-------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Rewards of Impulse Date: August 31, 2003 Place: Telgar Weyr's Southern Bowl Game: PernMUSH Copyright Info: The World of Pern is copyright(c) to Anne McCaffrey l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kassi's Note: I really like this log. :) For three reasons: one, for the quality and enjoyability of the RP; two, for its importance to a future plot and possibly also to character dynamics (you'll see what I mean), and three, because Yashira finally actually got to knee somebody! ;) I left that part in the log, even though Kassi's not on the scene. I couldn't resist. The scene starts somewhat abruptly since I signed on in the middle of the pre-flight RP; Dianneth's just about to rise, to the indubitable delight of the maleriders onhand. Afterwards, Kassi seeks out a flight-lost I'sai in the Bowl to offer him Benden wine, condolences... and something a bit beyond. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Log: Lysseth> "Goodies," B'var says, propping himself up by the elbow. Blurry eyes try to focus on S'vyn and T'van, but they fail. So, he decides to get to his feet. Miraculously, he makes it, brushing off his jacket and straightening it out. Yashira, Gay, and Yselle get a grin. "Evening, ladies," He says, turning to S'vyn, T'van and I'sai then. "And, ladies." He starts laughing again. Lysseth> "Lots and lots of cranky people," I'sai agrees. "Could always hoist 'im over your shoulder and dump him in the infirmary or something? Unless you think he'd sick up," at which point he eyes the drink-sodden pair that much more thoughtfully, straightening away only for T'van. "Did you hear that? He called us -ladies-. And... very tender, very cranky ears. Why would you want to do the same thing, though? Why not try for something -different-?" Lysseth> Javinia's pushing her ash brown waves out of her eyes; they're mussed, windblown, the night wind still picking, nagging at them. She's not as neatly dressed as usual. Her brown's hulking down beside her, great velvet nose nudging the air, the glimmer of his eyes torn between his own at Dianneth. At the sound of her name, Javinia turns to Gay, managing a less than bright, "Heyla." Lysseth> R'var stares grinningly up at S'vyn and T'van, his head lolling on his neck like it wasn't attached very well. His hair is damp, and choppy locks stick to his forehead, his cheek; clearly, he's lost his helmet sometime and -somewhere- this night. "Saa.. Sa, hey, -hey-," he starts, smiles with stunned idiocy. "Washn't.. us, fight? Not right now, yeah? Yeah, not.. " He grunts. "Yeah. Brev? Where'd Brev go? I mean my hat. My hat, Brev.. are you still, you are holding it, right, for me?" Lysseth> Yashira nods to I'sai. "So what if they spew? Not like that hasn't happened to me before. Or you, you have a horde of spawn." She claps her hands together. "Lovely, then. You can take the irritating bluerider, and I'll take the Fort rider. Sound good?" Lysseth> Yselle breaks free of S'vyn, since he's so busy glaring at R'var, and crouches down to the turnday boy. "Happy turnday," she says brightly. "How old are you? You don't look a day over sixteen." Since she's so cheerful and all, she administers a very enthusiastic turnday kiss. Her beaming lasts for all of the full two minutes it takes Dianneth to wake. Her eyes whirl angrily, red, chaotic. She /hisses/ at the males as though she could drive them back with the force of her voice. Her rider too is affected; changing so quickly from happy-vague to furious in the time it takes for the green to wake. "Get away!" she snaps. She pushes herself away from R'var, administering an open hand slap as though all of this were /his/ fault. "Get away. We're hungry!" She stands, shaky, eyeing them, all those maleriders she so recently wanted to kiss in an angry, paranoid way. "Go away." Lysseth> "Evening," Gay responds to B'var, politely and automatically, though her nose is still a bit crinkled when she glances at the brothers. Javi's of more interest right now - though the weyrling's quick gaze flashes back to Yselle now and again. "Hey." She pauses, at a loss for words before she manages, rather brightly, "Nice night." Lysseth> Javinia tries to take in the scene -- R'var and his ... brother? -- I'sai among them? Her wingsecond seems to have things in hand. Gay. Thank Faranth for Gay. She leaves her brown with an obvious reluctance, meeting up with the goldrider, a quick look up. As if trying to be polite, she says, "It was earlier, when Tray and I were up at the Stones, but ... " Blinking, her hazel gaze goes straight to Yselle. Lysseth> Indrath straightens a touch at the shift in Dianneth's composure; favors her rider with a quick glance before his own gaze spins crimson, and he spreads his wings a touch to taste the evening wind. Lysseth> B'var answers R'var first. "I have no sharding idea where your helmet is, Riv. For all I know, Fir ate it." His eyes remain on Yashira, though, clouded and unfocused as they are. Her comment brings an overly charming smile, however, and he says, "Where are we going?" Lysseth> I'sai's slanty brows dart in, "What does spawn have to do with spewing? Other than the first three - no, two letters and a 'w', and make that a - " that slap breaks him off, and he whistles sharp and low, "Never mind. Much harder and he'd have to go to the infirmary for real." A long look at Yselle's followed by his indeed taking a step away: towards the records room, to stash those precious hides. Lysseth> Chanth seems overly pleased with himself today, and happier than the churlish brown usually is, too. Sitting lazy and still, watching the fun, he suddenly comes more awake--like Indrath. With a hiss, he lurches to his feet. Lysseth> "They spew. It's a thing spawn do," Yashira explains to I'sai. She glances over at the slap as well, then eyes the dragons in general. "Jays." To B'var, she says, "We're going to flying dragon land. Keep your pants *on* and you may survive." Lysseth> Naelanth hunkers down, shoulders rounding up, head going low, almost boulder-like in posture, except for that long length of tail. His gaze follows his rider, but it's Dianneth he's watchful of now, though he holds still, gaze shifting, moving between his and the glow of the green. Telgar Weyr> K'ran snickers at Yashira. I love you. Run away with me. Telgar Weyr> Yashira says, "Keep your pants ON and maybe I will." Telgar Weyr> Yselle giggles. Lysseth> Decarath's head bobs once; now that the rider's clued in, he spreads his wings and watches attentively. Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Like Big Jim and the Twins would let themselves be made vulnerable around *you*, Yash? Shouldn't they know better? ;)" Lysseth> R'var touches his slapped face, and then drunkenly eyes his hand. "Oh, no," he moans, starting to chuckle helplessly. "She's going up-- Brev, she's.. u'n, up. An' I'm so.. drink. Uh uh. Brev. Brev, you're going to ha.. hahave to get her, all right? I can't.. uuhn. Can't e'en find my hat with both hands. Not my hat, I mean-- " And he just grins, eyes wobbly beneath low lids and long lashes, lolled out on the ground like a dropped sack. Lysseth> Gay's eyes are fixed on Yselle, even as Javinia's are - wide and a little surprised and just a little bit fascinated. She doesn't say anything, merely lifting a hand to pat her friend's shoulder lightly. When she finnaly speaks, it's only a low, "Good luck." Whether it's for Javinia or her brown? Hard to say. Lysseth> Yselle staggers back, looking around rather desperately as if now she has no idea where to go. She whips her eyes to each of the suddenly threatening maleriders, and with some desperation fixes on Gay. "Gay.." she says "We're..." /Then/ Dianneth leaps up. Hissing once again, she flies over to the feeding pens. She does not look back. Her flying is tense, angry. Stay away. Lysseth> Above, Taralyth leaps out from Taralyth's ledge, high along the cliff. Lysseth> Dianneth takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to carry her aloft. Lysseth> Above, Dianneth flies towards the north end of the bowl. Lysseth> "My *pants*?" B'var says, scowling at Yashira. He also takes the opportunity to look down and make sure the garment in question is still where it's supposed to be. "I got my.." he trails off, eyes shifting to Yselle. "Hey," he tells R'var, as if it's news, "I think Yselle's proddy." Lysseth> Decarath was waiting for that. He springs aloft, like a feline darting after its prey. Lysseth> Decarath takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to carry him aloft. Lysseth> Above, Decarath flies towards the north end of the bowl. Lysseth> Above, Taralyth vaults up from his ledge, bright wings glinting wide - _wide_, there in the moonlight, Timor's shadow bold and black, Belior's subtler, barely there; he's all but silent, gliding there in the cold, crisp night. And then she, too, leaps - leads - and he sharpens his arc toward the killing fields. Lysseth> Above, Taralyth flies towards the north end of the bowl. Lysseth> Javinia blinks, casting a glance across the line of her shoulder to Gay. Her mouth tightens, straight brows drawing together, but then it's a deep breath, a nod. With an index finger, she makes a little cross over her heart, giving the goldrider a meaningful look. There's concern in her expression, for Yselle, but she makes no move toward her. Of course, "Not sure Naelanth's going to ... " The brown's still hunkered, wings flexing, flexing. Lysseth> Firianth stumbles an uneasy step, and another, shaking the ground. His wings stretch, and with a stumbling sort of charge, he lifts, ungainly, hulking up into the sky. Lysseth> Firianth takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to carry him aloft. Lysseth> Indrath takes to wing a moment after Dianneth, dusk-kissed frame slung long and low over the bowl to where blood beckons. Lysseth> Indrath takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to carry him aloft. Lysseth> Chanth takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to carry him aloft. Lysseth> Above, Indrath flies towards the north end of the bowl. Lysseth> Above, Chanth flies towards the north end of the bowl. Lysseth> Yashira eyes Decarath as he leaves, then narrows her eyes at B'var. "Your. Pants," she hisses irritably. Lysseth> Above, Firianth flies towards the north end of the bowl. Lysseth> B'var narrows his eyes in return, glaring at Yashira. "I *got* my pants," he tells her, pointedly. "Maybe you should watch your own pants." To emphasize his point, he slaps Yashira on the backside, all friendly like. Lysseth> Naelanth watches the other dragons take wing, though his eyes search for green. One last look toward his rider, almost apologetic the snort he puffs out, the sound making her turn. They look at each other for a long moment, and then he's rousing himself, nose leading him up into the night. Lysseth> Yselle swallows. Surrounded. She closes her eyes as though if she doesn't /see/ them, they're not there. "Hungry," she breathes. "So hungry." She takes a wild swipe in front of her, heedless of T'van stepping towards her and only ducking away in time, to give S'vyn the full force of the slap. Lysseth> Naelanth takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to carry him aloft. Lysseth> Above, Naelanth flies towards the north end of the bowl. Lysseth> "Ys - It's fine. It'll be fine. You know what to do." Gay's tone is much calmer than one might expect. A nervous step towards the greenrider, then she turns to Javi in time to catch the gesture - she offers the brownrider a slight smile and a nod. Lysseth> Yashira's eyes narrow. Blink and you miss it - her arm darts back behind herself, hand clamping down on B'var's wrist. One painful jerk and his hand's far away from her rear. She turns, gracefully, quickly, knee coming up to slam between B'var legs. It's like she doesn't even have to think. OW. OW. OW. Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Yashira, I love you." Telgar Weyr> R'var says, "Well, I guess I'm never getting any nephews and nieces :)" Lysseth> K'ran comes out of the short tunnel from the living cavern. Telgar Weyr> Yashira says, "B'var's a dear for letting me. :)" Lysseth> Javinia's grimance is evident, and Naelanth gone, she looks rather lost herself of a sudden. Hazel eyes look from face to face, pause at I'sai, before moving on to ... Yashira and the Fort rider? That seems to sink in -- slightly. "What in the -- " Lysseth> B'var would be saying that--Ow--except he can't breath. His knees buckle, and he finds himself on the ground again, grunting. Well, sort of grunting. He still can't remember how to breathe. Lysseth> Above, From the Telgar Star Stones, Tadara's steely blue Agrarth rears on hind legs and bugles a greeting to blue Alirath and his rider, L'nan of Fort Weyr. Lysseth> Alirath backwings for a landing. Lysseth> Reeling back from the blow, S'vyn clutches his reddening cheeks and yells. "She can't eat, Ys! Only the blood!" He glares at T'van and yells "YOU are supposed to be her friend dimwit. Do something." But Yselle is still eyeing them all in horror. "Gay..." she's the only safe one. Lysseth> Yashira tilts her head to the left, eyebrows raising a little as she peers down at the little curled up Fortian brownrider. "That's why you don't do that," she informs him calmly, lips quirking a bit at the corners. "They never learn." Lysseth> I'sai'd jerked a backwards nod Yashira's way, just so's she might have known he'd heard; now, exiting the records room with his arms freed but his collar clasped that much more closely about his throat, it's his turn to stare: "What'd - what, Javi? What happened to him? Tell me she doesn't have a knife in that dress - Gay. Get her to the guest weyr, and _go_." Lysseth> Atop Alirath, L'nan is grumbling at his lifemate audibly. "...don't know why you were in such a hurry, since after all I didn't need to do this 'til later, an'..." Still muttering he dismounts, backpack of hides on his back. "...shardin' blue lump...such a hurry..." And he starts to head towards the caverns. Then he sees the crowd, and his eyes narrow. Lysseth> L'nan unstraps himself from Alirath's neck and slides down to the ground. Lysseth> Alirath doesn't wait for his rider to catch on. He just goes. Lysseth> Alirath lumbers north. Lysseth> R'var by now is entirely conquered by the ale and good times of too many Holds-- he lays out senselessly on the ground, smiling vaguely, lips parted, passed out. Lysseth> "She knee'd him!" Javinia says with some incredulity, and not a little awe. Her hazel gaze sweeps back to I'sai. "She knee'd him." It's enough to keep her occupied, until the guest weyr is mentioned, until things start to escalate. Lysseth> K'ran emerges from the living cavern at a run, barefoot and hair-damp despite the cold, and with haphazardly-tugged-on shirt and breeches that smell of sweetsand. He pulls up short before he reaches the gathering, rakes a hand back through his hair to govern it -- and upon finding R'var with his eyes, allows a wry smile to curve his lips. "Charming." Lysseth> B'var eventually gets his breathe back, squirming a little and as yet unable to get to his feet. It might have something to do with the fact that he won't bring his hands away from where Yashria kneed him. "SweetMotherMuckBucket. What hit me?" comes out in one breath. It takes a moment to get another. "Oh, I'm gonna need to visit Ice Lake, I just know it." Lysseth> Gay rushes over to Yselle's side at the greenrider's echo of her name, at I'sai's direction. Javi's shot a quick, concerned glance before; "Okay, Ys. Just the blood, right? We gotta go, okay?" She takes the other woman's arm gently, steering her away from the maleriders and the feeding grounds, towards the weyrs. "It'll be fine." Lysseth> Yashira nods proudly to Javinia. "I did. He touched me. It was a bad idea." Lysseth> Yselle clings to Gay. "Tell them to go away," she pleads. She looks back to glare at them all. "Just the blood," she whispers. "I can't do this. Tell them to go. They can't catch us." Lysseth> A dragon lands, shooing off a bunch of layabouts who are in his way. Lysseth> "That's Yashira for you," and I'sai's tone carries in it something like pride; he moves to join them, steps light, wary. "Guess no Bitra after all, hey? though it's still a gamble. A gamble, make your bets now - " Lysseth> L'nan's narrowed eyes take in R'var and B'var and he frowns. "Is there a fight going on? Is that why-" Then he glances towards the feeding grounds and snorts. "Huh." Returning vague attention to B'var he asks, "Y'all right? What happened t'you?" A quick grin to K'ran and the others he knows in the area. Lysseth> Yselle moves down a short passage and past a curtain, moving out of sight as she enters the workroom. Lysseth> "Can too," says Gay, almost cheerfully. "You can too do it. You're ready, and you have to." She squeezes her friend's arm, steering her towards the guest weyr. Lysseth> Gay moves down a short passage and past a curtain, moving out of sight as she enters the guest weyr. Lysseth> Yashira strides after Yselle, still pleased with herself. Lysseth> Yashira moves down a short passage and past a curtain, moving out of sight as she enters the guest weyr. Lysseth> Javinia looks, wonderingly at Yashira, back to R'var's brother, the other bluerider. Then she doesn't seem to know where to look. Small, work-callused hands tug at her clothes, pat over them, as if for something to do, and she watches I'sai, the other riders, marvelling at their calm. Lysseth> K'ran stoops briefly to attempt a swift poke to R'var's shoulder, as if to satisfy himself that the bluerider's merely passed out drunk and not dead. If he answers L'nan's smile wanly it's only through circumstance, and he, too, is picking up his feet to follow the group to the guest weyr. Lysseth> K'ran moves down a short passage and past a curtain, moving out of sight as he enters the guest weyr. Lysseth> B'var grasps at L'nan for a hand to help him up. "Faranth knows," is the only answer he has. Once on his feet, he stumbles a bit, straightens, and takes a step, trying to be cool. IT doesn't work. He'll be walking like a wherry for a while. Lysseth> Gay emerges from the passage leading to the guest weyr. Lysseth> I'sai ducks past the drunkards with a hissed curse. Lysseth> I'sai moves down a short passage and past a curtain, moving out of sight as he enters the guest weyr. Lysseth> L'nan gives B'var a hand up, eyeing the other rider. "Uh, all right, then..." He clearly thinks the brownrider's a bit daft for the moment, but after all, there's a flight on. "C'mon..." With a quick grin, he adds, "You gonna be able to perform if Chanth catches?" Then, before B'var can hit him or something, he ducks into the guest weyr. Lysseth> L'nan moves down a short passage and past a curtain, moving out of sight as he enters the guest weyr. Lysseth> Javinia breaks into a trot, following after the others, a grimace for Gay as she comes out of the guest weyr and the brownrider heads in. Lysseth> Javinia moves down a short passage and past a curtain, moving out of sight as she enters the guest weyr. Lysseth> Gay darts out of the weyr and back towards the other end of the bowl. Lysseth> Gay walks north. Lysseth> B'var moves down a short passage and past a curtain, moving out of sight as he enters the guest weyr. [Editor's Note: Time passes; the scene picks up just after flight's ending, with Indrath having proven the victor.] Lysseth> Yashira emerges from the passage leading to the guest weyr. Lysseth> L'nan emerges from the passage leading to the guest weyr. Lysseth> Javinia emerges from the passage leading to the guest weyr. Lysseth> B'var emerges from the passage leading to the guest weyr. Lysseth> I'sai emerges from the passage leading to the guest weyr. Lysseth> L'nan walks north. Lysseth> Javinia walks north. Lysseth> Taralyth backwings for a landing. Lysseth> Chanth lumbers here from the north. Lysseth> Yashira glowers, swinging her head toward the living cavern and stalking in that direction. Lysseth> Yashira walks beneath the lintel and disappears into the living cavern. Lysseth> B'var only breathes again when Yashira's past him. "Phew." A grimace, and he turns to Chanth, rubbing the brown's nuzzle quietly. Lysseth> Lysseth has stirred from her drowsing, some time during all this melee; and she watches the return of the males with... well, it's not *quite* open amusement at their plight. She has manners. Lysseth> B'var grabs his brown's straps and quickly mounts the dragon, settling between the narrow neckridges. Lysseth> Chanth takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to carry him aloft. You slip out of the records cavern. I'sai hastens toward his dragon, reaching up towards that dark muzzle, muttering imprecations low in his throat - those and, nigh as softly, "Her mistake, boyo. You're everything I - " Kassima doesn't leave the shelter of the Records Room entrance until most of the maddening throng has passed--no fool, she, nor quite as wicked as her dragon since her gaze holds more sympathy than laughter as it flicks across this chaser, that chaser. "Her taste in males is interesting," she comments to I'sai, nearly as softly, when she's near enough--and raises one hand, the wineskin dangling from it giving a muted, half-full sort of slosh. "You're both all right?" It's the slosh - familiar as it is, with its weight and promise - that attracts I'sai's attention, slowly, slowly, even before the even more familiar voice. He turns, hands trailing along that soft hide as if he can't get enough of his dragon even now, nor Taralyth, dark-eyed Taralyth, of him. Once the words have sunk in, "And no accounting for it," he says, mastering his words to levelness, "Though I do believe I'll have won a palmful of marks off it. Or two, the way - No, there's no point, let's leave them; we'll be all right. Yeah." Gray eyes consider green; "And, and if you're going to dangle that in front of me - tell me you'll share." Telgar Weyr> Kichevio waves. :) And fears Kassi's status. ;) [Editor's Note: It was 'Puffy Purple Pimp Pants!' ;) ] Lysseth's a moment before drifting in her rider's wake; if her eyes still spin blue, there's no mirth in the soft warble, half-croon, she offers Taralyth of the eyes-so-dark. For others, the amusement. For *him*: something closer to consolation. "I can't say I understand it either," Kassima murmurs, it being her turn to sound a trace amused. "Given the alternatives. You found people t'take that bet? You lucky sot--but you're right; you can collect later." It's with a wry smile that she raises the wineskin to eye-level, gives it a slight shake to make that slosh ring again; then unstops it, and offers it to him. "Would I be so cruel as nay to? Consider it yours. And good Benden, too, so you can also consider me magnanimous." Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "What can I say, Kich? It's Hammer time! ;)" Telgar Weyr> Caliah hides behind R'var. Telgar Weyr> Kichevio passes Kassi the magical shoes and stands back. ;) Telgar Weyr> R'var snores. :) Telgar Weyr> Yselle says, "Hammer time?" Telgar Weyr> Lanisa says, "Hammer time! :)" Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Yes. Yashira can demonstrate the dance." Telgar Weyr> I'sai admires Yashira. Telgar Weyr> R'var cracks up. Taralyth arches his neck into that nigh-croon, he'll do that much, and fastidiously lift his wingtips against from the earth - but only a hairsbreadth, only just enough. "I did," agrees his rider, "And can only guess they didn't... but you'll start me on it; later is good," and he takes a step forward for that shake, that slosh, and another as slowly to reach. "_Good_ Benden. Did you know I was coming? Yash went past - just don't ask me to pronounce mag, magnam, whatever." Telgar Weyr> Yashira demonstrates. Yashira comes out of the short tunnel from the living cavern. Yashira stomps out of the living cavern, holding a wineskin and looking grumperrifc. Telgar Weyr> Yselle says, "Yashira is so cool." Telgar Weyr> Kichevio comes down to watch! Saulith backwings for a landing. Kichevio slides down easily from Saulith's neck. A soft sigh issues from a green throat; Lysseth sidesteps, shifts--there, close enough to offer a light brush of muzzle against the gleaming arch, a soft rumble for the lowered, valiant wings. "I'll start you on it later," Kassi agrees. "Since I'd like t'hear *this* story, but making you wait for the wine would only be cruel. Watching, 'twas, from the Records Room for a time; I saw Taralyth land. I saw Yash knee that brownrider." My, but she sounds pleased. "'Twas ever so proud." Her hand and its burden meets his halfway, the scent of good red wine perhaps carrying; she adds, "And would I be so cruel as t'do that? Really, now." There's a tailflick from Lyss to greet Grumperiffic Yash with the Kung-Fu Action Grip, as well as Kich and Saulith. Kichevio slips down Saulith's side into the snow, giving her dragon a sidelong glance as the green immediately starts sweeping snow about with a wing and a forefoot, crooning cheery greetings to the other dragons with no regard to whether or not cheer is merited. Kichevio starts padding through the snow to the small group of riders, pausing just long enough to shape a snowball and lob it at Saulith. "You bring me out in this, accept the consequences...Yash kneed a brownrider? I'm sorry I missed it." In order to avoid any recurrences of the Kung-Fu Action Grip, she proffers another skin of wine. "It's not as fine as Kassi's, but I have a feeling it's needed. Is there more to the story?" Saulith gets a long, silent look, but then Taralyth turns away, past her rider, back to his; I'sai breathes out, breathes in that wine. "Of course you would," he says, though he still can't dredge up a smile. "And look, past you; there's Yash. Speaking of kneeings - and you look due for another," that last called to the brownrider, as he sidesteps to try and put Kassi between them, in case. Yashira grumbles, pointing out, "He touched my bum. No one's getting kneed - I'm going to my weyr. And then I'm gonna drink." Decarath lumbers here from the north. Kassima notices Kich and Yash a beat after her dragon does; she turns her head long enough to nod greetings to both, her glance towards Yash sympathetic. "Best thing I've seen in a full Turn, that," she offers to the brownrider, sounding as if she means this as a compliment. "I'm proud." Back to I'sai. "You may just overestimate m'cruelty in this particular situation--look, I'll even protect you from kneeing, aren't I kind?" She spreads her arms as though in defensive position, lest the Death Yash or anyone else seek to pounce; but past the moment, her expression drops thoughtful, and she lowers her voice to murmur something to him. I'sai senses Kassima turns her head enough to meet grey eyes with green, or at least the corner of green. "Speaking of kind, and hopefully of that lack of cruelty... is there aught else, I'sai, I can be doing t'help you?" It's softly asked, that question; hesitant, almost shy. "Or will the wine suffice?" Kichevio can at least pretend to wait patiently--eventually, she'll hear the story. "A bum-groper generally does deserve a kneeing," she agrees softly. Always agree with the grumpy. "Too much action for us to come down and add chaos to, but we watched from the ledge. It's good to know Ys and Dianneth are carrying on the tradition of rambunctious maiden flights." Yashira clambers onto Decarath, mmmphing. "Stupid tradition," she mutters. She waves half-assedly, and then Decarath springs aloft, spiraling up to their weyr. Yashira climbs up onto Decarath's back. Decarath takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to carry him aloft. "You saw it?" I'sai says, eyes wider now, if just as grayed; he's about to say something to Yashira - past his protector - when she goes, and all he can do is sag back against Taralyth, his share of the wineskin still in hand. "And I'm with her. -Stupid- tradition, and..." as further words sink in, surprise reflects, unguarded, on those sharp features. To Kassi, "You wouldn't - mind?" You sense I'sai's abruptly wistful, appreciative, _hopeful_ through it all - though he'd never have thought she'd - that it'd be enough - "They had a fine turnout, by the looks of it," Kassi offers to Kich, "which does help in the rambunctiousness. Mayhaps Yash will remember the kneeing with more fondness later--" Apparently, we have found Kassi's definition of a Kodak moment. She lets her arms fall and turns to face I'sai fully, a smile touching the curve of her mouth at such surprise; "Nay," she denies, quiet. "Nay with you. If'n you'd want--" Kichevio chuckles. Sight of Yashira kneeing an overly amourous and equally flight-lost fellow brownrider--priceless. "Yash always looks back on such things with a certain fondness." Having eyes to see where Kassi and I'sai are probably going with their conversation, she lobs the wineskin she's holding loosely towards the bronzerider. If he catches it, great, and if not, there's a convenient snowdrift handy. "I have no use for this at the moment. I imagine you do." I'sai senses Kassima's eyes, when she's turned, can be seen to hold some of that same wistfulness, wistfulness and warmth for him and pleasure beside--the reaction pleases her; no doubting. "I'd always help you," she murmurs, just above a whisper and for his ears alone. "However you wanted; only I didn't think you'd want, didn't want t'offend you in offering. Something about tonight seems t'have made me impulsive, though." You sense I'sai replies quietly, quickly, and not quite questioningly - not quite, but nearly - "No offense; I'm _glad_ of it, glad not to be like B'var and - impulsive, it suits you; your weyr?" I'sai senses Kassima gives a soundless laugh: "You're naught like B'var, in any way that I know of; and I'm glad, that you are. Mine would be fine, or yours, or wherever you'd be most comfortable; only, y'know," and she's suddenly teasing, eyes gleaming a wicked green, "nay *here*. Kich would tell stories." "And well she should," I'sai says, "And she was being, what was it, ram - rambo - _ornery_, and not Dianneth. Yash was. Dianneth just sat there," and when he breaks off to reply... well, the wineskin catches him dully in the shoulder, much like where the green's beast had smacked Taralyth earlier. He looks up, faltering to catch it and keep the hold on the other, and eventually has it clamped between elbow and ribs. Just as awkwardly, "Thanks. I, we," and he nods to Kichevio, with a touch of a smile, and moves to follow Kassima and go. Telgar Weyr> Yselle suddenly collapses. o.O Telgar Weyr> Yselle says, "Take care all, and thank you all again. :D" Telgar Weyr> Caliah hugs Telgar Weyr> R'var hugs Telgar Weyr> Kassima snugsaYselle. :) Telgar Weyr> I'sai says, "See ya, Ys! Have a good one." Telgar Weyr> Kichevio tucks Ys in. :) Telgar Weyr> Yashira waves. Kassima has a sheepish smile for Kich, when she turns briefly from him--"I'd say I taught her well," she quips, "but she was born with that particular knowledge, methinks." No comment on the gift of the wineskin besides a slight widening of that smile; she nods to I'sai then, and reaches for her lifemate's straps. 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. <*> Kichevio steps back, away from any miniature blizzards that might be stirred up, and sweeps a gracefully florid bow in response to both. Wine has been given, dragons to their weyr(s), moons in the heavens, all's right with the world. <*> "Good 'nough," I'sai says with some relief, and fumbles the wineskin - both wineskins - where he can hold their mouths with the one hand; he ducks Kich a quiet nod for her bow, waves the wineskins at her and almost drops them, and barely makes it up to Taralyth's neck. At least now, when the dragon snorts, it's that much closer to amusement; and Lysseth's let to lead the way. <*> I'sai swings up to Taralyth's neck. <*> Lysseth offers a rumble of her own touched by soft laughter--and with a lash of that long, char-brushed tail, she's up, and gone, to blaze the skytrail. <*> Lysseth springs from the ground, the air from her wings churning up dust as she takes to the skies. You spring into the air and catch the thermals rising from the bowl floor to carry you aloft. You fold your wings and land on Lysseth's ledge, then make your way into the weyr proper. <*> Taralyth backwings for a landing. 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. I'sai slides down from Taralyth's neck. Kassima must have noticed that difficulty in climbing onto Taralyth, on his part, since once she's slid down from Lysseth's neck she slips over to the bronze and bronzerider, to offer a hand: "I can be taking the wine off your hands," she suggests, quietly amused, "if'n 'twould aid." "So long as you give it back," I'sai says with a small smile, but rather than giving the wine to her, slides down and into her arms. "...Better?" Taralyth overlooks this with a slow release of breath, dark head sinking to paws, long wings sinking tremulously back. Kassima exhales a moment's caught breath in a manner not that dissimilar, and curves her arms around him so that her hands rest lightly on his back; she leans into the hold before murmuring, "Much--" And, with that said, trying to catch his lips with hers. As for Lysseth, she furls her sails in close and settles at Taralyth's side: offering a companionship more chaste by necessity, in lieu of the kind that, as dragons, she cannot now give him. And Taralyth moves to curve a wing over her, for all that it's not Lysseth who needs protection; and with her not scenting of proddiness, not yet, it's all the companionship he'd now seek. I'sai, now, he'd catch her rider's lips as much as she catches his, and then unstopper the wineskin - make that, _her_ wineskin, not the other - to share if she chooses; and beyond that he readily, eagerly follows her lead.