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Marital Difficulties


Date:  August 3, 2004
Place:  Telgar Weyr Hot Springs
Game:  PernMUSH
Copyright Info:  The World of Pern is copyright(c) to Anne McCaffrey 
l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.

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Kassi's Note:  Metri might be the most toothsome wench in all the land,
and Kassima the most handsome and virile of men, but it would seem 
their marriage is just not working out.  The squabbling and accusations
of cheating continue.  Fortunately, there's a splash-war with Amarie
and Jaleran to distract them--and wonder of wonders, miracle of 
miracles, nobody actually drowns anybody else! ;)

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The Log:

Metri walks in from outside the room.

At least there's no attempted seduction by Holder women of the great hunk
of studmuffinliness that is Kassima going on right *now*. Will wonders
never cease. No; the baths are free of swooning women, and reasonably
peaceful, with few of the pools occupied--the sole exception holds the
greenrider, neck-deep and surrounded by a cloud of her own black hair. Her
head's tilted back, possibly watching the steam play against what of the
sky is visible through that entranceway. And Lysseth has decided that the
sunning ledge would be a better place for her than a pool, for once, and so
resides above with her tail-tip tapping lazy patterns against stone.

"Dooot, doooty dooty...I'm a little trundlebug, short and stout...here is
my wiggler here is my snout." Metri, a towel draped over one shoulder,
meanders in, singing to the beat of his own footsteps. Lucky for him that
Kassi's all alone; that rage of his might cause a bit of a ruckus. On
second thought, any women that might be swooning over Kassima would swoon
over him much sooner, if they had any sense. Which most don't, according to
the company he keeps. As is usual, he notices Lysseth first; she gets a
brief wave before he spots Kassima and he 'hmphs'. "Me taking care of the
house and you sitting here on your bum," he complains good-naturedly,
walking to the edge of the pool and peering down at her.

Hey! Is someone implying that Kassi isn't perfectly swoonable? Granted,
she'd probably be just as happy if any *women* who might swoon did swoon at
Metri, but the problem is that she wouldn't trust Metri to leave it at
swooning. Then there'd be dual rage to contend with. Oh, horrors. "Isn't
that song supposed t'be about a teapot?" she asks drowsily without yet
lowering her eyes. Lysseth rumbles a noncommital greeting. "I'm fairly sure
about that." The greenrider turns her head enough to offer
Metri-who-lurks-above a grin, and adds, "Only because *I* have been slaving
away all day t'earn our keep, 'twill have you remember! Why, at the end of
m'workday 'twas all over mud and had torn at least fifty muscles, but I
didn't once complain. Nay, I just said, 'I do this all for m'good woman,
who's waiting at home for me, and I shan't regret a thing.' But now that
you've accused me of *lazing*...."

Telgar Weyr> Carlile says, "Is everyone sleeping?"

Telgar Weyr> Metri is having a marital issues...might have to figure out an
unviolent way for divorce.

Telgar Weyr> Metri says, "My hubby is lazing again."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "I *am not*! I told you, I worked fifty-seven
hours today and tore sixty muscles in my back *alone* trying to keep you
fed and in baby booties, and this is the thanks I get.... *Grumble
grumble.* I should so dump you for that red-headed chick."

Telgar Weyr> Carlile grins and waggles her eyebrows :)

"Ah, bah on you. All I do is work work work and all you do is laze laze
laze, you oaf. And you didn't tear all those muscles. That's what you said
last week, and we /know/ what happened /last week/." He wiggles his
eyebrows suggestively. "Knew I should have married the harper...yes, it's
about a teapot. I'm just more creative." I should have been a harper! I
should have learned to scribe and rhyme.... Ahem. Surely, he must be more
creative. Tossing the towel on his shoulder off to the side, Metri takes a
decent dive into the pool, gliding beneath the water until he's about
center before breaking surface to breath. "Spent all day washiung dragons
and I feel more dirty than I did in the stables, I'm so sick in the head."

Telgar Weyr> M'hon sighs and is out in the cold :( ;)

Telgar Weyr> Lanisa grins, Sorry. One of the first things da said to me
about you, M'hon was stay away ;)

"I did so tear those muscles last sevenday," Kassi answers primly. "And you
know very well *how*, too." She can waggle her brows with the rest of them,
and does. "I don't recall you complaining about it at the *time*. Harpers!
Those oil-peddlers. *They* don't work; they just prance about all day,
going 'La la la.' Which does make it a fitting-sounding Craft for *you*,
dearest bride." Sniff. She breaks character to observe with another grin,
"I give that dive a seven. More dirty than in the *stables*? What, did you
get stuck mopping up after a Wing's drill? You'd better nay be implying the
dragons were messy in the same way runner stalls are; methinks they'd take
offense."

Metri whines at her, backstroking in a small circle. "Only a seven? So
ungracious." He takes a breath, falls still, and sinks just enough to slick
his hair back with the momentum of coming back out again. That there is the
precise reason why he doesn't slick his hair back. Poor lad. "No, I"m not
saying they're more messy than runner stalls. I'm saying they collect more
dirt on them than runners do. My hands have been raisins for the past
couple hours, and then when they went back to normal I felt all unnatural
because I was dry. Splashers, you dragons," Metri directs at Lysseth
pointedly.

Kassima asks, reason itself, "Wouldn't it be terribly tragic if'n you had
made the perfect dive *now*, and for the rest of your life had naught
t'look forward to besides making inferior dives--and bearing m'children,
a'course?" She's good and doesn't comment on that delightful slick-backed
look, though one corner of her mouth does twitch. It does serve as
inspiration: she ducks her head beneath the water long enough to re-wet her
crown, and keep the forelock from drying as an uncombed mess. "Less dust,
'twould hazard, but I can't say they aren't dirty. You should wash one
after a Fall... or have you already? There's a sight and a half." From on
high comes the sound of laughter, contralto and vaguely human-like if one
ignores the rumbling element. "The Sky-Lady begs t'differ and informs that
she hasn't splashed a hapless Candidate in *Turns*. For my own part, 'twill
admit the truth of that, but add that she's drowned *me* plenty of times,
so there you go."

"Bearing tunnelsnake spawn is the worst of that," Metri teases. Finally
opting to sit still for a bit, he strokes his way to Kassima's side of the
pool, taking up a rest only a few feet away, sinking down until the water
level is just beneath his nose. "Brleru bluer bluuredb." Ah, well, talking
underwater works well, doesn't it. "After a Fall? Nope." That's much
better. "Better you than me. She picked you, after all."

"*Tunnelsnake spawn*!" gasps Kassima in far-exaggerated affront, sitting up
in the water and pressing one hand to her breastbone, half-covered by
sodden towel and drifting hair. "Well, if'n they are, 'twill be from *your*
side of the family, woman. When the bairns are born with forked tongues,
we'll know whose fault *that* is. Careful; I'd have t'explain it to the
Coordinators if'n you drowned." Funny how she sounds more amused than
worried. "Count yourself lucky. The ash and char Thread leaves is worse
than rope, and more of it--or used t'be. The Falls grow shorter these days.
Hah. But wouldn't you think 'twould mean she'd want t'preserve *my* life
and save her evil ways for others? Only it doesn't work that way. She's a
sadistic *wench*." Lysseth's only response is a very wide-jawed yawn.

Metri breaks into giggles, tilting his head back until it rests against the
side of the pool. He looks at her sideways, both arms behind his head,
grinning. "You're hopeless. SO dramatic, Kassima, you may rupture sometihng
acting like that." And he sounds genuinely concern, save for that laughter.
"You're little better than she is, from what I can tell," the candidate
decides mildly, raising one eyebrow before the other reluctantly follows suit.

Kassima's features rearrange themselves into an expression that's only a
hair from simpering. "Why, darling, does this mean you *care*?" she croons.
Then laughs, tipping her head back to rest it against the pool rim. "Ah,
shells, I'd nay worry about *that*; haven't ruptured a thing yet, and there
are several around the Weyr you could ask about how often I play a part.
Hey, now, when have I been a sadistic wench t'you? The issue of how I can
be a wench at all while being your virile and manly husband aside."

Amarie walks in from outside the room.

"Virile and manly? Stretching the truth a bit, aren't we dear?" He
stretches out of the pool, his words strained as he replies, "Your
reputation precedes you. And we're married, remember? I /know/ you." He
nods very sagely, wide-eyed and sober as anything. Which lasts for a whole
few seconds. "Not to mention you've just threatened to drown me." Nope,
that little comment didn't make it past the Super-Metri Sonar.

"Why, nary a whit. You'd think our thirteen children would've shown you how
virile and manly I am by now. But some people, I swear, they're so slow
t'learn...." Kassi heaves a woebegone sigh. She's up to her shoulders in
that same pool, her hair unbound and drifting about her in the water. "But
do tell me of this *reputation* of which you speak. Wait, I threatened
t'drown you?" Her head tilts to one side; she searches her memory. "Really?
I don't recall that, and I *usually* remember threats fairly well. 'Twould
nay drown you. Nay when there are so many more creative ways for you t'die,
m'dear, such as suffocated with the hair of that hussy I *know* you're
sleeping with." Little wonder she doesn't notice Amarie's entrance straight
away, all wrapped up in this Great and Undying Drama.

Amarie enters the cavern placing her towel and fresh clothes down. She
disrobes and climbs into the steam baths, carefully lowering herself into
the heated waters. Once there, she lets out a small sigh of absolute relief.

"For SHAME!" Metri pulls his own dramatic act, placing the back of his hand
to his forehead and sighing. "That you think I'd bed someone else, having
you about...and then you wonder why I am so cross with you." Splash.
Splash. At Kassima. For shame, shame. And a bit of fun. Amarie's sigh
catches his ears, however; he had been paying attention to the greenrider,
but now that Amarie's there, it's just one more person to get caught in the
crossfire. Three, two, one...SPLASH.

Jaleran walks in from outside the room.

"After you keep telling me I'm nay virile enough for you, saying you
should've left with some Harper, am I supposed t'believe that you
*wouldn't*? Have you ever thought about how that makes me feel? How any man
would feel, when the woman he loves says such things?" Kassi's voice
quavers with the tragedy of it all. She is not, however, able to work up a
credible tear--at least not before the splash hits her, at which point she
throws up her hands--too late--and yells, "Hey! Now who's drowning whom?"
They're both drowning each other, apparently. Because Kassi immediately
brings one arm down onto the water in a great slice to send an arc Metri's
way... not meant to hit Amarie too, but, well, she was perhaps a bit
careless. "Take *that*! And that, and--oops!"

Amarie flinches and yells, "HEY!" Her voice carries up the rocky walls to
the night sky overhead. She frowns at Metri and sends a wave of water back,
"Take that!" And woe should Kassima get splashed as well. She deserved it
for splashing Amarie in the name of splashing Metri.

Gurgling an "AHH" and raising his hands in surrender, Metri backpedals to
the center of the pool, shaking his face free of hair and water before
rubbing at his eyes. "I'm blind! Amarie, you've ruined my chances of
standing." He fakes blindness well, closing his eyes and swimming around
the pool until he very cleverly smacks into one of the sides. "Ouch."

Kassima only laughs at being splashed again, and sends splashes all the
mightier--well, until the 'I'm blind' call. "Are you all right?" she calls
back with genuine concern, though perhaps less of that than she'd show with
a Candidate less apt to say that in jest. The fakery allays even that; she
snorts, amused, and says, "Fair punishment! You've been rightly and justly
beaten, conquered fair and square. We are the champions of water-war,
Amarie and I. All hail us!" Sure. She throws her arms up in triumph and
victory, and doing so succeeds in losing her own precarious float--she
slips under the water, only to quickly resurface, shaking drops from her
eyes and lowering her arms with alacrity. "I meant," she announces, "t'do
that." What a scene this must be to walk in on.

Telgar Weyr> Metri says, "Everyone note that I am going to get a pet at
some point."

Telgar Weyr> Metri says, "Before I'm overwhelmed with the childbearing
process."

Telgar Weyr> Carlile wants a kitty. Wait, are you talking RL or VR? Either
way, I want a kitty :)

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Okay, but you get to potty-train it."

Telgar Weyr> Metri says, "I have a kitty in RL. I put her up on Hot Or Not
for a long time. She was hotter than 89% of women on the site. ;) I want
something VR too."

Jaleran wanders into the cavern with the intent to get in some quality
swimming time, but the splashes, shouts, and such remove that hope quickly.
But no point in being a hermit so he wanders up to the pool and disrobes,
hoping to slip into the water unnoticed while Metri is providing such a
convenient distraction. But with one foot in he decides to do something a
bit more fun. He gathers himself up and springs into the water, tucking
himself into a ball. "Look out below!"

Amarie shrieks as water splashes up to hit her in the face from Jaleran's
cannonball style into the pool. She giggles with laughter at Metri swimming
into the rocks and calls out, "Serves you right!" to him. She grins at
Kassima and waves her hands in a cheer with the woman.

"I'm HIT!" Metri careens at the mammoth waves caused by Jaleran. Submerging
just after the worst of it, he comes back up sputtering. "I'm blind and
Jaleran's suffocating me." He looks up at what he hopes is where Lysseth is
- after all, now he's all disoriented and stuff - furrowing his brows and
pulling his mouth in a frown. It's the best scowl he can pull of while
rubbing water out of his eyes. He looks more like a tired child. "And what
kind of dragon are you, just sitting there and watching all this while they
terrorize me?"

Kassima yelps automatically and throws her hands up again, for all the good
*that* does--naturally she gets soaked with water again, and ends up
spluttering with the best of them. Her hair's now everywhere, clinging to
her like the bandages of some demented midnight-black mummy. "Why d'you all
seek t'*torture* me so?" she wails. It'd be a more effective wail if it
weren't bubbling with laughter. Her green lifemate, thus addressed, just
peers down at Metri from the sunning ledge and warbles a note. Whatever was
said sends Kassi into snickers again; eventually she translates: "I'm a
sadistic wench. Weren't you listening when Kassima said as much?"

Jaleran surfaces laughing but ready to duck back under should anyone
recover enough to retaliate against him. He makes his way towards the
deeper parts of the pool warily, keeping an eye on Metri and Amarie, but
most especially on Lysseth. Didn't she just say she was a sadistic wench?
Best not to take chances.

Amarie keeps towards the shallows. She's not anti-social. She just knows
the tricks of the boys in the deeper waters. She ducks under water getting
her hair completely wet. Coming up she says, "Let that be a warning to you
both! Lysseth is on our side!" She grins at Kassima, even though no 'sides'
have been declared.

Metri nods knowingly at Lysseth, eyes still closed. "Ah, yes...I wasn't
paying enough attention." He's jolted out of his fake blindness at Amarie's
comment. "Kassima and Lysseth are conniving!" Metri warns, opening his eyes
to look at her closely. "They'll turn on you and you'll have no choice but
to stick booties up their nostrils to stop them!" That probaly won't work
as well as he thinks, but it's a valient suggestion.

Kassima says to Jaleran, shaking wet hair back from her face and grinning,
"Welcome to the jungle. I must say, *most* unfair of you 'tis t'perform
such an attack and then retreat!" But she's too relaxed to really pursue
the matter, leaning back against the rim and sighing. Her dragon, on the
sunning ledge, seems disinclined to descend as doom from above, so there's
one mercy. "Always!" she agrees with Amarie cheerfully enough, not seeming
to mind being 'drafted.' "--Booties *up our nostrils*! I defy you t'try!
Such would only wreak m'most terrible vengeance, and Lysseth's most
terrible wrath, and the next time she was proddy I'd probably come after
you determined t'de-gender you with a pot of klah."

Jaleran smirks from his spot in the deeps, "If it's unfair and it works,
it's not unfair." He misquotes the old truism with a grin before taking a
full breath and jack-knifing into a dive under the water. Swimming slowly
to not make any wake on the surface he makes his way towards Metri.

"Speaking of booties, do you think Yselle needs some for her baby?" Amarie
asks. She looks concerned. "I can try knitting some I suppose, but would I
find the yarn in the stores or would I need to ask a seamstress?" She looks
at Kassima for the answer. "Mum always had her yarn in a press at home with
all the sewing stuff."

Metri treads water easily, ignoring the fact that Jaleran has disappeared.
It'll probably result in his drowning, but whatever will be will be. To
Kassi, he grins slyly and says, "Dare me to try, dear husband? I did leave
the booties on my cot, but I'm willing to take a small break to fetch
them." A bat of the eyelashes and a flip of wet hair. As for sewing, Metri
is clueless, and to minimize the visibility of this, he doesn't say a word
to Amarie about booties.

"Oh, 'tis still *unfair*, regardless. The question is whether fairness
matters, and whether dirty tactics are worth having vengeful greenriders
sneak up behind you some night, while you're on your way t'your cot, and
dump a bucket of water fresh and steaming from the Springs over your head."
Kassi's smile is sweetness, light, and innocence all in one. Just look at
that halo shine! Above, Lysseth's eyes whirl just that much bluer. "A
seamstress would probably have yarn, but there's usually some in
storage--try the textile cavern," she suggests to Amarie. "I'm sure Ys
would love some booties. Or a blanket, or cap, or aught t'keep the bairn
warm; 'twill need all the warmth it can get, winter-born, you'd best
believe." That's enough seriousness for one moment, apparently: soon she's
making a kissy face at Metri. "I know you'd be glad, m'dear, but you're
going t'*need* those booties in a few months. You don't want poor Amarie
thinking she needs t'make 'em for you, too!"

"Then I will make her something very useful indeed," Amarie nods looking
absolutely certain in her decision. She moves away from the shallows,
braving her way into deeper waters momentarily.

Metri blows air out of his mouth towards his face as best he can, hauling
himself out of the pool and wrapping his towel around his hips. Assuming a
position between the two ladies, he sits on the edge of the pool, flicking
water with his feet infrequently. "Tunnelsnakes don't take well to
booties," is his response to Kassima, and he grins at Amarie. "We need no
booties here, my hubby is quite capable."

Kassima mutters, "I still think you should've *told* me 'twere descended
from tunnelsnakes a'fore we married... don't you think so, Amarie? That's
your name, isn't it? Another Candidate told me so." She isn't quite ready
to get out of the water, but does shift up enough that her elbows are
propped against the rim behind her. "This is where I'd normally say,
'Capable's *one* word for it,' and then rrowr, but I prefer nay t'be beaten
t'death by Coordinators who misunderstand."

"Yes it is ma'am," Amarie nods to Kassima. "And yes he should have told you
he was descended from all sorts of vile creatures before having your baby."
She nods seriously saying, "You will surely have to punish him for his
misbehavior." After leaving with that carefully crafted suggestion surely
implanted on Kass's mind, Amarie swims to the shore and pulls out, wrapping
her towel around herself. "Good night Metri. Enjoy it." She heads out.

Amarie walks off towards the Inner Cavern.

Metri mutters, "Thanks alot, Am," as she gets out of the pool. "Not that
she needed any ideas, but you're not helping the situation." Now he's
talking and Amarie's not there. Figures. "I did tell you," he protests. "I
/told/ you that my mum wasn't all normal; tell lies about me, doncha."

A grimace flashes across Kassi's face. "Augh! I've been *ma'amed*!" She
pantomimes clasping hands to heart and slumping down in the water, 'dead.'
Not before indulging in some dramatic spasms and twitches and groaning,
mind you. Blessedly, they're brief; her demise is even briefer before she
straightens up and swings up out of the pool, water sheeting off the towel
she wore into the Springs; she settles herself and reaches to her left to
rummage among her things for a silver comb. "'Wasn't all normal' and 'part
tunnelsnake' are *nay synonymous*," she scolds, attacking her hair. "You
could have warned me! I thought 'twere referring t'her unnatural liking of
fruitcake!"

Watching her attack that mane keeps Metri occupied for a decent amount of
time. His own hair is given little more than a two-handed, very wild
ruffling and then is further ignored. "Shaffit, thought you were dead," he
banters, looking at the water and snapping. "So close. And my mum's liking
of fruitcake is /purely/ natural!" It's probably the stuff she puts in the
fruitcake that's a bit unnatural. He winks, hoisting to his feet. "You keep
at that hair of yours, hunny, I'm sure it'll behave at some point. If not,
we can always try the bald look. I'll love you either way. Mwah!" Metri
presses his lips to his hands, giving an exaggerated farewell kiss as he
drags towards the exit. "To the cavern to get a mug of juice and a slice or
two of bread, and then to bed with me," he explains. "Need my beauty sleep."

It's amusing to imagine what Kassi's hair would look like if she went that
route; unbraided, it's down to her calves, and that much wild ruffling
would probably create something that looked like a tiny Tarzan should be
swinging through it. "You won't get rid of me that easily, sweet light of
m'heart!" she sings. "And *nay* liking of fruitcake can be considered
natural! Will do; but I'm nay *about* t'let you shave m'head again.
Remember what I did t'you after *last* time?" She does the fake menacing
thing relatively well. But she 'catches' and then returns the blown kiss
with a hearty smack and the best soppy look she can muster. "G'night,
m'sweet. 'Twill see you in your dreams, I'm sure." Yeah.

"I'm not so sure, but don't want to break your heart," Metri says by way of
farewell, and ducks out of the cavern all at once, as though she might
pursue and/or maim him. Ahh, attack of the Kassi!

Metri walks off towards the Inner Cavern.