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M'tri the Snowman


Date:  November 3, 2004
Place:  Telgar Weyr Lake Shore
Game:  PernMUSH
Copyright Info:  The World of Pern is copyright(c) to Anne McCaffrey 
l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.

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Kassi's Note:  Sing it with me now!  'M'tri the snowman was a frozen,
frigid wife; with a sexy hat, and snow on his rear, and a husband with
a knife....'  I should be banned from filking Christmas songs at this
point, really.  M'tri and Daikoth come across Kassi and Lyss at the 
Lake, and the two riders have another of their tempestuous marital 
arguments.  No rumps were patted in the making of this log.

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The Log:

Daikoth flies in from above.

M'tri slides off Daikoth and jumps to the ground, gently caressing an
eyeridge as a thank-you.

"--So find me a mount as fierce as the sun; find me a blade that will make
their blood run! I will ride out at dawn, while the sun's in the sky, so
the wherries can see where the bodies will lie--" No, Kassi's not proddy
again. No fears there. She's wearing colors. She is, however, carolling a
slightly bloodthirsty song with a very fine voice and very much enthusiasm
as she sweeps in rings and figures across the ice of the Lake. The hiss and
scrape of her skates makes an interesting undertone to the singing, anyway.
Lysseth stays safely on shore, idly packing the snow in her vicinity into
things a bit like dragon-sized snowballs. Why, given that she could never
throw them, is one of those questions for the ages.

[Editor's Note:  Credit goes to Julia Ecklar for Kassi's song, 
which is a slightly modified line from Ecklar's 'Temper of 
Revenge.' :) ]

Perhaps, when Daikoth is old and grey-muzzled, he will descend like other
normal dragons and not be showy. Though, now, being neither old nor
grey-muzzled, a simple glide to the lake shore is not appropriate. With
neat and rather tight barrel rolls, the blue dragon angles to the ground
and eventually levels out for a landing, long enough to let his rider drop
to the ground. Not without some exasperation, mind you. The bluerider drops
with a crunch to the icy ground, slants The Look up at his lifemate. "'Lo,
Lysseth," he says with a grin, while Daikoth settles in to look pretty, and
then he peers at Kassi. "Wow...that's slightly...morbid."

Kassima finishes her latest circle, but then slows her skating considerably
to watch the barrel-rolling as well as the increasing darkness will allow.
"I give eight points!" she calls to the pair. "But Lyss says it should be
eight and a half because you didn't throw up, Trii. G'deve t'you both." Her
sudden grin shows quite a few teeth. "What, you've never heard a violent
song a'fore? Where have you been living?"

"I give you a four, but that's only because you haven't left the ice."
M'tri nods and shuffles closer to the frozen ice, deliberately scuffing his
feet against the layer of ice and snow. "If I threw up Daikoth'd never
forgive me." Agreement is rumbled from Daikoth, who is busy curling his
tail just /so/, arching his neck like /that/ and then finally turning to
watch the foolishness of humans on the slippery ice. As he halts on the
edge of the lake, Trii informs her, "I've heard morbid. Just not...isn't
ice skating supposed to be a happy pasttime?

Lysseth watches Daikoth's display from the sidelines, but more as if she
were watching the courtship ritual of some rare animal than as if she's apt
to melt into a puddle of green goo right here and now any time soon. "So
I'd have t'be able t'fly in order t'get decent points from you?" Kassi
surmises, making a face. "That doesn't seem so fair. 'Tis, generally--and I
like t'sing, so I'm happy. It works. Did you come out t'skate too? Need any
song suggestions?"

M'tri nods as though he's finally had an epiphany. "Ahhhh, I see. You flew
last evening quite well," he adds with a flash of teeth in her direction.
"I like my rump unbruised, thank you." Daikoth meanwhile, could care less.
He's not trying to impress anyone. Every she-dragon in her right mind wants
him anyways.

Kassima blinks at M'tri. Twice. And then looks hard-put not to snicker as
she protests, "I don't know what you're talking about--you wouldn't *let*
me fly last evening, remember? 'I have a headache!'" She adopts a rather
piercing, nasal whine. "All I hear from you anymore. You can't imagine what
you're missing, sweeting. So what did bring you out, if'n nay that?"

M'tri shrugs and hitches up his pantlegs, just enough to comfortably drop
into a crouch. "Just a bit of boredom. You should know better than anyone
that this is a nice place to nap. And not half as cold with Dai. Even
though...your singing might ruin that." He looks injured momentarily at her
mockery. "I /did/ have a headache. A piercing headache, likely from your
singing again!"

"Well, aye... in *summer*, when 'tisn't covered with *snow*." That's
Kassima for you. Mistress of logical thought. "Well, goodness, I suppose
if'n 'twere feeling charitable towards you I could always stop the singing.
Problem is, much as you've been denying me, I'm far more inclined to stuff
a snowball down your pants. 'Twill have you know I'm an excellent singer!
Your headache was probably from knocking against your weyr wall when you
were cheating on me with your dozens and dozens of bronzeriders, you hussy."

"Stop being such a linear thinker. Summer is overrated." And demonstrating
that, the young man wraps his arms around himself, tucks his hands under
his arms, and curls over a bit more. Blowing warm air out, he watches the
white fog rise in front of his face while answering, "Were you /spying/ on
me? And what would stuffing a snowball down my pants accomplish? Get me
jumping around and hooting at the cold long enough to keep your singing
from busting my eardrums, maybe?"

"Well, pardon me, m'Lady Winter. I should've known you'd prefer this
season," Kassi makes a show of griping, "frigid as you are. I still have
recent memories of nearly freezing t'death t'make the thought of napping
out here seem fair unappealing, and if'n you think for one moment I'm going
t'curl up around your frozen, spiteful little body when you get home t'warm
you, you've got another think coming. A'*course* 'twas spying. Blackmail,
darling. And if'n truth be told, I took in quite a number of marks from
people all over the Weyr by sneaking them up so they could watch too. You
and your bronzers are *famous* now." A sniffle then. "'Twould make you do
an entertaining little dance. 'Twould be as close as you've come t'pleasing
me in quite some time."

"And you wonder why I leave. Listen to the verbal abuse!" Looking over his
shoulder, he looks at Lysseth to ask, "How do you deal with it?" Thump.
That crouching has grown old apparently. He drops into a seat, wet or not,
and plants his elbows on his knees to respond, "I'm not fridgid. I'm bitter
because of the obvious mistreatment you give me. All the fardling time." He
gasps very loudly at her last comment, eyes widening considerably. "Did
you--" Sniff. "Well, we'll just see about /that/!"

Kassima tosses her head, a gesture which causes her to wobble somewhat on
the ice. "Find me a man, any man, who'd nay heap verbal abuse on you after
all the humiliation you've put me through. The *entire weyr* knows you're
up there howling for your bronzeriders and you won't even look at me. D'you
realize what that means? They point at me! They snigger! They accuse me of
impotence! All your fault, woman!" Lysseth's method of dealing with it
involves a lot of amused rumblesnickering, apparently. "--Trii, are you
nuts? You're going t'freeze your pants off. Did I what?"

M'tri watches almost hopefully as she wobbles, then slaps his knee with a,
"Darn!" in her direction when she maintains her balance. All in good fun,
of course. "Of course they snigger and point. Have you /looked/ at
yourself? Really looked? Why, lookit your nose!" He can't quite keep a
straight face at that, and so instead tries to smile innocently. That works
about as well as keeping a straight face. And at this point, even M'tri's
lifemate is trying to mute rumbles of his own. Unsuccessfully.

This calls for Kassi to skate briskly towards the edge of the Lake, where
she can scoop up snow, pack it quickly, and--whoosh!--attempt, at least, to
thwap M'tri soundly with it. "Just what's wrong with m'nose?" she demands.
"Or m'looks? I'm a positively *gorgeous* man. Besides. If'n I'm so hideous,
why'd you marry me?"

M'tri, without missing a beat, even after being snowball clobbered,
responds through laughter, "Because of the size of other things!"

Kassima splutters. Oh, yes, she does. But what man would splutter? Not
many; so she makes an effort to get ahold of herself and preen instead,
slightly mollified. "At least you admit *that*."

M'tri wipes the snow off his jacket and then finally seems to think the
better of sitting on the cold drift of snow - he rises to his feet, wipes
at the rear of his pants and then turns to give Kassi a view. "Did I get it
all?" he asks. Insert seductive hip wiggle. And then a wink, for good
measure - back to playing seductress, he is. That's the way to fix
relationship problems.

Kassima has to take a moment to duck her head and stifle the impulse to
chortle. That wouldn't go with the role she's playing. But she still looks
more merry than miffed as she dutifully studies the view presented, and
finally she says, with a sigh, "Alas, I can't offer t'brush off what you
didn't without risking your mistress's wrath. And you'd probably enjoy
watching her and me fight far too much, so I just can't allow it t'happen."

"Y'sure?" M'tri ventures, with yet another wiggle. He's watching her
expression carefully, waiting for her to just laugh and get it done with.
"Ah, Lani won't care. C'monnnn Kassi." Wiggle. Eyebrow waggle. Not to
mention his shoulders are shaking from his own laughter.

Determined not to be the first one to crack, Kassi first bites her lip and
then presses her mouth into a thin line as M'tri takes to shaking his
bon-bon in earnest. It takes awhile before she can manage to say anything
without snickering, time which she uses to skate nonchalantly closer--as if
she's considering the prospect after all. "I don't know, Trii," she tells
him, trying to sound dubious instead of hilariously amused. "You remember
our chemistry, darling. If'n I touched your rump t'brush off the snow, why,
I'm sure we'd both be so drawn into tempestuous passion that we'd be
scandalizing the dragons right here in the snow. That'd never do."

M'tri can't speak. It's very obvious from the look on his face. So,
instead, he just wiggles his eyebrows, bites his tongue, and then looks
interestedly at the snow. Into which he just falls, losing thier battle.

Kassima manages to wait until he's fallen to double over in laughter,
holding her sides and avoiding a similar fall by crouching in the snow just
a step or two away from the ice. "Dearheart," she wheezes at length through
her cackles, "I hate t'be breaking it to you, but I'm nay patting snow off
*that*, either."

If M'tri was doubled in the beginning, he's tripled now, clutching his side
and rolling, trying to get out a disappointed, "Aww!" but losing it with
each gasp and laugh he manages. Finally he settles on his stomach, with his
face pillowed in one arm, just giggling. His complaint through it is
simple: "I think my tears are frozen."

"I knew you'd be disappointed," Kassi snickers, bracing herself with a
gloved hand as her mirth makes her teeter again. "Just... just try t'think
of it this way. If'n we did let ourselves be consumed by the flames of lust
in the snow, we'd get pneumonia and die, sweetheart, and our dragons would
have t'be *explaining* it t'people. I can only imagine Daikoth's disgust."
A few more sounds suspiciously like giggles, then, "Well, I could probably
brush *those* off for you. But you'd better do it yourself. Can't be too
careful."

M'tri assures, "He's so far beyond disgust right now." And it shows, with
one brilliant wing flared and his head tucked far beneath it. His sides
shake with his laughter. Lifting his head to look at Kassi, M'tri just
breaks into giggles again, rubbing his sleeve against his face and still
giggling. He takes a couple tries before he sits upright properly.

Lysseth at this point seems to find Daikoth more worthy of snickering at
than those freaks they call riders. If she could point as well as laugh,
you can bet she would. "I win!" Kassi sings out. "I win! I declare victory!
Oh, Faranth, I can't believe you. Me. Either of us. And I can't believe
you're getting your rump coated in snow *again*. Won't work a second time
either."

M'tri gasps, "You, Kassi, are a terrible person. Crowing victory over me
when I can hardly breathe!" A look a Lysseth threatens to break him down
again. Daikoth, however, pulls his head from his wing and looks very
disgruntled. Then very frustrated with his rider. "I'm not embarassing
anyone but myself!" Trii protests aloud.

"I'm a *greenrider*, M'tri. And your Wingleader. Did you really expect
otherwise?" Kassi gives him a fiendish grin before cracking up anew and
assuring Daikoth, "He isn't, he isn't! Don't worry. We know full well his
lunacy is nay reflection on you, and that if'n you had your way he'd be...
well, wearing something much sparklier, for one thing."

M'tri chokes, covers his face with his hat, and shakes his head.
"Terrible," he reiterates, for lack of anything worth saying.

Kassima just beams as much as if he'd paid her a very high compliment. "You
know me so well!" she enthuses. "Mayhaps there's hope for our marriage
after all, m'dear one. Though I must say, there's always *some* hope so
long as you wear that hat. Mrrowr." Pause. "I can't believe I just said that."

M'tri does stop his laughter long enough to blink at her a few times. "My
hat is holding this marraige together?" He climbs to his feet, and makes a
show of stomping to Daikoth, where he doesn't quite recieve the consolation
he's looking for. He mock sobs on the dragon, then looks over his shoulder.
"I knew this was a big joke!" he sobs.

"Well, what d'you expect?" Kassi wails, attempting to look very plaintive
and hurt and pathetic where she still crouches in the snow. Awww. Big, sad
greenrider eyes. "You don't want me anymore! I don't ride a bronze and I
can't change that, so a'*course* I have t'focus on your hat. I need
something t'give me hope." Hopefully, "Plus, you're dead sexy in it? Does
that help?"

"I'm dead sexy in anything. I'm dead sexy in /nothing/!" M'tri tries to
look lugubrious again, but when his dragon swiftly drags the supporting
forepaw away, the young man stumbles instead and looks highly offended.
"I'm not trying to cuddle you, you manly man, I'm looking for a bit of
support."

Kassima looks confused, as well she might, as to which manly man is so
indicated. Only briefly, though. She's soon snickering. "M'tri, please tell
me you aren't cheating with *Daikoth* now; that'd really be just too much,"
and indeed the very idea makes her double over all over again. Lysseth
however looks more disturbed. Who can blame her? "You are sexy, wife, you
really are. Your problem is that you know it."

"Yes, that's it. I'm cheating on my dragon, the one that is always there
for me, when my bronzers are out being studs and your abusing me and Lani's
ignoring me. Not that Lani's ever ignored me, but it's always good to plan
ahead." Daikoth, as appalled as he might have been moments earlier, takes
another step back and looks in utterly disappointed in his choice of rider.
He even manages to look long suffering for the audience's sake.

"Nay cheating *on*. Cheating *with*," Kassi helpfully supplies, lest the
true horror of the accusation be lost. "Your bronzeriders are cheating on
you, too? Oh, poor thing! You really do have a bad lot. Poor baby. See, I
can be less abusive, if'n I want t'be. When you aren't deriding
m'masculinity." Lysseth manages to stop chortling to herself long
enough--barely--to try and look at least marginally sympathetic to
Daikoth's plight.

Daikoth needs no sympathy. The blue dragon huffs and puffs and...well,
can't find anything to blow down. He instead turns his nose up snobbishly,
like a spoiled canine will to something it doesn't want to eat. He needs no
green sympathy! Especially if she's not going to melt into a puddle when he
poses around her. M'tri looks at Kassi, accusing, "Lookit what you did! You
broke my /dragon/."

Awww. Well, Lysseth still doesn't seem particularly inclined to melt, but
she can warble? It's even a fairly sweet warble as Lysseth-warbles go. If
one paid attention to the twitch of her tail one might be able to tell
she's still amused, but otherwise she does a decent job of concealing it.
"I did nay!" Kassima protests, shaking her head vigorously. "How did *I*
break him? You're the one cuddling him!"

"That wasn't cuddling! If I wanted to cuddle I'd be somewhere else
entirely." Where? Leave that to the imagination. "You broke him because you
drove me to seek sympathy with him. Faranth forbid that in the first place.
Cuddling is so undignified."

Kassima considers for at least two moments before finally giving in and
asking, "Just where would you be, t'cuddle your dragon?" Apparently she'd
rather let his imagination do the work on that one. "Oh, that is just so
nay right. I deny responsibility. You could've sought sympathy with me! Or
Lysseth! Or your hat!"

M'tri stares at her, looks at Lysseth, and then says, "Lysseth doesn't seem
like a comforting sort. And you," and this he accuses, shaking his head,
"you wouldn't even pat my rump, let alone console me!" Pause. "That came
out wrong."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima hearby adds 'You wouldn't even pat my rump, let alone
console me!' to the Telgar quote collection. Thank you, M'tri. ;)

Telgar Weyr> V'lano splutters.

Telgar Weyr> M'tri says, "For a moment I had "You won't even wipe my rump,"
but that was worse."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "...But, let me just note, every bit as true."

"Lysseth can be comforting. But I don't know that she'd have comforted you
because I like your hat," Kassima is forced to admit. "She tends t'save it
for less insane problems. And... and I just don't know what t'say t'that,
m'darling, beyond that it disturbs me nay end that you went t'Daikoth for
consolation with *that* idea of what consolation should involve."

Daikoth seems to have finally had enough. With the same air as a very
embarassed parent, the dragon looks at his rider, then demandingly lowers
his head and neck, offers his leg, and grunts. "Oh...okay...I see." M'tri
looks at Kassi and stage-whispers, "I'm in trouble." It takes a few deep
breaths before he's steady enough to vault himself onto Daikoth's neck,
even with help of the straps. And, once astride, Daikoth only gives the
bluerider time to say, "I'll let you back to your skating. And terrible
singing. Apparently I need to be punished. And get your mind out of the
gutter, not punished like that." And that's all, before Daikoth launches
into the air, not even bothering to trumpet a farewell in his embarassment.

M'tri swings onto Daikoth's neck with the help of a proffered foreleg.

Daikoth takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to carry him
aloft.