Delilah splashed her mop onto the floor of the university kitchen, sweeping it back and forth in a jerky effort to clean up. She had gotten marginally better after her little escapade with Moira, but it was still painfully obvious the child had not been born to a life of servitude. Moving backwards as she went, the little redhead left a sopping wet puddle as she mopped, occasionally plopping the mop back in to the bucket when it began to dry out.

Theoretically, it should have worked. Water, plus soap and mop, usually equal cleaner, but Delilah was unable to combine the three to make clean. So far she had turned dirt into mud and she'd smeared ink across the matron's desk when she tried to wipe it up. As a galdor she had been cute and sweet, as a passive she was just clumsy. Someone had told her in their small shared dorm that she was being called a 'walking disaster' by the older passives.

Pouting as she puddled the floor, the youngster daydreamed of home. Of cuddles and pretty things, of sweets and Chastity. She hadn't seen her sister yet, didn't even know where to look. It made her heart heavy. If anyone could take her home, it was Chastity. Unaware of her surroundings, the child continued on.

Up baking since dawn, by afternoon Aurelie was not at the peak of alertness. One might go so far as to say that she could barely put one foot in front of the other properly, let alone spare any mental faculties for anything else. She went through her work on automatic, letting muscle memory take over where cognitive functions failed.

Perhaps this was the reason that she failed to take note of the relative slickness of the floor compared to the usual. Perhaps it was even the reason that, laden as she was with heavy dishes to be washed, the thin soles of her shoes found no purchase on the wet, soapy floor, and she went sliding across the kitchen before losing her balance entirely and falling over backwards. Dishes flew through the air and met the ground with a sound like a thunderclap.

Her own head hit sharp-smack against the cold stone, and she cried out. A bit dazed from her fall, for a long, long moment Aurelie lay unmoving while the other passives cried out in dismay-- though for her broken skull or the broken dishes on the floor, she really could not have said.

Oh, I am in so much trouble for this...

Automatically, Delilah shrieked as the dishes crashed to the floor, gripping her mop tightly and eyes going wide. She stared at the passive on the ground for a tense five seconds, before bursting into loud wailing tears.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" She bawled, dropping the mop with a wet clatter and looking guiltily from Aura to the other passives, and back again. They were going to yell at her, and they would be mean, and then she would be in trouble and they would smack her bottom again. Panicked, the young girl moved to start picking up the shattered pieces of dinnerware, using her apron as a makeshift basket.

"I'll fix it! I'll pick them up and I'll put them in the bin..." Delilah sobbed trying to make things right.

Through her daze, Aura peered up at the sobbing girl picking up shards of dishes off of the floor. Poor girl. Aurelie always was too soft on children, and this was no exception.

"N-no, I'm fine." She sat up, biting back a wince. "See?" The pain was still sharp in her head, so she tried to hold it relatively still as she gathered up pieces in her vicinity. It wouldn't do to make a little girl clean this all up by herself, would it? Best as she could, she smiled at the little girl. She couldn't be more than ten or eleven-- brand-new, unused to being here still. Poor little bird.

"Let me help you. What's your name?"

Delilah looked up at the girl as she began to help her, sniffing loudly and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She looked alright, no blood.

"Delilah Pembridge, ma'am." The young girl said as politely as she could, pouting as she continued to pick up the shards. There were so many little pieces! Looking up at the other passive again, she sniffed.

"I'm not good at mopping, but they keep telling me to do it. I think its the only thing I can't break." Delilah said feebley, looking at the broken dishes again, bottom lip trembling. Even if she couldn't break mopping, she could still cause havok. What would the matron say? Standing up carefully, holding her apron to keep the shards in, she looked around, unsure what to do next.

She smiled, though she felt a little sick to her stomach. It would pass, she thought. It had just been a little tumble, after all. The girl was more important.

"Well, Delilah, everyone must start somewhere. You'll get better with practice, I'm sure of it." She meant it to sound encouraging, though to her own ears it was more like a grim proclamation of a life of servitude. Aurelie was doubtful that a child Delilah's age would think of it in such terms, but she couldn't help thinking that way herself. With some jostling of elbows and careful scramble from the floor, Aurelie managed to come to a standing position.

"Now," she said, tucking the shards carefully into her apron, "we will start by throwing these away, hmm?" Harriet, a short, thick woman of middle age gestured to Aurelie that she would keep up with her work while Aura helped the little girl. Harriet, it was said, had managed to avoid being gated for longer than most-- long enough to have a human husband and child, before her diablerie went off and she was arrested. She, too, was more gentle than was strictly advisable with the children. Aurelie was grateful for the assistance-- much as she wanted to cheer up little Delilah, it could not be argued that she wouldn't be neglecting her own work in the process.