A Job

Xanadu Weyr - O'ric's Cottage
If this fairly plain cottage were lacking in one thing, that would be furniture. If there was something it was overflowing with, that would be clutter. Almost every inch of floor, and the few pieces of actual furniture, are covered in plates, cups, writing things, and discarded clothes in various states of cleanliness. Against one wall of the bedroom is a large trunk fitted with a sturdy looking padlock, this appears to be the only part of the cottage without junk tossed at it.

When one's mother is the Weyrwoman, one tends to get send out on errands, even if you don't want to be. Particularly when you happen to be otherwise completely idle as you have no craft, no dragon, and no particularly useful skills other than making a fuss. Today, Nicca has been sent after a particular brownrider who is known to waffle between being on her mother's good side or bad side depending on the day, and with a soft sigh, she's tapping on the door. But, being Nicca, rather than waiting for an answer, she's simply pushing it open. Manners? What?

O'ric's door has a habit of sticking open, which could be a good thing or a bad thing depending on the time of day. Today it is a good thing, for at least he's found fully dressed. perhaps somewhat more debatable is the acceptability of his cottage and the clutter within. O'ric, despite the warnings of the brown outside, is curled up in the one habitable chair in the main room, writing something. As there's a knock ont he door he looks up, slightly worried, eyes wide as he stares at Nicca.

Nicca rolls her eyes as her gaze sweeps over the cottage, shaking her head and sighing softly. "Best never let mother see your office space like that." She offers without preamble, even as she's cutting her way across the room to where he's settled. "Move.." She says a bit firmly, sliding down onto the arm rest of the chair even as she does so, ready to slide into the spot if its vacated, or to make it awkward if its not. "Mother wants to know if you're working.." And that, really would be the cue for peering at the writings to try and judge for herself, leaning as she does so.

"I don't have an office." O'ric replies, not quite moving quickly enough for things to be anything other than panicked. The glimpse Nicca would have received of the papers does hint that he was working on something, various references to Ista and Fort being most obvious though there is a menation of one of Xanadu's more infamous bronzeriders. "Wo…working?" He extracates himself from the seat as quickly as is possible without seeing rude, but there's definite uneasiness there. "Um… What does your mother want?" The tone would hint he's not entirely sure who 'mother' is.

Nicca smirks as she settles herself into the vacated seat, entirely unfussed by his panicked reaction or his hurried movement as she settles herself rather primly, folding one leg over the other, resting her hands on her knees as she just looks up at him with a shocked stare. "The Newes, of course." Nicca says matter-of-factly. "You must have been working on it.. You've certainly not been -cleaning-."

O'ric tries his best to kick a few bits of clothing under the furniture, a very late be desperate attempt at doing something. "Wasn't expecting people." It's as good of an explanation as Nicca can expect. "The Newes?" it takes a moment for him to put two an two together and not come up with twelve. "It's coming alone, only people are a bit… resistant. Don't want to talk now it's all official and stuff."

Nicca continues to survey O'ric's cottage, looking over the rather cluttered space as a queen might look over her hall, sticking her nose up in the air just a little. "You should always expect people. At least it was me. Imagine if it had been the Weyrwoman." And extra emphasis is put on the word to indicate exactly who she means. "Then make them talk. There are ways… Or are you afraid?" Nicca's gaze lingers on him, slowly pushing herself to her feet to close the distance with him once again.

O'ric blinks at Nicaa for a moment, "She would probably knock and wait?" There's a little of a challenge in his tone, after all this isn't Niva, but at the same time he does try vaguely to kick another pair of trousers under a chair. "I'm doing fine, thank you. Unless you want a job?" There's very little time for a reply before he finishes, "Thought not."

"You clearly don't know her well enough yet. Just wait, you will. She never waits, and she rarely knocks." Nicca says, hands going to her hips, glaring up at him a little. "Are you? You just said it was more difficult, so clearly you need help." And the challenge in his tone only urges her to step closer, trying to avoid his personal space as she glares up at him.

O'ric contemplates, for a second, putting a hand out to stop her getting too close, but then thinks where that might land his hand and rethinks, instead taking step backwarsd. "Yeah will then she could be offended cause my space is my space." False bravado is false, the tone certainly not backing up the words. "Difficult doesn't mean impossible. Or /Do/ you want a job?"

Nicca arches an eyebrow as he lifts a hand, but then he's backing up and she's just stepping after him. "Maybe I do. Maybe she sent me to make sure -you- get your work done, so I'm stuck chasing you around anyway." A distasteful little 'hmph', and her arms cross infront of her as continues to look up at him.

"I'd work better if you weren't here." Here as in the immediate vacinity, or here as int eh cottage isn't clarified. Instead O'ric continues, "If you'r really wanting a job I could drop you off at Fort to watch the games? Or… come with you and we can watch together or something until you get some good gossip."

"I only just now got here, and it didn't seem like you were working too well before, so I'm not sure how it could be any worse if I stay here." Nicca snaps quickly back, and then gives him a look of shock. "You can't just -leave- me there. By myself. I mean, can you imagine the whispers if I was there -alone-?" And from her reaction, its clear that its Nicca's own reputation that worries her more than anything else.

"If you were there /alone/ you'd probably find out things I couldn't." O'ric counters, not entirely understanding her worry, "Just flash some thigh or something and you'd have them falling over themselves to tell you thing." With a blink he quickly adds, "Or not. Not is good, don't want your motehr getting upset or anything adn shells don't tel lher I suggestedthatitwasonlyajoke." Somewhere he foregets about spaces.

"I doubt it.. All the cute guys will have those stupid girls hanging all over them, and -they- won't talk to me if I'm alone.. they'll just think they're better than me. And then the only gossip will be about -me-. Which.. No." She huffs a little bit and then smirks at his suggestion, inching a little closer. "What, like this?" She teases him, tugging up the side of her skirt, even as he awkwardly backpedals.

Panic. Pure, unadulterated, panic. "Something like that. Only not on eme cause it doesn't work and your mother will kill me. Save it for Fort, I'll take you over for the games if you really want and see what you can find out. Got to be something happens then. Games aren't all physical competition."

"Maybe." She states simply in reference to the games at Fort, her eyes glued on him as he begins to panic, trying to keep a straight face. "You wouldn't have that look on your face if it didn't work.." She counters softly, smirking as she gives the other side of her skirt a swish. Torture.

"Believe me, your mother scares me more than anything you could possibly do." O'ric can think of a few things that would beat the mother scare, but at the moment he's clearly trying to not think of anything at all. "So… Fort? We on then?"

"We're on.. I'll make sure to wear something special, just for you." And it seems that Nicca is enjoying the game of making O'ric panic, for while her skirt is allowed to fall back to its normal length, her hands aren't returning to her hips, instead one hand is moving to rest on his chest. "But you need to be together.. Can't have them think you don't -actually- like me. Not that you can do anything but like me."

O'ric blinks several times, "Why wouldn't I like you? Not like you're your sister." And the second it's out he regrets it, wincing immediately and reacvhing for her hand to remove it from his chest, "I'll… um… call for you when I'm heading over again. I knock."

"No, I'm not my sister. -I- have better taste." Nicca quips with a smirk, chuckling as he removes her hand, shaking her head a little. "Now don't forget. Or I'll make sure mother knows you aren't working.." She says with a smirk, lingering for one more moment before she's tapping his face with her hand and turning to depart without a backwards look, sashaying as she goes, pulling the door shut behind her.

"But I /was/ working!" O'ric's protestation falls on deaf ears, or rather closed door, and is quickly followed by a bout of swearing that her visit prhaps does not entirely warrant. Needless to say that night he would have very pleasant dreams indeed, though that might serve to make their next meeting all the more awkward.

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