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Sibling Rivalry


Date:  Decenber 10, 2003
Place:  Telgar Weyr's Inner Caverns
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:  Isawen, the sister of Rahlan of the poisoned candies,
seems no fonder of some of his antics than he is of hers.  When Kassi
and Kai wander into the IC after a bath one night, they put themselves
in a good place to hear out her problems and--in the latter's case--
be kidnapped away by a most considerate father.

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The Log:

You travel along the tunnel into the Weyr, leaving drips of water behind you.

I'sai has to laugh, from where he's perched on the table near where Isawen
sits, there in the cavern that's otherwise empty this time of ni...
morning, "Maybe inequity too, if it's all unfair... 'den of corruption'.
I'll have to remember that. And 'Rahlan''s your brother, I take it." He
eyes her sidelong, "And you're spending much time guarding him from
corruption, I'm certain."

Isawen nods seriously at that. "Oh, yes, that's why I had to dunk him in
the snow like that. After all, mom would have my hide if I let the poor boy
pick up any habits at the Weyr before I dragged him to the safety of home."
By that time she can't keep a straight face, especially at calling the
troublemaker a 'poor boy'.

Kassima's shoes--slippers, not boots--leave an inevitable trail of droplets
glistening in their wake... or maybe those are from her hair, tightly
braided and still sodden enough to drip-drip-drip down her back and onto
the floor if her unlucky clothing doesn't catch the water first. Along with
this, the shoes make a faint squelching sound, and there are towels draped
both over her shoulders and around a similarly damp and very wriggly
Kaisan. Maybe they're clues! Maybe it was Kassima, in the Hot Springs, with
the scrub brush! "Oh," she says brightly, as her path takes her near the
conversing pair, "is corruption being discussed? Who's offering whom the
pointers?"

I'sai breathes, "So -that's- who - no _wonder_ he was going for - and one
of the assistants wouldn't - ha. Well. A brother does have a right, you
know, and I suppose..." he turns, and then suddenly grins. "Kassi. You're
still up. And she's quite the expert, evidently - " he squints to see,
then: kid or solid towels?

Isawen protests, "Brothers what? Have the right to be a horrible brat?" She
nods at Kassima, grinning at the active Kaisan as well. "I think I owe you
one..." she addresses the former. "I didn't get the whole story out of
Rahlan, but he was very squeamish about the whole...ordeal."

If the towels are moving like that of their own volition, Telgar has
problems and its people should flee screaming to seek refuge on far Timor.
But no: at the squint, Kassi tugs at the towels until Kai's flushed,
scrunched, and not entirely content face is better visible. "Aren't I
*always* up?" she asks wryly, but not without tired humor. "In fact, is
there an alternative t'being up? I seem t'remember this thing... this
strange, mythical state where you'd lie down and close your eyes and then
hours later you'd feel rested... but the memories are all foggy and
a-scatter." If Kaisan weren't so very young, he'd probably choose now to
look smug. Behold his evil. "Y'mean about the poisoned candies?" she asks
Isawen, now decidedly and clearly amused. "Glad t'be of service. I must
admit, I particularly enjoyed the bit about washing eyeballs out of
clothing--g'deve, by the by, t'you both, as I should've said in the first
place."

"That too," I'sai says rather smugly, and on that note, reaches up to
little Kai once he's identified as himself and not a tunnelsnake
substitution. His expression, now, that earns a short pause but then he
valiantly follows through anyway. "Poison -candies-? She didn't tell me
about that part. Oh, and Kassi, we have a T-u-r-n-d-a-y to concern
ourselves with, let's not forget."

"Good evening." Isawen laughs, "Poisoned... That would explain why they
ended up in my hair eventually. But I don't think I've ever seen Rahlan so
well behaved as he was immediately after that meal. He actually admitted -
admitted! - to me that he was wrong about something, and I don't think
that's ever happened before." She shakes her head in amazement and a bit of
a smirk comes about as she adds, "It must have been the eyeballs."

Kassima makes a face at I'sai, but nevertheless steps that much closer to
make Kai the more accessible to his father; Kaisan turns his face in the
direction of that hand, and while his eyes haven't yet shifted color,
they've become ever so much more adept at focusing. "If'n you'd like t'hold
the little wriggle-beast..." Kassi magnanimously offers. To his credit, the
baby, despite that expression, doesn't squall. Yet. He does kick within the
towels, though. "You're *entirely* too pleased, which makes me think he
should spend a night or two in your weyr so you can have the sweet delight
of his morning--and midnight--and nigh every hour in between seranade. Has
she been telling the story?" There's an amused glance for Isawen there.
"And ach, don't I know it. What think you, should we try t'take her t'see
your family *and* mine right on the day this Turn, just to make it all the
more an adventure?" There's sly mirth behind 'adventure': that would be one
word for it. "--In your... aigh! Well, I didn't intend *that*, Isawen, for
what 'tis worth. How much of the story have you told; should I clarify
details? And what was the admission about? Though methinks I can guess."

And their little terror doesn't yet have teeth to sink into I'sai's wrist,
either, as Is picks him up and shelters him high on his shoulder. "It's a
very cold weyr," he informs. "Cold and lonely and infested with
eyebrow-eating firelizards." Firelizard, singular. "I heard about sweets,
yes, but nothing about poisoned, for real or for pretend... and speaking of
sweets, let's visit mine first," before Kisai's hopped up on them and Is
can do his duties and vanish. "And what I really want to know is whether
you've admitted -you- were wrong about something. To him. And whether it
wasn't just something like, oh, 'I was wrong to think you were actually
responsible.'"

Isawen shakes her head at Kassima, "It's alright, it washed
out...eventually, and it's really not the worst he's done. I think he just
had to make up for being good for a few days with something rotten. That's
the only part I'd gotten around to telling..." The smirk is much more
evident as she declares, "And he admitted that his whole theory about
coming here and somehow Impressing was wrong." I'sai gets a curious look
and she points out, evasively, "I can't recall an instance where I was
wrong about something important and -he- was right..."

Sink teeth, no; Kaisan does kick again, though, and make a sound that's
distinctly protesting at being moved, but he seems to settle a bit once
placed. Trust him to be better-behaved for his father. "But his eyebrows
are too wee t'be worth the snacking, compared t'your feast of a pair,"
Kassi protests at her sweetest, attempting to reach a fingertip to brush
across one of the bronzerider's brows: does it tickle? "And as for cold and
lonely, why, that only makes me the more certain you need him there, poor
man. For companionship. The sweets: he had a pile of 'em, clearly filched
by how he was trying t'hide him, so I said something about being glad I was
having other dinner than just that so 'twould nay get the disease that
liquifies your intestines and makes you die an inglorious death on the
latrines; he mentioned feeling a bit queasy, and *that* turned into the
Bakers setting out the sweets as a trap in order t'poison him--or feed him
laxatives, one of those. We told him he'd best eat plenty of bread and meat
and the like so those foods could sop up the poisons. And then there was
the bit about his family leaving tunnelsnake heads in his cot and the
eyebrows rotting out and getting all *over* his clothes...." She's
reporting this with far too much relish. "--Yours first sounds good t'me.
We've an excuse to escape then," she teases. "But I'm thinking that 'Maeva
should watch Kai for the day. He's a bit young for *between* yet, and I'd
rather it be *Kiss's* day." Her nod to Isawen is somewhat relieved; "Good.
If'n you'd had t'cut it out of your hair I'd have felt a right git. Ah-hah!
Well, *good*. Wasn't entirely sure he believed me. 'Twas clear he didn't
believe you--what's this wrong you should be admitting?"

I'sai cuts to the chase with an amused, "That'd be a 'no,'" then, and that
with a decided smirk of his own, even though all the gentle baby-bouncing
he's now doing rather ruins the dastardly effect; he ducks the would-be
brow-combing, and gives his son's mother a wounded look, which at length
becomes gradually less and less focused. It -is- late, after all. He does
protest, "Hey, now, the worst I've seen bakers do is feed people
oddly-decorated eels, and I should know - " and then, "Aye, her own day,
she'd want that." He glances askance back at Isawen, then, perhaps to see
whether there are any remaining sweet-tangles.

Isawen laughs at Kassima's recitation, smiling in appreciation of the
clarification. "So -that's- why he was going on about a conspiracy by the
bakers to get him. He didn't actually say that he thought they were
poisoned, just tried to get other people to eat 'em. Which made those
people suspicious." She shakes her head, "And now I see why he didn't argue
anymore about going home. Glad he finally believes me. It's not like I'd
make that stuff up!" She sighs at further mention of an omission on her own
part. "Well, I'm sure when I was younger there was something- I mean, I'm
supposed to be in charge of him, so I can't go telling him I'm wrong all
the time, right?"

Kassima proves her maturity by sticking her tongue out at I'sai, and
mutters something about tunnelsnake heads in *his* bed. But it's hard for
her to be too peeved, watching the two of them, father and son, even if she
*does* match wounded look for wounded look and use her widest, saddest eyes
in the doing. "'Twasn't going t'*eat* them," she says. Then, "I've seen
worse than that; but nay, I don't think they'd *truly* poison sweets.
Served him right t'think they would after stealing 'em, is all. 'Twas
m'thought," about Kisai's own day. "But you do realize that means you'll
have t'take Kai another time for your mother t'meet. I somehow doubt she'll
let you get away with nay." Her turn to look almost smug enough to smirk.
She tries not to, though, in her dubious mercy. "He tried t'poison *other*
people? That lad really is the absolute end. I nigh feel sorry for the
Candidates if'n he *does* end up among their number. He has 'prankster'
written all about him in great, flaming letters; and I'd say nay on the one
hand, but on the other, he might appreciate an occasional confession. Be
less apt t'think you're a know-it-all or the like. But Is is more the
authority on the perspective of a younger brother than 'twill ever be."

I'sai, once he's done sniffing oh so mournfully back at Kassima,
exaggerated both for general effect and its effect on Kaisan, returns to
Isawen's comment: "If you -aren't- wrong, no point in it, unless both of
you know full well you aren't wrong and you're just embarrassing him; but
if you are... if you are, and he catches you, and you keep trying to fake
it, well. He'll get caught. Believe you less." To Kassi, sweetly, "She's
all set for me to bring her by so she can spend some time for -you-, too.
Bright and early tomorrow, if you're willing," and on that note he stifles
an only half-feigned yawn on poor Kaisan's head - who promptly steals the
opportunity to reach for his shirt collar, of course, and succeeds - and
slides down from his perch.

Isawen nods in agreement with some of Kassima's comments. "Maybe he'll
think twice about stealing sweets from now on. They can't be very good for
him to be eating all the time, anyway. He certainly doesn't need the extra
energy." She looks a little more uncomfortable when the topic is on her own
admittance of wrong though, especially at I'sai's words. "Well, it makes
sense when you say it like -that-..."

Kassima sallies with her best, most lower-lip-protruding pout. A shame
she's trying not to laugh; it somewhat spoils the effect. But then:
"--What?" she asks with surprise and hastily-concealed dismay, caught off
her toes; proof that *she's* tired. "Oh, but Is, why should she want time
with *me*? Y'know she'd sooner have the time all with *you*... which I
belatedly realize isn't the best argument t'use... but 'twill make you a
deal. I'll indulge your mother's wishes if'n *you* stay through the whole
visit. Bargain?" She'd sound and look sterner if she weren't smiling at her
son's collar thievery, mind you; and her, "You look tired yourself," has
some genuine solicitousness. "--Oh, aye, I wasn't entirely kidding about
the whole rotting your insides thing. I'm all for children having tons and
tons and tons of sweets, *particularly* right a'fore they spend a lot of
time with their fathers, but other things should be eaten *too*." She's
good enough not to vocally add to Isawen's discomfort by pursuing the
topic, but her eyes do gleam suspiciously.

"Of course it does," I'sai says affably to Isawen, "Which won't preclude me
from turning it around the other way another time... but think about it.
And good night, all right?" He doesn't wait for an answer, though, turning
to Kassi: "No bargain, no bargain at all. I'm just bringing her, and as
soon as you see her, you can cut and run. And in the meantime... in the
meantime, I'll wander off with this boy, here, and you can find me - or
I'll find you - when he's ready to eat. Give you a little break," and after
a quick check of her expression to ascertain that's all's well, he wanders
off with Kaisan, murmuring what are no doubt scurrilous little-brother
instructions into the baby's ear.

I'sai walks off towards the Telgar Weyr Nursery.

"But I still think..." Isawen begins, only to trail off as I'sai makes his
departure. "Hmm, well, I'll think about it. But what if he does somehow end
up getting Searched? Am I supposed to admit that I'm wrong when I'm not
-really- wrong, but his getting Searched makes me partially wrong, only not
in theory?" She frowns, only confusing herself all the more.

"You evil fiend," Kassi says of I'sai in response to no-bargain, but at
least there's some admiration behind it. "But the cut-and-run is a notion,
since he's too young for me t'worry *too* much what she might be saying of
you or me in m'absence...." Something she's been wary of with her own
mother. When he offers her that break, though, gratitude displaces all
teasing or mock-accusation, and she murmurs clearly heartfelt thanks before
he leaves. "Just as well he left so soon," she quips, watching them go. "It
spares him a pathetically grateful hug. Well, nay, I'd say nay, because you
*aren't* wrong; 'tis still truth that his chances of being Searched would
have been the same at the Hold. If'n he's meant for a dragon, 'tis likely a
Searchrider would find him. Doesn't mean 'twould nay expect him t'crow
about it and say you were the wrongest wrong woman in Wrongonia, though."

Isawen sighs helplessly at the last bit, nodding her head in agreement.
"I'm sure he would, too. And if I did admit I was wrong about something,
he'd constantly be bringing it up in unrelated matters either to annoy or
discredit me." She winces and some sense of honesty forces her to admit,
"Though it would be just as bad for me to pretend I'm right when I am
wrong, cause he does deserve to know. Funny, but I almost wish our parents
were here to deal with him instead!"

Kassima admits, "True. Have I mentioned that 'tis glad I am t'be an only
child? Because I am. Just for the record. All the same, Is had a point
earlier, and I agree with you that there's a lack of truth in claiming
rightness when you know you aren't--something better saved for jests or
light matters, and nay those serious. Shells, what's funny about that? Why
should you want t'deal with him?"

"I'm his older sister," Isawen says slowly. "I'm supposed to look after
him. It's what older sisters, do, you know?" For the first time, she looks
a little uncertain about that. "I know he managed to get himself here
alive, and all that, but something -could've- happened on the way here. And
then I would've been along, not too far behind, to help him. That's why I
was sent after him...to bring him home safely..."

Kassima considers her surroundings and takes up perching residence on the
recently-vacated table, since it's convenient and all. "I don't necessarily
agree it should *have* t'be what they do," she admits, "unless they want
to--y'know what I mean? You didn't decide t'bring him into the world; why
should *you* have t'take care of him? But I know most parents do seem
t'encourage their kidlings to look at it that way. All the same, you can
want t'help him but still feel out of your depth or wish your parents were
here t'help or even take it on in your place. I see nay surprise or shame
in that."

Isawen thinks that over carefully, her thoughts are somewhat sluggish in
the middle of the night. "I do want to help him. He just doesn't want that
help. I expected by the time I found him, he'd be tired of trying to make
it on his own and want to come home. But he's not. And I'm beginning to
feel a little unneccesary." A frown and she ammends, "At least until I
catch him trying to dye the steam bath pools different colors. Not that he
appreciates that sort of 'help'."

Kassima chews on her lower lip, giving that a mulling over. "He's nay what
I'd call an adult," she says at length, "but he's nay bairn either. Nay
quite yet fourteen, 'twas, when I left home t'see Pern, which is perhaps
more a sign of me being an *idiot* than me being ready, but I survived and
did all right--he might too. 'Tis nay reflection on you as sister. Only
that he might be nearer t'leaving home for good, if'n that's his ultimate
inclination, than you thought." Pause. "But if'n he doesn't stop with the
pranking, he's apt t'find himself leaving home only t'end up skinned. If'n
you want, you can tell him you heard from a rider that the Weyrfolk got so
tired of the pranksters in the last Candidate class that they stole them
from their very beds one night and sewed them all together with Healers'
sutures, skin t'skin, so that they'd be too unwieldy t'ever wreak havoc
again."

Isawen nods very seriously, considering most of this with a frown. At the
last part she cracks a smile. "You know, I think I will tell him that. You
wouldn't know it by some of the things he does, but he's actually quite a
nice boy when he feels like it." She gets that 'older sister' look for just
a moment. "But don't tell him I said that, I'm sure he'd be horrified at
the thought."

"Many lads and men are nice when they *feel* like it," says Kassi, grinning
wryly. "What can frustrate, depending, is how seldom they do. You've
m'solemn oath 'twill say nary a word. Methinks Kay, Khari, Kim, and Kiss
would all have m'hide if'n I ratted on an elder sister to her younger
brother anyway, or at the very least I'd never hear the end of it."

Isawen smiles, half in gratitude, half in amusement at that oath.
"Admitting things aside, little brothers don't need to know -everything-."
She rubs her eyes, peering towards the dormitories once again. "He must be
asleep by now... Hopefully it's safe to go to bed, before I fall asleep on
this table." She excuses herself as she gets to her feet. "I guess I have a
lot to think about where Rahlan's concerned. But thank you for giving
me...a little different perspective." She nods as she turns towards the
sleeping quarters. "Have a good night."

"A'course nay," Kassi agrees at her most sage. "That's the elder sister's
job. They, after all, have greater need of blackmail. But by all means,
scoot--the hour's bloody late!--and you're quite welcome. Glad t'be of
assistance, if'n twas." She slides into a chair at the table, the better to
fold her arms across the table's surface and lay her head on them: someone
plans to catch a nap while Is is off being a saint, evidently. "You, too!"
she calls. "And dream nay of what else Rahlan might put in your hair!"

Isawen heads towards the corridor to the weyrfolk quarters.