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O Fortuna


Date:  September 7, 2008
Place:  Igen Weyr's Living Cavern
Game:  PernMUSH
Copyright Info:  The World of Pern is copyright(c) to Anne McCaffrey 
l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.

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Kassi's Note:  It's becoming a Candidate class tradition for Beli to 
hold a fortune-telling for everybody.  The turnout this time is better
than the last, if anything, and of course Kassi has to find out who's
destined to munch on Lord Holders and then spawn thirty-seven 
children.  Sadly, no one is!  But with the certainty of hindsight I
can guarantee that some of her predictions will come true....

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The Log:

IgenW-LC> Beli wanders in, looking quite the picture of crazy. It's not
just the turbanesque headgear, it's the assortment of items in her arms,
with a misshapen bag slung over a shoulder, too. Also, there's her
expression: a little vacant, a little intense -- even for Beli. She seems
pleased with something, however, as she makes her way over to an empty table.

You head into the Igen Weyr Living Cavern.

R'din comes in from the Bowl.

Naara comes in from the Bowl.

Neiravi comes in from the Bowl.

Sitting at his wing table with a glass of wine and a relaxed look is
W'adru. He draws with the tip of his finger on the table top, eyes in that
far out spacey look that either means one of the cavern girls has flurted
with him again or Nergath is having a talk with him.

Celane emerges from the kitchen, wiping a bit of sweat from her brow-- and
missing a rather large smudge of flour across her cheek. More importantly,
her other arm is wrapped around a plate of freshly baked pastries. A bribe
for the seer, in search of a good reading? Does it matter? They look tasty!

Desdinova comes in from the Bowl.

Kassima wouldn't miss the announcement of which Candidate will devour Lord
Vorlin *this* time for the world, and she trots into the Cavern with a
decided spring in her step. "I didn't miss it?" she asks the room at large
anxiously. "I'm nay late? Has she said if'n W'adru's still due t'have
fourteen children?" Not even the lure of the future can keep her from the
lure of wine, mind you; she heads straight to the table to pour a glass
before the rush, and spoon up a bowl of the cheesy vegetable noodles besides.

Kaveshun was taking a break from kitchen duties with a big bowl of hot
herdbeast stew. You'd think with the amount he eats, he'd be a bit thicker
than his scrawny boyish self. But there he sits, slurping noisily down his
dinner. As Beli is caught in his eyesight, he pauses with the spoon
half-raised, eyeing her warily before continuing with his messy meal, if a
bit cautious of the strange girl now.

R'din, still wet, but not as soaking wet as he was before, enters the
Caverns barefoot, leading three Candidates behind him. Humming a tune to
himself, the rider makes his way over to Beli, seating himself. Making
himself comfortable at her table, R'din leans back into the chair and
watches the Candidate expectantly.

Neiravi comes in behind R'din, her feet bare, her hem a little damp and
sandy, and with a general aura of sun, fresh air, and (for some reason)
dragon breath. "I hope my eating dinner won't impede my reading," she says
as she veers off towards those cheesy noodles. "And I *hope* I'm not having
fourteen children. I'd rather not know that ahead of time."

Beli makes it to her table, empties her arms of their items -- a teapot,
cups, two small wooden cases, a soft pouch of something, a long locket, a
giant book, among others -- and after a quick trip to the serving tables
for a pitcher of hot water, she's back, her tea is brewing, and her items
being sorted. And then she's sitting, smiling, and glancing around the
caverns - she notes W'adru and Celane first, and then R'din earns her
attention with his approach - as do those bandying about all those mentions
of fourteen children.

W'adru chuckles, a deep, soft sound. "Mind that you aren't responsible for
one or two of them, Kassima." he says jovially enough. His eyes seem to be
focused on the Cavern again. Well, not exactly, more the glass of wine he
now picks up.

Desdinova is, like the rider and other candidates she comes in with,
barefoot and leaving damp footprints behind her. She is hand in hand with
Naara, giving the timid girl's hand a reassuring squeeze as they enter the
even more crowded than usual caverns. "You'll be ok." She says quietly,
though it is conceivable she is talking as much to herself as Naara.
"Juice? Would that help, Naara?" Not waiting for an answer, she moves to
get them both cups of the cool drink.

Celane joins that knot of people gathering around Beli, setting down the
platter of pastries on an easily-accessible table and smiling warmly at all
those she recognizes-- and everyone else, too, really. "Fourteen children?"
Celane asks, overhearing snatches of conversation. "At least you could
start lining up foster parents ahead of time?"

"Nay bloody likely," Kassima assures W'adru at her drollest but with a
quick grin to take any sting from it. "Any children I bear will have pale
green eyes and tabledance *divinely*. I've declared it so. You could start
picking out names," she asides to Neiravi, while her eyes linger on that
platter of ribs that's calling to her... but it wouldn't do to meet the
future with barbeque sauce on her chin. "In advance, if'n you
knew--fourteen's a lot of names t'need. And all those cradles! Those
clothes! In his case, those women shrieking for his blood!"

Kaveshun pauses again mid-slurp to look around her. "What in the shells..."
He must have missed the memo, or just turned a deaf ear to all the gossip.
"Anythin' I should be fearin' 'bout?" His eyes rove back towards Beli and
her assortment of... stuff. He drags his bowl closer to himself for
protection, hovering just over it and slurping up the stuff faster, just in
case.

W'adru grins broadly at Kassima, but proceeds with his plan to sip at his
glass of wine. It has been awhile since he wasn't in the caverns just
grabbing a roll or two to toss in his pocket before heading out on sweeps
or some such, and he intends to enjoy it!

Coming into the caverns with Riike in one arm and Desdinova holding her
other hand, Naara swallows thickly, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of
people packed in here. Left alone while Des gets juice, she shifts from
foot to foot. This poor girl is still dripping, her clothes only damp thank
goodness, but smelling quite a lot like dragon's breath. Literally.

Neiravi steals a quick look at W'adru, probably the type of look a
Candidate shouldn't steal, and murmurs thoughtfully "Wallavi...?" But it's
merely idle speculation, and that only for a moment. The cheesy noodles are
more important now, and finding a seat near Beli. There are a couple other
seats near hers as well, and she beckons to Naara and Desdinova. Those who
smell of dragon breath should stick together.

Beli's mouth twists. "You know," she says, and her voice is normal enough
despite all the show, "I'm not sure I shouldn't check that one. I'd thought
it was eleven, at first, and it may have changed again." She glances
W'adru's way, "I don't think I've read yours since before Nergath, have I?"
Kaveshun gets a passing, wide smile, which might actually come off a little
bit nerve-wracking, depending on his mood, and then she turns back to
Celane, with a smile for the other fellow candidates nearby, as well. "What
have you there?" she asks, nodding towards the plate.

R'din crosses his arms on his bare chest, leaning forward as Beli drops her
stuff, peering closely at the things. "Teapots and the like. Hmm..." A grin
is given to Neiravi and the other Candidates that follow in his steps. For
now, the rider appears to be ignoring everything else.

Tannusen ambles out from the inner caverns.

W'adru chuckles again, this time his eyes aimed towards the talented Beli.
He sips the wine in his glass, its nearly empty now. "Sure was. Then again,
not as if I've had much free time to have you follow up on that." he sets
the glass down and crosses his muscled arms across his broad chest,
watching with interest.

Celane nudges the plate slightly towards Beli. "Sweets!" she declares
proudly. "They're flaky pastries, with a sweet nut paste on the inside. Try
one, I think you'll like it." Glancing around, she adds, "And everyone else
is welcome to them, too, of course." She remains perching on the edge of a
table, turning down the rapidly-filling 'real' seats for the privilege of a
slightly better view.

Desdinova returns to Naara quickly, offering out her arm since her hand has
a cup of juice in it. Once the girl has taken it, se follows after Neiravi
and joins with where she is sitting. "Thank you." She says to Neiravi, with
a slight wince. "It is incredibly busy in here." Once Naara is settled, the
juice is given to her. "You gonna get her to tell your future, Naara?" She
asks, with light teasing.

Kassima slants Neiravi a look that tries to be warning and fails. She's all
too clearly laughing inside. "You can wait t'be conceiving his fourteen
love children until *after* Candidacy. There's nut pastry? Baklava?" She
and her noodles and wine find their way to one of the seats nearish
Beli--well, it's nearish after she's dragged it with her foot to the outer
ring of people around the Candidate. She sets her plates down to hold her
place while she snags a pastry. "I don't remember the locket from last
time," she comments to no one in particular. "I hope someone gets a reading
with that, I'd like t'know how it works."

Beli, suddenly serious, nods to R'din. "Oh yes. Tea leaves are proving
popular, and therefore most enlightening." She pours a cup, and offers it,
with a mismatched saucer, to Celane. "Would you like, Ce? Or do you prefer
cards? Those look wonderful." As if reminded, she places the cup down and
moves to handle the two small boxes. One reveals a set of colorful
Igen-themed dragonpoker cards that look quite new. To W'adru, she says, as
if it were terribly obvious, "Well, then," and pats the table in
invitation. She hears Kassima and replies with enthusiasm - perhaps it's
new as well - "It's quite good, but limited to yes or no answers. You can
try it, if you like, Kassima."

Kaveshun definitely looks a whole lot more uncomfortable after getting
Beli's smile. He shifts in his seat, grabs his bowl more protectively, and
pretends to hide his face in it. Though his amber eyes do peek over every
so often. "Well, shards," he mutters as everyone seems to be getting into
it. He'll just stay in his spot, lifting the bowl to his lips now to slurp
down the rest of his meal before wiping his mouth with the back of his hands.

Seated now, with the comfort of Riike's warm weight settled in her lap,
Naara seems avidly trying to melt back into her chair--juice, lizard and
all. "I--I--I..." Swallowing thickly. Again. "In f-front of uhm...of all
these people...?" Her voice is barely a squeak. "I..." Oh but now Beli's
unloading her wares and doesn't some of that look /interesting/?
"Well...uhm. /M-maybe/."

Neiravi is curious about the dragonpoker cards in those two wooden cases.
But she will happily let her fortune be told via cards, tea leaves, locket,
or interpretive dance, whatever Beli deems appropriate. "No problem, Des,"
she answers. "Skulking around the edges of a crowd is no fun." She leans
around to smile reassuringly at Naara. "You could just ask the locket a
yes-or-no question. That wouldn't take long."

Celane looks intrigued at the immediate sight of the Igenite cards. "Cards,
please!" she exclaims eagerly. As for the pastries, "Not real baklava," she
calls towards Kassima, "I didn't follow any recipe. But I suppose it's
similar." That explained, she turns back towards watching Beli, peering
curiously at all of those fortune-telling accouterments.

W'adru lets out a soft sigh and drains his glass. Getting to his feet he
makes a wide path, stopping to drop off his glass of wine and exchange for
some Klah before making his way towards the table, headed for the general
area Beli indicated. "I have to agree with Kassima. I have to see what you
come up with for me." He moves into the throng gathering around which, to
his somewhat surprise, parts as he approaches. Some of the looks he gets
aren't very flattering, all things considered. Others, well...

R'din glances around at all of the people converging at Beli's table,
deciding to lean even further closer to Beli, asking her what he believes
to be a cruical question. "Candidate... Or for tonight, Fortune-Teller. How
are you going to choose who goes first and who goes next?"

Aconite swoops into the room from the inner caverns.

"You." Desdinova says to Naara. "And yes. In front of everyone. it look
fun! You know you want to do it." She grins brightly at her friend and
reaches over to ruffle her hair again. "And just think how proud of
yourself you will be afterwards, right?" She looks over towards Beli,
"Beli! Can Naara have a turn tonight?"

Kassima brightens to see the cards appear, and with a pastry in hand, a
chair secured, noodles soon in her seated lap and a glass of Red to sip,
she's the picture of a pleased woman. She muses, "I don't know if'n I have
any aye-or-nay questions needing answers. Unless 'tis 'has Maderas been
burying Irilly's hair ribbons in the dungheap,' 'twould save me a stealthy
night watch on the dung. There's something t'be said for that." She bites
into her pastry. "--'Tis good, Celane! You should get your fortune told
too." That to Kaveshun; staying in the back and slurping hasn't saved him.
"You'll never know if'n you're due t'be squished by an ovine, else."

Tannusen slips into the Living Cavern, hands and face freshly-scrubbed
(stable work, you know), and gives a wave to anyone looking. "Do I dare ask
what's going on?" he asks of the room at large, and finds himself a chair
somewhere near enough to the chaos.

Well... It /shouldn't/ take long. But with the amount of time it sometimes
takes Naara to form coherent words in public, the yes or no is probably not
the best of plans. "Well..." And just as she begins to /think/ about the
/possibility/ of /maybe/ giving it a try, Desdinova takes matters into her
own hands and Naara pales, gripping her cup of untouched juice so tight her
knuckles turn pale.

Beli hands Celane the Igen deck - although appears to eye it very sternly
for a moment before doing so - and then instructs, pleasantly, for her
friend: "Cut the deck in three parts with your dominant hand, please, and
then tap one of them. If you have a specific question or idea in mind, do
concentrate on it." That settled, she turns to W'adru and can't help
smiling, "Don't act so reluctant, I know you enjoy it." Does she know, or
does she *know*? To R'din, a simple: "Oh, we always proceed in the order
meant to be." Such clarification. To Desdinova and Naara, "Certainly!"

Celane eagerly takes the deck from Beli, doing just as she's told, breaking
the cards into three smaller stacks and tapping the one in the middle.
Then, she closes her eyes in concentration, squinting them tightly enough
for her face to look comical, nose wrinkling, lips pursing. "Okay," she
stage-whispers. "I'm concentrating!"

Neiravi calls cheerfully over to Tannusen (how did she hear him over the
commotion? Only Faranth knows), "No dissecting eggs tonight, just
fortune-telling!" She's tempted to pet Naara, but settles for gently
tweaking a loose strand of hair. "There's no one here will laugh or tease
you. And if they do, you can have Riike attack them, or feed them to
Daianth later. Don't worry so--it's meant to be fun." She cranes her neck
eagerly as Celane cuts the cards.

IGEN-> Naara is now a weyrpet, Ravi? :)

IGEN-> Neiravi says, "Weyrpet, all-around little sister, take your pick. :-)"

IGEN-> Kassima says, "I am picturing Chia Pet here, and that is
unfortunate. ;)"

IGEN-> Tannusen lols.

Desdinova's smile to Beli is dazzling, and that is soon turned on Naara.
"See? It's easy! If Ce can do it, you can do it, right?" She motions at the
kitchen girl getting her fortune told. Not, of course, that she's given
Naara much choice. "It'll be /fun/. Relax." She grins past her to Neiravi,
"Yeah, Daianth will look out for us all."

IGEN-> Desdinova says, "Chia Candidate!"

R'din raises an eyebrow at Beli's answer, "Hrm." Then his eyes turn onto
Celane, watching her in amusement, chuckling at her concentration,
"Careful, we don't want your head to explode!" He tells the Candidate,
glancing at the mention of Daianth, grinning. "Daianth'll certainly help
you out should you want it, Naara." He informs the shy girl.

Kaveshun can hear the conversation around him better, now that the slurping
wasn't muffling that out. And he catches sight of Kassima, blinking to her
with wide eyes. "Fortune telling? What's that got ta do with 'nything?" He
huffs and crosses his arms, but his curiosity keeping his eyes moving back
towards the group of people. "Only thing I gotta know 'bout my future is
whether Ma will drag her lazy ars-- er, bum all this way. An' I can figure
that out when I hear her a-roarin' in the bowl." He lifts his chin,
glancing at the deck of cards now. "Sounds like a load of girly silliness,
'nyways."

Beli takes the stack in the middle from Celane, and begins to turn over the
cards in a specific pattern: four up, three across the second from Celane's
place. She glances over toward Neiravi, as if something's drawn her
attention, and abruptly holds out a cup and saucer, offering: "Tea?"
Desdinova's comment to Naara also earns a quiet regard. She seems pleasant
enough, really.

W'adru finally makes it to a chair, whose occupant seems happy enough to
give it up, perhaps regretting setting so close. W'adru settles his frame
into the chair and his mug to the table top. "Beli is nothing to be afraid
of." he slouches a little, arms crossing across his chest again. "Just
don't lean too far over the table."

Neiravi blinks at the offer of tea from nowhere, but takes it from Beli
with a smile and a nod. "Thank you. And if we need to borrow Daianth to eat
anyone, R'din, we'll certainly let you know ahead of time." Loaning dragons
out involves a lot of hidework. She adroitly snatches one of Celane's
little nut-filled pastries and dunks it in the tea, sipping and nibbling as
she watches. "If you come have your fortune told, Kav, it won't just be
girly anymore," she teases.

Beli studies Neiravi for a moment, and then seems to nod slightly. "If
you've a particular something in mind, make sure you think of it, and swirl
your cup counterclockwise when just the dregs are left. Three times." She
smiles, and then turns to Wall. "You be quiet," she says, as stern as she
can manage, which is not very stern at all given she's wearing a turban,
"and give me your hand."

Tannusen's eyebrows raise and he mouths an "Oh," Neiravi's way, but doesn't
try to continue the conversation over all the noise until he's grabbed his
chair and drug it over closer. Once he is, he comments wryly to Kaveshun,
"Well, I realize that /I'm/ rather girly," the blond comments cheerfully
enough, "but W'adru over there is certainly not very."

"Suit yourself," Kassima replies with an amiable enough shrug. "But you
might want t'stop dismissing things as 'girly' so much. 'Tis rather
limiting, and," wryly, "nay suggesting the most respect for women. W'adru's
nay the most girly man I've ever seen." A nod indicates the tall
bronzerider, someday father of fourteen children! "This is all in fun--just
t'see what she'll tell you, tell the others, and sometimes it comes true."

"B-but...he uh, he doesn't /like/ the t-taste of p-p-people..." Naara's
soft protest might not be heard over the din, but it's made nonethe less.
Beli's abrupt attention on Neiravi startles her, so much so that she jumps
and spills some of her juice over her top and even over bits of blue
firelizard hide. This indignity has Riike trilling a question before
twisting his head around to lap at the juice sticking up his hide.

W'adru sighs. The Bronzerider places both hands on the table and eyes them,
left and then right. "Either hand you favor?" he asks. If nothing else,
he's setting a good example in cooperation. He turns his eyes to the others
gathered around, taking in what's going on. A curious furrow of the brow at
the cards spread on the table.

"What's fortune telling got to do with gender?" Desdinova wonders. "That's
silly." She grins at Narra again. "Right, so don't make him have to eat
anyone. But I bet he would, for you. I know I would." The spilled juice has
her rolling her eyes, and she's quick to dart out a hand to secure the cup
from her. "Careful!"

Kaveshun is safe in the caverns away from all the dragons, and he has no
problem sitting back and crossing his arms, snorting to the others. "Sure
it ain't... And I do non-girly things, too. Plenty ta do." He'd list a few
things if he was that creative, but instead just bobs his head ferociously
in defense towards Kassima. "Well... well, he's jus' dragged in by all the
wimmin being... wimmin." But something actually catches his attention, and
he uncrosses his arms and leans forward, brows raised. "Comes true?"
Another wary look towards the fortune-telling candidate. "How's that work?"

Neiravi hides most of her wide smile with her mug, indicating agreement
with a small nod and a swallow of the quite-hot drink. Don't mind her
coughs. "That's true," she agrees with Naara, "but the other person doesn't
have to know that. And even though *I* know that, his teeth are still kind
of scary. You were brave, to get right in there like you did." Her honesty
is clear. She takes one last drink, then lifts the mug above her head and
swirls it slowly counterclockwise three times before leaning forward to
offer it back to Beli.

Abruptly, Beli slaps her hand down on one of the face-up Igen cards,
"Stopit," she mutters. To the card. "Stay there." It is probably needless
to note that it has not moved whatosever, it being inanimate. Then, "Still
breaking these in. Aren't they wonderful, though?" Her finger grazes the
edge of one, as if petting it. "Stubborn, but lovely. Oh, Celane, something
like your thoughts, I see. Or others' thoughts about you. Don't let the
rumors bother you, you know. It's all frills." She glances down, tapping a
Crafts card marked with farviewers in lieu of hammers. She smiles, "Be
careful of your ankles, won't you? And your heart, but that's true for
everyone." She pauses. "How many do you want? Not fourteen, I see." To
W'adru, "Your dominant hand, please," and she's reaching for his right, if
he'll give it. Multitasking, she accepts the cup from Neiravi, and peers
into it.

W'adru dutifully offers that right hand, the left crossing over the right
arm to retrieve the klah mug. Not daring to do much more than take a slow
sip and return the mug. He watches Beli and the tea cup.

Kassima's tone shades drier. "I repeat what I said about nay being
respectful of women. What if'n women do like fortune-telling? What exactly
about that would make it bad?" She washes down a second bite from her nut
pastry before answering the questions, but answer she does--sort of: "I
don't know. Sometimes 'tis mayhaps she can tell what's likely. Like your
Mum: if'n she comes to the Weyr, you know she's going t'be bellowing,
that's a prediction. But how Beli knew I'd have positive changes coming in
m'life, I haven't the faintest--and I did nay very long after that."

Celane snaps her eyes wide open at the sound of Beli's voice. "Frills? Like
on dresses?" she asks, turning her head at a tilt and looking at the
fortune-teller with a curious expression. "My ankles. Hm. Two!-- children.
Not ankles." She glances from her fellow candidate down to the card and
back again, as if trying very hard to see where all of this is hidden in
those farviewers. But no mater. She'll take her word for it. "Thanks,
Beli!" is accompanied with a wide grin, as she sits back once more to
listen in to what others' lives have in store.

R'din sits there, impressed by Beli's multifortunetelling, eyes shifting
from Celane to Neiravi to W'adru.

At first, Beli frowns at Neiravi's teacup. "I can't say anything about --
oh." She tilts the cup, and something changes. "Oh." She seems confused.
"There's something here, but it's terribly unclear." Like Beli should talk.
"I think - oh, it's do with dragons, it must be." She looks at Neiravi,
"I'm afraid I can't see anything to do with dragons." She keeps looking, "I
quite like purple too. I have a pair of overalls - oh." Again. "A flag,
here, that's good tidings. A visit from a stranger, or two. And a diamond,
that's for matters of the heart." She pauses, and smiles about something.
"My, you've a lot of siblings, haven't you. Although...huh." Next, she
turns to Wall, after a grin at Celane. "Glad to. We ought to have a longer
session, sometime. I'd like to read your elbow sometime, I'm sure it's
fascinating."

"It gets nothin' done," is Kaveshun's answer about what makes fortune
telling girly. He smirks a bit to himself, though no one will probably
share in those sentiments. After all the time in the Weyr, too, he hasn't
changed his thoughts much. "I jus' know Ma. That's what she'd do. She can
say I'll get eaten by a big dragon an' I can believe it... an' it can
happen." He pushes himself out of his chair with a snort and then circles
around the crowd, actually aiming for the klah. After getting himself a
mug, he was moving closer towards the going-ons, even with his adamant
belief in its girly-ness.

Desdinova quickly gets a rag and helps Naara clean up from the juice spill,
missing much of the happenings in the process. But once the juice is
tidied, and the timid girl has gone back to her silent ways, Desdinova
turns back towards the fortune telling going on. "Hey, 'Ravi." She says,
voice just loud enough to reach the girl. "What'd I miss? You going to
Imrpress a bronze and have a hundred kids?"

W'adru's eyebrows make quick work of the climb up his forehead. "My elbow?"
The now confused Bronzerider casts his eyes down at his right elbow almost
as if he could read it himself. "What could be so interesting in my elbow?"
He turns back, realizing that the tea leaves seem to have Beli flummoxed.
The eyebrows make their way a little higher on his forehead.

Beli takes W'adru's hand, "No, not yours, Celane's. Though we could do
yours." Then she rakes her eyes over the back of his hand, flips it over to
look at the inside of his wrist, ponders for a moment, her fingers resting
there, and then - drops it. She sits back in her chair, rigid, and then
turns to say, as if it just came to her, "Neiravi, also: don't rule out the
braids. And I'd stay away from the laundry pool if you're at all able."
She's blushing as she turns back, "Sorry, Wall. So many at once, you know.
Sherri's only just taught me that, and I'm afraid I'm not getting anything
from you." Her cheeks still very pink, she looks about. "Cards, anyone else?"

"That's suggesting," Kassima points out to Kaveshun, "that you think 'tis
womanly t'be getting naught done. Tell it to our Weyrseconds and some of
the Wingleaders, nay t'mention Josilina, nay t'mention our last
Weyrlingmaster, nay t'mention...." She flicks her fingers. "The roster's
endless. Good *luck* if'n you want t'go about thinking we're less than
you." The discussion has taken her attention away from the readings, a fact
she now realizes. She asks those around, "What did she say for Neiravi?
She's going t'have diamonds, Celane's going t'have frills, and her ankles
are going t'have children. And there are braids?"

Iesia ambles out from the inner caverns.

Hector ambles out from the inner caverns.

W'adru eyes his hand a moment, as if not sure if he should pull it back or
not, the mug still held by its handle in his left hand. Slowly he draws his
hand back across the table, letting it lay in the position it was in when
she dropped it. Slowly he sips at the klah, turning his attention to those
around him, looking for any who might want his seat. One of the cavern
workers wrings her hands nervously. W'adru departs his chair and offers it
to her. "Here, Narise. You've been wondering what she'd say for you." The
girl shakes her head a little, but others gathered around her egg her on
and she slips into the chair, still wringing her hands nervously. Wall
pauses a moment to get his mug and cast one last glance at Beli before
nodding. "...on the way Nergath..." he mumbles as he turns and sideways
walks through the crowd, with lots of polite excuse mes.

Celane tries very hard to twist her elbow into a position where she can see
it. "Hmm. I wouldn't mind knowing what it says." Finally giving up on this
particular aerobics, she notices that her plate of pastries is extremely
depleted. "I shall refresh the refreshments!" She declares, taking the
plate and darting back into the kitchen.

Hector follows Iesia into the living cavern, looking like he is annoying
her, probably as usual. He continues his conversation with her, even if she
might not care about what he is saying. "I don't think you should worry
about it. You'd make a great Healer and an equally great dragonrider. Even
if the dragon who picks you will probably be the crabbiest creature ever.
I'm sure he'll get along well with you." Once again, in Hector's mind, all
dragons are male. It's easier that way.

Beli sets her sights on Naara, and holds out the locket - it looks ancient,
mottled with age, but it's beautiful. The engravings on the face are tiny
and delicate, detailed as if the canvas were ten times larger. The long
chain, unlike the oval locket, looks to have been recently polished. "You
can get a feel for it before you ask anything. Also," she notes, "you don't
have to ask out loud, with this." She looks at Wall, again, and then
Nerise, and says immediately, dismissive, "Oh, it's nothing like that. If
he were going to die, I'd tell him so. He'd want his affairs in order,
wouldn't he." To W'adru, "Just not seeing anything. My - " but she stops,
and says, "Sometimes I get interference, see?"

Kaveshun, despite his annoyance, has his cheeks turning a bit red. Weyrs.
"Well, shells, the dragons null that, I s'pose. Y'all have male dragons,
too. Ain't the same out /there/, as ya said... and nah, ain't sayin' 'm
less than ya, did I?" He takes a heated gulp of his drink, turning back
towards the fortune-telling for a brief moment, his attention straying.
"Don't see where ya came up with that, 'less all the men here've said the
same. Y'all cook pretty well an' I can't do a think 'bout that." He finds a
seat in the midst of the crowd to settle back down in. "Jus' do a lot of
things that only works the mouths, too."

Celane goes home.

Neiravi is, to put it mildly, confused. "You can't say anything about
dragons? But--all right." Perhaps there are some things Candidates are not
meant to know. Her eyes widen at the mention of purple, and she laughs a
small, startled laugh. "I--yes, it's a lovely color. Visitors? And the
heart? But I don't have any sibs at all..." Forget confused, she's plain
flummoxed. "Des, it seems I'm going to fall into the laundry pool, meet my
unknown siblings, and there's a flag. And purple. Nothing about a bronze
dragon." Maybe that'll come after the purple.

A sigh. "I am not *worried*," Iesia tells Hector carefully, all of a sudden
very aware of the large crowd. "It is not worry, nor fear. I know what my
life is about. I will be a Healer-" but she stops there as they near the
group, and goes neutrally silent. Peer. "What is going on?" she finally
asks, casting a wary look towards Beli and her crowd.

Tannusen chuckles, amused in his lurking in the crowd way. "Kaveshun," he
comments cheerfully, loud enough to carry, "please remind me to introduce
you to my sister. From behind something solid."

Alas, for poor Beli, or perhaps poor W'adru, duty's call has already pulled
his mind away. As he moves towards the exit to the bowl, a wingmate joins
him. The two exchange a quick and hushed conversation as W'adru slides his
riding jacket on. Together the two men head out to deal with whatever
emergency has called to their attention.

W'adru walks out to the Bowl.

"Well, at least your future isn't as murky as it was when e got here."
Desdinova says helpfully do Neiravi, laughing. "So it won't be a suprise
when it happens. And didn't she say something about braids? Maybe you will
fall into a pool of water while they are dying clothing purple, and your
pretty hair will be all purple for the hatching?" She grins teasingly at
her, "Maybe a sib pushes you? Seems like something mine would do." A
familiar, cranky voice reaches her ear and she turns, waving to Iesia. "Ie!
Belie's telling us our destinies! Come play!"

Beli is blushing, still, this time when she looks away again. As if being
unable to read Wall's hand is quite the humiliation. Perhaps. This time she
looks past Naara to Desdinova. Again, the Sight calls her. Or something. To
Desdinova, "Would you like to try it? Or," and she nods across the table.
Giant old book, lumpy bag of something, mysterious wooden case, Igen
dragonpoker cards, teapot, and all. To Neiravi, "Of course you have
siblings," as if the other candidate is teasing her. "What was that about a
bronze dragon?" For a moment, she looks down, eyeing her hand on the cards,
shuffling them together, but then she's brightly back to attention.

Hector looks around, only now realizing the cavern definitely seems more
crowded than it usual is at any other time besides mealtime. "Well, good,"
he says to Iesia. "You shouldn't be worried or afraid. Of any of us, you
probably have the best backup plan. You know exactly what will happen if
you don't Impress. Not that I think you won't." It's easy for Hector to be
certain when he doesn't know that much about dragons. Looking around the
room, he spots a lot of other candidates, and he waves around to everyone.
Desdinova looks like a likely target to tell him what's going on so he
makes his way over to her. "Hey. Anything interesting going on?"

Kassima's smile is faint. "I ride a female dragon. So does Josilina. 'Tis
what you're saying--" Her voice wasn't harsh anyway, but she modulates it.
"Mayhaps 'tisn't what you meant. Think on it--well, first of all, women
can't all cook and there are plenty of male Bakers. But you're suggesting
'tis a female thing t'uselessly waste your time, and we're only ever
different because of our *dragons*? Bright Faranth, lad, that's insulting
as seven shards. And if'n you think *men* can't jaw uselessly... two hours.
Two hours, I remember a pair of Wingmates once debating one woman's behind.
I have *never* wasted two hours talking about someone's butt." She's
downright fervent about that, and who wouldn't be? Under her breath she
mutters, "If'n Beli predicts any such conversations in m'future now, I'm
going t'get very drunk. Very. Very. --Beli, Neiravi can't Impress a bronze!
Lyss would never stop being smug! Never!"

Chaton ambles out from the inner caverns.

Chaton pokes in tardily, looking very harried and bedraggled. He inches in
towards the back of the crowd, trying not to be noticed.

Kaveshun winces at Tannusen's comment and his free hand reflectively goes
up to his head. "I've had 'nough with sisters. S'alright, I don' need 'ny
more." He rubs his hand through his red locks, as if comforting a sore
spot. His mug is lowered again as he turns towards Kassima, jaw dropping as
if to snap off a retort right away but it shuts. See, he's learning!
Instead, his brows furrow in concentration before he shrugs. "Sure is.
Dragons make loads of difference. Back on the farms, my sisters prattle
uselessly for hours, too." The story does get a shudder. "Well, /some/ men
are jus' as bad." Count him out of that category. He slumps in his seat.

Neiravi shrugs, settling back with a second cup of tea, this one
non-prophetic. "I'll take any clarity I can get, right now. But she's
really mistaken, I don't have any brothers or sisters at all." She muses
for a minute. "Maybe there's a purple egg on the Sands that'll hatch a
bronze dragon, and I'll be standing near it? I couldn't possibly Impress
it, not even to please Lysseth." She'll wink at Kassima, though. "Or maybe
someone in purple will push me into the laundry..." Oh, she's going to be
puzzling this out for *days*.

R'din leans back into his chair again, slouching a bit as he watches the
fortunes being told, grinning at Neiravi's. A little smirk is aimed at
Kaveshun, "Seems people don't like being belittled, either." But otherwise,
he simply stays quiet, tilting his head backwards to peer at Iesia's voice
upside-down.

Desdinova grins at Hector brightly, and motions him to a seat near her.
"Beli's just offering to tell me my fortune." She explains to him,
ecitement in her voice. She turns back to the woman in question, and
reaches out to take the necklace that Naara had decided not to accept. "So
what do I do, just hold this and... Think about my life, or something? Or
romance, or whatever? Do I tell you what I am thinking, or do you just, I
guess, /know/?" She grins at Neiravi, "I think she just knows you like
purple. That makes the rest easy."

"You sure?" Tannusen asks politely of Kaveshun, "She's at the weyr right
now, just itching to make /someone/ run laps around the lake. It wouldn't
be any bother for me to direct her your way." Beam!

Kassima grins at Neiravi. "Bless you. There's such a thing as Lyss being
too pleased." After a pause to gulp wine, "What's been said about purple?
That's your sisters," with her attention back on Kaveshun, "and I can
believe it, but what about Crafter women, then? Ask Iesia over there.
'Tisn't any more fair or accurate t'be judging all women by your sisters
than if'n I judged all men by m'butt-talking Wingmates. That's m'point. His
sister's a guard," with a nod to Tannusen, "she'd probably do it, too."

"Can we change the subject," growls Iesia, looking more and more irritable
by the second. Desdinova's voice is heard, and Iesia furrows her eyebrows,
confused. "What?" she asks, more of a snap than a question. "Who's
telling... how can you be told your /destiny?/" Play? Iesia? Yeah right.
She catches sight of the up-side down R'din, rolls her eyes, and wanders
over to the little group with a little 'come along' wave of her hand
towards Hector. "You doing this?" she wants to know of R'din, peering at
Beli suspiciously. "Have you, Des?"

Beli looks a little worried, suddenly. Perhaps it's stress. To Kassima, she
warms: "If Neiravi is to do such a thing as Impress a bronze, I certainly
couldn't tell you about it. Be quite surprising, wouldn't it?" Curious:
"Smug?" And, for Neiravi, "I'm not mistaken. There is a mystery then, hm?
If you've no siblings, but you /do/." Then, to Desdinova, "It's to be a yes
or no question. Concentrate on it, then tell me when you're ready."

Hector grins at Desdinova and moves over to join her. On his way, he grabs
at Iesia's sleeve, intending to draw her over to a seat nearby as well.
"Your fortune? Like, if you're going to be rich?" He listens to the rest of
the talk, puzzling for a moment. "No one can know the future," he insists
quite firmly. "Especially not things like if someone in purple is going to
push you into the laundry. Unless the person telling it is planning on
wearing purple and doing the shoving." He scratches his head. "What kinds
of things are you trying to find out from her?"

Neiravi smiles at Hector, and at Iesia too. "Des is getting her fortune
told by the locket, though it'll only tell her yes or no. And I, it seems,
have imaginary siblings who will give me a diamond and dunk me in the
laundry pool with a purple flag." There, that sounds vaguely possible.
"Anything we *can* find out, Hector. Though she can't really talk about
dragons, it seems."

Kaveshun shrugs his shoulders helplessly, actually turning his smirk
towards Kassima. "Don' know a thing 'bout Crafts. Or their wimmin. But my
sisters, their friends, some gossiping wherries..." He snorts, downs the
rest of the klah, and shoves it aside on the table. Tannusen and Kassima's
last comments make him pale completely though. "N-nah. S'alright, man, ya
don't need ta trouble yerself that way at all." Nothing quicker in shutting
him up than threatening him with a mean girl. He slumps even lower, quiet,
and finally turns his attention and probably his ears as well to the
fortune telling. Maybe he will pick something up that will actually catch
his attention.

Chaton wrinkles his nose at the crowd of people and inches over to Iesia.
"What on Pern is going on here? I come to get a bite after my nap and find
the place full. Care to share?" he asks, looking only a tad put-off.

"Right! I can do that!" Desdinova says to Beli. She looks around a moment,
then her gaze slides over R'din briefly before landing on Hector. She grins
brightly. "OK!" She says. "Concentrating, right. She closes her eyes a
moment, then opens them and hands the locket out to Beli. While doing so,
she gives Iesia a bright grin, "It's just fun. You remember what that is?
C'mon, you can go next. And spend the day, like Ravi there, trying to
figure it out."

"Lysseth Searched her too," Kassima clarified for Beli, "and can you
imagine how 'twould be if'n she'd Searched Pern's first female bronzerider?
She'd be on me t'go straight t'Harper Hall first, t'let 'em know all the
ballads that should be written in her honor, then t'Starcraft t'see about
getting her put in a constellation, then... Weaver, I suppose. For the
tapestries. They'd have t'hang the scene of the Search in every Hall and
Weyr. Please spare me, Neiravi, please please please, and when your bronze
comes for you turn and *run away*." This time she picks up the reference to
secret baby siblings, and she looks most intrigued, but that isn't quite so
polite to ask about as purple peril. She edges forward a little in her
chair, though. She ducks her head to hide a grin at Kaveshun's sudden
pallor, too.

R'din's eyebrow raise upwards, which is towards the floor. "No, I didn't
have anything to do with this." is his answer to Iesia, still watching her.

A sliding glance?... Iesia's hand reaches out, finds R'din's shoulder, and
leaves it there possessively. She's looking towards the "fortune teller"
however, miffed. "I have no idea," she tells Chaton truthfully, glancing at
him briefly. "Came for the same thing - a little bit of dinner before I go
back to mending... and this..." crowd "Was here. Something about lockets,
purple, and.. what?" she stops, her thoughts suddenly on a new subject
altogether. "Invisible siblings?" She sighs. "No, no," she tells R'din. "I
didn't mean did you organize it, are you... going to have her tell you your
destiny?" Definitely disdainful.

Beli mostly ignores all the mashed-up predictions that tend to result from
these endeavors. If anything, she seems cheerful about whatever she
overhears. She holds up her hands to Desdinova, "No, this one you do. Hold
the chain with your dominant hand, and let the locket dangle straight over
the palm of your other." She demonstrates. "Then close your eyes and think
about your question." She waits for Desdinova to do so, meanwhile smiling
at Kassima. "Ah. I see. Likely there /would/ be quite a few ballads,
however." Diplomatic.

Hector watches Desdinova with the locket somewhat skeptically, but he
doesn't speak out against it. "Just for fun, right. My younger cousins used
to do plenty of silly things for fun." Of course, he and his sister weren't
allowed to do much of anything just for fun, so highly organized silly
things are a little difficult for him to grasp. One of the very different
things about being in a Weyr, he tells himself. "It, um, looks like it
would be fun." The words don't come out of his mouth very easily.

Tannusen just continues to beam at Kaveshun. "Oh, all right. But /do/ tell
me if you change your mind, Alley always gets /so/ bored around here
without any strapping young guards to put through drills." And then his
attention wanders from the other candidate to the rest of them again, and
he takes a sip of the mug of klah he's somehow acquired at some point.

R'din's head lifts right side back up once Iesia's hand takes ahold of his
shoulder, peering at the Candidate. "Aye. I don't see any harm in it. It's
up to the person getting it to believe it or not. To me, it's just
curiousity. And fun." He gives her a smile before turning his attention
back to Desdinova and Beli.

Chaton wrinkles his nose. "There are a rediculously large amount of people
here... oh. Hey R'din." he isn' important, though. The peoples are. "So,
um. What's with the locket? And the girl?" he asks, standing on tip-toe to
see.

Kassima calls over to Hector, "Mayhaps she can tell you whether you'll have
eleven children like W'adru!" That'll warm him up to the prospect, sure.

"Uh huh," Kaveshun replies to Tannusen, and then lower he mumbles, "'m sure
she'd find someone else ta torture." Though with all the excitment of
forture-telling, it might or might not have been heard. He makes a mental
note at the name, though. He flicks his amber eyes from Beli towards Iesia
as her tone of voice catches his attention. He presses his lips tightly,
staying quiet for the moment.

There is a moment of perplexed silence from Desdinova as she tries to
understand what Beli means, but she's a bright girl and she figures it out.
She holds her left hand out flat, and dangles the pendant over it with her
right hand, watching it curiously to see what mystical reaction there will
be. "It's not /serious/." Des says distractedly to Iesia, voice full of
concentration. "It's just fun. It's not like this is going to tell me who
my future weyrmate might be, y'know?"

"Not serious," repeats Iesia. "I just don't see the point." But she's just
in a mood. She remains standing where she is, despite vacated chairs in the
vicinity. "Seems silly to me." Of course it's silly! "Apparently it answers
questions," she tells Chaton of the locket. Despite her irritation, Iesia
can't help but watch Desdinova and Beli, lips pursed.

Beli suddenly has an idea. She gathers her Igen dragonpoker deck together,
looks at it admiringly, and then replaces it in its box. She then opens the
other box, revealing a different set of dragonpoker cards, this one much
older and much used, battered and curling at the corners. She glances
around the table, eyeing each face: R'din, Kassima, Tannusen, even
Kaveshun, Iesia, Chaton, and Hector. She then cuts the deck in three piles.
"Pick a card," she says, to...everyone. Then she turns her attention to
Desdinova. "It might," she replies calmly. "Depending on your question.
Remember, yes or no. Now concentrate and close your eyes." She places her
own right hand beneath Desdinova's left, the one with the palm upturned.
"Ask the question in your head. Or out loud. Really concentrate."

Iesia's tone has R'din looking back up at the Candidate again, smiling.
"Ah, Ie Sia... Come, sit, please. You can make fun of my fortune, if you
like." Gently, Iesia's hand is grasped by his own, pulling her down into
the empty chair on the other side of him. Her hand isn't released, however,
intending to keep it. At Beli's words, however, R'din reaches forward and
pulls a card from the second pile. "So I think of a yes or no question? Do
I show my card to anyone?"

Hector chokes at Kassima's suggestion, and he isn't even drinking anything.
"What? There's no way I could have eleven children. I mean, I don't even
have betrothed or anything!" Not that that matters with riders, of course.
When Beli suggests he take a card, however, he hesitates. He isn't sure if
he likes the idea of someone he doesn't really know prying into his future
if anything she says happens to be true, and then if it isn't true, then
what's the point?

Tannusen, ever game for this sort of thing, reaches out to pick one from
the left-most stack with his free hand.

Chaton wrinkles his nose at the tattered looking cards. "This can't be
serious." he mumbles under his breath, apparently in a 'mood' as well. He
fingers through one of the piles and picks a good, random one. He stares at
it, his nose still wrinkled, as if he were holding a bloody wherry-bit.
"Uh... and what are we supposed to do with them?"

"Someone pick one for me!" Des says eagerly, since clearly her hands are
occupied. But she follows Beli's instructions to the letter, closing her
eyes and almost silently asking her question. There is nothing audible in
her words, but her lips move in a silent litany of the question she is
asking the locket and the girl.

Caught with a forkful of noodles in her mouth, Kassi grips the tines with
her teeth and frees her hand to reach obligingly forward, even while she's
asking, "Mrmphl?" To Hector: "Mlmphrm fmphmfr mllm!" She doesn't look at
the face of what she's chosen, but keeps it turned down. She hastily
swallows the food. "You're young! You *never know*," she tells Hector, or
warns him, or threatens him, depending on interpretation. "Best t'find out
now. You, too, Chaton."

Beli replies to R'din, noting the pile he chose from, and others, "Show
your card to me, and anyone else you like. You can think of a question if
you want, but you won't necessarily get a yes or no. Or just see what comes
of it." She notes Tannusen's choice, too, and Chaton's, and waits to see
the cards.

Reluctant, Iesia moves forward and into a chair. She scoots it closer,
though, so her arm isn't outstretched at some odd angle. She, of course,
does not pick a card. "No." pause. "Thanks." Manners. There's a sigh, and
Iesia leans forward. "For /Des/," she says plainly, pulling a card at random.

Kaveshun would have been gone if he wasn't the least bit curious in the
fortune-telling. He was even hanging around at the same table and has yet
to be scared off. But when the cards are presented, he eyes it warily like
he did the girl before. "Silly future-telling business..." But he actually
reaches a hand out, hovers it over the ratty-looking cards, and picks one
out, flicking it over in front of him and then smirking. "So, does it say
'm gonna be eaten?" He snorts down at his upturned card.

Beli turns her attention back to the locket, and closes her eyes as well,
her hand still beneath Desdinova's, but not touching the one holding the
locket. After a moment, the locket very slightly starts to swing across the
length of their palms, fingers to wrist, wrist to fingers. Beli opens her
eyes and says, "Positive. Look, Desdinova. That's a yes." She murmurs, "So
many questions of the heart today."

Tannusen flips his between nimble fingers, careful not to mess up the edges
of Beli's card, and then holds it up between two fingertips for the
fortuneteller to see. "Hopefully something orange?" he muses out loud,
"There's nothing at all wrong with orange."

Chaton rolls his eyes and flashes the card around. "I dunno about all this.
I mean... how can someone know what you're going to do before you do it?
You can make decisions, so how do they know what decision you're going to
make?" he asks, of nobody in particular. Mostly he's just ranting to
himself. So, he thinks of a question as well.

Chaton 's card is the 3 of Weyrs

R'din nods, turning his card face-up, as it had been kept face-down before,
peering at it before lifting the card up to show everyone. The one he's
chosen happens to be Four of the Craft. The rider then drops his hand,
simply holding the card on the tabletop, looking at Beli. "Let them fall
and see what may be."

Tannu flicks the card in his fingertips back around to glance at it
himself, belatedly, before turning it back around again. "Of course, it's
Holds," he adds, "so that can't be good. Right?"

Kassima flips her card over and holds it up, face turned outward: the six
of Weyrs. She tries to see what other people are holding, but her
attention's drawn to the moving locket. "I wish I did have an aye-or-nay
question," she murmurs. "'Tis doing that on its own? The future's nay all
ours t'be deciding, Chaton. Look at Wall's spawn. Mayhaps 'tis in flights
he sires 'em, mayhaps nay, but he can't decide a woman randomly conceives.
I've *tried* the thing where you point at someone and command 'em t'be
pregnant, it doesn't work."

Hector's attention is drawn back to Kassima, and he gives her a puzzled
look for a moment, listening to her advice given through a mouthful of
food. When she gets the actual words out, Hector is shocked. "I don't think
my life is long enough to have eleven children! How many babies do you
expect me to have at one time?" Of course, Hector is a twin, and twins
often run in familes. So maybe it wouldn't be too far-fetched to imagine he
would have a couple babies at once. With a woman's help, of course.
"Somehow I think it might be something better left unknown. If the cards
could tell me what I should do with my life after the Hatching, that might
actually be useful."

A crimson flush creeps up Desdinova's neck at Beli's pronouncement, and she
moves her left hand away so she can drop the pendant in the woman's hand
under hers. "Thank you." She says, a touch of tension in the words as she
glances again at the people sitting near her, Iesia, R'din, and Hector.
Iesia especially as she turns up a card in Des' honor, eliciting a bright
smile from her. "Thank you Iesia!"

Iesia's erm, /Des/'s card gets flashed around. "Weyr," she says with a
shrug. She doesn't seem to care that much about the little card between her
fingers, though she's just as reluctant to let it go. "Des," she asks all
too innocently, "What did you ask it?" It? Following the rest of their
lead, Iesia leans forward and slides the card face-up back towards Beli.
Her obligation to her friend fulfilled, she leans back and tightens her
hold on R'din's hand.

Kaveshun pokes his card around the table, eyeing up the others as well. His
was the a Holds of five card, to be exact, though he barely thought much of
it. "S'good I didn't get a Weyr one, huh?" No mild-disappointment in that
phrase, nope. He just waits for his turn.

Of course the subject of fathering multitudes brings Kassi's attention back
Hector's way. "You're male," she reasons, "you could easily have eleven
children in the same Turn, if'n 'twere very, very busy. A'course, if'n you
don't Impress, and you marry, you're limited t'mayhaps one every Turn or
two... and if'n 'twere your wife, I'd kill you after five Turns of this...
you may just have a point."

"Me?" Desdinova's tone is the height of innocence, though she can't help
glancing at one of the other candidates for a brief moment before looking
back to Iesia. Her tone takes on a carefree, teasing quality to it. "I
asked if you were destined to be the one true love of my life, of course.
And as you hear, you are." She glances to R'din, "So sorry, but I'll have
to take her back, it seems." The comment by Kassima tickles her ear and she
glances over at her. "I think after five turns of that, he'd kill himself.
Who'd want three-score children? I don't even think I want /one/. Child,
not score."

Beli turns to the bevy of cards facing her, addressing one by one by first
eyeing the person, than their card, and then considering their face again.
She's very serious about it, as if steeling herself. First up, Chaton:
"Hmm. A lost family member, isn't it? You've done fine without, and will
do. And you've feelings for someone you're not .." but she stops there,
shakes her head, "Nevermind, that's not right. Beware a small, dark-haired
woman, by the way." R'din: "Ah, a four. Even. You oughtn't entertain those
desires, you know. A healer'd be good for you. And white isn't terribly
flattering, but then, you're not about to listen to anyone on that score,
are you." Tannu: "Holds are very good cards. Your studies are going well,
you'll gain some extra knowledge soon. Hmm. So much confusion, with this
triangle. Watch out for all those babies, they're quite noisy. So much
screeching." Triangle? Screeching? Kassima: "Six." She smiles. "That's one
of my favorites. It's lovely in my new deck, too." She ponders this one.
"Luck, then, but we knew that already. Do take care you don't get sick,
though it may be too late now." How reassuring. "Iesia, your card is for
you, not Des, I'm afraid. Your temper may do you some good, you know. And
you oughtn't be ashamed of your favorite color, it's quite lovely.
Weyrwoman Josilina would approve." Kaveshun: "Your upbringing will serve
you well, all the sisters and such." Hector: "Faranth. You've got quite the
debacle there, haven't you. Pick the third from the left, it's most
secretive. And try not to lift anything heavy in the next sevenday." She
looks around, checking to see if she's missed anyone. Then, she picks a
card, herself.

"Screeching?" Tannusen blinks, and flicks the card back around to look at
it again, and demands of the inanimate object; "/Babies/?"

Hector looks a little pale at Kassima's suggestion. "But... eleven children
in one year, all with different women? I can't imagine how that could
possibly happen." Well, he could imagine it, but it seems improbable.
"Plus, how likely would it be that one of those women would get jealous and
come after me with a long knife? I don't think I could keep straight who
had what child, and whose birthing day was when." He listens to Beli's
fortune for the others, even snickering a little at her words for R'din.
When Bali offers him advice, however, he jumps. He didn't even take a card,
but somehow she knew something about him? "Third from the left what? The
eggs, on Hatching day? Or buckets of tubers to peel in the kitchens?" He
now sees why everyone has been puzzling about all the different options for
their fortunes. The advice isn't very clear, but it's impossible not to
start thinking about all of the different options.

Chaton wrinkles his nose even more, as if that's possible. "Whatever." he
mumbles, and squeeses through the crowd of people to the meal table. A
quick glass of water, as if he were trying to wash a foul taste from his
mouth, and he walks past Iesia. "Guesswork, right?" he says, skeptically,
though his tone suggests that something's cut a bit more close to home than
he's comfortable with. Even if he 'will do'. Some things should just be
left burried.

Kaveshun looks around the group and their card as each one is pointed out
and given their little fortune. When it comes to him, he perks up a bit,
only to have his face fall again. "That it?" He eyes his card and then
shoves it aside with a loud grunt. "What a load of sh... silliness. Ain't
told me 'nothing 'cept that I got lots of sisters. 'Course I do." Back to
the head rubbing and he sits back in his seat and crosses his arms.

Kassima's brows draw together, and for a moment she looks a mix of
not-too-pleased and rather tired--before her own future is read. It's gone
by the time Beli gets to her. "I'm glad that went t'someone who'll get use
out of it," she says of the new deck, ostensibly. "Sick. I don't plan on
it." A pause. "Which rather goes without saying, doesn't it?" She leans
forward to lay her card on Beli's table, glancing to Hector as she does.
"Quite likely, 'twould *think*, and you'd have t'take lessons in it from
some men I could name for you, assuming there's any way t'be teaching such
things. 'Here's how you keep from dying of sheer virility.'"

There's a moment of protest written across Iesia's face, and then a dark
glower. "Not mine," she mutters angrily. But at Beli's words for her (and
not Des, much to her dismay), she starts. "What do you mean about
Weyrwoman..." but she won't even go there. "Right," she decides, a smirk
slowly growing. "Clever, really, to be so vague." Beat. "Yes," she decides
to Chaton. "Guess work. Not a word true," but is it really him she's trying
to convince?

R'din blinks as he's hit by a double whammy: Desdinova and Beli, looking at
each accordingly. "Well, now." He looks down at the card, contemplating it
before tossing it high up into the air back towards Beli's deck. The
rider's smirking, but at what or who isn't clear. His eyes turn to
Desdinova first, but doesn't say anything to her, then switches his
attention over to Iesia, again, silent.

Chaton shakes his head. "Guesswork." he repetes, to himself, a semiaudiable
chant. He sighs. "I'll see you later, Iesia. I think I'm going to go check
on the lake... make sure it's still there."

Beli confirms, "Screeching," as if it were quite obvious. "Oh," she assures
Hector, "I know the eggs well, but not about the Hatching." She glances
after Chaton, then back to Kaveshun. Who she frowns at. "Perhaps there's
more importance to the sisters than you care to see. Have you seen them
lately? Written them? Perhaps there's news. I wouldn't be so sure there
isn't." To Iesia, "Would you like me to be more specific? I'd had the
feeling your favorite color was a secret, no? I'm happy to reveal it if you
like." She smiles at R'din, too, and reaches for the card - missing the
catch, of course. She gathers them together, however, and sneaks a peek at
the card she'd picked for herself, as well. Her expression, upon seeing it,
turns a bit grim. Resigned. Maybe she's just tired, however. "I think
that's all I can do tonight," she murmurs, mosty to herself, with a glance
around at the less-than-happy and/or skeptical faces.

The flow of predictions and advice from Beli leaves Desdinova a bit
overwhelmed, even if none was actually for her. She flops back ino her
seat, lapsing quiet herself as she looks at each of the people in turn. If
her gaze hovers on her fellow candidates a bit longer than those she
doesn't know as well, that could possibly be forgiven. "Jealousy," She does
comment, in Hector's direction, "Is a potent and foul emotion. I recommend
avoiding it whenever possible. And children. They are even worse."

"I don't care," says Iesia of her color. But there's a definite air of
defensiveness, and she turns away from looking at Beli. "Make sure... oh.
Alright then, Chaton. Um. Bye." Frown. Weirdo. "I've had enough of this.
I'm hungry." She pulls her hand back and stands, stalking towards the
serving tables without a glance back, definitely in a foul mood.

Hector feels a little ill at Kassima's words. "I don't need to be as virile
as all that," he says. "I'm not ready to be thinking about children at all,
much less eleven and how to manage them. Maybe the eleven would include
children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. Plus my sister's
children. That might add up to eleven without getting too crazy." He nods
to Desdinova. "Jealousy can be quite dangerous. That's why it's best to get
involved with only one person at a time. I don't know how riders do it." At
least, how the stories say they do.

Tannusen just hands his card over with a wry chuckle. "The only part I'm
skeptical of is the babies," he comments to Beli, in case she worried.
"Especially considering my track record with women."

Beli smiles a little at Tannu as she packs up her things, and doesn't trod
any further upon Iesia's temper. She does look a little exhausted, now that
it's all come to a halt. A screeching one, even. She gets up, teacups and
such in hand, and sidetracks into the kitchens, coming back later for the
rest of her things. The poor old book didn't even get a run this time.

Beli wanders into the Weyr's kitchens.

Kaveshun rolls his eyes at Beli. "I don' care if there were news of 'em. I
won't be seein' or hearin' of 'em wherries again." He does shift
uncomfortably in his seat, arms still crossed tightly. "I ain't ever gonna
tell 'em where 'm at, either." He does finally push away from the table,
trotting over towards those pastries he saw earlier.

R'din lets go of the hand he was holding, watching Beli as she finishes for
the night, "Thank you for the reading." Once she's gone, R'din stands up,
stretching his back and arms out before glancing around. "I do think I'll
go and enjoy some fresh air." A little salute as he turns on his heels,
departing towards the Bowl.

"Add up children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, and you're less
likely t'have eleven than, oh. Forty-two. Or you could get into the
hundreds," Kassima supposes, wandering into visions of spawnings galore.
"If'n you have eleven children, and each of 'em have eleven, you're into
hundreds a'fore you're even to great-grandchildren--if'n the
eleven-times-eleven grandchildren had eleven children each, we're talking
*thousands*. Thousands of descendants wandering around. You," she decides
abruptly, pointing at Hector, "need t'get acquainted with some women with K
in their names, who *aren't* m'daughters, let me just clarify. G'night,
Beli!" The call's too late; she missed her chance, daydreaming of hordes of
Hectorlings.

R'din walks out to the Bowl.

Chaton walks out to the Bowl.

"But," Desdinova says to Hector. "Perhaps that is the wrong angle to take.
After all, if you only have that one true love, isn't it possible that you
hold on to them all the tighter?" She grins a little. "Someone once tried
to explain that to me, thatloving one person only meant you would resent
anyone else they were affectionate towards. But if you open yourself to the
love of all, then you don't feel that same stifling need to be their only
love either, and thus... No need to be jealous." She reaches out for her
forgotten juice, frwoning to find her cup empty. "I'm not sure I could do
that, but the theory... It's interesting."

Hector feels like he is in desperate need of some air, as Kassima breeds
him into having hundreds, even thousands of descendants. Hectorlings! Great
Faranth. "No way! That's crazy! I'm not having eleven children, and my
children aren't having eleven children. People aren't meant to breed like
felines. Or firelizards, for that matter," he says, thinking about all the
eggs people talk about their firelizards having. He looks at Desdinova,
considering her words. "Maybe some people only have one love in a lifetime,
but probably most people have more than one. But if you try to split your
affection between two or more people, you aren't being fair to any of them.
I don't think I could be involved with a bunch of people at once without
feeling bad. Maybe some people could, though."

The young dragonhealer waves after Beli, and then as the conversation winds
onward into more and more hazardous territory, Tannusen gathers up his klah
mug and takes a sip, thereby avoiding having to comment!

Kassima is entirely cheerful in informing Hector, "I've almost that many!
One of m'dearest friends does have that many! And he's got t'be having a
twelfth sometime, I'm telling you, I won't let him rest until he does--I've
got marks riding on that. A'course, now we've got our children having
children together, and 'tis a bit confusing because we *have* children.
M'daughter loves telling people her brother knocked her sister up. Weyrs.
But at least none of 'em are named Karxarylnim," she philosophizes, leaving
her chair to fetch a fresh glass of wine. "That sort of thing happens more
in the Holding."

Desdinova stands, offering a curious smile to Hector. "That assumes a
zero-sum equation, though. Giving to one must take away from another. What
if that is not true?" A shrug. "Anyway, I've chores to be getting done, or
Kassima will have my hide for shirking." She offers a smile to the
coordinator before turning back to Hector. "See you later, Hector." She
turns, then, making her way towards the inner caverns of the Weyr.

Hector scratches his head, listening to Kassima's story. "You let your
daughter get, um, pregnant by her brother? Don't people keep better track
of their bloodlines than that? My family raises runners, and we're always
very careful about how much inbreeding happens. Sometimes a little is okay,
but you never know what other characteristics are going to be strengthened,
along with the ones that you want. People are a different matter, though."
He smiles and waves to Desdinova as she goes. "I'll catch up with you soon,
I'm sure."

And then there were three. Tannusen's eyebrows go up, and he glances at the
other occupants... both of them... of the table before easing to his feet
and taking his klah with him. "And on that note," he says with some
well-done cheerfulness, "I've got laps to run." And he waves at both with
his free hand before making his exit, all but sidling out of the living
cavern.

"Evening, Desdinova," Kassi says, waving to the younger woman. She shakes
her head vigorously at Hector. "Kisai is m'daughter," she attempts to
explain. "I'sai's her father. I have another daughter by Jh'rin, Kharisma;
I'sai has a son by Saskia, I'kan. I'kan and Kharisma have a son, Khan. When
Khari was pregnant Kisai was fairly well grossed out by it--Kaisan too,
that's m'other child with Is--because her brother and sister were spawning,
d'you see? Creepy, creepy, creepy, but nay incestual. G'deve, Tannusen,"
and this time she may not miss; she nods to him as he leaves.

The cavern did empty rather quickly. "See you, Tannusen," Hector calls with
a wave. And he's left with Kassima, who seems to be insisting on him having
lots and lots of babies. He isn't sure he even understands how her children
are or aren't related, but he will believe her when she says it isn't
incestuous. "Ah. Well, sounds complicated. You might need a bloodline book
just to keep everyone straight. The problem with everyone having so many
children. You should exchange them with other Weyrs to mix up the
bloodlines." As if trading children were as easy as trading runners.

Kassima wrinkles her nose. "I suppose I did. Nay intentionally... Kim's at
Telgar still, Khari and Ky at Benden, Kris at Benden Hold. Kay's at Ista,
a'course. Kisai's wandering around with Traders. Kazy's here, Kaisan's...
Tillek this sevenday, I'm thinking, seeing what he thinks about boats.
M'line isn't so bad. You should be talking t'Lanisa about *hers*!" Maybe
just one rib wouldn't hurt? Now that she's met the future? Unless the rib
gives her food poisoning... shard that, she filches the meaty goodness.
"Weyr children do seem t'be ending up all over the place."

Hector hums as he considers that. "I suppose it's good, though. Your
children are all grown, right? It's good for them to go out in the world
and find their own way. Sometimes staying at home with family is good, but
it isn't for everyone. I imagine my sister will stay in Keroon, marry some
boy, and raise a bunch of children who love riding runnerbeasts too. I
don't think she'll have eleven either, though." A pointed look at Kassima,
then he sighs. "I don't know how all the riders to it. Keep straight all
their relationships, I mean."

"Most of 'em." Kassima drinks her wine. "I'd have 'em all here if'n I
could. You're right, though. They have t'go where they're happy.
Relationships; what, y'mean whose sibling is whose?"

Sylotra ambles out from the inner caverns.

Hector shakes his head. "No, love relationships. How riders get involved
with so many different other people at once. Don't they get confused,
trying to remember what they did what with whom, when? I know sometimes I
get confused just thinking about all the people I meet around here, and I'm
not romantically involved with anyone."

Sylotra swings out of the inner caverns, chatting quietly with one of the
smiths assigned to the Weyr. Lotra shakes her head at something the smith
says and the young man sighs in disappointment, breaking away from Lotra to
go sit with his peers. The girl continues towards the meal tables, a
peturbed look on her face as she chooses a sweetroll and juice for her snack.

The clarification brings back that slight smile Kassi wore while talking to
Kaveshun. "Nay all of us do. 'Twas involved with more than one person at
once only once, really... it didn't go well. I have a weyrmate and he's all
the love I need or want. But," and she hitches a shoulder, "some do want
more--or need more--and they mayhaps could be answering it better, but for
what 'tis worth you'd nay have t'go out and find yourself a bunch of women
if'n you Impressed. I teased you only." She grins at him now, and salutes
with her wine glass before turning to wiggle it greetingly to Sylotra.
"G'deve, Sylotra. Something amiss?"

Hector sighs in some relief at Kassima's words. "Good, because I don't
think I could manage the responsibility of a bunch of children with a bunch
of different women. If I have one or two in the future, then I do, but it
won't be very soon." When he spots Sylotra, he smiles and waves. "I
probably should get back to my chores, though. I left some things
unfinished, and I'm sure to get a scolding if I don't go back and finish up."

Hector strides through the passageway into the Inner Caverns.

Sylotra plunks her mug down near Kassima and waves after Hector. In
response to Kassima's question, she shrugs a bit, "Not really, I guess. One
of the smiths is missing a rather large bit of creativity and he was hoping
I'd seen it today." She sits and takes a bite of her sweetroll.

"Missing creativity," Kassima repeats, mystified. "What, was he thinking
you'd have it in one of those boxes of things you sketch? One gear wheel,
one bolt, one bit of metal that does Faranth alone knows what, one lump of
creativity, slightly soiled."

Sylotra chuckles softly, "Probably. I was done with that a sevenday ago,
though. He made a metal man puppet with glows for eyes. It was kind of
cute." She polishes off her sweetroll and licks her fingers.

Kassima's vague eyes suggest she's trying to picture this. "You'd have
t'keep pulling his eyes out and popping new ones in as the glows died. I
can't decide whether a child would be finding that disturbing or fantastic.
How's he expecting you t'have his creativity, then?"

Sylotra pulls out a kerchief to wipes her hands before she responds, her
eyes reflecting her confusion, "I don't know. He kept hinting that maybe
I'd loaned it out to one of my candidate friends for some kind of prank.
Strangely enough, he seemed to almost wish I had found some use for it."
She glances back at the table where the younger smith is sitting with older
smiths, a little aside from them.

Kassima, more mystified than ever, steals a glance the way Sylotra's
looking. "He must be stumped on something," she ventures after a second.
"Trying t'make light of it with jokes, mayhaps. Is there some project he's
working on now?"

Sylotra nods, "Something with wheels and gears...like a wagon that you
pedal with your feet. I don't know if he'll get it to work, though. He's
always making things that he thinks will be more fun than practical." She
smiles a bit at the thought and sips her juice.

And so Desdinova returns, looking more tired than when she left, but
perhaps a bit less out of sorts. Her hair is plastered to her cheeks and
neck, evidence that she spent the time away soaking in the baths more than
doing any chores, her clothing adjusted to a warm and soft wool outfit that
is likely meant more for resting than working. She stops at the serving
table for a fresh cup of juice, her ears catching a familar voice while she
pours. It's with a bright smile that she approaches where Sylotra sits with
the others. "May I join you?" She asks, eyes flicking between them.

Kassima chews on her lip in thought. "Wonder what all the sand would do for
traction here. If'n he has a sense of fun, he'll be all right--" She even
wiggles her fingers at the young Smith across the room, which all things
considered may be confusing. "I can't remember," she says to Sylotra, "did
I tell you? Neiravi picked your sketch out of the grab bag. Thankee again
for donating that. G'deve again, Desdinova; chores finished now?"

Sylotra nods at Kassima, "Aye, you told me. I was right glad to do it. And
yes, he's fun. And a good friend. He helped me out when I accidently broke
one of the other smith's contraptions while testing it out. He's just a
little...out there. Gets caught up in his work, you know?" She follows
Kassi's sight and waggling fingers and sees her friend blink in confusion
before lifting a hand to wave in return with a quirky smile. Lotra chuckles
and turns to smile up at Des, "Sit, rest. You look tired."

"Chores are tiring." Desdinova replies to Sylotra, dropping onto a seat
next to her heavily. "But, thankfully, complete." She grins towards
Kassima, "Truly told, before the fortune telling began, but they are always
a good, and inarguable, excuse to get away for a few minutes of thought."
She looks back to Sylotra, "Neiravi got one of your sketches? She must be
thrilled, they are lovely. Though I've no complaints, the pendant I got is
lovely."

Kassima makes a face and touches her forehead. "M'mind's going. Too bloody
much t'be keeping track of. When the Hatching's done, I wonder if'n A'deth
would be amenable t'being hauled off t'Boll for a much-belated two-sevenday
vacation where I don't have t'keep track of aught but the number of
swimsuits I pack." She supposes of the Smith, sounding amused, "His mind's
still in the box of wheels wherever his body is." At last she polishes off
the half-forgotten and much neglected rib. This necessitates finding a
napkin; while she pokes around looking for one, "'Tis as with Beli and the
cards, I'm glad it went t'someone who appreciates it." Desdinova gets a
quick-flashed smile.

Sylotra snerks a bit at Kassima's wish to go on vacation, "Can the
Assistant Weyrling Master take a vacation with new baby dragons in the
barracks?" She's a spoil sport, ain't she? To the comment about the smith,
she nods, "Exactly." She whips out her kerchief again and offers it to the
greenrider as the grins at Des, "Oh, really? I'd like to see it sometime."

Desdinova looks over at Sylotra, a bit suprised. "I thought I showed it to
you not long after I got it? I could be misremembering, it's possible I
didn't, I was a bit distracted by having someone fall asleep on me. But I
will definately, it's a very pretty bit of crystal on a cord. You'd
appreciate it, I think, being minecraft-raised." She grins brightly, and
laughs a little at Kassima's comment. "I think you deserve one." She says
supportively. "I know I'd need one, putting up with me for months. And I'm
one of the /easy/ ones."

"Depends whether she stays the Assistant Weyrlingmaster. 'Twill be for the
new Weyrlingmaster t'decide, once they're chosen--if'n they aren't, I'm
free. Freeeeeeeee!" Kassi stretches her arms out wide and does a ridiculous
little spin. "Nay more cleaning up anyone's waste. You do nay feel like
dancing after a bout with constipated dragonets. Nay burying vomit unless
A'deth gets *really* drunk. Thankee!" Accepting the kerchief, she takes
care to clean as much rib sauce from her lips as she can with her tongue,
silly though this makes her look, before dabbing; the better not to stain
it more than need be. "I don't regret any of you individually. As a group
either, or I'd nay be hauling you out to the desert t'be spending a whole
evening with you... or mayhaps *'twould*, hoping some of you would die and
be eaten by crawly desert things, but that's nay actually m'motive. I could
just use a breather when 'tis all done."

Alleyana has arrived.

IGEN-> A'deth never vomits when he's drunk.

[Editor's Note:  The game blipped here.]

"Much of that sounds familiar," comments a voice from the entrance to the
bowl, and in strides Alley again, though not covered in travel dust like
the last time she was seen walking around in here. This time her uniform is
crisp and clean, boots polished and knot straightened!

Sylotra shakes her head at Des, "I don't think I saw it t'other night on
the heights. Sounds pretty." She watches Kassima dance about at the thought
of being free from candidates and Weyrlings. The comment about being eaten
by crawly things draws a giggle from the girl. "I agree, you need a
vacation. But the poor Weyrlings, bereft of your presence and experience
during training...saddens one. Oh, I forgot to ask, would you like a
painting of you and A'deth doing the table tango together? I'm still
learning painting technique, so it might not be the best, but I thought it
would make a nice portrait to try my new skills on." (repose)

"Well, if I wake up being consumed by tunnelsnakes, I will know where your
true feelings lie, Kassima." Desdinova replies cheekily. "But I am looking
forward to that." She looks to Lotra and smiles more, "Well, next time I am
in the barracks I will grab it, and find you straight away. I'm even
getting something nice to wear at the Hatching feast to go along with it. I
really think you will like it." She looks past Sylotra to Alleyana, but not
knowing her, doesn't reply.

Kassima dabs at her chin once more and then folds the kerchief neatly and
offers it back to Sylotra. "I'm nay sure 'twould sadden the Weyrlings," she
says, wry. "If'n I'm asked t'be assisting again, I probably will anyway. I
can't count m'Hector-spawn a'fore they're born." Glancing entrance-wards
she dips her chin in a nod of greeting to Alleyana: "Igen's duties t'Igen.
The vomit or the being eaten by crawly desert things? *I* may end up
consumed by tunnelsnakes, Desdinova, y'never know. Wouldn't that be an
adventure? Someone would go t'wake me up in the morning and behold,
greenrider bones all picked clean! For the record, I'd want 'em buried at
Benden Weyr. But you'd probably just *leave* me there."

Kassima then turns a brilliant grin on Sylotra. "A painting--? You're
serious? I'd *love* that! I can't get him t'paint himself 'tall, yet, I've
naught of us together and I'd dearly love something. I'd pay you t'do a
thing like that."

Sylotra beams at Kassima, "I'll let you see the painting before I let you
pay for it. If you are happy with it, I'll take fair commission price for
it. Paint himself, hmm? A'deth is a painter?" She takes her kerchief back
and tucks it away.

Desdinova's expression is one of feigned hurt. "Kassima." She says, her
voice full of feigned woe. "I am sad that you would think so little of me.
You can be sure I would do my best to hide the body if anything untoward
were to happen to you." But the conversation is too much for her, and she
giggles. "But nothing better! You've always been kind to me since I got
here, I'd be sad if you disappeared. And compared to some, I imagine you'd
be a downright pleasant assistant. You treat us like people, not like...
Well, the muck on the bottom of your shoes."

"All of the above," grunts the weather-beaten, hook-nosed, scar-laced
guard. She heads predictably for the klah, pouring a round into a mug and
taking a drink.

Kassima bounces on the balls of her feet. "Wonderful. Excellent! 'Twill
have t'find a place. Or...." A thought pauses her mid-bounce. "Mayhaps he'd
like such a thing in his weyr." That she could, theoretically, have a hand
in decorating both weyrs is a new thought, and she's lost for a space of
soft distraction. "He is, i'truth; you should ask him t'see some of his
work. There are dissection sketches if'n naught else, but I'm thinking the
portraits and landscapes do his gifts more justice. Nay sure he'd agree. He
seems t'get pleasure from drawing body parts," she confides. One more glass
of wine she pours and at last she resumes her seat. "Even if'n it meant
digging in roasting weather? Awww, Desdinova. I'm touched! Thankee," more
genuine and with another flick of the wry smile. A tease follows, "You
*are* people. Muck doesn't get into half so much trouble. You're welcome
t'be sitting if'n you like," she calls an offer to Alleyana.

Sylotra giggles at Des and Kassima's banter about bones and hidden bodies,
even as she looks up and gives Alleyana a respectful nod. The giggles might
tend to detract from the respectfulness, but she can't be held responsible,
now, can she? Back to Kassima she ahs softly, "Body parts...Dragonhealer. I
don't think I'd like drawing body parts. Bodies, yes. Parts inside or
detached from, no. S'why I draw for the smiths and not the healers," she
says with a wry grimace. "I'll have to ask about seeing some of his
landscapes or something."

"Thank you, m... Kassima." Desdinova says, catching herself from the
dreaded title. "And truly, burying's not the best way to do it. I think
you'd be better served seducing a rider, and having them help you drop it
between. Noone'll find it there, I'd think, and what more fitting sendoff
to any rider?" She grins, and looks over to her friend. "So when did you
start learning to paint? I thought you only did sketches, which were plenty
lovely, I bet our paintings will be equally as impressive." Her eyes widen
a moment, "And speaking of pictures... Do you remember our agreement from
the other day? Well, I talked to Celane, and we worked out a deal for you
to have an egg from her gold's next clutch."

Alley holds up a single finger, her back turned to folks as she takes a
long pull from her mug, draining it. When she lowers it, it's with a simple
enough explanation. "Klah first, socialization after." And she refills her
mug before again taking hold of the pot of klah in her free hand and
bringing both it and her topped-up mug over to the table, plopping the
former down and setting the latter a bit more carefully before kicking a
chair away from the table a bit and sitting down on the front edge of it.
She seems likely to spring up into action at /any/ moment. "Everyone's an
artist, seems like," says the queen of the social graces, eyeing Sylotra.
"You any good?"

"I had never thought of seducing someone into helping me get rid of a bunch
of bones tunnelsnakes had eaten." Kassima considers what she just said.
"Never thought I'd have occasion t'say that, either. You could always be
asking. If'n they're very clean bones I doubt a rider would mind--they
might want t'be gathering me all up in a bag first, y'know, ease of
carrying, but I'm thinking m'corpse would understand. Let A'deth know he
can have m'skull if'n he wants it," she grandly offers. "Me, either,
Sylotra, but I guess if'n someone has t'be drawing cut-up fire-lizards 'tis
best if'n 'tis someone good at it, and that's another thing I never
imagined I'd say." She leans back in her chair, cradling her wine. By
contrast, she appears thoroughly at leisure. To Alley she quips, "You
should see her draw a mop."

Sylotra's eyes widen at Des, and her mouth falls open. She clamps it shut
after a moment, perhaps realizing how silly she probably looks. She shakes
her head with a laugh, "Really, you know I'd draw something for you without
any promise of return. But, who am I to turn down the promise of an egg? Or
at least the chance to try and capture some hatchling's attention." She
turns her attention to Alleyana and her mirth tones down to a humble smile,
"I'd like to think I can draw fairly well, but you'll have to ask those
who've seen my work for an unbiased opinion. Painting, however, I'm just
learning. Just got my first set of paints a couple sevendays ago and I've
been practicing in my free time." This last bit is said to answer Des'
question about when she started painting. Kassima's comment about cut up
firelizards and offering A'deth her skull causes a loss of what little
smile she has left in exchange for another grimace.

"Sorry, ma'am." This time, Des can't resist the title. "I guess I'm still
in a bit of a surreal mood after Beli's fortune telling earlier. I'll
endevour to avoid topics quite so... Distasteful." She looks to Alleyana,
her tone turning a bit more upbeat. "She is very good." She says, "And
you'll not find someone who says otherwise. 'Cept maybe herself, but that's
just humility, of which she's too much. And Syl," She says, turning to her
friend, "It was an easy trade to make. Probably take me less effort to help
her with her robe, which I would've done anyway if she wanted, than for you
to draw me a pretty picture. Leda is sweet, I'm sure any hatchlings she
produces will be lovely. And since I'm not allowed one of my own, at least
I can help you!"

"As long as she's better drawing mops than you are fighting with brooms,"
Alley's brand of humor is so dry that you could sweep it away with one,
certainly, though she snorts just very faintly at the skull comment.
Gallows humor? /Alley?/ Never. "Ah," she adds to Sylotra, taking a sip of
her second round of klah. "If you ever want to try your hand at glazes, let
Tannu know to let me know, assuming you don't see me around on another
visit by then."

Like Sylotra's, Kassima's good humor fades abruptly. "Desdinova... one more
warning 'twill give. You haven't taken me seriously. I don't want t'be
called that. Calling me so is disrespecting m'wishes, and I don't
appreciate it." It would be hard if not impossible to doubt she's serious
about this; the face she wears now is the one her Wingriders must have seen
once, and Weyrlings more recently, when she gives a final warning. Then
it's gone--she's relaxed again, although the smile's not so fast to return.
"Nay allowed one of your own. A'course you are," she say, shaking her head
a little. "Mayhaps, even--never mind, I don't want t'say aught until I'm
sure. Candidates can be Impressing. You do draw very well," she assures
Sylotra. "Being better with aught than I am with a broom that way isn't
saying much, more's the pity."

IGEN-> Desdinova peers. The rules in the barracks say candidates aren't
allowed to. :)

IGEN-> Kassima points to her +bbpost. :) Yes, you can. That rule's
obsolete, but the +lhelp's a bit of a bugger to work with, I gather.

IGEN-> Desdinova dohs! I missed that, somehow. *Blush* Now I feels tupid. :)

IGEN-> Desdinova says, "Ahh, I see, it's a new post. ^.^"

Sylotra nods at Des, "If you say so, I'm willing to take your word for it.
It just feels uneven, since I like to draw so much. It doesn't really feel
like work. Unless I'm drawing odd metal contraptions that only a smith's
mind can figure out." She smiles gratefull at Kassima's praise, but the
broom comments confuse. She turns to Alleyana, "Oh, are you related to
Tannusen? I'll definitely mention that to him, about the glazes.
And...what's this about broom fighting?"

IGEN-> Desdinova doesn't feel quite so silly, lol.

IGEN-> Kassima says, "It's okay. Someday it'll get zapped, it was struck
down last clutch but there wasn't an FL hatching to make it an issue."

IGEN-> Desdinova has mentioned the rule a few times IC, though. ^.^

IGEN-> Sylotra says, "One of Kassima's underlings has been spreading nasty
rumors."

Desdinova winces, shrinking back in her chair a bit. "Sorry, Kassima. I do
try, really. It's hard to break a lifetime's teachings on manners, is all.
My da'd be furious to hear me use your name, even if you say you prefer
it." She looks over to Sylotra for distraction from the oft-repeated
scolding. "I don't mind sewing, either, though, so it's not really work,
and Ce's nice. It's ok, promise. It's nice to be able to get something nice
for someone I like, y'know?" The older woman remains unaddressed, though a
glance towards her and back to Sylotra shows she's not ignoring her.

"She was mock-dueling with a candidate last night when I rode in," Alley
says to Sylotra, "badly. Both of them. And I am, yes." Though she doesn't
really look it, except maybe in the cheekbones, eye shape, lips, chin and
jaw... bone structure, really, minus that obviously once very-broken nose.
She raps her knuckles on the table once, though, eyeing Desdinova. "You
don't live with your father anymore," she says, "you should get used to
calling people by what they want to be called by. Not everyone's a ma'am or
sir, you're not in the military."

"'Tisn't ill-mannered. Just change the way you think on it. What's rude's
calling me a thing that makes me uncomfortable; how's that good manners,
when manners are supposed t'keep everyone at ease?" Kassima wants to know;
she's fairly gentle about it. "Weyrlings have t'call people by title if'n
they don't like ma'am and sir. I've said a'fore you can 'greenrider' me
if'n the other won't do." A soft, wry snort answers Alleyana. "Mock and
mockery both, I know, I know. I've nay skill with a quarterstaff. Certes
none with a broom... could've been worse, though, ask Sylotra. You could've
caught me dancing with it."

Sylotra beams at Des, obviously agreeing with her about doing things for
people you like. In response to the comment about mock-dueling - she looks
disappointed, "Ah, that I would have liked to see...to draw." Then she
covers a yawn causes her jaw to pop audibly, "Sleep, I must...." She hops
up, gives Des a happy smile, waggles her fingers at Kassima and Alleyana,
"The mop was a better partner, I think. The broom...entirely too stiff."
She giggles and moves off through the late evening crowd.

"Sleep well, Sylotra." Des says after her friend, though it's more subdued.
She looks back to the others and frowns a little. "I know. And I said I am
sorry." She looks to Alleyana, "Don't think the military has the exclusive
use of the terms. Most people use them for most everyone who outranks them.
There may be some that prefer otherwise, but it's not the norm, and it does
take adjusting to." She looks to Kassima again. "I will not slip again,
then, Kassima."

Alley just snorts what might be the most faint and short-lived of laughs,
and takes a drink of her klah.

Kassima inclines her head to Desdinova agreeably. "'Tis well. I appreciate
it, that you remember." The last of her wine disappears down her throat. A
hand comes up to rub the back of her neck, and she winces, finding some
sore place. "The two-sevenday vacation has a long ways t'wait on yet, but
I'm going t'take m'breather for the night and get some sleep. Mayhaps
'twill help me avoid getting Beli's sickness." She rises, some vertebra
popping as she does, and flicks a smile down. "G'night t'you both, and
sleep well, whenever 'tis your turns."

"Clear skies, greenrider." Desdinova says, though there remains a chilly
tone to her voice. She looks down into her cup of juice, turning it slowly
and watching the liquid within as Kassima leaves, before glancing again at
Alleyana. "I don't think I've seen you about before." She comments.

"Nope," Alley takes another drink of her klah. Oh look, empty. She sets her
mug down and lifts the pot she'd brought over, refilling it on the spot.
The guard eyes Desdinova like she eyes everyone else; like she's on duty.

You walk out into the Bowl.