-------------------------------------------------------------------------- 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. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- 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. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- 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!"