Drexia Locke
They're all dead...
Drexia tries her best not to laugh or show any outward sign that it was weird to her that this Jesi was calling her 'my dear' like she was a small child and he was well into his seventies. She offers him a smile and is about to wipe her dirty hand on her pants... when she realizes she's still in those white modesty bands and not her normal attire. Well frack. She wipes it on the band around her pelvis before offering to her. "My apologies for being rude but I hadn't said. It's Drexia. Drexia Locke. I'm not sure I caught yours either." She says as she waits for him to shake her hand or not.
After a few minutes she would withdraw her hand whether he shook it or not and look around. "I should probably see if there's any other repairs I can make that will prolong our survival until help arrives. You're welcome to help if you want and if not I work fine on my own, so don't worry." She smiles so he knows she harbors no ill will before her eyes scan around the room to see what can be done, deciding that getting dressed could probably wait.
After a few minutes she would withdraw her hand whether he shook it or not and look around. "I should probably see if there's any other repairs I can make that will prolong our survival until help arrives. You're welcome to help if you want and if not I work fine on my own, so don't worry." She smiles so he knows she harbors no ill will before her eyes scan around the room to see what can be done, deciding that getting dressed could probably wait.
