-------------------------------------------------------------------------- We Can't Stop Until We Have Underpants! Date: December 19(?), 1998 Place: Quiet Cove Game: PernMUSH Copyright Info: The World of Pern is copyright(c) to Anne McCaffrey l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kassi's Note: When you take a break in RP to watch South Park, strange things happen as a result--and this log is proof! In this log, Kassi takes her children to visit their Uncle G'har at Ista, and Khari makes a rather unusual request.... Almost all non-RP foo has been clipped, except for one section of gnome-related knot chat. :) -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Log: Dragon> Lysseth senses that Falsanath rumbles a soft greeting, carefully insinuating his presence with such subtlety that it could be ignored, should he be interrupting sleep. Lysseth> Falsanath senses that Lysseth doesn't seem to be asleep, no; contemplative, perhaps, judging by the stillness of the blue pool of her thought, but silver lightning of awareness zips across still waters at the touch. << Good evening, Falsanath. >> Dragon> Lysseth senses that Falsanath's rumble becomes more pronounced, washed with pleasure to find you awake. << Are you well? >> Lysseth> Falsanath senses that Lysseth assures in a flash of brighter, electric blue, edged with barely-visible ultraviolet light, << Certainly. I'm watching my rider play with the hatchlings; she is at peace, and thus, so am I. You and your rider are faring brightly, I hope? >> Dragon> Lysseth senses that Falsanath warbles agreeably, sounding to be in a good humor indeed. << *G'har* is eating. That's nothing new. >> A ripple of amusement, flickering yellow-orange, follows that thought. << He is happy, though. We are well. >> Lysseth> Falsanath senses that Lysseth perks up a touch further at the mention of food, garnet-shaded hunger-glints working their way through the maze of sapphire, emerald, amethyst, silver, and bloodfire-red that characterizes her mental signature. Mmmm. Yo quiero wherry-poofs. << Eating sounds like a good idea. I will have to have Kassi take me to the Grounds tomorrow. It is good to hear that you are well. Has your rider agreed to spawn yet? >> Dragon> Lysseth senses that Falsanath rumbles softly, his tone taking on a vaguely disgruntled air. << He and Gaudiorth's rider talked about it. They say that they will wait, and maybe spawn later, when they are not so busy. >> Lysseth> Falsanath senses that Lysseth shares the disgruntlement, but does have a suggestion. << You should catch many greens with female riders, then. Sooner or later, one of them will spawn. >> With pride: << I've made my rider spawn *twice*. >> Yes, Lysseth's a proud father. Sort of. In a sense comprehensible only to the twisted mind of the green, anyway. Dragon> Lysseth senses that Falsanath pauses a moment, a wisp of startlement working its way into his voice. << Fishrolls fly. I didn't know that. And I will definitely have to catch more greens, yes. >> He sounds quite sure of himself, despite his lousy track record. << I -almost- caught you, and then your rider and my rider would be spawning together. >> Lysseth> Falsanath senses that Lysseth echoes startlement, allowing a wordless query to seep through, which seems to involve a mental image of fishrolls with wings soaring past. (Picture something like the toasters from After Dark here, if you will.) << This is true, >> she conceeds of the latter point. << I wonder whether that would make him less wary of my rider. >> She probably would have said 'afraid', but the green does have *some* tact. Dragon> Lysseth senses that Falsanath ponders that, with a pensive warble. << Perhaps. He worries about her getting revenge, he says, like with Ularrith's rider. >> Lysseth> Falsanath senses that Lysseth points out, with utmost logic, << Kassima never spawned with Ularrith's rider. >> Despite Lysseth's best efforts. << Oh, you mean regardless of spawn? It's likely. That's my rider's way. She can be a bit odd sometimes. >> Dragon> Lysseth senses that Falsanath suggests, << He likes your rider's hatchlings. Especially the small one. So I don't think that spawn have anything to do with it. >> Lysseth> Falsanath senses that Lysseth gives a feeling of pensive agreement. << It is strange. My rider seems to like being thought fearsome, but she is not truly *evil*. >> She's just desced that way. Dragon> Lysseth senses that Falsanath's tone takes on darker overtones, and he sounds just a bit distracted. << No, she is not evil. *G'har* certainly does fear her sometimes, though he also considers her a friend. Odd combination. >> Lysseth> Falsanath senses that Lysseth agrees, << It is often that way.... >> But she has been distracted by that darkness. << Are you certain that nothing's amiss? >> Dragon> Lysseth senses that Falsanath's warble is tinged with apology. << *G'har* is irritated. A youngling ruined his dinner, and someone is being rude. >> He hesitates for a moment, as if consulting his rider, then rumbles softly. << We leave, to a place we know. >> He sends the image of a quiet cove, warm sunshine, peaceful water. Lysseth> Falsanath senses that Lysseth's tone is layered with sympathetic distaste; true rudeness does not sit well with her. << It is hard to concentrate on food when irritated, yes. Your place sounds peaceful. >> Some slight wistfulness there. << The time with the younglings is always anything but, but Kassima doesn't seem to mind much... I think I need to hunt, now. >> Apology, there, as thoughts withdraw. << We may speak later? >> Dragon> Lysseth senses that Falsanath rumbles his agreement. << And *G'har* will be pleasant then, so I will be able to give you my full attention. >> [Editor's Note: Time passes, as OOCly, I go off to watch South Park. G'har does the same. The results are soon obvious in the RP....] Lysseth> Falsanath senses that Lysseth extends a light thought, resonant with the contentment of a recently fed dragon and edged with the red of spilled blood. << There's nothing like watching the wherries scatter in the Grounds. They run about like.... >> Like little underpants gnomes? << Humans at a Gather. Phase one seems to be running, but they never know what phase two is. Too panicked. All they seem to know is that phase three is dying. >> Dragon> Lysseth senses that Falsanath, perhaps a bit drowsy, offers the soothing cooless of water along with his thoughts, and the counterpoint of the sun's warmth. Never mind that it's not sunny. We're playing with time. << Well, yes, they do die. It would be disconcerting to have them still living in one's stomach. >> Lysseth> Falsanath senses that Lysseth basks a moment in the sensation of sunshine and clear water, her own thoughts as crisply breezy as a Telgarian summer evening. << That is very true. They would make too much noise. I do not want to get settled just right for sunning only to have my stomach begin squawking at me. >> Dragon> Lysseth senses that Falsanath seems to find that thought amusing. With a rippling warble not unlike the shaking of bells (Jingle bells! Jingle all the... no, wait, that's not canon.), he suggests, << That wouldn't be good, no. And flying would be worse. And I have to say, I wouldn't like a wherry moving about while I'm trying to swim. That would startle the younglings. >> Lysseth> Falsanath senses that Lysseth sounds vaguely disturbed by the very concept. << Would it be like a human hatchling, kicking at you all the time? I don't know how humans stand that! I certainly wouldn't want to! >> Green dragon discovered pregnant with half-eaten wherry carcass: next on Geraldo? Dragon> Lysseth senses that Falsanath's answering rumble is rather vague. << Human hatchlings kick? That's rather rude of them. >> His manner is decidedly disapproving, as Falsanath, like his rider, is not a fan of rudeness. Lysseth> Falsanath senses that Lysseth affirms, << Oh, yes. My rider's did, although the new one does not yet. She says that they do not know better. Perhaps it is something like dragon hatchlings trying to get out of the egg. >> Dragon> Lysseth senses that Falsanath rumbles thoughtfully at that. << When human hatchlings hatch, yes, that makes sense. Maybe you should tell your rider that. I'm sure it will make her feel better. >> He pauses a moment, then adds, << *G'har* asks me to have you remind your rider that he wishes to see the young one before you are no longer able to Between. >> Another pause, then, << He does not wish to come to Telgar, though. He wishes to avoid Ularrith's rider. >> Lysseth> Falsanath senses that Lysseth is quiet for a moment; when she returns, she reports, << I relayed it, but it does not seem to reassure her. She thinks that being kicked open like an egg would probably be rather painful. >> Gee, imagine that. << Kassima wonders whether she should bring them over tonight, then? They are still awake, despite all of her better efforts. What is wrong with Ularrith's rider? Aside that he is, according to my rider, a 'doofus'. >> Dragon> Lysseth senses that Falsanath's rumble is amused. << *G'har* thinks that Ularrith's rider will get him in trouble with your rider. And he says that of course your rider may bring them. We will have to return home, though. >> The bronze's rumble is regretful. He's comfortable, after all, and inherently lazy. << Unless you wished to come here? >> Lysseth> Falsanath senses that Lysseth asks, with some amusement, << Your rider needs help getting in trouble with my rider? How odd. I imagine that we could go there. I would like to, >> she admits, wistful. << Warmth is much to be desired. It is not even as warm here as it was at home, Kassima insists. >> Dragon> Lysseth senses that Falsanath's rumble is decidedly pleased, as this seems to suggest that he will not have to move. << *Here* is warm, and warm is good. That is why you should share my ledge. >> Oh, look. Back on that subject again. Lysseth> Falsanath senses that Lysseth agrees rather mournfully, << Yes, but our riders are so stubborn! >> A pause, and then a sly thought: << Of course, Sharath is warm too, and he visits often... my rider is getting the younglings strapped in. We will be there shortly. >> You spring from Lysseth's ledge with one downsweep of your wings, soaring into the sky above the Northern Bowl. The rim of the bowl falls away from you and you soar into the open skies. <*> Lysseth disappears into Between. Between You gasp as the icy black nothingness of Between surrounds you! You hear nothing, see nothing, and feel nothing. The trip takes five heartbeats... Black... Blacker... Blackest! You suddenly emerge... <*> Lysseth emerges from Between with a blast of cold air! Dragon> Lysseth senses that Falsanath takes a moment to verbalize his response, as he's far too busy being jealous, and trying not to sound like he's jealous. << Sharath, >> he scoffs finally. << Sharath is far too young. Ah... there you are. >> <*> Lysseth appears from *between* *above* the cove, honest, and bugles a greeting as she spirals in to a careful landing. "G'deve!" Kassi calls up from on high, echoed by the usual childish echoes: "G'deve! Duties!" "Hi, hi, Uncle Gar! Duties and stuff!" Unbuckling the children, the adult on board asks, "You don't mind, d'you? Falsanath invited Lyss over, and she can never resist nagging me when there's warmth at stake." <*> G'har, sprawled in the sand, actually bothers to get to his feet. "Don't mind at all," he calls, with a grin for the kids' greetings. "It's good to have a bit of company--other than Fal, of course. Not many come all the way out here." Lysseth> Falsanath senses that Lysseth agrees serenely, << Young and warm. My rider certainly seems fond of his rider. They are spawning a hatchling, after all. >> A note of triumph there: see, she *said* spawning was a good thing. << Yes, we are here. You were right; this place is very warm, too. >> And no underpants gnomes in sight! Bliss! 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. Dragon> Lysseth senses that Falsanath grumbles faintly at the praise of Sharath, and he moves quite agreeably to the topic change. << Warm, yes. And quiet. The hold younglings are not allowed to come here alone. >> "Can't imagine why," Kassi comments as she helps the spawnlings down, with some grimaces; she's not quite as nimble as she used to be, after all. "'Tis beautiful, i'truth. Peaceful. And probably less crowded than Shipfish, though 'twould change if'n others *did* start coming here. Behave yourselves, evil-lings." By the time she says that, Khari's already pelting pell-mell for the bronzerider's nearest leg to attach herself like a limpet, though the stuffed green dragon clutched in one arm does prevent her from being truly leech-like. Kaylira settles for a more subdued wave, then a bright observance: "Your bronze is still lecherous, isn't he, Uncle G'har?" Lysseth> Falsanath senses that Lysseth gives a faint snort. << That is indubitably why it is quiet. Even at their best, younglings are not that. >> Lysseth watches the proceedings with a rumble of amusement, flipping her wings back before sending a greeting warble to Falsanath. Hidey-ho! G'har ruffles Khari's hair, attempting to un-limpet her with a few well- placed tickles. "Of course he is, Kay," he says affably. "He's a bronze. It comes with the paint job." Peering at the kids' mother, he inquires, "How much longer are you going to be able to 'tween, Kassi?" Falsanath, for his part, welcomes Lysseth affably enough, shifting to allow her a bit more of the beach. Kharisma shrieks with giggles, obediantly detaching herself to fall back on her hindside on the sand. "Uncle *Gar*! Nay fair!" she protests, wheezing. Kaylira rolls her eyes discreetly before noting, "Glad Lucki isn't bronze, then. Foster-Mum said that Mum would blow a tuber out her ear if'n I had a lecherous 'lizard. I'd kinda like t'see that...." Kassi quells her eldest's wistfulness with a stern look. "About another month and a half, give or take," she replies for her part, sighing. "Mayhaps less. Won't be fit t'sit on Lyss ere too long; I already look like a bloody inflated ovine-bladder. Never get pregnant if'n you can help it, G'har." Lysseth accepts this offering with all due grace, stretching herself out full-length to bask, feline-like--or perhaps more like a demented fire- lizard--in the sun. Ahh. Warmth is a goodness. G'har offers Khari a bright grin as he settles back to his spot on the sand. Kaylira's words cause his grin to widen. "That," he agrees, "Would truly be a sight, seeing how fond your mum is of tubers. Think she'd have to eat one to get it to come out of her ear?" He winks, then, with a nod to Kassi, quips, "That is my utmost goal in life, to avoid pregnancy. I'm told I don't have the hips for it." Among other missing parts. Falsanath, now that Lysseth is stretched out, takes up the rest of the beachspace designated for dragons. (Excuse me, sir, would that be dragon or non-dragon?) And if a whippy tail happens to end up draped over the green, well, so be it. Kassima shudders, even as Kaylira beams with delight. "I bet she would! And that'd be another tuber Foster-Mum doesn't try and make *me* eat! Mum told me all about Evil Tuber Man a long time ago, but Foster-Mum says that the only way we can defeat his min-yuns is by eating 'em. She wasn't happy when I tried throwing 'em in the Springs instead." Kharisma, recovering, becomes impatient to add her own two bits. She sits up and asks, eyes wide, "Uncle Gar, did you know I'm *four* now? And I'm gonna learn to read and write? All 'bout letch'rous dragons, too! Mum promised!" Kassima just gives a long-suffering look and remarks back, "A blessing in disguise. These spawnlings have worn *me* out, trying t'get 'em t'go t'sleep." Lysseth unlids one azurean eye, peering at Falsanath in amusement. Apparently in a good-natured mood today, she raises one wing to offer the space underneath. (Would you like a wing, sir? It is wafer-thin!) Telgar Weyr> Leigh waves and shouts down the water=pregnancy concept ICly. :) Are you proud of me, Searchrider? Telgar Weyr> Alyssa says, "Yes, because it's something that has long-irked Lys. :)" Telgar Weyr> Meara says, "water-pregnancy?" Telgar Weyr> Kassima hrmphs and stands staunchly on the side of the Water Legend. :) Yep! Drink the Benden Water, get pregnant. It's as easy as one-two-three. Telgar Weyr> Aurian notes that Kassima forgot step two Telgar Weyr> Trilana laughs. Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Yes. Like the underwear gnomes, Kassi always seems to forget phase two. ;)" G'har muses, "Min-yuns. Makes me think of whiteroots, how odd. Knew I should've eaten more." He shakes his head, then, adding, "Tossing tubers in the hot springs seems like rather an odd cooking method." At Khari's comments, he wiggles his fingers in mock-threat, as if he's going to tickle her some more. "Four?" he inquires. "You can't be four! I thought you were twenty-seven! And reading and writing soon? Maybe you'll write something about Fal. That'd be apt." With a sympathetic look to Kassi, he nods. "Yeah, they seem rather... wound up tonight." Kaylira admits, with some reluctance, "I can't say that word right. But 'tis a *big* word." Her grey stare challenges anyone to deny this or make fun of her for it. "I didn't want to cook 'em; I wanted to *kill* 'em, 'cause tubers are bad. Mum's stories say so. And Cookie Woman and Spiceth and Lord Syrup can't kill them all by *themselves*." Like, duh. Kharisma shrieks again, gleeful, and scootches back away from the fingers of doom. "Silly Uncle Gar! I'm nay *old*!" This earns her a wry look from her mother. "I'm little! But I can already read some! I know how t'spell the name of the E-thingy!" Proudly, she proceeds to demonstrate: "E-M-A-S-S-K-U-L-A-Y-T-E-R-R-R! See? I can do it! Kay taught me how!" Beam. Beam. Beam. All three of the Kassi-clan members look proud of this accomplishment. Fear. G'har's expression shades to decided fear as he puzzles out just what Khari is spelling. "Is it really -necessary- for your kids to know about... -that-? Honestly, Kassi, it strikes fear deep into the... well, yeah, the hearts of men." Kassima's beam only increases a watt or five. "Precisely! Methinks being able t'strike fear into the hearts of men is a very useful talent. And Kaylira's very good at it already. Khari's getting there, but she's too cute to be very fearful--aren't you, minxling?" Khari smiles sunnily, amber eyes aglow. Deny it? Who, *her*? "Besides, 'twasn't *my* idea. All right, so I did teach Kay, but still...." Lysseth gives a sleepily amused rumble. Humans. Ever living in the state of denial. Falsanath, already asleep, stirs at the rumble from Lysseth, though he doesn't quite manage to open an eye. G'har shakes his head, raking a hand through his hair and sending it into disarray. "It's -useful-, but is it really necessary to strike fear into -my- heart? It's not like I'm a threat or anything." He tries to look small and innocent, and it almost works. Kassima starts to open her mouth to reply, but before she can, Khari pipes up in an injured voice, "But Uncle Gar, I just wanted to show you that I can spell good. The E-thingy is the longest word I know." Kaylira, settling in the sand by her mother, confides in a child's whisper, "She doesn't know many words yet. The great-grandmums and the aunts and girl-cousins were real proud when she spelled that one at her Turnday party, but the Great-Grandsires and Grandsire and the uncles and the boy-cousins didn't like it. Grandmum didn't even know what *'twas*. She turned real interesting colors when Mum told her!" G'har seems rather defeated in the face of two such cute kidlings. "I'm sure she did," he agrees with Kaylira. "I'd hate to think of explaining that to my grandmum, especially the way your mum uses 'em." He grins, then, adding to Kharisma, "And you spelled it very well, Khari. I was impressed. I'm sure I couldn't spell... uh, that word... like that." Kharisma helpfully supplies, "E-thingy. Or E-bad-thingy. Uncles call it that lots." Go figure. "Can you teach me t'spell letch'rous, Uncle Gar? If'n I'm gonna write about Fal, I've got t'know that word." Kaylira perks up at that, too, scooting closer fast enough that the sleeping blue 'lizard on her shoulder stirs and chirps a drowsy protest. "Oh, please, Uncle G'har? I'm going t'write a story 'bout Nicoth for Da, and he's bronze, too, so I'll have t'have lechery in there somewhere." Kassima, needless to say, appears very, very amused by all of this. "I hope this next one isn't as obsessed with lechery," she mutters. G'har says fervently, "I hope this next one is a girl. A boy would have too hard a time with y'all as family." Turning to the kids, he supplies, "L-E-C-H-E-R-O-U-S." For good measure, he spells the word by writing in the sand. Kassima snorts with laughter at the very idea. "From what I hear, half the Lower Caverns plans on making pink lace baby clothing for the bairn, so I rather hope 'tis a lass also! I don't plan t'make any son of mine a Femaleman of Pern. Unless he'd really *want* t'be one, which 'twill worry about later." It'd be fitting, one has to admit. Khari and Kay both lean over to peer at the sand, eyes studying it intently over the heads of their respective stuffed dragons. "Look!" Kharisma exclaims, pointing towards the E. "I recognize that from the E-thingy!" Kaylira seems to be somewhat more comprehending than this. "You'd think there'd be a T in there," she complains. "And nay O. L-E-T-C-H-E-R-U-S is how it should be spelled." Khari gives her sister a peculiar look, before quipping, "Uncle Gar, you know lots of stuff. D'you know where I can get some men's underwear? I want a present for Auntie Lirra. She's gonna spawn, too, and Mum says 'tis nice t'give presents to big fat spawning people." Kassi coughs, obligated to note, "I didn't put it quite *that* way...." G'har blinks a few times, then suggests drolly, "I could give you some of my underwear for her, Khari. I'm sure R'ehn would just -love- that." After all, he's the one who's supposed to spawn with Lirra. And, yes, G'har is joking. To Kaylira, he says, with a shrug, "Sorry. Take it up with the Harpers? That's the way I was always taught." Maybe G'har is joking, but Kharisma hasn't quite grasped the concept of sarcasm yet. "Ooh, Uncle Gar, would you? And 'twould make Uncle Ren happy too? That's wunnerful! I can't rest 'til I've got underpants, 'cause I *promised* Lyssiath that we'd find some for Auntie Lirra." Strangled snickers can be heard coming from Kassima's direction. The greenrider is definitely enjoying this. "Mayhaps I will," Kaylira decides, sticking out her chin a bit. "Great-Grandsire is a Harper--one of 'em is, anyway--and Uncle Keyssar's a Harper too, so they've got to listen to me, don't they? And change the word?" G'har casts a decidedly amused look in Kassi's general direction. "-Why- does it have to be underwear, Khari? What's Lirra going to do with it?" -Don't- say 'make a profit.' "And Uncle Ren might not like it, I don't know." Kay gets an agreeable nod. "Sure, they have to listen. I'm not sure if they'll change it, though. They have to talk to the Masters and all, and get the Craftmaster to agree, too." Kaylira insists stubbornly, "They'll have t'do it, 'cause I'm going t'be Weyrleader someday, and so I'll know *all about* lechery--Weyrleaders do--and I'll know more about it than they will, so they'll have t'be taking m'word on how the word *should* be spelled." Kassima, looking rather concerned, is quick to explain, "I *didn't* tell her Weyrleaders are lechers, honest." Kharisma is for once unconcerned by lechery. "She's gonna *paint* 'em! And maybe she'll let me help! And when we've got 'em all painted with pink and orange and that weird red thing she painted on one pair, the set of rings, y'know, she can hang 'em up over the spawnling's bed and she can see them all the time and think, 'Wow, painted underpants!'" The girl beams when she finishes this speech. Isn't it a grand plan? G'har doesn't look at all disturbed by Kaylira's stubborn insistence. He starts to reply to her, but then Khari speaks, and, well, G'har is just too busy muffling his snickers. He honestly looks like he hurts himself in an effort not to outright laugh at the little girl. "I think," he agrees. "That that's a worthy plan. If your mother'll stop by my weyr on your way home, I'll find some that you can give to Lirra." Finally responding to Kay, he adds, "Some Weyrleaders are lecherous, kiddo, but some really aren't. Ever met L'tan?" Khari's delighted smile is a testimony to the worthiness of an effort not to laugh at small children's dreams sometimes. "Thankee, Uncle Gar! I'll tell Auntie Lirra how nice you were when she opens her gift! I'm sure she'll be real stirprised!" Kassi has her mouth covered by her hand to choke her snickers. Kaylira, though, is pondering this odd concept. "They *aren't*? But they ride *bronzes*, don't they? Even Da's got t'be somewhat lecherous, 'cause I've got a brother and a sister and all, and... nay, I don't know him. Is he lecherous? Do people burn his underwear?" G'har's expression softens at Khari's smile, and he reaches over to ruffle her hair. "You're welcome, kiddo. You don't have to tell Auntie Lirra that they're mine, though. That's okay." Grin extending to Kaylira, he shakes his head. "He has to be one of the least lecherous people I know, matter of fact. And nobody's burned his underwear, though his Habrith burned a dress once, I heard." Kaylira asks, confused, "Burned a dress? Was someone trying t'make him wear it?" Kassima is in terrible shape at this point; she's fallen on her back and is snickering fit to beat the band, decorum be darned. Kharisma gives her mother a somewhat concerned look before asking--with a giggling protest at the hair-ruffle--"But don't you want Auntie Lirra t'know how nice you are, if'n you and she are gonna spawn someday? You should prolly spawn a brownrider, y'know. Or a bluerider. 'Cause you've already *got* a greenrider and a bronzerider, so you need different colors." G'har's explanation to Kay is rather distracted. "His weyrmate wore it, and he didn't like it, so when she took it off, Habrith burned it. I think. Uh... Khari? I don't think Auntie Lirra and I are ever going to spawn. See, she's Uncle Ren's weyrmate, after all, and I've got a weyrmate, too." Kaylira settles in to ponder that, being quiet for a merciful change. That leaves only Kharisma to wreak further havoc this round. "But Uncle *Gar*, you and her would be wunnerful parents. You both let kids paint stuff. Maybe you and Auntie Lirra and Uncle Ren and your weyrmate could all move in together for awhile? There'd only be one letch'rous bronze, so Fal wouldn't have t'give up being the letch'rous one, even!" G'har casts an accusing look towards Kassi. "Like dragon, like spawn?" he suggests, in an aside. Then, turning back to Khari, he shakes his head. "I don't think that'd work, kiddo. See, then two of us would have to transfer, and none of us want to do that. But I'll tell you what--if I ever have kids with anybody but my weyrmate, I'll try to have it be with Auntie Lirra." Yay vague promises. Kassima manages to sit up and hold up her hands in protest. "I swear, I didn't say a *thing* t'her!" Indeed, Khari seems suitably confused. This latter statement brightens her, though. "You're the best, Uncle Gar!" she enthuses. In a lower voice, that not-whisper that children use, she confides, "Thankee for nay wanting t'spawn with Mum. I'm gonna have too many sibs already, and Uncle 'Lex says I'll prolly have as many as Mum has 'lizards someday." Understandably, she sounds rather horrified by this prospect. G'har nods at Khari's comment, with a wry grin. "Well, no offense to your mum, of course, but somehow I think that spawning with her would be a bad idea, yeah. I'll just stick with Auntie Lirra." Faranth help G'har when Khari repeats this conversation. You'd think he'd learn. The rider just nods to Kassi, that nod that one uses when he doesn't quite believe what he's hearing. Kassima sticks her tongue out at G'har. Maturity incarnate, she ain't. "Thankee so much, Weyrsecond sir," she replies with mock-indignance. "Mayhaps that's a title I should go for: Most Horrifying Greenrider of Pern To Spawn With. I'm still trying for Craziest Greenrider, but I rather figure Jh'rin or A'ser t'have that one covered." Regretful sigh. Kharisma, of course, simply *beams* and flings herself at the poor man for an impromptu hug. Awww. G'har oofs softly as he catches the little girl, then looks over her head to give her mother a thoroughly unrepentant look. "Well, come -on-, Kassi. Think about it... if -we- had a kid? That's just scary." Shaking his head, he adds, "And quit with the sir-ing, huh? You've been a rider a lot longer than I have--" No, he's not saying she's old, really. "--and I get enough of that from the weyrlings." Kassima asks dryly, "Scarier than the Jh'rin-Kassima spawn whom you're currently holding? Though, you're probably right. I've already doomed the world t'two bronzer-spawn; nay use contributing more to the horrific mass." She pulls Kaylira into her lap, but the girl doesn't protest; she, at least, seems to finally be getting tired. "And aye, I have been. Thankee for reminding me of that." Another pthbt. "*And* of that there'll be Weyrlings ma'aming me soon. Feh. You save ma'aming for the old and respectable." "And you're neither," G'har replies impishly. "Faranth help us the day you turn respectable, Kassi. And I do think," he adds, "That our kid would be at least as scary as Khari here. Speculation's about as far as we're going to get, though." Kassima grins and takes a bow, or as much of one as she can while seated, with a spawn on her lap, and four and a half months pregnant to boot. This isn't saying much. "Finally, someone's willing nay t'protest the point! For which I thank you. And aye, I concur. The spawnlets would probably never forgive me if'n I wound up giving 'em *more* sibs down the road, much less sibs who were even scarier than they. True Evil-Spawn." G'har says mildly, "We can compare evil if Mina and I ever have kids, but that's sort of unlikely just now." His tone suggests that 'unlikely' is an understatement. "Too busy. I swear, I think I'm going to leave the weyrlingmaster crew once this lot graduates, so maybe Mina and I can see each other more often without one of us being asleep or working." Kassima admits ruefully, ruffling Kay's hair as the girl starts to doze off--much, it might be noted, like her sister--"I don't have much time with mine, either, and I'm certes nay of your rank. Can't say I blame you. One reason I advocate singleness: if'n you or your weyrmate ever get above Wingrider, you seem t'never wind up seeing each other. More trouble than 'tis worth, isn't it?" G'har shakes his head, sounding utterly sincere as he says, "Kassi, having Mina is worth all the trouble of finding time to be with her." His gaze flickers out of focus, and he adds, "Speaking of that, it sounds like Gaudiorth's looking for us. I'll bring the underwear for Khari tomorrow morning or something, if you want to spare the kids a hop Between?" Kassima shakes her head in a resigned lack of understanding. "If'n you say so. Though, even I'll admit that 'tis nice t'have someone, sometimes." Is this Kassi talking? Changing the subject swiftly, she agrees with gratitude, "That'd be fantastic, truly. Want t'be handing the little minxlet over? Methinks she's fallen asleep on you. *Finally.* Grown-up talk seems t'bore 'em right to it; I should try this more oft." G'har peeks down at Khari, then nods, with a smile that -almost-, for a moment, looks wistful. "Yeah, she's asleep. They really are great kids, Kassi," he adds, getting carefully to his feet and shifting the younger girl into his arms. "I can hand her up to you once you're on Lysseth, if you like?" Kassima grins with pride at the compliment, even as she gives Kaylira a light nudge. "C'mon, love. Time t'head back to the Icy Wastes. I'd appreciate that a lot, G'har, truly; I wish the bloody Healers would take sleeping spawn into account when they dole out all this 'Don't lift heavy objects' nonsense." [Editor's Note: And at this point, G'har had to go, so we ended the scene here.]