--------------------------------------------------------------------------

In Just Seven Days, I Can Make You a Man


Date:  May 22, 2002
Place:  Fort Weyr's Central Bowl and Living Cavern
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:  L'nan is *entirely* to blame for this whole scene, as
he's the one who invited me to come torment his poor flight-lost
character at Fort.  I can't be faulted for taking him up on it, can 
I? ;)  In this log, Kassi's been night-fishing at Bitra, but has ICly
decided to bring her catch to Fort to give to her old friend Master
Jorenan.  *He's* not about at this hour, but other folk are... and
a bit of midnight mayhem ensues.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------


The Log:

You spiral down to the ground, and backwing to a landing.

<*> Alirath whuffs a tired, sad greeting at Lysseth. He doesn't stretch out
his neck or greet - seems he's not keen on greens at the moment. He curls
up, secluding himself effectively.

<*> Lysseth descends from on high with a muted rumble, out of respect for
any nearby who may--more sanely--be sleeping, like as not... or it could be
because she's holding her breath, since her rider's carrying a mid-sized
cloth-wrapped bundle that possesses a distinctly fishy scent. "Ahoy the
Weyr," Kassi greets from on high, too cheerfully all things considered.
"And Alirath! Now, behave yourself, green wench--"

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.

Kassima receives a sharp nudge from a green muzzle upon landing,
accompanied by some silent comment to which she retorts, "Nay, you *don't*
always. Nay taunting the poor, tired blue, now. And don't be smug at him
either." Lysseth sighs and settles in for a well-behaved lounging.
Honestly, her rider never lets her have *any* fun.

You head into the Living Caverns.

Aeriste blinks at L'nan. "Nothing's the matter with me. You, on the other
hand..."

Kassima whistles to herself with a brightness that's just plain obnoxious
at this time of night as she strides in. Under her right arm is a bundle of
something whose shape defies description. "Duties t'Fort Weyr and her
queens," she greets the room in general, eyes already scanning the place;
the Aeriste-L'nan confrontation gets one puzzled blink before she cranes
her neck to peek towards the kitchens.

Aeriste blinks back at Kassima. "Fort's duties to Telgar and her Queens,"
he states rather primly.

L'nan is, at the moment, staring with confusion and some malice at Aeriste.
In his left hand is a wineskin. His right is propping up his head. Though
he doesn't look drunk, he's certainly trying his best. "Yes, well," he
mumbles at Aeriste. "Y'just seem a shade bit... snotty. I mean.. no need
t'be all kickin' my canines and such, as it were." At the too-bright
whistle and greeting, eyes shut and then reopen as he turns to consider.
"An' Fort's t'Telgar an' especially you, Kassi." He salutes her with the
wineskin and drinks.

Aeriste makes a rude gesture towards L'nan. "Only to people who seem to
think that their _knots_ give them license to be _rude_ while those lower
on the food chain have to suck up to them or they get _yelled_ at..." And
he pauses delicately. "But you wouldn't be one of those people, right?
Mister rider sir?"

Aeriste adds to Kassima, cheerfully, "He wants a woman right now. Really
badly."

"His canines and other bits have probably been kicked quite enough already
tonight," Kassi offers helpfully on L'nan's behalf. Well, maybe not so
helpfully. "Heyla yourself, both... and thankee, L'nan, I appreciate that.
Especially since I have a hunch being polite to greenriders might be a
stretch right now. Either of you know if'n Jorenan's still about?" Then, of
course, she must blink. "Lower *food chain*. Faranth's teats, so that thing
about eating the residents was *true*...." She'll not comment on the last.
Nope.

Aeriste nods gloomily. "They just devoured the last of the
twelve-year-olds, so I'm next. I've tried to tell the other children to
run, but they just wouldn't listen to me."

And with incredible self-control, L'nan just _glares_ at Aeriste. "Usually,
folks unnerstand that flight-lost riders are gonna be rude t'anyone -
Weyrwoman or bratty ten Turn old, take your pick. But then, maybe y'haven't
figured that out yet. I don't got any right t'be rude but I am right now so
deal with it." And then Kassi gets a look. Obnoxious, sure, but strained
politeness, too. "Yeah. An' no, Jorenan's not up right now, he's sleepin',
th'lucky- " Insert expletive here.

"You were rude the other day, too," Aeriste chirps at L'nan. "You must lose
a _lot_."

Kassima finds a table to set her bundle down on. It remains there,
quiescent, but continues to radiate the lovely odor of newly dead fish.
"Working their way up the age chain?" she asks, sympathetic. "They'd nigh
have to. Teenagers are *gamey*, y'know; the younger the meat, the sweeter.
That's why I try t'devour as many weyrbrats as possible while they're
still... oh... four, say. Eight's the absolute *limit*." A pause before she
adds, reflectively, "Though if'n you add lots of mustard... you all right,
L'nan? I don't recall you being this bad the other time, though y'may have
been a sight drunker." The look brings a rose flush across her cheekbones.
Nevertheless: "Shells. Well, do either of you want fish, then?"

Aeriste looks down at himself. "Oh, good. I'd hate to be _sweet_... L'nan
might want some, since it's the closest he'll get to smelling a-" and he
pauses delicately. "...Tonight."

"Was /not/," L'nan retorts at Aeriste. "I just joked with you an' y'went
an' got your lacey green undies in a twist. An' I don't lose a lot." Insert
drinking-motion here. He winces at Kassima. "D'we hafta talk about eatin'
littles? Or fish? An' watch it, snotface," he tosses at Aeriste mildly,
though he manages a sickly grin at some odd thought.

Kassima stills a moment, then turns to simply look at Aeriste for several
moments. "Faranth," she finally says, sounding a cross between amused and
mildly admiring. "You're going t'grow up t'be a right foul-mouthed bastard
someday, y'know that? Well. Retract that. Nay if'n you wear lacey green
undies." Tipping her head slightly, she admits, "We wouldn't *have* to. We
can talk about something else for all of me; you're the hosts."

"How 'bout wine," L'nan suggests to Kassi. "An' how you'll try t'keep me
supplied with lots've it 'til I can't see straight anymore, an' then how
you'll tote me up t'my weyr?"

"If'n you can't see straight anymore, that last should be an adventure,"
Kassi observes at her dryest. "But if'n you need an escort, then we could
be giving you a lift, so long as you don't throw up on Lysseth. And let me
leave these fish in your kitchen. The cooks at Telgar always eye any fish I
give 'em suspiciously right after a proddy-bout, as if'n they aren't
convinced I haven't *poisoned* the sharding things... nay that I'm nay
tempted," she adds for Aeriste's benefit. "Ever since one of 'em popped
m'youngest in a stewpot and all. But *wine*. Can't you do better'n that,
L'nan? I might have one of m'home-brews with me if'n 'twould help--"

Aeriste flashes both riders a bright smile. A pity his mouth spews forth
such vitriol. To L'nan, he notes, "You're way too horny to be talking about
my underwear." And to Kassima, "Thank you."

L'nan watches Kassi as she talks, his head bobbing slightly as if he's
nodding the beat to her speech. At her final offer he manages an aghast
look. "Y'want t'kill me, do you," he accuses her with a grin. "Wine's just
fine - I'd rather b'able t'walk tomorrow than not, thanks." A lewd look for
Aeriste is followed by, "Never too horny t'talk about /anyone/'s underwear.
Ain't that right, Kassi?"

Kassima manages *not* to openly laugh at this; take note, since it's surely
a masterful display of self-control the likes of which the world has never
seen. Her eyes gleam suspiciously nonetheless, however. "You're welcome,"
she answers in grave sincerity. "*Kill* you, L'nan? Never! I still haven't
won m'bet on getting you in pink lace things yet! When I get m'money,
*then* you can die, but nay until." She shakes a finger at him in emphasis,
then ducks her head so that he won't see her snickers at the lewd look.
"Mmm. I'm nay an expert on the subject per se, y'know, but I'd certes take
your word on it. Which green was it, by the by?"

Aeriste lifts his chin and states firmly, "You're _much_ too old for me,"
to L'nan. "And I'd bite you. Hard. And then you wouldn't have anything to
chase with."

"They don't technically *chase* with that bit," Kassima feels obliged to
point out. "Though 'twould mayhaps make more of a spectacle if'n they did."

Aeriste says "What, he doesn't make enough of a spectacle of himself as it
is?"

"Casmeth," L'nan answers forlornly. "An' Alirath was... well anyhow," he
interrupts himself, "Y'won't ever get t'see me in them pink things, shells,
you won't! So I guess I'll be livin' forever, eh?" Drink. Glance to
Aeriste. Stare. "Y'know, one girl, she bit me rather hard. Not where it
counted, but it was good timing." Rather than explain, he sinks back into
his chair. "M'not spectacle," he grumbles.

Aeriste flashes L'nan another smile. "Did it hurt?"

Kassima's reply to that is vaguely fond: "Oh, only when one of
us--greenriders, I mean--gets him schnockered and convinces him t'do
something that'll hideously embarrass him later. Like Alessi and Talisha.
Tell him what Alessi and Talisha did t'you in the Lava Lounge, L'nan?" Man,
she is so dead when he sobers up. "Don't tempt me, L'nan--'twas just when
V'hryn was flight-lost that I got *him* into the things. I daresay you'd be
nay trouble."

As if in afterthought, L'nan adds to Aeriste, "Never too old. Y'might be
too young, though. An' yes, it hurt. It hurt so much I- well. Y'know how
th'game goes." A wink Kassi's way, then a blink. "Tali an' Alessi? They
measured me. An' K'ryn. An' they made me learn how t'kiss. What else they
do? An' yes, I will too be trouble! It'll be great." Who knows what he's
referring to, exactly.

Kassima narrowly avoids choking on her first sip from the glass flask she's
dredged from some hidden pocket of her jacket. "I don't think biting is how
I usually choose t'play," she manages when no longer trying to expel
alcohol from her windpipe. "But methinks I can guess what you mean...
right. The measuring. That, I'm sure, was a spectacle; the kissing, I'm nay
as sure of. Precisely how d'you mean t'be trouble?" She just had to ask.

Aeriste perches on the edge of a table, and swings one foot lazily.
"Pathetic," he informs them both.

"What, him?" Kassi asks, jerking her thumb L'nan-wards. "Nay, he's being
reasonably sane for flight-lost. Naught like K'tyn. *He* tried t'be
ordering that every woman in the Weyr should go about naked whenever a
flight happened."

L'nan nods solemnly to Aeriste. "Yep. Y'are. But don't lose heart, laddy.
Perhaps when y'my old age, y'might lose some of your.. uh.. patheticness."
He pauses, then leans forward to inform Aeriste, "That there was a joke,
s'don't go twistin' them lacey green undies again, k?" Aaaah. Kassime asked
The Question. "Trouble as in I'd letcha see /my/ lacey green things," he
says as sweetly as he can, slurring.

R'nal comes in from the bowl.

Kassima's hand holding the glass flask pauses, then slowly lowers it to the
table; the other comes up to rub at her chin. "Potentially glorious
blackmail material," she murmurs, "versus having t'explain *why* I saw
anyone in lacy green things. This one is a poser. Isn't there some young
lady hereabouts with exclusive rights t'such viewings? By the by, please
observe how I'm carefully nay asking why you two are trying t'outsnark each
other. 'Tis most uncommonly polite of me. I should be awarded some sort of
prize in marks for it, really."

Aeriste blinks, his eyes wide. "I hope some ofd them bit him, too." And to
L'nan, he inquires with all of the withering stare that a thirteen-year-old
can muster, "Was that the best you can do?"

R'nal walks into the room casualy looking around and humming to himself
sofltly. The bronze firelizard on his shoulder seems to be listening to the
melody while it clings to the pad on the mans shoulder.

Aeriste adds to Kassima, "You make it sound like he's in my league."

L'nan nods at Aeriste. "Uh-huh. An' it's so pathetic, right? An' yet
/still/ less pathetic'n you." He grins at Kassima. "Y'know y'wanna see'm.
Maybe even wear'm. An' Kassi... we're not snarkin'. We're arguin' th'fine
points've respect. As you can see, he got thiiiis much." He holds his
fingers a bare inch apart. "For anyone. 'Cept he 'spects /us/ t'bow t'him."
Snort. Guzzle. Glare.

Aeriste considers L'nan. "You don't know anything about who I respect and
who I don't."

L'nan grins maliciously at Aeriste. "Sure I do. Y'don't me."

"Alas, nay. He was the Weyrleader at the time. But he never lived it down,
and I have it on excellent authority that some aspiring Harper turned it
into a hilarious ballad." Slanting a glance back to Aeriste, she inclines
her head. "Correct; your pardon. L'nan's at the core a nice man, y'see. Bit
of a softie in things. Never seems t'have really developed the gift for
being a bastard." And just for emphasis, she reaches over to try and ruffle
L'nan's hair, though the hand pauses to wave to the incoming rider
en-route. "*Wear* 'em? Shells, L'nan, I doubt they'd *fit* me. Anyway,
y'know flight-lost is a bad time t'be arguing respect."

"Never a better time," L'nan retorts to Kassima, leaning away from that
ruffling hand. "An' I'm tryin' t'learn t'be a bastard from Aeriste here.
Hey, R'nal." A glum wave. Then, "You'd still look good'n'm, Kassi. Tight's
better. An' we could always take'm off." He gives her a big smile,
half-kidding and half- well, flight-lost, really.

Aeriste shrugs at L'nan. "When you treat someone like they're stupid just
because you can, don't expect that someone to respect you." And to Kassima,
"If my choice is between being a bastard - I am one, but isn't nearly
everyone in a weyr? - and being like him, I'll be a bastard."

R'nal notices the hand and sends a nod and smile back at it. He fills a cup
of klah and pauses in his humming to take a sip. R'nal notices it is L'nan
at the table and waves to him to while walking over.

L'nan holds up a hand towards Aeriste - the purpose isn't really clear. "I
made a /joke/," he manages to say clearly. Head swivels to repeat Kassi and
R'nal-wards, "A joke. An' he took it t'mean I thought he was dumb." Swivel
back to glare at Aeriste. "I'm not so bad, really. Y'just are too prickly,
s'all."

"Your prerogative, and aye, we've almost all our own moments of bastardry."
Kassima reflects for a moment. "Though y'might call it something else for
the women; nay often y'hear of one of us called bastard. Odd. Only
*everyone* can't be one, or all the fun would go out of it; probably the
whole world would eventually stone each other t'death or some such thing."
With a faint smile, she supposes, "Since 'twasn't here, 'twill just nay try
and guess who's the right, methinks--ah, now, L'nan, y'know you'd be
regretting that in the morning." She's a nice shade of red again. Blushing
greenriders; who would've thought it?

Aeriste snaps, "You didn't make a joke. You treated me like a stupid kid
and when I told you off, you yelled at me that I wasn't being respectful to
you because you were a _rider_ and stormed out of the weyr, because you
were arguing with someone else and I was a handy target, MISTER RIDER SIR!"
And he slaps a hand down hard on the table beside him, making a few mugs
bounce.

R'nal looks kinda confused for a moment as he settles into a seat with out
rembering his manners to ask, "Wait who we callin dumb now?" Another sip
and another quick question, "So what are we arguing about today?"

"...Ow," Kassi mutters at the yell, reaching up to rub at an ear.

Aeriste, like all children, has a yell in direct inverse proportion to his
size- and for a kid with such a mouth, he's not very big.

L'nan snorts. "Since when've you been embarassed 'round me, Kassi?" he
chuckles. And then he's all eyes and ears for Aeriste. "It /was/ so a
joke," he grumbles. "Y'just took it like th'kid y'are. Stop yellin', it's
annoying. Y'act like a snotnosed disrespectful loudmouthed kid, then y'be
treated like one. Same's if I'm a jerk an' get treated like one. Which I'm
not. An' don't usual get treated like." Grammar's going downhill, yes. To
R'nal, "Guess I'm a big wherry face 'cuz I joked an' was mad at someone
else... forgot I hafta be perfect t'get some weyrbrats' respect."

R'nal winces when Aeriste yells. The bronze liazrd also makes its annoyance
known by warbling in the direction of the lad.

R'nal glances at l'nan and shrugs, "This yellin is all about respect
problems?" He archs an eye brow, "You sure your the weyr second here?"

"Since you were flight lost and saying things I could almost think were
propositions," Kassi replies promptly. "Nay oft I hear such things, for
*some* strange reason." She leans back in her chair as the argument picks
up, evidently not of a mind to get involved when such things occur on
foreign ground.

Aeriste's lips press together, and he slides off the edge of the table.
Crisply, like he's seen riders do, he salutes. "Yes, sir," he states
coldly. "You're right, sir. I'll take myself away now, before I offer you
any more disrespect."

L'nan waves at Aeriste. "Oh, don't go cuz'v me, Lord Aeriste," he sighs
dramatically. "Y'know I've scared off my quote of folk already t'night, an'
y'shouldn't tantrum off jus' since I dis'gree with you. Siddown, c'mon,
drink, don't yell, an' don' be so prickly, shells and shards, eh?" And then
Kassi gets a sorrowful look. "Almos'? I'll hafta try harder. An' last time
I checked, yeah, R'nal."

Aeriste glowers, his expression distinctly sullen, and folds his arms. And
leans against the table. "When I'm as old as you, will I always get my way,
too?"

R'nal shrugs, "Well I was rasied up to have respect for dragon riders....
course I was obsessed with their dragons and tried to get them to tell me
stuff so showing respect always seemed to help." He smiles and says
knowingly, "Weyrbrats dont know how lucky they are to growup with dragons
around them all their lives."

Aeriste grits his teeth, and simmers in silence.

L'nan snorts. "Lord Aeriste, if I got m'way, y'think I'd be here, now?" He
gestures to Kassi. "Think I'd jus' be jokin'," and he emphasizes that last
word, "With'r? No. I'd've whisked'r off t'my furs. With're permission,
'course." He winks lasciviously at Kassi, leaning back and grinning to
R'nal. "Y'better watch out, h'might deck ya."

Aeriste snorts faintly and looks away.

"Probably," Kassi confides to Aeriste. "Or when you're drunk. People tend
t'humor you quite a bit when you're drunk. Though it helps, really, if'n
everyone else is *also* drunk." These words of wisdom imparted, she
narrowly avoids choking again: "Y'mean *'twere* propositions, i'truth?" Her
voice doesn't suggest offense taken, only startlement. "Oh... oh, well...."
She slants a long, surprised look at him. "But I thought you did have a
lady-friend...? Pshhh, anyway, respect for the job's one thing and respect
for the person another, isn't it?"

Aeriste mutters, "He doesn't understand the difference, apparently."

R'nal nods at the wise weyr womans words and just now realizes she is not a
fellow fortian, "Oh um Welcome to Fort" He says with a quick nod of his
head, "I'm R'nal rider of blue Azureth." He extends a hand and adds with a
grin, "I was a clutchmate of L'Nans."

L'nan nods to Kassim, fluttering his lashes at her and looking ridiculous.
"Sure I was. Don'tcha get prop'sitioned all th'time? When y'not killin'm
off with your poisions an' knives?" So he has retained some of his sense -
just not enough. The wineskin in his hand empty, he gestures for another
one and promptly receives it. "Does so make difference, Lor' Aeriste," he
protests. "Said so m'self, if'da listened th'other night. Rank's one,
person's th'other."

Aeriste shrugs. "I think you're a jerk, sir."

"Jus' cuz y'don' know me, s'all," L'nan replies amiably. "I think you're a
snot an' not too quick, but fardles, I hardly know you."

Aeriste arches a brow. "If I'm not too quick, then you're practically going
backwards, sir."

R'nal frowns at the youth, "That is no way to talk to a dragonrider, and
your sarcastic attempt at respect is insulting."

"Kassima, green Lysseth's," Kassi replies, reaching her hand to complete
the greeting with a quick-flashed smile. "I saw you both Impress, as memory
serves. Well met and all that." Continuing her practice of by and large
staying out of the argument, she replies, "A'course I don't, L'nan; never
have been, actually, since E'vrin and that wasn't flight-involved... well,
there's *L'cher*. But he propositions aught with legs. He once tried t'jump
a table."

Aeriste flushes faintly. "You're the source of all wisdom, sir," he says to
L'nan, with a brilliant smile, and not a touch of sarcasm in his voice. "I
look up to you, and- I wish I were you, sir!"

"Ouch," L'nan allows, at Kassi's retelling of someone going for a table.
"Y'might be right't that, Lord Aeriste... right now I /feel/ like'm growin'
backwards." A grin at R'nal. "Y'met Aeriste yet, R'nal? He don't think
w'need t'be 'spected, really. 'Less we cuddle'm or somethin'." Grin turns
back to Aeriste and melts. "Shells, no, y'don't! An' no I ain't. If y'were
me, Alirath wouldn't like me anymore, m'sure." To Kassi once more, he
grins. "Well, sure s'prises me. Y'cute an' witty an' beautiful. What's not
t'proposition, 'sides your knives?"

R'nal glances again at kassima and with a grin, "I think she's worth
propostioning even with the knives." He gives her a wink before turning his
attention back to Aeriste, "I think I've seen him once or twice around here
but you know me busy busy busy." He inclines his head, "Its ummm... nice to
meet you."

Aeriste clasps his hands together. "I was so mistaken about you before,
sir. I-" And another of those smiles. Such a sweet child. Really. "Can I
think of you like a big brother? You're _really_ smart." And to R'nal, just
as cheerfully, "Nice to meet you too, sir."

Kassima does murmur a bit belatedly, "They've been flinging insults back
and forth long enough that methinks neither of 'em can be faulted for
sniping at the other at this point. Mayhaps--this is just a suggestion,
mind--this argument should be taken up when you're both at full mental
capacity? If'n naught else, 'tis less of a challenge t'battle a handicapped
opponent." Trust her to think of it that way. And to quip, with wry
self-depreciation, "In most cases, I'd suggest that as a man, you should
tell me; only in these circumstances... oh, *Faranth*. Keep this up and
I'll be visiting Fort more oft just for the compliments."

L'nan's smile blooms - and it's a sincere if goofy one. "She called me a
man." He leans towards Aeriste, apparently not taking any of his words
seriously and in fact ignoring everything the boy has said. "She called me
a /man/. T'means maybe she'll gimme a ride up t'my weyr, whatcha think?"

Aeriste shrugs, and slides off the table. "I wouldn't know, sir," he
chirps, and heads for the bowl. "I'm only a boy who has no respect for
authority."

R'nal smiles at Kassima some more, its been a while since he had time to
relax, "I wouldn't mind that at all." He glances at L'Nan and informs him,
"I think she was talking to Aeriste here."

L'nan calls after Aeriste, "G'night, Lord Aeriste... here's t'hopin' y'get
over y'self, eh?" And he takes a pull of wine. Then R'nal gets a hurt look.
"Y'think so?" He glances at Aeriste, then sighs. "I s'pose, she'd wanna
younger'n than me, eh. Hmph."

Aeriste's cheeks go bright pink. "She wasn't talking about _me_, you-
...sir!" And he stalks out.

Aeriste heads out the cavernous entrance to the bowl.

Lysseth> Alirath lifts his head as Aeriste stalks out, and he whuffs at the
boy once before lowering and snoozing again.

Lysseth> Azureth also perks up and seems more awake then the other dragons.

"With the last part of that? Nay, I meant L'nan; nay t'imply Aeriste isn't,
that's frankly none of m'business," Kassi adds, with a glance after the
departing youngster. "G'deve, Aeriste, was it? Pleasure t'meet you, in an
odd way." She behaves herself and does *not* snicker at Aeriste's blush.
She deserves an award for that. "If'n you truly *want* a ride t'your weyr,
L'nan, then 'twill give you one, only you have t'promise t'remember whose
idea 'twas." Pause. "And nay t'tell Kich or Tali or Alessi. They'd *giggle*."

R'nal grins, "Sir? I kinda like that insult." He nods at Kassi, "Oh I know
whom you ment but its fun ta give the lad a hard time. I riders scorn he
can handle but a ravishing lovely ladly isn't something I'm sure he is used
to." He shurgs.

Lysseth> Aeriste scowls and leans against the wall of the bowl near the
entrance to the living cavern, and slides down until he's sitting with his
knees drawn up. "It's not fair," he mutters sullenly. "What can you say to
a weyrsecond? You can't."

Lysseth> Lysseth doesn't snort or whuffle, but merely glances in the young
man's direction briefly; if her spinning blue eyes are anything to judge
by, she's hideously amused--and thus likely distracted--by something.

L'nan watches after Aeriste and then turns to look from R'nal to Kassi.
"Was't somethin' I /said/?" And then _he_ bursts into giggles. Well, manly
giggles. "An' Kassi, if you'd be s'kind, I think th'wine's agreed with me
terribly. An' I'll 'member, 'specially if y'don't go wanderin' off too
early in th'mornin'," he adds winningly.

Lysseth> Azureth tilts his long neck this way and that glancing at the
youth near the entrance.

Lysseth> Alirath has promptly snuffed out his interest, curling up into his
anti-social ball of blue hide again.

"There's someone at Telgar who'll only call me Sir-Dung-For-Brains," Kassi
recalls. "I asked her to. Said even that'd be better'n that sharding
*ma'am* business. Ah, now... lad's a bit of a bastard, I'll give him that,
but 'tis sounding as though there's some misunderstanding about that'd be
better cleared up at another time if'n y'get what I mean." She's not going
to say 'When L'nan's not half out of his mind.' Turning red one more time,
she murmurs something about silver-tongued Fort blueriders as she rises
from her chair. "M'Wing's drills are in the afternoon tomorrow," she admits
with a wry, half-shy smile, "so I'll see what I can do, only I'm still
doubting you'll feel the same come morning-time. Anyway."

L'nan quips, standing with his wineskin in hand, "I'll call y'that if
y'want, Kassi... if I c'n 'member it all. Sir.. uh, brains?" He weaves in
place, though he doesn't seem to notice he's not all that steady. "Wing
drills, shming shills. Y'good 'nuff, 'msure, eh?" He gives R'nal an
outrageous grin, wink, and thumbs-up sign. "Night, 'Nal. C'mon out t'teach
young'n's 'spect more often, eh?"

Kassima suggests a bit drolly, reaching to try and inobtrusively steady
L'nan some, "Mayhaps we should just stick with 'Kassi.'" She pockets her
glass flask of whatever-it-was, and turns her head to mention to R'nal, "A
pleasure making your acquaintance; you should visit Telgar sometime, hey?"

R'nal smiles, "L'Nan your going to try to fly in that condition?" Shakes
his head, "Do you rember them telling us about having to much wine and
trying to fly was a big no no? If you dont let me know I'll be taking some
skins back to my weyr." He grins and looks over at Kassi, "Why would anyone
feal diffrent in the morning?"

L'nan repeats, "Kassi dung brain," doggedly. His hand reaches out to brace
himself on the table, but he misses and stumbles towards Kassim. "Whup-
missed. Y'mind helpin'?" With that, he attempts to put his arm around her
waist, though it seems to sincerely be more for support than to get fresh.
"S'what I say, 'Nal. Mornin', night, whassa difference? Furs'll still
warm." He's making less and less sense...

L'nan adds, "An' Kassi, she gonna fly me up t'my weyr, s'don't worry'n help
yourself t'the wine, s'good. Good."

R'nal nods to Kassi, "I'll have to take you up on that offer. My mother
taught me my manners but I belive it was my father who told me never to
refuse an invitation from a lovley lady." He gives a smile at this comment
and salutes the pair with his half full cup of klah.

"I'm giving him a lift, methinks--and, well, you should be asking V'hryn
that; he's the one that started screaming, only methinks that did have more
t'do with the pink lace than *me*, really...." It's not a very helpful
explanation, is it? Kassima seems to realize this, and lets it drop there,
she slips her arm around L'nan's waist in turn and uses it to try and help
guide him outside. "Just Kassi alone," she corrects firmly en route.
"G'night, g'night!"

R'nal murmers to himself, "Pinklace?"

L'nan tries skipping but ends up tripping instead, so he resumes his
attempts at walking, which works only slightly better. "S'just Kassi,
right, jus' Kassi. Night, 'Nal, night. No pink thingies, s'no good on me.
On you, maybe. On 'Nal, mebbe. Not me." And he stumbles beside Kassi out
towards the bowl.

"Long story," Kassi clarifies--sort of--before making good on their escape,
such as it is.

You head outside to the bowl.

L'nan walks across the bowl from the Lower Caverns.

Aeriste edges deeper into shadow as the pair of riders emerges, and says
not a word.

Azureth turns his gaze over to the emerging riders.

"...an' Aeriste, too, an' mebbe s'more've th'stableboys, an' girls, an'
auntie Synthia, p'haps?" L'nan's babbling. "But not me. An' I wanna show
y'my green lacies, th'not mine, I borrowed'm from someone, but they're
cute, an' on /you/ they'd be- whup!" Before he can get into verbal trouble,
he's tripped again. "I needta get t'my furs," he groans.

Aeriste's voice is just a touch shrill. "I don't WANT to see your undies,
you pervert!"

R'nal walks across the bowl from the Lower Caverns.

R'nal walks out the main door and gives a quick wave to the three before
clambering onto to his blue and flying higher into the sky.

R'nal climbs up onto Azurth using the blues limb for a step.

Kassima murmurs, "I don't think Aeriste would want you t'put him in pink
lace," with a wry glance and discreet wiggle of fingers--greeting, parting,
one of those--for the young man in question. "Make you a deal: you can show
me the green if you'll wear something in pink for just a *couple* of
minutes? Just enough t'win that bet for me, pretty pretty please? Oof!"
That's at the trip. Guiding the bluerider Lysseth-wards, she says mildly to
the dragon, "If'n you'd kindly stop laughing long enough t'lower your neck
for us...? *Thankee*, Your Ladyship."

Aeriste's voice rises even more. "SICK."

Aeriste, then, smiles with terrible glee. "...I'm going to tell _everyone_
how you said you wanted to see me in pink underwear, Weyrsecond L'nan.
You'll be in so much trouble."

The drunk bluerider seems to think, at first, that Aeriste's voice came
from Azureth. "Well, why not?" he asks the dragon pathetically. Then he
notices Aeriste and he snicker-hiccups. "Naw, y'don't, y'right. An'
y'wouldn't look good in pink /or/ green," he muses, carefully trodding
Lysseth-wards. "N'pink, sorry, Kassi dung," he says sincerely. "I don't do
pink. 'Specially since I don't have any..." And here he takes several
moments peering at Lysseth as if figuring out the best way to mount. Then,
"How d'you mount a green?"

"Just Kassi," Kassi half-pleads, "*please*. The dung thing is really going
t'be spoiling the mood if'n you keep it up. About the same way you mount a
blue," she adds, amused, "especially since she's about Alirath's size--a
bit bigger, if'n aught. I'll mount first then give you a hand up." She lets
go of him carefully, so that he hopefully won't fall over, and reaches for
Lysseth's straps--adding only, brightly, "If'n anyone turns *that* into a
ballad, Aeriste, I want t'be one of the first t'hear it."

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.

<*> L'nan blows a raspberry at Aersite, ends up spitting on himself, and
then follows Kassima - taking and needing all the help he can get.

L'nan accepts Kassima's proffered hand and swings up onto Lysseth's lower
neckridges, settling himself behind Kassima carefully. Kassi grins and
reassures the dubious Lysseth that L'nan is safe, and the green faces
forward as her rider gets ready to fly.

Kassima is not evidently taking any chances with her intoxicated passenger,
since as soon as he's up she sees to all the necessary buckling of straps
herself. No innuendo intended, thank you. "Which way t'Alirath's ledge, now?"

<*> Aeriste waves to Kassima, suddenly quite cheerful. "My duty to Telgar!
Even if you are giving a ride to a pervert."

<*> Alirath has been discretely watching the goings on, and when L'nan
successfully mounts, he stretches his wings gracefully. A rear-end waggle,
and then he launches into the sky as if to lead Lysseth the right way.
L'nan, atop Lysseth, makes himself comfortable, wrapping his arms about
Kassima rather more touchy than strictly necessary. "F'low Al'rath."

"Will do," Kassi agrees, and signals Lyss aloft--but not before waving back
to Aeriste and calling, "Duties back t'Fort and her perverts!" Yeah, that
works.

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

You launch into the air.