cut was messy, it would make it only that much harder to sew the body up for burial. And as irritating and charming as Atticus was, Dorothy wanted him to have a decent burial - a proper funeral. However, she knew that funerals were more for the living than they were for the dead. Atticus was gone, plain and simple. There wasn't anything to be done about that.

[Sigil]

---

---

Foy Coiffeur

---

Location: Prometheus (Jahosafat's Quarters)
Skills: Perception

---

Whilst perusing the many hats of the highly regarded Mr. Jahosafat Moreau, Foy had to admit a touch of jealousy. He did have a lovely and varied collection. The dapper purveyor of all things barber-y did not wish to be viewed as some sort of Peeping Thomas, skulking about simply to rummage through another man's hats, and so left the door to his friend's quarters open. A number of minutes had passed, far longer than what was required to ordinarily resuscitate someone going through a temporary loss of circulatory control. Or not. For all Foy knew, it was over and done with, and Josie was having sherry with the man and Dorothy someplace quiet on the ship. Or conversely, for all Foy knew, the process by which one was brought back from cardiac issues took hours. The man was in the business of removing life, not preserving it.

Foy settled back upon the bunk nearby. His posture remained as straight and proper as always; he just didn't feel like being on his feet. "Ludicrosity." he spoke, albeit in quiet voice. "Utter and contemptible ludicrosity, in its total, unabridged form!" A sterner voice was used this time. This situation was strange to him. Foreign of concept, possibly. He didn't care when people were gunned down in front of him a week or two ago; people from both his ship and the opposition's. He even went as far as to make pithy remarks and snarky comebacks for those who were involved, all the while holding the equivalent of an automatic, man portable assault cannon (It was his very favorite gun). Foy was fully ready to engage the survivors in mortal combat, short range small arms leading the way. And he likely would have come out on top of that exchange, save for one person who might have out-drawn him.

He took off his own bowler hat and inspected it, for no other reason than to have his hands do something. Pursuant to his earlier thought, Foy enunciated, "It would have been necessary to cause a distraction, indeed, and eliminated their Captain on the primary..." followed by a meaningful, "The lady has the look of an experienced gunfighter. Indubitably, fortune smiles protagonistically upon those who shoot first. Oh, how a crate of mentally disturbed howler monkeys, properly set ablaze and released at precisely the appropriate time would have been an investment most worthwhile. Hmmm..." But it was funny how things worked out, seeing as how circumstances placed him under under her employ. He was not bitter about how it all came together in the end, not in the least. As he stared into the worked material and careful stitching of his hat, he simply mused at what a myriad of possibilities life had to offer.

---

---

William Harper

---

Location: Prometheus (Bridge)
Skills: Computers

---

Baxk on the Bridge, Harper was going through the motions of a very standard system restart. With the exception of the electrical system amd a couple other minor items related to crew comfort, everything needed to be initialized. First, of course, was the engine. It thrummed to life, immediately beginning to charge the power cells elsewhere in the vessel, and immediately went to a more passive cycle. They needed to be ready for takeoff, not hit the Black immediately.

A shipwide system check came back great, all systems registering either at full power, within safe protocols, or both. He was almost ready to wrap things up and possibly catch an hour or so of shuteye before the scheduled departure time (unless the Captain had other duties in mind) when Anisa entered the Bridge. She did not look overly happy. And by that, he meant in the least.

The order given to Harper informed him that the Shepherd was dead. No going back now, no saving him. As her commanding voice faltered, even just a fraction as the word "death" came out, Harper's head involuntarily flicked to Anisa's direction. He disguised the motion, but probably not very convincingly, as a nod to confirm her order. "Aye aye, Captain." he responded quietly, and wondered exactly how he was going to find someone in all of the 'Verse with just a name. He had to assume this person wasn't registered with the Alliance core database nor census. Hmm...

Communications were online and fully up to date, allowing for a respectable broadcast range. He pulled up the ship's computer on a nearby screen and entered what information he had. There were a lot of people named Winters in the 'Verse. But from what he could tell, the only Bridgette Winters was a toddler living somewhere in or near Ariel. That... Absolutely couldn't be it.

A couple of minutes later found Harper stumbling across an amazing piece of luck. A chance misspelling (an extra vowel or another such random mistake) prompted the computer's anticipatory spell correction to kick in, offering suggestions and alternate versions of the name. Not only that, but public profiles and last registered locales. And as strange as it seemed to look at the most likely candidate out of the bunch, it had to be mentioned.

He hastily typed up a standard notification of death, a thing he had do do a few times back when he was an officer with the Alliance, tacked on the ship's communication info, and addressed Anisa. "Captain, um, I have a Bridgette Vinters pulled up. Last registered address was with a training settlement on Borr in the Himinbjorg system, before that Aesir. If this is your girl, all I have to do is hit send."

[FantasyChic]

---

---

Mei Qiáo

---

Location: Galley
Skills: N/A

---

Having a moment (albeit probably brief) to sit in the galley before she was called into action for whatever job they had lined up (or whatever was going on with the Preacher), she had time to think about her conversation with Harper. She managed to get some type of read on him and what she had left her feeling empty. Like she had a conversation with a person who wasn't there. Not all the way, at least. It could be her own feelings on the subject, but she was often able to grasp important details about people she talked to. She felt confident in her readings on the Captain, on Jackie, on Fitz, and on Dr. Jahosafat, but not Harper. And that worried her.

If allowed (and maybe even if not allowed) she would have to do some more digging. She considered this part of her job, after all. Being the spymaster on the ship, that meant ensuring crew safety from anyone, including the members on the very ship she served on. For all she knew, Preacher had been poisoned and someone on the ship was an attempted murderer. She would finish her coffee and go find the Captain. For now, she would let her be to deal with recent commotions.

---

---

Jacqueline Croix

---

Location: Dorothy's Room -> Hallway Outside Bedrooms
Skills: N/A

---

Jackie, meanwhile, was not having the best of times. Fitz was on the floor, unconscious from his own undoing and she and the Ditz were standing there, wondering what to do. "The only issue I see is that they are probably still working on Jesus Freak up there. I imagine a ship of this size doesn't often have a waiting room full of people that need to be seen by the Docs. I suggest we bring him up there and they can get to him when able, because fuck me if I know what to do with him now."

Truth be told, she would probably leave Fitz to deal with it alone. After all, the man had put himself in this predicament following his dick rather than his brain. Men were simple like that, really. Provided you had the right tools, you often got men to do the most ridiculous of things if you offered what they wanted. Fitz, it seemed, was no different and that made her kind of appreciate him more. Up until this point, she was almost certain he was a robot.