Magdaline, Vosji


Why just talk when you can clean?


It is midmorning of the seventh day of the eighth month of the fourteenth turn of the 12th pass.


Igen Weyr - Alcove

OOC Date 29 Jul 2018 05:00



Famous last words indeed!



It's what the name would suggest, a recess in one of the hallway just outside of the candidate barracks. A bench has been fitted snuggly into the space, with a thin, worn cushion covering the wood. It's a cozy and a nice place to stop and watch foot traffic during the busy times of the day. It has a glow basket on either side, providing sufficient light.

Normally, this early in the day this particular little corridor would be rather quiet, but where's the fun in normal? Even well before noon, it's still way too hot to be doing anything outside in Igen today and so Magdaline currently has a couple of drudges and weyrbrats armed with a plethora of buckets, mops and other scrubbers working on making sure this hallway is squeaky clean. And she's not just supervising. Currently, she's pulled out a bench from an alcove and is on her hands and knees behind it scrubbing at those seldom seen corners with a vengeance.

Quiet was what Vosji was expecting, though she doesn't seem deterred when she takes a step into a side corner of the Weyr's tunnels and finds that emphatic cleaning seems to be going on. Cleaning that includes highly-ranked parties (with, as she recalls, good taste in shoes) getting right into it. If she'd been planning to stop and sit there and do nothing, that plan may have been reversed; however, if the Weyrlingmaster was going somewhere, she now is not doing that either. Instead she stops in her tracks and just watches for a moment before quipping, "I wish I had this crew cleaning the couches up in that week before a Hatching."

The sound of someone talking (and not accompanied with the preteen giggling that comes from some of her current 'helpers') has Magdaline's head popping up from her corner. Vosji is definitely recognized and so the assistant gets up from that spot, slowly and with a little bit of help from the bench. "I'd say you could borrow them, but at that point, we should have plenty of candidates for you to choose from for your cleaning crew. And they should be extra motivated with the possiblity that said couch might end up being their own." Magdaline is totally willing to share her work force, as temporary as some of them might be.

"Candidates are never as good at domestic work as one wants them to be." Vosji may have started to say 'you,' but it's possible that for Magdaline, they are. The assistant headwoman might have the skills required to persuade them to do the best work. "Often they're trying to spite other members of the class they don't like, or — and I get this one a lot, 'I'll clean it when I have to live in it.' No, it has to be clean for the dragons who aren't going to wipe down dusty spots themselves, but especially those who are standing for the first time don't really understand. This looks like a lot of real dedication to getting the area clean." A beat, a glance to the side and back to Magdaline: "Why is this corner getting so nicely cleaned? Did it do something special?"

It may be only the simple fact that Magdaline is here and not off doing anything else that has kept the under-age cleaning crew from breaking out into a full scale soapy splash war. Although there's still that one kid that is scrubbing, but hasn't moved on from the same spot he's been scrubbing for the past ten minutes. At least the spot is clean. She'll at least nod in agreement about candidates never being as good as one might want. "I'll keep an eye out on the next batch. There's always a handful that will at least try at their chores." So Vosji can get the cream of the crop when it comes to barracks scrubbing. As for this corner, the woman shrugs. "I'm not sure a corner can do much of anything, but somehow it kept being missed on regular cleanings. This morning I found a dustbunny this big!" Her finger and thumb are held a couple inches apart for demonstration.

The disapproving nose wrinkle from Vosji is definitely for the dust bunny. That's just gross, and she'll say so in expression alone; not too much dwelling. And at least soapy splash wars, if they break out, make cleaning fun and productive. "Most of the ones who deign to spend time around me deliberately are far more interested in doing things related to riding and then can't stand hearing me say that yes, folding linens is absolutely related to riding. It's along the same lines as 'well we don't have dragons now, why can't we have alcohol until we do'?"

Magdaline clearly totally agrees with dust bunnies being gross. That's why she's brought the wrath of at least ten sponges upon this little corner of the weyr for a bit of dust bunny extermination. Since she's now standing, Magdaline's eyes narrow a bit, not at the words Vosji's saying, but at that kid a few feet behind her. "Vatero. You can only scrub the same spot so many times," And she waves one of her hands as if to push him on just a few feet further, which works, before turning attention back to the weyrlingmaster. "Yes. Some folks don't seem to understand that life requires doing things we'd rather not do at times, especially the life of a rider. But they are just children after all," She means the candidates. Even the oldest at twenty five. All children.

At thirty-six, maybe Vosji is also a child. She definitely was when she was a candidate! "That spot," the Weyrlingmaster whispers to Magdaline in a conspiratory tone, "is now the cleanest spot in all of Igen." Clearly someone has not gotten enough sleep; unusual when there isn't a newly-hatched weyrling group, but maybe she's just starting to go insane without having any charges. More seriously: "The drinking and sex tends to get the most complaint, like they don't need an adjustment time for that and can snap their fingers and be perfectly sober and celibate as riders when not as candidates. Secondary, though, is always keeping clutter straight. Why does neatness matter?"

It's certainly possible that Magdaline thinks of several thirty-six turn olds as children. The weyrlingmaster is usually not among those numbers as well. Magdaline nods along before returning her own whisper, "He's not the brightest lad. Thorough, but not the brightest." Alas, not everybody was born with the brains to be a smith or a harper. And then a bit of an eyeroll for those complaints she's also heard way too often when dealing with candidates. "Nevermind that a rider's life depends on attention to detail Between, threadfall, their riding straps…" She could count off more, surely, but those three are definitely the highlights.

"Thorough means a lot when it comes to cleaning things. The best drudges are the ones who properly take orders." The real best drudges are the ones who take orders and then extrapolate intelligently from them, but … details. Ones Vosji, whose life took an interesting trajectory, never really learned because she doesn't have experience with drudges. "Not paying close attention to detail usually means dying, but candidates often don't care. I usually don't even know why a third of them accepted Search, if they're going to complain so much about rules — and yet, here I am missing having a gaggle to deal with nonetheless."

At least Magdaline can only have herself to blame if those second best drudges can't extrapolate and her orders weren't specific enough and so she'll nod in agreement yet again. "He's also a sweetheart." He may be her favorite. Don't tell the other drudges. As for why half the candidates accept search if they'll complain, she shrugs. "Teenagers don't often make the best decisions." Spoken as the mother of several. At least one of who did survive candidacy and still surviving as a rider back at Fort. "But they all have their reasons. For the Weyrbred, all their friends are Standing. They wouldn't want to be left out."

"Mm, that was me," Vosji agrees, giving small but fond smiles toward the dedicated workers as they keep making the space genuinely clean. "Though I didn't really have friends, I did have family insisting I had to stand." Who would have wanted to be friends with the Weyrleader's thirteen turn old brat anyway, or any of his five other children? "I also really, really didn't want to be a goldrider so my family wasn't too pleased. Part of me wishes dragons accepted older candidates anyway — I don't like dealing with any as young as I was. And we have to keep them with the weyrlings a long time if they Impress at fourteen …"

"Me as well," Magdaline will admit for her own reasons for standing many turns ago, although her own outcome was clearly different. "Three times I Stood. Each time I was left standing, I said I wouldn't again, but…" She shrugs her shoulders helplessly. What can you say when someone offers you that possibility? "And I can see why one wouldn't want to be a goldrider," seeing as how she works with them on a daily basis! "And older definitely seems better. Although I still see some counting down the days 'til their fifteenth turnday," There's a glance back towards poor Vatero. Someone might not be that bright, but he's got BIG dreams.

And really? You don't need to be that smart to be a dragonrider. Being in the wings is a big dream and a big sense of importance but it requires more physical competency than it does intelligence. "Fifteen's at least a lot better than twelve. Any of this group," Vosji looks at the assembled brats herself, "Look like they at least have the focus for the job. Better than many, without any hoity-toity commentary about who they were and where they came from." She'd much rather have drudges and weyrbrats as candidates than Journeymen. It's supposed to be an equalizing experience, but. Teenagers.

"Aye, that," Magdaline will quickly agree. "Three turns can make a world of difference. And three more?" Her face says just how much she'd prefer to see twenty turn old riders than teenage-riders. "And I'm sure you'll have some of this crew come one of your future clutches." For some of the brats, maybe a FAR future clutch. One of the girls is definitely ten. "But look at me, keeping you standing in the middle of the hall. If you're careful, I think they left a dry path through the middle if you need to be going…" It's a dry, very windy path. Splotchy in some areas, but it mostly exists.

"Or," impulsively, maybe, but as soon as the suggestion crosses Vosji's mind she isn't about to shake it, "I could stay and help finish up." She's wearing clothes that can tolerate it, not in fancy leathers or anything, and remembered to wear shoes this time, so … "If you need another pair of hands. Or have space for one. I really am bored." Famous last words.

Famous last words indeed! Magdaline isn't one to let an offer of help go unclaimed. A spare sponge is easy enough to find and any further chatting will need to happen inbetween scrubbing!

Add a New Comment