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Great Expectations


Date:  November 6, 2003
Place:  Telgar Weyr Lake Shore
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:  What happens when Kassima runs out of mint?  Why, she
recruits young visitors into picking her a fresh supply in the dead of
night, of course!  Ask a silly question!  Mahon drops by Telgar and 
ends up volunteering for mint picking duty; Kichevio shows up later,
and ends up plotting domination of the world with Kassi again, albeit
this time through their respective children.  Pern should probably 
worry about these two.

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The Log:

Mahon heads over from the central bowl.

It's a decidedly odd time of night for picking herbs; a decidedly odd
season for it, come to that. Nevertheless, that's what Kassima's doing.
Skirts rustling against the dead and drying grass as she walks, she's
meandering through the herb garden to one side of the meadow, muttering to
herself and leaving a large green dragon to soak up starlight and water
from the Lake's shallows in peace.

Mahon has come up this way by dragonback and is wandering about the Weyr
when he comes across the greenrider picking herbs. The lad perches on a
large rock, drawing he cloak tighter to ward off the cold. "Pardon me,
ma'am, but it is a decidedly odd time of night to pick herbs. May I inquire
as to the reason behind this?"

Kassima had stooped to pull free a sprig of mint; she straightens with some
difficulty, one hand reaching around to rest on the small of her back, and
looks towards Mahon with surprise. "Were you out here earlier? I didn't
realize--gah, please, none of that ma'aming; save such addresses for the
old or respectable. I'm picking herbs because I've run completely out of
mint sticks." By her woebegone tone, this is something of a tragedy. "So I
have t'be making do with some alternative. 'Tis an odd time of night t'be
out here on a rock, too--what brings you? Stargazing?"

Mahon admits that mint is an essential herb for.. whatever Kassima needs it
for. "Yes rider." he murmurs politely. "I came up to look around and
perhaps sniff out any employment oppurtinities at this Weyr." The lad says
with a smile, "My name is Mahon, my lady."

Kassima tucks this latest sprig into a pocket of her gown, already reaching
for another. "You're agreeable," she observes, sounding amused; it's a
friendly sort of amusement, however, rather than anything mocking.
"Employment opportunities, aye? Been a bit of that going around. I'd nay be
one t'know where they're most needing help, but if'n you're any good with
beasts the Beasthold can nigh always use hands; or if'n all else fails,
there's washing dishes or cleaning latrines. Nay very glorious, but it gets
you a place. And I'm nay lady." The amusement's back again. She flashes him
a quick grin. "As most of the Weyr could likely tell you. Kassima, green
Lysseth's--Lysseth's that hulking shadow over there. Pleasure t'be making
your acquaintance and duties t'your people, and all that.

Mahon chuckles, "Well met Kassima and Lysseth. My duties to Telgar and her
queens." the lad says with a nod to both rider and lifemate. "I've done my
fair share of handling beasts and what not, and I've washed dishes and
cleaned latrines. A job is a job and worth doing, as my father says." He
grins curiously, "May I ask what you use the mint sticks for? Are they a
sweetner alternative like the substitutions they've had to make at Igen?"

Lysseth makes no sign of acknowledgment, which prompts Kassi to apologize,
"She's drowsing, and her manners are deplorable besides." Even *that* gets
no draconic comment. "But she'd appreciate the thought. Don't know whether
I'd agree that *all* jobs are worth doing, but there's bound t'be someone
that thinks they are. Else nay anyone would do them. I imagine with such
experience as that the Headwoman or Steward should be able t'find some post
t'which you'd be suited." Moving towards the nearby Bowl wall, she settles
into a lean against it, folding her hands lightly over her much-rounded
midsection. "More like mint's soothing to the stomach. Some people would
claim I'm *always* eating it when I'm pregnant, and I'm nay sure I could
make much of an argument with 'em. I'sai's been wonderful about supplying
me with the things, but the last batch he brought me is gone and if'n the
Healers have any more they're hiding them pretty well... I'm pleased t'say
we're *nay* having t'go without sweetner. Thanks be t'Faranth for that; I'd
go mad."

Mahon blinks and chuckles, "How amazing that I should meet with two
pregnant riders from different Weyrs on the same day." the lad says and
nods, "Forgive me, Kassima, but I had not noticed your cause for
congradulations. Do I assume that I'sai is the father since you mentioned
him?" He stands from the rock, "Might I lend a hand in the picking?"

"We do tend t'spawn in clusters," Kassima comments, sounding entertained.
"Who was the other lady so fortunate, or so afflicted, as the case may be?
Pshhh, nay need t'be asking forgiveness. I'm grateful enough if'n anyone
manages t'miss it." She gives her stomach a rueful look. "Quite an
accomplishment when I'm rivalling the bloody runnerbeasts for size these
days. You've guessed aright, he is. Have you met him? He's been stationed
at the Smithcraft Hall as a watchrider for the past few months, so I'm
guessing nay... oh, by all means you're welcome t'help if'n you want to.
Don't feel obliged though; you needn't go t'any trouble on my account!"

"Oh I don't mind at all, especially if I might press upon you to relax a
spell whilst I collect it." the lad goes about picking sprigs of mint. "The
other lady in question, besides yourself, is Terrilia from Igen. I've not
had a change to meet I'sai, but I imagine he is an interesting fellow as
most riders seem to be these days."

Kassima's brows slant upwards, but far be it from her to look a gift chance
to relax in the mouth. She settles in more comfortably against the rocky
wall. "'Twill nay naysay you if'n you're sure you want t'do it, and 'twill
thank you. What, Terri's pregnant again? Huh!" That, too, seems to surprise
her. "I hadn't heard. Wonder if'n 'tis by that weyrmate of hers, or... oh,
'interesting' is a safe word for I'sai, methinks. One of many."

Saulith flies in from above.

Kichevio slides down easily from Saulith's neck.

Kichevio slips off Saulith's neck as the green lands by the shallows,
grinning widely at something unspoken. She has a slightly crooked garland
of multicolored leaves on her head, and a few more keep drifting out of
unexpected corners of clothing. 'Tis the season. "Because there weren't
enough leaves to make you a crown too, that's why. You know she would if
she could." The green rumbles sulkily and settles into the water to soothe
her wounded ego. "Evening Kassi, evening you-whom-I-have-yet-to-meet. Don't
mind her, she'll forget her troubles soon enough."

Mahon shakes his head as he continues to pick and pile mint for the
pregnant greenrider, "I know not, Kassima. She did not make mention the
father being a weyrmate or not." He looks over and winks, "I use
interesting until I meet them. It's safer that way." The lad looks up and
smiles to Kichevio, "Ma'am." he says politely.

Kassima leans back against the Bowl wall, near the remains of the herb
garden, looking--as one might expect--on the weary side. At least she's
still relatively cheerful. "Probably 'tis; she and V'lien have two others,"
she explains, almost as an afterthought, "and if'n their pairing's survived
his time at Benden even in lesser fashion... but you never do know. You're
nigh guaranteed of being accurate with that word, in any rate." There's a
grin to follow, and then a nod up to the begarlanded Kich. "Heyla, Kich.
Tell me she's nay proddy? I'm in nay bloody shape for running away."

Kichevio laughs, shaking her head cautiously. A few more leaves drift down
anyway. "No, no proddiness on the horizon. She's just grumpy because
Kiralee made me a crown and not her. Never mind that there aren't enough
_trees_ around to make her a crown." Saulith just snorts and lashes her
tail once. A small tsunami ensues, but doesn't reach the humans onshore.
"We'll see how long it takes her to find a distraction." She eyes Mahon,
grins her customary grin (some things don't change), and offers a hand. "My
name's Kichevio, not 'ma'am'. I've been called interesting as well, among
other things. You know V'lien and Terrilia, or did I mis-eavesdrop?"

Mahon makes sure his hands are clean, well as clean as they can be and then
shakes Kichevio's hand with a smile, "Well met Kichevio." he says politely.
He shakes his head though, "I had met Terrilia this morning at Igen and had
commented that I had met two pregnant riders on the same day."

Lysseth, drowsing in the shadows, cracks open one eye at the tsunami and
gives a mildly irritated rumble. "Suck it up, Lyss," Kassi murmurs under
her breath. That's sure to win her a lot of brownie points with the green.
"Well, then, that makes rather more sense--I still think Lyss is envious of
all the cookies Kazy got for his Turnday from m'indulgent family, but she
a'course denies everything." After the introductions, she asks, "Had *you*
heard Terri was pregnant? 'Twas news t'me when Mahon here said it."

Kichevio is arranging herself tailor-style on a large rock, out of range of
draconic splashing, and blinks at Mahon and Kassi both. "No, I hadn't. Been
so occupied with Kiki and getting back into the Wing, I haven't been
noticing much outside the Weyr. She's pregnant _again_? I need to sew her
something." The instinctive reaction. "You're visiting from Igen, Mahon?"

Mahon smiles and shrugs, "Not exactly. I was visiting in Igen when a rider
offered to take me here to check out job oppurtunities." the lad with a grin.

"Why work here and nay at Igen?" Kassi asks to think, curious. "The
weather's certes better there; there aren't many people who can move
happily to an ice cub of a land--how is Kiki?" she breaks off to ask Kich,
automatically smiling. "And what *again*? 'Tis only her fifth!"

Kichevio winces visibly. "_Only_ her fifth," she echoes. "Two is enough,
two is plenty, I love my girls, never again." And somewhere, Fate snickers.
"There's some kind of sweetener shortage at Igen, maybe you wanted to look
for someplace with more mealtime opportunities, Mahon?" She flicks a leaf
at the young man teasingly, then visibly brightens at the mention of her
newest daughter. "Kiki's doing well. Mostly in the creche now, but I visit
as often as I can, and so does K'ran, according to the nursery workers. And
she has this _poof_ of hair--" She flips her hands out from her head in
illustration. "Black as mine, or as K'ran's. She looks like some odd sort
of flowering plant when she's wrapped in blankets." She clarifies for
Mahon, a bit belatedly, "My daughter, Kiveira, we call her Kiki. Ten
sevendays old."

Mahon smiles, "She sounds like she'll grow into a lovely young lady,
Kichevio." The lad turns to Kassima, "I thought I'd check here, for as much
as I love the desert, I'm not sure the summer sun still agrees with me, for
all that I fostered in the area when I was young."

Kassima intones, adopting a pious tone, "When eight spawn you will have,
your prerogative t'be saying *only* five 'twill be. You mean you wouldn't
want even one bonny son? They're worth the having, real darlings--even if'n
there is the extra difficulty with swaddling them. I'm counting the days
until Kaswyn's nay in diapers anymore." No doubt. After some consideration,
she abandons her standing lean and sinks down to a seat on the ground. Her
cloak's sturdy; it can hack it. "'Tis adorable she's sounding." Mahon gets
a considering look. "You don't look too terribly scorched, but mayhaps I
can be understanding. I found it a relief t'get away from the humidity and
heat when I first left home... I've since changed m'mind, mind you, but a
Telgar winter or two might at the very least be a change of pace."

Kichevio can't decide which to comment on first, the Telgar winters, or the
extreme unlikelihood of her _ever_ beating another child. "The day that the
man can do the labor for me--no offense, Mahon--is the day I have another
baby. Bonny sons or not, and I agree that Kaswyn's adorable. We should
arrange a match between them, for your giant family tree." Ah, parents
plotting their childrens' future. How heartwarming. "I'd rather be scorched
than frozen," she admits candidly. "At least scorching leads to a nice tan.
After you've been nuried in a snowdrift right outside your door, Mahon, you
can decide for yourself."

Mahon nods taking up the pile of mint he'd been picking and sets it near
Kassima, "There you are, Kassima." A long, lanky rider, whose blue is
equally long and lanky can be heard calling Mahon's name and the lad sighs,
"It seems I am to return to the Igen area., ladies. It was nice to meet you
and your lifemates." He smiles to both and prepares to head off to the bowl.

"You have a point," Kassi has to concede. "What, Kaswyn and Kiveira? Hmmm.
Kivyn *is* a comely name--" Whatever further child pimping she might've
done is mercifully forestalled by the smile she gives Mahon. "Thankee. This
should serve me another day or two, at the least," she says, gathering the
mint and tucking it carefully into her pockets. "Clear skies on your
journey, aye? And duties t'Igen and her queens, or wherever else you find
yourself."

"And if you come visit again, bring us back some warm weather," Kichevio
adds, waving to Mahon and his rider friend. Sounds good, Kassi. Kivyn, or
maybe Kasveir. They sound like strapping boys who'd defend their parents'
and grandparents' honor."

Mahon laughs and nods, "It'd be an honor, ladies." she says with a smile
and trots off to see the rider.

Mahon heads in the direction of the central bowl, leaving the shimmering lake.

Kassima crinkles her nose. "Oh, couldn't the first one be a lass?" she
wheedles. "A granddaughter t'carry on all the traditions of evil? I don't
know about you, but I don't have any yet. There's time for grandsons
*later*, for the granddaughters t'torment and t'sire legions of
great-grandchildren. 'Twill need both t'make sure we're great genetic
successes!" Ah, Kassima. A woman of amazing priorities.

Kichevio waves an expansive hand. "The first two names to pop into my head
sounded like boys' names, but granddaughters first, by all means. Legions
of Ks, until in a few generations, the Weyr will have to change its name to
Kelgar. And oh great _Faranth_, I should _hope_ I don't have grandchildren.
Kiralee didn't mention anything. I've no doubt I'm an aunt and possibly
great-aunt, but I'm not ready to be anyone's gramma yet."

"Or mayhaps part of m'line might go home, and reform Benden into Kenden,"
Kassi imagines, at once wistful and amused. "I'd try t'come back from the
final *between* t'see *that*. Shells, I'd hope you don't either! Kiralee's
far too young. 'Twould be disturbing and disgusting if'n 'twere a grandmum
already. But someday! Someday! Your lasses shall provide you with
grandchildren aplenty, and they shall go forth and spread your name unto
the people; yea, and their line shall be your line, and their victories
your victories, forever after and into eternity." Pause. "Or something like
that."

Kichevio unfolds herself, laughing softly. "And the chosen among each
generation shall be known because they dye odd colors into their hair, and
they shall lead their brethren forward into the places of the world which
do not know the power of the K. It's a nice thought. And on that note, I
should go check on the second harbinger of that blessed day. Are you all
right out here with your mint?"

Kassima agrees blissfully, "Whereas the scions of my line shall be known as
such by the knives they carry, and the great clouds of fire-lizards that
flock unto them. They shall seize the East by blade and fire and form from
it a new people of such wealth and good fortune that all the world shall
tremble in fear of their wrath!" Let's hear it for parental expectations?
"Oh, thankee, I should be. Though if'n you catch any Healers hiding the
stuff, 'twould appreciate it if'n you'd pass their names onto me so I can
harangue them. Best wishes t'you and your wee one, aye?"

"I'll not only harangue them, I'll pass their mint stashes on to you,"
Kichevio assures Kassi.

Kichevio disappears up onto Saulith's spring-green back.

Saulith takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to carry her
aloft.