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I'sai, I'sai, He's Our Man!  If He Can't Sire Spawn, No One Can!


Date:  November 29, 2000
Place:  Telgar Weyr Hot Springs
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 another comeback log.  After my second big idle
period, I decided to ease back into RP by going down to the Springs to
chat with Mart; as usual, conversation between these two characters 
turned swiftly to rivalry.  And also as usual, I'sai came up as a topic
of conversation.  Will Kassi be able to steal him away from Mart to be
her second Wingsecond?  Will Skyfire finally beat Thunderbolt in 
dragonpoker?  Will I'sai find out about this conversation and kill them
both?  The same suspense as always--it's good to be back!

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The Log:

You wing over the spiky cliffs towards the wafts of steam.

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.

M'rgan is without his lifemate, children, and weyrmate as he relaxes in one
of the small pools. Their absence could account for the smile on his face
and the smoothness of the lines around his eyes.

Lysseth sweeps down from on high, her wingbeats churning fresh gusts in the
caverns; her rider, already wrapped up in towel and bath-robe, skitters
down from her neck with alacrity and practically dives for one of the
springs. Ker-sploosh. Great; just when Mart finally gets to relax, his
archnemesis shows up. Isn't that always the way? "Cold," Kassi coughs upon
resurfacing. "Cold, cold, cold, *freezing*, ow, hot, hot--oh, g'day there,
brownie."

"Well if you're going to fly through the air half-naked, *of course* you're
going to find it cold," M'rgan replies as he cracks open his eyes and wipes
the water off of his face. "Y'know, I've seen it all before. You don't have
to hide it from *me*." And he gives his arch-nemesis a playful leer.

Kassima glares at Mart from under the comma of dripping black bangs, really
succeeding only in looking ridiculous. "'Tisn't fair t'be saying such
things while I've naught t'be throwing at you," she chides, aiming a splash
at him anyway. "Besides, y'know full well all Pern would come to an end
if'n I ever went about without covering. How'd you manage t'be escaping
your responsibility-horde?"

M'rgan instantly lifts his hand, blocking most of the splash from his face
and letting it slap harmlessly against his shoulders, neck, and hair.
Though he keeps his hand up a little longer, in case any more splashes are
headed his way, he tilts his fingers to the side so that he can peer around
them. "The Harper's having the kids put on a play and I just got back from
sweeps." He smirks a touch at his cleverness when he set the schedule. "So
I've got an hour to myself or so."

Kassima does look half-prepared to send a second splash, but reluctantly
drops her hand upon seeing that Mart isn't going to cooperate. Meanie.
"You're nay fun at all," she grumbles, but halfheartedly. "Well, that's
something. I've finished m'own work, but 'twas spilling ink on m'hands like
a regal idiot and decided I might as well try t'warm up m'frozen bones with
a soak." That would explain why Lysseth, fresh-oiled, isn't descending into
the water's depths; she's content to curl up beside the spring and be lazy.
"What's this play business? Kim and Ky are in it?"

M'rgan inclines his head agreeably at Kassima's quesstion and after a few
more seconds he too lowers his hand. "Sort of. They're in the background
and they mostly just sing along with everyone else. If you can call that
singing. Supposely the teaching song is about being careful in the cold and
snow but Kimlyn and Kyjain make up most of the words as they go along."

Amazingly, Kassi doesn't immediately dash off another splash while his hand
is down. Maybe she's too tired. Maybe she's merciful. Maybe pigs fly. "'Tis
nay surprising me, that; I suppose, considering their parents, I should be
glad they're nay making up verses about how wearing buttless pants can
freeze your seat off. Give 'em an extra kiss from me tonight if'n the
Harper doesn't report that they've muffed too terribly?"

"Kena'll report on how they do but I'm sure they'll be fine." M'rgan
pauses, his gaze turning thoughtful. Abruptly he gives out a quiet, tiny
snorting chuckle as his attention returns to Kassima. "Assuming Kimlyn
actually took her thumb out of her mouth and and Kyjain didn't punch
anyone." He rises up a few inches to stretch his arms out on the lip of
stone behind him. "You haven't been thinking about taking them back, have
you?"

"Need t'be finding some way t'be making that thumb taste bad or the like,"
Kassi comments absently, though not without fondness at the thought of the
twins. "Coat it with something bitter, mayhaps--only 'twould be wearing off
too soon... and as for Ky, I've nay a clue what you do about a punching
lad. Kris never tried t'be hurting anyone. Did Kegan, when he was younger?"
The question brings her focus fully to the here-and-now. She gives a
startled blink. "Mart, a'course nay. D'you really think I could raise one
child m'self, much less two, and both of them hellions? You and Kena have
been taking wonderful care of 'em."

M'rgan quirks an eyebrow at Kassima. "If thumb-sucking is the worst thing
that she does, seeing as she's greenrider-spawn and all, I'll live with it.
Besides, I don't want to listen to her screaming when she can't suck her
thumb." The brownrider lays his palms flat against the stone as he sucks in
a deep breath, stretching out his chest. "Ky's just doing it for attention.
He likes to hear the other kids yelp. He'll grow out of it. Kegan and
Daryan did." He grins broadly at the woman, showing all of his teeth. "I
don't know if I'm relieved or not that you're not ready to take them back.
After all, as you said, they *are* hellions."

Kassima chortles heartlessly at that. "'Twill nay be, mark me--she'll plot
against you in secret when she's old enough, and nay doubt get her brother
t'be doing the dirty work for her. Mayhaps even have him switch places with
her, if'n they're young enough and can manage it; they look enough alike
for that, methinks... ah, now, wanting t'hear screams, that's a desire I
can sympathize with." She waggles her brows. "Must be inherited from my
side of the family. He'd best nay cause too much ruckus, though." This
tooth-display does earn him another splash, though a weak one, and not
really intended to reach its target. "What were you expecting when you
asked for 'em? If'n you wanted t'raise a quiet child, you should've asked
for Kris."

M'rgan snaps his eyes closed at the splash and only cracks them open when
he hears the plink of water against water instead of the splorsh of water
against skin. "Kris wasn't a baby anymore when Jannea moved out. The only
babies were the twins. So it's not like we had any choice."

"'Twill be making you a deal, then: if'n 'tis your wish, if'n I've ever
another child, you can have the option t'be trading the twins for him or
her. I'll get two for the price of one." Yes, Kassi's being facetious;
she's not quite so inconsiderate of the twins' welfare as that. "I'd nay be
holding m'breath, though, if'n 'twere you. I suspect you're stuck with what
you've got."

M'rgan feigns a weyrlingmasterish sort of snooty expression as he tells the
greenrider, "Do I have to give you the lecture on the importance of
timonflower as well? What's with everyone having babies lately?" The
brownrider pauses in speaking just long enough to pull his arms down from
the lip and to run a hand through his damp but drying hair. "Of course, if
I'sai would stop fathering all of them there wouldn't be any around."

Kassima gives a snort, and extends one foot to try and poke the other
Wingleader in the ribs. "'Tis nay a thing that I bother with, since I've
hardly the need of it." She sinks a bit further under the water herself,
her loose hair drifting and floating to make the area around her seem
black. "Has he sired another? Last I heard, his tally was up t'four, with
that spawn of Lanryi's--*Lanryi's*. 'Tis almost obscene, that. She used
t'be a wee lass following me about, encouraging me t'be impressing 'boo'
'lizards, and now look!"

"I thought it was five." Water sheets down from M'rgan's hand and plops off
his elbow as he lifts his hand into the air and starts to count off his
fingers. "There's Saskia's twins. And Ryialla's kid. And Lanryi's.
And...And...I could've sworn there was one other." With a shrug he lets his
hand fall back down under the water, sending out rippling waves from the
crash site. "Anyway, I've already told him that he's to keep Taralyth far
away when ever Cymrith rises. That's something that I could never live down."

Kassima shakes her head anew at the mention of Ryialla and Lanryi, the
loose hair dragging at her to make the gesture slow. "Well, if'n there is,
I've nay heard of it--but that's scarcely surprising. I've been out of the
gossip loop for a time and a half now. And now, brownie, be fair--he
doesn't get a woman pregnant *every* time, y'know; Taralyth caught Lysseth
once, and I'm free of Is-spawn." Of course, she was carrying the twins at
the time of that flight, but why mention such petty details?

"You were already pregnant at the time," M'rgan is quick to reply. If she
won't mention those petty details, he will. "If the female rider is
pregnant already, or male, there's no problem. If the rider's female though
and not pregnant...Well, I've told him to keep his Hot Pants away from
Kena. There's plenty of other greens out there for Taralyth to chase after.
Besides, the kid probably wouldn't like dragonpoker and I'm not raising any
kid like that."

"Well, aye," Kassi admits, reluctant. Curses! Trust Mart to foil her
arguments with petty things like truth and logic! "But what about Maylia?
Taralyth flew Tierth, and she didn't get pregnant. Neither did Dossa, over
at Ista." Her tone is vaguely triumphant. Let's see you trump that,
brownboy. "Faranth's fecund fecal matter afire--why wouldn't it like
dragonpoker? I'sai's a bit of a gambler. Though nay enough of one, granted."

"All right. All right." M'rgan holds up his dripping hands in a placating
gesture. Drip. Drip. Plink. Drip. "So he didn't get them pregnant *every*
time. Still, with the way my luck goes at the worst possible time, Kena'd
end up pregnant." He tilts his head to one side, but since his damp hair is
stuck to his head it doesn't move a bit. "Are you serious? Have you ever
seen I'sai even touch a dragonpoker deck? I haven't. He always gives me
some excuse when I try to play a game with him."

Kassima sees fit to inform Mart, helpfully, "You're dripping. And I can't
be arguing that your luck sometimes gives out rather conveniently--just
look at the way I last cleaned out your marks-pouch for an example. I do
think you're being paranoid, though; Kena's never ended up pregnant from a
flight that I've ever heard of. If'n she drank the Water a'forehand,
now...." Some superstitions never die. She tips her own head back to
consider, black brows swooping down and forming a furrow. "Huh. Now that
you mention it, I don't think that I have. And methinks most of m'victories
over him have been more bribes than bets. Mayhaps he's heard of your
amazing dragonpoker prowess, and fears t'be testing himself against you?"

M'rgan's disparaging snort is quite loud, making his point for him. Though
he does add in case his point was confused, "I don't think he even knows
how to play. At least Ceria's /trying/ to learn. One of these days I'm
going to have to sit I'sai down and have a long talk with him about what's
expected of a Skyfire wingsecond."

"See, now, he should be a *Thunderbolt* Wingsecond," Kassima decides. "I
should steal him from you. A Thunderbolt Wingsecond only needs t'be siring
plenty of spawn, and he can do *that*. A'course, 'twould be happier if'n he
gambled, but nay anyone's perfect." She offers her archnemesis a bright,
sunny smile. "So what say you? Can I have him, huh, huh, can I?"

M'rgan hesitates for only an instant before answering, a smirkish sort of
smile spreading across his face. "Certainly. Then when I challenge him to a
game of dragonpoker, for the honor of Thunderbolt and all that, and he
can't play, Skyfire will be the winner. As usual. I can't say that I'd mind
that at all."

Kassima protests at once, "You can't be challenging *him* to a game for the
honor of Thunderbolt! 'Tisn't in the rules! Only I can be playing for the
Wing's honor. 'Tis m'sacred duty. And what's this 'as usual' bilgewater?"
She raises herself up enough to aim another splash at him. "We're kicking
your tail nine times out of ten, and you're *knowing* it."

M'rgan waggles his eyebrows at Kassima and he doesn't even try to duck her
splash. That's how confident he is. In fact, if he wasn't sitting in the
springs, his whole body would be glistening from the confidence and
arrogance oozing out of every pore. "If he's a Thunderbolt wingsecond then
he can play for the honor of Thunderbolt. Or don't you trust your
wingseconds? Hmmmmmmm?"

And Kassi would probably throw a towel at him and tell him to stop
glistening indecently. She doesn't have to glisten; she lets her eyes do
the gleaming, dark depths lit with the memory of past triumphs and the
anticipation of future victories. "Y'know ruddy well I don't trust anyone
*that* far. T'play him for the honor of Thunderbolt, you'd have t'see him
as Acting Wingleader first, and the only way he'd be that would be if'n
'twere injured or pregnant. Which I don't think Kena would approve of you
trying, brownie, sorry. Besides, you've already *had* your chances." She
waggles her brows back to show that she is--as always--jesting. "So as you
can see, we're *always* going t'be wiping the floor with you."

"Then I guess you can't have I'sai," M'rgan says smoothly, his voice almost
oily with smugness. No matter how she argues, he'll always end up the
winner in this discussion. "Although that Acting Wingleader/pregnancy thing
might work out also. Especially if it was Ularrith that caught Lysseth."
That playful leer from the beginning of their conversation is back again.
"Wouldn't that be quite..." He breaks off his words for a second, his gaze
turning inward. "Well, the play's over and Kena wants me back at the weyr
to get the kids to bed."

"Terrifying?" Kassi supplies, ever-helpful. "Apocalypse-causing? Either of
those terms would work. And you're welcome t'*try*, Mart, but only if'n you
make a bet with me about it first. For fifty marks, say?" Her turn to be
smug. She may have that much money, but she's pretty sure *he* doesn't.
"All right, all right, but just remember that I'd be willing to take him
from you the next time you're saying he can't be making a proper Wingsecond
for you. Give m'best t'your lady, hey? And don't forget those extra kisses
for the younglings."

"Extra kisses and best wishes. Got it." M'rgan clambers out of the water
and takes his time toweling off and dressing. His breathing is a bit off
from normal as he sucks in his stomach the entire time that he's showing
off. Yeah baby he's got it. I'm your Adonis. I'm your fire. What's your
desire. After closing the last button on his shirt and pulling on his
sweater, he gives Kassima a bow of goodbye.

Kassima rolls her eyes up towards the skies and quips, "If'n you're
expecting me t'be waving mark pieces about, brownie, your timing's
terrible; I don't even have any with me." Nevertheless, she grins and
brings one hand up from the water to salute back. "Go, go, off to Kena and
the children with you."

M'rgan winks at the greenrider and disappears.