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Great Balls of Fire


Date:  September 21, 2007
Place:  Igen Weyr's Main Beach
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:  This is the earliest of Kassi's Igen-era logs I'll be 
posting, so it gets to host the IC explanation.  Kassima rode for 
Benden Weyr for some undisclosed length of time.  She was glad to be 
home again, but once Thread returned she felt restless--Benden's 
range was so reduced she barely ever fought, and she had Turns of 
experience when half the riders facing it frequently had none.  With 
her son Kaswyn's health also failing in the Benden winters, she made 
the decision to transfer to Igen for at least as long as the Falls 
lasted.  That put her on the scene when twins Maygan and Agyar came 
by the Weyr's lake to play. :)

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The Log:

Maygan ambles over from the center of the bowl.

Agyar ambles over from the center of the bowl.

Maygan runs onto the beach sand, leaving the bowl's dryness behind. She has
a small blue fire lizard clinging to her neck, his wings flared out for
balance, and she's laughing, "Beatcha

Agyar arrives out of breath, having been caught near the tail end of the
herd making its way through the bowl. "Shoulda ... never given ... up the
ball," he decides, his own young bronze flapping circles around him and
complaining until he stops and provides a decent perch again.

It's evening, the best light is gone, but Kassima doesn't care. She's
abandoned her strap construction--the remaining pieces have been bagged and
set aside--but lingers in the cool of the lake, leaning against her green's
side and applying paint to a fidgeting 'lizard by the light of a glow.
"Your fault," she tells it. "If'n you hadn't moved--hold still. Shells and
shards if'n I'm doing it crooked again." The entering melee catches
Lysseth's attention enough to merit a drowsy, blue-eyed look.

Maygan sticks her tongue out in a pant, and then clamps it shut, wincing as
her fire lizard digs into her. She holds her rag doll and a red rag ball in
both hands. She spies the greenrider and her dragon, "Agyar. This beach? Or
the quiet one?"

Agyar kicks to a halt, spotting the ground hugging green dragon as its
movement calls attention to itself. "Duty, ma'am," he says politely, giving
the dragon a sketchy bow before looking around for the Rider.

Agyar shrugs, then, straightening up from the bow. "Don't matter," he says.
"As long as the lady green is okay with us running around some..."

Lysseth dips her head in as dignified a nod as a dragon can manage, and
either she gives her lifemate a mental nudge or Kassima gains a clue on her
own. She looks up from the wriggling blue and pushes the sunhat back from
her forehead. "We don't mind," she says. "Run as much as you like, 'tis
your beach."


Maygan:
An untidy collection of cloth, curls and eyes masquerading as a young girl.
Maygan's long hair is confined by a braid with a cream cloth coif above it,
but tendrils of curly auburn escape. Her eyes are an indeterminate shade of
brown, and her body is an awkward combination of angles and curves as she
makes her way through growth spurts. She wears a dark brown smock top that
reaches to her upper thighs, and trous of brown canvas with reinforced
knees. At a guess she might be about 9 Turns old.


Agyar:
An untidy collection of cloth, snarls, and eyes masquerade as a young boy.
Agyar's hair, despite its less-than-shoulder length, manages to continually
find its way in his eyes, causing him to push his fingers through it to get
it out of his way -- which results in considerable snarling. Though is eyes
are an indeterminate shade of brown, they are very curious, and placed in a
face that suggests an angular future. The rest of his body is an awkward
assembly of angles as he struggles through growth spurts. Wisely, he's been
clad in a damage- and stain-resistant light brown smock top that reaches to
his upper thighs, and trous of a darker brown canvas with reinforced knees
and seams. At a guess, he might be about 9 Turns old.


Maygan mutters to Agyar as she sets her rag doll up to one side where the
doll can watch, "'Kay. Now one of us has to throw the 'Thread'...and then
the other's the dragon, right? And flames with the ball?"

Agyar turns towards the voice, and dips another bow. "Thank you, Rider.
Don't mean to disturb you." Hey, he's been told what's polite. Following
Maygan down the beach a little, he nods, thumping the thread-rope down. "I
suppose, yeah, sure. I still don't agree with throwing rope. I don't think
people would be all -that- mad..."

Maygan looks around the beach and tosses the red raggedy 'flame' ball at
Agyar with perhaps more force than is strictly necessary, "Tag! You're it!
And if you wanna throw at the rider, you go ahead. I'll be right behind
you. Far behind."

Kassima considers the fire-lizard and the option of finishing its bands
versus that of watching whatever the children plan to do, and the
fire-lizard loses out, though he'd probably call it winning. He wings away
and up to Lysseth's neckridges with a trill of victory. "You aren't," Kassi
assures, ruefully amused. "'Twasn't getting very far any road. You," this
to both of them, "are playing Threadfall?" Pause. "Don't flame me, please.
Dying is nay on tonight's schedule."

Agyar laughs at his twin, catching the ball and tossing it for a moment.
"If we go that way, I will. But thrown rope isn't as random as people..."
He pauses, turning to the approaching rider and giving a quick bow. "Yes,
ma'am. Or trying to, sort of. My original idea was to have a bunch of kids
flying as dragons," and he demonstrates how, tucking the red rag ball (with
parts of it fluttering free, to give a flame effect) under his chin, then
flapping his arms a little. "We'd go around the Bowl in formation, and
anyone who crossed our path was Thread, and whoever's area it was would
flame them." One hand moves to a sort of formalized position, elbow braced
at his stomach, hand tucked right under the 'flame', then throws it in a
shot-putting sort of movement. Not hard, but directly in front of him,
maybe ten feet or so. "Then pick up your flame, and you can *between* --
run -- back into formation." He looks embarrassed at the end, explaining
-this- to an actual Rider who actually fights actual Thread on an actual
dragon.

Agyar kicks at the sand, adding, "Maygan thinks we'd upset anyone we
'flamed'."

Maygan waits impatiently, kicking at the sand with one booted foot, as she
adds, "Except -I- told him we'd get in -trouble- if we threw flames at
people. And some of the riders can run much faster than we can."

Kassima winces by reflex. "Kassima, if'n 'twould? Or Kassi, I don't care
which, but never 'ma'am.' I'm thinking that aside from the part where this
involves random passerby, 'twould be a good plan." A touch of drollness
there. "You couldn't get some of the children t'be the Thread? Because I
have t'be agreeing with Maygan: getting pelted with balls at random is a
rare idea of a good time."

Agyar nods glumly. "If everyone -knew- about it, maybe it wouldn't be so
bad," he suggests, "but it wouldn't be like -everyone- would be flaming
you. One person, maybe two." He mulls this over, then admitting, "Herder
Tuttel would take three, though. He'd be a -big- clump of Thread."

Maygan mutters, "Betcha we'd get a whipping." Then she says, more loudly,
"I guess I can be Thread. Or I can throw the rope bits. I don't wanna be a
dragon."

"If'n everyone knew about it 'twouldn't be bad at all. Here," Kassi amends.
"Or somewhere else easier t'be avoiding than the Bowl for those who don't
want t'play. I'd give it high odds that you'd at least get a screaming
as-is." There's a rumble from on high with a distinctly amused cast to it.
"Where do the rope bits come in?"

Maygan says "The rope bits are for Thread. Like for training weyrlings. I
got rope bits from the barracks. The end bits noone's using. And they've
got chalk on them. Like the long ones.""

Kassima bobs her head. "You'll throw them," she guesses, "and someone will
hit them with the ball, instead of hitting people? And the chalk would mark
the ball? They use chalk here." She mutters this last, more to herself than
to them.

Maygan nods excitedly, her braids bouncing, "Right. And if I throw them at
the dragons and they don't dodge, then they get 'scored!"

Agyar shrugs. "I guess. The rope was -her- idea." He still seems to think
this'd be a bad idea. "It'd be boring for -some- kid." He eyes his sister.
"Well, -most- kids. Aren't many who -want- to be Threadfall."

Maygan narrows her eyes, "If it's good enough for the Weyrlingmaster to do
it, I think it's good enough for anyone!"

"Weyrlings," says Agyar right back, heating up, "are -training-, an' he's
training them!! I just want to have fun!!"

"I don't know. The people throwing ropes in the Weyrling drills always seem
t'have a good time," Kassi offers. "Some sort of sadistic glee in covering
other people with paint, if'n you ask me. I'd prefer flaming m'self but
there's nay accounting."

Kassima squints at the two. "If'n she's willing t'take the part you think
is boring, and would have fun with it, what's the problem? She throws rope
at people, you throw a ball. Doesn't everyone win?"

Maygan grins, her brown eyes brightening at Kassima's comment. She stick
her tongue out at Agyar, "See?"

Agyar shuts up for a minute, wise enough to not shout at the Rider too. "I
guess," he agrees reluctantly. He ponders this glumly for a long minute,
then grins, invention sparkling in his eyes. "Though if the Weyrlingmaster
wanted, we could fly under the direction of, like, weyrling brownriders and
bronzeriders, and the other weyrlings could throw rope, an' if we got hit
we could fall out writhing, an' the Weyrlingmaster could see how the browns
and bronzes handle it an' stuff. Extra, like....?"

Maygan rolls her eyes, moving closer to Agyar, "The Weyrlingmaster's not
gonna have weyrlings play for us. C'mon, Agyar! Let's just -do- something.
I'm tired of talking."

Agyar hmphs, then smiles, tucks the ball under his chin and, flapping his
arms, goes soaring away as a dragon. Disturbed, the bronze Claws drops off
his shoulder and flaps into the air, giving short creels of complaint.

Kassima suggests, "Make it all the Weyrlings--we can all be Wingleaders
someday, y'know, but other than that I like the idea. 'Course, I'm nay a
Weyrlingmaster. It still sounds nay more weird than some of the things they
have 'em do--" A quick grin for Maygan. "Point, though, 'tisn't something
you can do right now."

Maygan catches hold of her blue's tail, unwrapping it from her neck.
Unhooking claws from her braids in what is becoming a practiced gesture,
she sets Tunnelsnake down. She frames her mouth with her hands, calling
after Agyar, "So am -I- Thread or are the -ropes-?"

Agyar sweeps around in a curve that bears more to large bronze or brown
than agile blue or green. "Let th' Rider decide!!" he calls back, then has
to stop 'cause he dropped the flame.

Maygan shifts her balance from foot to foot, casting a pleading look over
her shoulder to Kassima, "Can I be Thread this time? Not the rope bits? I
wanna run."

"Be Thread," Kassima decides generously, grandly. "Be Thread and get 'em!"

Maygan wriggles her arms strangely and trots forward, kicking up sand
behind her. She taunts, "You can't flame me if you aim at the -ground-!"

Agyar looks over at his sister, carrying no rope. Ohhh, boy. He tucks the
ball under his neck, and starts flying again, tilting hard to wheel towards
her. A look of concentration comes over his face as he tries to track in on
his sister, the Thread.

Kassima scootches about until she's got a better view of the proceedings.
One large and many small sets of dimly glowing eyes prove that Lysseth and
the swarm of fire-lizards, too, are in the mood for a bit of entertainment.
"Who should I root for?" the rider asks the dragon. "I mean, cheering for
Thread just feels wrong somehow...."

Maygan dodges from side to side, undulating arms almost a caricature of
Agyar's flapping 'dragon wings'. She skids to the left, and then, in a
fashion riders could only hope Thread could never do, begins a full-tilt
run at Agyar, "Ssssssssss!!!!!"

Agyar, spooked, bounds sideways a bit, then steels himself and continues
forward. Then, dropping his arm into 'throw position', he cups and flings
the flame, afterwards jumping sideways -- going *between*, you'd guess.

Kassima cheers them on by means of whistling--for who exactly may be vague,
but maybe it doesn't matter. She pulls off the sunhat to set it on the
beach and stretches her legs out in front of her, leaning back on her
hands. If she only had a snack she'd be set.

Maygan ignores the ball, which bounces off of her, and the 'Thread' changes
tack to head directly for the dragon as it blinks back from *between*,
coming in at ramming speed, "Sssssss!"

"Hey, I hit you!!" hollers Agyar, who then starts flapping away. Hey, he's
only got one ball. "You're supposed to be destroyed!!" He galumphs off,
sand kicking up behind him, trying to get enough distance to circle
decently around and retrieve his ball.

"You could've missed a strand or so," Kassima supposes. "It
happens--although it looked like a direct hit from here."

Maygan says "You only charred -part- of me!" She careens after Agyar,
picking up speed and going for broke, aiming right at Agyar's center, her
arms flung out in front of her."

Agyar either isn't as fast, or else is trying to fly, not plummet. With his
back mostly turned, he doesn't see Maygan's lunge, and goes tumbling down
with all four limbs flailing.

Kassima winces at the impact of boy with ground. "Oof," she says. "Methinks
this would be the part where we keen."

Maygan stumbles herself, recovers, then plops down on top of Agyar, arms
slapping out to cover as much of him as possible, "Dead!"

Agyar says "Wauugh!!" Agyar cries out, admittedly muffled as his sister
plops down and pins him face-down. "All right, I give. But I want it known
that I -did- flame you square and fair.""

Maygan rolls easily off Agyar and into the sand, spreading arms and legs
out. She laughs, "I know. But crashing was fun."

Kassima grins and reaches a hand up, idly, to meet and rub Lysseth's
descending chin. "If'n only flaming a patch made you safe for the rest of
the Fall. Alas, alas for the valiant dead."

Maygan moves arms and legs through the sand as she lies on her back,
meeting some resistance where the sand is wet and closer to the lakeshore.
Making sand patterns, she resembles a dragon digging a wallow, "What's
valiant?"

Agyar coughs, pushing himself up out of the sand, then thumping onto his
rear. "Blech. Cack. I hope it was me," he manage to say, spitting out some
sand.

"Brave. Heroic. When someone loses after showing courage and doing their
best, 'tis said they fought valiantly." Kassima tilts her head to one side.
"Someone can win and still be valiant, but the word isn't used as often
then. Seems t'me, at least."

Maygan says "Brave? He had his back turned! Though he did hit me pretty
hard.""

Maygan offers Agyar that much credit, as she grinds sand into her hair,
looking up at the sky.

Kassima tries not to grin. "Being brave and doing well aren't always the
same. Going up against something like Thread is brave by definition."
Lysseth hums a low note; it might be agreement, it might simply be pleasure
at having her muzzle scratched.

Agyar hmphs, shaking the sand out of -his- hair. "You ran right into it,"
he agrees. "But then you kept coming after me. So I had to try to circle
and get the flame back so I could finish you off, and ..." He shrugs, then
shakes his head vigorously. "Blah. Where'd the flame ball...?" Climbing to
his feet, he heads back along his path in search of the ball.

Maygan lies still in the sand, her stomach rising and falling peacefully,
recovered from the chase. Her brown smock makes her little more than a dark
lump on the sand in the evening. Finally, she levers herself up, shaking
her braids and sending sand flying, "I'm tired now."

"It's late," Kassima says, master of the obvious that she is. "Time for
sleeping soon enough, probably. Wonder if'n you could use smaller balls for
Thread and carry two or three."

Maygan brushes the back of her head, expelling more sand. She retrieves her
doll, carefully lifting her up in her arms, and her fire lizard only
slightly more carefully, and turns to Kassima, "And throw Threadballs at
the dragons?"

Kassima thinks about this. "Mayhaps. They'd all have t'be soft, loose balls
of cloth or the like. Red for flame and white for Thread or something." She
runs a hand over the crown of her head, scratching her scalp--a sympathy
itch, maybe, since she hasn't been laying in the sand. "D'you know anyone
with a rag-bag you could raid?"

Maygan squeezes Jane the doll tight, her brown eyes peering over the top of
Jane's yarn hair, "Stores has scraps. Saw 'em today. I'll check tomorrow.
Thanks for talking to us, ma'am!"

"I got Auntie Krysan to put the flame ball together for me," says Agyar,
coming back with the thing.

"Kassima," Kassi reminds, with half a smile rather than a wince this time.
"Or Kassi. You're welcome, the both of you. Thankee for letting me watch
your game." The greenrider nods to Agyar and says, "She'd likely help then,
aye?"

Maygan bobs a curtsey, sending her blue firelizard flailing his wings, and
then she heads off at a trot, "Don't be late for glows out, Agyar! Gonna
beatcha!"

Maygan leaves the beach, heading for the center of the Bowl.

Agyar shrugs. "Maybe. I guess. She seemed a little miffed that I wanted all
red, though, so I dunno." He smiles, and waves, tossing the red ball to
Maygan and heading over to pick up the tote full of rope. As he settles it,
his firelizard finally wings back onto his shoulder. "'Bye, Rider
Kassima!!" No, you're stuck with 'Rider' or 'Ma'am'. He was taught to speak
with courtesy and respect, and being on a first-name basis with a Rider he
just met, at -his- age, is tantamount to blasphemy. So he waves, and heads
after Maygan.

There's no protest at that level of formality; odds are Kassi's resigned to
not entirely getting her way. "G'night! G'luck when you talk to the
Weyrlingmaster," she wishes, waving after them.

Agyar leaves the beach, heading for the center of the Bowl.