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Playing For Cookies


Date:  December 29, 2005
Place:  South Boll's Lava Lounge
Game:  PernMUSH
Copyright Info:  The World of Pern is copyright(c) to Anne McCaffrey 
l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.

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Kassi's Note:  That Kassi was sent off to Benden hasn't ended her 
friendship with everyone she knew at Telgar.  She and M'tri are still
friends--and married, sort of, in their ersatz way--close enough to 
meet each other for poker at a favorite bar and together pass on the
tricks of card play to his two-Turn-old son.

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The Log:

You climb up the crude ladder and disappear from view.

"Okay, look Err, this is how it's gonna work. You, with your cup of juice,
are going to sit in this chair..." M'tri, as he speaks, is putting the tiny
form of his son through the paces, handing him the small cup of juice and
plucking him off the ground to set him in the chair, "and you are going to
be quiet until Daddy's not quiet anymore, okay? And if Daddy takes a nap,"
he demonstrates napping, as any good father would, "you will take this
spoon and this pot," enter wooden spoon, metal pot, "and bang it till Daddy
wakes up." Erisan understands this only as much as a two year old would. He
does, however, have enough understanding to say, "Bang, noise," which M'tri
takes as complete coherant understanding, and contently sits down. "And
when Aunt Kassi comes, you can smooch on her and tell her all the words
you've learned that Mum won't let you say."

Enter, stage right, a woman on a mission. Kassi isn't accompanied by a
cadre of singing Wingmates tonight; she isn't squabbling in friendly
fashion with someone over bets; she hasn't even brought her children to
train them in the venerable arts of terrorizing Marcus. It's all about the
hard liquor, baby. "Hey, Marcus. One Green Dragon. One Monsoon. One
Thread." She holds up three fingers. "I solemnly swear, avow, and affirm
nay t'be mixing them at once again--that particular experiment was *vile*."
The bartender looks somewhat dubious, but sets to work on her drinks
anyway, leaving her time to scan the Lounge in search of her table of the
evening--and spot a toddler who isn't hers here for a change. "Trii," she
greets with a slow smile. "And Erisan; heya, sweetling. Don't listen t'your
Da: what you really want t'do if'n he falls asleep is find something messy
t'scribble all over his face with."

Erisan all but jumps from the seat, a good story of a leap for a child his
size, and as he was told he was allowed to do, he runs to Kassi and meets
her halfway, hugging on her leg. "Aunta Kassi!" Indeed. If taller, he'd
likely be smooching too. "Don't tell him that," M'tri half-begs, but with a
smile. "He'll -try-."

Always a sucker for kidlet-hugs, Kassi visibly brightens when the Erisan
Missile launches itself for her; and once it's claimed her leg, she laughs
and attempts to scoop the small weapon of evil up into a hug. "Beautiful
boy! You've been listening t'your father again. But where hugging me is
concerned, I can forgive that. What's brought *you* to the Lounge? Are you
going t'play poker with me?" She'll rumple Erisan's hair if he'll allow it,
because she's Aunt Kassi and she must. "'Course he will, Trii, and probably
succeed if'n I'm there t'help him. What in the names of the stars are you
feeding this child? I'd swear he's bigger every time I see him."

"We fertilize him daily," M'tri assures, grinning at the pair. Erisan,
suddenly taller, allows the ruffling of his hair in exchange for the chance
to plant a big old kidlet kiss on Kassi's cheek. Mmmmwah. "Actually, you'd
be surprised how much he doesn't eat. He turns his nose up when I try to
give him anything but delightful sugary products. I don't know how to make
him eat his tubers, but I think Lani does. So, I'll just be the evil behind
the good foods." M'tri shrugs a bit, sitting down and indicating the other
chairs at the table for Kassi; all are free, obviously, save for the one
with a small cup of juice in front of it. "A game of poker. I know Err
doesn't have anything to bet...but maybe he's holding out on me. Me,
though, I'm good for poker."

Kassima quips as she leans in for smoochies, "Now there's a mental image,
and this is where I *do nay ask* what substance you use for that. At all.
You're trying t'feed this fine lad *tubers*?" She cranes her neck back to
better split a look of faux horror between the two: "Shells, nay wonder
he'd draw on your face! Tubers are the Enemy and I don't blame him a whit.
C'mon, though, Erisan. Misguided though your Da is, he's offering poker and
that's a musical sound t'my ears." If the boy permits she'll lower him into
the chair before that juice cup, then excuse herself long enough to fetch
her own three glasses before taking a chair for herself. "He could wager
eating foods," she speculates. "Put up a willingness t'have some
fingerroots as his stake. You won't be getting that from me, though--I'm
old enough t'be eating all the sweetener I want to with nay anyone t'stop me."

M'tri's eyebrows furrow at the three retrieved drinks with some skepticism.
"Not for the same time, are they, Kassi?" he inquires, watching and then
aiding Erisan when the lad reaches for his cup, and can't quite reach. "If
you stand on the chair..." M'tri says with a wink at his son, pushing the
cup a mite closer to the reaching fingers. Back to Kassima: "You remember
what you said happened last time..." His own drinks are set off to the
side, a blue dragon, a thread, and a tunnel snake, all lined up neatly. And
a second juice cup, just in case Erisan gets -really- thirsty. The
bluerider looks inquisitively around for a deck of cards, tapping his
fingers on the tabletop while he does. "Cards, cards..." Erisan, always
wanting to be like his da, copies, without a rhythm, and taps the table,
echoing as well, with a louder voice, "Cards, cards, cards!"

"One after the other," Kassi says with a one-shouldered shrug. "Nay mixed
together, I promised Marcus that. He's always leery of m'experiments.
Rightly so in this case, since putting these three in the same glass lands
you with something that tastes like a liquor cabinet threw it up." She has
the sense to keep her glasses out of Erisan's reach; proponent of toddler
drinking, she isn't. "What kind of Thunderbolt rider are you? Nay having
cards on your person," she tease-chides, digging in her jacket pocket and
producing a timeworn deck. "Listen t'this wisdom, Erisan: always, always
carry cards. Because you never know when the opportunity t'fleece some poor
luckless soul will strike."

M'tri sobers up considerably. "Had to make room for the maps and hides and
the little flasks of liquor. Things have changed a lot since you left,
Kassi." Never would the bluerider resort to asking her to come back, that's
just embarassing and very rude, but it's easy to see that he thinks -that-
would be the best and perhaps only solution. "No obligations to spawn, none
to gamble, and less to play. Pshaw." Erisan, for his part, doesn't answer.
He's too busy sipping at his cup and regarding the other seven cups on the
table. Hmmm.

A pause, and then one side of Kassi's mouth quirks up in a smile that isn't
really a smile. "Since 'twas sent. I'm sorry t'be hearing that. When I
heard word that T'bay took it over, I thought mayhaps... could've been
worse, y'know? Could've been K'ran himself. Or one of his favorites." As
she speaks she slides her cards from their box and starts shuffling with
deft fingers, cutting without even needing to look. "Any Wingleader would
make it what he wanted it t'be, I guess. My Thunderbolt wasn't exactly like
P'tran's. Or F'hlan's. What'll the ante be?"

"Yeah, it's just a bit of a shock for those people who -aren't- leading it,
I guess." M'tri sighs slightly, frowning bitterly at the mention of K'ran.
"Good thing he didn't, or he'd have a bluerider going to another place for
a long time. Well, longer than my visit to Southern, at least." He shrugs,
then says, on a lighter note, "Err, wanna play cards?" Taught well, the boy
responds with an innocence not becoming of a gambler, "Dea' me in."

"Doubtless. 'Tisn't a shock I'd have visited on you if'n I'd any say in it,
as I hope you know." Unsurprisingly given the topic, Kassi takes a large
gulp of her Green Dragon. This sign of discontent with K'ran wins a real
grin still: "Lani might have *something* unhappy t'say about that. Fair
enough, m'laddio; we'll nay play for marks then, Trii? Wouldn't seem fair,
in Erisan's first game." Yeah, like that'd stop her if it weren't for his
being two. Even she hesitates when it comes to fleecing babies.

"If he beats the pants off us," M'tri says, in sort of a warning, mostly
directed towards his far-too-eager-to-gamble son, "I'm jumping off the
ledge. To hell with trying to mentally push myself *between* or something.
I'll have one last drink of Benden White and then leap to my doom all from
the shame of losing poker not only to my wingmates but to a two turn old."

"You will nay. You'll fly swiftly home t'Lanisa," Kassima retorts, "and get
t'work on more miracle gambling genius children, the better t'train 'em in
the ways of cards and take a cut of their winnings until they're old enough
t'protest. You'll grow rich beyond the dreams of men, and you'll shower
your long-suffering husband with expensive presents in order t'mollify him
on the subject of your mistress. Then Lani will suddenly realize that
you've been deceiving her and none of the children are hers at all. They're
actually mine, and you lied t'her about every pregnancy. Then she'll leave
you, thousands of marks and all, and the children will go t'live with her,
and you'll find I've spent all your money, and then--*then*--destitute and
broke and alone, you'll jump off the ledge. Get your stories straight." She
doesn't miss a beat in dealing cards as she rattles through all this;
wouldn't you just know?

M'tri's eyes widen. "Well...if that's how it has to be, I guess that's how
it has to be. But...how long have you thought that through, my demise?
Cause that was very well planned out." Part of looking fearful of Kassi's
plans, M'tri reaches to his side and finds, still full, his mark sack.
"Yep, they're still there." To Erisan, "Tell you what, my dearest
child...if you don't want to become your Aunt's slave for gambling, then I
do reccomend you be game to losing." Erisan, holding his cards mixed
backwards and forwards, is studying them intently, his brow furrowed with
toddler concentration. M'tri picks his own up properly, only chuckling at
his table mates.

The smile Kassima gives her bride is frighteningly sweet and sunny. "Since
the very day I married you, joyous jewel of m'heart. I've gone through
several ideas in the interim. For many a Turn 'twas convinced you'd meet
your end beaten t'death by a jealous greenrider after you'd sat in his
bronzerider's lap right a'fore his eyes; but now... now I like the
ledge-launch better." Studying her cards, Kassi draws one side of her lower
lip in between her teeth to chew on it thoughtfully. After a moment she
says, "I'm in. 'Twill raise... shells, what, in lieu of marks? I know.
'Twill raise half a cookie."

Cookies! Where? Erisan hears that word and the game is forgotten, for a
moment, while he scopes the table for the magically appearing cookies that
don't exist. Disappointed, the lad looks intently at the back of his cards
again, and sits there waiting patiently for help, as a child will, looking
sidelong at his Da, who says, "Fine, I'll meet and raise another half a
cookie." There's that cookie stuff again; another quick evaluation, no
cookies, and Erisan sits, swinging his feet back and forth while M'tri
leans over and fixes his cards properly, then says: "Oh ho!" and proceeds
to whisper in his ear words which are choppingly echoed by Erisan. "I
meetcha boff an' raise two cookies."

Kassima muses with a face that's somehow kept straight, "Three cookies.
Those're serious stakes that you're talking, men. I hope you know what
you're in for... 'twill call those three cookies. Three players." She tugs
two cards from her hand to discard, helping herself to replacements. "I
hope you two have *good* cookies."

M'tri hmms thoughtfully to himself, calling himself and discarding three of
his own cards. Three players, three cookies, three cards. Maybe a pair of
threes awaits someone too, that would just make life great. Erisan is
helped to discard two cards...and then three, on second thought, and both
wait for thier replacements patiently: Erisan gulping back juice, M'tri
knocking back most of the blue dragon in a swift gulp.

Kassima flicks out cards with a practiced hand, and wastes no time once
they're delivered in saying, "I raise two cookies." Then finishing off her
Green Dragon with a flourish. Celebrity Poker Showdown has nothing for
excitement on this table. "Annnnnd... a fruit ice. Strawberry."

M'tri leans over to whisper conspiratorally with his son, "Don't think
she's bluffing son, maybe we should surrender to her." But surrender is far
from Erisan's mind in cookies. He doesn't know what he's got, but he
doesn't know what she's got either, so that makes him blind all around. He
assumes she's playing the same way, probably. M'tri grimaces, as though the
stakes are higher than any he's played with Kassi in his life, and rubs his
forehead in a nervous gesture before agreeing to the terms and adding, "And
Err does too."

"You've got something," Kassi mutters under her breath, adjusting her cards
in her hands. "You're putting on too much of a show t'have naught. Unless,
a'course, you're showing tells on purpose t'make me *think* you have
something when really you have naught. And Erisan! I can't tell a thing
about what he has. He has a better poker face than you, sweet wife." She
wiggles her eyebrows. Then, "But regardless...." She turns up her cards:
Ace of Holds, Weyrleader, two of Crafts, Lady Holder, six of Crafts. "Now
watch Erisan have a Master Conclave and make us both rue the day."

No, no Master Conclave in either hand. But, Erisan does proudly display a
pair of sixes: Hold and Craft, alongside his other cards. Not bad, not bad.
And M'tri...has obviously learned that bluffing gets him no where. He
presents, with a slight grin at his opponents, a Weyrwoman, Lord Holder,
four of Holds, two of Holds, and seven of Crafts. "I guess that means all
those cookies are mine," he says with mock woe.

"You *suck*," Kassi sighs, but it's pure formality. She grins. "Aye, Erisan
and I owe you cookies. You'll be taking sweets from your own son--isn't
that dastardly?" She lowers her voice though to confide to Erisan, "Give
him the pleading eyes and 'twill wager aught that he'll share, win or nay
win. --The only question left then is whether you want me t'buy you
cookies, cajole you cookies from Benden's Bakers, or make you cookies m'self."

"With you plotting my demise, I don't think you should bake anything for
me." Always looking out for his best interest, Daikoth's rider. Erisan
looks heartbroken for a moment, before he sighs and says, "This game eats
shells. I want my juice." Well, now it looks like they're playing with
marks, because once M'tri gives his son the juice, the lad carefully
dismounts his chair and goes to wander off, staying far from the ladder and
instead inspecting the interesting scribbles on the wall and, when that
gets boring (it takes a few seconds), he decides to wander to Marcus and
irritate the bartender.

Kassima snickers openly at Erisan's choice of phrasing, asking M'tri, "Was
it you or Lani who taught him that line? Don't worry, Erisan," she calls
after the boy. "If'n your Da doesn't give you cookies 'twill harangue him
straight into seven sevendays from now!" At least it sounds threatening.
"You know I'm nay *really* plotting your demise. Nay while you and Lani
still have time t'provide Is with more grandchildren and thus more teasing
fodder for me. Another hand? I assume we're nay out t'get hopelessly drunk,
what with your boy here."

M'tri pats the pot and wooden spoon fondly. "Not specifically, but if it
were to happen, Erisan knows what to do. And Daikoth, too. Erisan says
sometimes Daikoth talks to him, when I'm sleeping, but I don't know what to
think. I keep forgetting to ask Lani if Taralyth ever spoke to her." A
shrug and a nod to the cards. "I mean, I really don't put it -above-
Daikoth, but..."

"I doubt it does any damage," says Kassi, though her eyebrows lift in
surprise. "Lyss doesn't talk t'my brood, but she barely talks to anyone.
Hasn't for Turns and Turns. Can't recall Kisai or Kaisan ever saying that
Tear bespoke them, but 'tis the sort of thing they just might keep to
themselves as a secret." She ruffles and shuffles the cards again while
talking. They're clearly a vintage set: the faces on the cards are mostly
no one he'd be familiar with, the Weyr suit stocked with persons from
Benden long ago. "What is it you're looking t'buy with m'marks this time?"

M'tri shrugs, glancing at her shuffling and then at Erisan alternately.
Keeping an eye out, just in case Marcus decides to, you know, throw him
down the ladder or something. Erisan, does, after all, have the
inquisitiveness of a two year old. "Thinking about buying something nice
for Lani. You know, we work all the time, and it's been a while since we've
really done anything together. Not to mention, that thing over there -" a
nod towards Erisan - "has an uncanny knack for knowing just when the mood
is right and exactly how to ruin it."

It probably says something sad about Pernese parents that Marcus can be so
tolerant, almost as if he's had to put up with toddlers in his bar more
often than he cares to think about. Kassima's eyes gleam as a thought
strikes. "You could mayhaps send him t'stay with his Great-Grandmum Saiya
for awhile. I'm thinking Is might like and encourage the notion. Whether
Lani would, now--" She won't speculate. Just snicker, and pull a quarter
mark from her belt pouch to wager once the cards are dealt. "'Tis a sweet
sort of thing t'do; d'you know what you want t'buy? Foods, clothes, jewels?
Gold latrines?"

"Gold latrines, of course, but the family thing won't allow for it. I
haven't the slightest clue -- maybe we'll just go out somewhere, the two of
us, and keep Erisan with someone for a while." He ponders
great-grandparents, grandparents, obscure strangers whose name he happens
to know. None of them really ring a bell, and there's also that, "I'm not
sure what Lani wants either; I just want her to get some rest, really.
Or...you know, not get any rest at all, depending on how drunk I can get her."

"Great-Grandmum Ryialla... shells, *Great-Grandmum* Ryialla... might want
t'spend some time with him too, although if'n you leave him with her I'd
nay lay marks against his learning a *whole new* set of colorful phrases."
Right, like that'd deter M'tri. Kassi must not really think so; her
eyebrows wiggle. "And Lanryi would probably appreciate time too. That's the
beauty of grandparents. They *want* you t'foist children off on 'em, at
least occasionally. Trii, you do realize you're telling your husband how
much you want t'sex up your mistress--right?"

Kassima adds with mock-grumpiness, "I never hear you planning a vacation
for *me* so you can enjoy m'studliness properly. Slut. Strumpet. Lightskirt!"

M'tri is taking time to think. "Well, there's no shortness of
babys--Lightskirt! Now, that's one step to far you rotten husband! Maybe if
I didn't have suspicions on you I'd stick around more often! But nooo, you
have to have all those lovely women, the ones that are prettier than me,
all around all the time, and make me feel inferior. Hmph! Lightskirt, you
say; see how long your married to me. You'll miss me when I'm gone." A
quarter mark goes on the table now for him too, ante delayed, and he looks
at his card with false tears brimming in his eyes.

Kassima pauses in the action of downing half her Monsoon to just *look* at
M'tri, expression droll unto dry. "Y'know full well there's nay woman for
me, save you," she drawls. "Nay man for me these days, either. That's one
charge you can't fairly mirror." Oh, she knows it's all still part of the
game; she'd have to know, but it doesn't stop her from finishing off the
rest of her drink in a single gulp and fixing her cards with an almost grim
stare. "You're so busy boffing everything that rides bronze around you that
'twill scarce know the difference," she musters the humor to sniffle, then
slides a full mark into the pot.

M'tri says seriously, more to his cards and the mark he meets than to
Kassi, "I'm not boffing -anything- lately. This fatherhood thing is for the
wherries." He casts a glance that would be baleful towards Marcus and
Erisan, but it immediately softens, especially at the sight of Erisan, who
has scrambled up the stool and is staring the bartender down with a wide
grin, begging perhaps for more juice or maybe something to eat, or maybe
even the meaning of life. "I've accidently taken an oath of celibacy, and I
wouldn't undo it. I've been broken."

"You're just lucky that you didn't knock any of those bronzers up *too*."
Kassima winnows three cards from her hand, drawing replacements. "Imagine
your time shortage then. You can find time, Trii--or make time--you *have*
to; they'll take it all if'n you let them, and never really appreciate it.
They're children. 'Tis what they do." She's not bitter, just
matter-of-fact... and there's a glance towards Erisan and a smile of her
own, unbidden. "You've a lady who loves you. Unless she's nay wanting t'lie
with you, your straits just aren't that dire." Sudden amusement blooms on
her face. "Or is this all your way of trying t'angle an offer t'watch him
for an evening now and then out of me?"

M'tri looks mildly affronted, but humor flickers through his eyes. "I
didn't have any intention of making you baby sit...but now that you've
brought it up...Err -does- wuv his Aunt Kassi." He winks, discards all but
one card, and waits for his replacements with a grin and a swig of the
second drink, which he's going at much slower than Kassi.

Kassima slides four cards across the table to M'tri. "Let's talk payment,"
she suggests, but there's a sly humor to it that could mean she's joking.
Maybe. Possibly. "I adore your wee lad and relish the thought of teaching
him so many, many things you might nay want him t'know, but I do have
children of m'own--" So only three of them are small anymore. Details! "Two
marks," she adds, flipping the wooden circles into the pot: her wager,
apparently, and not her babysitting price.

M'tri hmms, one brow raising in silent question. A price. "It would only be
once, really; a little goes a long way. Or, well, it should, in theory."
M'tri eyes the pot, eyes his cards, and then drops two marks in as well,
not raising. "I wouldn't want you to raise him or anything. And I'm sure
Lani wouldn't have that, not that you're not a great ma."

"Mmm-hmm. Remind me t'tell Lani how you thought one evening with her would
be enough t'hold you for awhile. Really, Trii--such golden blackmail
material, and 'tisn't even m'Turnday!" Kassi taps the edges of her cards
against the table. "I can't see her going in for that, nay. Still. Isn't a
night with your lady worth *something* t'you?" She punctuates this question
by displaying her hand, with a flourish: trip sevens.

M'tri thinks for a moment. "If she wasn't worth something to me, she
wouldn't be living in my weyr, and I wouldn't have stolen candy sticks for
her when she was pregnant, and I wouldn't have refrained from telling her
she looked sort of like a herdbeast in that last month, but a cute
herdbeast with a nose that wasn't runny and ears that weren't so big. What
is it you want, exactly?" M'tri takes one last look at his hand, and his
complaint is a simple one: "Play with cookies, I'll beat you every time,
but start putting marks into it, and I'm a goner. Woe is me, woe, woe." He
makes a blowing sound of eloquent exasperation, tossing the cards down
face-down and pushing the pot to her. "Pair of fours," he announces of his
hand, without showing any proof.

Kassima doesn't do a very good job of hiding her grin. "More blackmail.
This is like Turnday and Turnover all rolled into one. If'n ever I want you
gelded that comparison should come in handy. What do I want?" She has to
think about this. The bargaining was more reflex than anything; everything
has its price, she always demands something, if only the entertainment
inherent in the haggling itself. Faced with the question, the good humor
slowly fades from her expression. "Marks. I suppose. I really... I can't
think of aught else that I want. Let me see those--" She reaches for the
abandoned cards, the better to get a peek.

M'tri doesn't argue, nor does he try to block the cards for more than a
second, however much he'll assert, "If I had something, don't you think I'd
show you? And gloat?" A shrug, and the bluerider collects the rest of the
cards off the table, starting to shuffle them together. Another glance over
his shoulder checks on Erisan, who has finally gotten his juice, no doubt
on his father's tab, and is sipping contently, watching Marcus mix this
drink and that with flair. "Marks seems fair enough, I suppose."

"Nay if'n you thought it could somehow be t'your advantage later t'reveal
that you actually had a Full Hold and fooled me the whole time." Kassi's
such a trusting little soul. Passing the cards back to him, she takes up
her third drink to set to work on it with a will. "Actually," she recalls,
"liquor might also do well. Didn't really think of that since I could just
go buy it with marks, but 'tis always good t'have more. So long as 'tis
decent stuff. None of this Tillek swill or Brown Dragons."

Regarding Kassi longwise, another quarter of a mark is thrown into the pot,
mid-shuffle. "Not that I've even talked it over with Lani, yet, but I'm
sure we'd figure something out. They're not taking half a month's pay from
me yet, at least." The dealing of cards, while not as practiced as Kassi,
is swift. "Note to self: No Tillek swill."

Kassima tosses in her ante, a half-step after him. "'Yet.' You say that as
if'n you think they're going t'do so; what'd you *do*, or is it nay a
question of doing?" A black brow arches in inquiry. Although she takes up
her cards, she gestures to him rather than betting: his turn to be first to
act.

"I just...kinda miss being with her, alone. Talking or whatever." That
seems to be all the bluerider is willing to give. Maybe he fears getting
mushy. "Anyways, it's kind of nice to do things for people you love, right?"

Kassima slants a long look across the table at him. Her half-smile has a
bit of an edge, when it comes; but her nod is understanding. "Aye. You
would. It makes sense that you'd want it and want t'do something for her.
A'course that's nice; couldn't be otherwise, could it? So... mayhaps a skin
of wine or something per evening spent sitting, if'n you still want
t'bargain, and we'll call that good enough."

"I'll give you three if you'll watch him the one night I make plans," M'tri
says, swearing as solemnly as anyone ever has. "He's really not any
trouble, unless you've got company and you want quiet. If you want him to
be noisy, he'll fall asleep." Paradox. "Raise three." The marks fall into
the pot mid conversation, and he adds, "Thanks, Kassi."

"I'm nay going t'say nay t'more than I asked for. Three, then, unless that
night turns out t'be one of the children's Turndays or something and *I*
have plans--but that's unlikely. M'children are the only company I often
have. I doubt they'd mind him." Kassi frowns at her cards. Her brow
furrows, a line appearing in its center. "What've you got, four Aces? I'm
in. Against m'better judgment." She nudges the marks into place. "You're
welcome... just don't tell Lani I'm a soft touch for a man who wants t'be
with his weyrmate. Or tell anyone else, for that matter."

M'tri beams. "Kassi? Soft? Never say it." He drops two cards to the
tabletop, eliminating the possibility of four aces. Hastily, he fetches
replacements, and waits patiently for Kassima to discard her own hand. In
the meanwhile, it's all the better to work closer towards inebriation, and
he starts in on the tunnelsnake.

Kassima finds a grin for him. "Never in a million Turns." It takes her
awhile to discard; she looks over her hand for a long time, mulling, but at
last she drops just one. Her only reaction to its replacement is a bit of
an eyebrow twitch and a gulp of her drink, but the latter may well have
nothing to do with the hand at all. "Don't think this means you can
*always* get me t'do things for you, either. There's only so far that I'm
willing t'go t'accomodate m'wife sleeping with somebody else." Pause. "Talk
about phrases I never thought I'd say."

M'tri shakes his head. "Nah. Just this once, I promise. After that we'll
use the loving grandparents, if we need to. My mum wants to see him, and so
does Pa. And, like you said, always Lani's parents and grandparents." He
gives her the card she was waiting for, and in the same pause puts two more
marks in the pot.

"Methinks you'll have little trouble getting them t'help you. I'sai does
love his children--granted, he might well have learned some new words from
*Is*, too, when you get him back, or some new activities that have t'do
with placing unfortunate things in your boots, but that's the chance you
take--" Kassi's being so helpful, isn't she? Another grin flashes,
fleeting; before it's gone, she's oh-so-nonchalantly sliding four marks of
her own towards the center.

M'tri watches those marks carefully. "Nothing worse," he decides, "than
what we teach him ourselves. After all, Lani is her father's child."
Himself, he rolls one mark over his fingertips thoughtfully, looking at the
four newcomers to the pot, and after a good minute of thinking it over,
finally drops his own two inside, remarking, "Let's see what you got."

Now Kassi smiles a real, true smile. "This is a truth. And you--are you.
With all the specialness and weirdness and warpedness that it implies."
Playing coy, she cups her cards close: "I'll show you mine if'n you show me
yours, darling." However, her attempt to shoot a steamy look across the
table is... comical, at best, and she doesn't keep it up long before
showing a low flush of Holds: two, six, seven, ten, Holder.

"Aww, that's sweet Kassi," M'tri says with a bat of the lashes. "At least
I'm not someone else; you know, I worry about that." Sarcasm, of course. He
looks at her cards, bites on his lower lip, sighs a melancholy sigh, and
opens his hand for visibility. Four aces it's not; four kings, it is, and a
three of weyrs.

"Worry, or hope? Isn't there anyone you'd like t'be? Methinks sometimes I'd
like t'be Lessa, if'n only because her life was probably interesting all
the time--" Kassi breaks off the thought as she takes in his hand. "Oh,"
she sighs. "Oh, you *suck*. You really do. And nay in the good way. Just
promise me you'll buy Lani something with m'marks, won't you?"

M'tri nods -- "I'll buy her something nice." -- as he collects the marks
and puts them in his little pouch. About to pull another ante from it, he
takes a pause, as though just realizing something. Erisan has been quiet.
Awfully quiet, in fact. Juice can't keep a toddler happy for long, M'tri
knows this from experience, and so he looks once more towards the stool his
son inhabits. Only, now no one inhabits it, because Erisan has slipped on
out of it and curled on the floor beneath it, thumb in his mouth. "Hey,
kiddo," M'tri calls, and Err doesn't stir. "Erisan." A quick whistle, and
the little boy rouses groggily, stretching and repositioning so to look at
his father. "Hey, hon, you ready to go home? We'll get Daikoth and hop on
back?" A wide yawn and slow nod is his answer; the prospect of going home
at least gets Err to his feet, and he wanders tiredly to his dad's open
arms, rubbing a fist in his eye. M'tri plucks the lad off the ground and
sets him in his lap as he clears off the table. The rest of the cards into
the deck, and the deck passed off to his favorite greenrider. "Looks like
that's cut our games off, Kassi. Don't need him telling his mum he was
sleeping on the floor, too."

Awwww. Watch Kassi melt at that sight, undone a little even after all this
time and so many spawn of her own by the sight of one sleeping on the
floor. "He's beautiful," she tells Trii in an undertone, "sincerely. I know
I've said it often but it bears repeating. 'Twill bring you some cookies
when I deliver your Da's winnings t'him, kiddo." Lani's sure to love her
for that. She takes the cards, slides them back into her pocket, and
agrees, "Better t'get him into a bed. We can gamble and drink any time.
You'll let me know when 'tis you need me t'look after him?"

"Negative, we'll just drop him on your ledge with a mark tied to his neck
and run. Of course, I'll tell you. I'll send Marla first or something."
M'tri crosses his heart before rising from his seat, saying, "It's been
fun, Kassi. And thanks again; we'll see you later." And then, tired as he
is, and falling asleep on Daddy's shoulder, Erisan raises a hand and waves.
"Night Aunta Kassi," he says, sleepily, even as M'tri heads for the exit.
In a few moments, the pair is gone, and no doubt before they reached the
lower level, Erisan was snoring.

Kassima delivers an empty threat: "If'n she steals something shiny from
m'weyr t'take back t'Daikoth, Trii, so help me...." One finger is waggled,
just for emphasis. "It really has. Give Lani a hug for me, if'n you would,
and Daikoth a scritch." She'll blow Erisan a kiss herself, waving after the
duo before setting to the task of finishing her drink and tidying the
table. Another night she might stay and drink herself insensate, but she's
been cheered enough, tonight, to give that a skip.