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Carpe Talum


Date:  October 26, 2004
Place:  Telgar Weyr Hot Springs
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:  It's a bit after Lysseth's most recent flight--a flight
which was won by V'lano's Volath, providing a new facet to the 
relationship between the greenrider and her bronze mentee.  Still, for
all that he's graduated now, she's not beyond offering him some 
advice from time to time.  Such as advice on seizing the moment... 
which both of them seem to take somewhat to heart. :)

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The Log:

You wing over the spiky cliffs towards the wafts of steam.

<*> Volath flies over the edges of rock and lands on the far end of the
springs.

<*> "Good," V'lano informs his lifemate as the latter wings down. "I was
hoping you'd come to your senses." Though neck-deep in one of the hotter
pools, arms stretched out to either side along the stone rim, legs afloat
midwater, and thus his low, soft-pitched words are well out of the bronze's
hearing, Volath huffs a breath of mild indignance. "Yes, I know. I agree.
But not tonight, please." He dips a hand into the water and drizzles his
face with the hot droplets while the dragon drolly tromps toward one of the
larger pools.

<*> Lysseth is evidently in a slightly wicked mood, since her downward
course threatens--or appears to, for a moment--to land her in the water;
"Nay getting me wet yet, wench!" Sigh. Riders. She lands on the edge of the
pool instead, steam curling around the edges of her wings. Kassima shakes
her head and clouts her dragon on the neck, but affectionately, and slides
down from her strapless perch. "--Hey, Volath. Hey, Vel. You can't tell me
Volath was being insensible, surely?" While her dragon affords a rather
melodious warble.

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.

"I can't?" V'lano grins, having watched the near-splash-landing, lifting
himself up a bit from the water to get a better view. A bit disappointed,
or at least pulling a face as such, he subsides into the drink again,
lifting more droplets over his abbreviated curls. Volath whispers a trace
of a croon, blended over by a weaker desire to rumble, for Lysseth's daring
act, and expresses with only a sending of the vision of an enormous splash
his support for what might have been. Tsk, drat that sensible Kassima
person. "Don't even think of it, Volath," the rider remarks, pushing
himself off of the side of the pool and kicking toward the other side,
closing the liquid space between himself and the larger pools nearby the
dragons.

"You are wicked," Kassi announces, with a great deal more amusement than
righteous ire. "--And you may splash me," though which dragon this might be
directed to, her own or that bronze whose vision Lysseth has obligingly and
laughingly shared, "once I'm appropriately attired for being soaked.
Assuming you can get the water so far. But only if you splash V'lano too,
because those are the rules." She casts the bronzerider in question a most
innocent look before attending to her changing, walking to set her belt
with its various rustable metal implements somewhere far away from any
water that might fly, thank you.

The bathing rider laughs, making it to the edge of the pool before pausing
there, hitching his elbows up onto the rim and crossing his wrists over
each other to make a platform for his chin to rest on. "I'm already wet,"
he points out, "Hardly any fun for splashing. The proper timing would be
once you're undressed, but while you're still dry." On cue, Volath moves
quite near the water's edge and spans out one shimmering wing, curling its
lowest spar close to the surface. Muscles that have by now recovered from
the incredible strain of following Lysseth in a more acrobatic evening
tense, setting the sails ashiver in preparation for a single splashy
wingbeat to come.

Kassima points out over the rustle of clothing, "But you can *retaliate*,
thus the danger and the attraction--although I must grant you, our
retaliations must seem remarkably little threat to them. They laugh most
cruelly in the face of our peril!" After wrapping a forest green towel
around herself as she always does, she nevertheless pads obligingly back
into splashing range, fingers at work on unraveling her braid: "Just make
my drowning merciful, Volath!" she teases. "That's all I ask!" Lysseth is
evidently content to let him have the first strike; she slides into the
water to watch from its depths, where, not so coincidentally, she might
also admire the sheen of that wing. Whether her thrummed note is approval
of gleaming sail or attack is not so easy to tell.

Volath draws back the wing and flaps it forward, scooping out a large fan
of water in Kassima's direction. The arc's clumsy and aims largely for her
lower half, the remainder of the splash likely to thunder down on the
stone's surface and soak the rock that washing people and dragons need to
have good footing on. So much for -that.- "Oh, Volath," comes from V'lano a
moment too late, clearly mortified. His forehead sinks into his hands,
unwilling or unable to watch - but the corner of his mouth, visible from
profile, sneaks up just a bit in a trace of a grin.

Kassima's yelp for the soaking begins almost before the water actually hits
her, so may be more for effect than real distress--though it does jump
upwards in note in surprise towards the end. Braced or not, the water is
certainly much hotter than the weather outside; and as she peers down at
herself, relatively dry from the waist up and pretty much utterly drenched
from the waist down, she has to laugh. And laugh. "Your aim might improve.
Now, how am I supposed t'get to a pool without falling all over the place?
Crawl, d'you think?" She's amused, perhaps the moreso for that hint of
amusement on V'lano's part. Her eyes dart towards Lysseth. There's no
verbal cue, but quite as if this were planned from the outset, the green
rears back as best she can in the water to sweep a wing--no, *both*
wings--forward and send a cheerful retaliatory wave forth.

"Maybe slide - " V'lano's lifted his head, but only just in time to see the
peripheral effect of that wave coming his way and suck up some of the water
in his open mouth. He splutters good-naturedly while Volath makes a low
squeak of surprise and flinches, both wings spreading - it serves only to
make a better target of him, and drenched a heartbeat later, the
barely-grown bronze remarks upon his state with words he can't possibly
remember as familiar. The tone, this time, is completely different: not
syrupy in admiration now, but almost sarcastic. << That was clever. >>

Kassima is not shy about expressing her own delight for this maneuver,
clapping and laughing and only laughing the harder for those splutters,
though she does have the grace to immediately say, "I'm sorry! I didn't
suggest that part t'her, I swear--" Edging and half-sliding towards the
pool, she offers magnanimously, "You can take some form of dastardly watery
revenge if'n you want." In the water, Lysseth's triumph reigns, and the
green's eyes whirl a quick and gleeful blue-green before she arches her
neck and lowers her head in a pose of mock-demureness. She does not answer
in words at first, but there's a flash of crystal spires glinting
silver-white, lit by lightning within until they shine brightly, wickedly.
The sentiment is clear: << I try. >>

V'lano finishes spluttering to clear his voice, and flashes a grin at the
wingleader, head ashake. "Oh, didn't you?" His tone's pleased, though, as
if he found the trick clever as well. "I'm not good enough in the water to
plot dastardly revenge," he admits, pulling himself up on his hands at the
edge of the pool, water sheeting from his chest. "You'd have to help me."
Volath lowers his head as well, drawing in his wings before stepping down
off of the rock and into the pool. Arching his sun-dappled neck to echo
Lysseth's posture, he rumbles in his chest, sending soft vibrations through
the water. An almost-human back and forth shaking of his head comes next
and he draws his head up high in a bronzed effort at a snit.

"I did have a hunch she'd aim for Volath," Kassi admits, teeth flashing as
she grins. "Nay? Oh, now that's a shame. But let me see what I can suggest.
You could splash me from the water, a'course, as Volath did; an arm-sweep
would be best, methinks--or you could wait 'til I get in the water and
splash me then. You could also attempt t'pull me *into* the water since I'm
standing so foolishly near the rim," although one might note that she
doesn't back away, after saying this. "You're well-positioned for that now,
might be able t'grab m'leg or arm either one, but be warned that I'd
probably try t'drag you down *with* me. Either road, we're talking complete
warfare from there." Still laughing however silently, Lysseth flicks tail
and glides closer to the bronze, graceful in the water, to aim a gentle
nosing at the warm hide of his neck. Is he really so very, terribly miffed?

V'lano begins laughing about halfway through Kassima's suggestions,
protesting, "No, no, I meant Lysseth - " But he leans down off of the rim,
dropping back into the water and sliding along the stone wall the short
space it takes to put him within an arm's span of one of those ankles. He
pops up from the water again, stabilizing himself with feet against the
interior of the pool, and reaches out - but does not grab, holding the
position while tilting his head back and up to grin at the greenrider.
"Complete warfare. You know, I'm not sure I'm prepared for a match with 
you - " Besides, Volath's going to be no help. He's -not- so very, terribly
miffed; his head's already coming back down, great neck curving tightly to
offer a heated breath over the tips of her headknobs, won over again, even
unknowing quite why.

Kassima allows at once, "Oh, well, *her*--there's scarcely a thing as
revenge against her. For a satisfactory revenge you'd have t'get her to
admit she'd been bested. Good *luck*." Her voice is affectionate, however,
in speaking of her lifemate, and the grin she throws the green over her
shoulder might suggest she doesn't entirely disapprove. She shifts her foot
a bit closer and comments, "Well, 'twill never know if'n you don't try,
will you? Unless you're afraid." She makes a show of narrowing her eyes in
suspicion, but it's pure tease: good-humored, utterly lacking in barbs. "As
would be only right. We're terrifying creatures, greenriders." Less
terrifying are greens, apparently: Lysseth's not being frightful at all,
what with the soft crooning and the gentle nip--there!--of a neckridge.
Kassi looks over her shoulder again and says, wry but entertained too,
"Dragons."

Volath practically purrs at that nip, wondering half-'aloud' in
light-and-dark glistening at what he's done to deserve such attention from
the green. V'lano listens attentively, head backtilted and face rapt, as
Kassima educates him on the matters of seizing the moment - and, when she
turns her attention away to remark on their lifemates' kind, the moment for
seizing is right there, in front of him, in brilliant and lucid color. He
takes it: the hand flashes out the few inches further, fingers making a
grab at the nearest ankle, prepared completely for the tug that will bring
the wingleader tumbling into the drink.

Lysseth's mind only ripples with laughter, deeper blues and hints of
night's black amid the crystal. It may be that her memory is keener;
perhaps more likely, that she's long practiced in accessing rider's recall,
and so has memories of image to share as explanation: flight, chase,
capture, all strewn about with stars. Distracted by the perennial need to
shake her head at Lysseth's foibles, Kassi's easily ensnared and, pulled,
falls with a yelp of startled laughter and a great splash indeed. But she's
true to her word: as soon as she can, she attempts to snag hold of *him*,
to pull him underwater long enough to assure that he receives the drenching
he is due.

Volath responds with starlit surprise, but a little investigation reveals
some recollection on his behalf as well - borrowed, likewise, and therefore
interrupted by the startled thoughts of a young man being dunked soundly
into hot water. The bronze shifts lazily in the water, putting a broad wing
nearer the green and twitching it open as if to offer an awning over her
body, and turning his gaze down toward the humans. V'lano, coming up
fighting, begins laughing as soon as he's broken surface, gasping between
laughs for air. "Sorry," he says, not sounding sorry at all, "I couldn't
resist!"

Lysseth ducks her head and swims until she's nestled under that wing: don't
mind if she does, and now it's only a shame that Pern has not invented
dragon-sized tubs of popcorn for them to munch while they watch this
entertainment so kindly provided them. Kassima lets go as he surfaces,
catching her own breath and grinning widely and most unrepentantly in
answer: "Couldn't you just! But I got m'revenge, didn't I, and now we're
close to even, though methinks you *might* merit a sound splashing too
a'fore the scales balance." She poises herself to deliver such a splashing,
but refrains for the moment, her dark green eyes dancing.

Volath practically exudes smugness: look who has the all-powerful Lysseth
in his arm! Er, wing. "Hey! Volath splashed you, not me!" But V'lano's
grinning, and a low puff of breath from the bronze in question is
accompanied by the suggestion that he may not have been a lone splasher.
"Besides, you -tempted- me, standing there just within reach like that."
But since the rider's already visibly braced for another toss of water,
it's believable he's expecting his due.

Evidently such smugness pleases or at least amuses the all-powerful
Lysseth, since rather than offer any challenge she simply leans in against
Volath's side and is perhaps just a bit smug herself. "But *you* pulled me
into the water!" Kassi protests in tones of righteous mock-indignation, and
never mind who exactly suggested that. "Tempted you, did I. And nay blame
at all for succumbing t'temptation. Feh." But while she does aim the
threatened splash at him, it's a gentle one as such things go, and she's
laughing silently as she sends it.

He ducks a bit, but takes the oncoming wavelet along the side of his face
and shoulder gamely enough. "All right, all right, I'm sufficiently paid
back," he declares, then kicks toward the edge of the pool, which brings
the 'audience' into his view. "Well, aren't they cozy," he chuckles,
finally catching on, while Volath rumbles pleasantly at his rider's
contribution to a refreshed memory of his surprising success in the
nighttime sky. V'lano hefts himself out onto the edge of the pool and leans
aside to catch up a towel, which he naturally puts into his hair first,
that being undoubtedly the most important part to get dry. "Maybe I'll
leave him here to get his fair share of satisfaction in."

"And you met your fate with honor, too," Kassi approves, once more
amused--although whether she's stopped being amused at any point is
arguable. "Oh, aye. *Dragons*. But it means they're nay splashing us, hey?
And that's something." She takes up a place where she can lean against a
rim, evidently intending to get her soaking done; she says, "Can you get
back without him? Lyss will probably be pleased enough t'stay under his
wing as long as he likes, shameless creature, but 'twould be a shame if'n
you had t'sleep curled in the snowy Bowl like some orphan child out of
Harper ballad. Oh, woe."

"I bet I can find someone to 'elevator' me," V'lano smirks, "I have a deal
going with - one of the others." His head's tossed back in a reversed nod
at the dragons behind him, certainly indicating one more than the other,
while finishing his towelling-off and getting up to walk - carefully on the
still-damp stone - toward his clothes. "Assuming she didn't get tapped
since I saw her last," he grins, pausing in donning trousers to lift his
head and share that smirky look with the greenrider. "What about you? Going
to stay here?"

Kassima laughs and asks, "Does he leave you stranded often, then? Oh,
shame, shame," but the mournfulness of her headshake Volath's way is
decidedly exaggerated. "--Careful; the stone's slick. What's your half of
that deal, or shouldn't I ask--that was the plan," she admits with a grin,
head turned so she can look over at him. "Seemed the best idea for how
t'get *warm* in this iceland. But now you make me wonder if'n I mightn't
have trouble talking Her Ladyship out of the water either."

"Ah ah ah," is the warning accompanying a waggling finger, requiring a
pause in lacing his shirt to make the gesture. He grins, though, and
finishes up dressing while she goes past the topic of the other half of the
deal and into her plans for the night. At which, the door open, he offers
with much hesitance, some of it likely affected: "We-ell, I could give up
my bed and sleep in his couch if you'd like to come with - or hey,"
softening the first offer with the lesser and second, "I bet my deal would
extend to asking for a lift for someone else, you know. To your own weyr."
He does -not- nibble slightly his lower lip while waiting on response.
Insistently, he does not do so.

Kassima makes a face at him and mutters, "You're nay fun 'tall," with no
sincerity at all and indeed something almost like pride. He learns well,
does this one. She tips her head to one side at the offer, both offers, and
before answering either twists about to brace herself against the rim of
the pool and pull herself up and out; when sure of her footing, she says,
"Y'know, that might be a better course--and the first sounds less trouble
for your deal-partner," she muses, walking carefully towards where she left
her own things. "So long as said deal-partner isn't Roberta." She slants a
look sidelong as she reaches for her shirt. "A'course, I'd hate t'do you
out of your bed. That seems rather rude behavior for a guest."

The bronzer's posture relaxes a smidgin at this, though he's quick to put
up flat palms and protest reassuringly, "Not Roberta." He moves a little
closer, crossing arms over his chest in a manner that presses wrinkles into
his dampened shirt, and looks off toward the -dragons- sharing whatever
companionship their jointly borrowed memories allow, not to mention a view
of their humans making whatever complicit deal to allow that companionship
to continue a while. Presenting the physical image of absorption in that
idyllic draconic scene, he notes, "I figure we can work something out once
we're up there. It's not the most comfortable weyr ever - but it's not what
M'tri had while he was still in the wing," he adds with a dry grin.
"There's tricks to make it comfortable, and I bet it will suit for two."

Kassima exchanges her towel for tunic, trousers, and boots, though her
hair--which when unbraided as now and damp besides brushes against her
calves--is wet enough that the second towel she drapes around her shoulders
doesn't protect her clothing from damp much. When reasonably attired, she
wraps belt and knife-sheaths and such into a bundle and turns to take a
look at their lifemates herself. Although she once again laughs at the
picture presented, the sound is quiet and fond. "If'n 'tis that bad, we
could be asking your deal-partner t'take us both t'mine," she offers, still
looking dragonwards, "but I confess, I'm rather intrigued now by what
tricks those might be." And now her eyes do flick to him, mouth-corner
curving upwards.

He has the sense to flush a little at the calling-out of his subtext - but
his lips quirk, unable to resist the smile creeping onto them, and he can
only cover with a soft cough of confession. "I've had some time to think on
it," he admits, the color fading from his cheeks but holding firm in his
ear. He sidesteps to get close enough to crook an elbow for the wingleader
in a manner he's wont to do, on many well-witnessed occasions, for a
certain blond-haired clutchsib's rider. "Shall we leave them in peace?"

Kassima can't quite resist the impulse to murmur, "I imagine so," smile
widening a trace for the blush. She shifts her bundle so that it's held
under the other arm, and lays her hand on the escort-arm so generously
offered. "I vote we do," she agrees with a full-out smile now, and gestures
with her other hand towards the exit. "Lead on."