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Wise Children


Date:  May 10, 2004
Place:  Telgar Weyr Workroom
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:  A short but pleasing scene.  Kassi and Is run into 
each other in the Workroom and shoot the breeze about this and that,
focusing on (if anything) their various children.  Of course, there's
also some discussion of chaos vs. order, pandemonium, retaliation, and
glorious battle, but that shouldn't really surprise with these two. ;)

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The Log:

You push aside the curtain and enter the workroom.

It's a lazy winter evening, not long after dinner; Telgar has long nights
this time of Turn, but also crackdust instead of Fall, much of the time,
but even so I'sai's off a drill with Skyfire and sitting back, polishing
Taralyth's buckles while some lucky riders with smaller dragons wander off,
their job already completed.

Speaking of dust, though not crackdust--Kassi's made some effort to clean
up after the late evening drills, but her jacket still bears drifts of the
stuff, grey and fine and scenting of firestone and char. She takes a few
ineffectual swats at the arms as she enters, likely not for the first time;
steps aside for those wandering riders, with nods of greeting and an
amiable quip or two, then finally heads towards the back and the hearth
with its blessed *warmth*. "Taralyth feeling the urge to shine?" she asks
I'sai, spotting his task and offering a grin. "In straps, anyway--a'course
he shines plenty elsewise."

"Eh," I'sai says mellowly, "Just needed doing. Not that it got near rust -
but you know how he is." He lifts his boots off one chair to make room,
sliding them onto another. With a nod towards her attire, "How'd it go?"

Kassima nods her thanks for that chair and hooks a booted foot around a
leg, the better for dragging it out to sit in. "Wouldn't see him any other
way," she agrees. "Or he'd nay be Taralyth. Nay so badly; I could always
want it better, but M'zar's cleared up Irikith's problem of ducking
left--or so it appears--and I'm well-pleased with that. Yours? And how's it
with you?"

"Glad to hear that," Is says, and bends his head to the work, knuckling in
a particularly tricky spot. "And I'm fine. Tired, though. It's the lack of
sun, I think - Lyss, she's well?"

"You do seem it," Kassi allows after a moment's observation. She combs hair
back away from her eyes. "If'n I'm getting in your way... only came in for
some warmth, and I could get that elsewhere, if'n 'twere looking t'be
alone. Shells, though, haven't seen true *sun* in what feels like
sevendays... have you nay been about somewhere where you could get some?
But Lysseth's quite well." Pause. "Well. Relatively. She corrects me on the
point: she'd be *better* if'n a certain two-Turn-old hadn't decided that
being two meant he was old enough t'have a dragon of his very own as a
teething toy."

"Nah, nah. Much as I'd like to say the workroom's my personal domain - and
even then, you'd still get an invite in - " I'sai flaps the polishing cloth
and continues. "Some places, aye. But I'm not there right now. And Tear
being asleep doesn't help - though I suspect he'd suggest, in that case,
convincing the firelizards to play with him."

Kassima is as pleased as amused: "Would I, now! There's an honor. Does mean
I'd have nay excuse t'go t'war with you over it and pitch m'minions against
your minions, if'n either of us could *find* any minions, but methinks
'twill take the trade." She relaxes back into the chair with a pop of bone,
stretching out her legs and sighing. "A sleeping Tear does make sun
difficult. 'Twould offer t'kidnap you off t'Boll or wherever and leave you
there if'n 'twere your fancy, but I'm nay sure he'd forgive Lyss that, and
rightly--hah, now, there'd be a trick. M'fire-lizards still remember Kazy's
teething adventure. They're proving quite deft at avoiding little hands
just now."

"Not even a little tiny excuse?" I'sai teases. "I'm sure your creativity
could come up with _something_ - and that pop didn't sound so good. You all
right?" - "And no, he certainly wouldn't. Pity about firelizards' memories,
though, sometimes. But you'll notice Nil isn't around me at the moment; she
and Naught have reached something of an accommodation, I -hope-."

"Hmm-mmm. I could do battle with you because you're wearing *red* with
*grey*, I suppose," Kassi drawls, attempting thoughtfulness, "when all know
red properly goes best with black. Or green. Do like the black diamonds,
though." The question wins a half-grin, slanted towards wry. A hand comes
up to rub at her left temple, at the corner of an eye. "Only tired. Some
days I don't think the Interval can come fast enough, if'n you get me.
Interval nor summer--oh, so they know now who's highest on the pecking
order? Which? Pity she'd choose t'absent herself when I haven't yet had
call t'poke your ribs or ruffle your hair or aught, and can't take
advantage of her nay biting fingers off for it."

"Thanks," I'sai says amiably. "'S old, but I like it - and yeah, I hear you
there. Interval, summer, although partway I don't know what I'll do without
Fall to chase, so - as for a pecking order, right now it's an uneasy
truce." But chaos usually wins out over order, one way or another.
Cheerfully, "Who knows, if you try it, she'll show up. But then that'd
spoil the quiet, so let's not test."

Kassima allows, "I understand that. These pants may be older than you are."
She twitches a wrinkle out of them, or tries; it doesn't want to go, and
she's evidently not feeling that persistent. "I can't imagine either.
Thirty-some Turns, that's been the crux of everything... Lysseth turned
thirty and seven, y'know, a half-month back. A long time. Strange in a way
t'think we'll probably live t'see it at this rate." She does reach a
boot-toe as though to nudge his leg in retribution, but stops short; "You
say that," she accuses, "only t'spare your ribs. Wuss."

I'sai glances over and says, "They look as if they're holding up all
right," as he returns to his work. "And she'd -better- survive, both of
you, and - I'll admit it, I'll admit it. Don't want to get beaten up. Or,
then would come the retaliation, and then pandemonium, and where goes the
laziness there?"

"Thankee," says Kassi. Kassi's pants do not say anything, but they are
smug, and would probably gleam with smugness if it weren't for that faint
patina of dust. "Oh, what will you do t'us if'n we *don't* survive? Some
horrid terrible punishment? This could make good hearing. And I defy you
t'ever point to a time when I've *beaten you up*, but you're only too right
about the retaliation and pandemonium. And glorious though chaos and battle
triumphant can be... well, I just don't see being comfy by the fire fitting
in there. Rain check?"

Smug, snug - "Something like that," Is says lazily.
"Horrible-terrible-verrible. Or something. And I think the wherrywiches
count." He yawns. "Rain check. Something like that. Although Tear'd be just
as happy not to have any rain for a while, either. Because of mud, and all."

Probably both, come to think of it. "Nay details?" Kassi wheedles. "How can
I properly live in terror without details? Hey, now, the wherrywiches
didn't induce bruising or broken noses or aught else." Pause. "Or if'n they
did, I really don't want t'imagine *how*. Would he take rain over snow? Or
sleet? Methinks 'twould. Nay that Lysseth's for mud either. Being muddy is
undignified, but Kaswyn would love it, and probably be only too happy
t'teach Kai t'love it too."

I'sai holds his nose and eyes her. Nasally, "No noses. 'O 'Oses at all.
Snow, he'd go for snow, it's cleaner; sleet, though, nothing on that. And
I'm sure he would... How're the two doing, these days? Kisai wants to talk
about herself and not them, understandably enough."

Kassima holds up one hand with its first two fingers and thumb folded in
that ancient gesture of old: the threat to *steal* a nose. For now she
spares his though, perhaps because he's holding onto it so tightly; "But
bruising?" she wonders. "*Goodness*. I don't know that 'twill ever dare
eating one again. Snow's more fun t'*play* in besides, at least according
t'Lyss. She's been playful. Tear might watch it around her; she's apt
t'keep snow-ammunition handy, and always has admired the aesthetics of
white splattered against bronze. Ah, aye, our daughter the
near-teenager...." Her shudder at *that* thought isn't entirely affected.
Then: "Well, Kazy's got a new caretaker, and he--Kazy--was helpful enough
t'inform me that this lad has apparently been sighing over Kharisma's rear
end in public. Always a joyful thing t'be told by your four-Turn-old. Kai,
now, he's loving all his Turnday gifts most thoroughly and I'd swear he's
*still* hopped up on his grandparents' sweets. From Kris's Turnday too,
beyond just his. Oh, hey, and he's learned a new word--called Uncle Scot
'wh'reehead' the other day," and she imitates their son's tones fairly
well. "I suspect Kiss at work."

I'sai shakes his head, and gets back to cleaning, "Snow-ammunition, you
say? I'll remember that..." he shudders, too, and settles in to listen.
"-Very- helpful four-Turn-old, and why am I not surprised about the sweets?
Smart girl."

Kassima, satisfied that the warning's been delivered--thus dissolving her
of culpability later?--nods, then nods again. "Helpful's one word for it.
And you aren't surprised because you know him too well, I'm thinking; as
if'n you've never, ever snuck him a cookie or aught a'fore turning him back
t'me," but that's teasing, no true pique, and perhaps for that matter no
truth. "That too y'know. How's your fine lot?"

I'sai laughs, and doesn't deny it in his turn. "Good." - "They're well, for
the most part. 'Saira's looking forward to journeyrank, though; after
running about -here-, apprenticeship's hard. And Iskia's taken up
dragonhealing with Saskia, so they're good together that way. Kysaila's got
her fourth coming up - and so on." He yawns again, though from the hour,
not them.

"Apprenticed t'Healer, isn't it?" Kassi wants to know. "I remember her
speaking of it--shells, hard t'believe a spawn of Ryi's would turn to the
Dark Side. At least *that* Dark Side. But it may well suit her, bright as
she is. Does Isakan still like blowing things up, and how old's Ilessa now?
I recall she's a pretty lass; might need a father guarding her interests
soon, poor thing," that last, beyond doubt, being meant for him. If she's
amused, it's a sympathetic amusement. And the latter half disappears into
pure sympathy: "Were the drills so rough? Or is it all the sun?"

"Think of it this way," I'sai says, "You have a potential source of
mint-sticks, if you bribe her enough, to supplement Sauscony if you need
it. Isak, well, blowing things up, running around, all of that. Ilessa,
nearing fourteen, she and Ice both are. And Lani, she just won't decide,
and yeah, she's moving up in Turns. Only so old when they can 'prentice.
How about yours, the rest?"

Kassima gives him a wounded look, one of her better ones: "Does that mean I
can never hit you up for any anymore?" Oh, woe. Wurra wurra and woe. Look
at her sniffle. "*Fourteen*. She'll be causing broken hearts all over this
Weyr soon then, mark me--and mayhaps Lani will only want t'live here as a
resident? Nay shame in it if'n nay Craft calls t'her. I haven't any Crafter
children m'self either. Kay, well, she's thirty the other day, same day as
Kris's-- he's twenty and three, Faranth help me. Khari hasn't said a
*thing* t'me about Jivren sighing over her rump, so I don't know where
things are going there, but I had heard she broke it off with that man from
Bitra. Nay true surprise. Kris might end up tutoring Kazy a bit, and on his
own is well, but he always is... I *would* like t'be seeing Kim and Ky
Apprentice. Kim t'Beastcraft, methinks, and Ky t'Baker. But Kim doesn't
want t'leave Ky; I don't think Ky would mind, only he doesn't want
t'*admit* he likes t'cook. Girly activity, y'know."

"Maybe, maybe," I'sai says on a laugh. "You put on a good show. Just wait
for Kisai to be doing that. - And now you're causing suffering. I don't
want to think about it. Denial's a good thing. I -suppose- she could live
here as a resident... but she could do more. If she just wanted. Khari and
a Bitran? Now, that'd have been a pair, broken it off or no." He snorts.
Girly activity. indeed.

"I'd offer t'beg and plead, but I've had m'share for awhile--of begging, at
least. Stone floors are nay kind to the knees. I might still plead if'n the
straits are dire." Kassi tries the pleading eyes out for a moment, but it's
clearly only a test run since her expression settles back into cheerful,
tired amusement in a short span. "What, she hasn't done it t'you already?
I'm all for denial. I deny things all the time. Like Kay having a son
meaning she actually slept with somebody at some point." That's slightly
deadpan. Just slightly. "*If'n* she wanted; that's the point. If'n she
doesn't want? Nay the first man Khari's paired with for a time, but the
first from out-Weyr, methinks. Another artist, with dragonpoker cards. And
I thought you'd see it my way," for the snort, with a grin attached.

"Think we both do," I'sai says. "Enough of that - not only someone, but
who. Dragonpoker cards? Moving up." He stretches, showing off the latest in
the series of shiny metal. "Think this is about done. Glad to have it done."

Kassima permits herself a wry smile. "Both deny? Ah, well. Name me a rider
who doesn't. If'n you ask me, *she* does the better cards--but I'm nay the
least biased of persons." No. Really? Shock of shocks there. She leans
forward to sincerely admire the straps: "Nay half-bad work; Tear should be
pleased. He'll sparkle for true now. Is that your last task for the night
a'fore a chance t'rest?"

I'sai grins at her, "No, not the least biased at all. Though of course
you're right." He holds up the buckles a little higher, then lets them
fall, and stands with the straps, stretching. "And right all over again.
You'll have yourself a good night, Kassi?"

"I'm always right," says Kassima, affecting a tone of smug pomposity--but
she disrupts it quick enough with a wink. "Except when I'm wrong. And how
oft *that* is you'll probably never hear me admit. I'll do m'level best;
you do the same, hey? Get some rest, some sun later. Glad I ran into you,
though; always a pleasure."

I'sai shoulders his straps and grins at her. "Rest, sun - and never
admitting - s'all good. Night," he says one last time, and heads on out.

I'sai leaves the workroom and heads out into the bowl.