-------------------------------------------------------------------------- M'rgan and A'lex: True Love Forever? Date: March 25, 1998 Places: Telgar Weyr's Living Cavern and Southern Bowl; High Reaches Weyr's Upper Skyspace, Western Bowl, and Living Cavern Game: PernMUSH Copyright Info: The World of Pern is copyright(c) to Anne McCaffrey l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kassi's Note: It never fails. Just when Kassi has a perfectly pleasant, social evening at the High Reaches planned on her itinerary, things go awry when Mart inexplicably starts to freak out. Of course, that's not precisely how it happened; you'll have to read for yourself to see the true story. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll thank Faranth you aren't Mart--and perhaps you'll wind up staying tuned for the next episode of... the Torment Zone. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Log: You walk past the lintel and into the wide living cavern. Taral enters from the Bowl. Taral says "'Evening, Kassima." Taral nods to the unknown person. "Hi, I'm Taral." "At Boll, you can get really sloshed--at Boll, you won't even give a shard; at Boll, the glow's on, but nay anyone's home," Kassi carols cheerfully, looking fairly pleased for someone who's carrying enough hides to give a runnerbeast a hernia. "Evening, Nikh, Taral, Pierron, all." Whoa. If she said hello to Pierron, she *must* be in a good mood. Maylia walks in from the bowl. N'kshar yawns as he takes a seat, waving a hand over a recently poured mug of klah. "G'deve wingmate." He says toward Kassi as she arrives, giving a nod to Taral. "And Maylia, g'deve." He adds as the greenrider enters. Maylia hurries in, jacket held over her head, and water dripping down her braid. "Evening, all!" She calls, doing her usual. Heading straight for klah. Kassima plunks the hernia-inducing hides down on a table, dusting off her hands. "When you can say to yourself, 'I nay longer have any hidework t'do this sevenday,' it inspires a most satisfactory feeling," she informs anyone who might care to listen. "When you combine that with, 'This may mean I can go travelling somewhere safely tonight without a guilt trip,' 'tis even better. The question is, where t'be going? Ista, t'see the eggs? High Reaches, for this month's dinner delights? Ah, the choices! G'deve t'you too, Maylia." N'kshar alternates blowing on his klah with cooling it by waving air at it. "How have you been faring as of late?" He asks, no specific person targeted by his question. Maylia heads to join Kassi and Nikh, cradling her mug between her hands. "Ista? If you head there, care for some company?" she asks as she takes a seat. No alternative motivation there, really. "If anybody's goin' anywhere, I'm coming with." Nikh remarks over his slowly cooling klah. Kassima slides a grin towards Maylia. "Nay 'tall. Who would I be to object? Anyone who cares t'travel with me would be welcome, whenever-- though if'n 'tis to Ista, I'd ask that you give me time t'pick up Khari." Smiling, the Wingsecond filches a tall glass of citron from a passing tray. "I've nay seen the eggs since the clutching's beginning, have you?" Maylia doesn't bother to wait for her klah to cool before sipping it. It's hot, but she's eagerly drinking it anyways. "I've peeked in now and then, but that's aabout it. Kassima adds on the heels of that statement, "As to how I fare, the answer is, indeed, 'Fair.' Turnday commissions that will surely leave me beggared for a Turn are starting t'be completed, Kay and Khari are back t'health, Khari's mostly on solid food now, Kay's been helping me t'dye wrapping- cloth, Lysseth's just pleased that warmer weather is coming, and--the most important thing--nay more hidework for a bit. Life is good! You're quite welcome t'come, Nikh, if'n we do indeed go." Maylia shrugs to N'kshar, smiling. "Well enough, considering. And yourself?" At the mention of turnday gifts, the greenrider grins. Kassima asks of Maylia, "You've seen 'em, you said... I'd heard about there being thirty-four; were any of 'em truly spectacular? Beyond the fact that they're dragon eggs, I mean. Some spectacularness is a given." Maylia takes a deep gulp of her klah, swirling it between swallows. At Kassi's question, she grins. "Well, I've not seen enough clutches yet for them to be anything but spectacular. And, after all, I'm a bit biased as well. But, I'd say that most of them are truly amazingly beautiful." N'kshar looks at his klah with a questioning look. "Aye, I'd like that. I think I just need to get out a bit, that's all." He slides his klah away from him, getting a slightly distasteful look on his face. R'val enters from the Bowl. R'val wanders in, "Evenin', gang..." Kassima chuckles, unable to do anything but agree with *that* sentiment. "Aye... all dragon's eggs are." Setting her citron glass down and staring into its depths for a moment, she asks, "When should we go, then? And where to? There's really nay reason we couldn't sweep over to Ista and then join the 'Reachians for dinner. I'd assume," she grins, "that your noon sweeps are done by now, Nikh. Was all as it should have been?" N'kshar nods his head slightly in response to his wingmate's question. "Aye, everything was as usual. As is usually the case." He remarks with a slight sigh. N'kshar gives a wave over in the direction of R'val. "Heya." Kassima quirks a half-smile. "Better tedium than unpredicted Threadfall, though, you must admit. If'n you're truly bored, I can always advise that L'cher be sent to sweep with you. Keeping him out of trouble should liven up your life considerably." R'val smiles amiably at N'kshar as he fills his mug with klah and finds a seat. N'kshar chuckles at that. "No, it's not that." He says, calling for some wine. "How're you, R'val?" Kassima taps one fingernail against her glass, considering. "What is it, then? If'n you don't mind speaking, that is... oh! That reminds me. Did that lady-friend of yours Impress at the 'Reaches? I thought I heard that she did, to a green, but I could be mistaking the names." N'kshar inhales a long breath of air, pouring himself a glass of wine from the wineskin delivered to him. "Aye, she did." He says gravely. "To green Gezilth." Kassima snaps her fingers, nodding in satisfaction. "That was the one. She's the green 'twas chanting should go t'Kena, but 'tis better-- naturally!--that things went as they did. If'n we went t'Reaches, I suppose you might see her... I need to ask a favor of Mart, m'self. Nay so warm as Ista, but it might prove interesting... if'n you're still inclined to go?" Raising the glass of citron to sip, she arches one dark eyebrow at her wingmate. N'kshar perks up visibly at this, giving a quick nod. "I've been looking for a good excuse to go down there. However, I'm not sure that I'm allowed to see her yet. Have they let 'em out yet?" Kassima sets her glass down on the table, and shrugs. "They don't keep 'em in, at the 'Reaches. Visitors are welcome from almost day one... if'n a class isn't in session, a'course. If'n naught else, tonight's the night of their Weyr dinner--the food might prove adequate reason for having travelled, if'n she's nay about." N'kshar nods to himself, polishing off his glass of wine quickly. "Aye, it would. Well, count me in then." Kassima gulps down her citron with just as much haste, setting it to the table with a faint *tink*. "Then," she suggests, getting to her feet and pulling on her gloves, "shall we, ere all the food's been plundered?" It's not hard to tell where her true purpose in this trip lies. R'val walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl. N'kshar nods and stands, removing his jacket from his chair, pulling it on. "Aye, let's." You walk down the short tunnel and out into the bowl. You place one hand on Lysseth's neck and she warbles down at you fondly. You grin and scratch her eyeridges once before climbing up onto her lower neckridges, using the riding straps and Lysseth's thoughtfully offered foreleg. <*> N'kshar comes out of the short tunnel from the living cavern. <*> N'kshar easily makes the climb onto Azeth, using her extended forelimb. The green regards him with a croon and slowly whirling eyes, receiving a loving thump on the side. Kassima buckles her straps securely, giving them the habitual testing jerk to ensure that they're tight. Pulling on her helmet, but not bothering to tuck her long braid underneath it, she yells over, "Ready t'go?" <*> From atop Azeth, N'kshar straps himself in securely, giving Azeth an affectionate pat on the neck. "Ready." Kassima nods, pausing just a moment before signalling Lyss to go aloft. "Meli will be joining us," she calls over, then nudges her dragon towards the skies. <*> Lysseth springs from the ground, the air from her wings churning up dust as she takes to the skies. You spring into the air and catch the thermals rising from the bowl floor to carry you aloft. The rim of the bowl falls away from you and you soar into the open skies. <*> Azeth flies up from the northern half of the bowl. <*> Juliath flies up from the southern half of the bowl. <*> Lysseth disappears into Between. Between You gasp as the icy black nothingness of Between surrounds you! You hear nothing, see nothing, and feel nothing. The trip takes five heartbeats... Black... Blacker... Blackest! You suddenly emerge... <*> Lysseth emerges from Between with a blast of cold air! <*> On the Star Stones, Ulanoth warbles a greeting to Green Lysseth of Telgar Weyr. <*> Azeth emerges from Between with a blast of cold air! <*> On the Star Stones, Ulanoth warbles a greeting to Green Azeth of Telgar Weyr. <*> Juliath emerges from Between with a blast of cold air! <*> On the Star Stones, Ulanoth warbles a greeting to Green Juliath of Telgar Weyr. <*> Juliath whuffs at the 'lizard as she glides on a current. Kassima waves belatedly over to Meli, even as Lyss does her best to deafen anyone in the area with her resounding trumpet of greeting and identification to Ulanoth. Folding her wings, she darts down to the lower west. You wing down in the bowl, towards the west wall. You fly down to land gently on the ground. <*> In the sky directly above, Azeth flies down to land gently on the ground. <*> In the sky directly above, Juliath flies down to land gently on the ground. You slide off of Lysseth's neck to land beside her easily. She rumbles, cocking her head down at you, and you rub her eyeridges gratefully. Astride Juliath, Meli pulls her helmet from her head, her short hair standing straight out momentarily, until she smooths it back down with a gloved hand. Unbuckling, she deftly slides down her green, helmet in hand. Meli slips smoothly down from Juliath's neck to her foreleg and to the ground, giving her a gentle caress. In the bowl, to the east, Riell looks up as she hears bugling and then watches them land. From atop Azeth, N'kshar gives a careful look about before sliding down off his lifemate. N'kshar slides down Azeth's side with the help of her extended forelimb, and gives the dragon an affectionate thump on the side. Kassima swings down from Lysseth's neck with ease, tossing her helmet onto a convenient strap-peg and stuffing her gloves into a pocket first chance. "Ah, High Reaches," she murmurs. "Home of some of Pern's wickedest riders and finest cuisine--at least, so I hope. Will it be the living cavern for us? Unless you want t'be seeking out your lady-friend, Nikh." In the bowl, to the east, Riell moves closer to Gezilth and watches, trying to see who has come to visit. Lysseth> I bespoke Juliath with << Don't you just love the sweet sensation of evil in the morning? Even if it isn't morning? >> "Lady friend?" Meli echoes. "Nikh's got a lady friend?" Dragon> Juliath bespoke Lysseth with << I can always smell... I mean sense... the evil near you, SkinnyButt >> N'kshar cranes his neck a bit, looking eastward at a familiar looking figure standing near a small green. "No, I think I've found 'er already. You two head on." He says, giving a quick look back at Meli, sure that Kassi will be more than happy to explain whatever there is to explain. Kassima winks at her wingmate, rather insouciantly. "Oh, aye. One Riell, green Gezilth's weyrling by name. Mayhaps we should leave our comrade t'seek her company whilst we endeavor t'find the perfect culinary delights... and, hopefully, the brownie. I've still that favor to ask him." Kassima laughs as her mind is read, apparently. "All right, then! Shall we, Meli?" she asks of her once fellow-weyrling. "Our dragons will nay doubt entertain themselves with never-ceasing bickering. 'Tis what they do best." Meli grins, though she quickly hides it. "Weyrlin', huh? Ah, tha's too bad, Nikh. Two turns can seem an eternity sometimes, if y'know wha' I mean..." she trails off with a wink. Lysseth> Juliath senses that Lysseth snorts annoyance at her rider's comment. << It is *not* what we do best. Is it? >> Riell wanders over from the eastern side of the bowl. Gezilth waddles over from the eastern side of the bowl. And that said, Meli nods to Kassi and steps off after her. You walk into the tunnel to the living cavern. Meli wanders into the cavern from the lower caverns. It is probably a good thing that M'rgan has his back to the bowl entrance or he'd probably have fled into the lower caverns by now. Meli brushes at non-existent dust on her clothes out of long habit, then looks up and gives Mart a welcome smile. "Telgar's duties, an' all that," is her general comment to the assembled. "Duties to the 'Reaches and her queens!" hails a familiar voice with its distinct lower-Greystonian brogue. The greenrider to whom it belongs pauses at the entrance of the Cavern to happily inhale the scents of food. *Good* food. Not-ordinary food. This is going to be a good visit. Seeing that Mart's back is turned, she holds one forefinger to her lips and decides to start stalking the brownrider as quietly as possible. Considering how many 'lizards are with her, as always, this isn't really saying much. Though M'rgan is deep in conversation with Rilsa, he nonetheless hears that 'Telgar's duties'. He's trained himself that way. A shiver goes up his spine and he spins around, causing a few drops of klah to fly out of his mug and splash onto his boots. He smiles as he spies Meli but as he sees Kassima his face falls. "Oh shards." Meli just quirks a brow, watching Kassi, then nods at Mart as he turns. She crosses her arms over her chest, relaxing into a casual stance, staying well out of reach of whatever might transpire. Kassima makes a face at Mart, now that her stalking's been spoiled. "Shells, Mart, what a way t'greet an old friend. You'd almost think you weren't happy t'see me, when I've come all this way just t'socialize with you, partake of your marvelous food, and ask one remarkably wee favor or two. Did I bring the Plague in with me unknowing or something? Have I strange, disfiguring boils on m'face that I've nay noticed yet?" Kassima pauses, considering. "Actually, I suppose the news I bring *might* prove t'be a bit distressing if'n you've nay already heard it. But that's beside the point. Are those mushroom turnovers I smell? Oh, and heya, Wingsecond." That's to Rilsa, along with a friendly nod. Meli gives a silent sigh, then steps toward the others. "Well met, Mart. Jus' ignore her, m'sure everything'll be fine, neh?" she quips, ending up beside Kassi and indicating her with a quick tilt of her head. Kassima mouths silently to Meli, 'You're nay helping.' Meli mouths just as silently back, 'I do the best I can' with a quite wicked smile. Rilsa smiles, "'Evening, Kassima." She walks past the group, murmuring, "You're in luck again, no tubers on the menu tonight." "Favor? Favor?!? From me?!!?" M'rgan clenches the mug very tightly but not quite enough to break it. Yet. As several pairs of weyrling eyes turn his way, the weyrlingmaster lowers his voice. "After what you did to me, you want me to do a favor for you?" He sighs and shakes his head at Meli. "I wish I could ignore her. I really do." Meli takes this moment to turn to Rilsa, smiling at her in a much more pleasant manner. "Meli, green Juliath's rider, well met, Wingsecond." Kassima scoops up a turnover, some vegetables, some soup, some cheese, and some cider with evident relish; *someone's* certainly hungry tonight. "Good fortune indeed," she agrees with Rilsa before sticking her tongue out at Meli in a fully undignified fashion. "Aye, Mart, I do. But I don't think 'tis one you'll mind granting at all. May I sit down? Thankee." Without more of a by-your-leave than that, she plops herself in a chair and picks up a fork to shake at the brownrider. "Besides, what have I done t'you lately? If'n you're still raving about the dress thing, don't you think you really should get over that by now?" Kassima belatedly snaps Mart a salute with the fork. Blessedly, there's not yet any food on it that might go flying off to smack the Weyrlingmaster in the face. Rilsa smiles, "Rilsa, rider of brown Corineth. Well met." She glances then at M'rgan, "I'll leave you to entertain these fine riders, Mart. After all, it would be horrible if they went back home with a bad impression of our hospitality." She winks at Kassi before heading out. Rilsa strolls outside to the bowl. "M'sure glad y'didn't do tha' _after_ y'mouth was full o'all of that," Meli mutters under her breath, after seeing Kassi's tongue in all its glory. Kassima again treats Meli to a sight of that extraordinarily glorious tongue, a sound 'pthbbbbbt' her response to the overheard comment. Meli takes the seat on the other side of Mart, effectively boxing him in. Leaning forward, she snags a roll and a slice of 'beast, combining the two into a sandwich. "Y'gettin' old, Kassi, nearly 26, t'be actin' like that." Then she punctuates her comment with her own raspberry. M'rgan's jaw drops open in shock at Kassima's audacity and he can only stammer a series of "Uh...Uh...Uh..." at her. He comes out of his shock, spinning around to try and stop Rilsa but it is already to late. His shoulders slump as she steps outside and slowly he turns back around to face Kassima and Meli. Kassima snorts at this very idea of Meli's. "The day I become mature is the day I'll have been in the final *between* with Lysseth for at least three Turns," she states primly before turning her absolute sweetest smile on Mart. This *can't* be a good sign. "Now, brownie. Really, the favor I'm here to ask is utterly innocent, and one that will spare both you and I a measure of future embarrassment. First, though, the news, since I can see you're so eager to hear it." She's surely not the first person to mistake dumbfounded stammering for eagerness, right? "Had you heard that Bree spawned a baby girl? Daviana, they're calling her." "Yes'm, ma'am wingleader ma'am," Meli replies, between bites. "Faranth, Kassi, jus' ambush'im w'it like that.: Kassima grins slyly at Meli. "I've m'reasons." One is probably better off not knowing what they are. It's unfortunate that one is almost certain to find out. More seriously, she adds, "And 'tis nay 'Wingleader' yet, nor may it be. P'tran's nay officially retired, remember... and I'm nay his only 'second; it could fall t'Jal." M'rgan sets the mug forcefully down on the table, ignoring the hot klah that splashes against his hand. "Kassi, if you think I'm ever going to forgive you for those firelizard eggs...What? When did that happen? A daughter?...What?! When did that happen? Wait, you're not a wingleader." His eyes flash towards Kassima's knot and he sighs in relief. "What?" Apparently that is his favorite phrase. Meli acts for all the world as if nothing is amiss, patiently chewing her meat and roll combination. Perhaps she's simply grown an immunity to Kassi and Mart's interactions. Perhaps she's just shardingly hungry. "I'm nay a Wingleader," Kassima agrees. "Yet. I'll keep you posted, so that you can know whether or nay t'thank your lucky stars personally and by name that you ride neither for Telgar nor Thunderbolt. When did it happen? A few sevendays agone. I have to admit, I've nay yet seen the lass, but word has it that she's as bonny as a new spring morn. And why shouldn't you forgive me for the eggs?" Turning one of Mart's old techniques against him, she gives him a look of injured innocence. "I was just trying t'help you t'become the evillest of all proddy brownriders. Isn't that what you've always wanted?" M'rgan lifts a hand to rub at his temple as he feels the muscles in his shoulders tightening, causing his shoulders to rise towards his chin. "Help!" he says quietly to Meli as he is overwhelmed by Kassima. "What /is/ going on?" Kassima nearly snorts a mushroom out her nose in laughter. Her shoulders shake with suppressed mirth as she industriously turns her attention towards her food, quite content to let Meli help the femaleman recover from his confusion so that she can hit him up for that favor. Meli blinks rapidly, fluttering her lashes. "Help? Wha's amiss, weyrlin'master? Makes perfect sense, neh? Bree had a baby girl. P'tran may retire, an' he's fingerin' th'ma'am here for th'wing. Kassi's tryin' t'snow you wi'that innocent posture, but since we both know how little practice she gets, I wouldn't worry 'bout it too much. An' th'roast beast is quite tasty t'night. New spices?" Kassima turns that look of injured innocence on Meli now, though it's somewhat ruined by the drop of vegetable-dip that's running down her chin. "Trying t'snow him? Would *I* do *that*? The turnovers are good, too, by the by. Mushroom and whiteroot, mmmm." M'rgan's hands flop bonelessly down onto the table top and he slowly sinks lower into his chair. That's a lot to absorb in a short amount of time. He stares straight ahead with blank eyes as he tries to make sense of it all. After about a minute he suddenly jerks upright. "I knew it was you who left those firelizard eggs." M'rgan says that accusingly. "Me?" Meli replies, feigning her best misunderstood expresion. Kassima wipes her chin with the back of one hand, and shrugs with the nonchalance of one who knew she'd be found out eventually. "Aye, 'twas. Kin helped. We couldn't think of anyone better t'give 'em to, so.... Have you thought of names for 'em yet?" Meli snorfs softly as Kassi doesn't quite play along, and finishes off her sandwich with a licking of fingertips. Kassima grimaces and shoots Meli an apologetic look, having not heard her over the crunching of veggies until it was too late. Ooops. "Names? Names?" M'rgan blinks in astonishment at Kassima as his voice approaches the highs it had when he was 9 turns old. "Names?? Do you know how much trouble I had with them? Have you ever tried to feed five hungry, screeching hatchlings at once? I thought I was going to lose my mind." Ah, well. More than one way to confuse a brownrider. "So, Mart, y'goin' t'have t'be celibate f'the next two turns, neh?" Meli chimes in. Followed closely on by, "Course, tha' doesn't count flights, an' then there's those 'lizards..." Meli begins ticking exceptions off on her fingers. "No. Just one turn," M'rgan replies to Meli surprisingly quickly and easily. Apparently it's a question he's either been asked before or that he's thought about a lot. He takes a single deep breath and releases it before nudging the Avalanche bluerider he was bothering before. "I don't suppose you have any wine on you. I think I could really use some right now," he murmurs to the man. Kassima just *beams* at Meli in admiration of that question, though she does her best to make sure Mart doesn't see her doing so. Her expression is as innocent as a newborn lamb's when she turns back to the brownrider. "Actually, I've tried t'feed more hungry, screeching hatchlings at once than that. Just wait until you've twenty of the creatures--or better yet, three score; then you'll see that five aren't so very bad 'tall. Are they growing up well? Rhi usually turns out good clutches, though Zhailene's and Elentari's can be a bit warped." Kassima's eyebrows fly straight up at the sound of *Mart* asking for wine. "You can drink now, brownie?" she asks in surprise. "Well, then, remind me t'send you a bottle from m'stores--as recompense, as 'twere. Which reminds me of that favor 'twas going to ask you...." She just never lets up, does she? Meli sniffs. "One turn... hmm. Seem t'recall it felt like five..." she mutters again. "Aie, Kassi, y'not goin' t'send him some o'that chartreuse stuff, are ye?" At the mention of 20 firelizards, M'rgan abandons his quest for the wine and instead begins a quest of a different kind. His eyes dart around the table but for some reason no knives seem to be around at that moment. Grabbing the spoon out of the bowl of sweetener, he waves it threateningly in Kassima's direction. "If you ever, ever, ever leave anymore firelizard eggs on my ledge...No. I don't drink. Although I can definitely see why some people do. There's a lot I'd like to forget..." He stares meaningfully at Kassima. "And whatever you want the answer is no." Kassima shakes her head to Meli. "Nay, though y'know the green stuff's better'n it looks. 'Twas thinking of some of that Black Gold I brewed for F'hlan's Turnday a few Turns back--d'you recall it?" That's dark enough to hide anything she might spike it with, after all. Hefting her fork, she parries Mart's spoon attack with ease. "I won't! On Lysseth's egg, I'll swear it!" Eyes narrow at his rejection of her favor. "Oh, I see. So you *are* going t'loan 'Lex your underwear if'n he asks?" Meli leans backwards, away from the brownrider. "Shells, man, how're y'goin' to last even one turn if y'already actin' this jittery?" Obviously it's all due to abstinence. After all, there's that Kassi-immunity messing with her head. Kassima turns her fork to shake it at Meli, now. "Hey! Are you claiming that celibacy does something odd to the mind?" Leave it to Ms. Celibacy Advocate Extraordinaire (when she's sober, anyway) to ask that one. M'rgan's response to Kassima's question is instantaneous. "No. Yes. No. Yes." But apparently confused. He chucks the spoon onto the table in front of Kassima and slumps back into his chair, crossing his arms in front of him like a petulant child. Meli just lifts a brow, staring back at Kassi. "I've heard tha' might be true," she replies. Reaching out a hand, she patpats Mart solicitously on the back. "There, there, Mart. Won' seem tha' long after all, m'sure. 'Side, you won't even see her most o'the time." As if being separated from Kena for that long were an advantage. Kassima's eyes narrow even further at that last answer being 'Yes.' Mart's petulance fazes her no more now than it might have when they were both teenagers at Ruatha; right now, it's her favor that she's concerned with. "All right. I just *have* t'ask. Why would you willingly loan 'Lex your underthings? Did he tell you about whatever nefarious plot he's cooking up? Are you in on it?" Kassi's tone suggests that whatever wicked plot this is, it's probably aimed at her; otherwise, she'd sound more amused than half-desperate to hear some good, solid denial right about now. M'rgan stares bug-eyed at Kassima for a second before uncurling his arms and animatedly thrusting his hands at her and then back at himself, shaking his head at the end of the gesture and pointedly turning his head away from her to look at Meli. Apparently it was a gesture of 'Am I speaking to you? I don't think so.' "Are you talking about Kena? Kena, my former weyrmate? Kena the weyrling? Kena whom I see every day? That Kena?" Kassima eyes Mart's hands as one might a striking tunnelsnake. "Meli," she pleads, "will you *please* convince him nay t'loan 'Lex his underwear? Please? 'Tis important! Besides, what if'n the rumors floating around Telgar get back here? That would *hardly* help improve matters. C'mon, Mart," she cajoles, exerting every ounce of charm she has. This isn't something she gets a lot of practice at. "You don't want the whole world t'think you and 'Lex are lovers, d'you?" That should hopefully get his attention. Meli playfully slaps her forehead. "Oh, yeh, forgot, weyrlingmaster. Well, s'not the same t'lecture someone as it is t'... ah, well, tha's enough of that, neh? M'sure you'll handle it fine, no problems a t'all." She snags a redfruit from a passing tray, and turns towards Kassi. "Wha's wrong w'his underwear? I seem t'recall he used t'display it out in the Ruatha courtyard often enough, or is tha' just a rumor?" Kassima shakes her head. "Nay, I remember that. But 'Lex has this plot in mind involving his underwear somehow. He tried t'strike a deal with me, see...." Leaning forward, she explains without the faintest heed for who might overhear, "'Lex tried t'make a deal with me that he'd go to a Gather in a dress if'n I'd go in Mart's underwear. I refused, a'course. But after the incident with...." Shooting a glance at Mart, she breaks off. "Well, after the last thing I pulled on him, I really doubt he'll be content t'let things just sit. 'Tis why I thought it couldn't do any harm t'try and convince Mart nay t'loan his underclothes." M'rgan definitely heard Kassima as usually his eyes don't hang a few inches outside of their sockets. With a deep swallow he manages to pull them back in so that they can instead swivel between Kassima and Meli until he gets dizzy. Face flushed, M'rgan rises shakily out of his seat, not saying a word to Kassima or Meli. Instead he heads over to the Weyrling Table. Placing his hands on the back of a chair, he leans towards them, telling the Weyrlings in his most serious voice, "You didn't hear any of that. Right?" Kassima watches Mart go with utter bemusement. It never ceases to amaze her how easily the brownrider gets flustered, even after so many Turns of dealing with some of Pern's more nefarious greenriders. "Wonder what his problem is?" she murmurs to Meli. Meli shrugs, chomping into her redfruit with a loud *crack*. A young weyrling looks up at M'rgan in all innocence, "Which part? The lovers or the underwear, sir?" "Isn't A'lex of Telgar a *bronze*rider?" one weyrling hisses to his tablemate, now seeing his Weyrlingmaster in a whole new way. Her cheeks red, another weyrling gapes at her Weyrlingmaster. She quickly looks down at her plate of food. Meli chomp chomps some more, then rises to her feet. "Well, s'late, an' I'm for headin' home to m'weyrmate," she says. "M'not a weyrling, after all." She glances back over at Mart, but he's apparently still busy glaring at his charges. M'rgan shoots a sharp glance at the one weyrling whose head wasn't bobbing vigorously. That weyrling must be a bit slow in the head. "You didn't hear /any/ of that." His blue eyes flick immediately to the hissing weyrling. "Because if you did hear it, I would be forced to put you on double duties for the rest of your existence. So I'd like to repeat that you /didn't/ hear any of that." "Bet he's got those pants with the little red hearts on 'em," one of the older female weyrlings starts to speculate, but she swallows her theory on the mention of double duty. "Yes, sir," she replies meekly. Kassima eyes that Weyrling, and then casts a speculative glance at Meli. One eyebrow arches. Silently, she mouths, 'Red hearts?' M'rgan slaps his hands against the chair back. "Good. I'm glad that we understand each other." Doing the best he can to muster his tattered and stomped-on dignity, the weyrlingmaster straightens, holding his chin up. Without another word he heads out to the bowl, leaving his untouched meal behind. The blushing weyrling looks up to stare at the older female. "Hearts?" she whispers in shock. Meli shrugs again, then tosses her fruit core into a trash receptacle. "I'd a'guessed stars, m'self. Anyway, m'off. Y'comin', or are you going t'eat some more?" Kassima gets to her feet, sighing with relief as her life doesn't seem to be forfeit after all. "At least he didn't scream like a woman and run this time," she comments. "And I still don't remember any red hearts. Aye, I'm coming--I'd best, ere temptation gets the best of me and I wind up landing some of these 'Lings in triple-duty or the like." M'rgan strolls outside to the bowl. Meli meanders outside to the bowl. You stroll outside to the bowl. M'rgan goes towards the eastern side of the bowl. Meli pulls on her helmet and gloves, and climbs up Juliath, with just a slight grunt of effort. Meli climbs smoothly up Juliath's extended foreleg and settles herself between the neck ridges, as the green gives a welcome rumble from deep in her throat. You place one hand on Lysseth's neck and she warbles down at you fondly. You grin and scratch her eyeridges once before climbing up onto her lower neckridges, using the riding straps and Lysseth's thoughtfully offered foreleg. <*> Lysseth springs from the ground, the air from her wings churning up dust as she takes to the skies. You leap into the sky.