Southern Hospitality

Participants:

Indira.jpg Lorayit.jpg (NPC'd by Jaya)

Date: Sept. 10, 2010
Location: Headwoman's Office, EW
Synopsis: Lo the farmer makes good on his offer to make himself known to the Weyr's Headwoman.
Rating: PG-13
Logger: Jaya


Morning in Eastern brings all kinds to one's office. For starters, it brings about a tall, blonde farmer to the Headwoman's, the man not being very quiet as he whistles his unfamiliar tune down the hall. Stopping a passing laundress for further directions, the woman points him towards where Indira's office is and Lorayit takes up both his stride and his tune once more. Whether the Headwoman is present or not, the farmer enters the place and knocks twice on the wall when he finally stops to get some attention with his charming smile plastered on his face.

Wearing well fitting breeches in black, and an over-vest of similarly softened and well-fitting leather, her long mane of tousled hair braided back from Indira’s headwoman’s face while lending her a youthful air, destroys any preconceptions anyone might have of a Headwoman. Then again, this is not her usual form of dress whilst on duty, so perhaps this is one of those rare days off for the woman? The knock to the wall finds her not at her desk, but rather exiting her private quarters with a wide-brimmed hat in hand. A dark blonde brow arches upward delicately as her attention lands on the tall blonde farmer, “Yes?” Just that, no other greeting forthcoming just yet.

His gaze fastening on the dark blonde with a look of open appreciation, "Hey there, little lady," Lorayit greets with his flashy smile, a dimple seen in one cheek as he sweeps his hat off his head. "Are /you/ the Headwoman in this here Weyr?" Blue eyes rake over the office, as if any connection between her and it would be present. "I'm looking to make myself known, since that's the proper protocol, apparently." Eyes find Indira again, his smile lingering as he moves further into the office with his hat in hands.

Little lady? Both brows hike upward and Indira sets a long and skeptical look over the charmer, “It’s Headwoman, or ma’am,” she finally produces in a cool tone with a just flick of dark eyes over the younger man in brief assessment. Setting her own hat to the edge of the desk, the headwoman reaches for a neckerchief lying neatly folded there and proceeds to tie it loosely at her neck. A smirk forms and the coolness melts from her tone, as a husky laughs spills, “Well now, darlin’. A woman could take that any number of ways.” Dropping her hands away again a soft sigh spills out as she realizes that whatever plans she’d had, are about to be delayed. Moving toward her own seating, the spare chair on the other side of the desk is indicated, “New to the Weyr then, are you?”

Lo doesn't seem daunted by that correction. Not at all. Bowing slightly in her direction, "Ma'am," he's willing to correct himself, but the way he says that word just sounds a little too dirty for it to be polite. He watches her with interest, her husky words getting rumbly laughter from the farmer as he places his hat on top of the nearest chair and doesn't yet move to sit in it. "A woman usually does," he's easily to toss those words right back at her, the glint in his eyes one of amusement with the situation put before him. "But I should be polite, for now." Suggesting that next time, not so much? "Looks like you're heading out," he finally addresses her attire, and the neckerchief that she ties about. "I'm new, yes, but perhaps if you'd like me to stop on by another time?" and hand lifts, gesturing towards the entrance with his tall, lean body shifting slightly to allow her to pass him should she decide to be on her way.

There’s only the vaguest flicker of expression to suggest that Indira had picked up on the manner in which Lo spoke the word as she drops into her chair crossing one leg elegantly over the other while drawing a sheet of documents toward her. One corner of her mouth crooks upward in a light smirk, as she glances upward at the man still standing, “Not being polite comes at a cost.” Suggesting that to be either a warning, or a challenge, leaving that up to him as to how to take it. Being as how she’s now seated, and reaching for a stylus from out of a pot of writing implements, the headwoman merely tipples another brow lifted look in the farmer’s direction stating in businesslike tone, “Sit,” sounding more directive than invitation, “name, designation and origin,” she shoots out in a rapid fire line of questioning.

Once Indira seats herself and doesn't look to be going anywhere anytime soon, "Life is nothing but risks, is it not?" Lorayit is easy to return those words to her when she talks of the costs of not being polite. He moves forward then and drops haphazardly into a chair, leaning comfortably in it wth his hand resting in his lap as he watches her. Blue eyes falling on that stylus she wields, the rapid firing of questions gets a languid answer from him: "Lorayit. Farmer. Southern." Eyes linger from the stylus to the Headwoman, the glimmers of a returning smile threatening to come forth.

Dark eyes show a glimmer of amusement at Lo’s return on the dangers of being impolite, a simple and untelling, “Mmm” given in response. The answers sent her questions are quickly written down and then Indira’s head lifts and she gives him a thorough going over as if committing him to memory for some or other reason before starting down a new line of questioning, “Spouse, children, and reasons for coming to Eastern.” Catching the edges of a smile threatening to appear, the headwoman watches his mouth a moment longer and then bends her head back to the document and jots down a note in the margin. The almost brusque mannerisms may or may not have the effect of setting the man a little on edge. Then again, perhaps they’re designed to do just that?

"No woman would keep me," Lo notes on spouses, "and fuck if I know whether I've got children or not." So non-chalant the response is given, one would think the young man almost couldn't care less whether he did or not. His gaze never wavers on the Headwoman, then it drops when he catches her writing something else to the hide with a quick twitch of brows. Still, he stays calm, relaxed, and easygoing - rolling his shoulders back in a stretch before he finally answers the last one. "Never been to a Weyr," he states, his eyes stealing over the office as if seeing it for the first time right then. "Got some friends that convinced me to come on over. Seems like a good idea, so why not?" Eyes rest on Indira now, his tone staying light and breezy. "I'm good at what I do," he adds, nodding firmly. "I keep my head down and stick to the fields. Hard work and dirt's all I know, and I'd figured, Weyr would recognize a hard-working man." Maybe not -now-, given he's so slack and lazy-looking sprawled in one of Indira's seats, of course.

Lo’s comment on any children he’s unaware of having sired earn him a hard look from the headwoman and quietly muttered, “Figures,” as she makes note of both that and his single status on the document. His further comments on never having been to a Weyr and being at Eastern as a result of urging by others draws a flicker of interest from Indira as eyes flicker upward from the document she’s currently busy with, “Oh? You’ve got friends here already? Anyone I would know?” which is likely a trap laid out considering she is the holder of the Weyr population census documentation but then he might not be aware of that. Leaning back in her seat, dark eyes settle onto the sprawled man once again as she taps the stylus to her lips in a show of contemplation, “So you’re looking for employment in the Weyr’s gardens or looking to secure a piece of farmland to work yourself?”

Lorayit merely stares back at that hard look from the Headwoman, choosing it best not to respond to it as she makes her marks. "No one you would know," the farmer is quick to dismiss, a flick of fingers indication of that. "They're up north and have heard of the general kindness of this here Weyr," and he makes a wave of his fingers with a flourish to mark that point. "I seem to be the bold one to come check it out, though, being that I'm down here already…" he chuckles again, shrugging. It's all lies for sure, but he's so smooth in their deliverance that there's not even any hesitation to suggest otherwise. Indira's further questioning, which Lo shows no indication of being uncomfortable about, earns her another smile and a "I'm best on farmland," he notes, "but I can be assigned anywhere that needs tending. If you think the gardens is more in need, I'll go there. Otherwise…" his smile deepens, leaving that to trail.

“Try me,” Indira’s tone turns into a husky silk of words (almost seductive to the untrained ear) to her not knowing any of those that supposedly encouraged Lo to the Weyr. Although those very few that know her well, would know that tone of voice speaks to nothing but cunning and danger for the person trying one on her. Openly dubious now, “Right, Northerners are recommending Eastern,” a soft snort and then considering her own arrival and that of many others from up North, she lets it go, simply making another notation on the document before her.
“Farmland of your own to work would have to go before the Weyrleaders for their consideration. The gardens, I can assign you to,” a brow lifting up in a ‘what will it be?’ gesture.

"They're looking at the opportunities," Lo notes, bypasing Indira's command with that glinting smile in place. Fingers lacing together before him, "Southern presents a new life to Northerners, so can you blame them? You seem to be a Northerner yourself," and his eyes openly appraise the older woman now, the glint in his blue eyes growing. "Surely you came for the same? A chance at a different kind of life? Excitement? The unknown?" He could go on, he really, could, but he feels his point made. Her last gets pause before he nods, naturally answering with, "The gardens, if that 's best,"smoothly. "Don't want to make any waves. At least, not right now. I can always go to them later on, I suppose?"

There is simply a smirk when Lo adroitly bypasses her challenge as Indira lapses into silence, giving him the floor to lay his words out on, watching him intently. The open appraisal coming from the farmer returned with just the barest hint of an eyebrow lifting in challenge that is laced together with the edges of amusement. Finally when he’s done talking she leans forward, folding her arms before her on the desk and putting her most alluring smile onto him. Her words however, may seem in direct contrast, “First of all your picking me out as a Northerner was a no-brainer. My speech patterns and accent are a dead give-away,” that smile holding still holding in place, “Secondly, as to why I’m here?” a dark laugh exceeds her tight rein and spills out, “You really…don’t want to know.” That having been said, there comes a curt nod of head to his deciding on the gardens as she makes one last notation and closes the folder the documentation is filed in. Standing to her feet, the headwoman moves over to a series of crates stacked on their sides and extracts a knot woven together in Eastern’s colors. Turning she tosses it in his direction, simply expecting him to catch it. No formalities, this is her day off after all. Sauntering toward him, she skirts the chair where he sits at the last moment and reaches for her hat instead. Setting it to her head, ensuring the brim is tilted just-so, he gets a lazy smile, “I’ll be keeping my eye on you, Lo of Southern.” Said in such a way that an arrogant man might take that as a definite sign of attraction to him. But then, this is Indira, mistress of mind games, especially when it comes to men.

"But you're still here, right?" Lorayit doesn't stand down from the Headwoman's words, his blue eyes speculative over her response. "Maybe I /do/ want to know, ma'am. Perhaps over wine, sometime." He's plying it on, his words smooth. Once she stands to her feet though, then so does he with his hat in his hands. The tossed Eastern knot gets caught deftly, the farmer nodding to her his thanks.When she saunters towards him and skirts at the last moment, Lo chuckles low at the move - more amused by it than anything else. "You're welcome to try, ma'am," he tosses the words back to her keeping an eye on him, finally stepping away from the chair and matching her lazy smile as he drops his hat back on his head. Of course, arrogant that he is, he's taking her words just as that by the wink he gives her. Or, at least that what he wants her to think. "Anything else, ma'am?" he levels at her then, moving towards the entranceway with a glance over his shoulder.

Laughter low and rich spills out to his smooth words of talk over wine, “We’ll see.” A last sweeping glance about her office to ensure everything is in order. To keeping an eye on him, “Oh, I’ll do more than try, darlin’,” her hand moving upward in such a manner that he might be forgiven that the headwoman’s about to pat a condescending touch to his cheek. Instead it moves on up to the brim of her hat adjusting the brim slightly and then she’s moving toward the doorway too, halting just near Lo to put slow toe to head look over him, “I think we’re all good…for now.” Letting him think she’s falling for his ruse. But then she’s probably been playing this game for longer than he’s been alive. With that Indira steps passed the farmer waiting for him to do the same before closing her office door. Once he’s done so, she’ll lift a long chain from around her neck, inserting the key that had been nestled in cleavage, into the lock and turn it.

Lo accepts that initial answer from Indira for now, the nod a sweeping one before her next gets him to pause only briefly. It's brief, but his smile slips in that half-second when she notes that she'll do more than try to keep an eye on the young man. His look is lingering on her as her hand lifts, not moving from his position until her hand continues on to her hat. His smile is back in place by this point, and he lets low laughter spill free once their brief meeting was concluded. He turns and makes his exit, tipping his hat to her as he passes her by. "For now, then," the farmer concedes to that, his eyes dipping to where that key had vanished without any apology before he tips his hat to her again and is gone with laughter heard in his wake.



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