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Everybody's Selfish


Date:  May 20, 2008
Place:  Igen Weyr's Main Entrance Field
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:  Kassima and Desdinova met after one of Kyana's fire-
lizard Hatchings when A'deth brought the then-visitor over and 
introduced her to Kassi and Lanisa.  Kassi wasn't sure at the time why
the resident and Dragonhealer hit it off so badly.  Meeting Desdinova
again, she has the chance to find out more.

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The Log:

Desdinova walks out from the Weyr's Living Cavern.

Late into the evening, the bowl is dark and quiet, with only a few
nightowls moving about in it. One of the areas of activity is just outside
the entryway to the infirmary, a few of the aides clustered in a small
group and chatting in loud whispers, the wind rendering the details
inspecific. In the end, there is a moments laughter and the cluster breaks
up, all but one of them wandering back inside. Left-behind is Desdinova,
who moves away from the entryway to lean her back against the stone wall,
looking up towards the dim stars above with a slight smile on her face.

There are better places to watch the sun sinking, and food is sometimes
nice to have as dusk sets in, but here Kassima is anyway--standing beside
her dragon and rummaging in one of the large pouches fixed to Lysseth's
straps while talking to someone else. At least, she thinks she's talking to
someone else. Her bluerider conversation partner is wandering off to
dinner, but buried in the pouch she hasn't yet realized. "Point being we
won't know whether 'twas a fluke unless he catches her again and it happens
again, but if'n enough people believe 'twasn't, I'm nay sure--where'd he
go?" Lysseth makes a sound distinctly kin to a laugh. "Oh, shut up. Heyla,"
the greenrider offers to Desdinova instead, seeing as she's actually here.

Desdinova lowers her gaze to Kassima and offers a slight smile, glancing
off in the direction the bluerider has gone off in. "People should at least
say when they are done. Wandering away like that is just... Rude." She
stands up, turning back towards Kassima fully. "Good evening, ma'am.
Kassima, if I recall? I think we met, anyway, not long after I got here.
Been a lot of names and faces to remember, though, so I apologise if I am
mistaken." She looks to Lysseth, "She's yours?"


Desdinova:
	While there is nothing obviously outstanding about this woman, there 
is nevertheless an air of regality to her. She is perhaps a bit on the 
short side, at less than five and a half feet tall, but her long legs often 
make her feel taller. Her hair is a dark black color and falls in perfectly
straight lines to her shoulders, framing an oval face. Her eyes are pale
slate grey, though their shape and angling warms their frosty coloring. Her
skin is an even olive tone, smooth and blemish-free save for a long scar on
the back of one hand.

	Her clothing is simple wherhide, dyed a dark color somewhere between 
navy and black. She wears a pair of sturdy wherhide trousers, well fitted 
and crisp over her form. Above, she wears a simple cotten shirt, dyed a 
deep navy and covered by a rumpled and worn riding jacket. On her feet are 
plain boots, brown sued with matte-colored boots.


"He's sick of the debate, most like. There's nay answer to it until
Lhiannonth rises again, so it gets chewed on, over and over, and 'twas
Hiceme who brought it up but she's already gone in...." It occurs to
Kassima she's going into more detail than may, perhaps, be necessary. She
waves off the departing bluerider with a wry sort of grin. "*Only* Kassima.
Never ma'am. Never ever ever, ever. Weren't you in the Cavern after Kyana's
latest Hatching? Just in from South Boll--nay," she corrects herself.
"That's Neiravi. Sorry. This snickering green beast? Aye, I'm stuck with
her, and she with me, so pity us both. She's Lysseth." The beast in
question snorts as softly as a dragon can.

"Pretty." Des says, looking the green over with a critical eye. "And I
remember you don't like titles, but when I'm unsure of a name, manners
demand a modicum of politeness." She gives a shrug and a crooked grin. "And
yeah. Right hatching, wrong place. Nowhere so large as Boll, just a little
cothold with more kids than future. But that's history. Here now, and
settled in pretty well, and rather liking it. Iesia lured me from the
kitchens, which were, ahh, not working out, to help in ghe Infirmary. Much
better."

Kassima rubs her lifemate's shoulder in wordless reassurance after that
latest crack, not that Lysseth seems to need it; she eyes Desdinova right
back, the whirl of blue within those facets a slow, measured thing. "You
can go with Assistant Weyrlingmaster if'n you have to," the woman says.
"And rider or greenrider's always appropriate. Kassi's better. This is
where I shudder and profess pity for you, working with *Healers*." She does
shudder, but the gesture's obviously exaggerated. "That's the second time
I've heard of someone trading the kitchens for Healerish business, or
wanting to. D'you get on any better with A'deth now that you're sharing
workspace?"

"It's a big place. Easy to avoid someone." Des replies bluntly. "And now I
have met you again, I won't forget. It's easier now not every face and name
is new. Kassi." She glances back at the infirmary. "But no, I haven't
really seen him to see if we get along any better. I'm in no hurry to do
so. Doubt he is either. Some people just... Grate. Why don't you like
healers?"

"Aye. Easier for me t'be recalling you're Desdinova." Kassima's eyebrows
twitch as though they'd like to rise, but don't, quite. "Nay all
personalities mesh, that's true enough; I don't like their impulse t'poke
me and prod me and tell me what I should eat and do. Plus, there's the
unhealthy fixation with rose petals some of 'em have. They aren't so bad
outside the Infirmary--well, usually. It sounds as though you don't mind 'em."

"I stay healthy, so they leave me alone on that front." She turns back to
facing Kassima, falling back to lean against the wall of the bowl again.
"You get sick a lot, that they poke you that much? If so, sorry to hear it.
Still, big difference between working around them and being annoyed by
them. Less backbiting in there, and les speople who remind you of things
like spilling hot stew over your hand on your first day."

Kassima shakes her head, the sash of her sunhat--which is askew, so the
blue cloth drapes more over her shoulder than down her back as it
ought--swaying along with the motion. "Pregnant," she explains, "eight
times. It's been Turns and Turns, but 'twas enough t'make me wary of 'em
forever. They actually weren't bad when m'leg was Threaded, and I have
known one or two... but when I think of Healers the nagging's what I
remember. Anyway. The kitchens were as bad as that?"

"Being the new girl sucks. Being the new girl who does something stupid?
Well, that stays with you. Got tired of it." Des explains. "Eight kids?
That's... A lot. Not sure I'd want more than one, if that, myself. Kids and
I, we don't get along well." A slightly nasty edge to her smile. "Much as I
don't get along with certain riders. Wonder if there's a link? But." She
glances at Kassima's leg, "You were scored? That must have hurt..."

Kassima waves off any claim of stupidity. "If'n they're claiming they never
spill hot things on themselves or slash up their fingers, they must have
short memories--I'm thinking every cook does it. Keep it in mind mayhaps
if'n anyone gets on you about it again. If'n they *haven't*, mayhaps
they're nay as experienced as they'd have you believe, y'ken?" She tugs her
hat around to its proper position. "You're scarce alone in that; just as
well you didn't end up in the nurseries. I love 'em all dearly. And
'twouldn't blame anyone for nay wanting t'repeat the experience,
particularly the births. Awful. Horrible. I'm thinking," dryly indeed,
"what bothers you about certain riders may be different than what bugs
about children? Unless the children flirt and lech. There's a fun mental
image t'have. Aye, 'twas." Glancing down, she traces a line over her right
leg: high across the upper thigh, well hidden by her trousers. "In the
final Fall of the proper Pass. First time I took a hit, wouldn't you know?"

A slight shudder passes through Des. "Y'know, I'd try about anything once,
but working in the nurseries woulda had me on the next dragon out of here.
That's just... Not going to happen. And, true, most kids don't flirt and
letch, as you put it, but there is an inherent... Selfishness, in both, I
guess." A shrug of her shoulders and another grin. "And selfishness is
something I know much about. I excel at it, really." Another glance down,
"It seems to have healed well. Though I guess U haven't been watching to
see if there is a limp there. Bad luck though. Were you a rider long,
during the proper Pass?"

"What makes you call him selfish?" Kassima's genuinely curious by the
sound. "Children, I agree, are supremely selfish, and unlike most
adults--thank Faranth--they're also loud, shrill, and have a tendency t'do
unfortunate things in their trousers." Mother or no, many children or no,
her nose still wrinkles in amused distaste. "I only limp when I've put a
lot of stress on it. Longer than I'm about t'be admitting--'twas a
Wingleader much of the time. And now a'course I'm more-or-less in a sort of
retirement again, along with the rest."

"Everyone is selfish." Des replies, with a shrug. "I am. Kids are. I'm sure
you have your moments. Riders are more than most, and with obvious good
reason." She tucks her hands into the pockets of her trousers. "Am I wrong?"

Kassima nods agreeably enough; either she does have her moments or isn't
inclined to argue. "It might depend on what you call selfish," she offers.
"Riders want and get good things in life often enough, but 'tis arguable
when you spend your time either risking your life or preparing t'do it,
getting eaten alive, etceteras, for the livelihood of others, 'tis t'be
expected you'd need something t'keep you going. And none of that's t'say
riders can't be completely self-centered jerks. You just can't tell me
Holders aren't sometimes as bad."

"Nah, would never say that, though mostly I'd call them uptight asses. But.
I'm pretty free with my opinions on people, and they are rarely good, even
for the people I like." She cants her head. "I think that's why most people
don't bother asking my opinion. I believe even Iesia finds it annoying."
She shifts and kicks at a small stone, and grins. "Or maybe I'm just in a
weird mood tonight, who knows?"

"Well, and that depends on the Holders." If anything Kassima seems
entertained by the conversation. "I am a bit surprised you and he don't get
on. You've certes both an ability t'be forthright. I don't think I want
t'be knowing your opinion of *me*, but other things--why nay? 'Tis at the
very least interesting." A soft snort of amusement, not unlike the sound
her lifemate made earlier. "At least I can see how you could hold your own
with Healers."

"You don't grow up with handfuls of brothers and not be able to hold your
own against most anyone." Des says, laughing. "And there are enough people
in the world who say the sweet thing, the subtle thing, the two-faced
thing. I prefer to be honest with the world." She pushes off the wall,
pacing a bit. "I should meet him again, though. I was... Well. When
cornered, people often lash out, and it wasn't a good time. You.." A shrug.
"I've met you twice. You've been nice. Honest. What complaint would I have?
And you answer questions when I ask them. That's nice."

Laughing too, Kassima says, "Looking at m'children 'twould say 'twas more
the sisters who taught their brothers t'hold their own! The sweet and the
subtle isn't always the deceptive, though methinks I know what you mean.
There are times--aye." Her grins shifts into a wry quirk of one mouth
corner. "I'd guess he didn't mean t'corner you. Nay that I can speak for
him. I can say, with authority, he's nay as innately selfish as you're
thinking... and you might still nay like him. 'Tis that way sometimes, aye?
Anyway, you answer m'questions, 'tis fair I should do the same for yours.
'Tisn't any bother."

"Wasn't him, specifically. It was very... Overwhelming. I don't cope well
with it." Desdinova shrugs and starts walking, in a slow circle around the
greenrider and her dragon. "So, I guess I'll have to, like, actually talk
to him. Apologise. Never been a strong point, but such is life." She
pauses, looking over at Kassima. "You know him, clearly. You could, like,
arrange something. Mediate. Or something. Or at least kick me if I'm being
stupid."

"New place?" Kassima supposes. "New people, unhappy situation 'twere
leaving, a big crowd in the room from the Hatching, 'overwhelming' would be
one word for it." While Desdinova is on her side of Lysseth, she watches
the younger woman's progress. "It couldn't hurt. Improve the working
atmosphere, all that. D'you want me to?" The quirk turns into a lift, then
breaks into a full grin again: the circle of facial expression life! "He's
m'beloved, so 'tis fair t'say I know him. For what 'tis worth, though, I
don't think 'twould prevent me from kicking him if'n *he's* being stupid.
Gently."

Surprise stops Des, only a few steps after she'd resumed her pacing. "Huh."
She says, for a moment lost. "Now, see, that I didn't know. Definately
talking to the right person, then, yes. Would be very nice if you could do
that, though I guess this means there is some risk that I'm setting myself
up to be double teamed. But you don't seem the type. How long have you
known him? I never would have guessed you were involved."

Kassima's laugh is silent, under her breath, so it's really the quiver of
shoulders that gives her away. "'Tis a relatively recent development.
Whether you mean it in the sense of siding with him against you, or
something more in line with the flirting and leching thing--nay. Nay the
double-teaming type. I promise." One more quiet snicker and she gets
control of herself, if not without a headshake. "We met more Turns ago than
I care t'be thinking on, and I came away from that meeting thinking he was
utterly selfish and honorless. Didn't get t'know him again until he came
back t'Igen, a bit over a Turn and a half ago now, and we've been involved
for... I don't think 'tis a Turn yet. I never would've expected it m'self."

Desdinova nods firmly. "Well. Then. It will be something to look forward
to. Or something like that." She resumes her pacing, again circling. "So
you thought him honorless and selfish too? Well, at least I'm not the only
one to make that alleged mistake." Her tone leaves it clear that she is
still a bit unconvinved that her initial opinion is untrue. "I tend to work
in the late evenings in the infirmary, but any other time... You, clearly,
will know best what works for yourself and for him." Curiosiy peeks back
through again, "Was it hard to change your opinion of him?"

"Mayhaps between your shifts. He works night shift there oft enough. 'Twill
ask him what works," Kassi says, "and we'll arrange something." She grins a
little for that tone from the other woman; she doesn't comment on it
directly, though. "I made a somewhat hasty--if'n nay without reason--
judgment. Lost Turns and Turns of time I could've had... or nay, y'never 
know what would've happened. 'Twas mostly the Turns that did it." She 
ponders the question a minute, her gaze briefly turning inward. "He came 
back, and 'twas in some ways a different person, and so was he; the old 
grudge didn't seem worth holding. He's still a reprobate, mind you. But I 
found we had things in common, and then he was kind t'me when I'd nay given 
him that much reason t'be so. I'd liked him at our meeting until he did 
something unfortunate; he reminded me why I'd liked him, and 'twasn't 
difficult t'like him again."

"He did seem nice when we were first talking." Desdinova admits. "I just
didn't, don't, cope very well with people like that. Flirty. So much of it
just seems either disingenuous, or at least... I dunno. Crude." A shrug and
she stops, back near where she started. "But I'm getting used to it. Well,
being near it. People, thankfully, seem to realise I am a poor target for
such things. Thank Faranth."

Kassima's nod is understanding. She admits in turn, "There's a fair amount
of it in a Weyr. Crudeness, too. I've lived around it for a lifetime and I
still get embarrassed and awkward sometimes. Some might be sincere in
it--say you aren't interested though and if'n they don't back off, anyone
else around will likely be glad t'smack them upside the head for you.
People may be forthright but there's still such a thing as manners and
respect." The rider wrinkles her nose. "I'm all in favor of kneeing any man
who forgets the fact."

"Don't need anyone to do my slapping for me. Or, come to it, my kneeing."
Des says, a briefly feral grin peeking out. "And yes, there is.
Greenriders, no offence, seem to be a source of much of i, but I am led to
believe that it isn't their fault, so much as a byproduct of the natural
urges of your weyrmates. So I don't hold that against y'all, as long as you
don't hold anything against me." She winces. "Which one did. But he
regretted it."

"Mayhaps you haven't met enough bronzeriders," Kassi offers as droll
suggestion. "There're greenriders like that, but don't believe the
stereotypes saying we all are. I'm more oft chaste than nay, for example.
Some greenriders have relationships nigh as monogamous as Holders', some
don't have or want relationships at all. Flights are a small part of
things." One of her shoulders rises and falls. "But there are some who like
being promiscuous, and always will be, and nay few of 'em seem happy with
life. I certes don't hold it against you if'n you aren't interested in
dallying hither and yon."

"Glad for that, then, thank you." Des cants her head as she hears her name
called from the cavern housing the infirmary. "Ahhh. And there is the
signal that I've overstayed my time in the frsh air. It was nice to talk to
you, Kassima. I will look forward to seeing you again soon." A pause, and a
slightly forced smile. "My regards to your companion, it will be
interesting to see him again." As her name is called again, oouder, she
winces, shoots off a wave, and trots back in with a testy, "I'm here, I'm
here!"

Kassima assures, "Likewise," and lifts her hand in a wave; if she's again
grinning a little for that smile, and there's rueful humor in it, maybe
it's forgiveable. "'Twill see what I can do about that meeting. Good luck
with the Healers!"