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Star-Crossed Riders


Date:  January 15, 2005
Places:  High Reaches Weyr's Western Bowl and Galleries
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:  Although Kassima's timing in visiting V'lano is bad 
when it comes to actually catching the bronzerider, it's good for 
committing double-suicide with M'rek out of pain for their never-to-
be-consummated lust!  Or, you know, not. ;)  Wild teasing with M'rek 
and catching up with Emilly are a prelude to Kassi's chat with a few 
more local riders in the Galleries.

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The Log:

You wing down to a quick landing on the ground.

You slide off of Lysseth's neck to land beside her easily. She rumbles,
cocking her head down at you, and you rub her eyeridges gratefully.

Sionath warbles warmly as Lysseth lands and dips her nose in greeting to
the Telgari green.

M'rek is making progress across the bowl when that genetics blessed lass
from Telgar flies in on that green he recognizes from the ground. M'rek
watches the dragons path and then without any obvious consideration turns
the path of his boots to meet up with the female rider, "Kassi my love, how
are you? I'd hope you'd come to see me, but then I don't think I could
stand the disappointment if you haven't."

Dasmareth lifts her head and warbles a greeting, though she follows it
quick with a yawn as she coils herself into a smaller ball of green hide
and resumes napping.

Kassima swings down from Lysseth's neck and lands with something of a
bounce, her expression one of general good cheer; not that this is exactly
an anomaly, when she's visiting High Reaches. "Aye, aye, I know he's a
clever bronze and one of discernment," she mumurs under her breath, casting
a look up to her lifemate that's suspiciously like an eye-roll. "Could you
spend a little less time finding out how glorious he is and a little more
time finding out whether his rider's around? I swear. *Every time*--"
There's amusement in it, though. And enough amusement in Lysseth's rumble
to suggest that she may well do the rhapsodizing that frustrates her rider
so--well, at least some small part of it--as part of their perpetual game.
Whatever further argument might have ensued is put to a stop by M'rek's
address, fortunately enough for both parties. "M'rek, m'darling," she
laughs, "I'd hate t'have t'be breaking your heart, since surely your death
of grief would break mine. 'Tis the usual suspect I'm here t'be seeing, but
you know you're always a joy t'my eyes and, yea verily, m'very soul."
Lysseth rumbles greetings meanwhile to the greens who've greeted her, but
is swift after to give them a long-suffering look: behold her rider,
utterly full of it.

"Bah." Is M'rek's most eloquent rejoiner, "Him. Faranth's toes, Kassi, give
him up and run away with me to a far off island populated only by strong
drinks and scant swimsuits. I'll make it worth your while, at least until
m'passed out from loving you and then you can rifle my pockets for marks
and leave me there in the sand to a third degree sunburn. With a little
forthought you could even mark y'name on my forehead in ink and then when
it washed off, all would know who was t'be paying my tab, wherever I went
for sevendays on end." He draws a breath and then waves a hand towards the
hatching galleries, "Or. You could just go find that lad of yours in there."

"Whoever told you m'retirement plan? Ah, but I'm nay ready yet, t'retire
t'my island of loincloth-clad bronzeriders who'll do naught but serve
m'every whim, from there t'plan and complete the conquest of all Pern."
Kassima gives a slow, sad headshake. "Mayhaps in a few Turns more, dearest
one, if'n you can stand the agony of waiting. Although this passing out and
rifling thing does sound sorely tempting. Save one thing: 'twould nay be
m'name, but the words, 'I'm Paying the Tab' 'twould mark on such a head as
yours, for even if'n 'twere nay the one benefitting from such a message,
'twould entertain me greatly t'think of you cursed t'pay for the booze of
others all your days. In there?" She brightens, eyes flicking automatically
towards the Galleries. "You're far more helpful than m'dragon. Thankee; I
shall. Were you headed that way?"

Emilly comes out of the entrance to the hatching grounds.

Emilly crosses the Bowl at a goodly pace, face alight. "Kassi!" she calls
over before she arrives. M'rek catches her eye too and her smile widens
fractionally. "And M'rek. Heya!"

M'rek laughs outright and slides his hands out of his pockets before he
slants a grin at this greenrider and then mocks an arrow plunging into his
heart with the motion of those hands that stay fixed where the arrow's
shaft would protrude, "Farewell love and all thy pains forever, thy tangled
hooks shall tangle me no more." And then he staggers, just to give it that
extra bit of melodrama. "I'd be forced to beg my booze from passerbys or to
just drink in those bars where they've never know a Harper's loving touch."
And there's a tease in there for the Telgari even if he seems to be
speaking of illiteracy. "Well. I guess I could come along if I really
wanted to have my heart ground into the stone of the hatching galleries
while I watch you put the best turns of my life to waste. But. I think I'll
save that delightful agony for another night. I won't keep you from him any
longer." And he makes a sweeping bow before he greets the arrival, "And
Ems. Good to see you, as always."

Kassima turns automatically at the sound of her name called by a familiar
voice. "Emilly!" she answers as brightly, grinning. "Shells, t'catch all
three of you--hopefully--in one visit, that's luck. 'Twas just about t'head
in there t'see about finding Vel. How're you? All's well?" Of course, she
can't miss such a performance as that--she looks back towards M'rek when he
laughs, for that generally bodes something amusing, and greets his 'death'
with far more laughter than she'd likely greet the real thing. "Oh! Oh!
This is where I should commit suicide in anguish, having come t'realize
that you were m'true love all along, isn't it? Alas!" She doesn't draw a
real dagger, but pantomimes the stabbing of herself with one; even a slight
swoon, which Lysseth regards with nothing short of disgust. "There *exist*
bars that haven't known a Harper's loving touch?" she wonders, chortling
for all that her ears take on more than a touch of red. "Oh, m'darling. So
grieved I am t'cause you such pain. Although we both know 'tis him you
really long for, and all this is but a show, t'conceal the truth of your
love."

R'dus walks out of the lower caverns.

Emilly laughs for the teasing banter, head shaking a little. "You two ..."
she admonishes with a wag of one finger, before hands slide into pockets.
"Good to see you here again Kassi," she welcomes the greenrider. "They've
just about all processed in," her head jerks towards the Hatching Ground.
"Vel included. Haven't had much chance to talk to him lately, but he seems
to be handling this whole thing really well. As for me ... not too busy ...
not too idle's what I've been saying. Much weavering going on between
duties for me."

M'rek gives Kassima a look that would be coy if it were coming from almost
anyone else, but from This One and to Her, it's clearly all mischief.
Laughter abounds for Kassi's own star crossed demise, "Alas, my love, you
were too hot to perish so soon." And then his laughter reaches that
snorting phase and M'rek's own ears turn red, with these two blushing there
must be a world ending comet fast approaching. "Aye, Kassi my dearly
departed, tis true. I do harbor the most scadalous longing for him, and all
of it, everything, is but a show to distract others from the knowing of my
hearts true desire. Including him. For. Would melt his brain, I'm afraid.
Or. Something." And his eyes blink now, wide as if in all innocence before
he's smilling to Emilly. "Aye." and a smirk, "I'm sure there's not much
that V'lano couldn't handle. Come to think of it, maybe even me."

R'dus mosies along paying no mind to anything in particular as he crosses
the bowl toward the gallery or something. Finding a stone along the way he
boots it ahead of himself.

R'dus meanders north into the tunnel to the hatching grounds.

Emilly blinks from rider to rider, as most of that flies right over her
head like a fair of firelizards, but her expression remains good-natured,
particularly since it all seems to be in good fun. "Oh? He could? Really?
Huh. You'll have to tell Gerome to add him to the list maybe, for that
fight thing I've been hearing about." Poor clueless Em. "So, M'rek, if
you're not going to go egg ... or Vel-ogling with Kassi, might I steal you
away for a bit of a walk? Maybe even for that drink you promised?"

Kassima fixes guileless, innocent eyes on Emilly. A shame she can't keep
the corners of her mouth from twitching upwards; it might be a
semi-effective ploy, otherwise. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean.
Always a pleasure t'be here, Em... Candidates, processed?" She squints
towards the Galleries. "Egg-touching, then? Mayhaps m'timing is off. Aye,
though, methinks he's bearing up well." For some reason, there's a certain
wryness to her smile. "As best one can. Nay too busy but nay too idle,
that's the best of the worlds. Nay that 'twould often say nay to a little
more idle m'self." Accompanied by a waggle of brows that segues nicely into
the glance of steamy longing she tries to give That Bronzerider, but
doesn't succeed, because steamy longing and mirth do not pair so very well
as that. "Which is why we could never be together, m'darling. Combining the
hotness of you with that of me would set all Pern ablaze and melt the very
Sands those eggs lie upon. Methinks you do underestimate his brain,
however. I vote you present your feelings t'him and see. You never know
until you try. And who knows? If'n he harbors a similar secret lust for
you--" She has to pause to duck her head and snicker for a moment before
she can get out the rest, "Then mayhaps we can dare the world's demise, and
you and he and I could make," snicker, snicker, "a glorious night of it. Or
something. Shells, we're awful people. I'm headed in. See you both later,
then, if'n you don't wish t'go and declare your love now?"

M'rek leans forward a little bit as he laughs and then he looks over at
Emilly and grins, "That fight thing. Aye. A drink, Em's would be just the
thing to drown my poor heart that's been broken so many times by unrequited
love of That One that the liquor makes a most glorious display, trickling
down the rocks." Back to Kassi he winks at her, his eyes bright as they
dance around such intrigues. "Aye, tis true. Just so long as you remember
that this coming weekend's mine with the child of our /other/ shocking love
triangle." And he grins, "A'course he does. In my world, everyone harbors a
secret lust for me. Why else do you think I even peel myself up off the
floor in the morning? Makes brushing m'teeth all worthwhile. Well. He
already must know, for he's hardly daft, and I do tend to wear my fragile
heart upon my sleeve. If only he /were/ daft, maybe then my lust could fade
into something more manageable like ravenous desire." And there's more
laughter, "Ah. Kassi. Aye, we're awful indeed." Pause, "Give V'lano a big
kiss for me. And. Maybe I'll give him strange looks later on."

There's another rather mystifie look from Emilly for this next exchange and
her head's shaking again. "It's a wonder the two of you haven't broken half
the hearts on Pern. Definitely hope to catch up with you more later Kassi
..." She grins M'rek's way though and nods. "Boll then? Or ..."

In the sky directly above, Semirath banks and lands neatly on the ground.

"Nay unrequited, sweet balm of m'heart," Kassi nearly croons, managing to
fight off laughter long enough to do so. "Only chaste, for now, so that we
must both live in exquisite torment until such day that passion overcomes
us, or... something. Ah! You greedy thing, you had him *last* sevenday. But
'twill grant it t'you, in pity for your agonies, if'n only you promise
t'dream of me tonight and wake weeping tears for what can nay yet be."
Emilly just gets a wink, poor woman, and a pseudo-explanation of, "More fun
t'break his than any of those others. But a'course 'twill catch up with
you. And a'course 'twill kiss him for you, M'rek, should he allow it, and
kiss him a few more times for m'self, which I say just t'make you
seethingly jealous." And with that and a blown kiss for the bronzerider,
she exits before suppressed laughter can make her explode.

You stride through the tunnel, emerging in an enormous cavern. You walk up
a short flight of steps into the galleries.

On the sands, Lowly, Amarie says to Satiet in return, "I think V'lano has
more sense than to lick an egg." She glances at the bronzerider, her gaze
lingering perhaps a tad too long and her face is unreadable other than a
slight narrowing of eyes that might indicate a curiosity about him. She
looks back at Satiet and runs her hand along the fog egg asking, "Can you
feel the grooves in this one? It's almost sharp."

Lysseth> Caritha vaults down Semirath's side to the ground, the dragon's
sparkling eyes watching closely.

Lysseth> Caritha offers up a nod of greeting to anyone who might be nearby
as Semirath lands by the hatching grounds entrance. She hurries up the
steps in that direction without further ado.

Caritha strolls up into the stands from the entrance to the bowl.

On the sands, Lesra is done with her pretty tan and tawny colored Egg. She
wanders over to where Heuwet is Touching, yawning slightly. "Done?" She asks.

R'dus can't help himself. When Amilin gives him a curious glance he can't
help but to stick his tongue out at her then chuckle quietly from his
gallery-top perch.

On the sands, Linnea misses the subtleties of Satiet's response, and still
moved by the tenderness of the Satiet with the eggs, she and her complacent
expression move unknowingly onward to an egg awash in ambers and coppers.
As her hands reach toward it, so do Abren's on the opposite side, and the
two smile at each other over its top. "It looks like its moving," he
whispers, his voice cracking. Linnea nods, and the two share a wordless
moment in contact with the egg.

On the sands, "I'd question his sensibilities," Satiet returns lowly. "He's
not enough sense not to string a girl along at least." But from the way she
speaks, it's hardly herself she's talking about. Instead, she also turns to
scrutinize the bronzerider before turning back to Amarie with a slanted
smirk, "He's got a loose control of his temper, you know." But she fails to
elaborate, instead reaching over to grace the egg with the tips of her
fingers again. The index finger straightens, the rest curling under in a
pointing gesture, to follow along one particular raised design. "You can
hardly tell they have anything special at all from the galleries. But they
feel different."

The sound of helpless, muffled laughter suspiciously akin to giggling
heralds Kassi's entrance, which she makes with head ducked in a futile
attempt to hide her mirth. It takes her a moment of lurking in the back of
the Galleries before she regains some semblance of composure, and picks her
way down the tiers until she finds a place fairly near the Sands
themselves. "Duties to the 'Reaches and her queens," she calls as she goes,
amiable and pleasant both.

Lysseth> M'rek looks at Emilly with feigned surprise, "I've done my part, I
can't help it that Kassi has chosen the literate half. Luck of the draw."
Then a warmer smile, "Boll. Haven't been drinking at Boll since..yesterday.
I'm in the mood." then he smirks at Kassi once more, "Chaste. Ah. How my
most profound loves... Hmm. I can't even get that one out it's such a lie."
And he laughs some more, "See you later, Kassi." And it's probably good the
Telgari greenrider leaves because, clearly, M'rek could go on all night and
day. He turns back to Emilly and gets himself together a little, "Boll then?"

On the sands, "V'lano spends enough time out here with the eggs that you
shouldn't overestimate how much sense he has," the bronzerider rumbles,
though normally one would assume such vocalization typically should come
from the beast towering over him. Volath, for his part, stretches his neck
low, inspecting the raven-haired candidate from a meter away with a
faceted, multi-greened eye. After a moment, he exhales sharply, wings
unsettling from his sides and forming loose awnings over his ribcages,
catching starlight.

Caritha follows in shortly after Kassima, though not having accompanied
her. She offers up a wave to those she spots, "R'dus, Amilin, Kassima." She
heads on over towards wherever S'rist is seated, offering up a more persona
greeting and a hug, "Hi daddy."

On the sands, "Yes they do," Amarie's voice is slightly far off, as if
she's thinking of something other than the egg. She glances over at V'lano
as he speaks in the third person. "Hmmmm," She lifts her head, tilting it
upward at Volath. Finally she leaves the foggy egg, moving on to another
saying, "What do you think of this so far Satiet?"

Lysseth> Emilly watches Kassi wander off, fond smile on her face, then
gives M'rek another quizzical look before nodding. "Mm - though it might be
rainy," she notes thoughtfully. "Since yesterday huh? I'd never be able to
keep up with your drink count in a hundred Turns M'rek. Right. See you
there!" She waves jauntily, and trots over to waiting Sionath.

Lysseth> Emilly hops up onto Sionath's back, using herforeleg as a step.

Lysseth> Sionath shifts slightly as her rider mounts.

S'rist turns from where he's sitting not too far from Amilin, as he was
chatting with her about egg betting, giving Caritha a hug, "Hi precious,
come to see the candidates out amongst the eggs too?"

The Weyrleader then adds a grin and a wave towards Kassima, "'reaches duty
to Telgar, rider."

Amilin makes a face at R'dus in return. One's never too old to make faces
at some people after all. So much for the image of maturity. Course, she
calls out then, "Reaches duties to Telgar. Heyla Kassima. Heard you were
here." Caritha she dives a nod to, then digs in her belt pouch before
adding a quick, "Caritha. Think fast." A mark piece is flicked through the
air and sent her way as soon as the younger rider is looking.

Lysseth> M'rek chuckles and waves before he trots across the bowl. Faranth
would roll over if Lord Ulf actually got up and went to the bronzerider for
a change.

Lysseth> M'rek strides towards the eastern side of the bowl.

On the sands, Linnea and Abren rise almost as one, share a quiet whisper
about the sounds of the egg and the marvels hidden on its rough shell, and
perhaps also about the clutchpapa since their eyes mutually flick that
direction, then the two part ways, the thin lad moving toward the
half-buried egg, and the girl with the high forehead first marking Satiet
and Amarie's location, then moving toward an egg that might present a quiet
shelter from a storm in the clearing of its shades of blue from darker to
lighter.

Lysseth> In the sky directly above, Sionath springs powerfully into the sky
from the ground below.

On the sands, "It's dangerous," the reply is sent towards Amarie, though
just what is dangerous is questionable - whether it be the dragon suddenly
staring at her, the rider nearby, or the egg itself. Satiet's voice lifts
though in explanation, tearing her fear-touched eyes away from the
unsettled bronze, "The fog, doesn't help much when you're out at sea.
Parents have glow lights, but they rarely help much further than as far as
you can reach out with your hands." She glances at the shell underneath her
fingers, "The egg I mean, this whole thing?" A sniff and a toss of her dark
hair later, she's back to being herself in stance, but not in voice, "It's
nothing special." But the awed-touch in her voice betrays that as an
obvious lie. Silently thoughtful, she pads after Amarie and the next egg
the once assistant headwoman decides on. Lesra and Heuwet receive passing
looks.

R'dus offers a simple nod to the newly arrived greenriders in turn as they
pass by, refraining from outright laughing at the face Amilin produces. He
shakes his head a couple times then goes back to just being an observer.

On the sands, A slow stirring of the golden Lhiannonth captures Volath's
attention, causing a sudden turning of sinuous neck. The queen resettles
after a moment, stroking her tail closer to the eggs in a curling,
protective motion, and is then quiet, but the bronze remains unsettled, his
throat beginning a dry warning of vibrato. "All right," V'lano calls out,
unleaning from his beast's forehaunch to trot the few paces toward the
eggs. "Everyone come on back toward the galleries. Been a long night
anyway, and time to let the dragons have some quiet before they get too
antsy."

Kassima casts a last look over her shoulder towards the Bowl, gives a last
snicker, before nodding a greeting back to the next greenrider to arrive.
"Evening, Caritha; Weyrleader; Amilin," each in turn, with a flashed smile.
"Ach. The dragons have been tattling? I don't even *want* t'know what they
might've said, given givens. I do nay think there ever was a more
incorrigible man." R'dus is less familiar, so she settles for a cordial nod
to him. She sinks into the seat she's chosen and turns her eyes to scanning
the Sands, soon enough spotting her quarry and grinning for it, but she
elects to give no distracting greeting beyond a wave to the proud bronze sire.

On the sands, Lesra turns, stretching and yawning, obeidiently making her
way up the steps into the galleries. "'Lo, Caritha. Reaches' duties to
you," she says politely to Kassima, stretching again. "If you'll excuse me,
please, I'm all for my bed." She gathers her sweaters off the bench,
putting them on wearily before heading in the direction of the Bowl.

On the sands, Lesra heads up a short flight of steps to the galleries.

Caritha is more than a bit startled by Amilin's words, not reallyu knowing
which way to look. But instinctively, as she seems something flying through
the air in her direction, she reaches out her hands to catch it... or to at
least protect herself - for she'd not gone and made note of Dasmareth's
colour recently. Looking at the mark piece in her hand, she looks back at
Amilin, a puzzled expression on her face "What's this for?" She then grins,
"Not that I'd ever turn down a mark but I'm not known for taking bets or
anything on the hatching like some people..." and with this a wink is given
over to Kassima"

Lesra walks down a short flight of steps and heads out through the entrance
to the bowl.

On the sands, "Sure it is. It's something special because there is life in
there, somewhere," Amarie grins at Satiet and then backs away from the eggs
carefully. As she makes her way off the sand, she pauses near V'lano and
says something to him that only he could hear, as she whispers to him.

Amilin gives R'dus a wink before she looks up to Kassi, "They must have
been, but it was Emilly that told me you were here. Das is too busy taking
a nap." Ami's never been one to throw things at people no matter how shiny,
or not, Das might be. "We bet about R'sel. You and Sria won, he didn't faint."

On the sands, Linnea's fingers skim another egg as she moves toward the
galleries, her feet sliding about in the sand. Quickly she draws them back,
not wanting to displease the starlight-glinting bronze or his sleeping
partner in this process of egg-making. She sucks in a quick breath, moving
faster now and sweating across her broad forehead in her efforts to clear
the sands promptly. "That was amazing," she murmurs, finally clear of the
sands. Turning to face the bronze dragon and his rider, she calls a "Thank
you for letting us come out to see them" then hushes, lest she disturb
Amarie's words with V'lano.

On the sands, The gold's stirring and the subsequent indication to leave
the sands, is all Satiet needs to remove her hands from an egg and give the
dragon parents a wide berth. An extremely wide berth. There's no hesitation
from the dark-haired girl to step back towards the stairs, leaving little
heel indentations that get filled over in the sands. "Are you coming or
not?" she calls over to Linnea and Amarie. The pile of coats is dug
through, the thin film of perspiration that was unnoticed until now wiped
off her forehead. It's only then she notices the stand watchers again, and
in particular one Kassima. A vague, blurred attempt of a smile is offered
the Telgari greenrider - smug knowledge mixed with still unallayed fear
from the sands. "Good night, ma'ams, sirs," is all that's offered vocally,
before she skitters down the stairs to the bowl.

On the sands, Satiet heads up a short flight of steps to the galleries.

On the sands, Linnea heads up a short flight of steps to the galleries.

On the sands, The bronzerider grins and bends to put his ear down for
Amarie's secret, but once she's done telling murmurs, "Come on, we're being
a nuisance to -himself-" - and leads the way toward the galleries,
grinning. Volath seems largely distracted by the candidates until they get
their sturdily-shod feet off of his sands, thank you, though once they've
gone and V'lano's herding them away from the rear, the bronze does tilt his
head curiously and seem to eye the galleries, or someone in them. Not long
after, however, he refolds his wings and sprawls long and slowly on the
warm sands, stretching his belly out for sleep.

Satiet walks down a short flight of steps and heads out through the
entrance to the bowl.

On the sands, Amarie corrects, "You're being a nuisance. I'm being
supportive of him." She lets the light teasing go, but when she looks up at
V'lano there's a bit of worry in her eyes, the kind only a friend has for
another friend. Then she's off ahead of him, making her way across the
sands and out.

Kassima bobs her head to the Candidate as she passes through, politely
enough; Caritha gets a broad grin. "More's the pity mayhaps--but some
gamble or other's been profitable for you regardless, by the sound." Her
green eyes flick between the two greenriders, momentarily curious. "Ah!
Aye, Em, makes sense. Caught her in the Bowl for a moment, though nay for
long since 'twas headed back in here and methinks she and M'rek have gone
for a drink. Looks as if'n I missed most of the show...." Satiet gets her
usual cordial inclination of the head and nothing else.

On the sands, Amarie heads up a short flight of steps to the galleries.

On the sands, V'lano heads up a short flight of steps to the galleries.

Caritha looks at the piece in her hand and then grins, "That's true, we did
bet. So what was his reaction to the wonderful news then?" She pockets the
piece quickly as she nods greetings to the candidates emerging up from the
sands, a tad disappointed that they're already leaving. She grins at
Kassima then, "Maybe I ought to try it more often then. Whose taking bets
on this hatching?"

S'rist raises an eyebrow, "What news is this that was going to have R'sel
fainting anyways? Sounds like it was something rather shocking."

Linnea pauses in the galleries to take up her coat, and to copy the dance
of removing a sweat layer from her forehead. "Sirs, ma'ams," she greets,
her face lit from the warmth of the sands and the experience of feeling
little warm eggs just beyond.

By the time he gets into the galleries, V'lano's fairly dragging his feet,
the hand that rubbed his temple before cradling his forehead against a
posture of pure headache now. "Somehow that was easier the last time I did
it," he mutters to his boots, but pauses to look up after Linnea's
greeting. Which he echoes, belatedly, with one of his own. "Telgar's
duties, all." Pause. "Except you." That last bit was with a weary grin,
toward the other Telgari.

"She and M'rek?" Ami replies as she gives Kassi a curious glance, "Huh. She
said she was going out there to see you. Well, no matter." She smiles then
to both Caritha and S'rist. "Not our news to spread, exactly. But I gather
it was much like mine and Sria's to it, Caritha. I shouldn't have taken the
bet, but..."

Amarie lifts a hand to wave at Caritha and Kassima as she passes by the
two. However she doesn't speak, instead going to collect her fur lined coat
and put it on. After buttoning it up she heads out into the cold weather to
go back to the barracks.

Amarie walks down a short flight of steps and heads out through the
entrance to the bowl.

Despite not knowing her well, Kassima gives Linnea a warm smile that the
others who passed through didn't get; like as not, it's reaction to that
light on her face. "G'deve, Candidate. It looks as if'n you enjoyed your
experience?" Ah, but the magical song of potential marks is calling to her
from Caritha's direction, and her gaze soon darts thataway. "I am, for one,
though hardly officially. Methinks she was, Amilin, but M'rek was out there
and 'twas headed inside, so...." The reason for that approaches even now,
and he too gets a warm smile, though the warmth is of a more familiar
nature, and shaded after a moment with concern. "Always leaving me out,"
she teases him. "Heyla, Vel... shells. You look beat. Didn't pick the best
time for visiting, did I?"

R'dus has learned well from his wingleader. He observes. If he had a mug
o'cider....

Linnea's coat on and fastened up once more, she now is ready to descend the
other direction toward the bowl. Looking rather uncomfortably bundled up,
she dips her head and, stiffly, her upper body, toward the riders
assmebled, adding a smile for the familiar-looking Telgari greenrider.
"Yes'm. It was something special, to be sure. I can't wait to write home
about it!" A bump from behind by Heuwet makes her realize the rest have
gone ahead, and she nods again, then follows the other candidates back
toward the barracks, Lacey and Heuwet at her heels. "Did you see how big he
was?" "Yeah, I thought he'd eat Satiet in one bite..." So trailing off in
to the distance, the candidate formation dissipates.

Caritha looked as though she was about to tell her father the answer to his
question, but Amilin's comment causes her to close her mouth without
speaking. She nods to the greenrider and then smiles at her father, "Just
good news, very very good news, thats all. You don't need to worry about
it." She looks back at Kassima then, one hand in the pocket where she'd
recently placed the mark, "I can't imagine that anything on the hatching is
as sure a bet as the one Amilin made however."

Linnea walks down a short flight of steps and heads out through the
entrance to the bowl.

S'rist just looks from one green rider to another, then he chuckles, "Well,
I won't worry too much about it then, as if it was something I needed to
know, someone would tell me."

"Ahh. This makes sense, of course." Ami says in reply to Kassima, then
glances from her to V'lano with a smile, "It wasn't -that- sure a bet, even
if I shouldn't have made it." She tells Caritha, "He did pass out cold when
his daughter was born. Heard it from two witnesses and he admitted it as
well, after a bit of ribbing of course."

"Not intentionally," V'lano grins at Kassima, stepping near her to reach
for her hand if she'll let him, just to squeeze it in his own sands-warmed
palms before letting it go again. He turns a smile after the backs of the
last of the departing candidates, shaking his head at something he heard
drifting back from their chatter. "But you don't want to go down and touch
eggs, Kassi. I doubt Lysseth would like it much." He tries to look amusing
for a moment, but can't help reaching up to rub at his temple again, and
settles for a sigh. "You'll have to excuse me. I need to lie down a little
bit. Come by later, if you want? - Good evening, sir," that last for S'rist
with a wan smile the Weyrleader's way, and then, "Caritha, Amilin. Sir."
Too weary even to check in for R'dus' name, V'lano trods toward the bowl.

V'lano walks down a short flight of steps and heads out through the
entrance to the bowl.

Kassima admits readily enough, "Hatching bets are never sure bets, unless
you find someone fool enough t'bet on a gold egg in a brown-sired clutch. I
don't think I'd feel right taking such a bet. Nay challenge or sport in it.
Did the touching go well?" She asks this of the Galleries in general before
focusing on the bronzerider, willingly giving her hand and curling her
fingers to hug his. "Oh, she might. She's always wanted me t'Impress a
bronze for her t'curl up with and-or torment daily," she teases, before
answering the question of whether she'll come by with a simple nod and
smile, and watching after him as he departs. "He seems tired... who passed
out?"

Caritha rolls her eyes at this comment of Amilin's, "Thats a completely
different thing, I mean there is blood and stuff." Okay, so its a reach to
assume that anything that makes her ill would affect everyone else but
still, "There is no way he was going to be anything but delighted with the
news since Jos said its certainly his." She grins back at Kassima,
"Semirath is in agreement with Lysseth about finding a bronze. You'd think
the greens would have a abit more sense and pick something closer to their
own size. She was plenty insulted by Liorth's subsequent lack of attentions
after catching her; she was never much of a fan of browns before and he's
sullied their image further I do believe." This is said accompanied by a
wink up in R'dus' direction.

R'dus hasn't passed out, nope. And at the remark made by Caritha regarding
Liorth he begins to chuckle...that's all.

"R'sel. When Roselle was born." She tells Kassima then she chuckles, "I was
thinking he'd be more like shocked into fainting, really, Caritha. That Jos
was. Not upset about the matter. He's dotted on her since the first time
Lhiannonth sat on the sands with a clutch of her own. Such a lackey."

"Ach, Lyss would probably be just as happy with a blue or brown if'n it
came t'that. Although she's never had a brown favorite. Odd, now that I
think on it." Kassima mulls over this for a minute, then lets the thought
go with a cheerful shrug. "Luck of the draw. There've only been four, after
all. A green, now, she'd never forgive me for another green; there shall be
nay other greens on the ledge of Her Magnificence." The answer Amilin gives
wins a good-natured wrinkling of her nose. "Fathers," she announces,
"should nay be allowed t'faint. They should have t'stay conscious so they
can feel the pain when we break every bone in their hand. Only fair and
right."

Caritha giggles at Kassima's words, another grin directed towards R'dus,
"Well Semirath points out that browns are neither as impressive of form as
bronzes, nor as agile as blues. And with their memory problems, aren't
worth bothering with in the first place. She's almost a bit ashamed to have
been caught by one, I think. But she can sort of tolerate another green -
Oenoneth does sit on her ledge but there is plenty of room for her bronze
and thats all thats important to her."

S'rist lets the odd conversation just kind of swirl about him, as he spends
a little more attention focusing on the eggs out on the sands, trying to
develop his system for picking the right mix of colors for the eggs in the
clutch upon the sands.

R'dus happens to agree with the Telgari rider regarding fathers, that being
confirmed by a few slow nods of his noggin and a grin until Caritha
continues. "He was good 'nough to catch your Semirath, Kiddo." he calls
down with a laugh. "He's was a catcher before we graduated even." He sticks
his tongue out at her since she really needed.

"They probably shouldn't. But since when has R'sel ever done just exactly
what he was suppose to do? You should see him, Kassima. The man will get
double duties for missing a drill practice and -smile- as if it was just
what he's always wanted when he gets the news." Amilin rolls her eyes, "I
could tell you more stories." And considering who the man's wingleader is,
that's hardly shocking.

Kassima shakes her head, amused. "Depends on what sort of form one likes,
I'd be guessing. Lyss does seem t'favor bronzes of late, but browns don't
have so much bulk t'make 'em slow, and some of 'em wear terribly handsome
shades. Lyss has been caught by many, which may bias me!" One green eye
closes in a laughing wink for the youngest greenrider. "Truth be told? Hah.
Mayhaps that explains why M'rek said he and I should know each other. He
did say he turned in reports that rhymed, which tallies with the rest. Did
he write Yselle an apology note for fainting? In verse?"

Caritha giggles at R'dus, sticking back out her own tongue in retort before
turning to the conversation between the other greenriders, "Don't be too
hard on my mentor, he's pretty wonderful. Though I'd agree he's foolish for
taking punishment so easily. He taught me how to be a slacker but I've
never got any of the double duties or the like - no point in slacking and
then doing extra work later."

Amilin rolls her eyes and settles in more comfortably in her seat, "Oh
shards. The rhyming reports. G'non tried giving him extra hide work for not
turning reports in, so he did it all, without complaint, and then when the
punishment was up? The reports all were turned in, but rhyming. I do rather
think he's trying to drive my poor weyrmate insane sometimes. But you'll
have to ask him about Yselle." -- "I think he just doesn't want to risk
getting promoted...ever." She pauses to give Caritha a long look, "I'll be
sure to mention to G'non that oversight when I see him tonight." She might
be teasing.

S'rist gets to his feet and gives a bit of a stretch, "I think I've stared
out at them long as I can." He turns and gives a wave towards all of the
people on the galleries, "Clear skies to you all." And then he heads off
the galleries.

S'rist walks down a short flight of steps and heads out through the
entrance to the bowl.

"I have t'be confessing, I'd probably have loved that. Reports are so
bloody *tedious*. If'n he managed t'get the information all there and still
work out a rhyme scheme? I'd have taken him to the Lounge, bought his
drinks for the night, and possibly asked him t'sire a child for me."
Kassi's grin is impish. "I kid on the last, lest anyone pass that comment
on t'Josilina! Methinks... I might avoid asking about Yselle, really."
There's a slight hesitation there to suggest delicate phrasing. "Mmm.
You're doomed now, Caritha. I doubt there's a statute of limitation on
punishments for slacking." And although she says this in a good-natured
tone, she probably isn't teasing. "G'deve, Weyrleader," she calls after
S'rist as he goes.

R'dus shakes his head slowly upon Caritha's confession, chuckling too until
a yawn forces his mouth open way too wide forcing him to rub his jaw,
completely missing S'rist's departure. Standing, he bounces down the teirs
to the gallery floor, offers a wave to the ladies. "G'night, Ami. Kassima."
Whom he had met at the Lava Lounge a couple Turns back and he doesn't often
forget a name or a female unlike his dragon. "You too, Kiddo." he adds for
his niece.

Caritha squirms in her seat now, tone of voice defensive, "I've not done
any slacking that is punishable. Are you saying that G'non is getting
senile or something that he'd not have noticed if I did? I, for one, have
the greatest of respect for my wingleader and know that if I was remiss in
my duties, he'd take steps immediately to correct that situation." Her
uncle is offered a wave, "Night night old man," she calls out in a teasting
voice with a wink.

"I'm not sure G'non minded the rhymes so much as the fact that it was
another bit of proof that the man -could- do the work well if he wanted."
Ami shrugs and then pauses, "I'll not mention then. Don't see her much
anyway." Caritha is given a level look, "No, I'd never suggest him to be
what he's not. But by saying you're getting away with slacking, you suggest
an awful lot about him."

R'dus walks down a short flight of steps and heads out through the entrance
to the bowl.

"If'n you've nay done slacking that's punishable, then how have you done
any slacking?" reasons Kassima. "Since that means you haven't skipped
drills, skipped reports, dodged sweeps, etceteras. Or so I'm assuming. Ah,
well, that's a point," she adds, with a wry nod to Amilin. "That'd leave
you wanting t'tear out your hair. Still... rhyming reports. I love it. I
should keep that in mind for a punishment."

Caritha isn't quite sure what to say to Kassima's words, since it is the
truth of the matter - the young girl is far more talk than substance on
this issue. She just looks at Amilin, "You spent two turns with me when I
was a weyrling, you know that I do not get into trouble for stupid things.
I'm too smart to just avoid duties and get caught or not listen to orders."

"Sounds a fine punishment for some miscreant to me, Kassima. And knowing
R'sel, he'll be honored to have inspired..." Ami smiles crookedly, so like
her sister, at Kassima's words on slacking, then nods to Caritha, "You
still could learn to watch your boasting. You give the wrong impression
with your words."

Kassima's voice is almost dreamy. "I could have them do entire reports in
iambic pentameter...." What monster has R'sel unwittingly created? "Oh, oh,
and I should suggest it t'your sister, too. For the hidework wars. She
might have a point," she adds to Caritha, wry. "Mayhaps keep it to those
you know will know better? I don't care if'n m'Wingriders joke around
Telgar about me only picking 'em for Thunderbolt for their fecundity, but
'twould be passing strange if'n they said as much t'you when 'twere
visiting, say."

After a moment, Kassi adds in a droll tone, "Nay that 'twould stop some of
'em. Miscreants, all," and that word is surely seldom said so fondly.

Colour rises to Caritha's cheeks at the scolds coming from both the older
greenriders but she busies herself with looking out at the sands rather
than responding to them - for she's not about to actually admit they are
correct, not with words at any rate. After a while, she asks, "So who is
taking bets on the clutch, if not you Kassima?"

"My sister..." Ami blinks once for that, then arches a brow, "You've been
hanging out with M'rek, haven't you? Dare I ask about hidework wars?" But
she chuckles softly, "Iambic pentameter..." She nods along with the rest of
what Kassima says, clearly agreeing, but she lets it go, as far as
Caritha's behavior is concerned, after just another glance.

"Oh, I am," Kassi is quick to assure. "I'm just nay likely keeping the
richest pools; you'd want a local for that. All m'bets so far are of the
direct sort. Who else might be... I tend t'doubt Vel or Em, and that's two
of the three folk here at the moment I know best. Would M'rek take wagers?
He seems the sort t'do it." She inclines her head to Amilin, affirming. "I
have. Although M'rek's only led me t'Beastcraft once, on a quest t'plunder
their liquor--I saw Cailin at their Gather, and at Weavercraft one eve.
'Twould seem she and the Craftmaster are almost in an informal competition
t'see who can give the other the most hidework. T'strike back with hidework
in meter and verse might be a cunning blow." Or a lunatic one.

Caritha nods to Kassima as she stands up, "I'll have to ask around I
suppose, since I have a bit to wager thanks to Amilin." She pauses, "If you
two will excuse me, I don't believe I'd have anything to contribute to
discussing hidework wars and its getting late. I should head to sleep soon.
After all, I'd never want to be late for my morning sweeps."

"The Beastcraft has liquor to plunder?" Ami lofts both brows up in surprise
now, "I'd have never guessed that. But trust M'rek to find it..." She
shakes her head then, "And informal competition with the Craftmaster? Oh
shells but I hope the man is aware of what he's let himself in fore with
that." She nods to Caritha, and gives a smile, "Have a g'eve then. Ahh. I
miss morning sweeps. They were always my favorite wing duty."

Kassima suggests, "You're welcome t'wager with me if'n you want to and find
nay preferrable book-keeper. Just look me up whenever... I'm here oft
enough." A slightly sheepish, but equally fond smile crosses her face at
that. "A'course, a'course. Regards t'your lifemate, Caritha, and a pleasure
as always t'be seeing you. Amilin, you're insane," which would ostensibly
be for morning sweeps; she laughs as she says it. "Believe it or nay, they
do--or at least the Craftmaster does. He broke out a bottle for us of the
most magnificent liquor. We all got drunk. A good night, 'twas."

Caritha grins and nods to Amilin, "Sunrise is lovely. And very convenient
when sleeping in Igen during the cold months - doesn't seem so early
there." With a wave to the pair, she heads back down towards the bowl.

Caritha walks down a short flight of steps and heads out through the
entrance to the bowl.

"Like she said. I like to see the sunrise. And I admit, I like the flying
time with just Das and I. Not much other time that you have to yourself
like that." Ami laughs though, for the matter of liquor, "I'll have to
procure a taste of that. Not that I'm much of s drinker, but it'd be a
shame to miss out for the lack of knowing."

"The dawn is beautiful. Alas that I've always been a night creature, which
makes being awake then somewhat less than a joy." Kassima's nod and smile
are entirely understanding for the rest of the sentiment, though. "I
haven't gone flying, just flying, with Lyss in... too long. A long time.
Oh, but you really should--go with M'rek; that might help, since Cailin
said 'twas a liking of him that convinced the Craftmaster t'break out the
scotch."

"I've had to adapt. Between duty, the kids and weyrlings. I'm not sure
which I am anymore." Ami shrugs, smiling still. She clearly doesn't mind.
"Go with M'rek? Oh shells but that could be fun. Trouble as likely as not
as well, but fun in truth." -- "You've seen her recently then?"

Kassima admits, "Point, and point, and point again. I've scarce ever been
able t'keep a regular schedule. M'own fault, these latter Turns--for having
so many children, and for varying the time of Thunderbolt's drills so on
top of that. 'Twas easier a'fore 'twere visits t'make. But I don't regret
that change." Her moment's warm, unselfconscious smile would suggest not.
"You should do it, then. The Star knows he knows how t'have a good time
even in the midst of chaos. Ah, well, might depend on your definition of
'recently.'" She waggles one hand in the universal gesture for kinda-sorta.
"Methinks the last was... the Beastcraft Gather? Aye? So some months agone.
We wagered over the meat fight."

"Maybe I'll see about it before this lot breaks shell then. Some night
G'non's apt to work too late or what have you." Ami smiles for that and
then shakes her head on the other. "A meat fight. I'm almost afraid to ask.
Truly." But she looks to be teasing, "Well, so long as she's happy and safe."

Kassima bobs her head enthusiastically. "Do, if'n you can. 'Tis worth it.
Believe me. Some of the best liquor I've ever had, and I've had... well,
mayhaps nay so much as M'rek, but m'fair share. People were whacking each
other with chicken extremities!" Amilin didn't ask, but Kassi's going to
tell her anyway. "It was one of the most beautifully wrong thing I'd ever
seen. She does seem relatively happy, though. And methinks M'rek and her
Craft are keeping her safe." A glance towards the Bowl might suggest
consultation with her lifemate, perhaps as to the position of the moons
since her next words are, "Later, 'tis... methinks 'twill check in with
Vel, see how his headache progresses and whether he'd like company t'rub
his temples if'n naught else. If'n 'twill excuse? It's been a delight
talking with you, Amilin."

"I'll have to see about that, certainly." Ami agrees, then laughs, "Chicken
extremities...You do have a thing for chickens, I think." She shakes her
head, then hesitates a little before smiling again. "Good. I hope that she
is on both counts. She tends to hide things from me enough I'm not always
as sure as I should be." The last gets a nod, "I won't keep you. I'm sure
he'll be happy to see you some more."

"Particularly in lemon sauce," Kassima agrees without shame. "And that...
'tis the way of family sometimes, isn't it? I can't swear to it, but
methinks she is." There's a brief pause. "I saw her son once. 'Tis clear in
speaking t'her that she loves him very much--if'n that's any comfort; I'm
thinking you know what sort of happiness that brings, having a child that
you love. But I'm digressing. I hope he will." A quick-flashed grin. "I
hope. G'deve, Amilin, and clear skies t'you."

You walk down a short flight of steps and head out through the entrance to
the bowl.