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Company, Misery Loves
Date: January 9(?), 2001
Place: Telgar Weyr Outer Infirmary
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: I'sai is a sadist. That about sums everything up. But
for the sake of not wasting brevity when I might need it later:
Kassima, sunburnt, wanders into the Infirmary in search of relief, and
ends up being chased around by a Healer with a most peculiar speech-
pattern when a mildly injured Is refuses to be of much assistance.
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The Log:
You go beneath the rocky overhang that protects the Infirmary entrance.
"And sit there you will!" a journeyman with thinning red hair says, shaking
his finger at a certain wingsecond who's a-sulking on a stool, right hand
wrapped in a nice white bandage.
But soft, what light through yonder entrance breaks? It is the east, and
Kassima is the sun.... -burned Wingleader, nose red, cheeks redder than
could otherwise be accounted for, and wincing all the way. "Oh, nay," she
mutters, pressing back against the wall. "There're *Healers* in here--and
Is? Hey, Is. Will you keep playing Healer-bait while I steal aloe from 'em?"
"No," says I'sai, still sulkily. "Journeyman! Look who's here! Why, it's
Kassima!" As the man begins to turn, the light tenor shades a little more
pleasant, explaining, "I didn't want to suffer by myself." Call it a
compliment.
Kassima makes a sound akin to a merp, and drops to the ground, trying to
curl up in a hopefully-undetectable ball of greenriderness before the
Journeyman completes his turn. Like this could possibly work with that
jacket of hers. But hope springs eternal, right? "I'll get you for this,
bronzerider," she mutters, further ruining her own discretion. "You're
relatively safe. But you know what Healers do t'people who steal mint sticks--"
Is that a smirk? It -is-. I'sai must be feeling better, for all that a
quelling glance from the journeyman - en route towards the wingleader -
makes him slow his swinging boots. "Blame it on Aless," he says, none too
quietly. "She was in here earlier, took the rest. If you don't have any
left, it's because of her."
Kassima casts a quick glance about. Is there a place to hide? Can she
scrabble under that cot before the Healer reaches her? She'll try, anyway.
When it comes to the sort of people who choose to do physical exams for a
living, pride comes second to sheer self-preservation. "I'm nay here!" she
adds helpfully to the Journeyman in question. And, "Shardit--she *took* 'em?
'Twas counting on one t'console m'self with after today's stupidity. And
speaking thereof, what happened to you?" She can hide and talk at the same
time. Multi-talented Kassi.
"Got hurt," I'sai says laconically, kicking his feet again, and watches the
journeyman ("Come back here! Hurt yourself worse you will!") go at it. "What
did -you- do?"
"Fell asleep at Boll, in daytime, of all idiot things--I'm nay *hurt*; it's
just sunburn, I can take care of it m'self thankee! Nay," is added, "that I
don't appreciate the concern, but really...." Kassi doesn't move from under
that convenient cot, either. She's safe. Or can at least pretend she is.
"I'd gathered got hurt, but what did you *do*?"
I'sai waves his hand - the non-bandaged one - even if she can't see it;
"Rock. Hit it. Hard." Tripped. He watches with apparent interest as the
healer reaches to try and lift said cot from her while mumbling under his
breath about riders and they should all be used to it by now. "How -was-
Boll? Not the time of Turn I'd be wanting to go, I'd say that much, not in
the daytime. Maybe, if you ask nicely, he'll give you a exam."
Kassima replies, "Did you." Terseness is a game that two can play. Not
really having the leverage to hold the cot down, she attempts to crawl
stealthily away without being noticed. Ha ha. Good luck. "Done that. Though
t'leg, nay t'hand--and Boll was fine; lovely, warm. Sunny. Obviously. And
now I'm a *tomato*--but I don't want an exam!" That towards both bronzerider
and Healer, evidently.
The healer pauses a moment, rubs his chin, ...and starts sitting down on the
cot. Why not? Meanwhile, muted snickering from I'sai's spot finally becomes
briefly intelligible as, "...tomato... salt... sandwich..."
Why not, indeed? Apart from that Kassi nearly gets squished. Dropping to her
stomach on the floor, she attempts *oozing* out from underneath. This should
work. Really. "Try t'make a sandwich out of me, and 'twill pluck out your
eyes and put 'em in jars for your drooling fans," she threatens. "I may look
like a tomato, but it doesn't make me edible. Ooof. Help me out here, would
you? What've I ever done t'you?"
The healer quite calmly watches her ...ooze. "Good exercise that is," he
tells her. "Though see a wingleader do that normally I do not. Sit still,
and better you will feel." Meanwhile, I'sai attempts standing up and
slinking for the bowl.
Kassima points out with muttered logic, still oozing on along, "I can't. I
need t'get to the aloe without falling into your nefarious Healer clutches,
but *someone* isn't being very helpful." Oh, who could that be? "Is, I'll
tell Mart you were flirting with Kena if'n you dare abandon me to the
Infirmary-haunters!"
"Abandon is such a -strong- word," I'sai sighs. And he's nearly on his way
out, nearly, but - as much a lie as hers would be, "Besides, he won't
believe you. Tell you what. For Lysseth's sake. I'll... what is it that you
want me to do, exactly?" Meanwhile, healer: "Sure I am not what this
'nefarious' is but complimentary it cannot be. But already on the floor you
are, so fall you cannot either." At least the man's wearing soft shoes as he
taps them near the Kassi-ooze.
"He would," Kassi promises, tone most dire. "You know his jealousy. And he's
said many times he's afraid of your--I quote him here--'Hot Pants' getting
near Kena and making her pregnant." Oh, great. Made pregnant by a pair of
pants. What would one spawn? Shorts? "Well, if'n you can't distract this
Healer, could you at least get the aloe for me? Then mayhaps I can run out
and you can toss it t'me and I can get away." Sure. "I mean that if'n I
don't hide from you," and here she edges as far from those shoes as she can
manage, "you'll probably drag me off and poke me in undignified ways. With
cold instruments. I know you Healer-types."
"Not gonna happen," I'sai says in a timbre pitched as confident as hers is
dire. "It's not, nohow, no way. ...Besides. Everyone says she's not supposed
to have any littles, it was luck having the one. So-o... what's this aloe
stuff look like? And where is it?" He even shrugs his way off the stool,
though he's slow at crossing to the healers' shelves. Of course, the healer
says, "Describe that as if you want it you do," and that with a frown. "And
stay out of our supplies you should." I'sai pauses, caught between
journeyman and wingleader. If not -his- wingleader.
"If'n I *wanted* you t'do that, why would I be hiding under a cot, hoping
you'll leave me alone?" Kassi demands in exasperation. "I don't *like* being
poked, much less with aught that's cold. Besides, the supplies belong to the
Weyr, don't they? If'n aloe and numbweed are as precious as that, I can do
without, but I hardly thought we were nigh out." Green eyes squint up
towards Is as best they can. "Flights," she points out. "Cymrith's green.
And there's the Water. 'Tis a white paste, if'n the Healer will let you take
it; should be in with the skin creams and such."
"Is she drinking ... drinking the water-stuff on purpose?" I'sai, warily,
not making a move. Healer: "Strange I agree it is. And careful with the
supplies we must be. If look you had let me, and truly just a sunburn it is,
done by now we would have been." I'sai: "Er, maybe I need some. For my skin.
And I'd ...share. So I'll just get some... for myself... since you already
looked me over." Healer, patiently, "Come out and give it to you I shall, if
look you let me do."
Kassima has to consider that one. "She might be," comes the final
conclusion. "She's always wanted more children, methinks, and Mart too, but
I don' tknow whether they still hope to." Warily, then: "Just look? Nay
aught more? Nay poking, nay prodding? --And I do thankee for the effort, Is.
You should've asked for acting lessons rather than knife lessons, though."
Healer: "If really just a sunburn it is, nay - er, *no* prodding there will
be," he confirms. I'sai: "Heard and witnessed!" and with an eye for the
arch. "I still need knife lessons. And besides, if you can have littles, so
should she." Healer: "Life... *knife* lessons in here you will not have."
There's a moment's silence, and then Kassi very carefully inches the rest of
the way from under the cot to stand in slightly sullen and very red glory.
Nose, face, hands, neck, all cheerfully lobster-like. "If'n I survive, you
can go free," she promises I'sai in an undertone. "Just give me a yell
sometime; a bargain's a bargain--and you don't know why Kena's nay supposed
t'be able t'have children?" All the while, she's eyeing the Healer with
suspicion. "Methinks Is has learned most of his life lessons, aye, and from
better teachers than me."
"Something not working right?" I'sai shrugs in that vague better-not-ask
sort of way, and - as long as he has his back to the exit - stays long
enough to watch the rest of the entertainment. Which at the moment consists
mostly of the healer clucking to himself with a, "Nasty, nassssssty
sssunburn it is. Blisters you do not have? Lift hair. Turn around."
Kassima shakes her head, with some care for her burned skin. "She had a
miscarriage some time a'fore weyrmating t'Mart. Nasty one--they didn't think
she'd have any at all, so Kegan's a miracle, in a way. Nay yet--nay that I
know of, though I didn't look *everywhere*." She obediantly reaches back to
tug up that long, long braid; the back of her neck, as she turns, is her
usual snow-white color. Must've been lying on her back while she slept.
I'sai hesitates, more of a twitch than anything, though the dark expression
passes from his sharp features as swiftly as rainwater. "Did it on purpose?"
he asks through all the healer's clucks and just-fine-theres and
little-dab-will-do-yous.
Kassima's keen, well-rested, mercifully unburnt eyes catch that twitch; her
expression is fleetingly one of repentance. "Sorry, Is," she murmurs,
shifting the braid over her shoulder so she doesn't have to keep holding it
up. The thing's heavy. "If'n you mean drank the Water and conceived Kegan,
aye. If'n you mean... the other, I don't believe so." A glance born of
amusement and exasperation commingled is directed over her shoulder to that
Healer. "So could I have some of the aloe and numbweed, please, then? If'n
there's enough? I'm scorched quite a bit under the clothes, too--but
naught," she hastens to assure, "worse than the face, say."
"Even put it on yourself you can," the healer assesses, since evidently it's
all places she can reach. "So bad that was not, hmm? Under the clothes I
will *trust* you, yesss," and rattles on in like tone while getting her the
appropriate jar. And I'sai, he nods one more time - more subdued, just now -
and slips out to the bowl before he can be collared again.