--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Presents of Mind


Date:  December 18, 2003
Place:  Telgar Weyr's Work Room
Game:  PernMUSH
Copyright Info:  The World of Pern is copyright(c) to Anne McCaffrey 
l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kassi's Note:  When Kisai was born, I'sai gave Kassi a belt, and 
Kassima gave Is a chalice; now that they've had a second child 
together, Is has given Kassi a beautiful fur cloak, and it's Kassi's
turn to bestow her gifts upon him.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------


The Log:

You push aside the curtain and enter the workroom.

On a spring morning like this, it's still chilly out, but warm enough that
when the door opens it doesn't raise a chorus of complaints from those
inside; one of the latter is I'sai, his feet up on a chair as he finishes
off a somewhat scattered lunch, with Skyfire's more efficient F'han
standing with his own cleaned-off plate to go.

That's as well, since the door stays open for a span--Kassi's become adept
by necessity at juggling various items or figuring out how to get into a
room with her hands full, but keeping a baby firmly en-slinged with one
hand and tugging an oilcloth-bound *something* that's at least two feet
high with the other? It's a challenge. "You can just *stop* laughing," she
raises her head long enough to call towards the outdoors--then, when she's
cleared the entranceway and given the door room to close behind, she can
finally straighten entirely and scan the room for... ah-hah. "F'han," she
greets with an amiable nod and a grin that broadens when turned on her
quarry: "I'sai. What, hiding from the Living Cavern's lunchtime crowd?"

"Who's laughing?" F'han promptly asks, and does the smart thing about
disappearing while there's still room to run, leaving I'sai - who waves,
and stands, and sets down his plate so he can take up the baby or what have
you - to hear her answer. "Let me guess, Lyss? And nah, P'list. There're a
lot of lower caverns girls who're interested ins eeing just how 'well' his
Tyroth can 'Search', and the air's a whole lot clearer in here," and never
mind the gambling that must have been going on on the side.

"Lyss," Kassima confirms, with a cheerful raspberry after F'han's
retreating back, just prior to lifting Kaisan from his nest to offer him to
his father: the baby's looking particularly bright-eyed this afternoon,
even accepting being bundled up in Merielan's gift blanket with unusual
good grace. "--I don't want t'speculate on exactly what sense the air is
*clearer*, thankee much, but 'twill be glad I'm in here and away from it
too. A very contented and happy green dragon mentioned the other day that
you'd been looking for me, so I thought mayhaps I should track you down."
With a glance towards the large oilskinned whatever-it-is, she adds, "For
more reasons than one. This is for you, too."

"Well, -Lyss-, she sees you doing all sorts of - wearing all sorts of -
well... let's leave it at 'you're hers,'" and I'sai does, gurgling back at
the baby, the baby baby baby. "Kaisan brought presents?
Presents-presents-presents?" and peeps at the boy's mother over his
shoulder. "Glad she's been in good spirits for you, too," Lyss, that is.

Kassima's brows give a hop at the first of this, and she finds a table to
lean against while folding her arms and grinning. "Now that nigh screams
for extra explanation--what has she been *telling* you? Wearing all sorts
of; I want t'hear you finish that sentence, particularly if'n it has aught
t'do with what 'twere looking for me for." Kaisan in the meanwhile is
delighted by this and gives a happy crow, one which, like as not, is
accompanied by a spit-bubble. "More presents from me," said mother admits.
"Birthing presents. But we can call them presents from him too, though one
might be more a present *for* him, depending on how you use it," and if
anything her grin broadens at how non-helpful she's being. "Excellent
spirits. She was actually in good temper all day after that muzzle rub,
would you believe it? Such a spoiled dragon-brat."

"'Clothes'?" I'sai offers helpfully into Kaisan's hair, "And besides, it's
not that she tells me anything much at all, really," if one wants to get
technical, given that Taralyth's the intermediary. "-Birthing- presents.
And here I didn't do the work. For valor in the face of Yancy?
Yancy-yancy-yancy-pants-y? ...Ah, good smile, boy. Good smile. And amazing
that that lasted so long. I'm impressed."

Kassima makes a good-natured face at him, one that might better seem
disgusted if she weren't laughing through it. "You're at your chaotic best
today; fine, then, don't tell me! Just leave me t'be eaten alive by
curiosity until there's naught left but a gnawed skeleton and some hair."
Oh, good. She's going to die like the protagonists of Zardoz. "But *you*
get t'explain it t'Kiss, and t'Kai when he's old enough. Valor in the face
of Yancy-Yancy-Yancy and his Fancy-Yancy-Pantsy, but also for thanks, which
is where the *condition* comes in. A'fore you open it you have t'sit
through my thanking speechlet. What think you, can you hack it? Would it
embarrass you *too* badly?" On Lyss, "Well, 'tis what you get for taking
such care, only she'll probably be hoping for another when she sees you
next," and Kaisan takes opportunity of all this conversation to try and
make a grab for the knot on his father's shoulder, though it may be distant
enough to be saved from his acquisitiveness.

"I'll tell So you're ready for him," I'sai teases, hooking his eyebrows up
and down, as much as Kaisan as at her, and then the reply's muffled further
as he lifts the boy up in the air, away from the knot where he can laugh
down at his father. "Fancy-Yancy-Pantsy only -I- don't know about those
fancy-pantsy-ies....and I think it would embarrass me dreadfully, which is
one good reason why you won't stop, now will you. And I suppose I could
handle another muzzle-rub. Not even charge you, you-you-you!"

"Oh, he'd just *love* t'snack on the hair at least," Kassi laughs back,
crinkling her nose and watching them together with open pleasure. "Oh,
don't you?" she teases in turn. "That's nay what *he* says--a'course 'twill
nay, since 'tis only us here and I do so love seeing you blush. But I *may*
be merciful since you're going t'waive the charge-charge-charge. May! I
don't promise." Giving the wrapped bundle a last pat, she folds her hands
behind her back; she tries to look solemn at first, but can't hold it very
long for all that her grin does shift into a genuine smile. "The speech.
Ahem. There's nay *thing* I could be giving you that would properly express
m'thanks for how good 'twere t'me from first t'last," she begins, "so I
didn't try. I'm grateful for so much--from the occasion that brought our
lad t'be," and there her smile does shade a bit wicked, "t'how you didn't
think the less of me for m'forwardness, after; for your time and visits and
gifts of mint and pine, and marbles and fur; for your general
consideration, for standing with me against that evil Healer, for
supporting me so much when he was born and just being there, and a'course
for *him*. But mayhaps most of all, for the absolute faith I have and
always had that you'll love him well all his life and be a good father
t'him as you've been t'our daughter." She pauses, and slants him a
half-serious, half-merry look. "Now, my original plan called for me
t'follow that with a kiss, as I did when I first thanked you, but since I
*said* I'd be merciful 'twill let you decide if'n you've already suffered
embarrassment enough."

I'sai makes a noise down his nose to imitate a firelizard's trill, albeit a
firelizard who's having a rather bad day, as if So were already on his way.
"Yeah, yeah, Yancy likes to think..." and he turns Kaisan around to watch
his mother speechifying, sitting back on the bench so, with his foot back
on the chair, the boy can be balanced on the upraised knee - and so said
boy couldn't see the flush that does, yes, rise up the plane of his cheeks.
"I'll certainly try," he says, "And if he's anything like Kiss - though I
fully expect him to be his own self - it'll be a pleasure." And for her
eyeing him... well, well. "You can kiss me on my nose," he says, the nose
that So may well have licked and Kaisan dripped on - though that at least
he's wiped off, it _looks_ nice and clean at least, and with that he eyes
her in obvious, teasing challenge.

Kassima makes a show of ducking and putting up her hands as if to ward off
the death lizard, but it's funny how she just doesn't seem genuinely
afraid, no, not at all. "I should add that the only thing I'm *nay*
thankful for is you showing Yancy that black lace item--really, what were
you *thinking*?" Tsk. But even if she were truly irked--and she isn't--the
flush would still bring out that pleased-nigh-unto-delighted grin. "I know
'twill," she says more softly. "And succeed. He'll be fortunate t'have you
for his sire, and I think--once he's grown if'n nay sooner--that he'll even
know it." There's an exaggeratedly woebegone sigh for having to settle for
the *nose*; but eyed like that, how could she refuse even if So were
drooling on it even as they spoke? Well, all right, maybe she could refuse
*then*. But he's not, and so she doesn't, leaning forward to kiss the nose
she's so generously offered warmly and without showing fear.

I'sai claims, "It was an accident," really, hear him now and believe him
later; and then he leans forward as well, careful of Kaisan, and gets his
kiss in turn. Upon straightening, "Many thanks. I think that firelizard
won't -dare- now," at least for a day or two, "And I rather think the two
of them are going to be -menaces- in their teens."

"Mmm-hmm." Kassi hears him, all right, but the believing later is somewhat
in question going by how amused she sounds. "Well, 'tis m'pleasure t'serve,
though I hope you're nay implying that you think m'kissing your nose
*poisoned* it or aught and 'tis why So wouldn't dare--but overall, were the
thanks so bad? I must say I appreciated the blush. And on that last...
y'know I'd lay money on it, if'n I could find anyone, anywhere, who'd be
willing t'take the bet."

"No, no, not -poisoned-. More like -preserved-. In fact, I suspect even a
snowflake wouldn't hurt it now, because it would melt away," I'sai says
grandly, ignoring that mention of blush altogether. "Although, baby
hands... and there you go. They've all heard of us. So - " and with this,
he nods hopefully toward the larger package. "What's that?"

Kassima decides, "That's much better; methinks I'm flattered. Though I'd
sooner you'd nay let it get out that I can preserve noses or aught else
that way, lest I be beleaguered by requests come next winter by people
whose ears and noses are all suffering. 'Tisn't a service I'd want
t'perform for just *anyone*. Methinks you're right about Kaisan nay being
warded off, though--he's immune to the warding. Grab his nose, Kai, why
don't you?" The baby can't understand such directives yet, but gives a
happy burble. Looking towards the package, she suggests, "Open it and see?
All for you 'tis. I can be holding our boyo if'n you think 'twill need your
hands free."

"Now, what you'd have to do is charge outrageous amounts for -them-," I'sai
teases, "To make up for the lack of betting..." and he makes as if to hug
Kaisan closer, the more so for that burble, but then eventually does offer
him up, saying, "It didn't look breakable, the way you were carrying it,
but just in case."

"I'm nay sure some of 'em *could* pay me enough," Kassi mutters, "and
Faranth knows that's saying something. You sound confident 'twould nay be
charging you!" With fair reason, to judge by how entertained she sounds.
Kaisan wriggles at being so held, more surprised than discontent; when
Kassi takes him, she cuddles him close to try and make it up to him for
stealing him away. "I wouldn't try kicking it across the room," she admits,
"but it should be sturdy enough. Just a bit awkward... well, you'll see."


---

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
To:        I'sai
Subject:   Present!
==============================================================================

	This goldenoak cabinet is a minor marvel of the Woodcrafters' art. At 
two feet of height, one of width, and one of depth, it's neither enormous 
nor terribly elaborate; for the most part, it's bare of carving, engraving, 
or ornament. The skill that went into the joining and staining has been 
left to shine with its own understated beauty. The exception to this is the
door--that's anything *but* simple, hollowed and set with stained glass as
it is. Only the outer frame is actually wood. The door itself is a glass
panel, its background an opaque black set with pinpoints of milky white.
The foreground bears a pair of dragons: on the left, a bronze dragon curls
in a crescent. On the right, a green dragon shares the same position, save
in reverse; the two would appear to be chasing each others' tails in a
moment of whimsical play. While the coloring and conformation of the
dragons is generic (though that bronze does have a decidedly champagne
cast, and the green is a darker shade than the classic norm), one subtle
clue to their identity has been provided should one look with a lapidary's
eye: the small, marquise-cut jewel set in the eye of the bronze is genuine
blue diamond, while the identically-shaped eye of the green is a crystal of
similar shade.
	Upon opening the cabinet one will discover that it has one shelf 
dividing it, the better to make it a handy repository for hides, letters, 
mementos, or the like. Currently, the shelf bears only two items. One is a 
small bundle wrapped in oilskin, with a strange, sulfuric smell, and when 
it is opened it will prove to contain eleven thin bamboo slivers with some 
sort of grainy powder coating their upper two-thirds. The other is a 
painting perhaps the size of your hand, set in a wooden frame of darker 
gold than the cabinet itself. It's a family portrait of sorts: you're there, 
standing on the left, carrying an ebuillient Kisai on your shoulders, while 
Kassima on the right cradles Kaisan in her arms. The scene's more dynamic 
than most such, though, since neither adults nor children face the viewer at
all--each parent is looking towards the child he or she isn't holding;
Kaisan has one of your fingers in his tenacious infant grip, and Kisai,
giggling, is trying to avoid the tickling poke that Kassi's aiming at her
ribs (and probably pulling on the braid of yours that she's holding at the
time; evil child!) Given that no sittings were done for this--at least on
your part--it's a fair likeness, and the artist has managed to capture well
the amusement and/or affection of all four.

	Wind to thy wings,
	Kassima, green Lysseth's rider and Thunderbolt Wingleader, Telgar Weyr.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

---


"With some reason or other," I'sai says right on cue, and reluctantly
trades the boy off, and goes exploring. "No kicking, no kicking..." and he
goes looking, seeing the back side first and then wonderingly turning the
object about, only to marvel at the glasswork and, yes, carefully inspect
those eyes. He doesn't comment with more than a small, pleased smile,
though, and tests the doors' hinges in turn... only to find the smaller
presents inside, and those sandy brows hike up for -that's- a surprise.
Opening the smelly packet first, "What -is- this? It looks... painful," and
by his boyish expression, that's very interesting indeed.

Kassima follows along to stand behind him and watch while he opens, anxious
as ever at a gift-giving if slightly distracted by the quest to keep Kaisan
from getting ahold of her hair. "Something I thought you might like," she
says, and there's *mischief* there. "'Twould nay hold one near m'eyes,
mind, or let So take a taste, but they're a Smithcraft product--light the
end, the powdery end, and they light *up*. They're fireworks you can hold.
Blue-green, they're supposed t'be."

"Fireworks you can _hold_," I'sai breathes, "And not burn your hand off - "
and by the sound of it, he will use gloves, but Kisai will only get to try
out the one, as much as she'd like to wreak havoc with them all. "Well." He
sets down the packet only reluctantly, the better to move on to the last,
murmuring something about if they ever have a third child it'll take the
whole Weyr for the gifting. Once he's unwrapped the frame -and- turned it
rightside up, he studies it for a long moment in silence - the expressions,
details of how it's drawn, all of that. At length, "We don't look like
stick figures, just sitting there, it's almost as if they move. That's
amazing."

Kassima can't but grin at his reaction; grin and agree, "Exactly so--but
don't let either of the sproglings usurp them all!" In case baby Kaisan
might get ideas too. There's a soft laugh in answer to the murmur; she
murmurs herself that if it should come to that, she'll give him Telgar if
he gives her Benden, how's that? "Khari's work," she says quietly, of the
picture. "Some of her best, methinks. I thought it might be something that
would please you, an extra way t'remember." And she's pleased, clearly
pleased, that she seems to have been right. "Thank you," she says again
still quietly but with much sincerity, and bends to study the picture with
him, perhaps turning Kaisan so that he might also get a look even if he
doesn't know--yet--that it's himself he sees.

[Editor's Note:  I had to log off at this point, so the scene ends 
here. :) ]