The World of Pern(tm) copyright (c) 1967 by Anne McCaffrey.
The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.
An online session, recorded by permission of the author for the benefit
of members unable to attend.
=======================================================================

December 23, 1998.  PernMUSH.  E'vrin's POV.
--
Your location's current time: 21:37 on day 16, month 7, Turn 25, of
the Tenth Pass. It is a summer evening.
Cast:  E'vrin, Ceria, Trilana, Lirra, Kassima, Aurian.

A visit to Telgar's Hatching Grounds has E'vrin bonding with a new
mother, meeting Candidates, and getting in trouble over a stick.
=======================================================================
Galleries(#382RJM$)
Stretching along the eastern wall of the hatching cavern, these tiers
of seats have enough room for several hundred spectators for
Clutchings and Hatchings. To one side, long shallow steps descend to
the entrance. There is also a railing separating the lowest tier of
seats from the Hatching Sands themselves. Other parts of the galleries
are closed off from the sands by a wall to the north and south. From
here you can reenter the bowl, or head for a quieter area of the
galleries. There is also a pathway down to the sands. Type 'clutch
help' for help with clutch commands.
Contents:
Ceria
Trilana
Lirra
Prismatica
Kassima
--

Ceria grins at Trilana and sits down nearby. She pulls a tunic out of
the basket and begins to stitch, but most of her attention is on the
eggs.

Trilana shakes her head politely at Kassima. "Of course not," she says
cooly, eyes sparkling. "I'm sure you could write lots and lots of
songs." Sorta.

E'vrin clogs up the last steps to the galleries, pauses to mop
carefully at his brow and cheeks, and then pads towards the sound of
voices.

Lirra's mouth quirks in a grin, as she nods at Ceria then looks down
to make faces at her son. "Kassi writes the most...interesting
songs. Fun, too. I'm sure you'd do a fantastic job, Ka-..." She breaks
off as she glances up. "Telgar's duties."

Kassima snorts at Trilana, amused. "Indeed I could. I already have,
actually, though they're nay Harper-fare. G'deve, Ceria--E'vrin!
Heya!" Smile widening, she asks, "Come t'be seeing the eggs? Lirra,
'twill have t'be singing m'newest one for you sometime. About those
underpants."

Trilana blushes softly, peering out at the eggs.

"The eggs, because the stars know I'd never come to see /you,/" E'vrin
returns nicely to Kassima. "Good evening and Igen's regards to
everyone. Am I interrupting a conversation or just an egg-watch?"

Trilana turns her head and bobs it at E'vrin. "Telgar's duties," she
murmurs, getting used to that.

Lirra's brows quirk up at the name, eyes widening with instant
approval. So -this- is E'vrin her expression seems to say as she
glances a warm smile at the other greenrider. "Just an egg-watch and
idle chit-chat, not to mention trying to get the little one to sleep,"
she answers the bronzerider with a smile. "Lirra, green Kaath's. Well
met."

Ceria glances up as E'vrin enters and gives him a polite smile before
turning attention back to mending and the eggs. Well, mostly to the
eggs. She leans over to murmur to Trilana. "Which one's your
favorite?"

Kassima clucks her tongue at Trilana, immediately repentant. Sort
of. "Nay need for the reddening, y'know; how could you know? And
you're right in that 'twould nay be as good a song as any Harper's."
Rolling her eyes towards E'vrin, she retorts, "I suppose stranger
things than that have happened, but the only one that comes t'mind was
the time in the Sixth Pass when it supposedly rained herring. You're
nay interrupting aught; 'twere just speaking of children's stories,
songs, and tubers. Oh! And you've nay met Lirra or Kilt yet, have you?
I know 'twas telling you about them. And that's Trilana, and that
Ceria, both Candidates here."

Trilana gives E'vrin a bit of a wave and then turns to answer
Ceria. "That one," husky alto whispers back, pointing a finger at the
ninth egg Herath laid. "That black one."

"E'vrin, Sharath's rider," the visitor offers broadly, but he takes
note of Trilana and Ceria's conversation and gives them polite
room. No, he'll swoop down to Lirra's other side and peer raptly into
the baby bundle. "Kilt, of course. Congratulations to you and R'ehn,
Lirra. Isn't he /lovely./"

Ceria peers at the indicated egg. "It's very pretty," she says
softly. She gazes out over the eggs, trying to decide on her own
favorite.

Trilana chuckles, leaning over to Ceria. "What about you?"

Kassima quips, with a wink, "I'd call him more bonny than lovely;
lovely is usually reserved for lasslings. Or Femalemen of Pern. But
that's a long story, and he *is* adorable. Note that he has his
father's scary hair."

Ceria inspects the eggs a moment longer before responding. "I think I
like that one," she says, pointing to the egg covered in glittering
silver coils.

Lirra simply sighs at the conversation over her son, and tries
again. "Ivrihn. His name is -Ivrihn-, not kilt. He's not plaid by a
long shot, and yes, he does have his father's hair. And eyes," she
adds with a doting smile downwards along with a sigh. "They just
changed from newborn blue yesterday."

Trilana nods slowly, glancing out at the egg. "Oh, that's a lovely
one," she says enthusiastically, nodding.

E'vrin murmurs an apology, sincere enough, and informs Lirra woefully,
"Kassima is polluting my mind with such talk. I /am/ sorry." He peers
around the mother at the green rider: ha.

Ceria smiles at Trilana. "They're all beautiful," she says. "I think
my favorites change from day to day."

Kassima calls over towards Trilana and Ceria, "And it has a blue in
it, too." Ever the epitome of maturity, she sticks her tongue out at
E'vrin by way of response. "T'me, he's Kilt. 'Tis a lucky name! And I
rather hope 'twill help his father get away from this kilt-phobia he
has."

Trilana chuckles. "Oh, mine too," she agrees, nodding cheerily. "It
does /not/!" she calls back to Kassima. "That black one is a /green/!"
she adds, grinning at Ceria. "We bet."

E'vrin murmurs to Lirra, "We have to indulge her." Double-ha!

Ceria glances over at Kassima. "I've learned to keep my marks away
from her," she says with a grin. "They're much safer with me."

Trilana chuckles. "I know, I know. But... she gave me a lecture on why
gambling is good."

E'vrin throws in, "What did you learn from it?"

Lirra nods up at the bronzerider with a rather mischevous grin of her
own, nodding. "I know. I've rather resigned myself to hearing her call
him that for the rest of his days." Lifting her brows at Kassima, she
gives a slow and appreciative nod. "If it -does- help him get over
fearing kilts, it might just be worth it. He does have wonderful
knees."

Ceria blinks at Trilana. "Care to give me a summary?" she asks,
abandoning all pretense of mending.

E'vrin stays stuck by Lirra. He's found a co-conspirator. And the baby
is awfully adorable, too.

Kassima corrects cheerfully, "Blue again! There's a quite excellent
number of greens in the clutch, but nay in either of those!" Sidling
close enough to give E'vrin's side a poke, she inquires archly, "And
do I make such unreasonable requests, then? See, Lirra, there's a
definite up side t'having a son nicknamed Kilt. He can't claim that
kilts are evil around said son, so his son can probably con him into
wearing one."

Trilana shakes her head. "No," she says with a frown. "It was long and
silly," she says with a sudden grin. Her head is shook fiercely at
Kassima. "GREEN," she says firmly and then turns back to Ceria. "It
was wacky."

E'vrin promptly pokes Kassima back. "Dare I even ask what you're going
to nickname /our/ child?" Then his head swings up to peer at the
Candidates and the eggs. "Green -- hmm."

Ceria laughs. "Wacky?" she asks. "Somehow that seems an apt and
fitting description to such a lecture. As for me, I'll keep my marks
to myself, seeing as I don't have many to spare."

Kassima helpfully elucidates, "She learned that gambling is an
excellent way t'become wealthy, if'n nay so much so as making a fool
of yourself for marks. You've heard the rumors that I have chests full
of marks stored away, right? Well, they're wrong, but people assume
that because I gamble, so it must be common sense that gambling makes
you rich."

Trilana shrugs suddenly and grins at Kassima. "Yes, that was it. But
it was sillier when you said it before," she says indignantly, winking
at Ceria. "Really."

Lirra actually considers this, casting a conspiratorial grin at
E'vrin, sensing a kindred spirit. "Well...maybe so long as it's just
-you- that calls him that, Kassi. Anyone else tries it, and I'd likely
have Kaath sit on them," she vows, then blinks at the gambling
speech. "Oh, dear. Ah."

Kassima laughs, then, batting at the poking finger. "Naught
evil. After all, I don't fear kilts--and *you* don't fear kilts, do
you?"
Kassima asks Lirra, with a nose wrinkled in mock distaste, "Wouldn't
that be horribly messy? You'd be scrubbing Kaath's rump for hours."

E'vrin sits with good-natured resignation through the gambling spiel;
he's mellow and can afford to do so. Besides, he's bonding with
Lirra. "I'm sure she'd find someone else to do it for her, Kassi. And
I have no fear of kilts," he admits, "but I've never been put in a
frightening situation with one, either. Maybe R'ehn was traumatized."

Ceria grins at Kassima's explanation of her lecture. Then her smile is
turned on Trilana. "I've never been very good at gambling," she
admits.

Trilana chuckles. "Me neither. That's why I didn't wanna. But... " she
adds, waggling a hand to show her assimilationist
tendencies. "Couldn't help it."

Lirra uses her fingers to gently wave the baby's fist back and forth,
thus moving the lock of her hair that's he's gripped firmly. "R'ehn's
not traumatized. He's Kassi's pawn. Then again...the three of us were
together the first time he tried on a kilt," she muses, then snickers
at Kassima. "I'll get my sister that's visiting to scrub her down."

"As if 'Kassima' and 'trauma' are mutually exclusive," E'vrin mutters
in Lirra's so-kind ear, while he darts a laughing, daring eye at his
lover.

Ceria laughs. "Kassima can be very persuasive," she admits.

Kassima's eyes light up. Ah-hah; a new prospective kilt victim. "I'll
have t'be buying you one," she suggests, rather sweetly. Uh-oh. "R'ehn
wasn't traumatized. Now, K'nan, him I could understand, what with
Lysseth's kilt-whuffling trick and all--but R'ehn? Go figure. Lirra, I
don't traumatize people simply through m'presence! At least...."
Mull. Consider. "I don't *think*. Hey!" Trying--and failing--to stifle
a grin, she threatens, "I'll traumatize *you*, E'vrin, if'n you aren't
watching it."

Trilana chuckles and peers out at the eggs. "Very," she mutters,
getting caught up in the eggs again.

E'vrin promises, "I'm shaking in my boots; try your worst."

Lirra blinks up at E'vrin, then stifles a laugh and shift the baby to
a more upright position as she supports his curly-locked head. "You
have a point," she murmurs back, then winks at Kassima. "You're
traumatizing, all right. My poor weyrmate comes home shell-shocked
every night," she teases.

E'vrin adds, "And I don't dare think what you may be doing to these
poor Candidates." He considers Trilana and Ceria, as if the scars of
their experience might be visible.

Ceria grins over at E'vrin. "I know better than to let her do anything
to me," she says.

Trilana turns her head, catching the last of that. "Oh, please," she
chuckles. "I can fend for myself."

Kassima tosses her head, honestly attempting to look imposing. But
'imposing' and 'trying desperately not to laugh herself silly' are not
readily compatible expressions. "Is that a *dare*?" Eyes are rolled at
Lirra and the Candidates. "I don't do aught to 'em! Honestly! I mean,
besides the things one has t'be doing to a pawn, and that only
t'R'ehn. Greenrider's honor."

E'vrin glints a bit of a grin at the Candidates, then wonders, "What
does one have to do to be a pawn, anyway?"

Lirra does burst into laughter at this, brining on a small squall from
her son whom she instantly brings in for comforting, winking at Ceria
and Trilana both in understanding. "I know -precisely- how far
'greenrider honor' goes, Kassi. I learned from the best, remember?"

Aurian walks in from outside the room.
Aurian steps lightly in, she waves as she enters, "Anything exciting
happening?"

Kassima has to stop and consider this. "Cower a lot," she
decides. "And constantly mutter things like, 'Greenriders must be
obeyed. They're heavily armed.' Obeyance is a big part of
pawndom. Hey, Auri! Just discussing gambling, pawns, greenrider honor,
and m'ability to traumatize people. I still say I'm nay *that*
traumatic. Am I really?" She gives E'vrin and Lirra both a display of
puppy-dog eyes.

Ceria grins at Aurian. "I'm trying to avoid being traumatized," she
says in response to both her question, and Kassima's response.

E'vrin responds with a poke to Kassima's ribs, gleeful. "You are."
Then he waves cheerily at Aurian; he's bonding with Lirra, who's
shielding him from the wrath of Kassi.

Aurian raises her eyebrows, "Delightful." She drops into a seat and
grins a touch at E'vring.

Kassima pokes E'vrin back, this time in the nose. "Don't make me bite
your nose off," she threatens. Almost certainly an empty threat; who'd
want to eat someone's nose? "Aurian, you know E'vrin, don't you?"

Lirra waves one of Ivrihn's unresisting arms at Aurian, beaming over
at the Wingsecond, sitfling a giggle at the explanation of what makes
a pawn. All R'ehn, indeed. Very much so. She trades an amused look
with E'vrin, then nods reasonably at Kassima. "Highly traumatic. I
take notes whenever I can."

Trilana grins. "We /all/ are, Ceria."

Ceria laughs at Trilana. "In this Weyr, that sometimes seems to take a
tremendous effort," she comments.

E'vrin bares his teeth at Kassima, patently unafraid, with the depth
of hooded eyes warmly alight. He glances slant at Aurian. "/Have/ we
met? Let me see--"

Trilana grins softly. "Very, very good point," she murmurs, peering
out at the eggs.

Ceria also resumes her inspection of the eggs, every once in a while,
giving her mending some half-hearted attention.

Kassima thinks to add belatedly to the pawn arguments, "Oh, and one
must have very strange hair. R'ehn and V'dan both have very strange
hair, though R'ehn's is worse." That said, she makes an attempt at
ruffling E'vrin's hair in revenge. "Some people, however, just do nay
have natural pawn-hair--hey, now, Telgar isn't traumatic. It just
makes people go insane, that's all."

Lirra snorts cheerfully, ruffling the baby's hair and shaking her
head. "Ivrihn has the hair. I suppose that means he'll be a pawn
someday?"

Aurian grins at Kassima, "I believe I've met him once or twice." She
pushes her hair out of her eyes.

E'vrin notes, even while ducking (if not wholly out of range), "I have
normal hair. Just had it trimmed again, even. --Well, hello again --
Aurian, right? Sharath just passed that along; I'd be nowhere in
public situations without him." He adds a bright little smile; Lirra's
emboldened him. Or Kassi. Or something. "We're talking and
egg-watching. I'm being traumatized."

Kassima agrees contentedly with Lirra, "Some greenrider's helpless
pawn, aye. But 'tisn't such a bad life. Just make sure he isn't
*B'fus's* helpless pawn or something. Auri, come get a new look at
Kilt! His eyes have changed over! Or is he sleeping, Lirra?" Making a
face at E'vrin, she clearly considers threatening him again, but
settles for a kiss on the cheek instead. "Well, you did ask for it,
you know."

E'vrin whimpers appropriately.
E'vrin then grins and settles down, out of Aurian's view of the baby,
to ponder eggs.

Trilana turns towards E'vrin. "I dunno if I introduced myself. I'm
Trilana."

Lirra turns the baby around so that he's supported against the crook
of her arm, half sitting up as he waves his fists at the assembled
folk, fairly contented and peering about as much as a sixteen day old
baby can. "He's awake, yes, and his name is Ivrihn. And he can always
be a minion, Kassi. R'ehn may be your pawn, but he's my minion."

Aurian wanders to check on the baby, "He's lovely." She reaches down
and taps his nose with the lightest of touches.

Ceria glances over, her attention attracted by the baby. "He is
beautiful," she agrees with Aurian.

E'vrin slides obediently further down the bench, towards -- "Trilana?
Good evening; you caught my name?" Natural restraint is taking over;
he doesn't offer it again. "Congratulations on Search, by the way. I
hope you're enjoying the experience."

Kassima picks up her sketchwork and pencils again. "Beautiful, aren't
they?" she asks, clearly referring to the eggs. "But hard as shards to
draw. Fifteen greens, nine blues, five browns, four bronzes, one
gold. Oh, truth, Lirra? I'll remember nay t'call him minion anymore,
then; wouldn't want people t'be getting the wrong idea."

Lirra beams up at Aurian for the comment, then at Ceria. "Thank
you...thank you both. I think so too, but then my judgement's a little
suspect," she decides cheerfully, leaning down to plant a kiss on the
tiny head.

Trilana nods slowly. "I am indeed," she agrees. "Was it E'vrin?"
Trilana-sharp-ears asks.

--
         Sable tones contrast with pale milky white skin, dark against
light while fair face is angular, rough. Nose is small; lips are
sensuous, touched with rose. Aloof, face is serene though deep blue of
eyes are startling amidst pale skin while body echoes that of face,
sloping lines, toned muscles yet evident in slimly built form. Locks
of hair shadowy and dark filter to curl about pale form, cut to
shoulder, and curling softly at tips to frame face.
         Trilana is wearing a deep blue sweater and black wherhide
pants, strangely simple for someone so slight and elegant, although
even it looks gorgeous on her smallish, five foot three height,
slender and petite in it's form-fitting beauty.
         The knot resting on Trilana's shoulder is of a deep onyx and
a brilliant white, signifying Telgar Weyr. The strand that wriggles
through it is of pure white, as well, signifying her as a candidate.
         Trilana appears to be between 16 and 20 Turns old.
Carrying:
Karys
--

Ceria grins at Lirra. "I was the same way with Adaria," she admits.

E'vrin nods quickly back to Trilana. Having already prostrated himself
before the glory that is Kilt and his attendant mother, he stays with
this quieter puddle of talk. "Are you from Telgar? I'm sure that if
you are, you're used to this trauma, but if not..." He gives an
eloquent glance to indicate Kassima again.

Kassima protests, laughing, "*E'vrin*. You're going t'give these
people strange ideas about me!" As an afterthought, she adds, "I'm
perfectly capable of giving 'em strange ideas m'self!"

Trilana shakes her head, a curl bobbing in her face. "Oh no," she
says. "Not from... anywhere!"

Lirra laughs softly, shaking her head. "Not to worry, Kassi. I've
heard of a few folk questioning just who's weyrmate he is, although
it's not something I'm inclined to be concerned with," she assures
affably, then beams at Ceria. "I hear it's allowed for new mothers to
be biased."

E'vrin attempts to squash Kassima's complaints by the expedient of
squashing her: he leans back into her legs and from there blinks
pacifically at Trilana. "Not from anywhere? Well, you're from /here,/
now, aren't you?"

Ceria grins back at Lirra. "Even if it weren't allowed," she says,
"there's nothing anyone could do about it."

Trilana chuckles softly. "Okay, good point. But I wasn't born here."

Kassima isn't eating or drinking anything, but she somehow manages to
choke anyway. "They think *what*?" she demands of Lirra, half aghast
and half amused. E'vrin's head is given a light poke. "You tempt me
t'be coloring your hair with m'charcoal sticks, y'know."

E'vrin tilts his head back and offers, "Try it, and I'll traumatize
/you./" So menacing he is, too, especially when he returns a kindly
eye to Trilana. "Neither was I, but I'm doing all right, I suppose. Do
you want to have been born here?"

Lirra glances back at Kassima with a fairly amused look, shrugging
slightly. "Don't look at -me-. I happen to already know who's weyrmate
he is," she teases. Yes indeeedy do, she did take her evil
greenridering lessons from the Master. Nodding back at Ceria
contentedly, she agrees. "Not a thing. It's just part of nature, and
I'd not change it for the world."

Aurian leans her head back against the bench. She yawns.

Trilana shrugs and grins. "Since I can't change where I was born, the
point is moot, but no. Not really. I like telling people where I was
born."

Ceria smiles. "D'thon and I don't get to see Adaria as often as we'd
like, but at least we were able to foster her here at Telgar."

E'vrin prods the Candidate at his disposal, "So, tell me."

Kassima bends over as much as she can to try and look E'vrin in the
eye. "And what makes you think that scares me?" she wants to know,
aiming a tap at his nose with her green charcoal stick. Looking back
up, she opines, "Benden Weyr's the place t'be born, if'n you can
choose. Failing that, Greystones or Ruatha. Lirra, that just scares
me... the confusion, I mean, nay that you know the truth. That'd be
silly. Ooh, quick, does anyone have something I can throw in Auri's
mouth?"

"I was born on the road between Fort Hold and Fort Weyr," Tril tells
him before grinning up at Kassima.

Aurian hears that and peers at Kassima, "Hey now!"

E'vrin reminds Kassima quietly, "/I/ was born at Benden Weyr," then
makes a grab for that stick. Around the effort, he has to ask Trilana,
"Between? How did your mother manage that?"

Lirra makes a sympathetic face after wrinkling her nose impishly at
the Wingleader, and murmurs something in a suitably grateful tone for
proper infirmarys and nice healers.

Trilana chuckles. "Oh, she had me in the back of the wagon."

Kassima informs Aurian with affected primness, "That's what you get
for nay covering your mouth when you yawn. Hey!" Her distraction has
allowed the stick to be grabbed. "Give me back that stick! Believe me,
I envy you, though Greystones suited me. I'd like t'be able t'point
out that I'm Bendenite without having people argue. On the *road*?
Ow. That sounds... ow."

E'vrin gloats and hoards his stick all for his very own, although his
up-tilted glance suggests Kassima might get it back if she tried a
good enough bribe. "Wagon," he murmurs meanwhile, towards
Trilana. "That sounds very ow."

Trilana nods slowly, sagely. "Yes, Very ow," she says to both Kassi
and E'vrin. "But she did it, and we continued onto the weyr the next
day."

Aurian leans back on her elbows, she sticks her tounge out at Kassima.

Kassima informs E'vrin, quite seriously, "In case there was any doubt,
I refuse t'give birth t'your spawn in the back of a wagon." She throws
a wink at Trilana, then sets her hands on her hips--well, her
sides--and demands, green eyes twinkling, "Are you going t'make me do
something that will nauseate the other folk here in order t'get that
stick back?"

Trilana giggles and winks at Kassima. "I wouldn't give birth to
/anyone's/ spawn in the back of a wagon."

E'vrin taps the end of the stick delicately against his lips and makes
big, innocent eyes over it at Kassima. How badly /does/ she want it
back? He throws a mirthful glance to Trilana, too: trauma works both
ways.

Ceria turns her full attention back to the eggs, managing to ignore
everything going on around her.

Lirra regards her son with a very serious amount of overly cute funny
faces, noting to him in near baby-talk, "And we think Aunt Kassi
should be sweet to get the stick back, don't we? Yes, we do, mm-hmm."

Kassima wasn't using the stick; she doesn't really need it--but no one
takes what's hers without facing the peril. Sliding down to the next
level of seats, she warns, "Last chance t'give that back without
suffering the penalty." Eyeing Lirra, she cracks a brief grin but soon
manages to return to looking... uh... well, sorta imposing. Vaguely.

E'vrin half-lids his eyes, slides his hand up over the stick, and asks
the surrounding watchers lightly, "What do you think? Is she being
serious? Should I try to get a headstart on an escape now?"

Trilana snorts. "I have no comment."

Kassima avows, craning her head to peer at the others, "He can run,
but he can't hide. M'pawns will find him to exact revenge if'n he
doesn't surrender the stick!"

E'vrin looks /so/ scared, it must be noted.

Trilana tilts her head and grins at Kassi. "Pawns?"

"R'ehn and V'dan," Kassi specifies, before returning her
not-quite-steely gaze to E'vrin. "Going once..." she warns.

E'vrin nibbles on the stick and dares her with his eyes.

Ceria glances over, her attention attracted by the scene. "I'd run if
I were you," she advises merrily.

Lirra smothers a laugh in her baby's hair at the idea of her weyrmate
as an enforcer of any sort. "Oh, certainly. R'ehn's terribly
threatening," she agrees, managing to keep a straight face.

Kassima holds up two fingers. "Going twice...." Does she really expect
surrender? Maybe it's just some sort of bizarre requirement of honor
to give ample warning.

Honor, schmonor. E'vrin leans back against the next higher tier,
shakes his head with a grin at Ceria's advice, and drapes himself with
ostentatious, casual disdain. The stick twiddles idly between two
fingers: come and get it.

Kassima doesn't look terribly dismayed that the warnings didn't
take. "Don't say I didn't warn you," she does advise, before sliding
her arms around his neck to exact her punishment for stick-theft: a
kiss fit to leave a man breathless, and nauseate the watchers no
end. Hah! Take *that*, stick-stealer!

E'vrin does take it. And take it. And take it. Then, when he needs a
bit of breath before he can take some more, he pulls free enough to
mouth 'here' to Trilana and toss her the stick. Ha!

Trilana eeeps and catches the stick, hiding it behind her back.

Lirra beams at the kiss, watching with patent glee and not a hint of 
bashfulness as she notes to Ivrihn, "See? Aunt Kassi can be very nice
indeed when she wants to be, hmm? Hmm...maybe we should go find your
Da," she adds in a suddenly thoughtful murmur.

Ceria has disconnected.

Kassima finally, finally pulls back, probably because *she's* in need
of breath. "See, that's why running would've been bad. You wouldn't
have wanted one of m'pawns t'do that instead. Now, where's my stick?"
she demands, arching eyebrows.

E'vrin mutely spreads his empty hands and a seraphic smile to go with
them.

Trilana maintains her position from earlier, shaking her head as
though amused and peering out over the sands curiously. The stick is
hidden in her tunic. Shh.

Lirra clenches her teeth to keep from laughing outright. "I don't
know, Kassi...I wouldn't object to one of your pawns pulling that on
me, certainly," she decides innocently.

E'vrin murmurs, "It was very persuasive, Lirra, if not quite
persuasive enough."

Kassima's eyes widen in dismay at the lack of stick in said
hands. "But... but that was m'*stick*! M'green-colored stick! The best
color of all the sticks! What have you done with it, you fiend? And
what d'you *mean*, nay persuasive enough?"

"You didn't get the stick back," E'vrin points out. "Therefore, not
persuasive enough." He slits his eyes in warm satisfaction. "Although
very nice technique, if I'm any judge. Still ... well, you'll have to
find a new stick, I'm afraid."

Trilana shakes her head slowly and grins at Kassima. "Poor Kassi," she
says and looks out over the sands again.

Lirra waggles her brows at the greenrider, nodding affably. "He's
right, Kassima. You'll just have to try harder," she adds with a
sublimely serene smile.

"Well, thankee," Kassi begins modestly, before the last sentence hits
home. Her lower lip sticks out in the beginnings of a
pout. "But... but I *want* m'*stick*! Please? Pretty please with
frosted cabbage on top?"

Trilana snorts. "Frosted /cabbage/?"

E'vrin scowls and repeats in the same tone, "Frosted /cabbage/? That
is not inclined to sway me to your cause, my very dear. No, Lirra may
have a point, although you needn't persuade me again here. There are,
after all, youngsters present." And he points solemnly at the clutch
sleeping in the sands.

Kassima remarks grousingly, "I *like* frosted cabbage." Heaving a
great sigh of affected hardship, she inquires meekly, "Perhaps I could
better persuade you elsewhere, then? And then you'd give me back the
stick? Wherever 'tis?"

"Wherever it is," E'vrin repeats, now, thoughtfully. He bends to peer
around below his bench. "You know ... I don't know /where/ it went."

Trilana crosses her legs and does her normal egg-counting routine.

Kassima warns, waggling a finger, "There'd be nay point of trying
t'persuade if'n you couldn't find the stick."

Oh. Right. E'vrin's eyes widen. "Well..."

Trilana grins at E'vrin. Caught. Tee hee.

Lirra wrinkles her nose at the thought of frosted cabbage, although
the talk of further pursuasion seems to be sending the mental gears to
turning. "Hmmm...yes. Finding this little one's Da is a -good- idea."
She winks at Trilana cheerfully, then adds a positive beaming smile at
Kassima and E'vrin. "If you'll all excuse me?"

E'vrin shoots her a fulminating look. Tee hee /you,/ he may. "--Of
course, Lirra. My regards to the proud father."

Kassima folds her arm and leans back, expectant, though she fires
another wink at Lirra. "A'course, a'course. Regards t'R'ehn, hmm? And
fairest of winds and skies and all that stuff."

Trilana grins at Lirra. "You're of course excused." She winks and
waves Lirra off.

E'vrin is frowning his way through this dilemma. Slowly.

Lirra adds a serene smile and Aurian and bundles up her son before
hurrying out.
Lirra walks off towards the Central Bowl.

Kassima suggests after a few moments of watching E'vrin frown,
"Mayhaps someone else has seen the stick? Though I refuse t'persuade
*them* t'try and give it up, I'm sorry."

Trilana shakes her head in Kassima's direction, eyes serene. "I
haven't, Kassima. Although... what would be the reward if I had?"

E'vrin squints at the Candidate pensively. "I'd say you should get the
same treatment I did."

"Your continued life, if'n you surrendered it?" Kassi suggests,
keeping a straight face somehow. Just don't ask her how. "She's a
*woman*, E'vrin. I'm nay kissing her!"

Trilana giggles. "But the point is moot as I /don't/ have the stick."

E'vrin abandons virtue. "But I /gave/ it to you!"

Kassima settles back into a pout. "You lost my stick," she accuses
E'vrin. "This is all your fault. Hey! Why, you--!"

E'vrin fends her off with a quick hand-swipe and big, winsome
eyes. "Better given away than lost?" he tries.

Trilana sighs softly and produces the stick from her tunic, handing it
to Kassima. "Here you go."

Aurian blinks, "Who's kissing who?" She pushes her hair out of her
eyes, that'll teach her to have those long chats with Kvasith.

You say "--Kassi's not kissing Trilana. It looks like she's not
kissing me anymore, either."

Kassima starts to reply to that, but is distracted by the stick's
return; she accepts it and holds it aloft, triumphantly. "Behold! The
stick! Thankee, Trilana." A sidelong look is directed at E'vrin. "Oh,
I don't know. Do I have reason to? Kiss you, I mean, nay Trilana. I'm
just plain nay going t'kiss Trilana. Sorry, Trilana."

Trilana grins. "No worries. REally. I'm not offended."

E'vrin tries to be gallant. "/I'd/ kiss you, Trialana." So there.

"And then I'd pass the stick to... um... some guy," Kassi retorts. "So
that you'd have t'be kissing him, too."

Trilana blushes. "Well. Thanks. I think."

E'vrin squints at the wingleader; point made. "I put it in the
conditional," he tells Trilana rather shyly. "I'm not going to do so,
don't worry."

Trilana chuckles suddenly and nods. "Good, good, good."

Kassima tucks her stick safely away behind her ear. "Now... what were
we talking about before the stick became such an issue?"

You say "I daresay that'd be rude of me, as a guest, and would earn me
an unsavory reputation, to boot." He props back on his elbows and
ponders eggs. "I don't remember, Kassi. Trilana's lamented mother's
lamented labor in a wagon, I think."

Trilana nods. "Oh yes. Something I heard about over and over and over
again." She mimics. "'I was in labor for half a day with you in the
back of a sharding wagon! BE GOOD!'"

Aurian stands and brushes the dust off her legs, "Need some klah," she
toes a wave to the others.
Aurian walks off towards the Central Bowl.

E'vrin rolls his eyes skyward. "This, I am familiar with. You've my
sympathy -- no, empathy, Trilana."

Trilana chuckles. "I never knew women could use the pain and power of
birth as a childrearing tool," she muses softly, grinning.

E'vrin's lashes lower briefly. "Women can use the pain and power of
many things in child-rearing, I'm afraid."

Trilana raises an eyebrow slowly and doesn't ask, just angles blue
eyes left to view the eggs.

Kassima nods decisively in agreement. "Aye, and I was refusing t'give
birth in a wagon. 'Tis all coming back t'me now. Don't all mothers do
that?" Pitching her voice up higher, she intones, "I was in labor for
nearly *two days* with you, and I didn't even get t'break your
father's hand, so don't you *dare* get sassy with me, young lady!'" A
concerned glance is slanted towards E'vrin, and she inquires softly,
"Bad memory?"

E'vrin wrinkles his nose. "I still know how to break a mood, I
see. No, no, it's nothing. My mother had expectations of her life that
she didn't meet, and she tended to direct her resentment at me as the
living embodiment of failure. It's over; it's past." Doesn't mean his
hand doesn't creep out to find Kassima's for reassurance. "Now,
Trilana, which egg are you staring holes into, in particular?"

Trilana nods slowly and leaps onthe subject change. "That one," she
says, pointing to Herath's ninth egg. "That black one. That black one
with a /green/ in it."

--
Obsidian Quartz Egg
Glittering magnificently on the lighter colored sands surrounding it,
this flawless egg looks as if it were hewn from a giant block of
midnight black obsidian and polished to a perfect smoothness by the
loving hand of a Mastercrafter. Laced with sparkling grey veins, the
shell seems to pulse, catching every stray beam of light and
reflecting it back in scattered, shifting patterns, as if pieces of
broken glass had been strewn across its surface.
--

Kassima laces her fingers through his and leans briefly against him to
offer comfort. "Blue," she corrects, going with the subject change
also. "And I'll have your marks when it hatches, Trilana! D'you play
the color game, E'vrin?"

Trilana snorts and shakes her head, but doesn't speak. "Hey, I bet I
know what color that one is!" she says with a wink and a playful grin,
pointing to the big gold one.

"And just *what* kind of fool d'you think I am?" Kassima demands
good-naturedly.

E'vrin puts in diffidently, "Sharath says brown, but he might be
acting contrary -- Oh, /very/ good, Trilana." He rolls his eyes again,
this time with extravagant humor. "I don't bet on these things,
Kassima; no marks. Besides, Sharath can find out what's in what egg,
as any dragon can. They can touch the little minds." His voice drifts
a moment. "Like stars, a little--"

Trilana giggles. "I'm /smart/!" At E'vrin's last comment, she sighs
softly, caught up as well.

Kassima admits, "Well, but that takes all the fun out of
it... besides, d'you think *they* know what color they are ere they're
born? Gender, aye; you might pick out the greens, but beyond
that... awww, shardit. Well, you can't blame me for trying."

E'vrin grants mellowly, "Trilana's smart. So's Sharath; he has the
keenest mind around, or so he likes to tell me. He'd know, if any
dragon would, but I have to beg him to tell me what he finds." Nice
dragon, that.

Trilana chuckles and peers out over the sands. "That one, that's a
blue," she says, waggling at an egg. She doesn't know
anything. REally.

Kassima softens, then, at the mention of stars. "Little flickers and
sparks of life... aye. Fair analogy. Dragons are contrary beasts,
aren't they? Lysseth won't always tell me things, either. And for a
green, she's perceptive. Comes from being wary of everything,
probably. That one? Nay. Green."

E'vrin nudges a shoulder into Kassima. "Caught up in green, you are."

Trilana snorts and shakes her head. "Contrary, contrary, contrary."

Kassima nudges back, albeit with an elbow. "And why nay? Green *is*
the superior color."

"My beast won't disagree, at least in some venues," E'vrin answers
after a pause. He shakes his head -- dragons -- and returns to
Trilana. "And so, Candidate, having asked after your favorite egg, I'm
obliged to follow up with this: Which color dragon would you prefer?
Does your heart sing for one over any other?"

Trilana blushes. Oh dear. Dragon talk. "I think..." she says, brow
knitting slowly, "I think I would like a green," she says with a
nod. "I... don't know why. But... green."

Kassima starts mouthing helpfully to Trilana, 'Green. Greeeeeeeen.'
Kassima then bobs her head decisively, and gives E'vrin a triumphant
look. "See? Smart lass."

Trilana snorts. "I said it before you... helped, Kassima," she teases,
grinning.

E'vrin slants Kassima a tolerant smile. "I think she got it by
herself, yes. Green /is/ good. We admire the hide off them: some of
Igen's best fighters are greens, and without them, we'd be awash in
Thread, all of us on this world."

Kassima beams at E'vrin, clearly pleased by this response. "Green is
wonderful. A'course, all the other colors are too! As a Wingleader,
'tis m'business t'know what each is good for--save gold, and that's
just too obvious."

E'vrin tips his head into Kassima's shoulder now. All the stick
merriment was tiring. "And what is bronze good for, anyway? I'd like
to know, I think."

Trilana chuckles. "I don't think there /is/ one superior color. even
though you'll kill me,Kassima."

You say "She wouldn't kill you. Stick you, maybe."
You say "Right?"

Trilana nods her head. "Okay. Good. Better."

Kassima rests her cheek against his hair. "Bronzes are intelligent and
steadfast. Strong, sturdy. They're needed at the head of any formation
that's going into the wind, t'cut the path for their wingmates, who
couldn't force their way as easily through the winds. Due t'stamina,
they can last a full Fall, and flame longer, which can be crucial when
you're caught in an entire sheet of the stuff. A'course, some talents
are dependant on dragon. Kill? I'd nay *kill*. Too messy."

E'vrin notes regretfully, "Sharath's too small for much of that,
though. We ride in others' slipstreams. --And Faranth forfend we have
to deal with /mess./ Aside from children's, that is."

Trilana folds her hands and rests her head on it, listening to the
chatter curiously.

Kassima points out with seriousness, "But that makes you more
agile. Agility is key. Speed is also key; that's Lysseth's
strength. Since she's a large green, dexterity has t'be forced and
practiced where 'twould be like breathing for her smaller sisters."
Flicking a wry grin towards Trilana, she remarks, "Welcome to the
wonderful world of dragons. Each one of 'em's different, which is what
makes m'job interesting."

Trilana nods slowly, an almost enchanted smile on her face. "Oh
yes. It'd be boring if they were all the same. Like people."

E'vrin permits himself a bit of preening on his mate's behalf, however
estranged they may be. "He /is/ nimble, I'll give him that. We've yet
to be seriously scored." Then he flicks a lazy look at the
Candidate. "Makes the whole life at a Weyr interesting. You get a
/lot/ of these conversations. Are they tiresome?"

Trilana shakes her head, not humoring him in the slightest. "Never."

You say "Then you're more tolerant than I was as a Candidate."

Trilana nods slowly. "I... well, I like to think I'm tolerant."

"Which is a good way to ensure that you are, or will be," E'vrin's
quick to assure her. "Denying it is when your mind closes up."

Trilana nods and blushes a bit. "You're right," she says, not knowing
what else to say to what feels like a compliment.

"Difference of interest?" Kassima suggests to E'vrin, tilting her chin
to look at him. "If'n you adore dragons a'forehand, or are at least
interested, you might soak up all you can. Methinks I did. Mum being a
draconophobe and all, 'twas all a novelty. *Are* dragons one of your
interests, Trilana? Apart from the whole Search gig?"

Trilana nods solemnly. "Oh yes," she says, suddenly cheery. "Always
have been. When I was little and we were at a weyr, I'd sit in the
bowl for hours, just watching 'em."

E'vrin is content to exude benevolence at both of them, and answer
Kassima's question politely after the Candidate has. "Born at and
taken from a Weyr. With my childhood -- no, didn't know or care about
dragons one way or another. But here I am where I am, so there you
go. Not like Trilana at all: that's a better way to go, I think."

Kassima grins at Trilana in understanding. "The moment I saw
'em--well, i'truth, the first I saw up relatively close were gearing
up t'be chasing a queen. Odd introduction to dragonkind. But I
couldn't believe how beautiful they were, and 'tis probably why I
wound up with so many 'lizards so soon after leaving
home. Gah. Ancient history, now." Her turn to nudge E'vrin with a
shoulder. "Don't have t'be dragon-obsessed t'be a good rider. It
probably just helps a touch."

"Not saying anything about being a good rider nor a bad one," E'vrin
assures her. "But it sounds like a happy way to grow up. Have you
/seen/ her fair, by the way, Trilana?"

Trilana nods in agreement with Kassi's last statement. "In fact, it's
probably a good thing to have riders who /aren't/
dragon-obsessed. Different views." At E'vrin's question... "No, I
haven't."

You say "It's huge. Tell her. It's positively, obscenely,
masochistically huge."

Trilana raises an eyebrow. "/That/ huge?"

E'vrin nods soberly.

Kassima chuckles rather wickedly. "If'n you think 'tis bad now,
m'dear, you should've seen it when I'd nearly three-score. Most of 'em
stayed behind at Benden, and probably cause nay end of havoc for
whomever has m'weyr there now." Sorrow, sharp but fleeting, flares in
her eyes at the thought, and voice falters. Still, she recovers
swiftly. "Right now, aye, I've twenty and two. Most blue."

Trilana shakes her head, chuckling. "I've got /one/."

You say "And I've two, greens who are well mannered enough to stay out
of my way most of the time. What you'd do with /sixty/ or even the
twenty-odd now..."

Kassima senses "E'vrin's weight leans warmly in at the touch of
sorrow: don't."

Trilana points to her one, Karys, a blue. "This is mine. Karys. Rys."

"Spend time as each Hatches teaching it t'fend somewhat for itself,
mostly. With a few exceptions, and most of those were the ones who
stayed. Kyril, m'first one; Zabreneva, Quixote here...."

E'vrin supposes, "They do keep you warm at night." He peers at Karys
carefully then nods to the blue. Polite, even to a fire-lizard
(especially when he has none on him, himself).

Trilana grins and nods. "That's what I've heard about people who have
lots and lots of firelizards. A few stay with you." Karys chitters
cheerily at E'vrin, as bubbly as his pet is.

--
Ice shimmers down outstretched wings, cold blues wrapping around lithe
form, slightly neon blues dripping over eyeridges and down nose,
giving Karys a simply innocent, curious, lively image. Silver streaks
down a long tail, intermingling with cold yet soft blues to create a
shimmering little creature.
Karys is 0 Turns, 4 months, and 21 days old and is 34 centimeters in
length with a wingspan of 56 cm.
--
[Player volunteered that a tweak is coming.]

You sense Kassima flickers a rueful glance towards you, but makes an
attempt to brighten; one corner of her mouth curls up, just a
touch. Sad regret hasn't been thwarted, but temporarily dismissed.

Kassima agrees, "Oh, they do. A'course, Aurian's since given me her
old Healer-hearth, so I don't have t'depend on 'lizard-heating."

E'vrin looks domestically placid. "Warm beds are lovely," and he
sighs. "Which may be why I hear mine calling me from across the wide
desert and plains. Or it's Sharath, more likely: he gets itchy for
home if we're away long without keeping him entertained."

Kassima clicks her tongue in dismay, but obediantly unwinds her
fingers from his. "Well, little wonder when Igen is probably much
warmer than here. Clear skies and fair winds, bronzer--and next time
you come t'visit, promise: nay stick-stealing?"

E'vrin ducks his head, boyishly contrite. "No stick-stealing." A tweak
of a glance at Trilana. "Well, not without others to back me up,
anyway."

Trilana grins at E'vrin. "Next time, I promise to be your accomplice
yet again, E'vrin. Very well met."

Kassima harumphs. "You just want t'be persuaded again," she accuses,
playful.

"Very well, indeed, Trilana." E'vrin climbs to his feet, his hand
sliding up Kassima's back to brush through her hair, and he demands in
like tone, "Well, why not? Next time I'll steal something even better,
I think; make you practice your persuasion."

Kassima tilts up her chin, even as she slips an arm around E'vrin's
waist for a brief hug. "Are you accusing me of *needing* practice,
bronzerider?" she asks archly, eyebrows waggling just a touch.

"Desiring it," E'vrin purrs complacently back and then slips free for
home.

[Log ends.]