Viewing Rooms - John Conley / Fanny Price
John didn't seem to harbor any sort of emotion at the moment; in his mind, that's not what these people wanted, they wanted cattle to be used as they deemed fit. Still, he didn't fight it, and pushed to his feet when she asked, the faintest hint of a smirk spreading on his lips at the mention of a man handling himself.
Standing at full height, he looked down at her, raising a brow with the slightest tilt in his head, "Being able to handle myself is probably my greatest attribute, Miss. Not much of a cleaner, even worse as a cook. Don't know what good I can do for you, save for maybe breaking a few necks. I'm really rather good at that."
John didn't know what to make of this woman, she was a bit on the kinder side than others he'd run into. She smelled nice, too, and was quite nice to look at. Though he only allowed his eyes to wander once, before making sure they were locked firmly on her own.