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Out of the Ashes


Date:  January 8, 1999
Places:  Telgar Weyr's Outer Infirmary and Inner Infirmary
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:  It's the day after the fire, and Kassima takes an
opportunity to visit those who were injured in the disaster above and 
beyond the minor singing she took:  T'saren, badly burned, and Alyssa, 
who passed out from smoke inhalation.  They talk about the aftermath
of the burning, naturally enough; but a bit later, the conversation
wanders down different paths, and Kassi attempts to comfort one of
her oldest friends.

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The Log:

Lysseth> Solarith and Adonith sense that Lysseth speaks with a light
mindtouch, devoid of all but the faintest color so as not to be
over-intrusive. Politely, she asks, << My rider wonders whether yours would
like--or mind, for that matter--a visitor? >>

Dragon> Lysseth and Adonith sense that Solarith's mindvoice is tinged with
rapturous blue. << My rider says he would not mind a visitor. >>

You place one hand on Lysseth's neck and she warbles down at you fondly.
You grin and scratch her eyeridges once before climbing up onto her lower
neckridges, using the riding straps and Lysseth's thoughtfully offered
foreleg.

<*> Lysseth springs from the ground, the air from her wings churning up
dust as she takes to the skies.

You spring from Lysseth's ledge with one downsweep of your wings, soaring
into the sky above the Northern Bowl.

You fly downwards towards the ground.

You backwing for a landing on sands of the bowl.

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.

You go beneath the rocky overhang that protects the Infirmary entrance.

One could almost not recognize Kassi as she creeps quietly into the room,
two huge flower bouquets in her arms and a large basket of fruit perched
atop her head. "Mistake me for Miranda of Boll and her Dancing Veils and
die," she hisses to the nearest Healer.

You push the tapestry aside and walk into the inner infirmary.

There's a considerable amount of rustling, despite Kassi's best attempts,
as the greenrider tries to manuever two enormous bouquets and a fruit
basket--perched on her head for easy, Carman Miranda-style carriage--past
the curtain. "Anyone awake in here?" she whispers upon getting untangled
and turning about.

T'saren looks over at Kassi from where he lays, staring at the ceiling.
"I'm awake," he mutters to her, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb
Alyssa. "Not that I really want to be," he adds.

Alyssa is indeed slumbering, her blanket drawn up to her chin, her body
motionless as she lies on her left side, breathing in a raspy fashion.

Kassima finds a convenient surface to lay the flowers long enough to get
the fruit off of her head. It really is a most... well, over-done,
frankly... fruit basket, with bananas and kiwis and mangos and Faranth only
knows what towering everywhere. "Well, good. That thing was giving me a
headache," she replies, similarly quietly. Folding her gauze-wrapped hands
under her arms, she walks to the side of the cot, giving first Alyssa and
then T'saren a once-over. "You look," she observes, "like death warmed
over. But the Healers insisted you'll all be perfectly fine?"

Kassima does continue to speak quiet-like so as not to disturb Lys, of course.

T'saren snorts at the greenrider's description of himself and Alyssa. "Aye,
they said we'd be fine in a few months. If we don't catch pneumonia or
something, and we don't die of boredom first." He realizes how he sounds
and sighs. "I miss flying already."

Kassima suggests dryly, "Methinks I can sympathize, bronzer. Nay easy, is
it?" She rummages about in her satchel, coming up with--yes, two vases, and
busies herself then with getting the wild tropical bouquets into them.
"Could've been worse. From what I hear, you must've rolled around in the
fire or something, getting burned up that badly. Don't you bronzers have
any sense of self-preservation at all?" A grin flickers at the tease, but
she sobers. "If'n there's aught you need help with...."

Telgar Weyr> Alyssa btw thanks Leigh and Mellany for bathing her dwagon.

Telgar Weyr> Mellany says, "Our pleasure (and duty). ;)"

Telgar Weyr> Leigh says, "Thank you, too, and thanks to Adonith. He's so
handsome, it's a pleasure to get my hands on him. ;)"

Telgar Weyr> Alyssa grins.

Telgar Weyr> Alyssa says, "He thinks he is, Leigh. :)"

Telgar Weyr> Leigh says, "He is. No lie. I enjoy reading his desc."

Telgar Weyr> Anra avoids being a Candidate 'cause then she doesn't have to
bathe dragons. :)

Telgar Weyr> Alyssa says, "Awww...thanks. :)"

Telgar Weyr> Leigh swoons at Adonith. He makes her all fluttery. ;)

Telgar Weyr> Alyssa grins. All females do. ;)

Telgar Weyr> Leigh says, "Of course, we do. We can't help ourselves."

T'saren nods slowly, wrinkling his nose in a grimace. "I didn't roll in it,
though if I had, it probably wouldn't be that much worse. Thank Faranth
everything but my hands escaped with only minor burns." He sighs suddenly,
giving a shrug. "I'm alright as long as I have someone around to wait on me."

In a cot not far from T'saren, Alyssa rolls onto her back so she is lying
flat and immediately coughs; a few seconds of this rouses her from her
slumber and inspires her to push upward on one elbow.

Telgar Weyr> Anra says, "Adonith's the swoonable one. Alyssa isn't anything
special -- was that how I was supposed to say it, 'Lyssa?"

Telgar Weyr> Anra ducks. :)

Telgar Weyr> Alyssa says, "That was very good, Anra."

Telgar Weyr> Anra smiles. She's a harper. She's good at saying what she's
told to say. :)

Kassima hooks her foot around the leg of a chair, dragging it over to sit
on. "And something t'be keeping you from boredom?" she guesses, shrewd.
"Want me t'regale you with my entire collection of off-color ballads
sometime after you get out of here? You somehow strike me as the sort to be
entertained by such. Mayhaps Maylia will join in; they're usually even
worse, sung in rounds." Noticing stirring out of the corner of her eye, she
drops her voice even quieter to whisper the rest, though a passing Healer
glares at her anyway. "I hear Ro's taking care of your dragons. She'll do a
fair job of it, I daresay."

T'saren glances over at Alyssa, giving the bluerider a small smile before
looking back at Kassi. "I hope she will, being a dragonhealer and all.
Sol's down at the hot spring at the moment, sucking up attention while the
candidates bathe him."

Blearily the bluerider regards the room around her as she hacks and wheezes
her way into a sitting position.

Kassima is sitting near T'saren's cot, and also near a counter which has
become the hapless resting place of wildly colored tropical flowers
galore--to say nothing of the Monsterous Fruit Basket of Doom, presiding
over the display like some ancient citrus deity. "He's one of those who
loves attention, isn't he?" Kassi remarks to Tas, with a half-grin. "Most
bronzes of Tzornth's line do seem t'be." Looking over towards the coughing,
she winces, and lifts a wrapped hand in a feeble wave. "Sorry if'n we
disturbed you, Lys...."

Alyssa shakes her head as she waves back, unable presently to speak, but
she's trying a smile for the greenrider and bronzerider alike as if to
reassure them.

T'saren nods again in answer to Kassi's query. "He wants so much attention
usually, I'd swear he was a green. No offense to your Lysseth, of course."
He gives Alyssa another smile. "G'morning, or afternoon, or whatever it is
out there," he says with a toss of his head towards the outside.

"Lyss actually doesn't care for Candidates hovering over her, believe it or
nay. She half-drowns the ones who try t'be washing her. I don't know what
t'do with that beast, I swear." Kassima shakes her head in amused
exasperation. "Should've seen the fuss she made when Kvasith started a
spit-fight... afternoon, 'tis. D'you need aught, Lys? Water? Juice? A club
with which t'be playing 'Whack the Annoying Healer'?"

Alyssa laughs through her coughs and indicaets the water pitcher not far
away, and, in a harsh whisper, tells Kassima, "Thank you." Oddly,
considering everything, she seems more relaxed, if weary, and gives both
wingleaders small but warm smiles.

T'saren smiles and shakes his head. "Sol loves to spit at people who don't
expect it. I don't know where we got it from, but Kerlyn thinks it was from
her Sorath." He chuckles dryly at the 'club' mention, commenting, "Don't
tempt us, Kassi."

Kassima relaxes somewhat herself, at the lack of saluting and ma'aming and
whatnot, tentatively returning the smile. "Quite welcome," she replies.
"Quite. Just let me know if'n I can be useful t'you. I promise nay t'hover
over you with rose petal sachets, though. You're well?" A wink is given
Tas, then. "Lyss absolutely *soaked* Syrali and Thaelon. In retrospect,
Thaelon deserved it, but... all right, all right. If'n you won't club 'em,
that means all the more that I can club m'self, once I find a suitable
blunt object."

T'saren chuckles again, glancing down at his bandage-swathed hands. "Even
if I had a club handy, you'd have to use it for me. It'll be nice when the
healers say I can feed myself again. Or use the latrines by myself." The
absolute disgust in the Wingleader's voice reveals he's not going to be the
best patient a healer could wish for.

Kassima waggles her own gauze-wrapped fingers at T'saren. "Nay today,
m'friend, though mayhaps tomorrow. I've been told I can't wield m'knives
for a time, so I suspect clubs would also be forbidden. More's the pity.
Mayhaps 'twill just have t'have m'fire-lizards drop spiderclaws on their
heads or the like. You can't use the latrines?" Disgust is mirrored, though
Kassi's is a sympathetic disgust. "Ugh. I'm terribly sorry. How's May
taking it all?"

T'saren shrugs one shoulder, wincing slightly as the action rubs a burn the
wrong way. "Maylia isn't any more thrilled than I am, but since she was a
healer, I think she expected it."

"That'd follow, wouldn't it?" Kassi leans back in her chair, chewing her
lip in thought. "In case nay anyone's thought t'tell either of you, by the
by, the outlook's a lot less grim than it could've been if'n more than one
corner had gone up--though some of the Records that survived are a *mess*.
I should hope 'Lex and Thaelon got the rest of 'em separated ere they ran
too much--the wet ones, I mean. Some maps and the like were definitely
lost, but less than could've been. You lot did good."

T'saren nods, taking a bit of pleasure in the information that his burns
weren't for naught. "Glad to hear it. Sounds like we'll have plenty for the
candidates and weyrlings to do, at any rate."

"Some of the records were saved?" Alyssa rasps as she takes a drink of water.

Kassima bobs her head to Alyssa. "Oh, definitely. Only one corner wound up
torched; a lot more would've been if'n Adonith hadn't sounded the alarm. A
few were too charred, or too sodden, t'be of any use now--but most will be
able t'be recopied. Might have t'play 'fill in the blank' with a few that
got their edges singed off, but on the whole... aye, that's what 'twere
speaking of last night, Tas, when 'twere separating the soaked ones.
Candidates and inactive riders whose injuries don't prevent 'em from being
unable t'copy, I should say."

Alyssa nods and suggests thinly in her sharpish whisper, "I can; I've a
good hand, I'm told..."

Telgar Weyr> Alyssa does the idle thing agian.

T'saren nods also, looking down at his hands. "Sorry I won't be able to
help with that. I can still try to puzzle through the smears and soot,
though, if someone would bring a stack in here and set it on the table
there." He gives a nod towards the small table beside his cot. "It'd give
me something to do anyway, instead of just laying around like that bronze
lump of mine."

"If'n you can be spared, I don't doubt 'twould be appreciated, Lys," Kassi
says earnestly. "But I'm nay Kiat t'be saying what he'll want t'be doing
with his inactives. I'll be working on it m'self once the Healers give me
clearance. Nay that I should *need* clearance, shardit, but 'Lex threatened
t'throw fits... oh, certes, Tas. M'pleasure. Grounded Wingleaders have t'be
sticking together, y'know, lest we all go mad and start climbing up on
tables t'sing 'We Represent the Lunatic Guild'."

T'saren raises a brow at Kassi's words, but gives her an agreeing nod. A
healer bustles in suddenly, bearing a mug of tea for the Dawnslight
Wingleader to drink from. Tas glowers at the man, but obligingly drinks
down the foul stuff. "Must be time for me to rest," the bronzerider
mutters. "Don't worry about waking me up. They said I slept like the dead
last night." And with that, he leans back against the pillows and is soon
snoring.

Telgar Weyr> T'saren has to scoot for a bit. Thanks for the RP, Kassi and
Lys. :) See you all! *snugs*

Telgar Weyr> Kassima zhaisnugs Mr. T. :)

Kassima starts to comment, but the buzzsaw snore cuts her off. "Nay quite
like the dead," she opines, peering at the sleeping man. "The dead don't
make half as much noise as *that*."

Telgar Weyr> Neliea snugs Tas. :)

Alyssa smiles a bit and whispers as she tries to settle more comfortably,
"How are your hands?"

Kassima makes a face at the mention. "A sight better than your throat, I'd
warrant. Only slightly burnt--wasn't as careful as I should've been about
beating out and hauling those Records--but you'd think from the way 'Lex
ordered me to see a Healer that I'd rolled around in the fire as much as
Tas. Men. But don't worry about me; how're *you*? You gave the Weyr a
fright, y'know, though 'twas hardly your fault."

"I didn't mean to," replies the bluerider, voice scratchy and just audible,
before she drinks more water and again coughs. "How much was saved?"

Alyssa gestures, by the way, at her cot to indicate she would like company.

"A'course you didn't!" Kassi immediately agrees, pushing herself up out of
the chair obediantly. Said chair is dragged over to cotside, with some care
not to bump it into anything. Resettling herself, the greenrider chews her
lip a moment. "I can't give you precise numbers. But the majority of what
was damaged, I believe, will be recopiable; only a few things were fully
lost. And only the far end of one shelf got burnt at all, thanks to you lot."

Alyssa makes a face and, at a stern glance from a healer, takes up the wax
tablet that has been left for her to use so that she does not strain her
voice. On it she writes, << I was foolish to stay as long as I did to try
to fight the fire on my own. I could have died. I was foolish. >>

Kassima scoots her chair so that she can see the writing. "Foolish? Nay
entirely, I'd say. Aye, you should've gotten out sooner, but I think 'twere
more brave than foolish. 'Twas a crisis: you saw what had t'be done and
tried t'do it. If'n trying t'reach beyond our limits makes us fools, then
Faranth help us, because that means the Weyr is comprised of 'em. I'd have
been in there with you, if'n I could've."

Alyssa simply smiles in reaction to this and uses her unbandaged left hand
to grasp the elbow of the greenrider, mouthing, "Thank you," and looking to
mean it.

Kassima covers the bluerider's hand lightly with one of her own, her broad
smile causing the corners of her eyes to crinkle. "Faranth, Lys, what is it
with you, always thanking people for just saying what's true? Honestly. But
I do thank you--as Wingleader as well as for m'self, for helping save the
Records. And if'n there *is* aught that you Infirmary folk need, just
mention it; I may nay make the most effective lackey at the moment, but I'm
certes willing t'give it a go."

Alyssa shakes her head, retrieving her tablet and erasing what is there
before scribing anew. << Kindness needs gratitude, Kassima. I'm sorry if
I've forgotten that of late. I haven't been myself. >>

Kassima admits wryly, eyes scanning over the words, "I had gathered. And
I'm sorry 'twasn't as sympathetic as I should've been to that. I just
didn't know *what* t'think, but that's nay excuse. I'm more than willing
t'forget and forgive the whole mess if'n you are."

<< I like more formality than you, but I have been harsh on everyone, I am
told, because I'm so unhappy. >> Alyssa looks at the words, then scratches
them out and closes her eyes, whispering, "I'm sorry."

Kassima agrees, "You do, aye. Which is fine, and your right. You may have
been a bit harsh--but methinks 'tis safe t'say, given how worried everyone
was about you, that 'tis naught that can't be forgiven." One dark green eye
closes in a wink, and then its owner sighs. "Lys, Faranth's sake, don't
worry about it. As far as I'm concerned, it didn't happen; naught t'be
sorry over. However, this unhappiness business deserves t'be aired. Is it
aught I can be helping you with?"

Alyssa pauses, thinking for a moment, and eventually writes, << Not unless
you can heal Meroth or youthen T'fian. >>

"Ah, so." Regret colors Kassi's tone; she shakes her head minutely. "Would
if'n I could, but I hardly have that power. Only advice I could offer is
that youth's nigh as much a thing of the mind as the body, and even elder
people--he's nay so very old, is he?--can enjoy life if'n they lighten up
enough... but I don't think T'fian would be the sort for whom 'twould do
much good. He's retired now, isn't he?"

Alyssa frowns and admits faintly, "Mostly, yes," as she reaches for some
tea that a healer has brought by. Then, as though it's easier for such a
thing to be written, she notes on the tablet, << I'm lonely, and I despise
myself for feeling that way. >>

Kassima remarks, quietly, "You shouldn't. Sometimes even a lifemate isn't
enough t'keep loneliness totally at bay, nor 'lizards, nor necessarily
friends. Especially for you, I suspect; you've had someone t'be with most
of your adult life, have you nay? And now that I'm assuming you and your
weyrmate don't see each other as much, you wonder that you're lonely? Even
pairs who share both kinds of Weyr still complain of being lonely
sometimes; the other's too busy, they never see each other... there's nay
shame in it."

Alyssa nods readily enough, tears stinging her eyes, and with a shrug
murmurs scratchingly, "I have Adonith. That should be enough."

Kassima shakes her head, pulling a somewhat careworn but clean green
kerchief from her pocket and offering it to the bluerider. "Why?" she asks
simply. "Dragons are wonderful, aye. Half one's heart and all one's soul.
But they're *nay* human, and we are. 'Tis a human failing that humans need
*human* companionship as well as draconic. We riders may nay be able t'be
totally alone, but that doesn't mean we should be guilty about being
unhappy if'n we lack the other kinds of companionship too."

Alyssa takes the kerchief and dabs at her eyes, swallowing back her
emotions and finding a slender smile. "I was so independent when I came
here, Kassima," she hisses hoarsely, "I don't know what happened. But I
have had love of good men; I should not complain." Then, as her speaking
causes some coughing to occur, she quiets and merely places her hand over
the greenrider's rounded stomach. And smiles.

Kassima laughs quietly as the baby within gives a strong kick, giving
another headshake. "Naughty child; shouldn't kick at Aunt Lys. Seriously,
though--you're still independant in the ways that matter, Lys." The
greenrider ticks things off on her fingers: "You can still watch out for
your hide and your dragon's in Fall, you've been keeping those Candidates
out of trouble, you pull more than your weight hereabouts; that's what
matters. Wanting company and affection in the doing isn't necessarily a
weakness, y'know. You *do* have the love of a good man... you just sound as
though you need more time t'be spending with him."

Telgar Weyr> Alyssa feels like she's in a C/W song, Kassi. "I have the luv
of a good man!"

Telgar Weyr> Kassima heyasnugs Saskia, and offers to regale Lys with one of
her Pernese country hits? 'If My Love Were a Dragonet's Couch, You'd Be
Mucking It Forever,' mayhaps? ;)

Telgar Weyr> Alyssa says, "AIEE"

Telgar Weyr> Leigh Fears.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima is a country music fan, but this doesn't keep her from
making fun of the sillier songs of the genre. (My next album is going to be
entitled 'B'bba Shot the Watchwher.')

With some nods Alyssa hands back the kerchief, mouthing her thanks, then
sighs and swallows to moisten her raw throat. << I despise myself for
feeling such self-pity and taking it out on others. >> Pause, that's
scratched out, then, << I thought about dying before I passed out and
wondered if I lived for Adonith alone. >>

"Self-pity," Kassi remarks, tucking the kerchief back away, "is also a
human failing. Show me someone who's never felt self-pity and I'll show you
a two-headed rooster from Rukbat; one's as likely as the other. As t'taking
it out on others--well, if'n you think you've been doing that, the only
thing t'do about it is apologize and try t'stop." She takes a long moment
to consider this last, before finally asking, "Does your weyrmate love you?
Do your children? Do you love them?"

Alyssa nods readily enough, murmuring, "More than life itself."

Kassima reasons, "So there's another reason t'be living. Love is one of the
best ones. Joy is another, methinks. And then there's duty. When you've
neither love, duty, nor joy, then it may be time t'wonder what you're
living for. Otherwise--well, you sound as though you still have love and
duty, and with love usually comes joy, so I'd say you have a number of
things t'be living for just yet."

"Until T'fian is gone..." Alyssa just shakes her head and, dispensing with
the tablet, takes Kassima's arm again to avoid the bandages on her hands.
"And again I'm feeling sorry for myself when I have so much to be thankful
for."

"After which you'll still have children and dragon for love, and duty as a
matter of course," Kassima points out, though her voice is somewhat heavy.
"Cold comfort, that. But you're a strong woman, Alyssa; stronger than
methinks you know. And young enough yet that even when the worst occurs,
though it may hurt terribly, I think--callous though it may sound--that
you'll be able t'live on and find joy again. If'n nay with another man,
then with other things. A person *can* be happy without a weyrmate or
lover; you can trust me on that much."

Alyssa whispers, "You're stronger than I, and you..." before she coughs
again, sighs, and takes a long drink of tea. On the tablet she writes, <<
You are braver than I. But you're right. And thank you, my friend. >>

Kassima snorts with amusement at that. "Lys, you'd be surprised. If'n I'm
strong or brave 'tall, 'tis to Lysseth's credit; she's the one who's had
the reshaping of me. Give yourself some credit, too. You've done things I'd
quail at a'fore, and met challenges I haven't. But you're welcome. And
thank *you* for your kindnesses."

Alyssa blinks and, as she lies back, informs the greenrider, "You're too
kind to me," and settles against the pillows. "Will you visit again?"

Kassima nods, setting her hands on the armrests of her chair in preparation
to get up. "Indeed; someone has t'help keep the place so crammed with
flowers that the Healers regret keeping you all locked up in here, don't
they? Any time you need a visit, just ask; I'm nay going anywhere, and for
a couple of days at least, I can't even do m'hidework, so I'm pretty much
at anyone's convenience. You could probably use more rest now, though."

Alyssa nods regretfully, though her eyes are heavy with the need for rest,
and whispers to her friend, "Thank you, Kassima...and please do not forget
I still care...?"

Kassima pushes herself up to her feet, and reaches to rest a hand lightly
against the bluerider's shoulder for a moment. "If'n you promise t'do the
same for me, methinks I can do the same for you," she replies. "You get
some sleep now, y'hear? Else the Healers will have your skin for a bedpan
lining."

Alyssa winces at that analogy but raises her hand to touch Kassima's
sleeve, then, before that hand is removed, is halfway to dozing already.

Kassima smiles fondly at the dozing woman, and excuses herself, much to the
relief of the various annoyed Healers.

You push the tapestry aside and enter the outer infirmary.