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Start Spreading the News


Date:  March 28, 2003
Place:  Telgar Weyr's 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.

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Kassi's Note:  Thunderbolt-related news abounds in the Weyr today.  
First, the riders of that Wing learned when they met for morning drills 
that they would be receiving a two-sevenday vacation in honor of 
Kassi's twenty-Turn anniversary as Wingleader; then, as if that weren't
enough, Kassima begins to let people know why she won't be taking full
advantage of the break to go beach-bumming as some of her compatriots
intend to do.  The amazing thing is that there's not even *one* screech
of horror or fear!  Oh, how the dubiously scary have fallen.

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The Log:

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

Yashira is seated on the edge of the hearth, a bowl of soup in her lap.
She's hunched over said bowl, guiding said soup in said bowl into her mouth
with a spoon. Slurrrrp. Slurrrp. Slurrrp.

[Editor's Note:  In the interest of helping some of the RP
in this scene make more sense, I've included the +bbpost I
made about Thunderbolt's vacation below. ;) ]


---

19   Kassima           Fri Mar 28 14:12 2003 Thunderbolt Vacation!

	Thunderbolt Wing's drills were scheduled for late morning on this
particular day, and the riders of that Wing assembled on schedule--but once
everyone was present and accounted for, they learned that there was, after
all, to be no drill. Nor would there be any for some days to come.
Wingleader Kassima explained that today was the twenty-Turn anniversary of
her Wingleadership, and as a reward to her riders for enduring her for so
long, she had arranged to give them all two sevendays off. No drills, no
sweeps, no chores, no errands (and no Falls, though there wouldn't be
anyway, it being winter); unless there's some sort of emergency, every
rider who flies in Thunderbolt is completely work-free for the next fortnight.
	This is just a small something to provide RP fodder, my and Kassi's way 
of celebrating five RL and twenty VL years of Wingleading respectively. :)
Thunderbolt folks, feel free to live it up during your sudden vacation--and
hey, if it provides an excuse to get out of the Weyr and show people across
Pern what wonderful RPers Telgarians can be, so much the better. ;)

......................................TGW....................................

---


"...But the only thing I fear is hearing after the two sevendays that
Miryenne's gotten herself pregnant again, with all those out-Weyr flights
she's bound t'hit. Let the men sow as much chaos as they can; I don't have
t'deal with that, but if'n I never, ever have t'put up with a spawning
Miryenne again 'twill be too soon. And y'know how bad she must be for *me*
t'say that," Kassi adds to Karanaya, walking in side-by-side with the other
Wingleader. Karanaya gives a sympathetic nod, then excuses herself to her
own Wing's table. Kassi's left to mosey on over to the array of food by
herself. "My, Yash, what attractive slurping sounds y'make," she drawls to
her Wingmate along the way.

"Yes, yes," Yashira grumbles. "I practice them for your delight, you know."

"Somehow I find that entirely credible." Kassima stands in front of the
serving table, giving its contents a long perusal before making her
selection. Her plate is piled with a generous helping of packtail, stuffed
peppers, cornbread, lemon bread, and cake by the time she actually makes it
to her Wing's table. "Is the soup good?"

"Of course it is, my mother made it," Yashira says automatically with the
air of someone trained to say something. She shuffles her feet, having
another slurp of stew. "Youre *sure* there's no work to be done?"

Kassima gives a sagacious nod. "Ah, well, then. 'Twould by necessity be
delicious. If'n I'm still hungry after this lot, I may try a bowl." Safe
enough to say, likely, with all the food involved in 'this lot.' She
attacks the packtail with fork and knife. "Nary a whit," she confirms,
oh-so-cheerily. "Nay a whit and nay a speck! You've the sevendays fully
off! 'Twill nay hear of any of you doing so much as a single sweep or one
word of a report. Unless," honesty compels her to add, "there's an
emergency, a'course, another fire at Smithcraft or some such, but I'm
wagering against that."

Yashira groans. "This makes me so... twitchy. I don't like it one bit.
Maybe they'll let me hunt again, that would be nice. We could finish that
spar - it's only been, what, four turns?"

"You'll get used to it." Kassi's more over-sweet than truly consoling.
Judging by the gleam in her eyes, she's amused at Yash's discomfiture.
"Besides, two sevendays isn't really that long. But I didn't think I could
swing longer. At least nay for now; in another ten Turns, if'n I should
last so long? You're getting *three* sevendays off, mark me. I do think you
should hunt. Hasn't it been an age since you last did?" There's a pause,
and some picking through of food, before she then says, "'Twill have t'say
nay to the spar now, though. Nay that I don't want t'finish, but now's a
bad time."


Pierron looks up from his cooking to expound to you his opinions on the
latest news.

"Deplorable rumors, in my opinion. You know that vacation the Thunderbolt
Wingleader gave all her riders? Well, I've heard a rumor--though V'dan was
the source, so the Egg only knows how true it is--that *she* won't be much
able to enjoy it; the Healers have grounded her, apparently. Though there's
some argument over whether another pregnancy's the reason, or she got into
an odd accident that involved fish somehow. I overheard C'vadan tell Cheni
he was adding to his moderately large brood. He didn't give a name, but did
say the mother was a Fortian Wingleader. I'm sure we'll find out soon
enough.  Have you heard of these new writing sticks woodcraft has
developed? Technology is moving too fast for my taste. "


"It's been an age," Yashira says, expression bordering on mournful. That
last comment earns a funny look. "Now's a bad time?" she repeats.

Kassima points the tines of her fork towards her erstwhile mentee. "All the
more reason you *should*, then. Take that crossbow for a spin; has the poor
thing been sitting unused all this time?" Stuffing a forkful of packtail
into her mouth gives her an excuse to pause again while she chews.
"Mmm-hmm," she says post-swallow, picking up her mug of cider. "Sparring
with fists, it can sometimes involve punches to the stomach, y'know. Can't
risk that."

Yashira can, on occasion, be remarkably obtuse... especially about 'them
women things'. "Stomachache? You shouldn't be eating all that... that is
quite a lot of... oh." Enlightenment dawns. Not that obtuse after all.

"Nay quite," Kassi murmurs, a touch of droll humor to the words. She spears
another bite of food and stays silent while Yash comes to her own
conclusions; then, "I hope that expression on your face means you're
thinking the right thing, nay that you're thinking I've gotten all weak and
soft and that's why I'm against being punched. Since 'twould be a rather
more embarrassing thing t'have someone think."

Yashira has another spoonful of soup. "Nah, not weak. I'd be pretty annoyed
if someone'd said so to me when I was carrying Iralne, after all."

Kassima mutters, breaking off a piece of cornbread, "Pretty annoyed,
naught; you'd probably have socked 'em so they flew clear across the room
and *through* the opposing wall. But aye, that's the right thought." She
dabs the bread delicately in some of juice from the fish and peppers on her
plate. "Makes the whole vacation a bit ironic, really; 'twas intending to
enjoy it *too*. Get out t'Boll so the lump can sun, that sort of thing. At
least 'twill still have the break from reports and what-all."

Yashira nods to Kassima. "I like this mental image you have of me. Good
work. Why won't you enjoy the vacation? Are you retching a lot? You're not
so far along, are you? I thought it just got more and more and more
uncomfortable the longer it went on."

"I hardly had t'work at it; you supplied so many of the materials
yourself." Kassi lifts her mug in a half-sardonic, all-amused toast-salute.
"Only in that I can't travel--well, aye, and the retching thing. That puts
a *slight* damper on m'holiday spirit. But I can deal, really; 'tis truth,
it's only been a month and a sevenday or so, so I've nay complaints besides
those. Beyond having t'drink milk. I hate milk. Wouldn't trade things, mind
you, milk or nay."

"I had no idea you were so against milk," Yashira says with some amusement,
finishing her soup by tilting the bowl up and drinking the last of it down.
She sets her bowl aside, leaning over and placing her forearms on her
thighs and knees. "Month and a sevenday. And this will be your seventh?"

Kassima explains in somewhat mournful fashion, "I've *never* liked it--fine
t'cook with, fine as cheese, beyond fine in iced cream, but t'drink? What a
revolting concept. And I don't even think *that* much about where 'tis
from. I just don't like the taste." She clasps her cider mug momentarily
close. "So I'm being a rebel and having cider today. 'Tis m'anniversary,
and I'll drink what I want to." Setting the cup down--the better to free
her hands to take up fork and knife again, though she's already pretty much
decimated that poor packtail--the greenrider affirms, "Unless they tell me
in a few months 'tis twins again, aye, but I'm clinging to the thought of
just seven. Once with two was frankly enough."

Yashira makes a face. "Two at once would just be a pain in the arse. Back.
Both."

"Nay that I'd say as much in front of Kim and Ky, but I completely agree."
Kassi flashes Yash an amused grin. "Alas, though; does that mean you don't
plan t'spawn any twins? Triplets? What this news will do t'my pool on you,
I can't imagine."

Yashira snorts. "Right... you ask this as though you *planned* to have
twins. No one does!"

Kassima has to admit, "Well, nay, *I* didn't. But I've heard of women in
the Holds who do the strangest things t'try and conceive twins so they can
have more children in less time. One of m'cousins claimed she ate every
twin-yolked wherry egg she could find *raw*. Which was somehow supposed
t'give her bairn the proper idea, I guess."

"That's really very disgusting," Yashira announces. "Did she end up having
twins?"

"Eventually. Simayridali and Lirymorisia. A'course," Kassi observes,
considering her slice of cake, "after she actually bore 'em, she never said
a word about wanting more twins again. Funny, that."

Yashira snickers. "Yeah. I can't imagine why," she says, finishing with a
snort.

Kassima lets the cake go for now and sets in on the peppers, eyes rolling
up in bliss at the first, crunchy bite. "Mmmph. So, then; you've heard
m'news. How are things going with you?"

Yashira grunts. "Nothing special in particular. Same old, same old. I have
more time to visit Igen now, I suppose, though U'yn's certainly not on
vacation."

Telgar Weyr> Maylia waves briefly, and woo-hooos! VL vacation!

Telgar Weyr> Kassima snugsaMay, and grins. :)

"Aye, but they can't keep him busy *all* of the time. He'll likely be
pleased t'have a chance t'spend time with you, nay?" Kassi inquires,
arching an eyebrow and munching more on the pepper. Munch, crunch. "Is that
rumor I heard about Teria finding herself a weyrmate true?"

Yashira blinks. "What, did she? Bronzerider, right?"

Kassima nods, visibly surprised. "Nay a bad guess. What made you say so?"

"Saw her pretty cozy with one last time I went there for a hatching,"
Yashira replies, shrugging one shoulder. "Keturath's. Yeah. Good for her."

"Ah, that one. Missed it," Kassi confesses. She finishes off the pepper
with one last *crunch*, and now, now she can finally eat that cake. "Heard
about it, a'course, but I hadn't many wagers running--didn't know many of
the Candidates; y'know how that is, probably. Huh. What I heard about
Teria's that she's with A'zric now. I hope Jazmin likes her. Mayhaps she'll
get a few more grandkids out of the match."

"A'zric! That's it," Yashira says, nodding. "I didn't really like him one
way or the other, but it's not me who has to like him. Besides, considering
the mess we all went through... it's better if I dislike him, really. And I
missed you there; going to a Hatching without you feels odd."

Kassima chews at her lower lip, a furrow appearing between her brows. "Why
is it better if'n you dislike him? D'you dislike Teria so much that you'd
wish someone unpleasant on her? Or d'you just mean 'tis good you don't like
him *too* well? I'm fond enough of Yaz, but then, I've known him since he
was five. It gives one a different perspective." After a moment's
consideration, she gives an amused snort. "Mind you, given that the first
time we met I accidentally sent him running off crying... oh, well,
thankee! 'Twasn't sure whether anyone noticed I hadn't gone. I've nay had
the best luck with making Hatchings recently, have I? 'Tis always a shame.
I never really tire of seeing 'em."

Yashira nods to Kassima. "They're interesting. Always meet new people at
them, too. And I like Teria - we like each other. We're even friends. I
just meant that it was a good thing I didn't like him too as well, yeah.
Not that I think I'm just so wonderful and I'll steal men, just more...
well... once was really enough."

"And occasionally fleece new people," Kassi reminisces, with a happy memory
sort of sigh. "But I'm all for the meeting as well as the fleecing of new
people, certes. I understand what you mean. 'Twouldn't do t'invite it
t'happen again, just in case. You might like Yaz better--as a friend, I
mean, nay more--if'n you ever spend more time with him, but then again,
mayhaps nay. Methinks I'm required by rule t'look with some favor on
m'Searchrider's children."

Yashira holds up a hand. "Stayin' away from A'zric. Yup. Hmmn. I haven't
met many of your children. Kisai, certainly."

Kassima slants a distinctly, slightly drolly amused look towards the
brownrider. "You must've met Kris, at least? He told me whose green's
clutch he Impressed that wee green of his from."

Yashira waves her finger. "Right, Kris, too. Yup! Guessed who he was the
son of easily enough, with the hair and the eyes. How's he doing with that
little green?"

"Aye, he's nay one of the harder ones t'recognize as mine. If'n perhaps nay
as easy as Kaylira or Kyjain," Kassi quips, finishing off the last bite of
cake and leaning back in her chair to sigh the sigh of the contentedly
full. "*He's* doing fine with her, but I hope for her sake he'll find a way
t'talk Kiss out of this idea--d'you know, she's planning a *handfasting*
for her bronze and Theoretical? With a little red dress and everything.
She's so happy about the notion, 'tis hard t'pop her bubble, but I'm nay
sure Theoretical will put up with such a thing even if'n Random might."

Yashira blinks. "No. Not unless that green has mellowed a whole lot. Also,
well, um... no. Ohdear. Iralne knows not to pester Charmy anymore, but
there was any number of cuts and scratches before that. Griz is fine to
molest, since he's so laid back. I think Theoretical takes after Charmy,
though."

Kassima assures with plenty of wryness, "Which she hasn't. Kris hasn't had
any luck teaching her t'sit quiet on his shoulder while he does hidework;
apparently she keeps wanting t'leave teethmarks in the hides, or clawmarks.
But he may perservere; and if'n nay, well, he's nay complaining any. I'm
*hoping* Kiss won't poke Theo into scratching at her. Since Random would
probably take offense t'that, and 'twould all be chaos and confusion from
there. Grizeldan sired the clutch, then?"

Yashira nods slowly. "Possibly. He looked sort of... smug for a while
before she clutched the eggs. And Charmy was extra-irritated at him. Just a
theory, could be any fire lizard; I don't know what she gets up to."

"Probably, then." Kassi's expression turns rather sheepish. "I can't always
tell who sires m'greens' clutches. Mind you, I almost never *find*
m'greens' clutches. When 'tis one of m'own blues--or Kazander or Kayedris,
theoretically, though I don't think they've caught any yet--I can sometimes
tell, but otherwise? Just as well, though; if'n I noticed the greens'
flights too much at this point, I'd be in a constant state of distraction,
as many of 'em as there are."

"Or in a boozy stupor," Yashira says, nodding. "In any case, I rather liked
the lot that Charmy squirted out."

Kassima snorts at that. "I do at least manage the boozy stupor often
enough." She sounds more amused about that than anything. "Squirted...
out... Faranth, Yash, there's a mental image t'make me moderately sorry
I've just eaten." Apparently a bluff, since while she did perceptably
swallow she doesn't seem inclined to run off gagging or turn any
particularly virulent shades of green. "But Ramoth's claws know Kris is
fond enough of his lady. First fire-lizard he's ever had. I wish him plenty
of luck in training her t'take messages without molesting 'em somewhere
along the way."

Yashira shakes her head. "Mine never really learned. Charmy once pretty
much dropped a letter and a belt buckle on U'yn's head once."

"Kayvist trained up well for message-running, but most of m'others can't
really be bothered." Kassi takes a moment to look nonplussed. "She dropped
a belt buckle on his *head*? Did he *mind*?"

Yashira blinks. "Well, the belt buckle was a gift, and he likes gifts,
so... not really, I think. I suppose it's just her nasty streak showing
itself."

Maylia walks in from the bowl.

Yashira is seated on the edge of the hearth, empty bowl beside her with
accompanying spoon.

Maylia, well, saunters into the living cavern. She's looking quite relaxed
-- and quite tanned? Heck, even burned, across her cheekbones. Yes, it's
winter, but not everywhere.

"I've had things given as gifts that I'd nay want dropped on *my* head,"
Kassi mutters, bemused, "particularly the narding table Merla gave me. I
suppose a belt buckle wouldn't be *so* bad, though. If'n something had
t'drop. Was that what you comissioned from that Smith, or was that
something different?" She's at the Thunderbolt table, conversing with Yash;
on the surface in front of her are enough plates to be the remains of a
very, very respectable amount of food. A flicker of motion catches her eye;
she glances towards the entrance and calls, brightly, "Heyla, May. Shells,
but you're brown--brown and red; is the vacation already agreeing with you?"

Telgar Weyr> Maylia warns, this is just a 'cameo' RP appearance :) Gonna
have to scoot, soon.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima belatedly snugsaFlan. :) And awwws. But some Maytime
is better than none!

Telgar Weyr> Maylia says, "DARNIT"

[Editor's Note:  May had to discon there, alas.]

"It was a larger than average belt buckle," Yashira says thoughtfully.
"Bronze, at that. I've only comissioned those knives for the Rimeswing
weyrlings, I think."

Kassima turns back to Yash, puzzled. "But wasn't there something with a
bronze flower...? Or am I completely misremembering? The whole affair with
the Cursed Necklace might've scrambled m'brain. Good show on those knives,
though. Every new rider should have such a thing."

Yashira snaps her finger. "Oh, right. That, too. No, the belt buckle was
just something I picked up at a little Gather."

Yashira nods at the mention of the knives, too. "I thought so," she says
gruffly.

Kassima gives a satisfied nod. "I must nay have been with you for that,
since I don't remember; I'm sure U'yn appreciated it, though. Belt buckles
are handy things." Thank you, Lady Obvious. "I half-wish there might be
another Gather soon... somewhere close enough I could get to it, ideally.
It's been awhile since I last got t'poke amongst the tent wares. D'you
know, I still haven't given Elauren m'present t'her? There just hasn't been
a good time."

Yashira nods. "Maybe that's a tradition with you, too. Didn't you have a
time getting my present to me?"

"I did," Kassima agrees with another bob of her head, "but for different
reasons. Yours didn't get t'me for awhile, with K'ti still working on it;
this I've had in m'satchel ready t'give, but I don't see much of Elauren.
Nay t'be helped, I suspect, with her in Skyfire and busy learning her new
Wing's routine."

Yashira shakes her head. "Probably not, I suppose. Maybe she'll settle in
soon enough."

Kassima rubs at the back of her neck a moment. "Likely so. I hope so. Nay
that 'tis so big a thing, but I don't want her t'think I've forgotten her.
By the by, are you enjoying or at least reasonably all right with being
back in a Wing yourself, for the moment? I'd been meaning t'be asking."

Yashira's head bobs. "Yup. It's good to be back, actually."

"Because of the fighting," Kassi wants to know, "or because you don't have
t'deal with any constipated baby dragons? Or for some other reason? Mind
you, either of those sounds valid enough t'me."

Yashira laughs a little. "Either of those reasons works. I missed it
sometimes, being part of a fighting wing. Weyrling wings change, and
there's constant worrying..."

Kassima's expression reassembles into something somewhat wry. "There's
worrying in a fighting Wing too, I can assure, at least for the ones
leading it. But I don't imagine 'tis quite the same. I can at least
generally count on all of you t'know what you're doing... d'you think you'd
want t'do it again, the working with Weyrlings?"

Yashira rubs her cheek. "I don't know. I think so - it's good to train them
and all. Maybe it'll be less... whatever it was, with I'sai as
Weyrlingmaster and me back to being an Assistant."

Kassima's nod to this is thoughtful. "I might have liked t'try that, once;
I'm nay sure 'twould now. I'm pretty set in Wingleader mode. Methinks
you're right, though, that it might be; Assistants burn out on the job less
than Weyrlingmasters do, in m'experience. They may or may not ever do it
more than once, but there isn't that... I don't know, that darkness, I
guess? Mayhaps you know what I mean better than I do."

Yashira nods a little. "I don't know - I wasn't an assistant long enough. I
think I would've still felt it, though." She begins to look and sound weary.

Kassima inclines her head: acknowledgment. "Mayhaps 'tis so. I doubt those
of us who haven't done it can really say what 'tis like." There's a pause.
"Y'know, Yash, mayhaps we should change the subject. I'm thinking this one
may have been a bad choice; you look... well, a bit as if'n you're in need
of a few Turns' sleep."

Yashira rubs her back. "I'm fine," she grumbles. "You know it, too. You
lose people from your Wing."

"I do," Kassi agrees in a voice that's a touch quieter, more sober. "And I
know the darkness, aye. I take the deaths hard--who wouldn't? Who could do
else? But I don't think I sound so tired when I talk about it." Pause. It's
a thoughtful pause. "Nay anymore, at least, nay publically. The first death
I had, I guess I probably did. Being Wingsecond wasn't really adequate
preparation for that aspect of Wingleading."

Yashira nods slowly. "I'm tough. I won't... it won't be like this so long.
I'll just get tougher."

Kassima, too, nods, but hers is sympathetic, and the eyes that watch the
brownrider hold the shadow of concern. "I'm agreeing that 'twill nay be
like this so long. It sounds ruddy stupid, but time and experience lessen
the ache if'n naught else. I don't know if'n being tougher's what you need,
though, at least nay in the sense that the deaths shouldn't affect you."
She pauses again, toying with her fork as she picks and chooses through
possible words. "'Tisn't that there's aught *wrong* with feeling the way
you do about deaths--in a sense, y'know, I'd say 'tis a good thing; nay a
good thing for you t'have t'endure, but it signifies you hold their lives
at a value, y'know? What concerns me is more how lingering the feeling's
being. You can't be as much help to the living if'n you can't stop thinking
about the dead. Never mind that it has t'be hurting *you*."

Yashira shakes her head. "I'll still care about what happens to them. I
just won't let it linger, that's all. That's it. It's not hurting me," she
insists.

It's Kassi's turn to nod slowly. She does not, perhaps, look entirely
convinced, but she lets that lie for the moment. "'Tis all right t'keep
*remembering* 'em, a'course. I don't think anyone in such a position should
*forget*. But you have to... well, never mind, you didn't come down here
wanting t'be ruddy lectured. I do think though that working with a new crop
might be good for you. And mayhaps talking with Is or Ursa about it
sometime, if'n you haven't? Or Maylia? They've all certes been through
classes with deaths; they have t'know what it's like too."

Yashira pokes a finger into her ear and pushes it around. Waxy goodness,
yeah. "Maybe," she grunts. "Don't really like talking about that stuff."

Kassima elects to avert her eyes from this, and in fact to get up from her
chair entirely, the better to refresh her cider from the pitcher. "Aye,
'tis only a suggestion. Methinks sometimes talking about it can do good,
but it probably isn't so for everyone; I hope 'twill think about it if'n it
does start t'hurt you, though. As 'tisn't now." Her voice is just
*slightly* deadpan; it's just a touch, so faint that it might be missed.
"Should we be changing the topic, then? There are surely other things t'be
discussing."

"Right. Like baby," Yashira says. "Who's the father?" Blunt as ever, our Yash.

Oh, yes. Little wonder Kassi's expression is decidedly amused as she
settles back into her chair, steaming mug in hand. "Figured you'd ask
eventually. D'you have any guesses, for the purpose of m'personal
entertainment?"

Yashira's forehead scrunches. "Not really. L'nan? I'sai?"

Kassima's left brow goes up in mixed further amusement and surprise. "The
first is an obvious enough guess," she allows, "but the second's
interesting. You should've waited 'til Is was here t'be suggesting that, so
we could see how far he'd spit klah across the Cavern. As it happens,
though, nay t'both. Have you ever spent much time at Southern Weyr?"

Yashira shakes her head. "Not really. Been to Monaco twice, maybe, and
Honshu once, but not Southern. It's freakishly hot down there, you know."
Born and raised at Telgar Weyr.

"I've never been either, but that's about what I'd gathered. Probably nay
that much worse than Igen heat-wise, but there has t'be a sharding lot of
humidity, and *that's* the one thing about warm weather I haven't missed a
whit." Kassi curls her fingers around the sides of her mug. "You likely
haven't met him, then. 'Tis O'wyn, bronze Baeth's of Southern."

Kichevio walks in from the bowl.

Yashira scratches the side of her head. "Oh, right... Weyrsecond? That O'wyn?"

Kichevio the Snowperson comes inside, decidedly _not_ a jolly happy soul.
Perhaps it's the snowball currently melting down her back. She waves to
Kassima and Yashira as she goes to get her klah, not wanting to either
interrupt them, or talk until her throat's thawed out.

Kassima dips her chin in an affirmative nod. "Aye, got it in one--a recent
promotion, methinks. Have you met him, then? Or d'you just know the name
for the rank?" She's seated at the head of Thunderbolt's table, as per
usual, hands wrapped around a steaming mug and with plenty of empty plates
in front of her. One hand is freed to give the Abominable SnowKich a wave
that's not at *all* amused by that snowball. Really.

Yashira is perched on the edge of the hearth, a place that's been a
frequent perch for her for, well, ever. "Haven't met him; just learned the
name. I try to keep current, or else M'silne will laugh at me."

Kichevio looks like she's considering fighting Yashira for that prime
hearth space, but instead opts for the seat at the Starblaze table nearest
to the heat source. The survival instinct wins out. "O'wyn from Southern?"
she asks, irritably brushing some slush from her collar. "Is he
blizzard-stranded up here or something?"

"Does M'silne make a *practice* of this laughing?" Kassi simply has to
inquire, openly intrigued. "Does he give you quizzes on who leads what
where, and if'n you don't get all the names perfectly, he throws up on your
shoes? Something of that nature?" Well, now, there's a concept M'silne
would likely appreciate. Looking towards Kich with amusement and
sheepishness both, she settles for shaking her head and saying, "Naught
like that, nay. Methinks he got home all right. So who threw the snow, or
shouldn't I ask?"

Yashira nods a greeting to Kichevio, then laughs a little at Kassima. "Naw.
See, the first time we met, Ursa asked him the names of the weyrleaders
at... Reaches, maybe? He didn't know. I did, so I said them - can't recall
if she asked me to or not. Anyway, he said that he'd felt really stupid
that day."

"A soon-to-be-buried-in-an-icefloe weyrling," Kichevio answers Kassima,
sounding truly Abominable. Any minute now, she'll start hating holidays and
roaring. "I think Mirrath brooded a little too much over her most recent
clutch. This lot have been learning all kinds of bad habits. Like attacking
innocent Weyrseconds." Because she never provokes them in any way. She
tilts her head to listen to Yashira, smiling. "Pop quizzes. Yay."

Yashira snickers in Kichevio's direction. "Innocent?"

Kassima shakes her head in commingled amusement and bemusement. "Odd thing
for Ursa t'randomly ask, it seems. Though 'tis a good thing t'know the
names of all the Weyrleaders. I admit I've never been quite as good at
keeping track of Weyrseconds, if'n I haven't personally met 'em." An amused
snort ensues. "Might want t'talk with Is a'fore you bury one of his
Weyrlings alive, though he just may nay mind, if'n this one makes a
practice of throwing snow."

Kichevio looks put-upon, and rather soggy in the bargain. "I was innocent
in this instance," she defends against Yashira. "Just walking across the
Bowl when the snowball unerringly hit my neck and started melting
downwards. One of this class is originally from near the Snowy Wastes, and
two more were born and raised around here. I have suspects, and once I've
found the culprit--" She grins, not nicely. Possibly there are fangs
involved. "Oh, Is will have no reason to be annoyed. The ice-floes on the
lake melt out by mid-spring."

"Ah, but wouldn't it more likely be someone who's nay used t'snow that
might do such a thing? Since they'd be most likely t'be enchanted by its
joys," Kassi theorizes, grinning, "and thus prone t'throw snowballs hither
and yon. Mind you, the aim's harder to explain that way. What, what, so
you're suggesting you'd only freeze the Weyrling for a *little* while?"

"You could wait," Yashira says, rising from her seat and taking her bowl
with her. "And go to the snow fields in early spring, when the snow here is
gone. And then you can fill a bag with snowballs and let them rain down on
the weyrlings."

Kichevio's eyes positively light up. "Now _that_ sounds like a plan. Death
From Above, as Tarlo would say. At least as much fun as a rope drill. Do
you think I'sai might allow it as a training exercise?" She grins at
Kassima. "Well, if meat stays fresh in the cold rooms, surely a weyrling
could be properly preserved for a month or so in an ice-floe or snowdrift.
Just a thought. But raining down snowballs from above sounds even better."

Zaidra walks here from the Inner Cavern.

Zaidra pads in from the inner caverns, her boots carried in one hand.
Those, and her still-damp and therefore excessively-curly hair, make it a
safe bet that she's just finished bathing. So does the muttering she's
doing under her breath. "Silly hedonistic brown. Hot water, hot water...as
if no one else has any plans." She's completely unaware of anything else
going on in the room.

"'Tis worth the suggesting," Kassi muses, eyes lighting up far too much for
any sane Weyrling's peace of mind. "We tried snowball fights as an exercise
once, in Thunderbolt, some time ago, and if'n naught else 'twas
*interesting*... but methinks a Weyrling would need t'be fed, and
t'breathe, unlike meat. So there might be something wrong with the theory
there." Glancing towards the Inner Caverns, she lifts one hand in a wave to
Zaidra. "What plans was he ruining, then?" she calls. "Or shouldn't I be
asking?"

Yashira takes her bowl to the kitchen, then returns, just in time to nod a
hello and goodbye to Zaidra. "Weyrsecond," she greets, smiling faintly.
"See you all later. I have a dragon complaining about how much he itches.
Again."

"Do they ever stop that particular complaint?" Kassi wonders, though she's
more grinning than plaintive. "At least when they think they might talk you
into an oiling? G'night, though, Yash; m'regards as ever t'Decarath."

Kichevio lifts her mug to Yashira. "Have fun. Maybe you can talk him out of
it. Or fetch some of those spiny plants from Igen to scratch him with.
Evening, Zai."

Zaidra waves her boot-free hand to Yashira, "Trade you dealing with itchy
hide for turning into a prune?" she offers gamely. The footwear is dropped
into an empty chair, and, still barefoot, Zai fetches herself klah. "Oh, I
was supposed to join J'an and some old friends from Fort, but his brownness
decided - for once - that he'd had enough of Outside, and wanted to be
warm, and wet, and surrounded by steam. And he made me scrub his
hide...twice. 'Because you haven't in /so/ long, Zai.' Do I need to tell
you it's been less than a full sevenday?"

Telgar Weyr> Kena cheers! Two sevendays off!

Yashira snickers at Zaidra. "Naaah, I get pruney often enough myself." She
waves a little and heads out.

Yashira walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "It's good to be a Thunderbolt rider, honest. ;)"

Telgar Weyr> I'sai laughs.

Telgar Weyr> Kena says, "Poor Mart has to work. What kind of mischief can I
get into now? Hmmm? 0:)"

Telgar Weyr> Kichevio sighs wistfully for her good old Thunderbolt days.

Kassima has just enough mercy to duck her head as the snickers overtake
her, so as not to show them openly. Her shoulders do shake, though. "Poor,
neglected Ymedath. Did J'an take the news of your inability t'meet him
well?" she wonders. "And, Faranth, the thought of how temperamental a
scratched-up Decarath would be is one t'give me nightmares. Or one t'give
Yash nightmares, more like."

Kichevio nods in sympathy with Zaidra. "And then he gives you that sweet
and pitiful look that really shouldn't work for a large dragon, but does
anyway. Saulith's gotten frighteningly good at those. She must take lessons
from someone. Surely J'an understands, though. Eneryth's probably done the
same to him on occasion."

Telgar Weyr> Kena says, "Once a Tbolt, always a Tbolt, right Kassi?"

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "But of course! Surely you didn't think you
could ever really *escape*, Kich? ;)"

Telgar Weyr> Kichevio is torn between happiness and slowly mounting horror...

Zaidra shrugs, settling into the chair next to where her boots are. "Oh, he
understood. I think that Chloraseptic, or Chlorine - whatever her name is -
will be ample distraction, though." And, in proof she's really grown up,
she doesn't mind this a bit. "Would've been more fun to be there and make
him all flustered having both of us leering, though."

"Cloretta? That sharding fool rider who was at Boll with her green
glowing?" Kassima hazards, making something of a face. She does amend
afterwards though, "Nay that I know aught about her beyond that she did go
t'Boll proddy. So I may be hasty in calling her a sharding fool, that
evidence to the contrary. You can *leer*, Zai?" She sounds, yes, amazed.
"D'you know, somehow I never pictured you as the leering type? Someday I
want t'see a demonstration of this. Just so I can marvel. Also, I'd like
t'note I'm glad that Her Imperiousness isn't the sweet and pitiful type.
Nay that poking me until I relent is *so* much better, but at least that
way she has t'be working for it."

Kichevio doesn't _quite_ laugh, but now there are suspicious bubbles in her
klah. "Now I'm going to call her Chlorine the next time I go to Fort, Zai,"
she accuses. "If inter-Weyr relations break down, you're the cause. Lysseth
pokes? Saulith's pretty basic, too--she lies across the weyr entrance and
won't let me out until I've agreed to what she wants."

"I really can," Zai asserts, though she doesn't demonstrate. "Yes,
Cloretta. Actually, she's not that bad. Really. And she was barely out of
weyrlinghood, that time." Kichevio's statement gets a groan. "No, please?
I'll leave you her name on a scrap of hide, if it'll help? She already
thinks I'm insane."

Telgar Weyr> Kena is just struck with terror herself. Mart and I have been
weyrmated for almost 26 turns! Oh, my wasted youth...

Telgar Weyr> Kassima laughs! And says not a thing about the wasted part.
Nope, nope. Mart would pop online just to strangle me. ;)

Kassima mutters, tipping her mug back to take a swallow of cider, "Just out
of Weyrlinghood or nay, that was an idiot move. But everyone has the right
t'make a few idiot moves in their lives, so... aye, Kich, she mostly pokes.
Pokes, grumbles, snarks, makes snide comments, pesters, harasses, is
generally obnoxious. But sweet, innocent looks? Rare. Only if'n she's in a
*very* good mood and actually feeling playful." There's a disgruntled sort
of rumble from outside, barely audible. Kassi ignores it. "If'n anyone
*does* call her Chlorine, can you tell me about her reaction later, just
for morbid curiosity's sake?"

"I'll report it faithfully," Kichevio promises, "and with luck, from a safe
vantage-point. I imagine she'd react the same way to 'Chlorine' as I'd
react if someone called me 'Kichie-kichie-coo'." She pauses. "Oh Faranth.
Shouldn't have said that."

Zaidra sips her klah, admitting. "I called her that once. In public. Called
Cloretta Chlorine, I mean. Not Kich - /that/." She looks a bit sheepish.

"I don't think," Kassima decides, completely and totally deadpan, "that I
*want* t'know how you'd react t'being called Kichie-Kichie-coo. Nay
offense, Kich, but you *are* female, and that's just nay m'sort of thing."
Zaidra gets some wide eyes cast her way. "Did you? What did she say? Is
that why she thinks you're insane?"

Kichevio narrows her eyes at Kassi. "It's not a pretty sight," she deadpans
right back. "Ask V'dan why he was even more stuttery and nervous than usual
last month." There's food for thought. "Do tell, Zai. Was it on purpose, or
an accident, or one of those subconscious slips of the tongue?"

Zaidra blushes faintly. "Maybe both. Tarlo gave me a huge lecture for it,
after. It was /here/ at least, so her own friends didn't hear, but I was
reminded that it wasn't a very nice way to treat a guest. And we have
managed to become friends, since."

Kassima's eyes widen. A lot. "Wow," she murmurs, blinking twice. "You and
*V'dan*... Simaeva isn't going t'like *that* much, I'll tell you for
naught. I thought 'twere being exclusive right now." Shaking her head a
bit, she mentions, "For what 'tis worth, if'n 'twas an accident, I don't
think you rated a lecture so long as you apologized. But then, this is me.
I've tried t'strangle out-Weyr riders when Lyss is glowing, so a mis-naming
doesn't exactly seem the height of rudeness, if'n nay the height of
politesse either."

Kichevio must correct, for V'dan's sake if nothing else. "I would not
_dream_ of getting between V'dan and Simaeva, my life is complicated enough
at the moment. We were talking--and having a couple of drinks--I made a pun
on his name, and he had the misfortune to make that particular pun on mine.
I think I scared him sober." With that cleared up, she can be Zaidra's
supportive person. "Your tactics in the art of diplomacy are to be admired."

Zaidra blinks, confused. "Diplomacy? Me? Self-preservation, more like. J'an
looked so pathetic when he saw me get yelled at, and Cloretta honestly
hadn't done anything. Then." She shrugs. "Anyway, isn't there something
about knowing one's enemy or some such?"

"Oh, good. That should save him being garrotted with a gitar string," Kassi
says, surprise fading into vast amusement. "Nay that sometimes you couldn't
get between 'em, they're so on-again off-again. And y'know how he is when
he's *proddy*. Throws flowers at nigh any woman he sees, it seems sometimes
t'me... I'll have t'be teasing him about this when I see him next. I
currently owe him one." There's an amused sound for 'self-preservation,'
but her expression's not without sympathy. "Better t'know your enemies than
have 'em surprise you, certes. Anyway, I hope J'an doesn't let her flutter
her eyelashes at him too much. He'd be a sharding fool t'prefer her, and
that's m'admittedly friendship-biased opinion."

Kichevio stands, seconding Kassima cheerily. "And mine as well. Silly of
him to insist on not seeing what's in front of his nose." She glances
outside, squinting to see if maybe (please?) the snow has stopped. "Work
and then bed are calling, please excuse me. I'll see you tomorrow, Zai--and
you too, Kassi. Enjoy your two sevendays off while the rest of us are
drilling, mmm?"

Zaidra laughs, "Oh, it's all long past, but I still forget her name at
times. Thanks for your /completely/ unbiased opinions, though. And, g'night
Kich. Maybe it'll keep snowing, and we'll get a late call?"

Kassima's smile isn't quite smug, but it does have the contentment of a cat
who's currently drowning in cream. "I quite intend to, as much as being
bound here allows," she agrees. "G'night, Kich; regards t'Saulith... late
call, Zai?"

"Faranth willing!" Kichevio says fervently to Zaidra, and hurries out.

Kichevio walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Zaidra mms, "Late call. Nice thing about being part of Starblaze is that if
the weather's inclement, we do /afternoon/ drills. And use the mornings for
Very Important Meetings, and such."

"Oh, I see. Thunderbolt does its drills at varying times of day," Kassi
admits, tipping her cider mug to peer at its contents. "If'n the weather's
too inclement, at least if'n 'tis snow, we either cancel or--more oft--go
somewhere else to do them. I figure, we're never going t'fight Fall in
snow, so what's the point of risking chills or accidents by learning how?"

Zaidra shakes her head, "Tomorrow's drill was for Search and Rescue, and
somehow, K'ran never lets us schedule such things for places like, oh, say,
Shipfish. Speaking of which, I hadn't realized you'd been leading
Thunderbolt for a full twenty turns. We should all be so lucky."

Kassima has to grin at that. "Spoilsport Weyrleader--though I have t'say,
we've occasionally done light t'moderate drills over, say, Ista, in winter.
The air patterns are tricky enough and different enough from the usual
t'keep us on our toes. I don't think we've ever hit Shipfish though,
granted." Tilting her head to one side, she points out, wry but
good-humored, "I don't think most would say you're unlucky nay t'have lead
a Wing so long, hmm? Given the direction you went in. But aye, it's been...
an experience. Nay one I regret, mind."

Zaidra makes an expression that probably means assent. "I suppose
Wingleader for Weyrsecond's a good trade." Typical understatement. "And you
know I'll do everything I can to be good in the job. Keeping up with Kich
isn't easy, though."

"I suppose so," Kassi drolly assents. "Or at least most would say 'tis.
Methinks you'll do fine at it. You've always had a good relationship with
K'ran, 'tis nay so?"

"Yes, that's true," Zai confirms. "Off duty, he's like the older brother I
never had. And otherwise, well, you, he, Tarlo, I'sai - you're all my
mentors as well as friends."

Kassima flicks a faint smile at that; faint, but real. "I do appreciate
that, Zai--always have. I still have that wee knife y'gave me. I'd hazard
t'say you've proven that you don't need a mentor anymore, mind you, but
if'n you still want t'lay the title then I'll selfishly nay argue it and
just sit over here and be pleased."

Zaidra suggests, a little shyly. "Well, if it matters, you're not so much a
professional mentor, these days, as someone I feel comfortable asking
personal advice of?"

Kassima does look a bit wry for the first, but her smile widens and warms
at the second. "I don't know how good an advisor I am on personal matters,
I confess--depends on the matter, hey?--but I'm glad of that, Zai. And for
what 'tis worth, so long as you feel comfortable asking, I'll be pleased
t'answer and help if'n I can. I know that *sounds* trite, but I mean it
sincerely."

Zaidra laughs lightly. "Thank you for that. And congratulations on
your...anniversary? Is that the right word? Are we supposed to welcome you
back from vacation with streamers and a cake in the shape of a green
dragon, in two sevendays?"

"Thankee--'tis the word I'm using for it, so I hope 'tis the right one.
Twenty Turns. Sometimes it feels like a lifetime; sometimes it still feels
like 'twas P'tran's wet-behind-the-ears Wingsecond just yestereve." Kassi
shakes her head in silent marvelling, then flashes a rueful grin. "Ah,
now--as t'that, I'm afraid I won't be going anywhere. I can't. I hope the
rest of the Wingriders will, though; I want 'em t'take advantage of the
break, have a good time, get some relaxation in. I certes appreciate the
thought, though." Pause. "So long as nay more strippers were involved in
this thought."

"I can honestly swear that I have no knowledge of any plans for strippers,"
Zai assures. "But...why can't you leave? Or should I not be asking that?"

Kassima exhales a long sigh of relief. "Thank *Faranth*. That was comical
and entertaining once, but if'n it happened again? I'd likely blush so red
m'head would explode, and then I couldn't try t'hang on for another ten
Turns so I can inflict *three* sevendays' vacation on m'Wingriders next
time." Amusement settles itself onto Kassi's features, albeit sheepish
amusement. "You can ask; I couldn't really keep it secret if'n I wanted to
for much longer, though I've nay taken t'proclaiming it to the four corners
of Pern yet. The Healers have grounded me. Craftsecond Sauscony t'be
specific, thank Faranth; better her than Ushu."

Zaidra's eyes widen. "Grounded? Healers? That means what I think it means,
doesn't it?" She doesn't offer congratulations yet. "You're happy about it,
right?" she checks.

"Actually, it means they're finally getting their vengeance for all those
jars of mint sticks I stole by convincing the Weyrleaders I have some sort
of dread, scandalous Istan disease." Kassi can't keep the deadpan
expression going very long, though. "Aye, it means what you think it means,
if'n you think it means what methinks you think it means. And I couldn't,"
she confirms with a sudden, dazzlingly bright smile, "be more thrilled
about it if'n you paid me--and Faranth knows I'll do nigh aught if'n you 
pay me."

Zaidra laughs, relieved. "Congratulations then. How exciting." She pauses
then, and shakes her head, then slips still-bare feet into her boots. "Yme
says he's 'ready' for sleep now. Moody beast"

Kassima's smile broadens, if anything, though how it does so when it was so
bright before is a trick. "Thankee for that. I certes think so; and I
appreciate 'congratulations' rather than 'oh, Faranth, so should I flee to
the Red Star now?' which is more what I usually hear." She's being at least
a *little* facetious there. "Best you run, then, aye--m'regards t'him, hmm?"

Zaidra nods, "And mine to Lysseth, always." And she moves back toward the
corridor leading to the baths, no doubt to collect her well-steamed brown.

Zaidra walks towards the inner cavern.