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When the Dealing's Done 


Date:  May 30, 2001
Place:  Inner Infirmary
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:  Credit goes to I'sai for the title of this log, which
was inspired by Kenny Rogers' 'The Gambler' and Is's reference to it in
a pose. :)  It seemed fitting; though Kassi's won her bet on I'sai's
children, she couldn't count her winnings until she'd given birth to
their daughter and provided the critical eighth spawn.  Many thanks go
to Kichevio and Ryialla for being a wonderful peanut gallery, to 
Sauscony for being a fantastic Healer (even without flower petals! ;)...
and most of all to I'sai, without whose assistance this entire TP 
wouldn't have been possible.  I find it very easy to understand why
so many women have spawned with him. :)

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The Log:

Sauscony is settled in a chair close to the doorway to the infirmary. On
her lap are several hides and a cup of tea rests in her left hand. From the
look of concentration on her face, she is reading over case notes.

Kassima's hand reaches for the curtain to draw it aside, with just a hint
of impatience. Just a wee smidgeon. Not impatience with anyone in
particular; just with the whole issue, which, all things considered,
probably isn't difficult to guess. And oh, yeah, there's a big green snout
hovering not far behind her. "Remind me t'skin her later," she mutters to
I'sai, wherever he is, before espying Sauscony and blinking. Twice.
"Faranth's teeth, y'mean there's a Healer other than the flower petal freak
around this time?"

"I'll do that," I'sai assures as quietly, no doubt when his hand's in
extremis; while Lysseth has pride of place, Taralyth's not above angling an
attempt to peek along that sinuous neck, diamondine facets stealing any
light she lets slip past - and his voice cracks on, "Sauce? -Sauce-?
What're you - what'd you do with - "

"I suppose I should be relieved that I am not known at the flower petal
freak." Soz comments wryly. Her gaze immediately dropping to Kassi's
midsection as the hides and the tea are set safely away. "Good Evening,
Kassima?" She seems a bit hesitant on the name, all hesitancy gone as she
spies I'sai. "I got hungry" She comments absently as she rises. "Would you
both come with me?"

Oh, he'd nodded for the flower-petals, the more so for being _hungry_ - but
I'sai says from Kassi's shoulder, protective, "Better not be far."

Lysseth would *normally* no doubt politely make way for Taralyth, but
normal isn't the word of the moment, and the protective green's too busy
rumbling and thrumming with worry to pay attention to what Miss Manners
taught her. Still, there should be some room left for a view. "Nay offense
meant," Kassi assures, blinking once more for good measure. "Only every
other time I've done this--had a baby, that's t'say--that *Ushu* was here,
trying t'put flower petals down m'shirt or Faranth only knows what. If'n
'tisn't far," and there's a brief, grateful smile back to I'sai, "then
methinks I can manage, aye."

Sauscony leads the way, just a few steps to the first enclosure. "Would
they like to watch?" She questions as she considers the doorway, most
particularly the size of it. "I am not sure that they would fit through."

Kichevio emerges from behind the tapestry leading to the outer infirmary.

Kassima trundles obediantly after, thinking to unbutton and remove her
cloak now that it's no longer needed. It's a good sign if she still has the
presence of mind to remember such things, right? "Lyss would watch in a
red-hot minute if'n she *could*," a testimony which is born out as that
green muzzle tries, and fails, to poke past the curtain. "I always tell her
she can't, but she never listens. What d'you need me t'do?" As she asks,
she throws a glance back at Is; it's one of those half-pleading looks: you
*will* let me maim you soon here, yes?

So long as she doesn't lift her head and flatten Taralyth's on the ceiling
- just in case, to help her remember he's there, the young dragon seeks to
run his jaw lightly along the line of her spine; his rider relaxes a scant
degree at seeing where they're directed, assents and guides her. Even unto
the maiming. "Perhaps... perhaps," he summons fragile humor, "He's
-gathering- those flowers of yours."

Kichevio is casting an odd look behind her as she follows moments after
Kassi and I'sai. "I wonder if the Healers know they have dragons loitering
in the waiting room--" And her voice cuts off abruptly at the scene before
her. "Oh boy. I'm tempted to stay and watch, if only for all the new words
I'll learn. Should I say congratulations, Kassi and Is, or something along
the lines of 'abandon all hope'?"

Dragon> Lysseth and Taralyth sense that Saulith sends an inquiring little
flame. << Why are you in there? Are you sick? >>

"Undress and slip into this please." Soz instructs once Kassi is within the
cubicle. Turning her attention to I'sai, she indicates a stool by the head
of the cot. "That is where you will be stationed." She notes as she turns
to leave the cubicle, closing the curtain behind her. But then a voice
draws her attention, a glance going to Kassi as if seeking permission of
the newcomer.

Dragon> Lysseth and Saulith sense that Taralyth shares an appreciative
glimpse of the back of Lysseth's neck.

Lysseth> Taralyth and Saulith sense that Lysseth would normally be terribly
amused by that, no doubt, but her thoughts are rather dark and flurrying,
light beating against crystal rather than beaming from it; << It is my
rider's hatchling, >> explaineth she.

I'sai only reluctantly lets Kassima slip - slip away, slip out, slip in -
and he's not above adding, "Let me know if you need help with, I don't
know, buttons or anything." He pauses there to rock the stool, see whether
its legs are even, and - though pale eyes slant toward the sound of
Kichevio's voice - defer to the women whose job this truly is.

Dragon> Lysseth and Taralyth sense that Saulith lets her own firelight
shine and refract through crystal in happy excitement. << That's good! She
will be happy to have a new one to play with and teach to fly. >> Ah, the
duties of motherhood.

Oh, she wouldn't do *that*, would Lysseth. At the gesture of comfort, she
turns her head slightly to rumble worriedly to *him*; and oh, yeah, she'll
shift a scant fraction to allow a slightly better view, too. "I hate this
part," Kassima grumps. "Undress, undress, as if'n we're all R'val, used
t'stripping in public--" Which doesn't stop her from obeying, with another
quick smile to reluctant I'sai and as much haste as is plausible. "Nay
buttons," she assures, muffled. "I did say 'twouldn't be long, so I
wouldn't wear aught complex--" Pause. Rustle. Pause. "Kichevio? Shards,
what're you doing here?"

Sauscony offers a slight smile to Kichevio as she moves over to a basin and
begins to rinse her hand and arms in redwort. "Once you have changed,
please lie on the cot." She suggests over her shoulder before asking
Kichevio. "Have you ever assisted with a birth before?"

Kichevio takes a prudent step back. "Ointment for my arm. A few more days
and I'll be back to perfection. But I can always come back later. Much
later." Even though she'd love to watch and see if the child-to-come has
any odd birthmarks or causes an earthquake. She answers Sauscony hastily.
"I delivered Jazmin's daughter Zaemina in the Living Cavern, if that counts.

"She wants to practice," I'sai teases of Kichevio, eyeing the curtain as if
it were ready to be ripped free; and as she clarifies, retorts in turn,
"Practice for her own." But light as his voice is, his eyes are hooded
dark, the more so at the blood-red that's gloving high up the healer's arms.

Kassima is a moment in repeating, "Lie on the cot," a moment which is
occupied by contracting muscle and soft, under-the-breath cursing. "Lie on
the cot," she says again, more audibly. "I can be managing that." She only
glares at Kich rather than ordering the other woman out, so probably she
could stay--even if only because she's busy trying to obey the 'lie on the
cot' order. "...Is, I'd just like t'be noting something here--nay matter
how much I scream, I don't really hate you, I promise. But what you said
about next time? There won't *be* a next time, unless you really do want
t'die."

Dragon> Lysseth and Saulith sense that Taralyth shimmers overlay for that
crystal, diamond reinforcement intent as a bulwark: beat as she may, beat
as she must, he'll be here.

"I do," I'sai avers. "When I'm toothless, Taralyth's muzzle and the rest of
him is gray, and we can no longer flame..." but he shudders that way,
focuses instead on discarding the stool in favor of pillowing her back up
as much as she likes and they're allowed.

Sauscony's first instructions are to I'sai, not really noticing the change
in his expression. "I would like for you to monitor her breathing, and to
hold her hand." She nods to Kassima, expression intent as she considers the
woman. "How far apart are the contractions?" She asks before tipping her
head to the basin. "Now you, please rinse your hands thoroughly with the
redwort please. I need someone to hand me the utensils."

Lysseth> Ryialla moves into the Infirmary from the bowl.

Lysseth> Taralyth and Saulith sense that Lysseth is not much comforted by
the sentiment, not with the jagged black and red of shared pain, yellow of
worry, streaking through her matrix; sorry, logical thought is just
impossible right now. If you'd like to reach a sensible dragon, please hang
up and try again later. Though that diamondine glimmer does soothe,
slightly, and the beating becomes less violent if still as fast and
flurried as the heartbeat of a frightened bird.

Lysseth> Ryialla clears her throat as she spots Taralyth and Lysseth. "'Ey.
Is it time, guys?"

Kichevio murmurs something that sounds rather like "Darnit Soz, I'm a
dragonrider, not a midwife!" but obediently goes to scrub her hands in the
redwort wash, examining the instruments with assessing eyes--clean, sharp,
ready-to-be-used. "Yes ma'am."

I'sai toe-hooks the stool to Kassi's side, offers her his hand - both hands
- the better to try and envelop hers, and not the other way around.

Lysseth> Ryialla shrugs, and attemtps to make her way past said dragons
towards the inner infirmary.

Kassima snorts with something that would, in other circumstances, be
amusement. "All right, then; at that point, if'n by some miracle we're both
still able, we can do this again and 'twill kill you so you can at least
die in battle. Sort of. Thankee," for the pillowing, which she takes
shameless advantage of, and never mind that her loose hair probably tangles
around his fingers. "About five and ten minutes, methinks. Water's already
broken, that's why I'm here--" She takes that hand, squeezing it once in a
non-painful fashion. All future squeezing will not be of this type.

Dragon> Lysseth and Taralyth sense that Saulith keeps her fire--home fire,
hearthfire--burning, soft and soothing warmth. All will be well.

Ryialla emerges from behind the tapestry leading to the outer infirmary.

Dragon> Lysseth and Saulith sense that Taralyth's backlit, firelit - but
his focus remains on Lysseth, undaunted and unstinting as sea or sky, or
the vast spaces between the stars: there, there, he's there, he's _here_.
And her rider; they shall yet see.

Sauscony drags over a stool with her foot, then pulls the tray over to a
stool close by. "There you go, umm. Kichevio?" She says the name
tentatively as if not sure. Next she carefully sets a frame across
Kassima's midsection, then a sheet over that creating the tent that she
will work within. "Five to tem minutes?" She muses before addressing I'sai
and Kassima. "Okay. While he counts to 10, I would like you to breath in.
Then while he counts back to one, I would like you to exhale. Alright?"

Ryialla manages to stick her head in the door, peering about curiously.
"Hey...I've got a lump making noise about spawnings outside and trying to
warble. Is she nuts or am I in time to help?"

Kichevio nods quickly. "Kichevio. Or just Kich." She doesn't sit down quite
yet, and spares a wave of her redworted hand to Ryialla. "You can be the
other spare hand, Ryi."

I'sai mutters something about being expected to count to ten at a time like
this - and relents to his hand's capture; leaving those dark strands
wrapped 'round his fingers might distract her from yanking any second time,
but he carefully seeks to disentangle them even so. Meanwhile, "One, two -
" his head whips 'round, "...Ryi?"

Kassima watches this tent-making with some curiousity, some bemusement.
"This is an improvement over the usual scheme of things," she can't help
but observe, while threading her fingers through his. "Breath in, breath
out. I can do that. Methinks." Who can be sure? But she's willing to try.
Just forgive her if she doesn't greet you beyond a quick blink and a
halfhearted wave of her free hand, Ryi.

"I think the next number is three." Soz prompts, not seeing Ryialla at
first. But then she hears the offer of help. "Could you start on the tea?
There is a packet in my packet labeled Soz's mix 7"

I'sai senses Kassima adds before all this breathing starts, in a quiet
murmur for your ears only, "You're nigh as nervous as *Lysseth*--I won't be
admitting it soon enough, y'know, but it *will* all be all right," and then
she breaks off to obediantly inhale.

Ryialla quite understands being greeted - but Ryi gives Kassi a big ol'
grin before going to find some of the odious redwort to dip her hands in.
Dirty hands and babies being bad things. "Spare hand I shall be. Hullo, Is.
Kassi break any fingers yet?" Oh, she's wonderfully cheerful. Too cheerful,
by far.

Kichevio wrinkles her nose at the mention of tea--but then, giving a woman
in labor klah might be a Very Bad Idea. "Breathing's usually a good idea.
Combine it with breaking fingers, maybe?"

I'sai's obscurely flushed by now, Ryialla and all; and he says, voice just
a touch thready, "Give her time. Why don't you bet with Kich on how many,
hm?" But he's never straightened from Kassi's side, fair head tilted nigh
to black; to her, then, "Take care that Sauce doesn't stick a mint-stick in
your mouth while doing that... joking, only joking, and where were we;
four, five, ten - "

You sense I'sai whispers, soft, "Nine, eight, seven."

Lysseth> Taralyth and Saulith sense that Lysseth can borrow, perhaps, from
that strength, her own--not inconsiderable usually--bound and paralyzed by
this physical distress of her other self that *she* can do nothing to
allay; can borrow enough from sea, sky, and space to calm that other
fraction, and settle in to a quiet hum in thought. She may not believe yet
that all will be well, but there are supports of hearth and home to sit by
while one waits.

Sauscony eyes I'sai for a moment, moving around the tent to reach for
Kassi's wrist, "May I?" She asks quietly as she does so. "How are you
feeling?" She asks shortly after.

"Four," Kassi offers from the cot, once she's finished exhaling that long,
slow breath: her bet. "I don't usually break thumbs. Mint would at least be
a distraction--" The words cease in favor of a silent--this time!--grimace,
and most unkind pressure on I'sai's hand. Bad time for Soz to ask that
question; though she lets her wrist be taken, she growls, "I've been better."

I'sai senses Kassima does, after that fierce crunching, have the presence
of mind to squeeze the abused hand more softly once. Apology.

Dragon> Lysseth and Taralyth sense that Saulith lets her own hum, a strong
warm tone, add to Lysseth's in support.

Ryialla mms. "I'm thinking not any /broken/. Shattered beyond recognition
anyway, but..I shan't tease. Hullo, Kich. Where shall I stand?"

"See if you can find some mint sticks in the cabinents as well." Soz calls
over to Ryialla before returning to her stool. "Now we wait." She says
quietly.

"I'm feeling..." right, right; I'sai starts over, the more so at that
hand-clench. When he has breath again, "Five, six, pick up sticks..."

"Seven, eight, give 'em to Kassi straight, especially if they're mint,"
Kichevio continues, pointing Ryi in the direction of the hearth and herbal
stores. "Tea-stuff might be in there. I think. If nothing else, at least
the water can be boiled, and that's supposed to help."

You sense I'sai accepts it; doesn't question it, not the clench and not the
gentler touch; "Once upon a time, there was a woman named Kassima, and she
wrote all sorts of stories about herself, and her daughter, and the rest of
her family. Which was a pretty remarkable family."

"Okay," Soz raises her voice slightly so that Kassi may hear. "With the
next contraction, I would like you to bear down please."

Oh. Oops. Kassi has the grace to look sheepish at having misunderstood the
question's direction--though it's still a mildly peeved sheep. She mouths,
'Seven, eight, lay them straight,' while inhaling. After, "What, nay
walking, nay research, nay flowers, nay everyone getting drunk? This has
t'be the most *sane* birth I've ever been to." Reflectively, "Ironic, that.
Kich, remember how I used t'be encouraging you t'spawn? I didn't mean it."
Soz's words get a nod, quick and determined.

Kichevio beams widely. "Thank you; I've been vindicated."

Ryialla bobs her head in agreement. "Mint sticks and tea-makings. Got it."
As she gets towards the cupboard, she looks down at her red-stained hands.
"Mint and redwort. Mm, mm, good." Still, she starts a rummaging. "Ah hah.
Mint sticks." Pulling the jar out, she trundles it ovrer to Kich. "I can go
get some flowers if you truly wish to be dusted with petals, Kassi...if
nothing else, I've the firelizards - and Shar's good at taking directions."
The humming Shar pauses for a moment to chirp brightly from her perch on
Ryialla's shoulder. "But tea first - and I'll put the water on." Which she
does.

Dragon> Lysseth and Saulith sense that Taralyth eases that hum, that
commingled hum - and, thus waiting, shapes a circle, a circle that spins a
sphere 'round about the pair of them, and lights it with aurora's spectral
shimmer. Those near may still see, but it's as if through a glass darkly.

I'sai senses Kassima listens in silence that's filled only by measured
breathing, leaning in slightly to hear. The last garners a faint and
faintly breathy laugh. "That," she whispers to him, "is one word for them.
Or will be. For *all* of them."

Sauscony offers Ryialla a quick smile for the mint, observing. "Redwort
adds a distintive flavour." Her head peers around the tent at Kassima and
I'sai, her gaze considering before she diseappears beneath the fabric.
"Could you lay out some towels, please, Kich. They should be right behind
you in that cabinent.

"Safer for us all," I'sai says without looking up; and he adds after
quieter words, and his free hand lifted to gauge the heat of her brow, "And
drunk's for later. Not too much later, mind... Sauscony, must I still
count, if she's breathing anyway?" As opposed to, say, stopped.

Kassima mutters, shifting back a bit further until she's found a
comfortable level of propping, "Methinks I can live without it, Ryi, but
*too* kind of you t'be offering--" A sentiment which breaks off raggedly as
the one expressing it concentrates very hard on doing as Sauscony earlier
bid. "Oh, bloody shells!" she wails when the contraction ends and she has
her breath. That's a wail of true distress. A shame it's for no better
reason than, "*Without* that Healer, who will I plot t'murder? Names,
names, someone give me names--"

You sense I'sai agrees softly, measuring the breath-beats with emphasis
rather than actual words; "All of them. Remarkable. And memorable. And we
won't think about their messy diapers, y'know; we'll think about the toys
delighted in, and spilled, and how baby Kisai followed in her mother's
footsteps to - because she's so small, see - hunt all the
Slither-offspring, with mother's knife and father's... make that, father's
mother's yell - "

Kichevio rummages for towels, and emerges with a veritable tower--no such
thing as too many towels at a birth. Her hands leave a few red smears, but
nothing too obvious. "Here, Sauscony...names? Kisai, Kassai, Karsain,
Issim. Child-Who-Caused-The-Breaking-Of-Many-Fingers. Kissandri, Simaisa,
Saikisa..." My, she's a name-book.

"'Kaisin,'" I'sai drops in, easing back on his bootheels as Kassima shifts,
the better to watch her, see to her. "'M'rgan.' But only if he makes
-Ceria- wingleader before he quails. L'cher, Pierron,
Breaking-of-the-whatever, yeah, that's a good one - Maybe something cool
for her forehead? A bit of snow or some such, so long as it's clean - "

I'sai senses Kassima's brow is reasonably warm, and probably reasonably
sweat-sheened; never mind the temperature of the room. "Faranth, there're
enough negatives right now without bringing *diapers* into this... can you
nay yell on your own?" Still a hint of amusement to it, but just that bare
hint.

Ryialla says dryly, "I'd offer my weyrmate, but I've plans for him, still.
If I ever get /time/ to pin him down to talk to him about them, that is.
Sometimes, I swear, I wish I could manipulate the stuff. I'd make this
easier, too. Tweak, and poof. Labor all done." She putters about, getting
tea ready for when the water boils. "Or do you mean child names? I'm sure
it'll be K-/something/."

"As long as her breathing remains even, you can stop counting. She may need
you to count just to have something to focus on. But she is doing well for
no..." Her words trail off as the contraction hits. "Very good. I can see
the very tip of her head now." All babies are she's until they prove
otherwise. "Good, I'sai, A cool cloth would be good if you would be so
kind, Ryialla." A nod of thanks goes to Kich as the towels are draped
across her lap.

You sense I'sai's a touch perplexed - but he can leave off with the
diapers; "I can yell, just not so much in tune, and you should see the
holdboys jump," I'sai suggests. "So Kaisin, he's gone off hunting, and
he... he... comes across this fish. And it's a talking - did she say she
could _see_?"

Kassima blows out a long breath, falling back down fully to the pillows.
Poor Is; keeping up with her position may end up something of a dance. "I'm
*nay* naming any son of mine M'rgan," she warns, eyes fluttering closed. "I
didn't think you wanted t'pin him t'*talk* t'him, Ryi." Here, though, her
eyes fly back open: "You can? Shells and shards, this one's actually being
*swift* about it. Mayhaps 'twill actually even nay scream the Cavern down
this time?" Oh, pathetic hope. Doomed-to-be-destroyed hope.

There's a muffled sound from outside, and Kichevio rolls her eyes.
"Saulith's offering to roll a snowball in for you, Kassi. I wish she
wouldn't try and be helpful." She hunkers down to check what Sauscony's
said, and nods. "Catching glimpses. She-or-he _is_ hurrying up. Aware of
its audience, no doubt."

Ryialla says over her shoulder, "Cool cloth, got it. And see? I'm getting
better at this tweaking already." A few moments later, she comes over with
a cool cloth, and says, "Now. I'm assuming I'm going to wipe the /forehead/
here, and not an elbow or somesuch?"

I'sai senses Kassima might likely usually *notice* this puzzlement and
explain, only now, now she's distracted to a tee. "--She did," she murmurs,
her whispering a bit ragged by now. "This seems t'be going better than the
last--"

"Count, focus, all right - " I'sai slides down, hands and all, to try to
_look_, report back to Kassi; only, he's held in check the more that she's
prone. "What's it like? Look like? Fast - Ryi, why don't you let me wipe,
you can hold her hand - no? No. ...You're going to catch him, right?"

You sense I'sai slides forward, the better that she can have his rest, and
he hers, can feel the work- and dicing-strengthened muscles of her forearm;
"...Better is good, and Kaisin's not twins, 'member, and so the talking
fish says... says... says that it's not about naming after M'rgan, it's
about your slaying with... and then the fish turns into a _ship_fish, no,
not a shipfish, not an eel, an... a runner, who whinnies, and tosses his
mane and..."

"Oh, for Faranth's sake, Kich, please don't make me think about where
you've been looking next time I have t'give you an order in drills,"
Kassima groans, clearly mildly mortified. The beauty of one's sixth child:
one's used enough to the process to have just little flashes of time for
luxuries like embarassment. Very small flashes. Is is either fortunate or
unfortunate; with the next contraction hitting her, she can't pay as much
heed to *his* checking as she otherwise might, but his hand--assuming she
retains hold of it--is suddenly caught in a much worse grip than anything
given thus far, a crunching accompanied by a shrill soprano scream. Hers,
ostensibly.

And it's hers; but I'sai's indrawn - yanked-in - breath fairly hisses
through his teeth; funny how pale he's gotten all of a sudden, spare hand
a-twitch.

"The thought had occurred to me." Soz murmers to Kich, her tone wry. "Wipe
anyplace that seems to need it, probably her forehead and neck." She
instructs before wincing at the scream. "Healthy lungs." she comments
before adding. "A bit more of her head."

I'sai senses Kassima gulps for breath as the echoes of her screaming fade,
leaning this time as much to rest her head against him for a moment as to
hear; no apology for any maiming that may have ensued, only her attention
and attempts to focus. "...You should write this down," she drags up the
energy to whisper after a moment.

Kichevio hunches her shoulders under the double impact of scream and hiss,
eyes flickering between greenrider and bronzerider. "Just keep breathing,
both of you. And remember, Kassi, you can't die, because otherwise you
can't kill Is. And killing him would be _much_ more fun than just breaking
his hand." Her brand of help.

You sense I'sai forces a smile - but it's only forced past tensed muscle,
not according to any lack of humor; "...I did give you my right hand for a
reason."

Ryialla's brows arch, but she does not comment as she bends over to mop
Kassi's brow. She will keep doing what she's doing, thank you very much.

Kassima dropped back after that scream escaped, her even breathing turned
into something much more akin to gasping. "Can't kill him," she drags out.
"Then who'd change the diapers?" Ryi, lucky Ryi, gets flicked a glance of
something that might be gratitude. Maybe. But it doesn't seem to be
irritation, and that's an improvement of sorts. "How much *longer*?" she
asks the Healer, half question and half plaintive cry.

No doubt Is'd have sharpened a glare on Kich in better days - but as it is,
he doesn't so much as protest the diaper-changing: that's for later, oh
yes. "...Can't... much... longer..."

"May I have the forcepts please." Soz asks, indicated the instrument with
her finger. "Not too much longer." She assures the mother. "Just a few more
pushes."

I'sai senses Kassima finds, somewhere, a very faint smile at that. "Wise
man," murmurs the woman. "Insane, but wise."

Kichevio passes the forceps, and noting I'sai's pallor and gasps, asides to
Ryi, "Maybe you could find some smelling salts or something. The father
might need it."

"Just... few... more..." and this time I'sai's croaked exhaustion is more
clearly exaggeration, for all that Kassi-turned gaze hides the dancing
light in his eyes from all but her; "Need... it... salts... wine... S'riv's
stash..."

"If the tea is ready, Ryialla." Soz begins, 'Perhaps you could pour a cup
for Kassima. It might help with the pain." Thereby reducing the screams,
one hopes.

Kassima's response isn't really very civil, snarled as it is. "*Just* a few
more, easy for you t'bloody fardling well be saying." Not that listening to
Kassi's screaming is all that easy in and of itself, and *this* time she
pours energy into screaming not wordless agony, but a stream of curse words
corruptive enough to eat through metal, and a hand-squeeze no stronger than
the last--but neither any fiercer. Until that last bit. Squeeze, squeeze.
Grated out: "Don't taunt me with things I can't have!" Forgive her; she'll
no doubt find it highly amusing *later*. "Help with pain?" she asks
hoarsely. "Something can *help* with the pain?" Her free hand flings out in
demand for whatever it is; at least she doesn't yell, 'Gimme, gimme!'

"Not till afterward," Kichevio informs the Dying Man (tm) severely. "Or
you'll make Kassi jealous. And we _really_ can't have that."

You sense I'sai doesn't precisely relax into the smile - which is just as
well, with that snarl coming; he says, half-choked, "_Breathe_."

Ryialla takes a look at I'sai - a long, piercing sort of look. "S'riv's
stash my foot. It's only a birth, I'sai. Surely you can take a little pain.
But.." She gives a little wicked grin, and says, "Salts and wine. Now that
is doable.." She's got that look in her eye that once resulted in the
traumatization of the weyr with a hand puppet.

Sauscony gently closes the forceps before announcing. "The top half of her
head is free." Fortunately Soz is behind the tent, she missed the look and
the trauma associated with it.

I'sai senses Kassima's voice approxomates the growling timbre of an
infuriated watchwher: "*You* breathe."

"Not... at the same _time!_" I'sai yelps at the would-be travesty as much
as the entirely too memorable hand-clench: "Can't she even have - have -
have a taste?"

You sense I'sai does; and, "Beware, or I'll breathe on you - " but, no
threat, it's only light, to cool the sheen where fair skin neighbors hair.

Kichevio is being a Good Example. Watch in awe; you may never see it again.
"No, not till afterward. If she's still awake."

Ryialla snaps her fingers. Caught already. But...the gleam hasn't quite
gone away as she pours a glass of wine. Quite salt-free, as she clearly
makes no moves to put anything in it other /than/ wine. Solemnly, she looks
to Sauscony a bit curiously, then shakes her head. "It's really not a good
idea. I never got any, after all." She hands the glass to Kich, she being
closer to being able to hand it to I'sai, purportedly.

"Where's that Faranth-fragging pain-reducing *tea*?" Not single-minded at
all, are we, Kassi? Well, she can be forgiven, coming right after another
long and high-pitched scream as that did. No words; she either lacks energy
or the focus necessary. "I--want--this--t'be--*over*. Wine or nay wine.
*Please*!"

"Wine, no. Tea yes." Soz patiently instructs, if a bit distracted. Her
attention is focused on the child.

I'sai senses Kassima is rather past humor, increasingly past more than
screaming, crunching fingers, and hanging for dear life onto that hand even
when she's not maiming it; but she gamely rallies for a second's breathed,
"Wouldn't dare. I'd bet you."

Ryialla promptly goes to retrieve the other thing - the nicely steeped tea.
That's handed over as well.

"One more push." Soz observes. "But this one will be the worst as we get
her shoulders free." In other words, all that are able to may wish to cover
their ears.

"Even if - dipped - corner - wet - in?" I'sai asks through Kassima's
words-stealing scream, and he doesn't think to question what quality of
wine might be found about an infirmary - only, quieter words steady him
from that frenetic humor, irises stretched gray about the black expanse of
pupils.

Kichevio takes the wine glass--and does an interesting little
sleight-of-hand, you'd almost think she'd added something. Then passes the
glass to I'sai, with a mournful shake of her head. "Against _my_ better
judgement..."

You sense I'sai - the worst! - stays focused on her: he would, he would,
there are bets he'll make and take. And now he's _looking_, hand bearing
her up -

"I'sai may drink that wine. Kassima may not." Sauscony states from behind
the curtain. How she knew who had the glass is one of those healer mysteries.

Only managing to keep from snatching the tea by being too tired, Kassi sits
up enough to gulp it down as quick as can be, heat or no heat; burnt
tongues and throats are nothing whatsoever to labor. "One more," she
whisper-echoes. "Just one more." Not ready yet, she gathers breath instead,
preparing... she doesn't even gaze longingly at the wine. Miracles *can*
happen.

Ryialla says comfortingly, "You can do it, Kassi. It's much faster than
'Saira was - you'll be done soon." She offers to mop Kassi's head again,
ready to move her hand back if it's rejected.

I'sai senses Kassima leans heavily back into that hand, out of exhaustion
rather than design; let him look, she's beyond embarrassment, beyond almost
anything besides that preparation and *focus*--

I'sai's undiverted from his focus, but those miracles also give his
dangling hand the glass - followed by a too-automatic sip, a sputter, and
of all things, a _swallow_. At least it wasn't a spit... though the glass
does threaten to fall free.

Kichevio nods, managing to sound comforting while staying out of
bone-shattering-grasp range. "Close, very close. One more big push should
just about do it." And I'sai just gets...a smug grin? While suffering his
agonies? Heartless Kich.

Sauscony keeps a careful hold on the forceps with one hand, her other
supporting the baby's head.

You sense I'sai's grimacing, all right; but it's from the wine, the salted
wine - and that expression of hers, he'll _remember_, as much as that very
different extremis three seasons before.

Surprisingly, perhaps, Kichevio gets a heated and deadly glare. Maybe
Kassi's not entirely beyond notice after all, and anyone poisoning I'sai
but *her*-- Well, revenge can come later. She allows her head to be mopped,
murmurs something that might be thank you, and then takes a deeeeeep
breath... the better to let it out in a looooooooooooooooooong scream,
agonized and tearing, as she gives her all to this final effort (and to
breaking I'sai's fingers). Or at least, she hopes it's the final effort. If
Soz was lying, she'll probably kill somebody, so let's all hope it's the
final effort too.

Ryialla winces in pain - her ear being rather too close to that scream for
comfort. It also diverts her from seeing I'sai's expression, as she brings
a hand to her ear to bap at it. Her only comment is a succint, "Ow."

Kichevio says _something_. But it's drowned out by Kassi's scream. Which is
probably good, because it wasn't going to be too polite anyway. Reeling
from the screech though she be, she still keeps a towel at the ready, for
the arriving spawn.

I'sai's had enough experience to know when to fold 'em, know when to hold
'em... but he's not walking away, and he's not gonna run, hunkered down as
he is even into that scream, that clench, _waiting_. And, well, maybe
Isleen'll see to his fingers, after.

There is a long silence behind the cloth, then a startled hiccup followed
by a lusty scream. It seems the baby takes after her mother in the
screaming department. Soz straigtens, the baby wrapped in the towels.
"Would you like to hold your little girl?" She asks of Kassima.

-I'sai- would, by his expression - but though he may lean over one-handed,
it's only in attempt to guide their daughter safely to her mother's arms.

Kichevio breaks into a grin, redwort-stained, deafened, and all. "She's
sweet, Kassi. Ten fingers, ten toes, and your vocal cords."

Ryialla mms. "Would another 'Ow' be appropriate here?" Her face breaks into
a smile both pleased and wistful at the same time. "She's beautiful,
Kassi." Let's hope she doesn't get I'sai's nose.

Kassima collapses back onto the cot, a perfect picture of pale and absolute
exhaustion. All right, maybe not perfect. Perfect pictures wouldn't pant.
But at that cry, at that question, she somehow finds the last crumb of
strength needed to rise up, hold out her arms. "*Would* I--" The baby may
be screaming, red-faced, wrinkled, and bald, but Kassi wants her anyway,
and will assist I'sai with this guidance as much as she's able. "Oh," she
whispers as she draws the loud bundle in close. "Oh, oh, oh."

"Ow. Ow, ow, ow," is I'sai's hushed echo, rubbing his fingers with his good
hand once the baby's seen her good home; "...I'm -so- glad she wasn't
twins. Perfect, as is."

Kichevio gently brushes the loose threads of hair on the infant's head
before leaning back to let the parents adore.

Kassima thinks after a few moment's staring, accompanied by soft and
meaningless sounds and touches to soothe those lusty cries, to shift her
position--hers and the infant's--so that I'sai can better see. "Perfect.
And beautiful, isn't she?" she murmurs, very softly. "Except... where's her
hair?" She blinks her bemusement, and one hand frees itself to pat at the
blankets as though that hair might have fallen off and somehow gotten lost.
As an afterthought, she looks up to dart a quick and beatific smile to the
others; to say, soft indeed, "Thankee."

Sauscony watches the pair for a moment before she returns to her work,
swift and efficiently working until she is able to gently cover Kassima's
lower half with a blanket.

Ryialla chuckles. "It'll grow." A quick dart of the look at the parents,
then she visibly covers her hand with her mouth. Bad Ryi. No biscuit.
"Ah...Sauscony? I actually wanted to get your opinion on something...um.
Sometime. You know. No big rush or anything."

Kichevio laughs, very softly. "I don't doubt the hair'll be along
eventually. With her mother as an example...is now the proper time to ask
about names?"

"So stole it," I'sai breathes so softly, as unfocused a tease as his light,
"...And you can thank -me-." And, fingers revived, reaches to brush the
line of baby-chin, of baby-nose, and her mother's hand.

Sauscony steps back to finishing her cleaning up, keeping a careful watch
from the corner of her eye.

Kassima doesn't notice Sauscony's work at *all*, which says something for
the intense euphoria of new motherhood. "'Twill grow," she repeats instead
with a silly smile, as if this were news. "'Twill grow." In the meanwhile,
she can kiss that tiny, hairless forehead, then raise her eyes to the
baby's father. "What, as if'n you did the work?" she teases back, followed
almost at once by a quiet and deeply sincere, "Thankee indeed. She's... a
blessing. A gift." Cloudy blue baby eyes watch the strange man without,
likely, seeing; Kassi sees, feels, smiles, then says, "Names. We *just*
discussed names, believe it or nay."

Ryialla mms. "Seriously...are you definitely going to go with another
K-name, Kassi, or 'twould an I be a possbility? Although I keep hearing
'Isasi' in my head, and I don't know if that would work or not."

I'sai leans in, freckles standing out in mingled appreciation, exhaustion -
for all that neither may compare to hers - "And since Kaisin won't work
after all... oh, Ryi, Ryi; you know she wants the fortunate letter."

"Kassis or Kasai?" Soz suggests from the corner.

Kichevio shrugs. "Add an 'A'--Kaisina. Or a 'K' to Ryi's suggestion.
Kisasi." She giggles a little. "And we can call her 'Sassy'."

"A'course I do," Kassi agrees with a breathy thread of humor. "Me, with a
non-K child? 'Twould surely end the world, and such a wee, pretty, perfect
child shouldn't be saddled with the apocalypse." It makes sense to Kassi.
Trust her. Looking back to Is with eyes both bright and damp, she asks,
"Kisai, then?" She tries not to crack a grin at the overheard suggestions.
She fails. Give her a break; it's been a hard evening.

Ryialla holds up a hand. "Oh, I imagined not. N'der seems to think this is
the one where Kassi will change her mind. Of course he's wrong, and he'll
regret being so." A flicker of a wicked grin. "Kaisa. Kisa? Kinsai."

"Kisai," I'sai concurs without needing too much thought, though he does
add, wry, "'Kisasi' would nickname such that even -I- wouldn't wish it on a
child..."

Kichevio can't help adapting it one more time--"Kiasai?"--before bowing to
Kassi's choice. Since she _did_ just go through the whole labor thingie.

"You have a little while to think up names." Soz notes in amusement. "But I
would like you to stay here tonight, if you don't mind." she asks of Kassi.

I'sai can't resist the hurried, "Inside? But we were going to the -Lava
Lounge-..."

Kichevio says innocently, "But we have wine here."

Kassima repeats, firmly, "Kisai. She looks like a Kisai. Or will, when she
has hair." Of course, she has to snicker at I'sai's point, though that
snicker is punctuated by, "Ow, ow, ow--evil man, making me *laugh*... oh
but he's right," she adds, dry as dust. "We had our *hearts* set on going
to the Lounge and getting drunk and getting a headstart on a sibling for
Kisai. Really."

Kassima adds as a more obediant afterthought, "I suppose, though, that if'n
'tis Healer's orders, we'll just have t'leave the celebration for another
day or two. I hope you aren't *too* crushed, Is."

Kichevio groans. "The fact that you can say that ten minutes after
childbirth..."

"I need to check that blend." Soz mutters as she slips towards the office.
"Must be something in it."

I'sai's shoulders just shake, that antic humor returned - however tempered
for young Kisai's sake - "I'll survive. Barely. And..." a slewed glance to
Kich, "Don't know about you, but -I'm- taking it as a compliment."

Ryialla says dryly, "Shall I go talk to K'nan again, and see if we can't at
least work on a heart-sib? Of course," she says, watching the departing
Soz, "I still do need to talk to the healers and see if I /can/...but
practice surely can't hurt."

Kassima only flutters her lashes at Kich, if without the best effect.
Adrenaline or no, she's still too exhausted for proper fluttering. "Only
with I'sai," she agrees piously. "He's special. Ryi, if'n you can watch
labor and still want a bairn, I say you should *go* for it." Casting a
painfully warm and pleased smile at the now-drowsy bundle she holds, she
murmurs, "Nay that 'tisn't entirely worth it, mind."

"You would," Kichevio returns smartly to I'sai, but she laughs as she says it.

Rather than reply in words, I'sai simply relaxes into that faintly smug -
tired - air; he does ask after a time, "What and when will you tell 'Saira?"

Ryialla hms. "I hadn't thought about it, really. She seems quite fine with
her other half-sibs, so...anything in particular that you would /like/ to
say?"
\
  Name           Sex   Position         Status                       Idle  Q
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
* A'ser          (M)   Greenrider       Enhance your calm.            11m    
* Erdrick        (M)   Stablehand       Ex *Erd/Trans*                23m    
* Fiora          (F)   Wingsecond                                      1m    
* I'sai          (M)   Wingsecond       Work-idles-R-Us                4s    
* K'ran          (M)   Wingsecond       Winner-TGWMavOfTheMonth        3m    
* K'tyn          (M)   IGW Weyrleader   Join the Army, They said.      5s    
* Kassima        (F)   Wingleader       Kisai: Miss Yggdrasil '01      0s    
* Kaylira        (F)   ISWCandidate     Kisai's biggest sis           11s    
* Kichevio       (F)   Greenrider       Lady Marmalade                 0s    
* Lanryi         (F)   Wingsecond                                      7m    
* Ryialla        (F)   Greenrider       Oh, no. Not again.             7s    
* Talisha        (F)   Greenrider       ASunThatShinesOnOnlySome       1m    
* Tarien         (F)   Resident         NotMyMother'sDaughter         12m  -
------------------------------- ( 13 players ) -------------------------------

Kichevio moves toward the exit, smiling. "I'm going to go spread the word.
'Night, you lot."

Kassima relaxes back into her pillows to listen, and make yet more a fool
of herself cuddling the baby. Her murmur of, "G'night," to Kich is quiet
enough to possibly be missed.

Kichevio pushes the tapestry aside and enters the outer infirmary.

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth takes a moment, just a moment, to
reach across in that dark glass and brush a dazzling touch of crystal and
light, warmth and affection, gratitude and joy--all for him. (All right, so
a lot of it's for her rider and the new hatchling, but the *gratitude* at
least is all his.)

"Something..." I'sai does tilt his chin Kich's way to serve as wave, and
even tiredly smile, before he sinks back. "...Something where she'd like
it. Y'know? And like _her_. Imagine she won't get to come see herself for a
while yet, but at least she's better than most at being gentle - Myk sends
good wishes as well, Tear says, and jokes about our stealing her hair, and
not to let Myshel - who he's visiting - do any experiments. But 'Saira,
now, she'd be sweet."

Ryialla nods, and says, "Yes, she would. And will. I think, though, for
now, I'll just leave you two alone. Congratulations, both of you. And
hello, Kisai." She waggles fingers at the baby before smiling warmly at
both of you and sneaking out.

Ryialla pushes the tapestry aside and enters the outer infirmary.

Kassima smiles at all this talk of children, children's relations, good
wishes; "I wouldn't be allowing any *experiements,*" she comments with
raspy mirth. "Poor little one, were she subjected to that so soon." She
smiles after Ryi, calls something appropriate. And then settles back with a
soft sigh. "I forgot t'say that I'm sorry for hurting you a'fore."

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth, so touched - so lit - will shiver
light, dancing mirrored welcome... aand if it's likewise for that hatchling
of theirs, it's likewise for hers: brighter than a chandelier, and rather
than being a galaxy, it's so very, heartbeat-near.

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth leans close to that light in thought,
leans close to its source in physical touch, and her facets flash and spin
to join the dance--in delight, in celebration, in thankfulness for health
and his own brilliant nearness.

A long look follows Ysaira's mother out - and then I'sai merely says, "It's
all right; your due." And the shadows tease about his smile, his, "No
experiments but -ours-."

"Still, I shouldn't have." Kassi does smile back in amused agreement, but
it fades to an expression of simple, quieter, weary delight. "I shouldn't
let the night close without saying a thing--I doubt I did a good job of
showing it at the time, but I appreciated your being here, and nay
screaming at me, and letting me maul you, and actually being helpful.
You're a unique sort of person... one I'm glad t'have as the father of
m'daughter." Abruptly her nose crinkles in silent humor. "That's the end of
the sentimental overflow for now, I promise."

"If you say so," and I'sai doesn't take it as a promise; just leans,
gently, over their sleeping daughter, the better to stroke a strand of
black hair from its damp cling about canted eyes. The better to see her by:
"We'll keep each other around, then, hey?" and quiets, then, to see her -
see them - through the night.