Who

Vosji, Magdaline

What

Eyes spy a weyrlingmaster talking to herself. Since the drudges can't do anything about that… Magdaline steps in.

When

It is sunset of the nineteenth day of the second month of the twelfth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Igen Weyr - Kitchen Courtyard

OOC Date 06 Oct 2017 05:00

 

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Really, I would just talk to myself but I already know my own opinions. He occasionally does something.


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Kitchen Courtyard

The domestic space of the kitchen courtyard is small, dusty, slightly over-grown, and practical. The focal point of the stone courtyard is a large well found directly in the middle. Turns have worn the once angled bricks to soft, crumbling curves about the lip, and a bucket always slightly damp is tied, secure, and ready to use at the side. Though a broom has swept here since last you passed through, it would appear the wind-borne dust has merely been heaped under the cobble-cracking shrubs of a stubborn environment that grow ever upward. A few benches are scattered around, but the feel is not comfort, for this small slice of sky and wind are saved for a kitchen staff always on the move.

It is the forty-ninth day of Winter and 40 degrees. It is a bright, sunny day.


Igen would consider this weather cold, and the kitchen courtyard is often anything but the pinnacle of comfort, so who would be eating an early dinner out here rather than somewhere nicer, like the Living Caverns or one's own office? Vosji, apparently: the Weyrlingmaster is alone but for a sleeping scarred bronze firelizard sharing her bench. It's possible she isn't even supposed to be out here in the first place, but there's been no complaints so far. So: Vosji, and her scraps-of-everything sandwich, and her firelizard. He's asleep and completely ignoring her, but that hasn't stopped her from talking: "And yes, it does still hurt. I definitely need to replace these things. I appreciate your lack of judgment, there, buddy: not making snorting noises and trying to steal my food means you're in complete agreement."

It's not like the weyrlingmaster can go anywhere and completely escape the prying eyes of the Weyr. In this case, some drudges fetching water noticed Vosji over on the bench apparently talking to herself. Now, the pair didn't say anything to the woman themselves, but they did put a word in an ear. Specifically Magdaline's ear and so the assistant headwoman comes poking her head out of the nice warm kitchens. She's got a big enough coat on that the Igen winter's not going to much of a bother as she sticks her hands in those nice, big pockets. Click-click-click go her heels across the cobblestone as the small woman comes to a stop about ten feet away. "You know… talking to a sleeping lizard is just a hair away from talking to yourself." Just a hair. She even takes out one hand to demonstrate how little.

With no weyrlings about, Vosji tends to think she's much more of a shadow than she actually is. Technically still important, but able to exist in her own little world of … talking to herself under the guise of talking to a firelizard. "My dragon didn't feel like listening," she says politely enough, amusement around the edges of her half-smile, "So it seemed like he was the next best thing. Really, I would just talk to myself but I already know my own opinions. He occasionally does something." She pokes Rias gently; the bronze snorts, and then takes a swipe at her sandwich after all.

Magdaline tilts her head as she watches the seemingly sleeping firelizard suddenly take a swipe towards the sandwich. It was apparently all a RUSE!!! which gets a small snort from the older woman. If someone can somehow make a snort seemed ladylike, it'd be Mags. "He does seem full of surprises. But your dragon and your firelizard aren't the only two you can talk to, surely?" An eyebrow raises with that question.

"At the moment? Pretty much, except for my other firelizards." Vosji's grin isn't as self-deprecating as it might be, though. She's gotten used to the sort of loner way of life she's accidentally cultivating between clutches. "The greenrider I would normally ramble at is doing something involving crowds and dancing and things that don't suit me as much." It's the whole TALL AND AWKWARD thing, combined with how Vosji secretly hates both dancing and parties.

And while she may no longer have full on curious, Magdaline still doesn't seem completely convinced that this is something anybody should be okay with. Ignore the fact that she's still pretty knew around Igen and pretty much speaks to folks about work or talks with her children after work. She talks. And right now, the tiny woman is just going to claim a spot on the bench not occupied by firelizard or other woman. No permission being asked. She's an assistant headwoman. It's practically her courtyard. "The greenrider? Do you choose to only speak to one rider of each color? That seems pretty eccentric."

Vosji is laughing, now, at least; an easy, sociable laugh because she really can settle in easily with just about anyone, she's more having the issue where few people will easily settle in with her. Rias the firelizard is just going to attempt to climb partway onto Magdaline's lap and see if he can continue to pry scritches from people when he isn't stealing sandwich corners. "No. What an amusing mental image, though — Just, she's one of a few friends in the area, and she's gone to go have her kind of fun." Vosji has ever watched Miel perform, but for now she's sticking to watching people pull water from wells, instead. "Didn't feel like going all the way to Ista," where she keeps most of those other riders of other colors, "to complain about boots."

At least it's an easy, normal sounding laugh. If it was one of those borderline manic laughs, Magdaline might have had to send someone off to fetch for one of the mindhealers and wouldn't that have been something. As it is, she's perfectly content to perch on the bench even if she isn't exactly relaxing. Too much of the Fort decorum drilled in to her to abandon proper posture and adopt anything as relaxed as a slouch. "Good." She does smile a little though. "It would be a rather silly system for determining friends. And such a limited number." And then all eyes are back on the weyrlingmaster at the mention of boot complaints, even if her hand is reaching out to scritch Rias. "Oh? It is just three heartbeats away or so I hear… but what complaints do you have about boots?" She actually looks intrigued at this possible topic. Boots are something she can fix.

They are pretty terrible boots. The ones on Vosji's feet, specifically: her riding boots, which contrary to her nice warm jacket and attractive pants are — old, wearing in areas, and if they had any sense of design and style to them it's definitely gone now. One would assume she got paid better than to leave them like that, but shopping is a drag, okay? Rias is polite and doesn't even sneeze in Magdaline's hand as he happily noses her fingertips and makes polite chirruping sounds. "Oh, well, you're his favorite now," the clearly not insane bluerider says calmly. "These boots are just spectacularly old, and need to be replaced, which is always more complex than I'd like it to be. Odd-sized feet, usually requires custom work. That sort of blather. I had been ignoring it until the heel slipped on me."

Magdaline tut-tuts as the true state of Vosji's boots, and her reasoning behind letting the situation evolve so. Completely unacceptable. "You're supposed to set a good example for our young riders, Weyrlingmaster. Proper foot care is something that can't be ignored." There's an imperious finger pointing at the guilty boot. "You should see a cobbler first thing tomorrow. And don't ignore them too long in the future. What if the heel had slipped out on you when you were trying to give a very serious lesson, hmm?" If she were standing, Mags would probably have some full hand on hips action going on. As it is, at least one of her hands is currently occupied by earning the firelizard's good opinion.

"Ah, you must spend some time around the physical therapists, ma'am." The ones Vosji is often trying to … completely evade interacting with. There's some older Healer who always has something to say about the quirk of her neck and the rotation of one of her shoulders. "It would've been a great teaching moment for junior weyrlings. Step one: do not be me. Step two: let us all go examine boots together. I keep trying to figure out who the best person is to bug, that's my problem. Too much quality review. Which cobblers, which tanners, who does the best work — and I don't even like shopping." The bronze is liking everything about this moment, though. Vosji can do dumb things and get Magdaline's attention anytime.

"Of course. They have a lot to say about how to keep the Weyr healthy after all," Magdaline nods seriously at this. And it's more than likely there will be a few of those older physical therapists that she will start to come to avoid in time as well, considering there's only so much they can do to improve the health of everybody through diets. Some people just won't eat the mushrooms, okay? No matter how tasty the caverns staff might try to make them. "I'm not sure about in Igen yet… but if you want the name of a good one in Fort…" the offer is just going to hang. But look at Magdaline's impeccable shod and tiny, tiny feet. She definitely knows a thing or two about shoes.

To some people, shoes are very important, both as function and as fashion statements. Vosji is one of those people who tries not to wear them whenever she can get away with it, but she does know there are others that see shoes as crucial in many ways other than safety. "I would certainly be happy to take one, even if traveling just to shop for shoes is — unusual. I do suppose I've got the time, hm? And your footwear looks well put-together," as does everything else about her, but Vosji is not going to just say that, "so that speaks highly of who you may recommend, ma'am."

Function is definitely important, but clearly Magdaline isn't willing to sacrifice form completely. Sure, she could have safer shoes. Or more ergonomic shoes. But she has the shoes that are just perfect for her. "I can definitely give you a recommendation." And sorry Rias, the scritching will come to a very sudden stop as she's going to whip out a small notebook and a charcoal stick from her pocket. You never know when you might need to take down notes, or in this case, jot down some instructions. The handwriting is as orderly as everything else about the assistant and she quickly hands it over to Vosji. "Just follow those instructions and ask for Maferak." The name is written on there as well, but pronunciation to go along with it never hurts.

Rias sits up higher on his haunches and makes a dissatisfied but curious sound: the scritching stopped unpleasantly, but now there is motion and he is a nosy little guy. Vosji just gently pushes his nose away from the note Magdaline hands her. "I am trying to read this, sir," she says with a shake of her head, and Rias backs off. At least he's well trained. "Maferak," she repeats, being sure of the pronunciation — never offend an artist with a slip like their name wrong — and nodding. "It's much appreciated. If there's anything I can do to return the favor, I'm happy to, though I doubt you're terribly concerned about where to get the best saddle bags or how to avoid fish peddlers in the bazaar."

Magdaline is definitely not going to be giving more scritches at the dissatisfied sound. One thing she's sure of, you don't give in to beggars. It's like negotiating with terrorists. It never works out for you. She does nod at the pronunciation, apparently no correction needed. "You're welcome. And I'm sure we'll have some mutual concerns before too long." You know, once one of the golds decides to get of her pretty, pretty butt and give the Weyr it's next crop of dragon babies. Then comes all the candidate fun times! But apparently Magdaline is convinced her work is done here so she'll stand up. There's another nod towards the weyrlingmaster. "And if you ever find yourself in need of clothing advice, I'm sure you can find me." And with that, she's off again.

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