Disgustingly filthy

Writers: Paula, Yvonne
Date Posted: 5th September 2007

Characters: Zelanka, Larstad
Description: Zelanka confronts Larstad over the state of his workroom
Location: Amber Hills Hold
Date: month 5, day 5 of Turn 4

Zelanka swept into the Smith's office without knocking. Her beautiful face had a determined, stern expression. "Larstad!" she called.

"What?!" The Smith leaned back in his chair so that he could see around the stack of books, cogs, wheels, and tools that covered most of the desk he sat at. The rest of his office was the same; there were few surfaces that were uncluttered, and those that were free from loose hides, hammers, tongs, nails, and wood were obviously work spaces and held the remains of projects. Most of them were in various stages of completion; some were in various states of cannibalization to feed their fellow inventions moving parts. He was scowling. "I'm busy. Come back later. And get someone to bring me some klah."

"Forget klah for the moment, this is important. I heard you refused to let a drudge to clean your room. You reduced the poor girl to tears," Zelanka said, looking around her with obvious disapproval.

"I don't need some lack-witted girl making a mess of things," Larstad said, his attention already back on the caliper in his hands. "Don't send anyone else. I'm in the middle of something."

Zelanka actually bared her teeth when she heard that. "This place hasn't been cleaned in ages," she snapped. She wiped her finger along table top and lifted it up. It was covered with something black and greasy. "What is this? It's grime, filth!" She made a disgusted look and wiped her finger clean.

"Then don't put your finger in it."

"That did it," Zelanka said slowly. She was truly angry now. "This place is a disgrace, a shameful spot of filth in otherwise clean Hold. These floors are in desperate need of sweeping," she looked the floor closer. "Make it a thorough scrubbing, with disinfectant. And the windows need to be washed and I don't even dare to think the shelves."

"Then don't." Larstad sat back and suppressed an irritated sigh.
"Zelanka, as much as I appreciate the visit, I really am busy and I have no time for this. Convey my apologies to that drudge. And if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

"So do I and my work is to keep this place orderly. Which this isn't.
I'm sending whole platoon of drudges here to clean it up. Shouldn't take too long," The Headwoman answered and her smile had malice in it. She was already planning in her head who drudges to assign. The bravest ones.

He'd tried to be reasonable and keep his temper, but the woman just did _not_ get it! He carefully set down the calipers and removed the jeweler's lens from his eye before turning in his seat to face the Headwoman. "Don't be absurd. I have no time to oversee a 'platoon' to make sure that they don't make a mess of things. Like it or not, this is _my_ space and I'll sharding well do as I please. When I want a drudge in here, I'll ask for one, and until then your mops and ignorant cleaners are not welcome!"

"Your opinion don't matter," Zelanka replied matter-of-factly. "And my drudges don't need overseeing, they are very good at their work.
_I_ just won't tolerate this kind of dirtiness." When it came to cleanliness, she was obsessed and very, very stubborn. "Hasn't anybody told you that it's wise to stay with good graces with the headwoman?
You've managed to fall into my disfavor, Journeyman Larstad."

"This is my _personal_ work area," Larstad ground out between gritted teeth. "That means when I want your drudges here, I will ask. Until then, I am asking you to respect my privacy, _Headwoman_." He made a mental note to change the locks on his door to something that would resist the master key. Yet another chore, and all because some stubborn woman who didn't know her place thought it was cute to mess about with things she didn't understand. By the Egg, the setbacks that she could produce if she dared defy him... delicate cogs and clockwork wouldn't stand up to the hands of the ignorant.

"It's still part of the Hold which is under my responsibility,"
Zelanka replied flatly. **Couple months of cold klah and over-salted food would probably do the trick,** she planned in her mind. "And if you're so concerned about privacy, why don't you clean it up yourself then? I can show you where to find the cleaning tools," she added with poisonously sweet voice. She really didn't care who cleaned, as long as it got cleaned.

Larstad bit his tongue - it was one thing to take his temper out on a drudge, but another entirely to tear a strip off the Headwoman.
Everyone knew that Benaroy had a soft spot for her. "Are you deaf?
Because I think I've made myself perfectly clear. When I am ready for your 'platoon' of sweeps, I'll send for them. Until then, you scorching keep them clear of my sharding desk and workroom."

"We shall see," Zelanka said ominously.

The Smith snorted and turned back to his work. Tiny cogs, each measured to the nth degree, lay in gleaming brass heaps before him.
He picked up his jeweler's lens and refitted it to his eye, and after a while Zelanka swept out in a huff.

Larstad hid a smile as he refitted the calipers to the cog in his hands. Things were just the way he liked them.

Last updated on the September 8th 2007

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Disgustingly filthy