-------------------------------------------------------------------------- Say It With Flair Date: September 9, 2003 Place: Telgar Weyr Storage Rooms Game: PernMUSH Copyright Info: The World of Pern is copyright(c) to Anne McCaffrey l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kassi's Note: An important scene, this, given its relevance to a certain plot. :) And also a thoroughly enjoyable one. Serendipity allows Kassima to run into I'sai late one evening, and she has news for him--special news, and a good deal of gratitude, which yet more impulsiveness bids her express to him in a potentially memorable fashion. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Log: A single glowbasket spills green-gold light 'round where I'sai sits, slumped, enveloped in a thick-patched blanket as he desultorily roots through a box's offerings: textiles, as usual, but there's a bright-painted set of wooden -somethings- as well. It's not that Kassi walks into the caverns so much as she drifts; difficult not to drift, with the crimson-edged hem of that long black cloak trailing behind her and her footsteps too slow to achieve a really good dramatic flaring instead. And having the hood pulled up probably doesn't help any. Nor the near-inevitable, quiet singing, too quiet for words to be easily made out and accompanied by absent swings of the glowbasket in her left hand that make shadows dance in an oddly strobe-like effect. Until it reaches the shadows cast by the steadier source--"Since there's one person I seem t'run into down here more oft than any other," the greenrider stops her singing to quip; and from her voice alone, it's clear she's keeping a straight face as she says it, "I'm going t'hazard a guess: is that you, Is, rather than some desperate Holdless renegade sneaking through the Pass with that blanket for cover in order t'plunder and steal our store of... what is that, anyway?" "...Oddments," I'sai decides. "Oddments. Oddities. Something," and he holds up one of those bright-painted _somethings_ that, upon further inspection, proves to be a curtain tie-back. And that's a good cloak for you. Very, what's the word? Dramatic," and tired or no, he musters up a decided smile to go with it. Kassima crouches enough to get a better look at those *somethings*: "Decidedly odd," she decides, "if'n nay as odd perhaps as if'n it had been carved in the shape of a fingertail, say. A'course, if'n it *had*, someone probably would have snatched it up by now. Thankee--" She grins at him for it, and brightly so, with just a touch of color. "A gift 'twas, many Turns ago. Sometimes warmer than a jacket, with its length... am I disturbing you, interrupting an important rummaging? 'Twas nay thinking I'd find someone down here; though I should have known that meant I'd find you. I sometimes think you're more apt t'find someone by accident than when you're really looking." I'sai narrows his eyes at her - fingertail, indeed! - but shows off the something in any case: not a fish, true, but a tree with unnaturally red, round fruit. "Who was it from, then? And do you do much dusting of the floor with it? And I was here to be found." He shrugs, one-shouldered, "If you were looking. It's warm enough." Kassima gives up on this crouching idea and sinks to kneel beside him, reaching to try and tap a nail against one of those so-round fruit. "I wonder what sort of curtain would be matching this. From E'vrin, back in the day," speaking again of the cloak; she gives the draping fabric that now pools against the floor indeed a reflexive twitch. "'Tis only long enough for floor-dusting if'n I pad about barefoot. Which I don't, since I'm fond of m'toes... so I see. Is the warmth what you came down for?" Reminded of said warmth, she shakes the hood of the cloak back. Then, "I was. After a fashion. I didn't hunt for your footprints or question Pierron about your whereabouts or aught, or Taralyth either, who'd probably be more in the know. I'd more just hoped t'run into you." I'sai agreeably hands it over: all hers, and she can even try a bite if she wants. "Maybe someone who wanted to be, I don't know, cheerful? And E'vrin - ah. More or less the warmth, I suppose; went to the 'Reaches earlier, tromped around in the maze, got buried in snow," though the last was his own fault. "...And so you did run into me," and he moves over, just enough: there's room on that there crate. Kassima accepts it readily, and makes a show of nibbling at it; only teeth barely touch one of the fruit before she prounounces in mournful tones, "Most inedible. But mayhaps I could wear it in m'hair instead somehow?" She seems inclined to try, pulling the long braid from under her cloak so that she can fuss with it. "Or it might look better in yours; only, the red and that blue aren't quite a match." Just as readily as the oddment does she accept the offered seat, cloak likely brushing against blanket and providing an interesting visual contrast. "Poor man. Then warmth you need, I'd agree, assuming you didn't *deserve* being buried in snow. And I'm glad of it. There's something I wanted t'say t'you, y'see." "Maybe on the end?" I'sai suggests for -her- braid rather than his own, and feigns mild affront in his turn: "Most certainly I didn't -deserve- it. Why, I got some snow down my -back-," and what was his point exactly? "...Anyway. Your accent's deepening again. - Tell me." It's a good suggestion: Kassi runs with it, binding it in with the leather cord that keeps the braid together with something of a flourish. "How's that? --Oh, now, that's simply *tragic*. You must've done an interesting dance, trying t'get it out again," and doesn't she just sound oh-so-pitying of his plight? Why, no. She doesn't. Amusement does fade into a different expression, however, as she studies him; that of someone who's wavering between something sensible and whimsical impulse. Impulse wins. She leans quickly to try and give him an enthusiastic kiss, remarkably so for the hour, and when she pulls back she grins with decided impishness and some color behind it. The explanation: "I wanted t'say 'Thank you,' only, y'know, just *saying* it didn't seem quite adequate somehow. Given givens. So I thought I'd try saying it with extra flair. There was supposed t'be a hug t'go with that, except hugs are tricker things when one's sitting down." That should certainly clear everything up. "Memorable, different," I'sai begins to say, before a mild sniff for that oh-so-intense pity - which in its turn is silenced altogether, in favor of that amazing kiss; when she does pull back, he sets hand to mouth with eyes exaggeratedly wide above, as if to memorize it through Pass and Interval and beyond; so muffled, "That's flair. Definitely flair. But - no need to thank _me_, considering." Kassima's rose flush deepens at such a reaction, but there's far too much sparkle to her eyes for it not to have pleased her. "Always good t'be memorable," she agrees--and whether in matters of hair or other, she doesn't say, perhaps doesn't need to. "Good--'twasn't sure how I'd manage flair, if'n that didn't count. But I didn't mean for *that*." Definite amusement. "Nay that 'twouldn't thank you for that, many times over. And this is *related* to that, after a fashion, so there's that--" Most certainly she doesn't need to; I'sai peeks over his hand that much longer, listening, and then lets it fall. "That -and- the cloak? Nigh overkill, not that you see me protesting, and - " it's then he hesitates, but only slightly, "Related?" "Should I ask whether 'tis the kiss or the cloak I should, should've done away with t'be avoiding overkill?" Kassi needs must inquire, laughter providing its undertone; she does sober slightly at the question, though not enough to stop smiling. "One would certainly think related. Can you guess?" "Which one did someone else give you?" is I'sai's turn to point out, only a little sulkily. "...Not that I begrudge you, mind, it's just - well. Well." He eyes her. "L'cher has taken up all the Starblaze 'fraternizing' on everyone else's behalf?" At that, Kassi laughs outright. "That's the answer I prefer, methinks, since 'tis the one I'd rather resign--well, at least for now. It *does* come in handy in keeping warm." To be true to her word, she unclasps the cloak in question and shrugs it off, though since she's sitting on half of it it's not apt to go very far; "I don't doubt he has--or tried; and if'n K'ran ends up with a handful of pregnant riders as a result then he has only himself t'blame--but L'cher has *naught* t'do with this. I can assure you. D'you want another guess? Or should I be unduly kind for a greenrider and just tell you?" I'sai watches it spill blackness about her hips, her lap - and then eyes her quizzically, venturing only at length, "You? Not-L'cher. Us. ...Related to Kisai, just maybe?" Kassima's smile turns the softer for that guess, softer and slightly lopsided. "Related t'Kisai most definitely, I should be thinking. Most definitely and most closely, if'n nay directly." "Oh." - "Oh," and I'sai lets out a breath, slow; and then all of a sudden says, "You know, Kassi, I'm -glad- you keep yourself in good health, that things go well. So I don't have to worry." Kassima watches him closely; then says, after a beat, "That's an interesting reaction... but so am I, come to that. I'd certainly rather nay explore any alternatives." Another pause. Quietly, "Are you pleased? Displeased? I hoped--but I've worried, too." "No, no. No alternatives." I'sai shifts. "And it's just... you can still do things, most times, no reason to believe this anything else; you can fly, even if carefully, don't have to just sit and, I don't know, knit. It's good. - I'm, I don't know, I should have guessed. If you're happy, and it sounds like you are, I'm happy too." Dark eyes take on an increasing degree of puzzlement; dark brows draw in ever so slightly, forming a line between them. "I can do things," Kassima agrees. "I can fly; I don't even need an escort... what d'you mean, you should have guessed?" "When you asked me to guess," I'sai says, a little helplessly for that puzzlement, for that line. "And, right, escorting you for fun, that's good, it's the making-you-have-one, that's bad. So... it's good to know that you're healthy, that it's going to be okay, that we can be happy instead of all, oh no, oh no, trauma. It's good." Kassima accepts this with a slow nod, much if not all of that perplexity at least clearing--"Right, escorting for fun's fine; and all should be fine, my own healthy eighthborn in eight months, so 'tis just a shame I didn't have marks laid on *me* that way--but I'm certainly happy, the moreso if'n you are. 'Twould only be if'n you weren't that I'd be regretful in the least." "Then we're happy," I'sai asserts with a nod to match. "Happy, happy, happy, and I'll see if I can still get a bet or two, or rather, if a friend can on our behalf; and here..." and he reaches for yet another wooden oddment for her hair.