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You May Already Have Won


Date:  April 13, 2001
Places:  Telgar Weyr's Lake Shore, Central Bowl, Southern Bowl, and
Records Room
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 admit, I stole this title from a magical cantrip 
featured in Esther Friesner's brilliant _Unicorn U._:  "We may already
have won!  We may already have won!  Void where prohibited, not sold
in any store, we may already have won!"  It seemed oddly apt. ;)  In
this log, Kassi first displays her gambling prowess by betting on a
flight and winning; she then displays her evil prowess by intoxicating
two helpless young Fortian visitors.  What sort of victory could 
possibly make a suitable finale?  An answer is provided, but it's
not quite one she was expecting (no pun intended).

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The Log:

Alessandra heads over from the central bowl.

L'nan heads over from the central bowl.

L'nan is walking, holding a glass of wine in one hand. "I don't know how
you do it, with those shoes," he's telling Alessi. Spotting Kassima, he
waves, looking slightly relieved. Not that he was in any way nervous at
beign with a proddy Alessi, noooo.

Whoosh. Plink. A line is cast; ripples ensue; a green dragon looks on with
vague amusement. And Kassi settles herself for Yet Another Hour of
Unsuccessful Fishing--though she does pause mid-settle to turn on her
rock-perch and wave amiably to the newcomers. "Duties t'Fort and her
queens, bluerider... oh, Alessi, g'deve. Nice knives." Trust her to notice
those first.

Alessandra prowls after L'nan, walking (amazingly enough) more or less
steadily in those four-inch-high chunky heels. "Kassima," she states by way
of greeting, clutching a wine glass in her hand. "More?" she asks L'nan,
eyeing his wineglass predatorialy. Lenka was smart. She got away. "I like
them too, Kassi." Wise, wise Kassi to compliment her on the knives.

L'nan switches his wineglass to the hand that's farther from Alessi. "No,
no.. thanks, though." He turns and grins at Kassima. "Fort's duties
t'Telgar, too, ma'am. I'm L'nan, blue Alirath's," he introduces quickly.
It's followed by a look back at the knives, however briefly followed by a
shudder.

"All things considered, I'm nay surprised that you do," Kassi agrees
blithely, and blessedly vaguely. "But what have I told you about trying
t'get visitors drunk? You do that *after* flights. After. Nay a'fore." She
darts a quick wink to L'nan to assure that she's jesting and then replies
amiably, "We've met, although I believe your knot was different then.
Kassima, green Lysseth's. Ma'am me again and 'twill wrap this fishing line
'round your neck and pull hard; that's a term for the old or the
respectable." The lurking dark green shape in the water rumbles her amusement.

Alessandra, apparently soothed by Kassima's blithe response, settles down
on a rock and crosses her legs at the knee. "And Kassi's not old or
respectable. Though she fights well." Kassima is eyed, Alessi's dark eyes
reflecting an almost predatory look. "And is pretty too. So there." No, no
one is safe.

L'nan looks from one to the other, one with knives, one threatening his
life with a fishing line. And him, with a glass of wine. He finishes its
contents, then sets it down quickly in the sand, sitting. "Right, I think
we /have/ met," he nods to Kassima. "An' I'm not a weyrling anymore. We
graduated the other night!" It's said a trifle proudly, and he glances
again from one woman to the other.

Kassima, mercifully, does set down that fishing line in order to turn and
fully face the others; of course, that just makes the knives at *her* belt
all the more visible. She starts to make a moue of pleased modesty at
Alessi's first expression... but has to freeze mid-moue at the second. "Um.
Well, thankee, Alessi; good of you t'say so. You were here with another
rider and visiting with Tarlo, methinks, L'nan?" No, she doesn't switch
subjects rapidly at all, why? "Felicitations on the graduation. Always a
big moment in a rider's life, that: nay longer can they get away with half
as much sloppiness, but at least they can drink. I've heard Miritha's a
good Wingleader t'be having."

Alessandra continues to watch Kassima, rather mercifully (for him)
forgetting about L'nan for the moment. She never -has- really looked at
Kassi...

L'nan's eyes do flicker to Kassi's knives, though he manages to school his
facial expression into a bland smile. "Yep, Tarlo, an' I think it was V'lin
was with me, one've my wingmates. An' MIri's great," he agrees quickly.
"I'm in her wing now, Firefall." Proudness, again, though he looks from
woman to woman, curious.

Kassima twitches. Just a bit. She fidgets, and adjusts a sleeve, and
generally tries to ignore Alessi. That does seem the safest course. "If'n
so, I didn't meet him," she admits with a wrinkled nose. "A shame; methinks
I saw his mother Impress, and I'm always curious about such folk... aye, I
saw the badge." Flashing a grin, she adds, "I rather like Miritha. She
knows even more about draconic bloodlines than I do... and oh, by the by,
y'needn't worry on one account: *I'm* nay proddy. Won't be again for quite
some time." Maybe she misinterpreted that curious look? Or maybe it was the
bland smile.

Alessandra grins wickedly, then lifts her chin and sniffs, eyes flashing
once more. "I'm not proddy either. I don't -get- proddy." Just keep tellin'
yourself that, Alessi. Dark eyes glare at L'nan's unoffending wine glass
again, gauging the amount left in the glass. "More?"

L'nan grins slightly. "Whew, that's good. Two proddy..." He hears Alessi
and pauses, trying to think of a way to phrase himself. "Uh, that's good,"
eh finally decides. He glances down at the glass, and shakes his head. "No
thanks, if that's all right, Alessi.. I think I've had enough, really..."
He keeps glancin between the two women, then, as if he can't help himself,
asks Alessi, "If you're not proddy how come Kiyoth's so cranky?"

Kichevio heads over from the central bowl.

Telgar Weyr> Nimiriel says, "Okay, all the greenies make this a very scary
knot. :)"

Telgar Weyr> Kichevio bats her eyes. Who, _us_? ;)

Telgar Weyr> Nimiriel says, "Yes, you. :)"

Telgar Weyr> Alessandra turns on her K-Mart halo.

Kichevio takes in the scene as she approaches the lake, trying very hard
not to smile. "Evening Kassi, Alessi, L'nan." The look she gives the young
bluerider is mildly sympathetic. "Do you need rescuing?"

Telgar Weyr> Aisling paints Daelyth a nice shade of forest green. there. ;)

Alessandra glowers darkly at L'nan. "She's /not/ proddy." Ooh, new victim.
"Kichevio, you look amazing tonight..." Purrrr. Then, those purple eyes
blaze again, watching Kichevio. "And just who would L'nan need rescuing
from, hmm?"

"A'course nay, if'n you say nay," Kassi soothes. "Did you want something
other than wine for yourself, Alessi? If'n you can drink--I suppose if'n
you're nursing Ilessa... but I've a small stock of stronger liquors with
me." Of course she does. Tilting her head towards her dragon, she assures
dryly, "If'n she were proddy she'd let you know. Trust me." Kichevio gets
waved to.

Kichevio shrugs innocently. "Just a thought. I figure if he needs rescuing,
he'll ask." Or perhaps he won't risk annoying the Chick in Chainmail. Kich
certainly doesn't want to. "You look great tonight, Alessi."

L'nan turns to look at Kichevio with a grin, half nervous, half amused, and
something of a bit of fear in there too. "Uh, rescue?" Yes, yes, yes! his
face seems to say. "No, of course not," he chuckles instead, eyes darting
from knives of the other women and back to Kich. "How's, uh.. Saulith doing?"

Alessandra beams back at Kassima, shaking her head. "Nah, it's -special-
wine that I have." At Kichevio's compliment, she fairly preens, turning in
a small circle for Kichevio to view the entire outfit.

Kichevio dutifully admires. "You make me wish I'd thought of that outfit
first. As it is, I'll have to borrow it sometime." She sits down
comfortably beside L'nan. "Saulith's doing great, as usual. And once she
got back to normal, she complimented Alirath's flying extensively."

L'nan can't help but watch, not /too/ wide-eyed, at Alessi's twirling and
showing off. Hey, he's a _guy_. At Kichevio's words though, he grins
cheerfully. "Alirath was tellin' me the whole time how he could keep up,
an' he was actually.. having fun, I think," he admits, cheeks reddening
only slightly. "Well, 'til the end." Another flush, and he shrugs slightly,
looking down at his hands.

"If'n 'twould fit," Kassi observes. "It looks rather, ah, custom-tailored,
t'be saying the least. The flight went well, then?" Wickedly, "K'ran and
Indrath didn't have any complaints? Though I don't imagine they would.
That's the beauty of won flights... which," she assures L'nan, "you'll find
out soon enough, if'n you've nay yet."

Alessandra smirks at both L'nan and Kichevio, then suddenly twitches. Just
once. "Um. Not now, Kiyoth."

Kichevio pats L'nan's shoulder, smiling wryly. "That's what wine and cold
water are for, the afterwards. But for his first chase, Alirath did great.
Saulith can be a tough act to follow." She grins at Kassi. "He didn't
complain. Possibly because he didn't have enough breath to..." She looks
alertly at Alessi then. Time to stand back?

If he can, L'nan turns redder, at each woman's words. He frowns slightly at
Alessi's, and straightens. "Shells, now?" He looks towards the bowl as if
thinking of retreat, then sighs a little, eyes darting to watch Alessandra.
"I haven't, yet, no," he adds to Kassima vaguely.

Kassima pantomimes raising a glass in toast to Kich. "Well-flown,
then--uh-oh." Giving Alessi a shrewd once-over, she sighs. "And me without
any munchies." Turning to L'nan, she wonders conversationally, "I don't
suppose you'd care t'lay a wager on who flies her, hey? Or you, Kich?"

Alessandra glares at all and sundry, then whirls and goes flying away from
the lake shore. "KIYOTH! I said NOT NOW! Blast you!"

"I'd have to see who's chasing," Kichevio answers. "And see if I have a
mark or something to bet." She calmly raises her voice over Alessi's
retreat. "Alirath might pull it off this time..."

Alessandra heads in the direction of the central bowl, leaving the
shimmering lake.

L'nan watches Alessi even as she darts off, and groans slightly, dropping
forhead to his knees. "Don't bet, don't bet," he mutters. "I can't bet..
well, shells, why not? I'd bet on Alirath. Shardin' right he could," he
adds, gaining bravery perhaps from the wine, from Alirath... who knows? He
looks up at Kich. "A mark?" He turns to include Kassi in the bet, too.

Kassima quips after Alessi's fleeing back, "As if'n that *ever* works...
welladay, just let me know. You and I aren't apt t'be storming off for the
Guest Weyr any time soon." Her features blossom in a smile at the magic
words. "A mark," she grants grandly. "And if'n you win, for once I won't
even be too terribly distraught. G'luck, hey?"

Kichevio digs in her pocket, and offers a quarter-mark. "This is what I
have, but it's on Alirath. Luck, L'nan."

"I'm going t'be a pauper if'n he wins," Kassi mock-grumbles. "And all in
the name of fostering the gambling spirit. Still, bet taken all the same."

L'nan grins, standing carefully. "I, uh.. better go. An' thanks," he tells
Kichevio weakly. "Bettin' on me... you're wherry crazy." With that, a wink
for each of the ladies, and a squaring of shoulders, he strides to follow
where Alessi's disappeared to.

L'nan heads in the direction of the central bowl, leaving the shimmering lake.

Kichevio laughs softly at Kassima. "You have sacksfull of marks stashed
away in your weyr, that's a known fact. Don't try to pass yourself off as a
pauper."

Kassima demurs, "Most of those sackfuls are for m'children more than *my*
use... though I may have just one sack or two. Small ones. Really."
Complete innocence colors her expression. "Besides, 'twasn't so *very* long
agone--all right, nigh five Turns, but still--that I spent all those marks
on that auction at Weavercraft, hey? I'm well nigh poverty-stricken. Really
I am."

"Poor, poor Kassi," Kichevio drawls. "Whatever _shall_ you do, with only a
few sacks of marks to sustain you. You'll just have to make a few more bets
on I'sai's spawn and my--" She coughs loudly before she says the next words
"--possible pregnancy."

"*Your* possible pregnancy." Kassi repeats that slowly, after a cough of
her own. And again: "Your possible *pregnancy*... from K'ran, I trust, or
someone else? Shardit, this Wing's going t'be lacking *any* active
personnel--"

Kichevio coughs again, muffling the "Oh Faranth NO!" that Kassi's comment
elicited. Then proceeds to clarify things. "I'm not. Not even from K'ran's
bronzerider tendencies. But I'd heard the betting pool on that particular
event was getting larger by the sevenday.

Kassima admits without hesitation but with a good deal of relief, "The
stakes are running high; a fair number are certain you've jinxed yourself,
saying all the time how you'll *never* spawn. A few are sure you'd make
sure *nay* to, lest you incur Tarlo's wrath." She does not, note, mention
where *her* bets might be. "Good t'know, that you're nay... we're already
going t'be a bit handicapped this Turn, and we did just get Alessi back.
Nay that I'll nay be thrilled if'n you spawn some other day, mind!"

Kichevio shakes her head. "My Secret Tea has worked perfectly for seven
Turns, and I have no plans to discontinue it now. Besides, K'ran has enough
complicating his life without _another_ flight baby...who else is out? I
know I should try and keep track, but things've been hectic."

Kichevio adds belatedly, "Or are you going to be grounded a little longer,
with whatever you or Lysseth sprained?"

"Probably for awhile longer," Kassi agrees, bobbing her head. "Nay
precisely sure how long. I trust the Healers will tell me... and then
there's Leya, with her clutchsire duties; nay as debilitating as pregnancy,
but 'tis still nay great news t'have a Wingleader and Wingsecond both
somewhat out of action. Jirel's recovering from another long trip
*between*, but at least that's brief. Did I hear right that K'ran now has a
wee daughter?"

Kichevio nods. "According to Tarlo, yes, and her name is Rani. I can't
believe they managed to avoid sticking a K in there somewhere, but..." She
shrugs. "Oh well, we _do_ have Alessi back...and you and T'kar can keep us
flying. If T'kar doesn't fall asleep mid-drill."

Kassima mourns, "'Twas *so* hoping they'd name her Kiki." And the truly
terrifying thing is that it's well-nigh impossible to tell whether she's
serious or not. "Rani. Hmm. Lacks spice, nay a name I'd choose, but so long
as they're happy with it and she doesn't want t'kill 'em for it when she
grows up. If'n T'kar falls asleep in *any* drill, I'll drop hot embers down
his pants in punishment."

Kichevio grimaces at the name. "Too late, A'ser's already christened me
with that, despite all my threats. And Meri might object to that sort of
punishment. Paint Fasolth green and set L'cher and Leerth on him instead."

"I'll put ice down her pants if'n she does object," Kassi decides
whimsically. "And then I will run. Run fast, and run far. Oh, *please* tell
me this means A'ser's transferred his odd affections on t'you? That'd just
make my day. Absolutely and totally."

Kichevio scowls a bit at the conjunction of "A'ser" and "affections". "I
really don't know...he just insists on calling me 'Kiikii. Which I suppose
isn't all _that_ bad. He hasn't sicced that Scarf on me, at any rate."

Kassima heaves a sigh of great frustration. "So he *hasn't* sent you random
strange gifts involving ferrets and underclothing, and proclaimed love in
the Living Cavern. Shardit. 'Twas hoping, as long as I've been hiding from
him, that he might've found a *new* victim... though there's still some
hope, isn't there? Even if'n 'tisn't you?"

Kichevio winces, eyes growing wider. "Ferrets? Underclothing? Now _I'll_
have to avoid him, too." Blink. "No, Saulith, you may not have a pet
ferret..."

"Very scanty underclothing," Kassi mutters in misery. "The ferret at least
wasn't quite so scanty. She's a pet for m'eldest son now, and he adores
her, so at least *that* part turned out all right. They're nay good rider
pets, though. Too apt t'destroy things."

"And I have Saulith to do that for me, so why would I need a ferret?"
Kichevio says dryly. "Brownriders make more fun pets anyway." Ooooops, did
she say that out loud?

Yes, she did. Kassi's eyebrows go up. "Any brownriders in particular? I've
heard things about at least two I could think of. One from High Reaches,
one from Ista...."

Kichevio doesn't blush; that wouldn't be Kichevio-like. But she can't
contain a grin. "One from the 'Reaches, yes. He happened to see me in my
bikini and--" She shrugs innocently. "I didn't have to say a word."

Kassima groans and rolls her eyes towards the heavens, making a show of
mock-distress. Or mock-disgust. One of those. "Good *Faranth*, woman,
you're going t'have all the lads of Pern panting at Telgar's gates if'n
you're nay watching it, and how will we ever *feed* them all?"

Kichevio doesn't seem at all discomfited by that thought, and just smiles
benignly. "I'll only wear the bikini in front of certain lucky ones, I
promise. And if you see any one you like, you can have him." There.
Generosity to the Wingleader.

Kassima bows low in sardonic gratitude. "*Too* kind." While fishing a mint
stick from her pocket, she adds, "Especially given that you know ruddy well
that's bloody unlikely. What were you doing wearing a bikini at the
*'Reaches*? Isn't that a good way t'be freezing off your assets?"

Kichevio laughs. "I wasn't at the 'Reaches--he was here. Said he'd come to
try out the famous Telgar steam baths. So I offered to show him around. And
I couldn't very well soak in the baths in my _leathers_, so--"

Indrath flies in from above and lands in the waters of the lake.

"Now I'm surprised t'be hearing you're one who doesn't soak in the
altogether," Kassi comments, folding up her legs to tuck her chin atop her
knees. "I've naught against prudishness; I can't imagine bathing without
clothing m'self, but 'twouldn't have thought 'twould bother you. Nay
offense meant by that, mind... ooh, boy." That would, yes, be said as
Indrath appears. "Must be nigh the end of that flight."

Indrath's descent is swift and sure for the cool lake waters, and he
settles into them indelicately -- soaking, particularly, that strained
wingjoint.

"I _bathe_ in the altogether," Kichevio confirms that. "I _soak_ either
bare or bikini'd. I find men enjoy borh views." She watches Indrath favor
his wing with a little concern. "He shouldn't push himself. Saulith says he
says he's fine, though."

Lysseth has the sense to glide/drift further towards the other end of the
lake, the better to avoid being splashed--or crowding, if one wants to
bring manners into it. She rumbles low greetings; Kassi shakes her head.
"Saying a male shouldn't push himself in a flight is like saying... like
saying... like saying L'cher shouldn't leer. That works. He looks well,
though, for one just out of a flight." Slanting a look towards Kich, she
just has to ask: "D'you always worry about what men enjoy?"

Kichevio answers simply, "That's second, right after what _I_ enjoy."

Kassima nods in satisfaction. "Ah, so. That's as it should be--at least,
your enjoyment first. Or second after duty, but that's a given and rarely
comes up in soaking."

Kichevio laughs softly. "I've never found soaking a _duty_. Unless I'm only
soaking because I'm washing Saulith and she's in a playful mood."

Kassima supposes, reaching for her fishing rod to toy absently with its
end, "Soaking can be a duty when the Healers prescribe it. Often is for
muscle strains, say." She flicks a sympathetic look Indrath-wards as she
says this. "But when there's pleasure in duty, all's well enough."

Kichevio agrees. "It is--and there's usually some pleasure to be found in
any duty..." Her voice trails off, and she sighs ruefully. "Tovith caught
Kiyoth. You win _again_." She tosses her quarter-mark over with a sigh of
regret.

"Say that after you've had t'be placating a Holder L'cher's offended by
knocking up his daughter," Kassi advises, even as she neatly snags that
mark out of the air. Ah-hah, so *that's* her secret at mark-catching. She's
had practice! "Greenriders always win, Kich. One way or another!"

Kichevio laughs, eyes dancing. "So we do. If only the poor maleriders could
remember that fact!"

Kassima holds up her hands as though to ward off a horror. "Perish the
*thought*! How would we get the best of them then? They'd always see us
coming and run off, and shardit if'n that'd be any fun 'tall."

Kichevio pretends to think that over, then nods solemnly. "Very true.
Better to back them into a corner and lull them into a false sense of
security, _then_ pounce."

"And be sure t'take all their marks," Kassi must needs throw in. "Either
a'fore you pounce or after."

K'ryn heads over from the central bowl.

L'nan heads over from the central bowl.

Wandering along with L'nan, his riding jacket open as if to help him cool
off, K'ryn makes his way to the shore, looking more tired, now, than
anything else. In one hand hangs a half-empty wineskin, very likely the
direct cause, at least, of his current condition. "Ah well, maybe next
time, L'nan," the young rider murmurs, to his companion, not having noticed
the two women near the lake as of yet.

Kichevio rolls her eyes at Kassi. "You're better at taking their marks than
I am." She watches the two young blueriders approach, and offers politely,
"The cold water's right there--and Kassi may have wine or something
alcoholic. I don't."

L'nan walks out behind K'ryn, mug in one hand, wineskin in the other. Wine
in a mug? Dignified, he is. And drunk, yes. Very drunk. "Kich! Kassima! You
win. I owe y'two marks. Or somethin'." He snorts in response to K'ryn's
statement.

Kassima is still seated on that rock near the Lake's shore; her fishing rod
is set to the side, her dragon is still out in the water, and her hand is
rummaging in her pocket for a mint stick. When this treasure is found, she
tucks it neatly into her cheek. "I should be," she muffles out around the
candy. "I've had enough practice." Following the other greenrider's gaze,
she confirms, "I've things on hand, aye, if'n you need--you two all right?
And 'tis just one mark, L'nan. I can wait 'til you're sober t'be
collecting, I promise." She manages to say that with a straight face, too.

K'ryn isn't quite so drunk, but there's an obvious sway, to his step, of
someone who's at least a little... loosened. "I think we've got it
covered," he assures, then, holding up his own skin, and shaking it a bit.
You think a mug's undignified? He doesn't bother with the mug at all.
Straight from the skin is good enough for me. "I'm fine." A wave of his
hand, at the last, to dismiss the whole matter as if it were yesterday's
bad news.

Kichevio points to her Wingleader. "Kassi has my money--although if you can
get it back from her, I'd be eternally grateful." She keeps a weather eye
on L'nan, lest he sway right into her or a rock or something.

L'nan stands still... well, all right. L'nan stands in one spot, and the
wine's done it's duty. A bleary smile reaches his lips as he turns to
consider Kassima. "Owe you, owe Kich. Marks marks marks." Yes,
L'nan-babble. Very productive. "I'm not fine. I'm... full of wine," he
remarks, thoughtful. "Wanna share?" He holds out the skin generously to the
two women. "Share."

Kassima eyes Kich rather as though the younger greenrider has gone mad.
"Men. Getting money. From *me*." She snorts. "Riiiiight. Pull the other
one, Kich; bells and all." Eyeing that 'skin, she agrees dubiously, "Well,
if'n you're sure... just say the word if'n you decide you'd rather have
something stronger." Though she gives the offered wine an almost longing
look, the greenrider slowly shakes her head. "Wish I could, but I can't.
*Kich* can. Drink the wine, will you, Kich?"

Kichevio wrinkles her nose. "That? Faranth, no. Wine tastes awful. But
we'll watch _you_ two drink." She waves toward the open shore. "Have a seat
and drown your sorrows." Implied 'before you tip over."

Glancing sidelong at his own wingmate, K'ryn grins a little. Aw, L'nan is
sloshed. In his own less than totally sober view, this is a great deal more
amusing than it would be normally. Kassima yanks his attention right back,
though, and he eyes his skin, and her, in turn. "Something stronger, you
say? I'm in. L'nan's drunk already and I'm missing all the fun. Better
catch up." As Kich instructs, he goes to plop down, still offering up his
wineskin in case anyone wants a sip.

L'nan narrows his eyes at Kassima. "Won't have my wine?" he repeats,
frowning. "Why'nt? Whatcha got's so much better?" He takes a small step
towards Kassi, then turns to smile largely at Kichevio. "No fun t'watch's
drink. Mebbe we should swim?" The two thoughts are connected, somehow, in
the haze that is now L'nan's brain.

"Right-o; there's the spirit!" is Kassi's enthused approval, and she
unfolds her legs to slide down from the rock, onto the ground where her
dragon's straps lie. There's faint splashing behind her as Lysseth swims
close to watch this procedure. "Let's see now. I know I put it in here
somewhere... ah, right, *here*." A mid-sized box is lifted out, and she
sets it down before opening it to reveal an array of small bottles. "Choose
your poison. I've got White Lightning, Black Gold, Nabolese firewater, the
Bottle if'n you're *truly* daring, and a few other random things. Take what
you like, drink what you need." She straightens and steps back once.
"Healer's orders," is her unspecific reply. "Or I'd drink gladly. Help
yourselves, and swim if'n you like, only try nay t'drink yourselves to the
drowning point first."

Kichevio winces again, although she does peer over Kassi's shoulder to
examine the poisons in question. "I've heard things about that Bottle..."

"It didn't *really* kill a man," Kassi murmurs to Kich in an aside. "Only
knocked him unconscious. Really. Though K'nan did turn purple...."

What a selection. K'ryn, already sitting, has to sort of scoot and crawl a
bit, to drag himself over to the box and peer inside. Oh, so many
nummy-looking things. "The bottle?" The young rider peers a little more
closely, then glances back at Kichevio, as she seems to hold some clue
about this mysterious beverage. Then, looking back, he goes a little
wide-eyed. "Purple?" Well, that settles it, and he goes for the Nabolese
stuff instead, grabbing the bottle, opening it, and taking a quick slug.
Muuuuuuuuuuuch better.

L'nan mumbles to himself, "Black light, purple healers... what kinda
drinks're these?" He minces his way over to peer down at the box, taking a
gulp of wine or three before kneeling. Kneeling in the state he's in, most
fall over, but L'nan balances on his toes, precariously wobbling forward
and back. "S'one." He points to a darker bottle to the left. "Whatsit?"

Kichevio watches K'ryn to make sure he doesn't burst into flame, answering
Kassi with "Sorry I missed that. Bet he clashed with Veyath--oh boy." She
waits with bated breath to hear about this newest concoction.

Kassima bends to tap a vial of some sort of blue-green liquid. This one,
oddly, is corked with metal. "What's In the Bottle for long. Just a little
something I brew up for the proddy and flight lost and generally insane."
Grinning broadly at the drink choice, she watches with interest: will K'ryn
survive? Will the firewater vote him off the island? "Toxic ones," is her
sweet-voiced reply to L'nan. "That one? Hrm... oh, that's the Thunderbolt
drink. Still in the experimental stages. I haven't gotten the right shade
of purple... but you're more'n welcome t'be trying it."

Stith flies in from above and lands in the waters of the lake.

From atop Stith, Aluren argues up at Stith's smugly warbling head "Okay, we
are here. Happier now? Shards!"

Saulith lumbers in from the central bowl.

K'ryn promptly bursts... no wait. The tall young rider does make something
of a face, before holding up the bottle to regard it a little more
curiously. Then another, longer pull. He may be a rookie rider, but he's
had some experience with the drink, it would seem. "Ahhh, thas notbad,"
K'ryn pronounces, then, before turning his eyes to the box again. "For the
flight lost, y'say? Maybe we should try some of that, then."

Aluren unstraps herself from Stith's back, and slides down her forelimb to
the ground.

Kichevio muses idly, "Now, a Thunderbolt drink I might try, just to show
solidarity. But not yet." She waves up at the new greenrider. "Welcome to
Telgar. Come to take these two home?" Designated Flyers are always useful.

"Oh, feel free," Kassi encourages, a bit too eagerly. "I always like seeing
the reactions t'that one. They're always so different." This is never, ever
a good sign. "I plan t'be having a drinking party of some kind t'try it out
when 'tis ready, Kich. Promise. Duties t'Fort and her queens," she adds
with a belated grin and wave towards the newcomer.

L'nan is peering down at Kassima's selection of poison-drinks, brows
furrowed. "Thunderbolt. Mm. Purple. Good." He picks up the bottle, holding
it up to peer some more. "K." He unscrews the cap and sniffs, his eyes
watering slightly. It's the wind, really. He turns in a circle to smile a
goofy smile at Aluren, then lifts the bottle to his lips, tipping head
back. One swallow. Two. Three. And that's all he manages as he drops to a
crouch, sets the bottle down, and stands again, hands at his throat and an
amused look on his face. Silence ensues.

"What flight? Why would I take them home? A what drink?" Aluren is all
questions. K'ryn gets a blank stare and then a smirked "Old sailor
bluerider! What is your excuse L'nan?"

Kichevio watches L'nan. If he doesn't explode, collapse writhing, or turn
into a newt, she'll try the stuff.

Kassima almost bounces on toe-tips, watching. "So what d'you think?" she
prompts. "Is it good? Can you still breathe? Have you lost all feeling
below the neck?" Trying not to laugh, she says, "There's a green risen, and
they're flight-lost; what better time for drinking? Which isn't t'say
you're nay welcome t'sample the liquors if'n you want, too."

K'ryn looks over to watch L'nan drink, and follows Kassi's wave to another
one of his former classmates. "Hey Aluren," he greets, quite loudly, waving
at her, before turning back. "What doesn't kill me," is his next
pronouncement, as the young rider reaches with one long arm to lift 'The
Bottle' and bring it over for inspection. Opened, he takes a sniff, and
then holds it away, scowling. "Wow." Still, ever the brave one, he brings
it back over, pausing with the bottle held near his lips, and then takes a
quick sip. Dun dun dunnnnn.

Stith rumbles at Alirath, turning to find a warm spot near Tavorth.

Kichevio covers her eyes and peeks out from around her fingers. This could
get ugly, yep. "Does he have next of kin you can inform?" she asks Aluren.

Aluren has wide, wite ringed eyes. "I didn't know liquid came in that umm
shade. next of... uh oh!" She steps closer so she can catch the wiry 15
turn old bluerider if the purple stuff makes him fall over.

L'nan spins in a circle to face Kassima again. "If y'ever swallow a
crawler, lemme know." Yes, that thought has a point. What? Don't ask.
"Little iddybiddy crawlers all inside y'arms an'r legs an' in your head."
Hands still at his throat, he winces slightly. "An' they're /hot/ little
shells, too!" He does a little dance - a very uncoordinated, wobbly
movement - over to Aluren. "Caretadance?" Drunk and weird. And L'nan. One
big happy drunk.

Kassima rubs her hands together almost like an evil overlord, or a child
anticipating her Turnover present. This drink has intoxicated greenriders
with one sip, turned another greenrider purple, knocked one man
unconscious, and been accused of being a homicide weapon--what will it do
today? "If'n nay, can I have all his marks?" she asks rather hopefully. And
then, ah, then she outright beams. "*Crawlers* in your head! That's new!
I've caused a new reaction! I have t'be writing down that recipe; I'm sure
I could make it even better with just a bit of tweaking--quick, Kich, d'you
have any hide? Charcoal?" To Aluren, she adds modestly, "I've been working
on trying t'get the right Thunderbolt purple for months. Nay there yet, but
close."

Kichevio takes several _giant_ steps away from that purple drink. "On
second thought, Kassi--no. Not ever." She hands her Wingleader a piece of
hide, though. Anything for a distraction.

Aluren catches the careening L'nan and stumbles to keep their balance as
she dances. "uhh sure, dance". Hauling his arm around her shoulder she
starts a classic 'keep the drunk walking' march. But her baker's heart is
engaged "So it is a recipe? what is different in this batch?"

K'ryn merely sits, looking rather stunned, for a few moments. Then, slowly,
deliberately, he closes the bottle again, and reaches to replace it in the
carrying box. All of this, without much in the way of an outward reaction.
*gasp!* If it looked like he had zoned out, K'ryn suddenly comes back to
life, sucking in a rather long breath and forcing it back out, his eyes
wide. "Strong," he gasps, voice strained, and the muscles of his neck
following suit.

Kassima flashes Kich a quick, grateful smile and fishes a piece of charcoal
from her own pouch. While scribbling, she says around the mint stick still
in her cheek, "This time I increased the amount of White Lightning to about
forty percent, and decreased the firewater t'five, with the red and blue
liquors for color and a dash of something *secret*. Also a bit of whatever
Marcus puts in Bronze Dragons." Somehow, one might get the feeling that
Kassi's brewings aren't a precise science. "It *should* be; that bottle's
two sevendays old. I don't often let it age that long. How about you; can
you still feel your feet?"

Kichevio stays well away from the Amazing Dancing L'nan and the Gasping
Like A Beached Fish K'ryn, not to mention the Scribbling Like A Mad
Scientist Kassi. "Just breathe, K'ryn. And don't make any sudden moves."

TGW-Bowl>> Above, Welcome's replied to with a warble that rings off the
very stones, even as Taralyth sails down into the nighttime sky; down, down
- and, after a pause, curving off towards the star-shimmered lake.

L'nan takes Aluren's waist in his arms, no longer that shy, blushing boy.
To him, anyway, he is now debonaire, suave boy, and he turns and twirls
Aluren around. "Dance," he babbles. "With purple purple recipes..." He
hears Kich's last words and makes a sudden movement, attempting to change
directions. Funny, but his feet keep going even as his torso turns.
Somehow, Aluren remains standing as L'nan sprawls on his back, amazed,
glaring at his feet. "Naw, th'feet're filled with crawlies," he grumbles.

TGW-Bowl>> Above, Taralyth curves down, then flares bright-sparked wings to
stall his landing as he all-but-bounces along stone and sand.

Taralyth flies in from above and lands in the waters of the lake.

Kichevio looks concernedly at the now comatose L'nan. "Or lead," she
murmurs. "You okay, Aluren?"

Blink. Blink. Kichevio's advice seems to be well-taken, and K'ryn, looking
a bit spacy, indeed spends the first few moments just trying to breathe.
And his next utterance? "Feet?" I have feet? His eyes, looking a bit
unfocused, trail downward, to find those mysterious appendages, and the
bluerider just sort of scowls. Take that as a no?

Aluren squeals as she is suddenly man handled by the normally blushing
L'nan. Glancing around for help to the mint stick sucking scribbling
stranger, the other back peddling stranger a K'ryn who doesn't seem to be
breathing she yelps and tries to twist away as L'nan takes his tumble on
the ground. "Oh sharding first egg black crash shardiall" she grumbles,
dropping to her knees and poking his ribs. "Y'all right?"

Lysseth catches the flare of those wings, and rumbles pleased greetings
from the dark water; her rider, as yet, is still caught up in Scribbling
Like a Mad Scientist and doesn't echo the greeting. Yet. "Feet...
crawlies... dancing. The *dancing* is definitely new. Mayhaps I could sell
a variant of this to the Harpers? Do Harpers *have* money?" Oops, but she's
knocked a bluerider unconscious. Time to look away from the scribblings.
"He'll be all right," she decides after a moment's peering. "Just lost
touch with the world, that's all... *methinks* you still have feet. I've
never burned off anyone's feet a'fore--hey! Taralyth, I'sai!"

Telgar Weyr> Kassima sighs. 'Mint Stick-Sucking Scribbling Stranger' won't
fit into a TGW_Status. ;) *Snugs an Alessi.* :)

Aluren lifts L'nan's wrist, letting it flop bonelessly back. "He is out.
Last time he passed out this bad his hair got bleached from red to white
and shortned by two feet. Hmm What does everyting think he would look like
with a pierced ear?"

Taralyth'll arch his neck, will lean and look - there's a likewise-arch
warble for his Lysseth and, after a pause, the others: enough to make his
rider laugh, even as he clacks off his buckles and slides on down... to
land on his dragon's forepaw, _not_ on the sand itself. "What's this?
Missing feet?"

I'sai slides down from Taralyth's neck.

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth thinks to warn you, humor running
deep, << My rider is poisoning the flight-lost humans. Let your rider
beware. >>

Telgar Weyr> Alessandra snickers at Kassi and grins.

Kichevio warns I'sai, as is only fair. "She's feeding L'nan and K'ryn
purple Thunderbolt liquor, Nabolese firewater, and the Bottle." Not all at
_once_, but still.

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth hesitates a moment - leave him to his
own devices? but the man's suspicious already, so... << I shall tell 
him, >> he allows, grand as grand can be. << Since you suggest so. >>

K'ryn would be the one staring at his feet, yes. He looks up, hopefully,
toward Kassima, finally getting his voice back. Or mostly back. "Yeah?
They're just ah... tingly." A hand goes to the side of his head then, and
the young rider tries to steady himself, as he looks back to the
newly-arrived I'sai. "Hullo," he manages. Barely.

Kassima considers L'nan with all due gravity. "I've never been that fond of
pierced ears on men, t'be telling the truth, although they're all right.
I'd advise putting him in women's clothes and leaving him here. It's been
done before, but you can't overdo a classic." Though L'nan might think so.
"They're flight-lost," she merrily explains. "And being gentlemen, testing
out m'drinks for me. I didn't pour it down their *throats*, Kich!" She
directs a reassuring smile to K'ryn in exchange for the look of hope.
"That'll fade. Methinks." All right, so maybe not so reassuring.

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth glimmers with laughter for that
grandness, though it's certainly fond. << Very good of you to do so. She
would not want to poison him yet, you see. >>

Aluren watches L'nan's chest rise and fall as she breath, frowning darkly
"It wasn't JUST the purple stuff? And what is The Bottle? Sharding love of
everything shelllike, we just graduated. That means no booze for about
three turns! And L'nan's 15! You, you ... you!" unable to think of a good
enough insult she huffs at Kassima "You greenrider! oH WAIT.."

take the s from the she, put it on the breath, he breaths. Much better

Kichevio half-smiles at Aluren. "They got to the wine--and the other
stuff--before we could douse them with cold water."

"- And you'd donate him the clothes?" I'sai asks all ingenuously of the
wingleader. "Very, ah, kind of you. I'm sure." Not to step off that talon.
And to the others, "Hello, hello. Quite a mixture; Kichevio may have gotten
used to Thunderbolt liquor, but then, it's her wing. And careful with those
compliments - about these two being greenriders, and all - they still has a
helmet to wear, come Fall."

Kassima soothes, sort of, "For him 'twas just the purple, of my store. The
wine, he drank and brought *quite* on his own--and I'm sure they make
exceptions for lost flights? Even if'n they do forbid drinking for...
Faranth, three *Turns* after? That's ruddy inhumane!" And what is her
response to being called a greenrider? Why, to grin, of course. "Thankee.
Nay sweeter compliment was ever spoken. ...I'd donate the clothes, Is, only
mine aren't sufficiently frilly for the trick. Are you accusing us of
swollen heads?"

"I've been drinkin' since I was younger than that," K'ryn protests, mildly,
as Aluren takes it upon herself to play mom for him and his now-unconscious
wingmate. And then, to clarify the matter, "We're allowed to drink." He
says that a bit defensively, worried about losing his right to intoxicate
himself, no doubt. Another groan, and the young man ventures to try and stand.

Kichevio defends her reputation--the one involving liquor, anyway. "I drink
nothing of that particular shade of purple, thankyouverymuch. And
_especially_ not when Kassi offers it."

"Now we are!" Aluren corrects "Kassi is it? Hi, I am Aluren. I don't have
any frilly clothes either" She turns to the bronzerider "Do you?"

Kassima confirms sunnily, "Kassima, or Kassi, whichever you rather. Green
Lysseth's. Well met and all." Her eyes swivel towards I'sai to catch his
answer to this, with entirely too much interest. "Y'might want t'lean
against that rock there until you're feeling more steady," she suggests
K'ryn-wards.

"I am not, I'd get a bashed-in head for that," I'sai assures the seniormost
greenrider. "I'm just sayin', if she keeps calling you a greenrider - and
it's not everyone who gets to be, some of us have to settle for bronze - "
snort from Taralyth, right on cue, "...maybe you will." To K'ryn, "-Good-
for you. Are you going to fall over?" To the juniormost greenrider, primly,
"No. No frilly clothes for me." The fish wasn't frilly, was it? And to
Kichevio-in-the-middle, "If you say so. Maybe it's just that you don't
-remember-."

K'ryn manages to make it all the way to his feet, and just stands for a
moment, getting his balance back. Well, whatever's left of it, after being
poisoned so thoroughly by Kassima's brew. Huh? We're doing introductions
now? He refocuses on I'sai, and starts a motion that -looks- to be a
salute. Except he realizes he doesn't have to, and the arm falls. "K'ryn,
blue..." He starts to drift sideways, "... Tavorth's." Then, whoops,
stumble, stumble, as he inadvertently goes bumbling off into Kichevio, his
sense of equilibrium apparently not fully returned. "Nope, I won't fall,"
he then notes, after he's already crashed into her.

It's not -I'sai's- wingmate, even if it's the one he mentored, so he looks
on all this crashing with mostly-casual interest; mouth hooked to a smile,
"...Oops."

"I still vote for piercing his ear" Aluren states. She winces as K'ryn
lands on KIchevio lamenting "Now we have to visit when you aren't drunk so
they know you aren't always a lout, just most of the time."

Well, the fish had *sequins*.... "At least," Kassi murmurs helpfully, "none
that you'd ever wear in public. *Settle*. Hah." Though Lysseth's rumble
does sound terribly amused. "I'll *try* nay to, anyway--and well met,
K'ryn. Um. Ow."

Kichevio's voice is muffled, pinned as she is under a thoroughly Bottled
bluerider, but her words can be roughly translated as "Get OFF me, you big
drunk nitwit!" With a few choice phrases edited for content.

I'sai borrows some of his dragon's own guilelessness; "Settle, indeed.
We're lucky if we can even borrow one of the more interesting greens, now
and again - My. I hadn't realized she knew that word." To Aluren, "If you
pierced his ear, what would you put in it?"

Kassima offers grandly, "You could borrow Lysseth. She wouldn't mind." And
since it's *Taralyth's* rider, Lyss won't even make a rude retort. Audibly.
"Mayhaps she picked it up from L'cher? And speaking of L'cher--only nay
quite--remind me, would you, that I need t'be speaking with you?" Well.
That's ominous. Or surreal, one of those. "Perhaps," she suggests, voice
bright, "a fish."

If his head wasn't spinning before, that last trip didn't help. Nor do the
greenrider's rather loud complaints really do much. K'ryn's trying to get
up, really he is. Once he's figured out where he landed, at least. It just
takes a little work. He props himself up with one hand, and then sort of
flops off to the side, landing face down in the dirt, but at least enough
off of Kich that she can get up. "Ughh."

Aluren throws up her hands and stands "That is it, I don't know either of
them. Never saw them before in my life" She crosses her heart with a
finger. "But if I was going to pierce a complete strangers ear umm I don't
know. All I am wearing is this necklace" She peers around at everyong elses
ears.

Kichevio adds a few more comments to the back of K'ryn's head, then finally
stands up and stalks over to a nice safe rock, the very picture of
affronted dignity. "Pierce _his_ ear," she suggests to Aluren. "He's too
drunk to notice, even if you stick _Tavorth_ in there."

TGW-Bowl>> Tierth lands not far from where the bowl's terrain greens
slightly, then dips downwards to the beginning of the lakeshore. Her wings
still settling to her back, Maylia dismounts, then heads towards the water.
Why did't they land nearer to the lake? The reason for that is apparent, as
Tierth glances left - then right - and then rolls over onto her back in an
undignified manner. Clearly, she wanted to enjoy the green freshness of the
grass.

I'sai squints at the girl and her necklace - but it's too dark to tell
much, so he sticks with, "Probably pretty large. Could hurt a lot." Though
maybe it's what she wants - or at least what Kichevio wants. To the latter,
even as he wanders over to crouch a safe distance from K'ryn and peer at
him, "You look very feline." And to Kassima, "I'm sure Lysseth could hunt
him one; she's good that way. Just say when."

Maylia heads over from the central bowl.

Telgar Weyr> Maylia faints again. May's over THIRTY!

Telgar Weyr> Alessandra cackles.

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth's not above sending a drift of mental
encouragement: _so_ kind.

Telgar Weyr> I'sai congratulates. ;)

Kichevio would be flexing claws, if she had them, so I'sai's comment is
pretty apt. "Thanks, Is." K'ryn still gets a mild glare. "If you all are
going to do anything to him, better hurry before he hears you and tries to
get up."

Telgar Weyr> Alessandra felt that way when her elseM* alt (who started out
at seventeen) turned 30. ;)

K'ryn is already trying to get up, ineffectual as his attempts may be. It
seems he can manage to prop himself up with his arms, but anything more
than that is something of a challenge. "Ugh, what?" And of course, the
usual nonsensical commentary. "Feline? Tavorth? Necklace?"

Aluren kicks L'nan to get him breathing again, pushing him with a toe until
he is passed out on his side. "Try convincing him Miren likes pierced ears,
that may work? Miren K'ryn, pretty pierced ears yes?"

Kassima immediately covers her own ears. "Ohhh, nay. These are m'favorite
earrings, and I'd lose one of 'em for sevendays if'n you pierced his ear
with it. Naught doing... Tavorth. In his ear." Kich gets a long look. "Are
you sure you haven't been drinking too? Ah, well, probably soon," she
begins in response to Is. "And Lyss would probably be willing enough. She's
better at it than I am. Mayhaps we should let the poor bluerider live? Oh,
here's May! May, you can decide. Do we let this man live, or pierce random
parts of his body?"

Telgar Weyr> Kassima snickers a lot. Kassi began at 14. She's now 38. In a
few months she'll be twice as old as I am. This is not *right*. ;)

"He fell on top of me," Kichevio tells Maylia calmly. "Justice must be
served. What should we do to him?"

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth isn't above pinking to rose quartz, a
draconic blush of modesty--vanished fairly swiftly into piscine silver.
Here, fishie, fishie, fishie....

Maylia ambles down towards the lakeshore, leaving Tierth (visible as a
silhouette off a ways) rolling onto her back in a very undignified pose.
She doesn't seem to be in much of a hurry, aiming towards the gathered
group. "Thought that was you, Kassi... wha?" The Weyrlingmaster blinks as
she digests the question. "Can you do both? Let him live, AND peirce random
parts of him? Are you sure he fell by accident, Kichevio - I've heard that
as an excuse, before?"

"Welcome. And... who's Miren?" I'sai promptly asks, and - upon an
over-the-shoulder glance, a sudden smile - tries to substitute for K'ryn's
other words of choice, "Weyrlingmaster. Very sharp claws. Drills. Fish for
breakfast, fish for lunch, fish for dinner and dessert."

Maylia makes a face. "Fish for breakfast, lunch, or dinner I can handle.
But dessert?" From the expression on her face, I'sai's suggestion isn't a
good one.

Stith has been hanging out with her muzzle resting on Alirath's back.

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth swims - or is it, hooks?

That's not helping! K'ryn lets loose with a rather pitifull, "Whaaat?", as
he tries to register the stuff I'sai is spewing. Poor, drunken bluerider.
Then, a moment of clarity, "Miren?" Finally, the young man rolls onto his
back, and starts inching toward a nearby stone, using it to help him up.

"Never going to forget that time, back when we were weyrlings, that was all
we had to eat - " I'sai reminisces with only a _trifle_ exaggeration,
truly, before ducking away in case K'ryn does any more literal spewing of
his own.

"Purple drinks and green glass bottles," Kichevio throws into the random
word pool. "And maybe you have heard that excuse from me before, May. But
this time, he didn't fall on me in a fun kind of way."

"He might bleed," Kassi supposes, surveying the bluerider, "if'n we left
him alive--" A peculiar, disgusted expression crosses her face at the idea
of fish cookies, fish cake, fish pie, and she discreetly tugs another mint
stick from the ever-present collection in her pocket. "Mmmph." In the
meanwhile, Lysseth offers one shining contribution: a silver-scaled fish,
live and wriggling, sent flying all of a sudden towards where K'ryn is
rolling.

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth hooks, by hook or by crook, and
delivers her gift with finesse; that done, she shimmers. See? Was it not a
good catch?

"Fish... dessert? Thank you Stith for not hatching here! Purple mystery
drinks and fish sweets. Shards!" Aluren laughs, ducking to avoid the
wriggling flying fish. Grabbing L'nan while she is down there she slings
him across her shoulders like a stonesack.

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth glimmers to her shimmer - now, to see
whether Tavorth's rider will -eat- it. One wouldn't want her gift wasted,
after all.

Maylia adds to Kassi's list, "Fish topped with crabapple catsup," but
really quietly. Even that possibility doesn't seem to appeal to her.
"Besides, that was turns ago, Is." The Fortians are given insterested but
polite looks, before a smirk is aimed Kich's way. "Uh-huh. Well. What
random parts were you considering peircing? Some bleed more than others,
I'd say."

Flight lost, mocked, plotted against, and now bombarded with fish, it's
just been a rough night for K'ryn. He manages alomst to get himself up and
sitting on the rock, only to be struck by a flying flounder. Or something
of the sort. Promptly, he falls back off his rock, and lands with a groan.

Kichevio considers that carefully. "Ears were suggested. Of course, there
are other options. Nose, navel, nipples, tongue..."

"Yeah, well, it's not so long ago that I don't remember - you'd not want me
to have forgotten all of your teachings, would you, May?" and I'sai's smile
is frankly impish as he wanders past Aluren and her sacked-out human
towards Kassi - and misses a step: "_Ouch_. Kichevio. That's not nice."

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth certainly wouldn't, and considers the
young man avidly. Will he eat it alive? That would be most interesting to
see--

Aluren was arranging L'nan in a somewhat comfortable position on Alirath's
flank. "Ni - what?" she shouts.

"Mmmph," says Kassi again, this time at the mention of 'fish sweets.'
"--Y'know, Is, I'm thinking *mayhaps* I should be taking m'leave a'fore I'm
blamed for yon fish... if'n the time's still good for talking? Urgh?" No,
that's not an addition so much as a reaction to *May's* murmur. The mint
stick is sucked vigorously, and nearly chokes her when the smack of fish
and flesh meeting resounds.

"What about that little bit of skin," Maylia drawls, amused quite clearly,
"Between toes? No - nevermind, that'd involve getting AT his toes." A
sweetly innocent smile is flashed, briefly, for Kassima's benifit.

Kichevio says sweetly to I'sai, "I was being nice. There are several other
pierceable places I didn't suggest."

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth agrees; though he ought to take care,
not get bones between his teeth. Very important, this; he has it on good
authority.

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth can only imagine--and does imagine--a
human whose teeth are barely visible for all the fish bones sticking out
from between. *That* wouldn't be very aesthetic.

Hey now, let's have none of that. No thinking of that either! It seems as
if the fish succeeded in one other thing, beyond knocking K'ryn to the
ground; knocking him back to his senses. With a frightened look, his gaze
flits around between all the people apparently discussing his fate, and the
young rider scrambles, more quickly this time, to get back up and onto that
nice safe rock.

The fish, abandoned, flops. Awww, K'ryn! Don't you love it anymore?

I'sai holds up a hand, palm out, "Kitschy, I don't want to know." And if
his own toes are curling at the very thought, at least the boots hide them;
and at the sight of four particularly notable greenriders, one knocked-out
bluerider, and one all-but-so, he attempts to better the odds: with
whatever gallantry he can muster, "Why don't we go, ah, _now_."

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth inquires, << Would he not shut his
mouth, or would the bones poke through his lip? >>

"Why?" the newest greenrider wonders, "Ow!" She straps L'nan to his
lifemate for safekeeping.

Kichevio just grins. "I had a feeling you wouldn't. Going where?" Just in
case it's somewhere fun. Although this place is currently a laugh riot.

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth tries to devise an image of
bone-pierced lips; the result ends in much blood bubbling and spurting. 
<< Not shut his mouth, >> she firmly decides.

It is. I'sai eyes the rock lest it cave in; "Wherever Kassima's taking me."
More or less.

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth imagines the poor fellow with his
teeth constantly showing: enough to scare off whers, that.

Kichevio considers that, then makes an educated guess. "The Lava Lounge,
then."

"The Workroom?" Kassi suggests, edging back *away* from the fishy fiends.
And her box of liquors, as it happens. "There aren't any fish-anythings
*there*."

He thinks that rock'll keep him safe? Well, possibly, as it looks like
Kassi and I'sai are leaving. But Maylia and Kich are still there. The
Telgari Weyrlingmaster eyes I'sai and Kassi, with an air of speculation,
but she doesn't say what about. "Shipfish Island." She says with a shake of
her head for Kichevio, her 'bid' for their destination.

Maylia was wrong, it seems, and shrugs. "Both good guesses." She off-sides
to Kichevio.

Ack, another drinking hole. K'ryn, certainly not needing anything else to
drink, just makes another attempt at standing, and actually manages this
time. He holds out his arms, steadying himself, and takes a deep breath. "Ok."

Taralyth whuffles at the water, tail lashing this way and that, as if to
invoke a fish to leap out the same way -Lysseth's- had. But to no avail;
and he turns soulful, spinning eyes on the others: make the fish behave?

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth can picture a wher fleeing with
plaintive yips, yet--it might better frighten *fish*, whose skeletonized
comrades show so plainly.

Maylia sends a blink towards K'ryn - whom she so far had been treating
mostly as a future pincusion. "Okay, what?" She inquires, confused a bit.
"Y'know, lad, I'd say you might want to consider a big mug full of water,
or klah, or something to take the edge off..."

Kichevio shakes her head at K'ryn. "No, no. no sir. No more drinks for you.
You should be getting back to your Weyr, if you think you can get a clear
picture in your head. Drink klah, or take a cold bath, or something..."

Lysseth warbles reassurance, for who can resist such soulful eyes? Not she.
Dipping her muzzle into the water just *so*, she's silent several moments
before abruptly jerking her head back up with a fish dangling from her
teeth, head-first. This, she gracefully offers. He could fling it high and
far, surely?

"Too tired for the Lounge - and Maylia, had you heard, the seacraft's
sending regular -boats- to Shipfish? 'Bout spoiled it, in my mind - night,
all of you, Fortians in particular, and if I don't come back, tell Myk he
can auction off my gear - " and with that, Is sticks out his elbow by way
of offering Kassima his arm, ambling toward the caverns and workroom yonder.

The ok was probably more of a self-assurance, noting his accomplishment of
getting his feet back under him. K'ryn oh-so carefully looks over at
Maylia, and Kich each in turn, and nods, slowly. "Yeah, some klah might be
good."

Saulith warbles, looking ready to catch a high pop-flying-fish if necessary.

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth, distracted, now considers: would a
wher flee a flung fish, or snap it up?

"Only if'n I get the proceeds!" Kassi protests as she takes that arm so
graciously offered, letting that and a cheerful wave back serve as her
exit. After all, the sooner gone, the better chance of not getting hit by
seafood.

I'sai heads in the direction of the central bowl, leaving the shimmering lake.

You head in the direction of the central bowl, leaving the shimmering lake.

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth must pause to consider this. Well,
that might depend. Mightn't it? On whether the fish--and here she pictures
a *fish* with bones protruding from its excuse for a mouth.

Lysseth> Taralyth volunteers to give it a go by way of extending his
muzzle, skin wrinkled away from his teeth, the latter open just widely
enough to pierce that piscine tail.

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth allows, << That might hurt to bite. >>

I'sai glances at the dragons as they ambles by, expression vague enough to
be listening elsewhere - and, with a touch more of a smile, he continues.

Lysseth> In a gesture oddly reminiscent of the Lady and the Tramp with
their spaghetti, Lysseth delicately maneuvers that fish between the waiting
teeth. All yours; let 'er rip.

"You look like a demented fire-lizard," Kassi informs the back-rolling
Tierth with amusement rather than rancor, and stifles a sudden laugh as she
walks on beside.

Lysseth> "Yuh-huh," Maylia agrees with K'ryn. Glancing over to Kich, she
speculates, "Think he can walk to the caverns? Could always see what's in
the weyrling barracks, they're closer, but you don't want to smell them."

Tierth whufffffs, head upside down, sending ripples of air-waves swooshing
through the grass. Squirmwriggle. Overgrown demented firelizard. Odd for
the demure small green - and oddness in this one means only one thing. Just
wait. May'll start dancing across the bowl.

"But a very -fun- one," I'sai fondly assures: no bias there. Poor grass.
First it gets squirmed on, then it'll get snowed on.

I'sai walks south.

Kassima glances about as though to ensure that May is not dancing *now*;
thus assured, she continues.

You walk south.

Lysseth> "I'll walk," K'ryn states, a little bit of his usual
self-confidence returning. "Y'all go and have a good time... wherever it is
you're going." He wobbles a bit, but seems more stable, now.

Alirath warbles to I'sai and Kassima, one eye opening to watch them idly.

Lysseth> Kichevio asks disbelievingly, "And can you walk by youself? I
honestly doubt it."

Lysseth> Taralyth waits till she's retreated before going for the full
wind-up: back on his haunches, tail snaking, neck curled 'round - a twitch
marks one, two, and... _toss!_ three for the show. Towards Saulith.
Roughly. It has to pass over K'ryn, first.

"Most greens," Kassi quips, having assured herself that no Weyrlingmasters
are cha chaing in the immediate vicinity, "are fun," and certainly she's
not biased either. She wiggles her fingers at yon blue en route to the...
oh. Oops. Well, the Records Room will do; it currently exists, after all.

Lysseth> Saulith goes long, and longer, rearing up and back slightly on her
haunches and fanning her wings as she readies herself for the catch. Always
assuming K'ryn's head doesn't intercept.

I'sai squints at the young dragon, "Oh, so you're his? Or is that the other
one - yes, well, some are more fun than others," and duly yawns that room's
door wide for her.

Lysseth> Lysseth would hold up a sign reading '9.8' if she could; since she
cannot, her mellow bugle will have to suffice as the token of her admiration.

Lysseth> K'ryn is tall, but not that tall, and thankfully Kich's question
draws his attention. The young man turns, awkwardly, to face her, and the
fish sails overhead. Phew. "Ah, well... I can try," he mumbles, answering
the greenrider's question.

Atop Alirath, L'nan stirs slightly, blinking away bleariness caused by..
sleepiness. Yes, that's it. So why is there sand all over him?

"I believe he's the partner of the one who's passed out," Kassi clarifies
in a murmur, "rather than the one who's in danger of being pierced."
Helpful, she is. And gone, into yon Records Room with a courtly bow in
passing to the bronzerider gallant.

You walk into the records cavern, leaving the bowl behind.

I'sai strides in from the bowl.

Lysseth> Maylia looks dubious too, about whether or not the lad can walk.
"Uh-huh." Seems to be a common phrase from her. "We could," a wary eye
follows the projectile fish, "support him between us? I'd hate for you to
trip and hurt yourself or something." This last is directed to the Fortian.

Lysseth> Kichevio hmmmms. "It would depend on where we're supporting him to."

Lysseth> L'nan heads over from the central bowl.

Lysseth> K'ryn waves a hand, the gesture a bit exagerated. Not unusual,
from a drunk. He stumbles a step forward, and shrugs. "I'm alright. Just
gotta get to the livin' cavern, I guess... t'get some klah."

Lysseth> L'nan manages to make his way back out, mumbling inanities to
himself. "S'fine t'leave a guy on's dragon, b'how 'bout brushin'th'sand
off?" He peers at the others in the darkness. "'ryn? Zat you?"

"So-o... what's on your mind? Mart lose me to you in a bet?" I'sai asks.

Lysseth> Kichevio rolls her eyes up to heaven in a bid for patience. "Oh
Faranth, _two_ of them..."

"Oh, I wish," Kassi replies after a snort, shaking her head. She finds a
handy side of the table to half-sit, half-lean against. "Since then I could
claim *all* of Telgar's top-spawning riders as belonging to or once having
belonged to Thunderbolt. Or close enough." Another headshake. "'Tisn't
aught t'do with Mart... nor a bet, though something close to a bet."

I'sai pauses to unshield the nearest glowbasket that much further, and set
it to shine dim yellow-green light - and shadows - to bridge the scant
distance between them. Absently, "S'pose, if it's that, he might lend me
for a drill's worth of time. For the right price..." and then pale eyes
lift, focus: "Yeah?"

Lysseth> "Yeah," K'ryn calls back, as L'nan comes stumbling on over.
"Aluren thought, thought you'd be better off." Again, he holds a hand to
his head, as if struck by a headache of some strength. Another halting
step, and he nearly tips over once more.

Lysseth> L'nan smirks, taking the long, weavy way towards the small
beach-crowd. "Well, 't'd be nice'f I coulda had been cleaned off. Sand
everywhere." His eyes are slits, and he peers at Kich. "Two a'what?"

Lysseth> L'nan adds, spotting Maylia, "Even'n. Ma'am." He laughs to
himself. WHat's funny? Wanna ask? He doesn't know...

Dryly, "I already bought you *once*--and, y'know, it's occured t'me... you
cost me a hundred and fifty marks; I cost you two. There's something wrong
with this equation." Kassi's tone is light; she flicks a grin at the end of
that, though it's brief. Away from the fish, away from the others, she's
fidgeting. Restless. Looking for something else to talk about, even: "Nice
leathers," she compliments at near-total random. "Um. Anyway. There's a
slight problem, see, with a deal we made awhile back--d'you remember, when
I came t'see Icerain?"

Lysseth> "Drunk blueriders," Kichevio answers succintly. "If you weren't
drunk, I could find something to do with you. As it is, though, all that I
can think of is to throw you in the lake and see if that helps."

Lysseth> "It'd be water," Maylia ventures, after spending a moment or two
staring off at her lifemate, who's now - still upside down - staring their
way. "Evening, there." Is offered as greeting to L'nan, with an amused
tone. "Water's good for drunk people, isn't it? Think the dragons could
play fling-a-rider, instead of fling-a-fish?"

It's been a long, _long_ day - and he watches her wide-eyed: those pale
eyes may reflect blue as his dragon's, just now, but they can't spin to
reflect his mind's flickering over her fidgeting. Considering. Trying
pieces to a puzzle. "Thanks. From Emilly, for ruining my old ones - Kich
stitched them - and I remember. What is it?"

Lysseth> Tavorth lumbers in from the central bowl.

Lysseth> Saulith finishes eating the fish which she caught with such
dexterity and skill, and chirps softly. Kichevio grins. "Saulith's up for it."

Dragon> Lysseth, Taralyth, Saulith, and Tavorth sense that Taralyth,
watching, projects an image of poor Tavorth's rider, gone belly-up and
bloated. Poor rider.

Lysseth> She wants something with a non-drunk bluerider? L'nan thinks, and
comes up with a drunken question. "So what'd y'do with me 'f'I weren't
drunk, hm?" His eyes try hard to focus on Kichevio in the darkness. "An'a
lakes cold. T'cold fera swim. 'less you come with. An', uh.. no flingin'.
I'd drown." Least he's honest!

Kassima is watching him likewise, though anything but steadily just yet.
More sidelong glances, eyes flickering to his and away again within the
same breath. She twists at rings. "Kind of her," she absently observes.
"Very kind, and they suit... well. It won't work. That deal." Pause. "We
forgot t'be making provisions for a tie."

Lysseth> "I just want some klah," K'ryn insists, his voice still strained,
and a little quieter than usually, again supporting the idea that he
probably has something of a headache. Kich gets an odd look, her comment no
doubt bringing a similar question to his mind as L'nan's. Yet as Tavorth
comes wandering along, his rider looks back over that way, relieved. "Don't
let the greens fling me around, Tav..."

Lysseth> Kichevio looks thoughtfully at L'nan, but finally shakes her head.
"In a Turn, maybe. It'd feel too much like robbing the cradle, now. And we
wouldn't _fling_ you...toss gently, more like."

I'sai, for his part - that fidgeting's contagious? - fumbles automatically
at his tunic's collar, at the lacing there; only... "You mean." And there's
a pause, sandy brows slanting up; when he finally does speak, his voice is
peculiarly gentle. "Y'mean - you. We..."

Dragon> Lysseth, Taralyth, and Tavorth sense that Saulith flicks that fish
into the water, where it perks up and swims away. If fish do that, won't
riders?

Lysseth> Maylia shrugs amicably, noting, "Lake's cold, but it'd sober you
up. Repeated dunkings help, too, don't they?" That'd be where the flinging
comes in. "Sounds less of a worry than peircing, though."

Lysseth> Kichevio chuckles softly. "Piercing would _definitely_ sober them
up."

Kassima does look at him, now, the glowlight turning her eyes an almost
feline green--almost, since it's not feline at all to be anxious. "I do,"
she confirms first, very quiet. "I," second. "We did; we will be," third
and fourth. Watching. Waiting.

Lysseth> L'nan makes a face. "Nothin' on me's gettin' pierced," he says
insistently, as if plagued all the time by the threat. "An'm not /that/
young," he tells Kichevio sternly. "An' jus' 'cuz I'm young dudn't mean I
c'n't teach you somethin' too." Oho, the drink makes him brave, really.
But.. "Water sounds kinda nice. N'tossin', though."

Lysseth> Oh, blah, why won't they just let him have some klah? K'ryn sways
in place, slightly, and glances out over the water. "I suppose that'd work
too..." Then, picking up on L'nan's conversation, he laughs, looking
between his wingmate and Kichevio. "And I'm a few turns older than him."
Ohdear.

Lysseth> Kichevio smiles condescendingly at L'nan. "Sure, L'nan. In a Turn
or two, maybe Alirath will catch Saulith, and we'll see." Don't hold her to
that, though. She gives K'ryn a once-over, and concedes, "Very true. But
you're drunk too."

I'sai's expression stills - but moments later, the abrupt, "Oh, sweet
Faranth," is rather more marvelling than dismayed. "Kassi. Kassi, Kassi,
_Kassi_ - " and then, quick, "You're all right?"

Lysseth> L'nan glares at K'ryn, then turns the look onto Kichevio. "Not
'nuff t'take Miren, eh?" he says, rather snidely, to K'ryn. "An'f he
wasn't? Y'd take'm since's older?" Fed up - with...? - L'nan starts to walk
towards the water, boots, clothing, and all.

Kassima tilts her head at the oath, surprised--though the lack of dismay
does help, or seem to, and tension retreats a fraction from those worried
eyes rather than increasing. "I'm fine," she assures, quick and low.
"...You're nay upset or aught?"

Lysseth> K'ryn looks, well, a trifle stunned, and more than a bit confused,
by the drunken comment. And the slurred speech doesn't exactly help. Nor
his own headache, for that matter. "What?" That, the most intelligent thing
he can up with, before turning a helpless look back over toward the older
riders.

Lysseth> Kichevio just shakes her head. "How should I know? And who the
shell is Miren?"

His smile curves deep, lopsided. "How could I - _Lysseth_ - " and I'sai
sets down the glowbasket; leans to look into those green eyes. "Don't
laugh; but you've won your bet, you know."

"Lysseth is entirely too pleased," Kassi comments, relaxing enough to
hesitantly match that smile. "And had t'be threatened a'fore she agreed nay
t'tell Taralyth ere I told you." Startlement registers; she blinks, once,
and peers into blue. "Eight? I thought *seven*...."

"She -kept- it from him?" Could I'sai possibly be scandalized? - But he's
surely not repentant, which makes it no confession when he says, simply,
"I've a son today. Alain."

"On my request. *Sometimes* I can coerce the beast into obeying," Kassi
points out with a note of humor, one mouth-corner tucking up. A slow blink
follows, and a warm, full smile after. "*I'sai*. You kept that from *me*,
knowing of the bet? Oh, but congratulations--" There's one of those pauses
as she visibly weighs the question that begs to be asked. "...I'm sure he's
beautiful," she settles for, as words go.

Lysseth> K'ryn watches after L'nan, as he heads for the water, still
seemingly a little stunned, by the sudden outburst. Kich's question draws
him back an he explains, simply, "My girl." He doesn't mince words, with
that much alcohol still floating about in his system.

Lysseth> Kichevio murmurs, "Ah," and doesn't press. "And was Miren ever his
girl?"

Dragon and rider - that much I'sai can understand; and the set of his
shoulders eases with a peculiar relief at the quality of that smile.
"...Thank you. And he will be, red and shrivelly but with such a grip - and
he hadn't been born; and it'd not won you the bet." Nor will it, till hers
be not just made but born. A touch rueful, even now, "And I'd hoped to
delay the teasing."

Lysseth> L'nan snorts and calls over his shoulder, "Nah. B'now sh'hardly'll
talk t'me, always runnin' off when'r he comes in." Another snort, and he
kneels to unlace a boot.

Lysseth> "Not that I know of," K'ryn replies, flatly, against casting a
look out after his wingmate, as he blunders into the lake. Then, suddenly,
"She'd talk t' you if you weren't always such an ass!"

Lysseth> Kichevio calmly climbs up onto a rock, away from the building
testosterone battle, and does _not_ comment. She knows they wouldn't
listen, anyway.

"Thank *you*," Kassi returns with quiet emphasis, moving a
no-longer-fidgeting hand to touch, briefly, one of his. "And welcome. Red
and shrivelly they all are, but still beautiful, and you know that as well
as I. Nay won, but don't you know I like t'keep track?" It's not a real
chide. She's smiling. "And 'twill still have t'wait t'be collecting on that
bet, like as nay... but I'll grant you a cut, if'n you like. Seems the
least I can do after all you've done t'cooperate." Yes, that's a tease, but
a gentle one. Her voice shades to wry: "Ah, there can't be much of that.
But, Is--speaking for m'self, I may tease, but I do admire you underneath
it. For what sort of father, what sort of man you've been."

Lysseth> L'nan has managed to remove one boot, and chucks it K'ryn's way,
missing entirely and landing with a *thud*. "/I'm/ a'as-" He cuts himself
off, with another snort. "Forget't. 'Snot nice 'nfront've Kich'n Maylia."
He sits, removing various articles of clothing, slowly, and chucking them
all in the same direction as the other boot.

Lysseth> K'ryn shrugs, glancing down at the thrown boot. Not something he's
in the mood to argue, either, especially with the message drums going off
in his skull. Turning, to look around, he goes and flops down to sit in the
sand, leaning against a rock just a bit from Kich's. Standing... too much
effort.

I'sai flushes - that touch, that tease - that _praise_: yet he doesn't
refuse any of it. Including the cut. At least his gaze can hold hers, even
through his voice trembled more to a murmur: "I try." And, more firmly,
"You look... you look like it's easier for you, Kassi, this time; than with
the twins. And I'm glad. But I'll, I'll take care of you even so - and you
know Taralyth wouldn't approve if I so much as tried to restrict _your_
flight."

Lysseth> Kichevio says softly to K'ryn, since L'nan is apparently in even
less of a listening mood, "Talk it out with him tomorrow, when you're both
not befuddled."

Lysseth> Finally, he's ready. "Anyone else comin' in the lake?" L'nan calls
over his shoulder. "An'm not gonna talk 'bout't, I'm young'n don't
unnerstan' nothin', anyway." Feeling a bit put upon? Awwww. Poor kid.

Lysseth> Kichevio mutters something about leaving the boys to their games,
and mounts Saulith.

Lysseth> Kichevio disappears up onto Saulith's spring-green back.

Lysseth> Saulith takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to
carry her aloft.

And she can hold her gaze to his, with something like normal manner in it,
though still with something solemn. "I know." Kassi switches trains along
with him: "Aye, there's been markedly little trouble, and I can't say I'm
displeased... thankee. 'Twould've understood," she says quietly, "if'n you
wouldn't; you've done that a lot, lately, taking care of women, and I've
had t'take care of m'self a'fore. Still... I'd rather nay." Curving a grin,
"That's entirely too good of you, and I mean that."

Lysseth> Watching Kichevio wander off, K'ryn ignores L'nan's commentary,
and rises as well, carefully. "Tav... make sure Alirath doesn't let him
drown or nothin'," he says out loud, before stumbling past the blue. Then a
trip to the living caverns, for some pre-flight klah.

I'sai resorts to humor, still with that sleepy, slanting smile, "Which is
not to say that I'll let you free rein when it comes to my mark-pouch and
commissioning this and that for it. A mark-pouch which is much smaller than
yours, I must add!" After a moment he reaches gently, gently to brush a
knuckle up the curve of her cheekbone, into that dark hair. "But if you
would like anything. You tell me. And for now... I'd wish you a good night,
and for this news, good dreams."

Lysseth> L'nan heads in the direction of the central bowl, leaving the
shimmering lake.

"Shards. There goes m'latest plan t'drain a man of money," Kassi jests
back, though keeping her own smile rather than falling into the trademark
public grin. "But methinks I'll survive." Her eyes close at the touch to
her cheek; open again, and she raises fingertips to rest lightly, lightly,
against that knuckled finger. "I'll do so. Sleep sound, I'sai. Sleep sweet.
And... thankee, and congratulations, both again."

I'sai pauses there, regarding Kassima; and wordlessly sketches a bow, eyes
still on hers, before he departs into the silent night.

I'sai slips out of the records cavern.