Of Services Brought

Participants:

Indira.jpg Kelarad.jpg Crawl (NPC)

Date: Jan. 24, 2011
Location: Kelarad's Quarters, Eastern Weyr
Synopsis: Indira stops by, with food, to meet the Tillekian crimelord and his second after spending much of the day with Keane. Information on family and past business is exchanged.
Rating: PG-13
Logger: Jaya


It's about time.

It took long enough for the crimelord of Tillek and his second-in-command to get a room - even though they took their time eating in the living cavern and taking a light tour of the Weyr. They didn't see much, but then, just had just got there. As much as Kelarad wanted to see his cousin and the south's new crimelord, he wanted to make sure he was comfortable first. It was odd that Keane, the Telgari barkeep tagging along with them, didn't come find them - some burly-looking man named Dorian found them instead and gave them their room - but after awhile the Tillekian figured he had went off to see Jaya Dicori. He wouldn't be surprised to find the man by her side should he find her bar - something he definitely plans on doing a couple of times while he's here. If her drinks are as good as he's heard… Well, there will be time for that. Maybe he'll spend one more day here than he planned.

It's the early evening on the same day they arrived, the two men resting in their quarters and preparing to leave for the evening meal. Kelarad is dictating to his second the plans of the next day, going over what he wants to do and whom he needs to see before he would have to return north. Crawl appears dutiful, but the crimelord knows full well that he's chomping at the bits to see his cousin, Olira. He knew the two weren't exchanging letters (they were smart not to do so under his eye), so many months have passed since the two have seen each other. "I'm more interested in the fighting circuits, of course," he's saying to Crawl, settling himself at the sole table in the room as he runs hands over the muscles in his arms. Since the south was much warmer than he was used to, he discards the long, thick overcoat for a sleeveless woven shirt that shows off his arms and coal-black pants. Crawl is more covered up, but is still dressed to accommodate the warm climate they find themselves in.

Eventually, Headwoman and barkeep came up for air and tore themselves away from each other. With Keane stating he was off to go and pay a visit to Jaya, Indira took the opportunity to do a little investigating of her own. A quick pass by the bathing caverns and fresh change of clothes deliberately chosen for impact, a turn passed the kitchens and then the tousled blonde, with a cunning smile in place and leaving a scented trail of jasmine in her wake, headed for the guest room assigned the Tillekian visitors.

Long blonde hair left loose to drape and curl as it wishes about her curvaceous form accents the wine red and black, off-the-shoulder summer dress she wears, the hem of which flirts and swirls just a few fingers above her knees. The click of sandaled heels slows and then comes to a halt just outside the guest room and expertly balancing the tray bearing two covered dishes in one hand; Indira gives a sharp rap against the doorframe leaning her weight seductively to one hip. Sloe eyes run an open look over first Crawl, and then continue on to Kelarad where they come to a halt, a slow, sly smile curving her mouth upward, “Hungry, darlin’?” Her sultry tone lending all kinds of suggestion to the query.

At the knock at the door, Crawl immediately gets up and approaches with a sharp look towards hi boss. “Expecting someone?” he asks in a low voice, frowning as he reaches for the doorknob. He watches Kelarad consider the question for a few seconds before shaking his head and takes up leaning back more comfortably in his seat. “Might be the Blood and Bucket barkeep,” he says then, just as Crawl swings the door open to reveal the blond-haired woman in a luscious summer dress balancing a tray of food. Her words cause an exchange of glances between the crimelord and his second, and Kelarad regards that suggestion note with an amused, “Since when does the Weyr cater to its, ah, colorful guests?” A corner of Crawl’s mouth lifts at those words, but his eyes are lingering all too well on Indira’s clothing more than on the tray she balances.

Without awaiting invitation, Indira expertly skirts about Crawl and enters the room with all the confidence of one who owns the joint, “Since her more colourful guests came aaaall the way from Tillek to visit with us.” Oh yes, she knows who they are and she’s letting them know. Moving over to the table now she deposits the tray right in front of Kelarad, careful to bend just enough that he’ll get to appreciate the curve of promise beneath the softly draped top of her dress and Crawl gets the shapely rear view. Straightening, she leans a hip up against the table, casting an enigmatic smile between the two, “You I know,” this to Kelarad (well she doesn’t really but she’s assuming he’s the crimelord of the two) “and you…” dark eyes narrow a long look onto Crawl, “I’m sure I’ve seen somewhere before.” Perhaps he was among those in the Blood and Bucket when she’d swanned in there as if she’d owned the place too? One can be sure that if he was among them, she’s well aware of it and playing on having a poor memory for her own reasons. "Now eat up. A pair of strapping lads such as yourselves, need a good hot one every now and then." Shameless! Except for the fact that with all the flair of a Maitre D, she whips off the lids of the covered dishes to reveal roast herdbeast, fresh vegetables and rice piled upon the plates.

Once Indira flits on in without asking, both men follow her intently with their eyes. Crawl’s eyes immediately narrow when she mentions their origins, but Kelarad’s demeanor only turns up the amusement on his part. His posture in the chair remains relaxed and easy, watching her set the tray down more than the try itself. Of course, despite Crawl’s open suspicions of her, he’s watching her ass when she presents it. “You,” the amused crimelord of Tillek drawls out in his rugged voice, eyes intently upon her face now, “know me?” There’s open disbelief in that, despite the fact that she had just said where he was coming from. When Indira turns towards his second then, “I’ve seen you from somewhere, too,” Crawl tacks on the moment after she tries to place him, eyes darting a look towards his boss. “You don’t say,” Kelarad sends both their ways then, not touching the food, seeming more intent upon eating up the Headwoman with his eyes instead. But he’s no fool. Nodding some signal towards his second, “Perhaps you should come and … share, with us,” he drawls to Indira then, gesturing towards the plate despite the heavy innuendo lingering in his tone. “I’m sure there’s enough here to go around.” – “Why don’t you not stay and tell us who you are instead,” Crawl drops now, lending no innuendos in his dangerous tone as he steps in right behind her.

Still leaned up against the table, Indira gives a little toss of tousled blonde head and utters a soft ‘tsking’ sound, “Who could forget such fighting prowess.” Her tone all but purring the words out, eyes once again slipping over Kelarad as if she had indeed been about at the time he was still fighting and been thoroughly attracted by it. The curve of lips that presents to Crawl hovers somewhere between a smirk and a smile, thus suggesting she knows exactly where she’s seen him before but she says nothing turning to his boss instead with the most winning of smiles in place and deliberately misinterpreting the crimelord’s words, summarily drops in to the other chair (Crawl’s), crossing one elegant leg over the other and beaming up at the second. “I think I prefer his suggestion more,” a slim hand waves in Kelarad’s direction. Back to him, “Now where were we. Oh yes, sharing.” Dark eyes fit to his rugged features and a slow knowing smile appears, “You’ve come a long way…Kelarad.” Dropping his name out into the room. Hands make a show of straightening the hemline of her dress that threatens to slip back to her thighs when in fact the one is simply at the ready to use the knife strapped to a thigh should either of them decide to try and get funny with her. Leaning forward to place an elbow onto the table, chinning cupping into that arm’s hand and providing lovely view of cleavage that disappears into the drape of her dress, “What brings such illustrious guests as yourselves to our humble Weyr, hmm? It can’t be the fights down here, you don’t fight anymore, more’s the pity,” perfecting a seductive little pout at the end.

“I would have remembered you, if you were in the crowd,” Kelarad is easy to note when Indira mentions his past fighting days before he became a crimelord – and such a drop of information has Crawl drawing himself up stiff and sending a look his way. Once she takes Crawl’s seat, Kelarad does not pay note to it. In fact, he seems far more interested in what the woman has to say, his fingers steepled together before him with that lingering smile that borders on being cool when she drops his name. Head tilting slightly to the side now, “I find myself at an disadvantage,” he says then, nodding towards her before flicking a glance over her towards a towering Crawl. “I mean, here I am, name in place, and yet we don’t know who you are. Care to share names unless you’re here to provide more … sensual services?” Yeah, he might as well be blunt about it. His eyes dip to that cleavage when it presents itself, and her question gets answered by Crawl rather than his boss: “Our business isn’t yours, serving wench.”

Low husky laughter spills out in response to Kelarad's first. "Charming," she states, amusement dancing in dark eyes, "I like you already." Approval given as she reveals that before now she hadn't known him from Faranth. As to the stiff-backed, disapproving Crawl? She turns an amused look up to him, "Oh come now, darlin', I'm not going to jump him," well not in the way that the second might be imagining, "Just thought I'd keep him company for a bit." Was that an implication that Crawl is second rate company or that…she's offering more intimate services as touched on by his boss? Who knows. Back to Kelarad with an enigmatic smile curving about her sensual mouth as to whom she might be. It's his second's last that draws a cold snap to her expression, eyes glittering dangerously as she flickers a disparaging glance up to the big man before turning her attention back to his boss. Her hand drops from her chin and extends the short distance across the table to make formal greeting, "Indira…" a faint smirk traces out, "mother to the one you know as Max." Suggesting she knows Southern's young crimelord by another name and keeping her title to herself for the time being.

Kelarad smirks. “Far from it,” he answers her on being charming, that smile staying in place. While he could tell Crawl to back off, well, he’s going to do that just yet. Indira gets a glare from the second-in-command, who sends a look the crimelord’s way for him humoring the woman. Of course Kelarad makes no response to him as well. He notes the woman bristling at the term Crawl used for her, lips curling briefly at it, but it’s the formal introduction that has him straightening up and loosening the hold on his tongue. Taking her hand into his bigger, rougher one, “So you’re the mother of Southern’s new crimelord,” he muses on that, eyes going over her towards a slightly shocked-looking Crawl that takes a step back. Eyes back on Indira then, “A pleasure. I was starting to wonder about how connected your son is since we’ve received no greeting all day.” His hand is firm and unyielding before he releases it, settling back once more to maintain that atmosphere of ease. “Did Max send you?” he asks directly then, chin dropping a studying look on her as Crawl appears to her side now to eye the food she brought closely.

"Mmm," is all that Indira gives in response to Kelarad initially. The glare from Crawl … dismissed. Her cool, slim hand closes about his in a far firmer grip than he might have expected, head inclining slightly, "Well met, Tillek." Once her hand is released she leans back in her seating putting a more intent and still slightly amused study over Tillek's crimelord, "Hardly darlin'." This to Max having sent her. "He'd likely be dropping kittens right now if he knew I was here." Smirk. Making it clear that her son doesn't control her. Catching Crawl's movement from the corner of her eye and his wary study of the food she'd brought, dark eyes roll expressively and taking up a fork she takes a small amount of the food, pops it in her mouth, chews and swallows. Licking her lips a sardonic smile is put up to him, "Really, darlin', unclench your butt for a second and eat." This as she pushes a plate closer to the big, scowling man. Back to Kelarad, "So you and Max have known each other a long time then." Statement, not query, thought there might be the hint of an upward lilt to her tone.

Tillek’s crimelord studies Eastern Headwoman, studies him. He is surprised that her grip is firm, but he doesn’t fully let on on the outside. He doesn’t react to the fact that Max didn’t send her their way, either. “Come to scope out the competition, then?” Kelarad puts forth to her then, a fork lifting now as he goes to spear some meat on the top. Both men seem reluctant to eat the food until Indira does, really, and at her response, “You’ll have to excuse our behavior,” the crimelord puts in, noting his second bristling visibly at the words and cutting him off before he could utter something foul. “We’ve had recent events involving poisoned food, so ahhh …” and a hand lifts, gesturing to the ceiling as the statement trails away. “It’s nothing new, really, that being the business we run, but you can understand our … caution.” Blue eyes lighting on Indira’s own now, “After all, we are in foreign territory, as it is – despite, current budding alliances.” But since Indira ate something, it couldn’t be bad, right? Crawl leans forward to pick up a fork and spear from vegetables, remaining gratefully silent as Indira continues the conversation with his boss. “Long enough,” Kelarad now answers to her last, taking a bite of the meat and chewing it down. “Max and I do go a way back. Is that the reason why you’re here?” a brow lifts, his amusement never abating as he continues to study her face and demeanor.

Low husky laughter once again issues from the tousled blonde, "Call me curious." She states simply on why she's there to begin with. Amusement dances in her eyes as even Kelarad appears to be cautious of the food until she demonstrates that its poison free. Once they both start to tuck in, she notes almost idly and hopefully not while they both have a mouthful and risk choking, "Which would be why the Headwoman herself delivered your meals rather than …" dark eyes tracking to Crawl now, "some lower caverns serving wench." Smiiirk! And then back to the crimelord himself as a chuckle spills out, "You can consider Eastern a home away from home, Kelarad. Olira does." Dropping another rock in the pond. Is she that determined to have the men choking on their food? Knowing her? Probably. Her turn to go silent at the dirty blonde's last, but she does so with a well feigned look of disinterest and bared shoulders roll in a nonchalant shrug. Her next words couched around a smirk as she takes a stab in the dark, "A son will always downplay his successes in the ring." Suggesting that she's the type of mother only too keen to hear of her son's fighting prowess.

Blue eyes appearing merry, “Then call me curious, as well,” Kelarad returns, a suggestive note present in his rugged voice – that is, until both realize she is the Weyr’s Headwoman. Both men pause in their eating, Crawl’s eyes widening and Kelarad’s eyes narrowing slightly. “Headwoman?” he echoes that, leaning a little forward. “Then perhaps you can help us find a friend of ours,” he explains, resuming his eating slowly as he meets Crawl’s shocked gaze briefly. “We arrived with a man by the name of Keane. We sent him your way to secure rooms for us, but we haven’t seen him since.” He expecting the woman to know at least, eyes boring into her curiously for her answer to his whereabouts. Since she welcomes them to the Weyr – and brings up his cousin’s name, Crawl actually clears his throat with a slight flush to his face and Kelarad inclines his head briefly toward her. “It’s not everyday we are afforded such kindness,” he notes to her welcome, “although, I imagine, we somewhat deserve it.” He knows what he is. “So I suppose you will be the host and take us to Olira as soon as possible?” he asks before she mentions Max again – or rather, his fighting prowess in the circuits. There’s a pause here as the crimelord of Tillek regards the woman with slightly narrowed eyes, then wryly, “He was quite good,” he says slowly, considering his choice in words. After a heavy pause, “Is there … something I could help you with, dear Headwoman?” he asks now, cutting some manners of pleasantries. “I have this feeling that you are here for more than just seeing that we are fed and … serviced, for the night.”

That suggestive note coming through in Kelarad's tone earns him a thoroughly amused look for some or other reason. As he questions her title a dark blonde brow arches delicately, "It has its…uses." Sly hint given as to how her position is made to work in her favor at times. And then her eyes are suddenly drifting off the Tillekian's face, avoiding those blue eyes of his and finding his plate of extreme interest when he asks after Keane's whereabouts. The lull before her response is brief, though an observant person might realize there's more being left unsaid than what does get said, "I believe he went off to find Jaya and catch up with her." For most of the day? Mmhmm. Now that her gaze has lifted once again, the slight flush setting to Crawl's face when she mentions Olira, is noted with curiosity. "Southern hospitality, Kelarad," words chosen carefully and edged with a tone that lends a glimpse of the hard-assed and cunning woman behind the title of Headwoman and Southern's crimelord, "is only extended … to the deserving." The tousled blonde head inclines in acquiescence to taking them to see his cousin, "I'll see what I can arrange. She's been hidden with the Weyrlingmaster for her safety." Thus hoping to delay such a visit and the resulting revelation of the woman's condition for a little while longer. His narrowed regard is met with an unflinching one of her own, Indira's chin lifting slightly, "You can help me by telling me what trouble that whelp of mine got himself into up there. Because no one comes to the attention of Tillek's crimelord by being a good boy and polishing his boots for him." And there's the woman that wields a power of her own beyond her position at the Weyr shown in that level look and calmly spoken words.

“Instead of seeing about me and Crawl?” Kelarad notes on the Telgari barkeep, especially since Indira looks away from him. Blue eyes searches over her before sending a raised brow towards a watching Crawl. For now, he won’t question it. Picking at the food as she answers on southern hospitality, “And we’re deserving … . in a Weyr,” he states, finding that amusing as he regards her now. “Then Crawl and I are grateful to you, Indira. Especially on the matter of my cousin.” Onto the last, that has the renegade crimelord laying down his fork and taking a moment to choose his words there. A brow lifting then, “He fought in my circuits, of course,” he decides to say then, carefully. “Your son. As you had mentioned. I fail to understand what trouble you mean. Perhaps,” he notes, appearing dismissive of the subject, “you should sit your son down and ask him? I hate dwelling on the past. Don’t you?” – “Your son’s a liar, for start,” Crawl loosens his tongue, having had his fill of the food for now. Catching Kelarad’s admonishing eye, “We knew him as ‘Rogan’.”

Indira affects a pout, “I’m not good enough? You’d rather have, Keane?” deliberately glossing over the time lapsed between their arrival at the Weyr and her bringing them dinner. No way she was about to be explaining how she’d kept their travelling companion in a tangle of sheets for most of the day. Nuh uh. A smirk followed by a chuckle greets Kelarad’s comment about what can be expected from a Weyr, “Don’t…believe everything you hear about us Weyrfolk, Kelarad. There’s often more than meets the eye hiding in plain sight.” Such as his cousin. A which she plans on broaching as soon as she’s gotten what she wants on her son out of the man. The anger that rises up when he confirms Max’s participation in the Tillekian fight circuits is only barely pushed down in time, just the barest glitter to dark eyes remaining as she forces a wry smile out, “As I expected.” At his next the tousled blonde bares her neck as her head tilts back, throaty laughter spilling out for the suggestion of sitting her son down and simply asking him herself. Sweeping it aside without reply she sets a pointed look onto the younger man, “In order to understand what shapes our futures, the past needs to be given its dues. Wouldn’t you agree?” An elegant brow lifting at the end there and staying where it is when Crawl interjects, dark eyes narrowing slightly at the accusation and then giving an oddly placed snort of amusement, “Well now it seems he remembered at least something of what he was taught then.” Not in the least bit fazed that Max had gone under another name during his time at Tillek.

When Indira affects a pout and speaks on Keane, Kelarad merely smiles. He addresses her next instead, with “You … Weyrfolk, hmmmm.” Who knows what the man is thinking right now, with him being so good at schooling his expression to neutrality. He catches that spark of anger at mentioning Max fighting for him before, “I shape my future,” he counters on such words, his arrogance laid bare with that little smile of his. “What have need of the past unless to use it against someone?” He doesn’t seem surprised to hear Indira answer Crawl’s suspicions too, and so his fingers come together before him and he slowly leans forward before putting forth, “I grow bored, dear. You want something from me or what?” He’s not one to play word games, it being shown in his antsy demeanor. Crawl snorts as he himself settles behind his boss, arms coming to a fold across a broad chest as he looks down on the blonde woman with barely a smile now.

Kelarad’s arrogance draws a faint smirk from Indira, though who can tell if its approval or something more disparaging that drives it. Sloe eyes tighten at the corners when he speaks of growing bored, a long and intent look settling first on him and then lifting to Crawl as he positions himself behind his boss. The smirk that had threatened earlier now deepens, “You have nothing that I want, darlin’.” Although that suggestive rake of eyes that flows over him, might suggest otherwise and then she leans back in her chair, looking to be going nowhere soon her dark eyed gaze still settled onto him in contemplative silence and then a soft sight spills from her lips. “You’ll be wanting to see your cousin now, I assume,” the tight and impenetrable mask allowing a touch of humanity to show through as a light frown forms for what she finds it her onerous task to tell them, “There’s…something you should know before you do though.” Chin lifting a little to include Crawl in the matter she’s about to broach not a trace of fear shows despite the man’s status in the underworld of Pern.

“Are you certain?” Kelarad immediately tacks on behind her answer of there being something Indira wanted from him, not believing her for a second. Blue eyes scanning the plate, then pointedly her attire, “Something tells me my second and I didn’t just get this treatment due to the Weyr’s hospitality – especially knowing full well that no one save for my currently missing guest would know that we’re here.” Beat. “Since your son didn’t send you here.” Yes, he’s calling her out now, all manners of amusement now gone from his face. “If it’s information you want, speak. I might be able to help. But,” and his eyes slowly meets her own, “I haven’t the stomach for games like some of my outlaw brothers and sister tend to play.” Now the smile returns unbidden. “Though I appreciate the attire,” he adds as an afterthought, leaning back some, “but something tells me if I truly have my way with you, matters between you’re son and I would deteriorate,” which effectively puts the Headwoman off-limits in his eyes. “Not in the mood to burn bridges. I’ll get to Olira in enough time,” he now chooses to address the later without pause, setting the food aside. “I wanted to see Max first. What about my cousin?” Crawl leans a little forward too from behind Kelarad, his interest in hearing what she has to say obvious in his gaze.

Indira fits Kelarad with a tight and somewhat challenging look, giving little away on whether or not she’s cowed by his words, in fact if anything the faint curve to the corner of her mouth might suggest she’d been testing him all along. What she says next is probably the last thing he expected hear, “No bullshit. I like that.” A short chuckle greets his words on her effectively being out of bounds, “Perhaps a few months ago, I might have taken offence to that.” But since having stepped into the Blood and Bucket on that fateful day, she’s simply amused by it, “So consider your bridges safe.” For now. All pretences fall away with her leaning forward as he leans back, hand lacing together before her on the table, expression taking on a hard line, “Tell me about the two that he used to hang around with in Tillek. A big fellow, built like a rock shithouse,” yes, polite use of language is now gone out of the door too, “and an older man. Bald, hard face. Both with blue eyes. I need their names as you knew them, and I need to know what associations they had with my son and what ties they might have had to the Hold proper.” When he asks after his cousin, the Headwoman fits them both with a long look and then lips press together, “When last did either of you hear from her?” assuming the young woman to having been writing to at least one of the two of them as provision had been made for her to do so.

Might have been the last thing Kelarad expected to hear, but he wouldn’t let on for her to notice. “I’m glad you do,” is what he says instead, lips quirking. Once the Headwoman gets to business – something the renegade warms more to – he shifts more comfortably in his chair and tilts his head slightly at her offer. Regarding her hard expression for a long moment, letting the silence in the room linger, “Two fellows, fought for me too?” he asks then, eyes unfocusing as he tries to recall. Crawl suddenly moves to the side of him as if he were implanting himself into the discussion. “I remember such men,” he recalls, eyes narrowing. “Yes, of course,” Kelarad tacks on behind him, eyes lighting on Indira. “Rogan, as we knew him, hung around with some fighters by the name of Jaisynn and Ned. Ring any bells?” he asks her then, brow lifting. On the matter of Olira, her question for them both causes the men to look at each other. “We haven’t,” Crawl answers for them both, and Kelarad adds in, “What’s happened to my cousin?” He gives nothing away on whether or not he knows anything about Olira and her condition, his face almost an impenetrable mask.

A brow goes up when Kelarad reveals that both men had been a part of Max’s involvement in the fight circuits, though as expected the names are unfamiliar to her. Leaning back in her chair a little, legs uncrossing and then crossing again, she makes no effort to hide the faint outline of the thigh knife she wears when the thin fabric of her dress flattens against it. “Which was which?” she asks after a brief silence with regards to the names given out and then adds with an oddly tight note to her tone, “Did either of them have ties to Tillek Hold proper?” Now knowing that her granddaughter is essentially ‘hidden’ away there, she’s essentially trying to get the lay of the land as much as is possible for while her son might well be Southern’s crimelord, she’s been in the game of making people disappear and reappear with new identities, far longer than he has. These thoughts flash so quickly through Indira’s mind that it’s unlikely to be noticed that she’d taken pause before answering the question put to her in return on the matter of Olira. Lips purse into a line of annoyance and she mutters quietly, “Stupid girl,” and then louder for the benefit of the two men before her, “It would seem that your Bitran counterpart has left somewhat of a permanent calling card.” She lets those words linger in the air before cutting to the chase and though her words are blunt, there is a slight softening to otherwise inscrutable features, tone showing an edge of gentleness, “She’s pregnant and…has insisted on keeping the child.” The faint frown making it clear that she herself has no idea why the woman would want to do such a thing, she however doesn’t give the thought verbalisation merely setting a dark and watchful look onto Kelarad and Crawl for the rock just dropped on them.

Once Indira leans back in her seat, Kelarad regards her question in brief silence. Blue eyes narrowing slightly, he abruptly turns toward his second and asks, “You recall, don’t you? Jaisynn and Ned?” He knew of course, but for some reason he was foisting such revelations off on his second. Crawl now regards Indira steadily before nodding his confirmation to Kelarad’s questions. “Yeah. I know alright. Jaisynn’s the dockworker, the sailor. Big man that likes his bed full of women as much as he likes to run that mouth of his all the time. And Ned –“ he looks down towards Rad, “-Nedderon,” he corrects himself then, eyes back on Indira with that smarmy-looking smirk for having more information than the Headwoman does on the matter, “was a guard from Tillek. Quiet sort. Bald sort. Used to be one of the ones that trained our fighters. Rogan, included.” Brows lift and fall briefly, arrogant in its deliverance. “Want ties, look to Ned.” – “Thank you, Crawl,” Kelarad states then, eyes flicking over to Indira then. Both men note the insult to Olira with a brief furrow of brows, but it’s her next that sets tensions in the air. Heavy silence marks all that she reveals then, though the reactions from both at hearing of Olira being pregnant mark on opposite sides of the spectrum. Crawl’s eyes widen at the thought, the man looking away from her to some point on the desk while Kelarad merely narrows his eyes. Long silence lingers before the crimelord of Tillek leans forward with his hands clasped together and his head bowed for the moment. When he finally looks at her, “How far along is she?” he asks first, quietly, careful not to look Crawl’s way.

Indira meets that steady look coming from Crawl with one of her own; as he goes on to explain which is which. The revelation given on Jaisynn (or Waine as she knows him) was more or less expected, it's what he has to say about Nedderon (also known as Yaron) along with that smirk of his that draws a brief flash of anger in the narrowing of eyes, though whether its for the delivery of the information or the information itself, remains unclear. When Kelarad thanks his second, so she does she with a graceful incline of head, "You have been most helpful, thank you." The dangerous glitter in dark eyes in complete contrast to the outwardly calm and collected exterior she presents. On the matter of Olira, lips form around a light frown the reactions from the two men, as expected as they had been. Having identified there to be something more to his interest in the redhead than simply interest in her wellbeing, Crawl is sent a sympathetic look. Kelarad however, draws the focus of her attention. Slowly the tousled blonde leans forward, arms folding over each other on the tabletop and although a hand twitches as if she'd been of a mind to reach a hand toward him in gesture of comfort, it remains where it is, laid lightly over the forearm of its opposite mate, allowing the younger man space to absorb the information. "Around six and a half, seven months," she gives quietly meeting his eyes with compassion showing in her own.

“We aim to please, after all,” Kelarad returns on her thanks with a roll of his shoulders. Hands raise up in a proud show, blue eyes flicking towards his second, “There a reason why you’re looking for such information?” he asks Indira then, some of his amusement evident. “Information on those fools, even,” Crawl mutters beside him, his ire for both of them evident in his tone. On the matter of Olira, his eyes falling on those arms, “And how long were you all planning to wait before sending word to me on this?” Kelarad directs now, regarding her compassion with little emotion. Crawl’s frowning heavily now, looking away from both boss and Headwoman as he falls into his own thoughts. This was definitely something he was not expecting to hear. “Were you waiting until Vaputero’s bastard child was born on my own cousin before sending word?” Yeah, that comes out a little harsher than he perhaps intended, but no apology springs forth. He appears, predictably, upset. Turning to Crawl, catching the man lost in his own thoughts, “What do you think of this?” he tosses his way, knowing full well the woman’s significance to him. Crawl darts a look his way, then towards Indira before guardedly answering with “It’s expected, isn’t it? Though, being the Weyr, I supposed such … delicate matters would have been taken care of before it got out of hand.” ‘Out of hand’, meaning, that Olira would not be pregnant at this point.

Kelarad's amusement is regarded with little of her own, the Headwoman obviously not yet certain of just how far she could trust the Tillekian with certain sensitive knowledge, not to mention that her son would be likely to have her ass in a sling if she revealed any information regarding his daughter. And so she gives a quick smirk, "Never a bad thing for a mother to have something with which to yank her whelp into line with, aye?" And then Indira goes quiet, jaw setting for the rather difficult situation now on the table for discussion. Silence is eventually broken with the faint lift of a brow and a quietly given, "It wasn't our place to let you know, Kelarad." Thus indicating it had been Olira's to do so. "As far as I was aware, she'd been communicating with you through written form. Or at least," a light frown forms, "she was given ample opportunity to do so." His harsh words, the anger expected as it was, are met without a flinch but it's to Crawl's comment that her expression softens and some of the 'stupid girl' muttered earlier is explained in her next, "The choice was hers to make. Short of manhandling her to a dragon and strapping her on, we had little recourse but to respect her wishes." Silence forms about the tousled blonde a few moments and then with a sigh she adds with a look flickering between both men, "Look, she's under the care of the Weyr's best healers and probably safer here than anywhere else given the child's parentage. Although I can fully understand if you'd sleep better at night knowing that one of your own is in place and keeping an eye on her too." Thus making open offer for Kelarad to leave an additional member of his crew at the Weyr, and that at risk of her son blowing a fuse. Which he's likely to do anyway given what he might view as his mother's interference in the matter.

Indira’s answer gets an immediate “Your whelp’s running this continent,” Kelarad notes, almost in admonishment. He sets that aside for now. Right now, the topic of his cousin’s far along pregnancy has the floor. “It became your place when I put Olira into Max’s care,” he continues now, his tone more businesslike than it’s been all day. “She’s a woman from Tillek Hold, Indira. She’s far more holdbred than not. Of course she would keep such things from me. I expect those I’ve placed her care in would have at least sent me word.” Crawl, for his part, remains silent. Both men fall silent at those latter words given, the crimelord putting up a look of displeasure before sending his second a look. “Look,” and Kelarad leans forward now. “Olira’s choices aren’t all her own. The kind of business I run … there’s those out there looking to harm those around me, just to get at me. I could not prevent what happened to her, but this …” and hands lift at almost helplessness, shaking his head. “This is going to cause trouble,” he notes, eyes sliding away from the Headwoman now. “It’s safe to say Vaput would know of this already,” Crawl tacks on behind him, breaking his silence quietly. “If Flack could find out,” the crimelord puts in coolly, “then one can be sure that Vaput’s people here would have sent word, too.” Flack. Such mention of the man alludes to the fact that Kelarad had been told before, too.

Rather than look apologetic, or cowed in any way for the admonishment given, Indira instead lifts a brow and sends the barest trace of a darkly amused look back to Kelarad in return. If he thinks the cub has claws, it's nothing in comparison to the mama bear's bite. But she's not about to let him in on just what sort of weight she has at her disposal, especially not when her son doesn't really have the full picture of his dam's dealings either. And so glossing over the semantics of who should have told what to whom and when, she turns focus to the topic at hand, straightening in her seating with both expression and body language taking on an unyielding line, "I've been in the business of protecting people a lot longer than your Olira's been alive, Kelarad," a certain note of authority stringing into the blonde's tone though it holds no disparagement to it, "And I've not lost someone yet that wasn't due to their own stupidity in revealing themselves. So believe me when I say, we know what we're doing." For some reason a faint smirk is now sent Crawl's way and then she continues, "However" a hand lifting to forestall protest or argument, "you don't know me, my methods, or my intentions. So in this matter, I shall concede to your position and wishes. But I promise you this" steel entering her husky tone, "Vaputero won't get anywhere near her. Not so long as she's at the Weyr and he values his throat in one piece. Dragons…can be very convincing bodyguards." Not to mention pissed off Headwomen with an axe to grind. Flack's name being dropped into conversation draws not a flicker of reaction for she'd been fairly convinced at the outset that Kelarad had already known of his cousin's condition. Or at least presuming that if he was half the crimelord he was made out to be, that he would.

Kelarad takes Indira’s silence to mean acquiesce, so he doesn’t bother pressing any points made. It’s her taking a stand and speaking of her own business that gets his attention for the moment. A corner of his mouth lifting as he points his finger towards her, “Duly noted,” he drawls in his rugged voice with an incline of his head. “I’ve still got me a pregnant cousin and an angry fellow crimelord to deal with, however,” he goes on to say, back to business. Vaputero’s crazy enough not to be cowed by towering dragons, dear.” Snorting, “Leave Vaputero to me. Visit’s been overdue, anyway.” This visit won’t be a good one either, one can surmise by his tone. Nodding, “Perhaps I can see her in the morning,” he tells Indira then, his tone turning brisk. “Then your son for the rest of the day. Crawl here,” and he turns, gesturing towards the listening second, “will be staying for the rest of the sevenday along with my guest, Keane. I won’t be. I trust you will keep them in your hospitality while they’re here?” He had much to think about when it came to his cousin, and so, he was setting that topic to rest for now. He does add, however, “My gratitude for telling me about Olira’s condition. Better late than never, hmm?” Even if he already knew before arriving there.

"Just what we're hoping for," Indira gives with a dark smirk on dragons not being enough to deter Bitra's crimelord from paying the south a visit and thus overplaying his hand and into theirs. However when Kelarad says he'll be paying the man a visit, she simply dips her head in acknowledgement thereof and says no more on the subject. On his visiting with his cousin in the morning there's given a nod, "I'm sure she'll appreciate it, though…" and she dares to offer him unsolicited advice whether it will anger him or not, "be gentle with her, aye? You're her family first and her power of authority, second." That having been said she uncrosses her legs and stands gracefully to her feet. "I'll be sure to let Max know to expect you," not giving any hint that her son was already aware of the Tillekian's presence in the Weyr having been forewarned earlier in the day. She can't help the faint smirk that touches to her lips with regards to keeping the remaining men comfortable, more especially Keane himself, "Oh, I'll be sure that they lack for nothing." Ahem. Again, a short incline of head in acknowledgement of the thanks given and then she puts forward her own, "Thank you for being honest with me," about her son's involvement with the circuits and the two he'd brought back with him, "If there's anything I can do in return…" she lets the words trail off and turns toward the door a saucy smile in place, "though in order to keep the 'peace' so to speak, I'm afraid it will have to end at satisfying hungers of a purely food related nature.” A wink and then she's out the door leaving the light scent of jasmine in her path.

Kelarad matches that dark smirk, regarding the woman before him in a different light. “Between Dicori and his bastard child being here? Vaputero will find Eastern Weyr hard to resist,” he says, dark humor present in his voice. He takes the advice on dealing with Olira in stride though, inclining his head on the matter as he watches Indira get to his feet. He instead addresses the words on meeting with Max with a wry “Gratitude. It shouldn’t surprise him, if he’s as connected as I’m hoping he is.” He seems appeased on making sure Crawl and Keane are taken care of once he’s gone, and the crimelord merely nods once to her thanks on the matter of Max’s past. “If there’s anything that we need,” he states then, Crawl following her to the door, “keeping the peace, and all that, my dear, then I’ll send Crawl for you. Enjoy your evening.” The meeting concluded, Kelarad returns to the food left on the table, just as Crawl sniffs at the scene of jasmine wafting behind her as she leaves.



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