Who

I'dre, Magdaline

What

Weyrling and assistant headwoman meet in a near vacant kitchens and have a not so pleasant chat.

When

It is sunset of the tenth day of the fifth month of the fifteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Igen Weyr - Kitchens

OOC Date 28 Oct 2018 05:00

 

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Kitchens

For the benefit of the thousands of souls who will feast off the proceeds of this area, chaos and anomie reign supreme in this hub of Igen's food production. The smell of the place is overwhelming, everything from the butcher's offal to fresh-baked bread assaulting one's olfactory sense. This space is large and well-equipped, with hearths aplenty to shoulder the massive undertaking of feeding the desert crowds; internal to the outer edges, several large stoves belch smoke upward through the stacks, to stain the chimney without. A pair of nooks lie in front of the entrance and the exit, a vain attempt to keep questing individuals from entering too fully within the cook's domain.


Dinner hour has long since past and the sun is already setting lower on the horizon, leaving the kitchens an emptier shell of the busy hive it was moments ago. While some workers and drudges linger on to finish preparations for the next day and to clean, there is one who lurks here who doesn't belong. Yet I'dre is left to sulk in his corner because he's not being a bother and those who need to bustle about in here can do so and politely 'ignore' his presence. Whatever is eating the weyrling can be dealt with by the right people and they're content to leave him to it ? so long as he doesn't go mucking things up in here. He sits on a wooden stool, still dressed in his uniform but most of the jacket unfastened so he doesn't overheat from the warmer atmosphere here. Balanced on his lap is a plate of food he'd snatched on his way in here but most of it remains untouched or hopelessly shredded to bits. His gaze is downturned, unfocused as he's lost in his thoughts… or perhaps talking to a link only meant for him and him alone.

Relatively empty though the kitchens might be, there are still a few souls with work to be done. The light of a glow basket and the subtle click-clack of tiny steps herald Magdaline's arrival back into the kitchens from the store rooms below. While some might be inclined to let someone not bothering anybody be and just get about finishing up the rest of their nightly chores, the assistant headwoman seems to home right in on what doesn't belong which is one weyrling in a corner. "Did we run out of the stew again?" Guess one for why someone is here and not in the caverns.

"Huh?" I'dre blinks a few times as he looks up at Magdaline's sudden presence and question directed at him. Eyes narrow as he focuses and then soften a bit as recognition hit. Some form of a salute is jumbled in there, though it takes his brain a little longer to jog into action. "Ah, no…? But if I remember right, that stew is pretty good." Good enough to break into the kitchens searching for it! That's not why he's here, though. Sitting up, he grimaces a bit as he eases out of some stiffness from keeping such an awkward posture so long. Judging from his clothing, he's fresh from drills or lessons and there's a faint smell still clinging to him. Flamethrower practice, maybe? At least… at some point of the day. Casting a glance about the kitchens, his gaze darts back to the assistant Headwoman. "… do you need me to leave?" It's a logical assumption, here.

The jumbled salute is met with a crisp nod as Magdaline stands there with her clipboard clasped in front of her as she gives an almost clinical once over of the weyrling. "We try at least. Because if it wasn't, we'd never hear the end of it." Don't mess with folks food. That's the easiest way to get a riot. As for him leaving, she shakes her head. "There's at least an hour or so left before folks will need to be clearing out completely. So if it wasn't a lack of food out there, what brings you in here?"

I'dre scoffs at that detail on the food situation, not so much mocking as just dryly agreeing with her. Definitely don't mess with good food! Relief colors his expression next, followed by the visible slump of his shoulders… which almost instantly tense up again under her next inquiry. There's just a touch of an embarrassed flush to his skin too, as he looks down at his neglected plate. Anywhere but directly at her. "I, uh… just needed some quiet. Y'know? Away from everyone." Surely it has to be grating on anyone to be cooped up with so many others for so long! But for a former weyrbrat and then potter-merchant living in the Bazaar, crowds shouldn't be an issue!

Magdaline is a tiny lady so even the fact that she's standing just a few feet in front of him won't obscure I'dre's view of all the other places in the kitchen. So many different places to look away! As for the assistant herself, she actually takes a seat of her own on a stool near by, setting that clipboard of her's on the counter and flipping through. While she seems interested enough in the documents, the weyrling is still kept in her peripheral sight. "Hmmm. Quiet. You just so happened to catch us at a lull. This is one of the few hours when the kitchen is ever this quiet." And even then, there's that baker over in the corner kneading away at tomorrow's bread like the yeast has personally offended him or something.

How does she know that this is the perfect way to handle the situation? Her moving away to sit as she does isn't viewed as a threat to I'dre. He mentioned wanting quiet and yet he remains seated and does not shrug off her attempts of idle conversation or answer her questions. Tilting his head a bit, he smirks in faint bemusement. "Call it a knack?" he answers evasively first, before shrugging his shoulders a moment or so later. "… I was a weyrbrat before this." He gestures to himself, indicating his uniform. "You kind of learn the patterns." For mischief or for a variety of reasons! I'dre probably used it for a little bit of everything. That baker was probably noted and envied a bit: he could use 'kneading bread' as an excuse to vent some pent up anger. But that would just bring a slew of questions, wouldn't it? Shaking his head, he focuses back on Magdaline. "Seriously, though. I can go if it's an issue? You don't have to sugar coat it."

One doesn't spend turns as an assistant headwoman without picking up a few knacks of your own and Magdaline has plenty up her sleeves. The desire for quiet is noted and she won't intrude… much. She gives a nod and a little mmm-hmm as he answers, although the information is filed away. "You were a potter, right? Helped with making the dishes for the feast after the tourney?" It's at this point where she looks up and turns back to the weyrling. "The food in the kitchen is for eating. It looks like those were all leftovers from the evening meal anyways. As long as you clean up that dish, the dishwashing drudge's shift ended a while ago, I don't see how it would be a problem, hmmm?"

"Uh.. huh," I'dre is surprised, almost shocked, when Magdaline recalls a few details that very few would know. It's enough to make him look a bit sheepish, as he rubs a hand at the back of his neck. Definitely ruining his bad-boy image here! He clears his throat and smirks, "Yeah. I had a hand in that and threw a few folks off. No one really expected me to have talent for it…" No one expected much of anything from him, given his attitude growing up! It's a safe enough topic to chatter about and while he does rise from his stool, it's only to do exactly as she suggested: he's taking care of the food, saving any bits that can be fed to some critter or another while the rest goes to waste. "I know better than to raid the cellars in plain view of an entire kitchen staff," he remarks dryly, casting her a glance over his shoulder before he works on cleaning the borrowed plate. There's an extended period of silence until he speaks up again and only after the majority of the task is done. "… thanks for not just kicking me back out there."

"Or even the ghost of a kitchen staff?" There's a bit of a mischievous twinkle in Magdaline's eyes even if her mouth only has the barest hint of a smile. "Expectations are almost made to be broken. While most people might not have noticed the new serving ware, it'll be used for many turns to come." Which is a good thing, considering I'dre's not exactly in the position to make any more should it break. At his last, she tilts her head for a moment and then nods. "You're welcome. But are you sure there wasn't anything else you needed besides quiet?"

I'dre chuckles under his breath. "Maybe even then," he answers vaguely to that mischievousness. He's not going to give away his secrets! Compliments will have him nodding in appreciation of them, but he's back to not meeting her gaze. Aww, is someone sheepish again? Returning the borrowed plate, he will exhale heavily as she pushes at him again. It's just a little push, but either he's tired and refusing to admit there's a problem or Mhiruth is leaning his influence on him too. He won't immediately answer her, leaving that to follow the time it takes for him to find an unobstructed place to stand and lean, arms crossed over his chest. "You're starting to sound a little like them," He means his Weyrlingmasters, of course, to judge by the grim cast to his smirk now. "Guess it's obvious, huh? I just… I needed quiet and I needed to get away for a bit. Don't normally have a problem with folk but I'm not," His brows furrow as he mulls over the right word. "Meshing." Teamwork is apparently a weakness of his.

Magdaline doesn't looked alarmed at the sudden accusation, although she does give a nod. "I've spent most my life being one of them." She's not sure who exactly, but assuming just authority figures in general. "Change is hard and you've just been through a great deal of it in just a handful of weeks. And things will keep changing for a while. Some people…" She waves a hand. "Well, some people just take longer to adjust. To mesh."

"And what if we don't? Change, I mean?" I'dre barely skips a beat in tossing back his own reflections. He doesn't seem the least bit assured by her comments; if anything, his frown has only deepened. He won't give her long to reply either, before he's continuing on his thread of conversation. "It's like," he begins, scoffing under his breath. "They expect some miraculous shift, like I can just turn this part of me off for the 'good of my fellow weyrlings'. It doesn't work that way! I've always been temperamental to folks. I don't sugar coat shit." Clearly he's forgotten about his manners and how impolite it is to swear. "If someone's doing something stupid or making idiotic claims, I'm gonna call them on it and I don't care of that makes 'em angry at me." He probably would have good leadership qualities, really… if he wasn't so abrasive and hot headed. Finally he'll lapse silent, his gaze falling sharply to Magdaline as if to challenge her to disagree with him.

Those brown eyes of Magdaline's blink calmly as I'dre goes on his little tirade. She waits patiently until he finishes and then nods. "Well, change is inevitable. You're not the same man you were before you Impressed. Just as you won't be the exact same man six months from now. Hopefully some time between now and then you will learn to work as a team and care about making said team mates angry. After all, your life depends on them. And your dragon's life as well. But if not…" She shrugs. Clearly he isn't the only one that can turn off the sugar coating. "I guess you'll change into a statistic."

I'dre wasn't expecting the bluntness from her! Sure, he's heard this particular spiel frequently enough in the last few days but not quite as open faced… and not from someone who isn't a Weyrlingmaster or rider. She strikes a nerve first about losing Mhiruth, the second being a statistic. A tic forms under one eye and while it's obvious that tell-tale temper of his is on the rise, he keeps it in check. It takes him having to grit his teeth and tension lines his jaw and features but he does it and won't make a fool of himself. "Right." he states, a touch bitter and sullen. "Adapt or die… not really a great set of options, huh?" Don't mind him, he's just going to go back to brooding! Right after he gives her a dagger look. Thanks for the pep talk? "Guess I should be going. Can't avoid the barracks forever…"

Magdaline raises her hands in the age old 'what can you do?' gesture. "It's a fact of life in the Weyr. Even those that adapt, may die. They just stand a better chance of living longer. At least… try, okay?" As stern as she may have been with her blunt little pep talk, she does soften a bit with the last. If there wasn't such a gap between then or if they had known each other better, she may have reached out to pat his shoulder, but as it is, the older woman just clings to her clipboard while watching the brooding weyrling.

"I am trying!" I'dre mutters with no shortage of frustration too genuine to be faked. He really IS trying, which is probably the biggest issue here or the root of it. No one likes to try their best and still fail and that might be the dangerous circle he's trapped in. Who knows? A pat on the shoulder would've been nice but sadly not for this moment. He does, at least, tip his head in a respectful nod, if a little stiff. See? He doesn't hate her or anything. "Clear skies," he mutters as a farewell and almost out of habit before he ducks out of the kitchens. Despite his misgivings on returning to the fold, he can move fast when he wants too.

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