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Revenge IC / Re: Episode Three: Charitable ...
Last post by Izak Archer - September 17, 2020, 04:27:26 pm
The 'shift change' on the bridge proceeded as planned. If you could call it that. Melody trusted technology far too much in his opinion, but then again, what would one expect from a fighter jockey? They did not make a career out of keeping ships running. Well, at least of this size or larger. Izak got his briefing from Breene, then went back down to the kitchen, found some frozen vegetables, sausage, a couple of eggs and got to work whipping up what a marine told him was called a 'scramble'.

It was essentially an omelet without the extra effort of folding the eggs over.

Grabbing a serving he grabbed a seat in across from Missy and ate as the expect journey and shenanigans unfolded. He made note to ask her about her choices in literature later. Some intelligent conversation would be rather pleasant from time to time.

This was...something. He had heard the doctor's name before when he was in the service. Izak was sure he saw him give a lecture once. But then again, one mad scientist was just another lab coat on legs to him. People who meddled with, maimed, and corrupted others in the name of progress if left unattended. Izak stood behind the crew as the 'formal' introduction was made, and shook his head as Holger ran off. The man was as tribal as you could get. Fighting the urge to sigh, he maintained his focus as things progressed, shifting slightly but not letting go of his shotgun sling.

Melody then asked him to check out the lodge nearby. Politely. That was new. She even used the word 'please' when addressing Missy. That was so new his jaw almost dropped open. Taking his weapon off his shoulder he simply said, "On, it."

Once he was sure Melody could not see his face, he started chuckling. Now was not the time to mess with her for acting like an actual Captain however, there was a job to be done. One that just kept getting weirder.
Odette IC / Re: S1: Ep1 - Birds of a Feath...
Last post by Akhsar King - September 17, 2020, 04:20:56 pm
Quote from: Jedikiah Rembo on August 18, 2020, 11:50:45 am"Does anyone require immediate medical attention?"

King ignored Jeds question. His foot would definitely require medical attention, but not the kind they could do on the move out in the open. Plus, King was pretty sure that he wouldn't be able to get his boot back on if he took it off now, what with the swelling that was undoubtedly starting. The best thing he could do was cinch his laces up real tight and pray he didn't need to kick anyone else today.

While Jed attended to the others, King hobbled around and retrieved the pieces of his sidearm. He reassembled the weapon and holstered it, with a round in the chamber. If at all possible he would avoid using it before he had a chance to clean it, but at least he would have one shot if it came to that.

King kept his eyes in motion as they walked, constantly looking for new threats. Thankfully he was able to hide the severity of his limp, but the ache in his foot was getting worse. As they moved farther from the scene of the fight he could see Charity relax, the tension leaving her shoulders and face. She absent mindedly brushed the front of her gown, dislodging most of the dust from it. "Do I look alright?" She asked a whisper, her cheeks reddening slightly. "You look every part the fearless leader." He said, matching her hushed tone. "Also you missed a spot." He gave her a wry grin, obviously teasing.

The house that Francis let them too was like many King had seen growing up. It positively screamed Money. King felt the weight of the "ration pack" tucked against his side under his coat. He'd wanted to surreptitiously open it and take a look inside, but hadn't risked it with Francis so close, not to mention the self proclaimed "former lawman" escorting them.

Charity looked up at him with furrowed brows. He shrugged in reply. She spent a few moments dusting everyone off and making them as presentable as she could given the circumstances. She brushed off Kings torso, and gave him an apologetic look for his foot. He gave her an appreciative nod before his eyes resumed scanning the surrounding area for threats. "All right," Charity mummer to herself as she pushed the call button.

"Yeah. Give it 'bout fifty-fifty odds somebody's gonna try and pull our trousers up over our heads again."

King barely made out Coops hushed comment to Francis, and grinned. He was thankful someone else shared his own apprehension. Coop had proved to be quite good in the fight earlier, and apparently had good instinct as well. A good man to have around.
Character Application / Rhiannon "Junior" Pool [WIP]
Last post by Lomari - September 16, 2020, 09:49:55 am
Rhiannon "Junior" Pool

Age:  17 and a half.

Gender:  Female

Primary Occupation:  Salvage and Reclamation 'Apprentice'.

Appearance:  Still a bit short, waiting on that promised growth spurt, Rhiannon stands at an average 5'4" with a wild mass of red curls that she's learned to beat down into submission over time. Freckles run wild over her cheeks and nose, both from her genetics and her time working with her parents under the sun. She's got an athletic build, from honest labor, and bright blue eyes like her father's.

Faceclaim:  Emily Browning

Initial Personality:  Like her father, Rhiannon can come across as brash and quick tempered, and has no problem saying what she means when she means it. She's a go-getter, with fire under her belt and a can do attitude no matter the situation. There's a wildness to her that seems like it's held at bay with twine and tape.

Underlying Personality:  Beneath all that, Rhiannon Pool is actually pretty calculating and deliberate. She learned patience and steadfastness through her mother and can (when necessary) be the diplomat between her father and a third party. She might not be a tomboy but she does struggle with being overtly 'girly' or 'feminine', although she is never against trying.

Known History:  Born: 2502. Beylix.
Parents: Reinhardt Pool and Charlotte Maurier
Siblings: Twin brother Roquefort Pool
Academic records:
K-12 Schooling completed from Higgins Academy, a publicly funded school.
Occupational Record:
2518-19 Apprenticeship at C&R Salvage and Reclamation
Military Record:
Criminal Record:
2517. Rhiannon and Roquefort Pool held for parental pickup post detainment for Vandalism. No charges filed.

Other History:  Rhiannon and Roquefort were born two minutes apart, during an emergency landing on Beylix. That hadn't been the intended location for the birth of Pool and Chuck's children, but they'd been eager to see the 'Verse and nothing could stop them. What followed was a simple and honest life, or at least as simple and honest as they'd ever known. They were raised by their no-nonsense parents, in a home that was akin to a forest of ship parts for them to play in.

While Rocky took after their mother in his temperament and interests, Rhiannon was very clearly a daddy's girl. She followed her father around like a duckling, picking up his nuances and personality traits and finding a joy in his craft. Her best memories are of getting into less than legal/safe hi-jinks with her brother and father, despite their mother giving him what for one they'd returned. No matter how many times she scolded them, Rhiannon was already ready for another adventure with her dad. Some things were worth the trouble.

Despite it not being entirely 'allowed' for her to work at such a young age, Rhiannon helped her parents out at their Salvage and Reclamation yard as much as she was allowed. She wasn't necessarily a tomboy, but she was no fancy lady either and enjoyed nothing more than being elbows deep in a salvaged part or dewy with the sweat of probably honest labor.

She learned a lot from her father (other than their family business), despite her mother's protestations on the matter. He was pretty clear on not wanting her to turn out like he had, but that didn't seem like such a bad thing to her. He could take care of himself, and his family, and no one messed with him without being immediately punished for doing so. He wad respected in their community (in her eyes). After getting into several tussels on her own (and losing quite a few of them), her father finally gave in and taught her how to fight, not because he wanted her doing it, but because he didn't want her doing it poorly and suffering the consequences. It was with this same kind of mentality that he then taught her how to use a gun, clean it, and take it apart. Better to do it under his watchful eye than to do it wrong on her own and get herself hurt. She quite agreed with that logic, no matter how often her mother yelled at them for it.

Skills and Strengths:  Light/Self-guided engineering
Shuttle piloting (short distance, small vessel)
Terrain vehicles(short distance, small vessel)
Reclamation machinery (short distance, small vessel)
Charisma, to combat and/or aid with her father's typical crassness.
Creative and quick thinking.
Can handle herself in a scrap.
Is able to use, clean, and disassemble most rudimentary guns.
Can curse with the best of them.

Weaknesses:  She did inherit a bit of her father's temper and her mother's stern demeanor.
Has a penchant for getting into trouble.

Character Application / Reinhardt Pool
Last post by noseatbelts - September 15, 2020, 06:25:04 pm


Age:  Wrong side of 60
Gender:  Male

Primary Occupation:  Salvage and Reclamation Agent
Secondary Occupation (optional):  Aging Gun Thug
Equipment:  Pool has a duffel bag. And in that duffel bag is a collection. And in that collection is a lot of guns. Nothing fancy. Most of them are old and beat-up. But there are a lot of them. And every one of them will put a hole in a man. He doesn't travel much these days, but when he does he travels light.

Appearance:  While not exactly tall, Pool would definitely be described as big. He's broad shouldered and long armed, with a prominent brow and a jaw that could chew a carburetor. His hair and beard are short and gray, his eyes small and blue and more often than not covered in reading glasses these days.  The veteran of many fights, scuffles, brawls and battles; Pool's body is criss crossed with scars. He also has several poorly aged tattoos, his favorite being a redhead knockout on his right forearm with the name "Charlotte" scrawled underneath.
Faceclaim:  Ron Perlman

Initial Personality:  Big, bad, tough and mean, Pool has lived a long hard life surviving the Black and all it's terrors by becoming one himself. He's wholly in it for himself and for the next payday; so the good thing is, his loyalty can be bought and he ain't that expensive. Bad side of that is that he doesn't feel bad switching sides if it looks like the tide is going to turn. But he's flexible. Whatever looks to be best for him in the short term. Long term mostly escapes him, he's not exactly an idea guy. But if you point, he'll go down swinging and you'll be damned sure he gets back up. At least, that's what his reputation is.
Underlying Personality:  In truth Pool is not much of any of those things anymore. Sure, he's still big. He's still mean. He's still ugly. But he's settled down. He has priorities and responsibilities and a family. Has he gone soft? Some might say that, but now he has things to fight for other than himself, and that tends to make a man stronger than you might give him credit for.

Known History:  Born: 2456. Verbena.
Parents: Robelard Pool and Ondine Pool-Liebowitz
Siblings: None known.
Academic records: Primary School education
Occupational Record:
2471-2472 Verbena Consolidated Steel, cargo loader and driver
2500 Registered as Misc Crew on the Dublin II, cargo ship ca. 2500
2502 C&R Salvage and Reclamation, owner/operator
Military Record: None
Criminal Record:
2473. Served six months for assault at Beaumonde Municipal Corrections
2485. Wanted in connection to the assault on the IAV Laramie by the pirate ship Ebony and Ivory.
2486. Warrant issued under the name "Pool" on Three Hills, Dead or Alive for Murder and Horse Russtling. Outstanding.
2487-78. Multiple warrants issued under the name "Pool" on Beylix, Athens, Ezra, Jiangyin and several moons; various crimes. All outstanding.
2494. Writ of Expulsion from Higgin's Moon; signed by Magistrate Higgins himself.
2496-2499. Served 3/10 years at Alliance Penal Station"Gilead" for assault, grand theft, armed robbery, attempted murder, disturbing the peace, and contempt. Details of release are closed.

Other History:  Robelard Pool was a drinker and hard case. That didn't stop him from being a charming man. Charming enough to get one Miss Ondine Liebowitz to fall for him and eventually marry him. Well, the marrying part came after they found out she was having his child. Mr. Liebowitz, Ondine's father, made sure that Rob made an honest woman out of her. Maybe that was why Rob turned more to the drink, more to cards, more to whatever skirt would give him the time of day. He never said so, only because he didn't say much to the kid, but Reinhardt always thought his father blamed him for his state in the world. Life on the planet of Verbena was tough. Tougher than it should have been by some accounts. There wasn't much in the way of work that didn't involve a lifetime of back pain and calloused hands. And most folks in that position feel they're destined for something better.

Robelard Pool blamed his family for keeping him on Verbana.
Ondine Pool-Liebowitz blamed her father for making her marry a louse of a man.
Reinhardt Pool blamed no one for his lot in life, but knew for damned sure he wasn't going to stick around any longer than he had to.

So, at the age of 15, after getting into a fist fight with his father long after his mother had run off; Reinhardt Pool took off on the first freighter that would have him. From then on, it was the spacer's life for him. He learned quick to be mean to match his growing size. Ship captains quickly saw that he would be a useful sort, looking the way he did and it gave him ample opportunity to get work and experience. He hopped from ship to ship, wherever the next payday came from.

His longest stint was on a ship called The Ebony and Ivory. This was Pool's first true run-in with a bloodthirsty bunch of miscreants and hooligans. A pirate ship in everything but name, this is where Pool found his true calling as a fighter. Looting and pillaging (and worse) The Eb and Ive and her Dread Captain Meloy gained a reputation in the Black as a ship to avoid. It also gained a list of warrants and a target across their hull; a hull that was rumored to be full of the treasures of its various conquests. They ran afoul of an Alliance Cruiser by the name... Something with an "L." Pool can never quite recall. It came to close quarter fighting and, once it looked like things were going south for the pirates, Pool fought and bit and killed his way to an escape pod. The ship was rumored destroyed along with its Captain and crew, Pool being the only survivor.

In and out of a series of jobs since then, Pool tended to try and steer away from trouble but it always seemed to find him. Not that he tried all that hard, mind you. He is Reinhardt Pool, after all and with a mouth like that one is bound to find himself in his share of troubles. Served three years of a ten year sentence at Gilead Penal Colony after a thrilling heist that went sideways at the end. He made friends and enemies during this time, namely aboard a ship called Dublin II. This is where he met Charlotte Maurier, whom he affectionately named "Chuck" and has never called her anything else. Despite the odds, they eventually left "the life" together and settled down.

One marriage and two kids later, Pool is happy with his new, domesticated life. They've been the owners of C&R Salvage and Reclamation for close to 20 years now, mostly dealing in the reclamation of stolen or defaulted vehicles, transporting them, fixing them up, and reselling them. Sure, it's a little boring and he hasn't killed a man for pay in over ten years, unless you count a guy who gets shot because he doesn't like you taking his slick little ship he didn't pay taxes on so he shoots first and, well, what are you going to do? And he loves his wife, though he hasn't been able to figure out why she puts up with him. And his kids are a pain in the ass but he couldn't picture his life without them. So maybe it's not so bad.

Skills and Strengths:  Pool's a strong guy. Born that way, he's worked himself his entire life to be able to use that strength to his advantage in most situations; mostly in the combative arts. He's not formally trained to put the hurt on, but he's good at it nonetheless. Likewise with weapons; chances are if it fires a bullet or has a blade he's used it to kill a man. Floating the 'Verse for 40+ years gives a man a certain amount of perspective. Pool's seen it all and can handle himself in most situations. He can make himself useful in the engine room, the cockpit, the cargo bay and he can bandage a wound (he's cauterized a few, too). He's not great at any of those things, but he's done it all in one way or another; for better or worse.
Weaknesses:  Pool is exuberant, bold, crass, rude and all in all a total jerk. And the thing is that he knows it and doesn't care. He likes who he is and the effect he has on people. He doesn't have a lot in the way of book learning, but he's never really needed that either. He's good at what he does and has never felt the need to expand his horizons in any way that doesn't involve his getting paid at the end of the day. Pool has been out in the 'Verse for a long, long time, now. While that's given him a wealth of experience and know-how, it's also left him scarred and broken in a lot of ways, the least of which being a bad knee and arthritis in his meat hooks. His memory isn't what it used to be and his aim is fading from misuse. To top it off, Pool ain't much to look at. He knows it. Everyone knows it. Let's move on.

Odette IC / Re: S1: Ep1 - Birds of a Feath...
Last post by Cooper Brown - September 11, 2020, 06:20:19 pm
Cooper too was curious about the lawman who'd followed them openly after the kerfuffle. But he let the old martial artist do the questioning. He'd come off more benevolent than he would asking those questions. Partly because it'd be his instinct to ask with his hammer if he didn't sound truthful. Interrogation wasn't his specialty anyway. Neither was combat technically. It was never supposed to be his primary job, even in the army. But things kept turning out in such a way that Coop kept having to put hurt on other men. Well, he could have taken that job with the cruise company. But everything about that gig seemed objectionable to him except he couldn't articulate why.

So here he was. Getting the blood spatter wiped off his face by his aristocratic smuggler of a captain. As wildly different as they were he respected her courteous nature and the manners didn't feel like they were all show. He winced slightly as she cleaned him up but couldn't help but make an embarrassed smile when she was done.

"Cheers, Cap."

Coop looked around the group to find Francis and meandered over to him as they waited for someone to answer the door. He was about as relaxed as he normally seemed but his eyes did betray him. He was looking at every nearby building, the street, just looking for any sign of a trap or something being off.

Mr Brown cleared his throat and confided to his workplace proximity associate in a slightly hushed tone:

"Yeah. Give it 'bout fifty-fifty odds somebody's gonna try and pull our trousers up over our heads again."
The Darling IC / Re: S1:Ep5 - Life from Red Cla...
Last post by Viktor Söderberg - September 11, 2020, 12:20:34 pm
Arlo looked into Mr. Potter's case as requested by the Captain while Viktor sat the walking corpse back upright in his seat and arranged him as comfortable as he could.

Arlo pulled out a bundle of papers and then the case was empty. He took his time reading over the documents. With no explanation, he handed them over to the preacher and said. "I believe I understand the urgency better now. Somebody in town must need what he's carrying, badly. Keeping him cold, shouldn't be a problem at any rate [...] can you help me pack snow into his clothes.

The soldier in Viktor thought it would be easier and faster to just put the man in a pile of snow outside. It would cause less of a mess in the mule and would keep him supine and still which would surely be good for his condition. But that's as far as Viktor would be able to treat him and he needed treatment sooner rather than later.

He looked at the first page of the contract he was handed. "Professional Organ Transplant Transporter" he said out loud. His voice fell like the snow down the mountain. "Oh. Yes." He'd never seen one come into town, but he'd heard tale of a local girl from his town who had - legend said - been a POTT to get some money for her family after her father, the sole earner, had died in a mine collapse. They eventually came to the church to inter her empty coffin. And request spare food supplies. She, nor the promised money for her deadly burden, had never returned. It was supposed to be an old wives tale to warn children against trusting strangers or some such. The preacher had never considered there to be any truth in it. A POTT sounded ridiculous, definitely couldn't be a real thing. Yet, here he was staring at the contract and the nearly dead man.

He flipped through the remaining pages, speaking aloud in broken sentences as he went along. "Contract for organ transport. Ownership remains with the Company until Transplant. In cases of theft, disappearance or other non-arrival situations. Forcible repossession. Client responsibilities. Delivery and payment. In cases of organ rejection or early expiration..."

The preacher's body cooled, as much from what he was reading as from the snow being packed into the mule. "Well, Barn. He ain't gunna make it. That's pretty sure. This is a contract for him to transport an organ or organs to someone - don't say who - at Primary Claim. Better than a cooler, I suppose. There's a bit here at the end about organ rejection which looks to be the stage he's in right now. Says to keep him cold. Maybe if we keep him cool and keep his fever down he can survive the transplant. Let's not hold our breaths, though."
Revenge IC / Re: Episode Three: Charitable ...
Last post by Melody - September 11, 2020, 08:29:09 am

The glow of the fire was visible through the view port, which had her concerned. If what they were doing required any form of stealth or discretion, that had gone right out the window. And that wasn't even touching on the subject of all the other little dots of light they passed on their way to their destination... She didn't like this. Or that, she added to herself, shooting a glare in Breene's direction as he sullied the co-pilot's controls with his grubby hands. Now, she had no proof that they were grubby, it was just a gut feeling. Her disgusted sneer deepened. He hadn't done himself any favors in earning her trust by immediately and without hesitation plopping himself down in her seat, and she'd be filing that away for later. Mel tended to hold grudges.


Melody stood on the ramp with her arms crossed over her chest and a deepening frown pulling at her lips. She stared at the wild man running up to them from his bonfire, baby blues taking in the face paint, the pupils, the mess. A small, 'huh', registered from the woman. It made sense that this creature was friends with Breene...

"You're early Breene! I needed to finish the ritual before we run the algorithm!"

"...You guys must be the Revenge! Please tell me you were able to get the chips."

Melody shot Breene a look. "We were able to retrieve...some of said chips. What will you be doing with them?" she asked. She had to ask. Despite what Breene had implied, this situation wasn't good for the doubtful. Her arms crossed over her chest and she stared at the painted man and his pajama partner. Her body was tense, coiled, ready to lash out should it become necessary. She's taken the chips away from the mutineer on their ship and given them, instead, to Jo. Either to look over if he felt so inclined, or just to keep them safe. She didn't want their guest somehow leaving them behind with their payload. Now, she'd insisted he'd come along not only to hold onto the chips, but to be her interpreter, should the brainy contacts get technical with her.


She rocked forward onto the balls of her feet as Holger rushed off, some part of her wanting nothing more than to follow and not deal with the mess Isa had left her. But, a larger part of her pulled her back, flattening her feet and grounding her to the Revenge's ramp as though she were a magnet held against its metal. "Missy, please..." she began, looking over at the blonde with what could have been interpreted as a desperate, helpless plea. A hand pulled free of her crossed arms and she gestured toward where the red giant was stripping. The man was still recovering from a concussion, and of all of her crew, he was the one she cared the most about. She didn't want his brain melting out of his ears. If that was a thing that could happen.

The Captain turned her head to eye Izak, then gestured toward the bonfire and the home beyond it, "Would you be so kind as to go secure that?" she asked him, attempting politeness despite the irritated growl at the base of her throat. She did not like this situation one bit, but out of the rest of the crew, this ex-Alliance soldier was one of the better suited to make sure no one was lying in wait for them inside the house/lodge.
The Darling IC / Re: S1:Ep5 - Life from Red Cla...
Last post by Thackery Arlington III - September 11, 2020, 07:17:31 am
The moment Victor relieved Arlo of his ailing burden, the pale Core-worlder leaned over the side of the mule and, with as much dignity as he could muster, thoroughly lost his lunch.

By the time he came up for air and located a handkerchief to tidy himself up with - feeling rather embarrassed, but much the better for it - the preacher had completed his examination. Outlook Not Good. The man made a vague, swaying motion towards the mysterious briefcase, but was clearly in no condition to even reach out for it, much less lift or open it.

"Somebody dig in that red bag o' his," the captain called, and Arlo eagerly bent to retrieve it. He had the most right of anyone there, didn't he? Having served as Potter's unwilling minder while the others dealt with the snow situation?

Opening the case, he was a bit disappointed to see it contained only papers, but kept his chin up. It might not be as dramatic as gold bars or secret weapons, but he knew as well as anyone that the written word could still contain vast mysteries, so he skimmed the first page.

Then narrowed his eyes and read it again, more closely. Then the next page.

He knew Barnaby was probably awaiting his report with dwindling patience, given his obvious temper, but this was well outside of Arlo's wheelhouse, and he wanted to be sure he took the time to understand exactly what was at stake. After several more pages of legalese and medical jargon, he cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"I believe I understand his urgency better now," he said, passing the papers over to Victor. "Somebody in town must need what he's carrying, badly." Perhaps the field medic's background was better equipped for summarizing the situation for the captain; Arlo didn't trust himself not to make a mess of the explanation. "Keeping him cold, shouldn't be a problem, at any rate," he added, as an afterthought. "It may also help keep his fever at bay until Miss Haemish can tend to him. Miss Rooney, can you help me pack snow into his clothes?" Arlo asked, rolling his sleeves up to do exactly that.
Odette IC / Re: S1: Ep1 - Birds of a Feath...
Last post by Jedikiah Rembo - September 10, 2020, 11:58:37 am
Jedikiah had seen worse in his many years, but not recently. The savage attack was pretty unprecedented in his experience. Locals usually didn't like that sort of thing, violence in their streets. Unlike the thoughts of those in the Core, local warlords no longer ran roughshod, at least not for long, out in the border and rim worlds.

Too many people had fought in the war. Too many veterans weren't about to let some hooligan, local or not, make trouble in one's own home town. People had experience in fighting, and thanks to most everyone taking home their big powerful war guns, they were well armed.

So discerning certainly.

His thoughts as to what he was now peripherally involved in, at the very least, moved about in no particular path to a conclusion. So he made a little small talk as they walked.

"Darius? Lawman you said? Anyplace you might have worked for long period of time? I've been here and there. Federal or Local?" He looked at the man kindly. The man seemed experienced, hard; and yet he was following a little like a lost old dog that knew a pack of other jack-a-bouts might be a good place to linger."

 - - -

At the address Jedikiah considered offering that he stay outside. The least he consciously knew about their mission and their wares meant he would not have to move on. There was still a limit to how nefarious he would allow his own participation.

And then Captain Charity set to the task of straightening her crew for proper presentation including his own outfit.
'Delightful.' he thought. He couldn't miss the next scene in this.

"Thank you Miss." and then added. "Captain." He smiled broad and eager.

His hand held out a small tube of a topical pain gel, for her wrist if she so desired.

Current Iscariot Episode / Re: Iscariot Ep 5: On The Hunt
Last post by Hercules Holliday - September 09, 2020, 05:26:18 pm
Holliday would have laughed at the kid if he wasn't holding sharpened instruments so near his head. The kid was nervous enough it was obvious some back room stuff was happening in the... back room. What that could be was anyone's guess, but Holliday wasn't just anyone. Trained in the art of detection, with a lifetime spent on both sides of the law, he was uniquely suited to finding out just what that might be and how it might most benefit him. "Sure, I'll take the shave, kid." His soulful, puppy dog eyes found Orville's and he grinned. "I trust you." He hoped it would have the desired effect.

Effects, rather. Plural. One would be to actually inspire the young man to give him a proper shave, which he hadn't had in years. The duller by the minute electric razor he had next to the sink at Gary's rarely did the job to his satisfaction. But it was quick and efficient, kept his fine blond beard in the sink where it belonged. Winning Orville's trust was his second goal. Holliday would find out what was in that back room.

Before he could admire, or admonish, the shearing he'd received from the apprentice beginner barber, the chair fell back again, this time on purpose, though no less jarring. "Does the whiplash cost extra?" He joked, though corrected quick-like to soothe Orville's no-doubt fragile ego. "Kidding. I know you'll do fine." Charm didn't just extend to those he was determined to bed.

"That's nice." He said, as the kid whipped out a hot towel and smothered his cheeks with it. Technique was a little rushed, but the thought was there. Getting a proper shave out on the rim was a godsend, and Holliday wasn't about to complain. If the kid knew to towel him down first, and remembered to do it after, he was well trained. "Your boss teach you to shave, kid?" Steer the conversation, roundaboutslike, back to the girl. That's how it was done.
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