Who | |
What |
Divale 'coincidentally' tracks down Magdaline in the laundry to ask a few questions about the latest Bazaar news. |
When |
It is sunset of the thirteenth day of the fourth month of the twelfth turn of the 12th pass. |
Where |
Igen Weyr - Laundry Rooms |
OOC Date | 24 Oct 2017 05:00 |
If only they could harvest the dryness of their tones, then the laundry drying process would be so much quicker.
Laundry Room
The laundry rooms at Igen are vast, lined with barrels of varying soap concentrations and shades: darks, lights, and colors. However, it seems that some laundresses are less finicky with this rule as a peek into any of them reveals clothes in various states of cleaning are from all shades of life. The room does smell mostly pleasant with the soap, but the laundry sticks are old, worn, and smell rather of mildew. High ceilings echo the gossips of the workers here, and lines of drying laundry criss-cross overhead for when it's too wet or sandy to line-dry outside.
Why oh why would the laundry rooms be of interest to anyone aside from the laundresses and maybe Candidates (when there are some)? Who knows. But on this dreary evening, one brownrider is quietly ghosting along rarely used corridors to make her way here. Maybe Divale has business here? Hardly unlikely. And to judge from her expression, which is currently in the barest displays of displeasure, it's not entirely of her choice. She'll ignore any curious looks sent her way; her dark gaze is scanning for something. Or is it someone?
There's definitely someone who has business here. A whole bundle of it to judge from the giant pile of linens that Magdaline is carrying. It's probably a miracle that she hasn't dropped any considering the stack is nearly half as tall as she is. Could she have commandeered some help with this? Probably. But she didn't. And now she's just going to clickety-clack her way over to the nearest empty laundry tub and just dump them all in there together before turning around to glance at the room. Something is out of place and it doesn't take long for her eyes to settle on Divale. "Evening, Rider. Not looking for any misplaced garments, are you?"
"Not this time." Divale answers smoothly and with less shadow to her tone. Her smirk suggests that previous visits haven't been so pleasant but she's not one of dish on old grievances. Done with marvelling too, on the balancing skills the assistant Headwoman possesses, the brownrider will step a little further into the room but keep her distance. Sorry, she's not here to help! "Evening," she greets. "Is this a poor time to intrude?" Oh, look. Isn't it Magdaline's lucky day? Divale is here for HER! Apparently.
"It's a strange time to intrude…" Because it's dinner time and so who would expect Magdaline to be down here doing laundry instead of trying to make sure R'kyr (among others) eats his mushrooms veggies? "But not a poor time." As long as Divale doesn't mind the woman going on about her task. She's busy filling the previously empty tub with some warm water and lye. A headwoman (assistant or otherwise) requires numerous skills. Balancing, figuratively and literally, always comes in handy along with the ability to carry on a conversation while doing something else. Her eyes might not be on you, but her ear is, Divale.
Divale's mouth quirks into a vague half-smile. Strange is definitely her game! She could be trying to dodge the mushroom laced veggies up in the caverns too. "Good. I'd rather not interrupt anything, ah…" Dry humour, here. "Important." Magdaline can rest easy, as the brownrider isn't up to any trouble. Nothing will go missing, either (of notice). Subtle passes at this sort-of crucial task? Definitely. "Note anything… unusual of late?" she muses and while her tone is passive, it's obvious she is angling for something. Only she's attempting to be "polite" about it, given she's treading close to lines not to be crossed.
You'll never know just where those mushrooms might attack. Think that's a meatball? It is. Somewhat. Also a mushroom-ball. Meatloaf? Nah, that's mushrooms and grated tubers. Magdaline has been doing this for many a turn. She knows all the ways to hide the veggies into something more palatable (mostly) and can always think up a few more. Magdaline catches the brownrider is tiptoeing around something… but she's going to need to be a bit more specific to get any useful information. "Hmmm?" Laundry must go on. That well used mixing stick is grabbed to start turning the sheets about in the harsh, cleaning water. "It's a Weyr. There's always something unusual."
Hey, Divale's not overly critiquing the sneaky additives! She knows a thing or two about adding in a few… unknown ingredients, albeit her motives are not as innocent as Magdaline's would be. A quiet chuckle for the obvious being pointed out and she will quit with the runaround games. Time and place for her crypticness! Now? Is not one of them. "Too true." Allow her to narrow it down. "I'm sure you heard what occurred in the Bazaar?" Gossip travels fast! Several variants are likely circulating by now, but Divale offers no further elaboration. Save to add: "Merely looking for assurances that the kitchens are taking… precautions."
Magdaline nods. Gossip does indeed travel fast and it all finds its way to the kitchen. Or originates there. Magdaline might also have a collection of the various stories she's heard not because she believes them, but out of curiosity to see how exactly the rumor will grow with each telling. It's a hobby of sorts. "I did." There's a slight frown on her face. "Most of the stories aren't adding up." Not that gossip usually adds up. "We've both been to the Tea Room. The Steen women know how to handle food. To blame it on simple food poisoning seems awfully convenient…"
"Do stories ever add up so simply?" Divale muses in her driest of tones, her expression falling to a neutral slate as she continues to observe Magdaline at work; not because of suspicion but merely because it's something to do while her mind processes things. "I wouldn't be so hasty either to say it was the Steens… or any of the Bazaar families behind this. Food poisoning is convenient a reason and most likely. The other reasons…" Her shoulders lift and fall. Far more dark and sinister.
If only they could harvest the dryness of their tones, then the laundry drying process would be so much quicker. Magdaline just lets out a brief nod as she gives the laundry vat in front of her a rather vigorous stirring. "Rarely." Of course, that doesn't stop people from looking for the simplest answer. "It's not the type of thing where a hasty verdict serves anyone well." A shrug from her as well. Those sinister possibilities have occurred to her as well.
Alas, the world is not so simple a place! There's just as brief a nod from Divale as well when Magdaline agrees. Simplest answers are the quickest route but so rarely the right one. "Agreed. Hasty verdicts may be what we're faced with, however." If cooler heads and tempers can't prevail. She's cautious in what she says, as this is not really her business to intrude upon. Her being here is pushing it enough! "So nothing unusual has come through the kitchens?" It's as bold as she'll go, for now.
Unless it comes to apprentices stealing bubbly pies. Then the simplest answer is usually the correct one. And pretty easy to find out when the culprits are caught all blue-tongued and everything. Enough stirring for now. Magdaline sets the much-used laundry stick to the side and turns her back on the laundry being left to soak as she crosses her arms to face towards Divale. "Just the usual round of crazy speculation and rumors about someone's cousin's brother's father-in-law hearing something from a guy who…" She just lets that trail off and rolls her eyes. It's pretty clear what she thinks about those rumors.
Divale just grimaces in actual sympathy for the woman as she recites half that little nougat of the latest gossip. "Nothing useful, then. Just everyday." Nonsense. With a low exhale, the brownrider straightens and dips her head in a small, little nod of respect. "I won't keep you, Magdaline. Thank you, however, for humouring my inquiry." She'll assume too, without having to say it, that if something does occur, that the woman knows the drill on who to report to.
Magdaline finds something out of place on a shelf and goes to make sure that all the containers actually do line up properly. There were a couple that looked like they were just haphazardly thrown up there before someone else left at the end of their shift. "Just every day so far. But any time, rider." And if she does hear anything, word will get back. Maybe not to Divale, but the headwoman and her staff know how to discreetly pass on information if needed to keep the wheels of the Weyr turning.
Divale is one who can appreciate attention to details or, at least, making sure things are where they ought to be. However, her attention is solely on Magdaline and, now that they've reached an end to their odd conversation, she will merely give the barest of smiles. "Enjoy the rest of your evening." she murmurs and promptly turns to disappear back the way she came.