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A Favored Method of Persuasion


Date:  February 25, 2000
Places:  Telgar Weyr's Living Cavern and Storage Rooms
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:  In an obscure way, I have to thank Raimi for this bit
of entertaining RP; she's the one who asked me to have Kassi con I'sai 
into strutting his stuff (so to speak) at the fashion show at Boll.  
Amazingly, Kassi actually managed the task, once again proving that she 
has a weird sense of priorities when it comes to what she'll spend marks 
on--not to mention a proverbial blank check.

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The Log:

You walk past the lintel and into the wide living cavern.

Pierron humphs thoughtfully as the Wingleader of Thunderbolt arrives.

Kassima does not walk, no, she *runs* through the Living Cavern, another
jar of mint sticks held triumphantly aloft--and as she reaches the
kitchens, she turns back just long enough to yell to the Healers pursuing
her, "I'm free again, you blood-suckers!" before disappearing into the
cooks' demense.

You walk off towards the kitchen.

You push your way past scurrying kitchen girls into the storeroom 
passageway.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima is starting to have a bit too much fun with this
mint-kleptomania, she thinks. ;)

You walk off towards the Storage Rooms.

Over in textile storage, I'sai isn't so much looking around as just sitting
on a dusty crate with arms around his knees.

Telgar Weyr> Leya giggles, "You know I was sooo tempted to mutter under my
breath that I wish I had a mint stick when given a glass of citron juice."

There's a sound of fast footfalls audible from outside the stores; then, a
none-too-gradual halt as Kassi skids to a landing next to the doorway.
"Going t'have t'be more careful next time," she mutters, pushing the door
fully open with the arm not curved possessively around the jar. Upon
realizing that the room is not unoccupied, she adds a belated, breathless,
"Ach--sorry, I'sai; didn't know the room was being used... am I intruding
on some deep thought session or the like?"

Telgar Weyr> Kassima beams at Leya. You are being assimilated into the Mint
Side. ;)

Pale eyes glance up; I'sai assures, once he sees it's her, "Yes, in fact.
I'm communing with the clothes. If I'd waited long enough, the right tunic
would have popped right out and fluttered over to me. Unfortunately, the
mood has been broken."

Kassima puts on her best disconsolate expression, though being winded and
flushed does mar it some; setting the jar on a nearby shelf--and covering
it, cannily, with a spare pair of pants lest the Healers find it again--she
ambles towards where the bronzerider and clothes are mingling their
thoughts in a sacred mind meld. "I'm *ever* so sorry, I'sai, truly. You
should post warning signs outside when you're doing something like that.
But why were you looking for the perfect tunic? Did you sign up for Boll,
too?"

"I would if I could write," I'sai says, who can indeed write, and usually
decipherably at that, "But as it is, I don't have enough to bribe a drudge
to stand out there and call warning, see. Plus, it'd just attract
attention. But what's any of that have to do with Boll? The tunic, it was
just looking for me, I was going to indulge it so it didn't get snagged by
someone else and have a perfectly horrible life forever after."

Kassima's brows inch upwards, honest surprise destroying that careful mask
of mock-sorrow. "You can't write? How d'you survive without going mad? I
suppose I can understand that; poor tunic, being claimed by someone 'twould
only later discover 'twasn't its One True Fit." She raises the back of one
hand to her forehead in melodramatic expressivity. "Boll? Oh, hadn't you
heard? They're t'be having a fashion show at their Gather a couple of
sevendays hence--I thought mayhaps you'd agreed t'model and were looking
for something t'be wearing. Though come t'think of it, that doesn't make
much logical sense as methinks they always provide the models' clothes."

"Oh, I have gone mad, that's why they put me in M'rgan's wing," I'sai
explains, hanging his head - so what if pale eyes peek unabashedly out even
so; "It just doesn't show much, because, well, there's a reason why D'ton's
in the wing too, when he's not watchriding. And that dragonhealing thing.
And, ah, I did hear. About the models. Ryialla mentioned it. And that they
provided clothes. She mentioned she'd talked to you, but didn't quite
answer as to whether she'd lost a bet that made her agree to participate..."

Kassima's eyes gleam appreciation of the jest, and she adds in a grin for
good measure, sliding down to a ginger cross-legged seat on the floor. "And
here 'twas thinking the madmen all went t'me. Still, 'twould explain much,
a legacy of Skyfirean lunacy. So D'ton is also mad, is he?" Lacing her
fingers together to drop into her lap, or what remains of her lap, she
assures, "Nay lost bets. I bet with Ryi, but *only* marks, thankee--she
just acceded t'my arts of persuasion." Glancing sidelong, she wonders,
"Don't suppose you'd do the same? Have the daring t'be getting up there and
showing 'em what Telgar's made of, so t'be speaking? I've heard they're
looking for more males."

I'sai peeks down at her dark head; "I really couldn't say, about D'ton," he
says, "Being that, you know, I'm not one to gossip." And he even says this
with a straight face. "No, no, I don't have the daring, not at all, not 
me."

"You should try it," Kassi suggests, keeping a serious mein somehow. "I've
a feeling you might enjoy it once you did. Oh, nay? A shame--this from a
man who dared be backtalking the Lord of Greenfields' daughter." A toss of
her head; mock-hauteur in the tone. "I'm *terribly* disappointed. Nay, in
seriousness--you should, y'know; the Weavercraft isn't apt t'be forgetting
favors. They might give discounts. And they won't put you in pink lace if'n
you tell them nay to, I can be swearing t'that."

I'sai does chuckle, but his arms still circle his knees, and he says,
"Maybe not -you-. I'm sure they could come up with worse. I don't know; it
all seems ...strange. Everyone -looking-," that last with a grimace
wrinkling his light voice if not his freckled features.

Ryialla walks in from outside the room.

Ryialla slips into the entrance to the store rooms, looking relieved. She
takes a moment to compose herself - not bothering to go poking around just
yet.

Kassima chuckles herself at that, and comments, "Me*thinks* I've just been
complimented, though t'be truthful I can't quite tell; thankee, just in
case." She would find a suggestion of fearsomeness complimentary. "Just be
telling 'em you won't wear a kilt or a tight shirt and you'll be fine. I
did it, and would I be wearing aught embarrassing in public, I ask you?
Without being paid forty-seven and a quarter marks t'do so? *'Tis* strange,
but 'tis short in lasting--and," all persuasiveness, now, "'tis good for
Weyr-Craft relations. D'you know what would happen if'n the Weavercraft
weren't happy with Telgar? Mauve argyle socks. *That's* what'd happen."
Noticing movement in the entrance, she turns her head that way and lifts a
hand to wiggle its fingers. "Ryi, you're just in time."

I'sai calls over in turn, though he doesn't uncurl from his crate,
"Ryialla. She's trying to make headway where you didn't." To the other
greenrider, he says, "Are you saying that if I say I don't want to wear
something, I don't have to, whatever it is? And as for Weyr-Craft
relations... I really quite sincerely doubt that my participation would
have anything to do with them, and certainly nothing positive. They don't
even much know about me. Unless a certain wingleader happened to promise me
to them... which that person shouldn't have been doing anyway."

Ryialla tilts her head, looking curious, then wanders over to join the two
of you. "Well," she says, affably enough, "It's hard to convince someone of
something when you keep waffling on it yourself. Kassi's already gotten
sucked in, see. So she'll have a more vested interest than I. What was that
about 47 and a quarter marks, Kassi? And heyla to you both. I'm trying to
avoid K'nan, so don't mind me."

Kassima, without looking, reaches back for a suitable piece of clothing to
throw at I'sai. It happens to be a pair of socks with, of all ill omens,
pink lace around the cuffs. "I *didn't*. I haven't been t'Weavercraft in
months, remember? Promised me to 'em, aye; you, nay. Though t'be fair, Sim
did hint he might let me buy what 'twill be modelling at cost if'n I could
get the Craft a bronzer volunteer or two. They're always so popular." She
wisely refrains from detailing just why. "'Tis a show of support, 'tis all.
And if'n you specify that there's something you won't wear, they won't make
you. I said nay pink lace or black leather for me, and they put me in a
perfectly respectable grey thing. Would it reassure you if'n Ryi and I
promised t'be wearing whatever 'tis they make you wear, as a guarantee of
our trust that 'twill nay be aught evil?" Oh, dear. "That's how much they
paid me t'wear pink lace for a day, Ryi. Why the K'nan-avoidance?"

"No K'nan here," I'sai agrees, batting the socks away from him, away, away,
befor even seeing what they -are-. "I don't want to have to specify, I
don't want to wear anything strange, and I -especially- don't want to wear
anything while standing up so people can stare at me. And she wouldn't fit,
besides, and then we'd all be embarrassed together and what good would
-that- be."

Ryialla looks most thoughtful. "47 for pink lace. That might not be /quite/
so bad, then...and don't you walk while doing that? Wouldn't be standing
all the time, then. And I'm certain as long as you're clear, they won't
make you wear anything too horrible or strange." She settles down on an
unopened crate with a grunt. "Oh. K'nan seems to think that I should go to
the Healers, just because I've lost a little weight. I went before..." 4 or
5 months ago. "And they said I was fine and the baby was fine. So I don't
need to go." She mms at I'sai. "Was talking to Jenni in the living cavern,
but got lost in his own thoughts after, so I was able to sneak by."

"If'n *I'm* going t'be standing so people can stare at me--while
*pregnant*, which is hardly the most aesthetic of states--for the good of
Weyr-Craft relations and monetary benefit, I don't see why a perfectly
healthy bronzer who *isn't* pregnant can't be doing the same." Kassi's tone
is a grouse, but at least she doesn't reach for more socks. "Ryi should've
spawned by then; she'll fit into whatever 'tis, though *I* might nay. How
about it, Ryi? Willing t'be making a promise for a good cause?" Scooting
back until she finds a suitable surface to lean against, she suggests,
"Next time he suggests it, dump turnip juice down his pants."

"Well, better than kissing her," I'sai supposes. "Although even that's
better than - oh, healers again? You look about ready to pop, and ... and
just because you walk off a cliff doesn't mean -I- have to too."

Ryialla mms in assent, and says, "Oh, c'mon, Is. Where's your sense of
adventure? If this withered old body is willing to squeeze herself into
something just to try it...why not? Just once. I'll even wear the same
outfit - and hey, Kassi. I bet they could just make a bigger one for you,
too. An I hope I do pop. I am so sharding sick of this pregnancy it's not
even funny."

I'sai teases, "You don't want to know any more about my sense of adventure
than you do already."

"Does too," Kassi retorts. "If'n I'm going off a cliff, I plan t'be taking
people *with* me. C'mon, I'sai. If'n nay for relations, how about moral
support? Or you can snicker at what they put other folk who didn't think
t'specify naught odd into with us. Please?" Somehow, without visibly moving
at all, Kassi manages to shift her expression to one of pleading baby
canine eyes. "Pretty please with mint on top? They're making something
accomodating, Ryi. I rather like the sketches, even if'n 'twill nay be
green. Mayhaps if'n you ate rivergrain pudding with garlic and vinegar? Or
kiwi iced cream with ketchup? Those things worked for me."

I'sai has to deal with Taralyth, he of the reproachful stare -and- the link
into his gut, ...but that doesn't completely inoculate him from having to
lift his chin a little defensively at her expression. "I don't see why I
can't approve it first; and I can snicker from the audience, too. I can
snicker even more, in fact."

Kassima has small children. She's had this expression turned on her so many
times that she's learned to copy it to perfection and, with her evil
greenrider wiles, improve on it. It's amazing how large and soulful one can
make their eyes when they really try. "You won't even do it for us?" she
mourns. "You'll leave us to our lonely devices up there on that stage, t'be
laughed at alone?" Was that a sniffle? Is her chin quavering just a trifle?
"Oh, Is, how *could* you?"

I'sai folds his arms tighter, because he can. "You'll have plenty of
company," he mutters. "Get the rest of your wing to do it, if you have to."

Ryialla says "Well, I'd rather think you'd have to approve it - they'd have
to sketch it and fit it to you and all." Those blue eyes of hers soften,
becoming a match for Kassi's baby canine eyes. The expression softens the
tight lines of her face, the thinness no longer so apparent. "Pretty
please, I'sai? Just once. Try it, and if you hate it, never again. I
promise. Besides, if you will, we can all badger Myk into doing it too.
Think of the fun you'll have being able to watch him up there as well. And
it could probably be arranged so you go /first/, and get it overwith.
Right, Kassi?"

I'sai eyes Ryialla, who just doesn't play fair. "...Neither of - Nobody
likes to be badgered," he says. And, the first step to perdition, "It's not
good to go first, that way they -are- staring, better to be lost in the
shuffle."

"M'Wing is full of people with stone for hearts. They wouldn't do it,"
Kassi mumbles, downcasting her lashes and hunching in on herself to look as
pitiful as she can. "That's *true*, Ryi. We likely could--" Peer pressure!
"--and Master Raimi is ever so nice and accomodating. Oh, say you'll do it,
Is. You'll have our gratitude forever and ever and ever." Or until the next
time he does something wicked to them, or they want to do something wicked
to him, whichever comes first.

"You could order them to," I'sai points out as they return to a semblance
of logic, no doubt trusting in M'rgan's own forbearance. "And besides, I
have stone for a heart, too. Really, I do. No mushiness here. No,
definitely not."

Ryialla continues not to play fair, mouth developing the tiniest of pouts.
"You've been ever so sweet and wonderful to me, Is. And now you'd cast me
to the canines, leave me the only member of Skyfire up there to suffer? If
you'd rather be lost in the shuffle, I'm sure it could be arranged. In
fact, if you wished to talk to Master Raimi about being anonymous, I /bet/
they'd craft a mask for you. Then no one would know who you are. You'd be
mysterious - the handsome, modeling bronzerider who no-one knew.."

Kassima lets the pitiful act slip to give I'sai one of those 'And how big
is that bridge you have to sell me?' looks. "Mmm-hmm. Sorry; nay going t'be
buying that one. But speaking of buying--" A gusty sigh, a flickered glance
down to her belt pouch. "If'n all else fails, 'tis time for bribery. What
will it take t'be getting you t'do it? I'm trusting you want marks, since
if'n you're going t'be asking me t'do a jig on a table while singing the
song about the little teapot or some such other horror in exchange, you're
going t'be having a longer wait." She brightens at Ryi's suggestion,
chiming in, "And they'd all be asking, 'Who *was* that masked man?'"

I'sai just narrows his eyes at Ryialla with a, "I'll rub your feet when
you're done walking the plank. And that's it." Though, that mask... and his
mouth might twitch at Kassima's change in expression, but he goes on with,
"Like it'd be so anonymous when they call out our names. Or look at
Taralyth. ...Mask. Bribe..." the fish is wiggling near the hook,
seacrafters. Near the hook.

I'sai adds, "Really, Ryi, you should get M'rgan to do it. That'd take his
mind off Kena being so busy."

Ryialla inclines her head just a little. "But there's no reason for
Taralyth to be /right/ there, correct? He could drop you off where you
wouldn't b seen, and there's always aliases, for the names. Plus I'll rub
/your/ feet, when you're done showing off." Her smile curves impish. "Now.
C'mon, Is. You've got to admit, that if you did it like that, you'd be
pulling one over on a lot of people. Right? That's got to have some merit
to it.."

Kassima offers, hopefully, "Three marks? And a promise t'be eating a bug
if'n they make you wear a kilt? You can choose the bug." It's much more
motivational if he chooses the bug. "Taralyth could be staying in the
courtyard or some such thing, though 'twould be a shame t'deprive him of
the chance t'be seeing. They wouldn't have t'be calling your name. They
could call you 'The Anonymous Masked Bronzer Person.' Or 'Mr. Flibble,'
that'd do. C'mon. Four marks?"

I'sai says, with his nose in the air just high enough that he can look down
it, and a little more, "Who cares about pulling one over people." Feel free
to laugh now. "Besides, -he's- not going to hide. And -certainly- not 'Mr.
Flibble.' And, all right, if I -did-, a footrub would help, but, but...
thing is, four marks, that's not even enough to buy an outfit with, really.
Not a good one anyway. Maylia's -shirt- was..." he catches himself too
late, face flaming.

Too late indeed. Kassima's curiousity has been triggered. "Maylia's shirt?"
she wants to know. "Why'd you--and you paid over four marks for a *shirt*?
What are you, nuts? Better idea yet: rather than paying you, 'twill be
going with you next trip you make to the Weavercraft t'be doing your
bargaining for you. You plainly need lessons." Yep, that's Kassi. Willing
to pay four marks for a bronzerider to model, but not for a shirt.
"Speaking of rubs, you should give Ryi a backrub sometime, you know.
Backrubs win a lot of points with pregnant women."

Ryialla blinks. "Over /4/ marks for a shirt? Faranth, I'sai, was it made
out of spinner-silk or something, with permanently embedded scent??"

I'sai says through his teeth, "It wasn't exactly four marks." But if it
wasn't, it was pretty close. "And, uh, never mind about scent. And it was a
-good- shirt. A -very- good shirt. And she -liked- it. So there." Or at
least said she did. And never mind the backrubs: "It should be four marks
and -teaching- me about bargaining, not that you've taught me about
knife-throwing yet, and ... hmm, a personal favor might be good too. For
the future. No doubt I'll need it."

"I'sai, *why* did you buy m'mentee a four-mark scented shirt?" Kassi just
has to know now. "'Twasn't her Turnday recently, I'm sure of it; I'd have
recalled--oh, shells. Tell me she's nay having an affair with you. Nay
*again*. After Kiat, you'd think she'd learn her *lesson* about such
things, but *nay*... Faranth's femur on a fork!" Covering her eyes briefly
with her hands, she mourns, "Where did I go wrong? One mentee paired off
with *two* men, two of 'em wound up dancing on bars, one without *pants*,
and I'm sure 'tis just a matter of time a'fore Daffela does something
weird...." The beginning of bargaining draws her out of her melancholy,
however. "Three marks, teaching, a personal favor, but you have t'be
wearing whatever they give you so long as it doesn't void your
specifications. And the personal favor can't involve me wearing pink lace
in public."

Ryialla ohhhhhhhs - something Kassi's said trigging a memory or an
assumption of some sort. "As long as she liked it, then, well. Presents are
always good, even when there's no reason to give them." She quiets, then,
listening to the barganing. That's between the two of them, after all, so
she can just sit back and enjoy.

Kiat?! I'sai's eyes go wide. "I -said-," he says, "Never mind about scent.
And we're -not- having an affair. It's nothing -like- that." He nods firmly
at Ryialla, then says, "Give me a few moments to think... and what happened
with, with K'tyn anyway? ...And that's not the favor; the favor isn't the
favor till I say it is."

Kassima's brow furrows. Yes, she's thoroughly confused. "So why the
expensive random gifts if'n you're nay having an affair? Are you *hoping*
t'have an affair? I have t'be saying, Is, 'twould nay recommend it. Tas
wouldn't be pleased, and he can wreak a lot of havoc now that he's
Weyrsecond. Never mind him and Madelynda--or him and May and *Aurian*,
shards; but at least that was with her participation, as 'twere...."
Trailing off as she realizes she's strayed somewhat from the point, she
explains, for Ryi too, "May and Kiat were sleeping together for a time.
Without Kin or Tas's knowledge. I'm afraid I yelled at 'em for it--likely
shouldn't have; none of m'business, but after the thing with K'nan and
Jenren, well... anyway. 'Twas a time ago, and methinks they're nay doing it
anymore. Tas and Kin were both displeased, as memory serves."

Ryialla ahs. "I wasn't aware of that - well, May and Kiat's part. I
remember that thing with K'nan and Jenren and...oh, that /was/ a mess." She
wrinkles her nose, and grimaces. But..." She looks over at Is, here, then
back to Kassi. "Sometimes gifts are just gifts, with nothing behind them
other than friendship. Which reminds me, I've a present for /you/." And
there's exactly /no/ chance on Pern that it's anything other than a gift
for a friend, there.

"Can't say as I blame them," I'sai mutters edgily. "At least he and Sa - "
he stops, says instead, "...And it wasn't random, anyway. It was... was not
quite a Turn and a half ago. Count on your fingers if you have to. And no,
-I'm- not the one provoking Weyrseconds... So. Teaching. Favor. I wear
whatever doesn't void my specs. No pink lace in public - and no pink _or_
lace, for three and a half marks." And then, then he blinks at Ryialla.

"Saskia?" Kassi finishes, without pause or surprise. The counting, though
not done on fingers, does take a moment. Then, finally, carefully, "Is...
thankee for nay making a practice of needing t'be replacing shirts. That
would've been very hard t'be explaining t'Jirel when I gave her the clothes
back. Who's provoking Weyrseconds? I'm nay provoking Weyrseconds." Just
spawning with them, that's all. Giving this matter due thought, she
decides, "Three and a quarter and the favor falls within reasonable
bounds--naught impossible, naught that harms anyone, and naught that
involves, say, you placing bets on whether 'twould ever bed L'cher and then
calling that as the favor t'be making tons of marks--and you've a deal."
She, too, blinks at Ryi. "A present? Should I be afraid?"

I'sai confirms nothing about the name; just says meanwhile, with a ghost of
a smile, "You're quite welcome. ...But no, I don't care for that last
condition; I'll be satisfied with your three and the rest."

Ryialla shakes her head. "Nope. It's not anything big, anyway. And...well.
It's not here, just yet. You'll have to wait and see what it is when it
arrives." She smiles - a little playful, impish smile. "You'll like it.
You'll see."

Kassima flicks a smile back, saying only, "Welcome. Don't care for the
last?" Puzzled, in the wake of the latter. "So 'twill nay be agreeing nay
t'be asking aught unreasonable? That worries me. I knew 'twere evil,
but...." A squint towards Ryi, now. "When you smile that smile, I feel fear
in the depths of m'black greenrider heart. Then again, it *could* mean the
gift is a gift that will do evil t'someone *else*...."

"Good question; will I like her liking it?" I'sai asks Ryialla, before
adding, "Well, there's unreasonable and there's -unreasonable-. I think
it's safe to say that what might come to mind would not be impossible,
would not involve L'cher, and would not deliberately cause much harm...
since everything could cause harm, if you look at it the right way. Or the
wrong. Feel better?"

"I can be agreeing to that," Kassima decides. "I'm just nay going t'be
castrating anyone for you on a favor, say. I do m'best t'be honoring any
bargain I'm making, but there *are* limits. So. Three and a quarter, favor,
lessons, nay pink or lace or combination thereof and you have t'be wearing
whatever?" She takes a moment, at this point, to unfold her legs, stand,
and fetch that mint stick jar. It's been too long since her last fix.

Ryialla lifts her hands, expression engimatic. "You may or may not like it.
Probably may. I've gotten you something similar." The real reason for the
lack of marks is slowly becoming apparent. She's been buying
presents.Because you've both been so good to me during this whole thing."
Thing likely having to do with the large protruding belly she's got. "An'
you're both my friends, and I've never really got to buy presents for my
friends for no good reason before."

I'sai agrees, with another small smile, "No castrating. ...And whatever
-doesn't fit the specifications-... wait, for both of us?" His gaze
searches Ryialla's expression, enigmatic or no, or perhaps the more so
because it is. "...Oh. Uh, and thanks? I mean, for what you said."

Awwwww. Watch Kassi's expression soften. If the hormones choose to kick in,
she may wind up sniffling for real yet. "Ryi, that's terribly sweet. And
entirely too kind. You didn't have to, I hope y'know it--'twasn't trying
t'be nice in hopes of recompense, and I'm sure Is wasn't either. 'Tis just
what friends are for." A pause, and a ruefully amused grimace. "Cliche as
that sounds. All right, then--" She holds out the hand not busy picking out
the best mint stick to seal the deal. "D'you want payment now, or
afterwards? And do either of you want a mint stick? Might be the last batch
I can be stealing for awhile. The Healers are on t'me."

"Uh, yeah, not in recom-whatever," I'sai agrees, looking away from Ryialla
only long enough to cross palms with Kassi, sans spit. "If you have it on
you, that's fine, otherwise ... next time we see each other? I, ah, could
use it. The marks. Right around now."

Ryialla shakes her head. "It's not. I'd never do that. You just reminded me
of it, Kassi. That's all. And it's two separate things, one for each of
you. In a similar theme. And I'd love a mint stick, thanks."

"Hm," says I'sai, speculatively. "...Mint, sure, please."

Sayuri walks in from outside the room.

Kassima, in answer to the question of whether she has the marks on her,
proceeds to unhook her belt pouch and spill its contents onto the floor.
Quarter-marks, half-marks, full marks, two markers, one or two ten markers,
all come tumbling out into a pile. "Methinks I can scrape 'em up," she
comments as she plucks a two, a one, and a quarter from near the top and
passes them over. "I'm looking forward t'seeing it then, Ryi, nay matter
how evil it may be." After scooping the marks back into their proper place,
she withdraws two mint sticks from the jar and proffers one to each.

I'sai disappears the marks into his pocket and takes the offered mint
stick, afterward saying polite thanks; he leans across his knees, then, to
get a look at the newcomer, "Hello!"

Sayuri says "hello"

Ryialla takes the mint stick and pops it into her mouth, watching in
bemusement as Kassi the Mark Mistress shows off her wares. The fall of
footsteps causes her to glance over and smile pleasantly enough to the
newcomer "Heyla." It's muffled, due to the mint stick in her mouth.

I'sai looks at the girl a long moment, and then guesses, "You're not
someone I have to pretend I know even though I don't recognize you, are 
you?"

Kassima fastens the pouch back onto her belt with a final, fond slap for
it--or rather, its contents--and leans back against her wall-o'-support to
suck on her mint stick in bliss for a moment or two. "Heyfwa," she offers
to the newcomer, just as muffled as Ryi; and to that greenrider, she offers
a wink in response to the bemusement.

Sayuri says "No, I just arrived here."

Ryialla plucks the mint stick out of her mouth then, and says, "Welcome to
Telgar. Or, more specifically, Telgar Weyr's storerooms." She gestures at
the cavern around her, then asks, "Is there aught we can help you with?"
The stick is popped back in, then, even as Ryi shifts a little on her 
crate.

Sayuri says "Any food around here? Preferrably the edible kind?"

I'sai assures, "You're lucky enough to have arrived -after- the 'time of
fish' has passed. It was awful. But it's a lot better now."

Sayuri says "Great! Any sweets?"

"Well," says Kassi, switching her mint-stick over to her cheek so as to be
able to talk around it better, "be welcomed to the Icy Wastes, then, and
duties t'you and your homeplace." Not on a crate, she nonetheless follows
the shifting trend, stretching out her legs and tapping boot-toes together
in an idle fashion. "Nay in this room, unless you're considering cloth t'be
food, but there's plenty in the Caverns or in the cold Stores--ach, I'sai,
don't *remind* me. I don't eat fish but once in a canine's age, so I had
t'be hoarding meatrolls from elsewhere and eating *those*. The Holds are
nay doubt still wondering how so many disappeared from their serving 
tables."

I'sai's pointed features wrinkle in disappointment, "You want sweets? Not a
good cheese, maybe on bread, a slice of sausage to go with... -Good-
cheese, I tell you. We had the flaming dessert the other night, I'm afraid,
so you're too late for that."

Sayuri says "Sweets!"

I'sai snaps his fingers, "I was afraid of that."

Sayuri says "There aren't any sweets around here, are they? No pies?
Cookies? Anything?"

Sayuri says "By the way, is Selaye around? I must speak with her."

I'sai suggests, practicing his own wide-eyed look, "Ryi, could you?
...You're so -good- with this sort of thing."

Kassima considers this with due gravity, while sucking on her mint stick.
It seems to be escaping her that mint sticks might be considered sweets.
"Nay in this room, nay... there're like as nay still bubblies in the Cavern
somewhere... I'*sai*. Don't mention sausage. You're making me hungry again.
Headwoman Selaye? She's like as nay in her rooms at this hour, 'twould
warrant."

Sayuri says "I see you have a very nice mint stick. _Very_ nice."

"Aye," Kassi answers. "'Tis, 'tisn't it? And 'tis all mine."

I'sai supposes, "I have one that hasn't been licked. Unlike hers. I'll give
it to you if you'll eat some cheese afterward; much tastier."

Ryialla gives I'sai a slightly narrowed eyed look of her own. She's not
buying that. But out comes the mint stick again, to tell Sayuri, "They're
Kassi's. You'll have to ask her if she'll be kind enough to give you one."
Speaking of sweets, her own smile, as it's turned on the other greenrider,
is wonderfully sweet. Too sweet. Passing the wherrybuck here.

Sayuri says "Well, if you're going to be like that, I suppose I'll just go
one to bed. Cheese! Hmph!"

Kassima lazily unbends one arm to reach for another pair of socks to lob
I'sai-wards. "Don't be talking nonsense, man. Cheese better'n mint sticks!
Are you *mad*?" Ryialla's sweet smile is mirrored to a frightening--and
minty--degree. Oh, no, you don't.

Sayuri says "If Selaye happens by, do tell her I'll speak to her tomorrow,
please? I'm afraid I must get my beauty sleep."

I'sai ducks the socks, but too late, as they graze his hair; here's hoping
they were washed before returned to the storerooms. "Hey," he then
protests, "I thought it was a nice offer... ah, all right. If that happens.
Who do we say you are?"

Sayuri says "Sayuri, the new girl who just moved in. Well, good night!"

The lacy pink socks do indeed seem to be clean, where they now lie
forlornly on the floor. Kassi wiggles her fingers after the departing girl.
"Beauty sleep?" she then repeats, sounding a bit bemused. "I didn't think
sleep really had any impact on beauty. Strange. She seems all right, 
though."

I'sai slides off his crate with a, "Now, you know that someone else might
make an unkind comment about that, but -I- won't."

Kassima only chuckles, grinning wryly at the bronzerider around her mint
stick. "Too kind, though I'd nay mind if'n you had. Until I get to the
sniffly hormone stage, people can take as many pot-shots at me as ever;
only then will I start bursting into tears or the like, promise. I don't
think I'm *too* bad about that, anyway--Ryi, how about you, did you have a
sniffly stage this time?"

Ryialla nods. "She does seem alright. Good sort, if a little sweet-loving.
Not necessarily a bad thing. I used to be that way, too. Remember the
sweetner I used to drop in my klah, Kassi?" She snorts, then. "Did I have a
sniffly stage? Oh, did I ever. Right around the time with that whole thing
with Kao, too. Wonderful timing, for sure."

"She did," I'sai avers after an equally wry nod Kassima's way - then stops;
"'That whole thing' - is it over?"

"Oh, aye--nay that I blamed you; when I drink the stuff and 'tis nay
M'kla's, I still load it with sweetner," Kassi assures, then grimaces.
"Shells. Should've recalled that m'self, but you might say I could nay tell
'twas hormone-inspired and be telling the truth--aye, how *are* things
between you two now?"

"The sniffly part? Pretty much - it's about the only thing that's acted
like normal, this time around." Ryi sucks on the mint stick contemplatively
for a moment. "Well. It's currently back to what it was somewhat before I
flipped out. Whinde did move out, though. And seems to be enamoured of some
new person. Not sure who. Akiko was talking about kissing."

I'sai twitches his way towards the exit, though not so far that he doesn't
wonder, "Um, so does that mean it's just you two? Or not even you two?"

Kassima does sound relieved as she says, "Glad t'be hearing it. Better t'be
in homicidal mode during the spawning than sniffly mode. Anger's more
useful than despair, nay?" Trust her to think so. "I'd heard about the
move-out, though nay whom she's been dallying with. I do seem t'recall her
flirting with K'nan at one point."

Ryialla chuckles. "Who /hasn't/ flirted with K'nan, at this point, really?
And, aye. Anger is much more useful." A shake of her hand for I'sai. "It's
open. I don't ask, he doesn't volunteer. Better that than nothing at all."

I'sai raises a hand, "-I- haven't - oh. Oh." He looks at her a long moment,
some obscure expression haunting his pale eyes; "...If you say so. Good
night," and the very last includes them both.

Ryialla looks rather confused at the expression, and it's reflected in her
words as she says, "Erm. G'night, then, Is."

Kassima echoes the gesture, and words: "I haven't, either." Peering at the
other greenrider, she nods, perhaps in sympathy and perhaps in
understanding; perhaps in both. "Mayhaps," she offers, tentative, "he'll
volunteer after you've spawned? Oh--g'night, I'sai. Sleep well, dream
sweet, and regards t'Taralyth."

"To Lysseth... Pliarth," I'sai agrees without further illumination, and
escapes the rest of the way.

"Something," Kassi decides, watching him go, "is up with that bronzerider."

Ryialla blinks as Is leaves, then nods. "It is. I can never figure him out.
Gives me headaches if I try." She turns towards Kassi. "But, to answer your
other question, if he does volunteer, he does. If he doesn't, he doesn't. I
really don't expect much from this sort of thing anymore."

Kassima agrees with some wryness, "He's an enigma--an interesting one,
though. For someone so young, he has so many secrets." Probably
unexpectedly, she adds, "'Tis a shame Taralyth wasn't on Benden's
Sands--he'd have done well Impressing as a Bendenite. He's evil enough."
High praise from her indeed. "I'truth. I know the way of it. I could never
offer; only Ev ever asked, if'n you're nay counting J'var or L'cher or all
those men who'd bed aught with legs and a pulse. I hope he does, though,
Ryi. You deserve some time t'nay be alone."

Kassima pauses a moment before amending, "Well... Ev and one other, though
the latter was less a case of asking and more of offering, but 'tis nay
quite the same thing. Anyway."

Ryialla stretches a little. "Last vestiages of being hold-bred, I would
think. The woman doesn't ask. Tis the man's place, if he wants it. But...I
don't know, Kassi. I don't think K'ryo is the type to be asking, really. It
took me enough to convince him that I was interested." She slips off the
crate and starts moving around. "Umf. Stiff. Who was the other, if I can be
asking?"

K'ryo walks in from outside the room.

K'ryo wanders in, peering around for ... something. His eyes come to rest
on the two greenriders there. He nods a greeting, almost smiling,
"Ryialla... Kassima..."

Kassima tips her diminished mint stick in silent salute to this ideal.
"Precisely that. Precisely. And you may be right." She considers a moment
before starting to say, "You can be asking, certes--" But she doesn't
finish; the sound of steps interrupts, and she makes no attempt to continue
the thought chain. "G'deve, K'ryo," she says instead, gathering her mint
sticks, getting to her feet, and offering the bluerider a smile in
something like tht order. "And g'deve indeed, I should say. 'Tis late, and
I need t'be sleeping--if'n 'twill both excuse?"

K'ryo swishes his mouth to one side. "I can go... if I was interrupting
something...?" looking somewhat apologetic.

Ryialla is walking back and forth, pacing just a bit and rubbing at the
small of her back. She glances up at Kassi's greeting, and a happy smile
appears on her face. "Heyla, K'ryo. You weren't interrupting." She glances
over at Kassi, then back, her expression slightly thoughtful. But all she
says is, "I didn't realize I had kept you up, Kassi. Sorry about that.
Dream well." There's a pause, and she adds, "I don't think I could,
though." It doesn't seem to actually be related to her 'Dream Well'
statement, for some odd reason.

Kassima shakes her head emphatically, braid swaying. "Nay, 'tis nay that,
fear nay. I'd been meaning t'be making m'exit in moments anyhow, a'fore I
fell asleep on the Storeroom floor and got a crick in neck and back for
m'trouble." At Ryi's words, she shakes her head with a quiet laugh. "Meant
you could be asking about the other, though if'n you can nerve yourself up
to--anyway, nay worries; I kept me up, you didn't. And now, g'night t'you
both." And she's off.

You walk out of the Storage Rooms.