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The Horror... the Horror....


Date:  January 13, 2000
Place:  Telgar Weyr's 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.

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Kassi's Note:  Normally, Kassi loves a good wager, and enjoys herself 
whether she wins or loses--though she'll not be letting that on to those
she gambles with any time soon.  But then there are wagers which Kassi
herself did not make, but that, for whatever sordid and sadistic reason,
she is forced to witness the results of... a sight which will surely
remain burned into her brain for all time.  She has seen the terror 
that is Mr. Flibble, and ever after, she shall surely flee screaming 
when Ryialla is in the same room with a puppet.  Confused yet?  Read
on; it will all become painfully clear.

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The Log:

You walk past the lintel and into the wide living cavern.

Pierron humphs thoughtfully as the Wingleader of Thunderbolt arrives.

Whinde quirks an eyebrow upwards, and gets an odd expression on her face.
"Uhh.. Right. Whatever you say... What was your name?"

Ryialla calls out, sounding petulant, "Where's all the sharding bland food
hiding?" There's nicely spiced wherry and roast bovine in a delicious sauce
and...well. Maybe she could get away with the tubers. Luckily for her, her
back is to the room in general. Or unluckily, as the Kassi..er, case may 
be.

I'sai goes with the technical answer, "'Isain.' - Promise, Keara? Will you
throw me out into the snow afterward? At least find something nice for Ryi,
first; she has a lot of knives and she's not using them and, really, I
think that's a way of life kthat should be encouraged."

A'lex looks up from the Tuber Weyr Bowl to nod at Kassima, "Evening,
Greenrider!"

Kassima enters in a swirl of snow and black cloak-material, the hood pulled
up to protect her head--though not drawn up enough to obscure the
half-hearted glare she gives Pierron. "I'm glad I'm nay a male," she
announces to the room, drifting towards her Wing's table. "'Tis bloody well
cold enough t'be freezing one's bollocks off out there, if one had any.
Which, thankfully, I don't. Evening, all. Ryi, try Pierron's klah? Naught's
more bland than *that*. Except mayhaps...." Pause. She turns and stares at
A'lex's table. "Except mayhaps tuber sculpture. I will pure and simply nay
ask."

I'sai whispers to Keara and Whinde, "If that means she doesn't even have
any preserved, that's -another- good sign," and waves amiably to the
wingleader.

Keara laughs quietly, waving at Kassima. "Try some of the Istan stew there.
Both hot, and -hot-."

Ryialla turns at that voice, and gives Kassi such a /look/. And a salute.
Oh dear. She's aggrivated.

A'lex looks up, "Hot and hot? As opposed to hot and cold?" He shaes his
head and goes back to sculpting.

"Nay made with Istan hot peppers, is it? Those're aphrodisiacs, I'm told.
Last thing *I* need." Nevertheless, Kassi does swoop towards the food table
once her cloak and jacket have been deposited in a careless sling over the
back of her chair. Ryialla's salute is returned with a very cheerful rude
gesture. "What crawled up your pants and died, Ryi? Want some stew, whilst
I'm ladelling it? At least you can't sculpt it into aught. I don't *think*.
If'n 'twere really congealed, mayhaps." It is probably a good thing that
she doesn't seem to have heard that whisper of I'sai's.

I'sai winces a full-shoulders' shake at her choice of words, though - maybe
it's the 'and died' part - "...Keara?" he repeats a little more 
plaintively.

Ryialla bites out, "I...can't...drink...klah." That's about all Kassi's
going to get - unless someone opens their mouth and spills the beans.

Keara's eyes follow Kassi to the food table and stay on her nervously.
"Yes, Istan hot peppers, and I've never heard that, either." She peers over
at Is, once distracted, "Eh?"

A'lex looks up again, "They're aphrodwhatsits? Really? Is there meat in
that stew Keara?"

I'sai says, "-You- sound -distracted-. Did you know that? You're not
distracted, are you?" and other such ramblings.

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Pliarth sends an image of an egg, then her
lifemate, then smugness.

Kassima spoons stew into a bowl quite despite her own protest, humming to
herself. Beware cheerful greeners, my son; the jaws that bite, the claws
that snatch.... "They are," she affirms. "Just like stuffed mushrooms and
oysters. Though I'm nay certain *why*. Little lumpy grey things have just
never done a thing for me. Anyone else want stew?" The ladel is waved at
the room in general in invitation, before it pauses, pointing towards Ryi
as Kassi's attention shifts that way. "You can't? Wise choice, in any
event. There's Water in the stuff, y'know."

Lysseth> Pliarth warbles gleefully.

Ryialla visibly winces.

Keara blinks. "I'm going to go take muffins out of the oven," she decides,
and promptly heads in that direction.

Lysseth> Pliarth senses that Lysseth is easily distracted from her
ruminations on the snow, and her thoughts color blue with curiousity. << Is
your lifemate going to clutch, Pliarth? >> After considering the smugness,
she adds, << And it's your fault? >>

A'lex puts the finishing touchers on the Star Tubers, then promptly eats
them. "Ya know, the tubers tonight are REALLY good."

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Pliarth seems to be in gossipy auntie mode
today. << She is. And I think so. My lifemate isn't entirely sure, but I
think it is my fault. >>

Ryialla finds something appropriately bland, throws mashed tubers on top,
and returns to her table quietly - even though she's shooting dirty looks
out at the bowl. Then she begins to practically shovel the food in. Last
meal for the condemmed.

She -is- distracted. I'sai turns, wandering over to stand in line for some
stew of his very, very own; "Isn't there water in most klah?" he follows up.

A'lex looks over at I'sar, "Hydrophobia?"

I'sai turns, "Huh?" Pause. "Er, 'hydro-what'?"

Kassima would normally pause now to make gagging sounds at A'lex, she
really would. However, judging from the out-of-focus quality to her eyes,
she's not paying attention to his disgusting display of tuberinity right
now. "Well, now," she says slowly, blinking. "Congratulations t'you,
Ryi--that's wonderful news, it really is--but I have one burning question
for you, if'n I may. *How*, precisely, did Pliarth get you pregnant?"
Spinning, she begins to explain to I'sai, "Nay just water, *Water*. Benden
Water. The Telgar water supply's been contaminated by the stuff. Drinking
it causes spawnings, didn't you know?"

M'kon walks in from the bowl.

M'kon saunters in, sniffing, "Mashed tubers? Mmm...better than fish."

A'lex says "I only drink juice now." He glances towards the new voice, "Hey
M'kon, evening!""

Lysseth> Pliarth senses that Lysseth rumbles a happy note. << My rider
seems to think this is a good thing. She is laughing a lot in her head. But
she is also confused as to how it could be your fault, I think. Maybe your
rider will give her a clue? >> Or a boot to the head, whichever.

M'kon salutes, teasingly, "Greetings, majestic leader of us all." High
spirits then.

Ryialla's shoulders slump, and she looks perfectly miserable. "How did it
happen /last/ time, Kassi?" She's a bright girl, after all. And..oh, no.
M'kon. Shoving the plate aside, she starts to rise and attempt to slip out.

A'lex looks up again, "Majestic? Is my arse getting that big?" He frowns.

I'sai's sandy brows draw in, "Ah, no, I hadn't - and what's this
hydro-thing? - and," he turns, grins. Warns, "And stew, but plenty of the
hot peppers in it... Ryi?"

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Pliarth sends amusement. << It is a good thing,
even if my lifemate does not know it yet. She needs this. >> Image of
dragons in flight. << Obviously. >>

M'kon winces, "I'll avoid the stew then..." He doesn't comment on the
Weyrleader's aarse, busy watching Ryi try to skuttle out, baffled.

Telgar Weyr> A'lex says, "It's like Three's Company in the LC tonight."

Ryialla mumbles something about not doing this while Kassi's around.

Telgar Weyr> M'kon notes that he's on the old computer, and the old
keyboard. Typing will be sporadic (or maybe just spasmotic).

"Uh...." Pause. Ponder. "I don't think 'twas *here* back then," Kassima
observes. "But let's see. If'n they're F'hlan's get--oh! A flight!" Beam.
She's figured it out. Isn't she astute? And she's even managing not to
laugh out loud at poor Ryi's predicament. "How fantastic. Which dragon was
it that had the fortune t'last be catching Pliarth, then? Was it Nraith? A
state of shock would explain why he's eating *tubers*. His brain must've
fried. Congrats, 'Lex!" Beams all around, along with a wave of the ladel to
M'kon, before she plunks herself down in her seat and starts to demolish
the food.

A'lex looks up, "Nriath won a flight? Where was I??"

Kassima coughs delicately. "If'n Ryi's spawning your get, 'Lex, methinks we
can take a *guess*...."

A'lex looks over at Ryialla, "You didn't tell me it was MINE!" He thinks,
"Wait, it *CAN'T* be mine... can it?"

M'kon manages to gather up something related to dinner sans stew. Mashed
tubers with a huge pat of butter makes up the bulk of the two plates. Then
goes to join I'sai.

M'kon mumbles to himself, just loud enough to be kidding, "S'not
mine...Nioth couldn't get /that/ lucky."

I'sai meanwhile pokes at the stewpot, but having no ladle, it just makes
things difficult: tilting means spilling, so he just forks a few chunks of
meat out of it, and then some tubers of his own. "Which table do you think
is best out of range?" he mutters back.

Ryialla stops. Droops, and..."It's not A'lex's. Not by a long shot. Unless
you and your dragon were possessing someone else's body." She steels
herself, and whirls back. "Fine. You /win/, M'kon." Might as well go for
the life-long humilitation. "When you do want to do it?'

M'kon chuckles, "Out of range of wha---" He blinks, and turns huge,
startled eyes at the greenrider.

A'lex looks back and forth from Ryialla to M'kon, "Please, not here. Not in
the Living Cavern... oh please..."

M'kon blinks a few times, expression a classic example of pure,
bronzeriderly cluelessness.

I'sai eases to his shoulder, "Not just that." And then, amiably enough,
"Why not here? Just because people are -eating-..."

Kassima is now thoroughly confused, though she has the dignity to swallow
her mouthful of stew before asking questions. "How can he win now?
Pliarth's nay rising, and if'n she *were*, I'd hope 'twouldn't do that in
the *Cavern*... get out of m'head, Virile One. You're disturbing me."
Realizing that she still has the ladel somewhat belatedly, she gets up in
order to politely return it--now that it is, of course, no longer
needed--and remarks, "What, you like watching people do that while you eat?
Bronzers. They get stranger every Turn."

Ryialla eyes I'sai for a long, long moment. Then, she adds, "And the father
may be someone you know rather well." This to M'kon.

I'sai points out quite quickly, "It's not so much a matter of watching as
listening, really. Or - wait, I guess the outfit was part of it, wasn't it?"

M'kon stands up a bit straighter for a moment, his green gaze going
startlingly sharp for a heartbeat or two. Then it's gone, "I'sai told me,
Ryi. Me, I'd like to offer congratulations, but we don't have to go through
on the bet."

Kassima slowly turns to I'sai. Her expression is beginning to become
somewhat horrified. "*Outfit*? One of 'em's going t'wear a special outfit?
For *that*? Oh, dear *Faranth*. I knew, when J'lor brought that wherry suit
out of Stores t'be showing us, 'twould be trouble sooner or later."

A'lex blanches, "I just don't want to know."

M'kon settles his plates into his hands carefully, and explains in a low,
grey tone, "I made a bet with Ryi, that she was expecting, back when she
was hurling and acting like it was normal...and uh...I won."

Ryialla adds, "And Kassi's got to stay." Because, if she's going to be
tortured for the rest of her life, Kassi's going to have to listen to Ryi
/sing/ it. Every last little bit of it. "Oh, no, M'kon. I don't welsh on
bets." A sweet, sweet smile. "How about right now? Pick your outfit. I'll
change."

"...Perhaps not," I'sai says to Kassima, increasingly quietly, poised and
waiting. "...Myk, want to sit? Maybe across from her; it can be worked out,
well, whatever it is."

M'kon ums a bit...and then sighs, "Something pink then."

A'lex repeats, "I just don't want to know."

"So you're going t'sleep together in the Living Cavern while wearing a
wherry suit and make us watch? And you call that *winning*?" Kassi yelps.
Helloooooo, misunderstanding central. "M'kon, I always thought you were
somewhat sane until now, but *this*... aigh! A pink wherry suit! Have you
nay shame? I don't want t'watch that, Ryi!"

M'kon settles into a chair with a disgruntled sounding sigh. "No. Kassima,
I bet she'd wear whatever outfit I wanted while she sang aloud in the
living cavern while dancing on a table if I was right."

A'lex grunts, "I didn't want to know." He shakes his head, "Note to self,
eat in the Weyr, moron."

Blink. Blink. "Oh," says the Kassi, rather relieved. "Why didn't you say
so? If'n you do the dance with the high kicks, Ryi, could you be careful
nay t'kick a shoe into m'food? 'Twould appreciate it much."

Ryialla claps her hand to her foreheard. "I forgot tabout the dancing part.
Ugh. Fine. I'll go find something in stores." She turns to go, but says, "I
promise not to kick a shoe in your food, Kassima."

I'sai finds a seat of his own nearby, plus a spoon, that ultimate treasure.
"Better sooner than - months later, I suppose. ...Or my food?"

Kassima agrees wholeheartedly around a mouthful of stew, "Oh, aye. Never
try t'be dancing when you're highly preggers. It just does *nay* work, and
then you can't get up again when you fall on your rump. So if'n 'tis nay
'Lex's spawn, whose is it?" Hope glimmers in her eyes. "F'hlan's again? I
could still win that wager...."

Ryialla simply smiles at I'sai, and heads out of the room, calling back,
"Not F'hlan's. Look closer."

Pale eyes glint back, momentarily reflecting that smile with a fraction of
his own - but I'sai's eating, he is, and so earnestly too. "These -are-
good tubers."

Kassima squints after Ryi. "I'm supposed t'be able to tell who fathered her
spawn by looking?" she wonders. "*That's* a trick nay anyone ever taught 
me."

I'sai mutters something about Pierron.

M'kon finally turns his eyes back to his plates, and sighs a bit, before
starting on them. No use wasting them, at least.

Oh, dear. Watch Kassi's eyes bug out. Watch her stare at the cook in mixed
astonishment and horror. Fortunately, a clue sets in before she can scream
at the very idea. "He doesn't have a *dragon*. Pull the other one; it's got
bells on it."

Ryialla returns a short while later, wearing...Faranth. Where did she find
/this/? It's clearly the mark of an insane weaver - bright pink and white
in a gingham print, some sort of hoops underneath to floof out the bottom.
A white bib sewn in the front has pink buttons and lacy edging. A big poofy
hat is on her head - looking like a deranged mushroom. It's the same pink
and white print. Fake hair makes blond braids that stick out from under the
cap and turn up at the edges. They're tied with pink ribbon. Clunk black
boots can be seen on her feet. And on one hand, a child's puppet. Made by a
child, obviously - it's some sort of black bird with a white chest. She
clomps over and climbs up on whichever table Kassi's sitting at, turning so
everyone can see.

Telgar Weyr> Ryialla hopes someone is logging this. :)

Telgar Weyr> M'kon alternately hopes someone is NOT *cackle*

Since she asked - "Borrowed," I'sai calls over, not quite looking up. To
his neighbor, more quietly, "Any word from Aurian? K'ryo and all." But then
there's that clumping. "...Is it safe to look?"

M'kon looks up...and forgets to eat again...he's too busy staring.

A'lex gapes, "Whomever made that needs to be dropped *between*."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima grabs a backlog. ;)

M'kon adds, "Or have the space between their ears washed with agenothree."

Telgar Weyr> Ryialla references for the Red Dwarf fans out there: See
'Quarantine', Rimmer's outfit when he has the holovirus.

That sounds like a, 'no,' but of course I'sai has to peer anyway. "...It
doens't look as if it fits -so- badly," he offers.

"You can't borrow dragons for a flight," Kassima retorts--or starts to. But
it's hard to speak when your mouth is hanging open, as hers is at the sight
of Ryi's choice of costume. "Oh. My. Word," is all she really manages to
say. "Oh. My. Word. Oh. My...." And so on and so forth, until finally she
just gives up and stares.

Ryialla smiles at M'kon. "I think we're ready for our song choice, aren't
we, Mr. Flibble." Mr. Flibble - that'd be the puppet - nods. Don't drink
the water, folks. Not only does it make you pregnant, it clearly drives you
insane.

Telgar Weyr> M'kon was afraid of that.

Telgar Weyr> M'kon thinks breathing the air at Telgar does THAT.

I'sai leans his elbow on the table, his chin on his fist, and cups a
protective arm around his plate: that puppet looks as if it could be 
-flung-.

Kassima squeaks out, "Mr. Flibble." She turns to the other spectators of
this unfortunate event. "Mr. Flibble," she repeats, in case they managed to
miss that. Then a query: "Mr. Flibble?" Finally, her eyes travel towards
the klah pot. "I am never, ever, ever, ever drinking any klah beyond The
Klah again. Ever. *Ever.*" Not that she did *anyway*, but it now bears
reaffirmation.

A'lex's head shakes alot like someone with a really serious palsy (read
Katherine Hepburn), "What is Faranth's name is a Flibble?"

Telgar Weyr> A'lex says, "Well THAT was an RP stopper."

Telgar Weyr> Ryialla pardons. Work idle.

Telgar Weyr> A'lex grins. Oh, that's okay. I just thought I offended
everyone to the point of non-speaking.

Ryialla looks at M'kon, and waits. And waits. And then, finally, "Mr.
Flibble's getting cross, M'kon. We don't want that, do we?" Humor the nice
crazy lady with the puppet, yes.

Telgar Weyr> A'lex falls over.

Telgar Weyr> Ryialla is just trying not to crack up IC. Ryi /never/
promised she wouldn't make this sheer hell for everyone involved. :) Wait
til she starts singing. :)

M'kon manages to find his voice, after several more minutes of gaping. He
tries, "The...uh...the ah...uh...." Someone help him...he's forgotten the
name of every song known to Pern.

I'sai has his own tubers. And his own spoon. So - with an eye to what
happened to A'lex's plate - he engages in a little creative commemoration
of the moment, himself, only this is more a big blob with a little blob.

I'sai whispers not so quietly, "Something short?"

A'lex says "I'm a little Klah Pot?"

M'kon shoots a look back at I'sai, "I don't think that's the name of a
song..." And if it is, he likely doesn't want it sung aloud in the living
cavern.

I'sai outright coughs into his hand, pale eyes dancing; when he's recovered
"...Isn't there some herding tune or other? Or, yeah, that one."

Telgar Weyr> A'lex says, "Fear for your mind Keara..."

Kassima does *not* attempt to sculpt her stew into a representation of Mr.
Flibble, thankfully. She's too busy gaping. And gaping. And gaping. And,
unfortunately, making a suggestion: "How about 'What D'You Do With a
Drunken Rider'?" Yes, the song with seventeen verses pertaining to leather.
Ryi's not the only crazy one.

M'kon looks first to A'lex for salvation...then seems relieved to hear
ANYTHING. "Um...sure. That'd work..."

A'lex balks, "No, not the drunker Rider... oh no. We'll be here for days--
TURNS!"

I'sai points out, "Nobody said we had to witness the whole thing, right?"

Keara pops back out from the kitchen, looking mildly annoyed and a bit 
floury.

A'lex snorts and turns to I'sai, "YOU want to turn your back on Mr. 
Flibble?"

I'sai admits, "Well, there's always backing out slowly."

Keara stops in her tracks and stares at A'lex, then I'sai, then starts
backing towards the kitchen slowly, herself.

"But then he can go for your throat," Kassi points out, ever-helpful.

Ryialla taps the fingers of her free hand against her thigh. Or the dress.
Hard to tell where the hoops start, exactly. "If I have to sing it, you
have to stay for it." Mr. Flibble points at I'sai, M'kon, and then Kassi in
turn. Everyone else, apparently, is optional.

Lucky baker, to have that escape route; "-Thank- you," I'sai says, not
gratefully at all; and then he points out, "Myk - M'kon - said you didn't
have to, that he'd let you off."

Kassima stares at Mr. Flibble as though he were a dangerous, poisonous
thing. And who can say for sure that he *isn't*? "What did I do?" she
demands, plaintive.

A'lex does the Bronzerider's Overbite, his little celebratory dance that HE
doesn't have to stay if they decide on one of the Epic Harper Ballads.

Ryialla says "I don't welsh on bets. And if the originators of the bet
don't stay, there's no guarentee that the bet was actually /completed/ to
everyone's satisfaction." And to Kassi, "Well," she says reasonably, "You
can put your fingers in your ears. But since you are never going to let me
live this down, you might as well get the full fledged experience." Hah. Be
amused at /her/ condition, will you? "So. What's it going to be?"

M'kon ums again, then manages to find enough brains to offer finally, "The
Miner Song." Oh wait...that /wasn't/ what he meant!

Keara reaches the doorway and edges around the wall of the living cavern,
distancing herself from them as much as possible. She settles down at a
table and mutters to the other occupant.

Kassima heaves a resigned sigh. Apparently, that's got a logic that she
just can't refute. "Ryi," she says, setting spoon down in empty bowl and
leaning back to get as far away from Mr. Flibble as the chair will allow,
"remind me, if'n I ever spawn again, t'be throwing up in your shoes."

Telgar Weyr> Keara says, "What is Mr. Flibble? Somebody enlighten me."

Telgar Weyr> A'lex says, "The Scion of Death"

Xin walks here from the Inner Cavern.

Xin stumbles in under his favorite dark raincloud, without so much as a
smile or a nod to the lot of the folk in the cavern.

Xin takes a seat, a plate, and adjusts himself to properly defend himself
from those persistantly pesky caverns-types.

A'lex nods to Xin, all the while keeping one eye on that oh so dangerous
Mr. Flibble.

Kassima would probably wave to Xin. Honest, she would. But she's too afraid
to take her eyes off of Mr. Flibble.

Miner Song? Sounds innocuous enough by the title; I'sai sits up enough to
nods Xin's way, the least bit in warning - he can still run - and then
murmurs to Keara, "Heard that one before? I hadn't."

Xin mutters under his breath an anatomically explicit epitath concerning
ex-Bendenites, their water, and it's effects on previously mentioned body
parts.

Keara just eyes I'sai and the rest of them for a long moment, mumbling
towards her tablemates, "Glad I'm not a rider."

Then... *then* what M'kon said finally penetrates Kassi's terror-fogged
brain. "Nay!" she yelps, twisting in her chair to regard M'kon with horror.
"Nay the *Miner Song*!"

A'lex turns to the rider nearest him, "Miner or Minor?"

I'sai, baker-abandoned, just stares at her a moment; then he dares to ask
Kassi-and-the-rest-at-large, "What's so bad about that song?"

A'lex shrugs, "I dunno."

"Have you ever had a large Woodcrafter's saw shoved in your ears and then
twanged in an out of tune fashion, while simultaneously, someone tortures a
feline?" Kassima wants to know.

A'lex looks over at Kassi, "Lysseth isn't proddy, is she?"

"Not that I remember," I'sai reserves judgement.

Kassima shakes her head immediately. "Bloody shells, nay, and thank the
first queen for it. I'm only trying t'give a situation you can compare
listening to the Miner Song to. A'course, the Miner Song is *worse*...."

I'sai squints. "But if Myk likes it," he begins. "And funny you should
mention it; do you like your felines more one color, or more spotted or is
it mottled and such?"

A'lex just stares at I'sai, "You been hanging around A'ser alot lately?"

Keara abruptly stands up, sends a glare at one poor fellow at the table,
and stalks over to her hearth chair.

Too late. M'kon has spoken. Ryi takes a deep breath, and starts a little
jig on the table. It's mild - she /is/ pregnant and doesn't want to fall
off. But, oh, when the first note leaves her mouth - Kassi's got it almost
perfect. She /does/ sound like a large Woodcrafter's saw shoved in your
ears and then twanged in an out of tune fashion, while feline torture takes
place. And it's /loud/. Kassi forgot the loud part. "Yo he ho, pick, pick,
pick, I hit at the walls with my sharp pointed stick. I dig out gems and
gold, just like a dream--oh, I'm a miner bold, or so I like to seem..."

I'sai's pale eyes widen, reflect quizzical green in the glowlight, "He's in
my wing, so of - " and the rest of his mouthings are drowned right out.

Xin toys with a clump of mashed tuber on his spoon.

Kassima, unsurprisingly, eyes I'sai somewhat askance. "I've never had a
feline. But if'n I did... pure black would be best, 'twould think." Trust
her to think so. "May I ask why you--" The rest of her query, however, is
drowned out. So are her whimpers of pain. Deeeeep Hurting, Frank!

Ptodek walks here from the Inner Cavern.

A'lex just stares.

Ptodek stops stark still in the entrance to the cavern, staring in utter
bewilderment.

I'sai, maybe it's a reply, waves vaguely towards the caverns - from which
Ptodek emerges. Imagine that.

Kassima huddles in her chair, curling up into a ball as best she can so as
to try and block out that horrible sound. No luck. The whimpers grow more
pronounced, and she misses I'sai's seeming display of magic powers 
entirely.

A'lex smiles at Ptodek, giving him an apologetic look.

Ptodek slowly moves across the cavern, mouth agape, until he reaches a
bench. Slowly, he sits down. Slowly, he lowers his head between his knees
and begins to hyperventilate with helpless laughter.

M'kon quietly, after a minute or three...puts his head in his hands....oh
boy...

Xin seems resistance to the insanity -- or just perhaps already too crazy
to care -- as he begins a quiet consultation with the mashed tubers in
question.

Ryialla does her little jig, nightmarish pink gingham dress bouncing up to
reveal the clunky boots, fake braids bouncing, Mr. Flibble waving madly.
And as she starts into the second verse, she looks clearly at M'kon. He has
the power to stop this at any time. Who knows how many verses this song 
has?

I'sai, for his part, may have hunched-in shoulders but also keeps an eye on
the others for warning signs: twitches, frothing, or even simple drool. The
laughter counts.

Kassima surrenders all hope of dignity and quietly crawls under the table
to hide. The horror... the horror...!

Kindre walks in from the bowl.

Pierron gives a small bow to the Weyrwoman.

M'kon doesn't see the weyrwoman arrive to witness the pink-clad monstrosity
he's unleashed upon Teglar...he's too busy hiding his eyes, as if somehow
he didn't see Ryialla dancing and singing the Miner's Song...it wouldn't be
happening.

A'lex just gapes. Then gapes more.

I'sai murmurs, his nod at the arrival reflexive, "That -can't- be good for
the, uh, the baby. On the other hand, if it survives this," does it bode
well or ill?

Xin suddenly turns belligerant on his fork, and swallows the tubers in a
single gulp. "That's what you get for backtalk, foul side dish."

"Good eve!" The cheery call comes from Kindre as she attempts to have her
greeting heard above the usual noise filling the living cavern. She stomps
her boots a few times while nodding back to Pierron, the former meant to
shake loose the few clingy bits of snow that managed to attached themselves
to the toes. Only then does the events of the gathering at large retrieve
her full attention. "Uh..." is her eloquent take on the situation. "I shall
not ask," is murmured as she moves to procure a glass of white wine, jovial
smile still on her lips.

Keara watches, silent, from her hearth chair. Especially at Xin, that last
comment. Not silent, now: "What do you mean, foul?"

Kassima does not greet Kin. This is because she is cowering under a table
from the singing, dancing, Strawberry Shortcake-esque Ryi, her brains
slowly melting into something with all the sanity of frosted cabbage.

Telgar Weyr> I'sai says, "...Strawberry -Shortcake-."

Telgar Weyr> M'kon cackles. Ack!

Telgar Weyr> Kindre says, "Oooo! Ooo! I wanna be Huckleberry Kin! ;)"

Ryialla really is /not/ jigging that hard. The bird puppet on her hand is.
But her feet aren't. She did promise no boots in Kassi's food. The next
verse of this song includes the words, "I can't stop this until M'kon says
so or I run out of lyrics..." Sung just like the song. That is to say,
awfully. There's a reason Ryi's banned from singing when the harpers arrive
- and you are all getting a prime, prime example.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima knows that's not the basis for the outfit, but it's
what the big puffy hat made me think of. ;)

Ptodek recovers swiftly from his laughing fit when he hears Xin's comment.
"Something wrong with the food?" he asks in alarm.

Xin might have heard Keara and Ptodek, but is talking low and quickly to
the remainder of his tubers, perhaps trying to scare them straight.

Keara rises and advances on Xin slowly, stalking. No, she's not frothing at
the mouth. Yet. She grabs a serving spoon from a table as she passes it.

Kassima uncurls and peeks out from under the table, giving M'kon a
desperate, begging look. "Tell her to stop the song!" she screeches, this
being the only way to be heard over Ryi. Of course, her screech is probably
dissonant with the other greenrider's screeching. Lovely.

M'kon looks up, then yelps, "That's okay, Ryi...that's enough. Really.
Thank you. That was er...lovely..."

Xin stabs into the mashed tubers a few times, for effect, and takes another
tentative bite of them. "Blast. You lads don't learn, do you?"

Go, baker, go. -I'sai-, now, he ducks back as she gets the spoon, even if
it's of another breed than that puppet entirely. "...'Lovely'?"

Kindre's thoughts seem to mirror those of the Thunderbolt Wingleader. One
could almost imagine the ripples running across the surface of her wine as
Ryialla continues her tale in song. "Please..." she begins when the young
bronzerider's voice enters the air. A sigh escapes her lips...not heard,
obviously, but rather seen by the small 'o' her lips make.

Keara thrusts the spoon under Xin's nose and wiggles it threateningly.

Ryialla ends on a high, wavering note - one that surely comes close to
breaking glassware. And then, she bows. As she climbs off the table, she
says to I'sai, "I do hope you remembered to take notes, I'sai. Because
/that/ is what you do when you know you're going to lose a bet." And with a
giggle, she runs - pregnant or no - out of the room.

Ryialla walks towards the inner cavern.

A'lex says "Oh thank Faranth that's over..."

Ptodek giggls

Xin reaches up for the spoon, batting it away from his face with a look of
contempt, "Are you, mayhap, the baker responsible for these rude and
unmanned tubers? I know it can't be Ofira. She always beats them into
bitter submission early in the cooking process..."

Leya walks in from the bowl.

Kassima collapses to the floor as the 'singing' finally ceases. "M'kon,"
she says in a weak voice, "'twill do aught you ask of me--'twill oil your
dragon, mend your straps, buy you a Turn's supply of clothes from the
Weavers, bear your children--if'n you'll please, *please*, never, ever,
ever, ever make a bet like that with Ryi again."

I'sai tugs on one earlobe, and then the other, just - testing. And then, at
Kassima's comment, a second time.

Telgar Weyr> Xin thinks we have an opening to get Kassi pregnant again
here. ;)

M'kon looks at Kassima seriously, "I don't intend to."

Telgar Weyr> Ryialla pounces on this. Oo. :)

Telgar Weyr> J'lyn is FIRMLY staying a Ledge Buzzard if THAT'S happening in
the LC...

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Isn't one crazy spawning greenrider dressing up
like the Swiss Miss girl and doing a jig *enough* for one Weyr? ;)"

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo volunteers? =)

Leya quietly walks in, then blinks at Kassima, then M'kon as she hears her
wingleader. "What bet?" she asks curiously walking over.

Keara's speechless - for about two seconds. "Excuse me? Excuse me? Are you
saying my tubers aren't as good as Ofira's? Are you saying those tubers
don't taste good? Because if you are," she screeches a little, "then I'm
shoving them up your nose."

Telgar Weyr> J'lyn could come down in Full Leather Gear, Kassi...

Telgar Weyr> Kassima aiyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees.

Silvery-blue eyes roll as another, this time heard, sigh slips over
Kindre's lips. "Faranth only knows what I walked in on there," she remarks
with a chuckle, "But remind me never to bet with Ryialla on
anything...ever." Following her words is a laugh and then a sip from her
glass...left amazingly unshattered despite the previous reverberation of
the departed rider's final notes. Lifting a hand to wave to Leya, she says,
"I was afraid to ask that myself, to be true dearheart."

Telgar Weyr> J'lyn puts on his best Mom voice. "Don't MAKE me come down
there!"

Telgar Weyr> Kindre laughs!!

M'kon startles and peers towards Keara, worriedly.

Ptodek opens his mouth to protest Xin's remark, but closes it again and
gives Keara a grin and a broad wink.

A'lex looks over to Keara, "Please don't abuse the resident's dear." He
smiles weakly, "And don't screach... not after that. Oh, Faranth, not after
that."

"I'm simply saying," comments Xin, dangerously, "that they're impudent
little spuds. They need a whipping, and a good one. I'll not pass judgement
on their creator, although it is _quite_ obvious that their upbringing is
at least partially at fault for their behavior." He glances at the spoon,
"Furthermore, I don't think Telgar _needs_ nasally insertable tubers. It's
just not cost-effective."

Kassima's relief is almost palpable. No, it *is* palpable. Not only that
M'kon won't make another bet, but that she didn't have to do anything
extreme to bribe him. Slowly, she manages to crawl back into her chair.
"Ryi's spawning with someone," she answers Kin, "and so she's gone stark,
raving insane."

"...It was a lesson, Leya," I'sai says cautiously. "And you missed it. The
main part. It's ...gone now." Unless bits are in the corners, lurking.

Leya raises an eyebrow and smiles at Kindre's comment, "Well, then maybe I
should've asked." She then looks at Keara, then at the tubers. "They look
fine to me, Keara."

J'lyn walks in from the bowl.

Pierron gives a respectful nod to the Weyrsecond.

A'lex looks... haggard... as he smiles weakly at J'lyn, "You missed all the
fun."

M'kon rubs his forehead lightly, and looks at his now cold plate
mournfully. Maybe he just has a headache.

Keara's almost growling, lower now; A'lx's still Weyrleader, so she'll
concede and not screech. "If they're impudent little spuds," she snaps,
"you did it to them! And furthermore, they would so be cost effective, if
shoving them up your nose stopped you complaining about my food."

J'lyn waves a hand at Pierron. "How many times do I have to tell you to
stop that?" The big man wanders over to the wine cabinet, and pours himself
a glass. "Oh, I did, did I, laddybuck? Pray tell, how much does your
version of fun differ from mine?" He winks at the horrible, awful, nasty
looking Weyrleader, and settles himself in at a table upwind.

"Again?" Kindre can't help but quip that tidbit before chuckling.
"Seriously, though," she remarks after the giggles have left, "I had not
heard that she was in spawn mode, to be true...do we know by whom, Kassi,"
she wonders before Pierron's nodding tugs her attention. "Crackdust, why
can't you greet me that simply dear old chef," is queried of the aproned
man before a wave is offered to the Weyrsecond. "Good eve, J'lyn...and I
agree with our esteemed Weyrleader...seems Ryialla was putting on a show
when I entered."

Leya waves to J'lyn, then finally pulls out a chair and sits down, "A
lesson?" she says to I'sai, "I doesn't look like it was a nice lesson."

Telgar Weyr> Kindre says, "Should I like check +flights? ;)"

Telgar Weyr> J'lyn says, "Gawd, it's like Never-RPers Zone down here!"

Telgar Weyr> A'lex cackles.

After a performance like that, a greenrider needs a good, stiff drink.
Kassima produces a small bottle of something green from the wet bar she
stashes in her jacket and swigs the whole thing. "That," she sighs, "is
much better. Much better. Much, much, much better. And if'n I never hear
Ryi sing again, I'll die *happy*, 'twill. Jal, toss me a 'skin of Red, will
you?" A headshake is given Kindre, then. "I don't, save that 'tis nay A'lex
and 'tis nay M'kon and 'tis nay F'hlan. Shame on that last. I want t'win
that wager, shardit."

Fun. I'sai sits back. "...I think it meant well," he offers to the one
clutchmate; to the other, "Has this turned you off betting for good and 
all?"

Telgar Weyr> Ryialla giggles.

Xin smiles winsomly at Keara, "I assure you--absolutely nothing could stop
me from complaining about the food."

Telgar Weyr> J'lyn hasn't been off his ledge in forever...

Telgar Weyr> Kindre has! Into the weyr, then back on the ledge, but still ;)

J'lyn mutters to A'lex, "... a... cast-iron..."

Telgar Weyr> J'lyn ooohs, decent mutter... :)

Xin sighs, "Ah, for the days when a skillet to the head could stop me..
but, I've gone _way_ beyond that."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima got out recently for some Mart-torture. But we wound
up torturing I'sai instead. ;)

Telgar Weyr> M'kon doesn't RP. It's an illusion.

"Disconnecting your head from your shoulders would," the baker threatens.
"There's absolutely no cause to complain about the food, now that the
renovations are over. And if you try, then you -will- have something to
complain about." She calls over to I'sai, "Remind me to tell Quarroul about
this. It'll illustrate a point I was trying to get across to him yesteray,"
Keara finishes.

A'lex looks from Xin to J'lyn, "What ears... wow."

Telgar Weyr> I'sai couldn't let himself passively be tortured, so it must
count as rp.

Telgar Weyr> M'kon cackles.

Leya smiles at I'sai, then looks around at the others around. "Betting with
anyone, at least for me, isn't a good idea." she remarks quietly.

Ryialla walks here from the Inner Cavern.

Ryialla carefully pokes Mr. Flibble around the corner, the little puppet's
beady eyes scanning the cavern. It's followed a moment later by her head.
Safe yet?

Kindre's head bobs when she overhears Leya. "Me either," she comments over
to the younger rider. "I've won only one bet in all my turns...and it was
without anyone to witness it. I am, to be true, one of the worst with
wagering luck."

"I like t'be wagering," Kassi mumbles, staring forlornly at the empty vial.
"I've made all m'marks from either wagering or willingly humiliating
m'self. But there aren't enough marks in the world t'be making me sit
through that again." The re-emergence of the puppet elicits a yelp, and she
grabs her fork, the better to use it to defend herself with. Don't ask her
how. She'll think of something.

Xin says, simply, "You'll find it is much harder to remove a head from a
human than from food. Particularly for a baker so obviously inferior to
mighty Ofira in all ways. Now, _she_ could decapitate me in an instant."

"Why you?" I'sai asks in as low a tone; "I know Myk wasn't much for it - 's
why I asked him just now - but you?" He calls to Keara, then, "Is he gonna
stay? With the kitchen about done? He was complaining about some
greenrider, only it was the complaint that he always used to wish he had,
back at Benden..."

Ptodek rolls his eyes at Xin. "Now that's just rude," he says.

Xin starts rubbing where his neck meets his body, rather anxiously.

Keara slams the spoon down on the table, neatly splintering it in half,
"Then I'll just ask Ofira." She stalks off, mumbling something about ground
Istan peppers in oatmeal.

A'lex stares at Xin. Obviously the boy's whacked. No one in their right
mind on Pern would insult a crafter in such a manner.

"I think mayhap it would be wisest if you curbed your tongue," Kindre
offers to Xin in a rather polite tone...for now. "She may not be able to
sever your head with the skill of Master Ofira, but a simple dining
knife...or one borrowed from Kassima here...surely could relieve you of
your tongue."

A'lex adds, "Or other important bits."

Telgar Weyr> Keara laughs!

Ptodek stifles a laugh.

Xin laughs, nerviously, "Ah, I'm a Resident. We never get laid, 
_anyhow_..."

Leya turns back to I'sai, and just shrugs, "My luck has never been good to
begin with and the bets I've seen usually aren't very fun for the loser. I
just don't like taking chances like that," she replies quietly. She then
blinks as she notices the sock puppet, "What's that?" she then looks
around, "Is that...?"

Ptodek says "Yeah, well, you won't eat either if you're not nicer."

Ryialla flicks a glance over at Xin, her own eyes wide. Did he just...he
did. Oh, Faranth. Still, one must take advantage of the distraction, and
Ryi slips back in fully - wearing leathers,fortunately. She settles into a
seat, quiet as you can please, and Mr. Flibble is tucked away. We'll just
keep him.

Keara ignores Xin, moving nearer to I'sai. "I hope he'll stay. I like him,
even though he doesn't seeem to like me, or the weyr, that much. Or baking,
for that matter."

Kindre's head bobs with Ptodek's words. "If you don't stop insulting one of
my best Crafter's, you can accompany your tongue out of this
cavern...attached or nay."

At the mention of her knives, Kassi relaxes from her guarded stance enough
to pat the hilt of the serrated wherry-skewer at her belt with fondness.
"That," she murmurs, in response to Leya, "is your worst nightmare. Ryi...
the horror's over, right? 'Twill nay have t'be offering t'bear *your*
children t'be ensuring 'twill never sit through that again, right?"

Xin leans back his head and cackles insanely for a good, long moment, "But,
I'm a tuber expert!"

I'sai flinches - spoon, splinters - and piles spoon, napkin and cup atop
his mostly-emptied plate. "Well, then, if your luck runs that way..." he
follows her glance, and then goes quiet. Only then there's that baker
again, standing so he can't get up after all; "Huh? Oh. Right. And he's had
time to learn. You sure? I mean, if he's going to be mopey, we've already
Jen - uh, enough people."

A'lex stands, obviously not thrilled, "If you'll all excuse me, I'm going
to put my temper in a snow drift for a bit."

"And this lovely woman here," Kindre nods towards Kassima, "is not only a
dear friend, but a knife expert. Your choice."

A'lex walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Ryialla hms? She looks up from where she's cleaning her nails with her
/own/ belt knife, and nods. "I was merely teaching someone the ways and
means of a proper bet. And this was the lesson on what to do if you lost."
She spots Kindre, and salutes briskly, then goes back to cleaning her 
nails.

Leya nods seriously to Kassima, then /stares/ at Xin. "You you sure about
that? It's not him?"

Xin smiles at Kindre, "I am well aware of her many skills."

Kindre grins. "Good. Then if you would please behave, I would be most
appreciative."

Xin just *smiles*. Big, goofy smile.

"But you don't torture *innocents* when you lose!" Kassi nearly wails.
However, she cannot be too distracted by injustice when *knives* are being
talked about. Standing, she ambles over to Kin and offers her one of the
aforementioned blades. Precisely where she was hiding it on her person is a
mystery. "Care t'be doing the honors, Kin? I've gotten t'slice-and-dice
many things in m'day, and truth be told, I should likely share the wealth."

Keara runs a hand through her hair, looking frustrated, "He thinks he's not
good enough. I don't understand it. And I told him he was free to leave
Telgar if he wasn't happy, but then he told me about his pepper project,
and he was excited about that, but then.." She sighs, pulls out a seat, and
falls into it.

Ptodek walks towards the inner cavern.

Leya takes her eyes off of the obviously insane Xin, to look at the knife.
Leya's eyebrow shoot upward and she deliberately turns to look over at the
safer area of Keara and I'sai. They have to be safer...

I'sai, as she sits, stands and gathers up his plate and its ill-balanced
toppings; "So the stew's because of him? Don't know about the not good
enough... but if it's the people, the, uh, lifestyle, and he really does
want a hold, can you blame him?"

Is Ryi grinning, as she looks down at those nails. Surely not As she looks
up, her face is solemn. "I did say that you could plug your ears. And
nobody else had to stay." Not her problem if they did.

"Stew? What does stew have to do with anythink," Keara asks tiredly. "And
he's quite good, excellent even, for an apprentice. And I feel like it's my
fault, anyway." She looks around, "I can't see why he wouldn't enjoy this,
really. Except," and she turns her glare on Xin, "Except, unless, people
like -that- have been insulting his cooking."

"Aye, well... y'did that," Kassi has to admit. "Though 'twouldn't have done
any *good*. So, Ryi--have you thought about names for the spawnlet yet?"

Ryialla eyes Kassi for a moment. "I'm only a third of the way along. It
hasn't come up yet."

"Well, and the people pinching him," I'sai points out. "Or - well, I just
didn't ask about details. But yeah, the insults, no baker likes..." he
trails off, tiredly; "I'm sorry. Started out -such- a good day, and though
it's not 'xactly bad now, it's long... Want to let Leya know what's
happening?"

M'kon offers lightly, "Wouldn't it ah....uh...work better to know who
first, before you start kicking names around/ Or um...well. Could just
stick an 'n' on the end..."

Keara rubs at her head, "Pinching him? Oh, Faranth." She turns to peer at
I'sai, "Is it me, or are you being more confusing than usual? Let Leya know
that -what- is happening?

Lysseth> Above, From the Telgar Star Stones, L'klal's burnished bronze
Pteynth rears on hind legs and bugles a greeting to green Siraeth and her
rider, J'cob of Fort Weyr.

Kassima crinkles her nose. "People usually asked *me* about names the
moment I started retching. I don't see why you should be escaping. Just do
the kid a favor and don't emulate m'relatives, hey? And name him
Karxarylnim or something? Though you'd have t'be spawning with Kharty,
A'lex, and Nimiriel all at once t'be getting a name like that, I suppose...
Ryi's spawning," she then informs Leya at the request for an update, though
it wasn't directed at her. "The world is coming to an end. Run. Hide. Wait
a moment--you're saying *Ryi* doesn't know, M'kon?" Back to Ryi her
attention swivels.

Leya gives Keara a little smile, "If you want too, you don't have to."

Kindre stands up suddenly, lifting her half-finished glass of wine with
her. "If you will all forgive my quick departure," she begins as she tugs
on her jacket, "it seems my weyrmate has returned from drills and it feels
like turns since I've seen him," finishes her explanation. Moving towards
the cavern's exit, she turns to wave and offer, "Clear skies! I'll see you
all on the morrow," and then moves out towards the bowl.

Kindre walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Lysseth> Siraeth backwings for a landing.

Telgar Weyr> J'lyn gahs! Fort's invading! :)

Lysseth> Dilorenth backwings for a landing.

Lysseth> J'cob hops down Siraeth's side to the ground, using her straps as
handholds.

Keara blinks again, "I don't know anything else that's happening, though."

Lysseth> A'len unstraps himself from Dilorenth's back, and slides down his
forelimb to the ground.

Lysseth> J'cob leaps off Siraeth's back and whips off his helmet, only to
put it back on, "Shards! I forget it's as cold here as Benden."

I'sai darts a quick, pale glance M'kon's way; and then he says, "...Well,
tell her about the bakers. And all. Quarroul. That sort of thing."

Ryialla admits, "I've m not completely sure, no. And I'm not telling you
the probables until at /least/ I've talked to them both. And maybe not even
then." She rises from her seat and slips the knife away. "I'll see you all
later, then."

Lysseth> Lysseth unlids bluish eyes and rumbles, drowsy-like, to the Fort
dragons in greeting. She even snorts a quick gust of snow their way; how
generous of her.

Lysseth> A'len rubs his hands up and down the sides of his arms, and nods
slowly, "It's pretty bad, isn't it? I've only been here once before - don't
ever think I'll get used to it, though."

Lysseth> Siraeth sounds a rousing greeting to the dragons in the bowl--
some are old wingmates, others totally unfamiliar.

"Shards. How'm I supposed t'be playing the name game, then?" Kassi
grumbles, but half-heartedly. "Clear skies t'you, Ryi, and g'deve. Regards
to your smug evil-beast."

Lysseth> Pliarth pokes her head up from the pile of snow she's buried part
of herself in, and warbles. She slides out and shakes herself off, well
away from the others.

Lysseth> Dilorenth turns his head to regard Lysseth, and gives her a hearty
rumble. The sound turns humorous as the steam it causes seems to blow the
snow back in her direction. Not all the way, of course. How un-gentlemanly.

Ryialla grins at Kassi. "You're not. Deal." And with that, she waves and
leaves.

Lysseth> J'cob laughs, "Eh, well, when it's cold like this, the only choice
is to head for warmth. C'mon."

J'cob walks in from the bowl.

Pierron sniffs at the klah pot, and throws the old klah out with a look of
disgust.

Keara blinks again and complies, "Um. Quarroul's here; you knew that maybe?
We're done, uh, doing the kitchen, so he may get posted somewhere else, but
I'd rather he stay here..anything else?

Ryialla walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Leya smiles at Kassima, "Maybe later," She then nods to Rhy,
"Congratulations," she says politely. She then smiles at Keara, "I think
Tovith knows more about whats going around here than I do most of the 
time."

A'len walks in from the bowl.

Pierron sniffs at the klah pot, and throws the old klah out with a look of
disgust.

"Later," I'sai agrees fatalistically, and lugs his plate towards the
dirty-dishes platter.

J'cob steps into the living cavern, removing his flight helm and knocking a
bit of snow out of his face. He blinks a few times and peers into the
cavern before heading to the hearth.

Lysseth> Lysseth wrinkles her muzzle as best she can, shaking her head
vigorously, for all that the snow didn't make contact. It's the thought
that counts. Nonchalantly, she begins gathering a supply of the white stuff
between her foreclaws... just in case.

Dragon> Siraeth bespoke Lysseth with << Greetings, old friend. Go easy on
the bronze, he's young and not wise in the ways to amuse mature greens such
as ourselves. >>

Keara shrugs slightly, then directs a nod to J'cob before saying, "I've
been supervising the kitchens and baking, and that's all, so I don't know
anything else."

Kassima blows out a sigh of relief as Ryi leaves. No more Mr. Flibble. "By
the by, I'sai," she mentions to the bronzerider, turning in her seat, "I'd
been meaning t'be apologizing for you getting caught in the crossfire of
that... discussion... 'tween the brownie and m'self. Please excuse him;
he's insane." Shifting back, she espies the entering duo; her eyebrows lift
at sight of the first. "Duties t'Fort and her queens," she calls, "and
g'deve t'you, J'cob--what's bringing you back to the Icy Wastes?"

Leya nods to Keara, "Yeah, well, I hope he'll stay. I've seen him around a
few times and seems like a nice person." She then waves to the people
walking in from the cold.

Lysseth> Dilorenth eyes Lysseth with a cross between wariness and
humorousness - well, it certainly makes his eyes turn all sorts of
intersting colors. He raises one wing slightly, ready to protect his muzzle
from an attack - should it come.

Lysseth> Siraeth senses that Lysseth rumblechuckles her amusement. << Ahhh,
I see. There will be time for him to learn, then. I will endeavor to leave
him in peace--so long as he leaves me likewise. It doesn't do to let a
snow-attack go uncountered. >>

J'cob warms his hands and body for a moment, then shucks the remainder of
his gear to the helping hands of an anonymous cavernsperson. He turns and
heads over to Kassima, who first addressed him, "Naturally, nothing worth
getting as cold as I've gotten tonight. But, what can one do? I was hoping
to meet with your Weyrlingmaster. But, now that I'm here, all thoughts seem
drawn irrevokably to wine."

A'len tucks his helmet under his arm as he follows J'cob, unintentionally
mimicking the greenrider's actions of flicking the snow off of here and
there. He waves to everyone in the caverns - after a seconds thought, it
turns into a rough salute, "Fort's duties to Telgar and her queens."

Lysseth> Tovith just eyes the other dragons and scoops back so that he's
out of the line of fire should anything occur.

Lysseth> Lysseth's tail twitches to and fro as she considers the matter. To
snow, or not to snow? That is the question. With a sidelong look at
Siraeth, she warbles with quiet amusement, and subsides... though that snow
does stay within easy reach. Don't get any ideas, now.

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Siraeth projects an image of the bronze,
covered in snow save for wingtips.

Lysseth> Dilorenth keeps his on Lysseth - whether it's because she's
dangerous, or terribly sexy...well. I suppose that's rather hard to tell.

I'sai hesitates on his way back, chooses his phrasing, "My wingleader?
...Yeah, well, it's my duty; maybe we could talk later - the lessons, too."
He nods to the Fortians with distracted interest, and murmurs to M'kon once
he's close enough, "That's the one that looked a little like you," and he's
not pointing out J'cob. "'Scuse me, the rest of you; good luck with Quar
and I'll, uh, be back. Later."

Lysseth> Siraeth senses that Lysseth cackles, insofar as a dragon can
cackle; crystalline mind-spires flicker fitfully with the ruby light of
slightly evil amusement. << Now, *that* would be an interesting sight. >>

M'kon ehs at I'sai, and follows his pointing out, curious.

Keara nods at I'sai, wearily, "Off you go, have fun."

"Is aught worth getting as cold as one gets here?" Kassi asks, with a trace
of cynicism. "Maylia's nay about that I'm aware of--if'n she's smart, she's
keeping warm with that weyrmate of hers. Pierron's got wine aplenty,
though. Good Benden reds." Amusement colors her voice as she informs the
young bronzerider, "My Lysseth says, by the by, that she's promised nay
t'be covering your bronze with snow if'n he doesn't fling any at her. So he
likely needn't worry. G'deve, I'sai--and by all means. Just let me know
when you've the time t'be sparing."

Leya waves to I'sai, "See you."

J'cob shrugs his shoulders at the news that Maylia isn't about, and pulls
out a well worn piece of hide from one of his pockets, "You know, Kassi, we
made a wager at High Reaches' last hatching, neigh on to a turn ago, and I
do believe we never settled that one. I believe I owe you two skins."

I'sai ducks Kassima a nod, "I'll pass it on," though dragon-memory's a
curious thing; there's then a smiled "Later," to Keara, a nod to the others
of his table, and he hurries out.

I'sai walks towards the inner cavern.

Kassima blinks in surprise at J'cob, and reaches into her satchel to pull
out a thick roll of hide. Flicking it sends it rolling out along the length
of the table, the free end eventually tumbling to the floor. And yes, it is
a long table. "'Reaches, 'Reaches..." she mutters, standing to walk along
beside it and try to find the note. "Oh, here! Aye, you speak true,
J'cob--have you the two skins on you? If'n nay, nay worries; I've waited
this long t'be collecting; I can wait a bit longer." At I'sai's departure,
she blinks again, evidently confused until a clue sets in. "Oh. Must've
thought I meant Taralyth."

A'len blinks at Kassi rapidly before his eyes go unfocused in that classic
'I'm talking to my dragon' look. Finally, "Oh. Umm, fine. Well, he says
it's cold enough here that flinging snow around isn't such a good idea. So
I think she's safe." He smiles slightly.

J'cob sits at the table across from Kassi with a snort, "You ask _me_ if I
have skins on me? Surely you know I do.. in fact, you have a choice of a
few pressings. It so happens I rarely mount Siraeth without a half dozen
skins -- one never knows when one might be stranded half-naked in the
Weavercraft without anything better to drink than a Tillek White, 
afterall."

Keara settles unhappily onto her favorite hearth chair, muttering under her
breath.

A'len blinks at J'cob for a second - he's doing a lot blinking, this one -
, "Oh! That's right. J'cob has lots of wine. You should have seen all the
wine he pulled out of his stash for our graduation! It was..." He frowns
slightly, looking suddenly self-conscious, "Wel, it was a lot."

J'cob says, as an aside, "I didn't even break into the better part of my
stash.."

Kassima grins at that logic, bobbing her head in assent. "Lysseth is
entirely too fond of flinging snow," she explains, "but a touch indignant
about having it flung *on* her, so she's finally learned t'be cautious
about provoking attack. M'name's Kassima, by the by--green Lysseth's rider
and other such nonsense. Well met." She begins the task of rolling the
betting hide back up. It's probably going to take awhile. "Gievn that 'tis
*you* we're talking about, I can believe it. I never fear finding m'self
with a Tillek 'skin in hand; I could never get drunk enough for *that*."
Another grin is flicked towards A'len. "Probably about as much as Tinya and
others dragged out for ours. Though 'twas more brandy and Green Stuff and
Harper's Folly than wine. Oh--" A thought occurs to her. "Leya," she asks
her wingmate, "had you ever met J'cob? He used t'be riding here."

Leya frowns as she looks over in concern over at Keara. She then gets up
and walks over to the serving table and gets herself a glass of juice, some
meatrolls, and tubers. She walks back over to the table sits down near the
hearth.

Keara smiles tiredly at Leya. "How're you? How's the dragon?

J'cob lists about six pressings, off the top of his head, for Kassima to
choose from.

Leya waits until she's swallowed her mouthful of tubers before she answers
Kassima, "No, I don't believe I have. Well met, J'cob." She then smiles
encouragingly at Keara, "I'm well, so is Tovith. Oh, and I think the tubers
are very good."

Kassima's brow furrows slightly in thought. "The second Turn pressings are
likely m'favorite of that lot," she eventually decides.

A smile graces Keara's face for a few seconds. "Thank you, Leya, and I'm
glad you're both well. Wing riding still good?"

J'cob nods to Leya, and notes Kassima's choice on his hide. "Pleasure doing
business with you. So, you still have good contacts at Benden 
Vintnercraft?"

A'len smiles slightly at Kassima, and shrugs, "Well, you know, they learn,
right? It just takes them a bit longer. Dilorenth's almost three turns,
now, and he's still trying to figure little things like action and
consequence out."

Leya glaces back at her wingleader and smiles before looking back Keara,
"Yeah, it's going well. The usual." She pokes at her food a bit, then asks
in a kind voice, "Hard day today?"

"A great-uncle, aye," Kassima confirms, stuffing her betting hide away. "He
still sends me his experiments now and then t'be testing. Nay certain
whether or nay t'be glad. When they're good, they're very, very good, but
when they're bad...." Shudder. Her ears perk up enough to catch Leya's
answer, and she grins briefly at it, then nods to A'len. "A'course.
Lysseth...." She considers a moment, then snorts. "Lysseth's likely nay so
very much younger than *you* are--shells, what a thing t'make one feel
ancient--so if'n she'd nay learned by now, I'd worry."

Keara sighs, "I suppose. Flour accident in the kitchen, that..um, resident,
with the tubers, and the whole Quarroul thing. On the upside, the kitchen's
remodled, and we have pink, wheat designed tiles."

A'len raises an eyebrow, and smiles slightly. "It hardly shows, ma'am. You
look..umm, well, just a few turns older than me, I guess?" Hey. He's trying.

J'cob smiles slyly, and tries his very best not to giggle.

Kassima's snort this time is one of amused disbelief. "Mmm-hmm. Pull the
other one; it has bells on it. But please--none of that ma'aming; I'm
allergic to the word. The implication of respectability gives me hives.
Kassima or Kassi will be fine." J'cob is shot a suspicious look. "You know,
methinks I fear you when you smile like that."

Leya nods in understanding, "Yeah." She smiles at the good news, "Pink? Oh
yeah, that's your favorite color, isn't it. Well, then that must make the
kitchen really special." Her smiles grows a little wider as she hear A'len,
but quickly cover it with her hand.

J'cob says, rather tartly, "Everyone fears me when I smile." He adds, "But,
I've grown a bit more harmless over the years. They even made me
weyrlingmaster. A'len here got to suffer under my instruction."

Keara glances toward the group of riders for a moment and then replies,
"Aye. I wanted more pink, but nobody else liked that. So it was a complete
surprise when they put in the tiles."

A'len gives Kassima a slow now, "Umm...allright. Bells? Uhh, er, well,
Kassima is fine." He turns to J'cob, and gives him a slight smile,
"Actually, I liked you being the weyrlingmaster. You kept all those
assistants of yours off my back. Literally." He can't help a small blush.

J'cob laughs, "Yes, well, they were very lonely."

"Even so, you can be mostly harmless at best. You're a greenrider. We
aren't good at harmless," Kassi points out, quite reasonably.
"Felicitations, though, on the promotion--and are you still with Maarie?
Been a span since I've seen her." To A'len, she explains, "Euphemism--goes
along with the saying of pulling one's leg. Though I don't literally wear
bells on either one, a'course." Dark eyebrows lift up towards her hairline.
"Is this a story I want t'be asking about?"

Leya smiles and nods, "Yeah, but I'm sure it looks really nice. I'll have
to peek in the kitchen and look it over soon." She picks up her meatroll
and takes a bite out of it, chewing as she listens the other conversation
going on.

A'len snorts softly at J'cob, "Half of them had weyrmates. Sir." Old habits
die hard, I suppose. Especially with this one. To Kassi, "Oh! I see. 'Cause
you had bells on your leg and...well. I get it."

Keara nods, "Excellent idea." And then she diverted, leaning closer to
examine Leya's meatroll, "That's the new kind. Do you like it?"

"Believe it or not," says J'cob, "Maarie still puts up with me. At least,
most of the time. You should pay us a visit some time at Fort. Naturally, I
could indulge you with a story or two about how A'len managed to make half
my assistants swoon. At least," he sighs, "it seems to have been 
accidental."

A'len frowns at J'cob, and nods briskly. "Yes. It certainly was. Would you
mind giving me some wine as well, sir?"

"At least Fort would be *warmer* than these Wastes," Kassi quips, rather
wry. "Speaking of insane greenriders, you missed quite the display from
Ryialla earlier... oh, dear. Swooning assistants. I don't suppose you're
related to F'hlan by any chance, A'len?"

J'cob nods his head, and steps out to the bowl. When he returns, he has
three skins. One he sets down on the table for himself, and two for
Kassima. He retrieves glasses, and opens the seal, pouring some for himself
and A'len before asking Kassi, "Care for a glass?"

Leya takes a drink of her juice and nods, "Yes, it's very good. I think it
has more flavor than the old ones." She then finishes eating it, just to
prover her point of course.

A'len raises an eyebrow at Kassima, "F'hlan? I'm afraid not. I don't have
any relatives that are riders - none that I'm aware of, anyway."

Keara nods, "That was the idea. It has some of the more popular Istan
spices, in varying amounts. The ones to the left side of the tray were
spicier than the ones one the right. Either that or the other way around."

Kassima accepts the two 'skins with a nod of thanks, slipping them securely
into her satchel and patting the bulges they make against the worn blue
leather fondly. "When it comes t'me and wine, J'cob, d'you really need t'be
asking? 'Twould be thankful for some, thankee." Turning to A'len, she
explains, "F'hlan's a bronzerider back home who's famed for making women
randomly swoon, y'see. So if'n you have a talent for same, it seemed
logical t'be thinking you might be related."

Leya grins at Keara, "I think I got the less spicy ones. Spicy food and me
don't get along very well." She then finishes eating the rest of the food
on her plate, mostly tubers, and drinks down the last of her juice, then
stands up. "I think I'd better be going. The food was wonderful Keara, and
it was nice to meet ya'll."

Keara nods and waves to Leya.

J'cob tops off his glass, and pours for Kassima, pushing the glass across
the table.

Kassima waves over to Leya, calling a cheerful, "G'deve, wingmate, and
m'regards to Tovith."

Leya hands her plate and glass to a drudge, then grabs her jacket on her
way out the door, only turning around to wave once before walking out into
the cold.

Leya walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

A'len ahhhs, and nods his head slowly, "I see. Well, I hardly make women
swoon. It just..umm...happened on accident a long time ago. On _accident_."

"How," Kassima wants to know, as she picks up the glass of wine and raises
it in a brief toast to the pourer, "d'you make someone swoon by *accident*?"

A'len takes a long drink from his wineglass before responding, "Well. I'm
not entirely certain. Maybe J'cob could answer that."

J'cob shakes his head at A'len, and swallows his sip of wine, "I've no clue
what he did to them. But, they were no good after we Searched 'em."

Keara rises and waves, and wends her way into the Inner Caverns."

Kassima sips lightly at the wine, brows lifting slightly in appreciation of
the vintage. "So how do the Assistant Weyrlingmasters come in?" She wiggles
her fingers after Keara in parting.

Keara walks towards the inner cavern.

J'cob laughs, "Well, they were competiting for his attentions rather
vigorously. And, they kept trying to kiss him. It got somewhat messy, in
fact."

A'len clears his throat suddenly, and takes another sip of wine, "So...umm.
You're name's Kassima? That's nice."

Kassima snickers quietly at that, shaking her head. "Were they proddy
greenriders, or just trying t'make him blush?" Sip. "Better than those of
m'cousins," she admits, a touch cryptic. "And at least it starts with K.
The Fortunate Letter, y'know."

A'len pushes on this most exciting line of conversation - it is, after all,
quite a bit less embarassing than the other, "Well, that's good. Fortunate
Letter? I didn't know that. What about A?"

"According t'family tradition, for a firstborn child t'be named aught that
doesn't start with K is extreme bad luck," Kassima clarifies, "and
some--like me--name all our children with it just t'be safe. I'm nay
certain about A. I'm more partial to L, naturally, but A is probably better
than... oh... W, say."

A'len nods his head slowly, and offers, intelligently, "Well, A'len sounds
better than W'len, too. Don't you think? Or Wassima."

Kassima shudders visibly. "Wassima. Eeeyurgh. W'len's better'n that, but
you've the right of it in that A'len's preferrable, methinks. Though if'n
'tis all the same, given what m'name would be without the K, methinks
'twill nay mourn that I haven't an A-name m'self."

A'len smiles slightly at Kassima, and gives her a small nod, "Well, you're
probably right. Ummm, well, I hate to be rude, and abrupt, and everything,
but I have dawn sweeps in the morning - so I should probably get back to
the Weyr."

J'cob sighs, "Yes. We probably should get back. It's even later at Fort
than it is here."

"Think naught of it--'twas about t'be taking parting m'self; we've drills
in the morning-tide, and 'tis my turn t'run them," Kassi admits, polishing
off her glass of wine neatly. "'Twas a pleasure t'be meeting you, and t'be
seeing you again, J'cob--you'll give m'regards t'Maarie, won't you?"

J'cob laughs, "Naturally, naturally. Clear skies, Kassi."

Kassima grins and bobs her head. "Likewise t'you both," she agrees,
shrugging on jacket and fastening cloak before heading out into the Bowl.
J'cob walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

You walk down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.