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

A Coronary:  The Perfect Turnday Gift


Date:  February 25, 1999
Place:  Telgar Weyr's Records Room
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:  Wowza.  Again and again, the people of Telgar remind me
of what wonderful jewels they are. :)  The setting:  it's Kassi's 
thirtieth Turnday, and our heroine has not been seen much outside of
drills since the death of Kharisma's father, Jh'rin.  When she finally
emerges from her weyr, it's with the assumption that Mart is calling 
her down to the Records Room to discuss Wingleader matters.  However,
that isn't what she finds....  Many, many, many snugs and thanks go to
everyone who attended, and snugs and thanks are also due to those who
sent their regrets; the most snugs go, of course, to Mart for plotting
out this whole thing.  Of course, said snugs are probably 
counterbalanced by the fact that his gift slates him for swift 
death. ;)

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The Log:

You walk into the records cavern, leaving the bowl behind.

M'rgan jumps out from behind a chair. "Surprise!!!"

Th'lon stands up from his hiding position and shouts, "SURPRISE!" 
remembering to salute the wingleader too for course.

Meli yells "Surprise!!!

Kena follows her weyrmate. "Surprise!!"

T'saren leaps out from under a table, waving his arms in the air. 
"Surprise!! Happy Turnday, Kassi!!"

D'thon emerges with a "Surprise!!"

Telgar Weyr> Kassima just blinks. Why, you wonderful nutcases you! :)

Meli pulls a noisemaker out of her pocket, blowing on it with a 'toooot 
toooot'!

Maylia's not far behind the rest, leaping out from under the table. "Happy 
turnday, Kassi!" She calls. Suprise, well - everybody else's said it 
already.

Kena figures for Kassima's turnday she won't salute her Wingleader.

Glowbaskets are opened as shouts of "Surprise!" and "Happy Thirtieth!!" 
ring around the room. Light suddenly flashes across the many faces in 
there.

Blink. Blink. Okay, let's review the situation: a greenrider, one Kassi by 
name, had just walked into the room with an armful of hides, her purpose 
probably to work. And then people leap out of hiding and yell at her. 
"What in Faranth's own name?" she half-yelps, eyes wide as she stares at 
her nutcase friends. "I thought this wa--hey, how did you--what? What?" 
Poleaxed would be a good word to use, here.

  Name           Sex   Position         Status                    Idle  Q
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
* Alyssa         (F)   Wingsecond                                   7s  - 
* Aurian         (F)   Wingsecond       Weyrlings... ugh.           2m    
* D'thon         (M)   Bluerider        Aa! Bakerbabe-sama!         2m    
* Jalen          (M)   J'man Starsmith                              5m  - 
* Kassima        (F)   Wingleader       ListeningToMyBonesCreak.    0s    
* Kena           (F)   Greenrider       Have Green. Will Terroriz   1m    
* Kindre         (F)   Weyrwoman        HappyTurndayKassi!         21s    
* M'rgan         (M)   Wingleader       Kassi's30thTurnday         58s    
* Maylia         (F)   Weyrlingmaster   Wrestle?*squish*            1m    
* Meli           (F)   Wingsecond       D*C Homefield Advantage!    1m    
* Neliea         (F)   Bluerider                                   24s    
* T'saren        (M)   Wingleader       Back in the Saddle Again    2m    
* Th'lon         (M)   Weyrling                                     2m   
------------------------------- ( 13 players ) ---------------------------

Th'lon ducks as T'saren runs by waving his arms around, but smiles at 
Kassima's reaction, "Happy turnday wingleader!"

Meli's grinning fit to split her face wide open, nearly jumping about as 
she watches Kassi's reaction. "Happy happy! Y'officially /old/ now, 
neh?"

M'rgan cheers as he flashes a victory sign in the air. "We've made her 
speechless. Good work, everyone."

T'saren chuckles at his fellow wingleader's expression, dusting his knees 
off from where he was kneeling moments before. M'rgan's comment gets 
another chuckle. "Aye, I'd say we did. Good thing she's not ten turns 
older or we might have sent her between." He winks teasingly at the 
surprised greenrider, ducking away from any blows she might try to 
land.

Additional congratulations are echoed around the room, as a few folks move 
to reveal the refreshments table and a small pile of what might be gifts. 
Or might be booby traps. Never can tell when dealing with Kassima.

Kena pulls the box off the tray off refreshments and dragoncookies iced 
green.

Kassima manages to recover her aplomb enough to remark, drolly, "Surely 
that's nay the hardest thing on Pern t'be doing... dear shards and shells 
and Thread on a stick, are you people *mad*?" She doesn't look as though 
she minds, though--in fact, some of the old light is glinting in her eyes, 
and she's actually--gasp!--grinning. Miracles do happen. "Whose idea was 
this? And whom do I get to lynch for telling you all how old I am?"

Meli whistles innocently, and shifts slightly further away from Mart.

Kena grins smugly. "Why should I be the only one to suffer the age of 30 
turns alone?"

A couple of the lower cavern girls wander in smiling at Kassima, the each 
have a couple of wineskins in each arm which they deposit on a nearby 
table and walk out, murmuring a quick, "Happy turnday." to the 
greenrider.

D'thon wears a slightly crooked grin, wandering generally in the opposite 
direction from M'rgan.

M'rgan casually crosses his arms in front of him as he watches Kassima, 
arching one eyebrow at her surprisingly long spell of quietness. "Everyone 
knows when your turnday is Kassima," he mentions while giving Meli and 
D'thon warning looks. Hey, don't abandon me to her.

D'ton strides in from the bowl.

Th'lon is happily on the other side of the room from the brownrider as he 
chuckles watching the scene unfold.

A young bluerider drops her present off in the pile before stealing over 
to the refreshment table and snicking a cookie.

Kassima's eyes widen further at the sight of refreshments and gifts, 
genuine delight evident at the dragon-cookies, a favored treat of hers. 
"Thankee... jays, 'thankee' isn't enough t'be saying. I'm speechless." 
Well, sort of. "*You* told them, didn't you, brownrider?" she accuses 
Mart, glancing at those around her for confirmation. Ooh, does she get to 
cause death for a present? Does she, does she, does she, huh?

Maylia eases away from M'rgan, adding her, "Sure, everybody knows," to the 
rest. Right. She's just backing away to fetch herself something to drink, 
honest. "Wine, Kassi?"

Meli laughs, eyes bright. "Kassi, s'not exactly a secret, your Turnday 
tha' is. 'Sides, all anyone would have t'do is ask one o'your many... 
/many/ relatives."

T'saren grins at Kassi, finally lowering his arms and leaning against the 
same table he sprang from beneath. At least he's not afraid of whatever 
the turnday girl might dish out in paybacks for the surprise party.

D'thon gazes off into the distance as innocently as possible, carefully 
depositing a package in the pile, and nods abstractly in support of Meli's 
statement.

D'ton hurries in with a muttered, "I'm late, aren't I," to Maylia. He puts 
a package on the pile surreptiously while attempting to look as innocent 
about it as D'thon.

"Why don't you open your presents, Kassi," M'rgan quickly says as suddenly 
the smell of carrion seems to surround him. "It doesn't matter who told 
after all. We're here to enjoy your turnday...old lady."

M'rgan slips over to join his weyrmate. She's a greenrider. She'll protect 
him.

Th'lon slips around to the refreshment table, snatching up a couple of 
the green iced dragon cookies, "Mmmm." he mumbles, biting into one, "I 
guess green isn't too bad after all." he says, winking in Kassima's 
direction.

Kassima makes a face at Meli, though only for a moment, since she's really 
having a terrible time resisting the urge to beam like an idiot. "Okay, so 
you all know I'm now old enough t'be in danger of keeling over dead any 
day now," she relents, holding up her hands as though in a gesture of 
truce: no death. "But I *will* get someone for this, later. Have I 
mentioned t'you how wonderful you all are? Should I drop to m'knees and 
serenade you, or would you kill me then? Oh, *could* I?" That to the offer 
of wine--the former lush doesn't drink much these days, after all.

Kena may be M'rgan's devoted weyrmate, but she's more than willing to 
sacrifice him to a sister greenrider. "Yes. The presents."

Meli nods at this bit of Mart's wisdom, pausing to fill a few mugs with 
some Benden red from one of the skins and then handing them about.

"Presents," Kassi echoes, as bad as either of her daughters when *that* 
subject is mentioned. "Presents? All those things are for *me*?"

Maylia quickly fills a glass with wine, "Certainly, Mentor mine," she 
states, handing it over with a flourish. "And of course, presents!"

Meli nods. "A'course, Kassi. 'Less you'd rather we give m'to someone 
else?"

D'thon grins. "If not you, who'd they be for?"

"Pick out a present!" M'rgan adds to the clamor as his eyes search the 
pile for his own cloth-wrapped gift.

Meli pulls her own item from a pocket, it looks suspiciously like a.... 
scroll. How boring.

Kassima favors Meli with the mock Evil Eye. "Don't even think about it, 
greenrider wench. Shells, I still can't believe you all...." But sentiment 
doesn't stop her from half-bounding over to the table of presents, all 
over enthusiasm. "Whose should I open first?" she calls to the crowd en 
masse, bouncing a bit in place. Really. Is the woman thirty, or is she 
three?

T'saren's eyes flicker across his own gift and away quickly. Keeping 
quiet, he just waits for Kassi to open the pile of gifts.

Kena keeps looking at one flat package that is wrapped in well worn hide 
and tied with green ribbon.

D'ton slips out quietly, having delivered his package.

D'ton slips out of the records cavern.

D'thon mildly glances away from his own package.

Th'lon peers over the shoulders of everyone so he can get a good look-see 
at the present opening.

Since almost everyone seems to be looking *away* from their gifts, oddly, 
it isn't hard for Kassi to pick out one whose giver is actually willing to 
make eye contact with it. "Green ribbon is a good sign," the greenrider 
decides. Not that she's biased or anything. "Kena, is this one from 
you?"

M'rgan glances around at all of the faces. "Maybe we should give our 
presents in order of age. Oldest first." He can't help but look at his 
weyrmate now. "I'm twenty-seven."

Ofira strides in from the bowl.

Ofira peers in and waves.

Meli snorts lightly at Mart's suggestion, then waves Ofira in to the 
festivities as she arrives.

Kena's gaze certainly could shrivel a certain part of

Telgar Weyr> T'saren chokes. Nice one, Kena! ;)

Telgar Weyr> Meli bol at Kena's pose.

Kena's gaze certainly could shrivel a certain part of M'rgan's anatomy 
that he won't be needing tonight after that remark.

Telgar Weyr> Maylia sighs, and snugsa Kassi :) Sorry to dash off, but I 
gotta sccot!

Telgar Weyr> Meli says, "It was just as funny incomplete. ;)"

Ofira smiles, "I'm sorry I'm late!" she calls, "I wanted to wish you happy 
turnday Kassima."

Telgar Weyr> Kena says, "Oh wells :)"

Telgar Weyr> D'thon nearly strangles laughing. :)

Kailia strides in from the bowl.

Kassima amends, "Or that'd work." She makes a good-natured face again. 
"A'course, I'm probably nigh the oldest in the room anyway. Ofira, heya!"

Th'lon looks around at the other folks gathered about, "Darn, Guess that 
puts me last." He waves to Ofira as the Master Baker enters.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Kena, you must teach me that look of 
yours. ;)"

Meli sighs as this 'oldest first' thing seems to catch on. "Anyone in here 
older'n me?"

Telgar Weyr> Kena says, "You need a weyrmate to perfect it. Particularly a 
clueless one :) *snug-a-Lys*"

Kailia steps in, smiling around at the group.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima drats. I'll just have to keep my knives sharp, 
then. ;)

T'saren shakes his head in answer to Meli. "Twenty-six here," he admits, 
shifting position slightly.

Ofira laughs, "I think I am Meli. I'm 33 now." She makes her way over to 
Kassima, "I have a gift for you, but I'm afraid it's nothing edible this 
time."

D'thon shrugs. "Twenty-six," he echoes.

Meli shakes her head at Ofira. "Got y'beat, but you can go first if 
y'like."

M'rgan is surprisingly able to withstand that shrivelling look of his 
weyrmate. Either he's totally clueless about what it means or he's seen it 
often enough that a) it doesn't matter or b) it's already shrivelled to 
nothing. "See, Kena. You're not the oldest one here. I told you."

Kena sees Ofira is brave and announces that she is thirty turns, adding in 
a low murmur that that is an age M'rgan's unlikely to attain.

Telgar Weyr> Th'lon rolls! Good one Mart :)

Meli, being 35 if she's a day, waits a bit to see if anyone else is brave 
enough to announce their age before she's announced 'most decrepid.'

Ofira pauses, "Oh, were you giving the gifts in age order?" she asks, 
"I'll take my turn then," she smiles. "No need to age myself more than 
necessary, " she laughs.

Kassima beams at both Meli and Ofira. And Kena, for that matter. "Ah, 
people near to m'own age. We must get together sometime to do something 
evil to these younguns who've taken over the place. Meli, I hate t'say it, 
but methinks you may be the eldest... if'n one of the youngest at heart, 
Madame Terpsichory. Whatever that means. I still don't know. Which reminds 
me...." Raising her voice, she yells, "Hey, Mart, I nigh forgot to ask! 
What the shards does 'geronimo' mean, anyway?"

Kailia looks down at the wrapped package in her hands and waits until 
there is a chance to give Kassima her gift.

A young man near the refreshment table notices Kailia's entrance and he 
waves to her with his cookie holding hand. "There's plenty," he 
mouths.

Seeing no one else claim to be as ancient, Meli steps forward. "Ok, Kassi. 
Guess it is me, an' we can get t'the terpsichory part later. Or, wait, 
maybe Mart c'n help me with this an' do that part in th'background." She 
grins, unrolling her scroll and then continuing.

D'thon blinks at Kassi. "I think it's a kind of small sour fruit," he 
offers helpfully. "Relative of the kiwi."

Kailia smiles at the cookie waver and heads over to grab one, selecting a 
small brown crunchy looking one.

Meli says "Kassi, couldn't think o'a thing t'get you tha' you don't 
already have, so I wrote you a ditty instead." Clearing her throat, she 
adds, "I call it 'The Kassi R(h)ap...Sody'"

Kassima's expression could be well summed up as 'Uh-oh.' But nevertheless, 
she grins, folds her arms, and nods to her friend. "Though trepidation 
seizes me by the throat when you mention a song title with m'name in it... 
I look forward t'hearing it regardless."

   Kassi's our lass! 
   She's got such class. 
   She shines like glass. 
   She'll whup your... 
   ...behind 
   Come gambling time.

"I'll tell you what geronimo means if you tell me what terp...terpy....
terpichor means," M'rgan replies back. Meli's words grab his attention 
though and he steps away from his weyrmate to a more open part of the 
floor. He starts making a noise with his mouth. A sort of slappy, drum 
sort of noise but it seems to involve a lot of spittle.

Telgar Weyr> Kena LOL at Meli!

Ofira laughs and applauds at Meli's song.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima *laughs*!!!

Ok, imagine rap noises made by a very silly brownrider, and an equally 
silly greenrider standing with her arms crossed over her chest looking 
tough.

   And as befits 
   A lass with wits, 
   Each man admits 
   She's got great... 
   ...eyes, 
   So deep and wise.

Kailia giggles and nearly spits cookie crunmb all over the crowd.

M'rgan prances up and down the floor behind Meli, waving his arms every 
which way and spittle-singing.

   But if Kassi mauls 
   From proddy thralls, 
   A wise man stalls 
   And minds his... 
   ...toes 
   While Lysseth glows.

Kena can only laugh helplessly at Meli's lyrics.

T'saren coughs suddenly, trying not to laugh at the song.

D'thon coughs, attempting to avoid choking.

   So join our tune 
   And help us croon 
   From night til noon, 
   Our favorite... 
   ...lass! 
   Who has such class. 

(Repeat!!)

Ofira glances at Kena curiously, and then back at Kena's weyrmate, and 
shakes her head slightly, before laughing appreciatively at the 
lyrics.

Kassima manages, somehow, not to choke, faint, or die on the spot, but she 
*does* start to shake and turn blue with the effort to keep from 
laughing.

Meli threatens to continue the song indefinitely, as the last verse segues 
back into the first, but she trails off as she herself starts laughing.

M'rgan flares his arms out diagonally from his body and strikes a pose as 
the song ends. "Woo, Meli!!"

Kena claps appreciatively, tears emerging from her emerald eyes.

Meli, a beat late, imitates Mart's pose, then offers the scroll to Kassi.

Th'lon drops down to one knee, laughing loud enough to be heard on the 
other side of the bowl. Wiping tears from his eyes (or is that M'rgan's 
spit) he stands up and applauds.

Meli sets down a scroll.

T'saren snickers beneath a hand, rolling his eyes at Meli and M'rgan. "I 
don't think I want to know where you came up with that, Meli," he comment, 
shaking his head.

Kassima finally gives up the effort and falls back on her behind with a 
thump, the better to laugh hysterically at the would-be rap masters. 
"Meli!!!" she hoots. "I don't know whether t'be thanking you or throttling 
you!" Since she does take the scroll, though, after she's calmed down 
enough to manage, one would guess that death isn't imminent. "Oh, 
*Faranth*. Remind me t'write a song about *you* come your next Turnday, 
old friend."

"Turns an' turns o'experience, Tas," Meli replies, when she's able. To 
Kassi, she just grins. "Happiest o'days, friend."

D'thon does let a chuckle escape his lips, applauding the lyricism (and 
gall, of course) of the writers.

Telgar Weyr> M'rgan points to Meli. That sucker was all hers.

Telgar Weyr> Meli was very busy at the online rhyming dictionary today. ;b

Telgar Weyr> Kena wouldn't have missed Kassi's party anyway, but Meli's 
song made my day :)

Telgar Weyr> Th'lon dies. /That/ song was a keeper. I'm going to have to 
sing that to the SO :)

Telgar Weyr> D'thon logs it.

Telgar Weyr> Meli just keeps cracking up at the image of us trying to be 
Run DMC or something.

T'saren just snickers again as Meli answers. "Shells, I hope that's one 
thing I *don't* learn when I get your age, Meli," he teases.

Kassima gets up off the floor, finally, dusting off her rump and doing her 
best to compose herself. This last is a total failure. "Ohhhkay. Meli, I 
adore you, I swear. Though I wish there'd been an artist here t'catch you 
and Mart dancing that... dance. If'n you could call it that. Ofira, please 
tell me your present isn't going t'come quite that close t'killing me?"

Telgar Weyr> Kassima thinks she *has* to post this log now. :)

Telgar Weyr> T'saren nodnods. I keep seeing M'rgan as Vanilla Ice for some 
reason. :p ;)

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Tas, thank you for the most horrible mental 
image I've ever had. ;)"

Telgar Weyr> D'thon says, "And all the greenies say I'm pretty fly for a 
brown guy..."

Telgar Weyr> T'saren bows. Gee, that almost sounds better than my real 
turnday present. ;)

M'rgan taps the side of his head as he moves away from the rap master and 
twists his finger around his ear. "It's that greenrider blood," he 
mentions to T'saren as he passes beside the bronzerider.

Telgar Weyr> Kena hees at D'thon :)

Telgar Weyr> Kailia groans...

Ofira catches her breath, in the middle of a laugh. "No, I'm afraid my 
gift is rather mundane, Kassi. But I thought that trader with the beauty 
tent had some rather nice things - I had this basket made up for you."
Ofira sets down the bath basket.


---

This charming oval basket, woven from the tough marsh grasses that grow by 
the seas of Pern, has been lined with a silky, lavender colored cloth and 
filled to the brim with treats for the bathing pool.        
On a cushion of colorful dried flowers rest several cloth bags of lightly 
scented, fine grained soapsand, each tied with a glossy ribbon of a 
different color. One is a fruity scent, one floral and another captures 
the freshness of the day after a cleansing rainstorm. There are three 
small vials of moisturizing lotion, as well, in matching scents. You can 
open the vials to inhale either the "fruity", "floral" or "fresh" scent.        
Nestled between the bags and vials is an ornate glass bottle which holds 
fragrant oil that may be added to the bath for velvety skin or dabbed on 
directly as perfume. Tucked into another corner is a medium sized bath 
brush, its handle carved of a light colored wood to fit comfortably into 
the hand. The smooth closely packed bristles will gently invigorate the 
skin as you "scrub".        
Finally, there is an aromatic candle, the color of early summer berries. 
If you "light" it, its fragrance and soft glow will fill the bathing 
chamber.

---


T'saren raises a brow at M'rgan but nods. "I believe it," he murmurs back, 
then turns his attention back to the gift giving, waiting his turn.

Meli steps out of the way, wiping at the corners of her eyes with the edge 
of her sleeve, then recollecting her wine.

Kena glances back at M'rgan. Yup, he's sleeping with Ularrith for at 
*least* a sevenday.

Kassima has *just* enough self-control to manage not to blanch at the 
mention of the Tent of Horrors, which certain parties may remember her 
cowering from at Igen's Gather. "The beauty tent?" she murmurs, leaning 
forward to see the basket. Pleasant surprise lights her features as she 
makes out the contents. "Oh! Nay scary pink combs or lace ribbons!" she 
can't help but exclaim, with a beam at Ofira. "Thankee, Master. There're 
times when even I appreciate a bit of luxury... just don't give away that 
secret, eh?" With a wink, she adds in a stage-whisper, "I'd never live it 
down."

Meli finishes collecting herself, then leans forward to peer into the 
basket. "Ooh."

Ofira winks back at Kassima, "Your secret is safe with me, YOu certainly 
know enough of mine."

Kena looks somewhat longingly at Ofira's gift to Kassima.

M'rgan pads up to Kena like a happy puppy canine who hasn't realized yet 
that shoes are not chewtoys. He peers at the beauty basket as well and 
asks his weyrmate, "Should I get you something like that for your 
thirty-first turnday?"

T'saren peers in the basket, a puzzled look on his face as he surveys the 
contents. "Glad I don't need all that stuff," he murmurs to nobody in 
particular. "May'd probably like it though..."

[Editor's Note:  Here, most of us got disconned for a moment.  A few
poses are missing, but on the whole, I think the log maintains 
continuity. :) ]

T'saren shrugs a shoulder in reply to Ofira. "Well how the shards would I 
know? I figured a backrub worked well enough." He looks back at Kassi and 
shakes his head. "Not me."

Ofira nods quietly to Kassima's words, "Yes," she murmurs in agreement.

Kassima crinkles her nose at Tas. "And right glad you sound of it too, 
boyo. Just remember: you're only as old as you can con yourself into 
believing you are!" Glancing towards Kena, she says, "Methinks that makes 
you next in line, Kena... may I?"

Kena rewards M'rgan's question with a sharp elbow in the midriff. "That 
would be lovely, Mart dear," she says sweetly. "Oh, I guess I'm next, 
Kassi." She hands the greenrider the flat ribbon tied hide wrapped 
package.

T'saren gives a light smirk in Kassi's direction. "Or as old as you feel, 
though if that were the case I'd be eating my herdbeast with a spoon 
instead of cutting it up." He grimaces at that mental image, then peers 
curiously at Kena's gift.

Kassima accepts the parcel with a grateful smile, then retorts to T'saren, 
"Y'know what they say about all bronzers being about as mature as babes!" 
A wink, and then she tugs at the green ribbon of Kena's gift, very 
carefully removing the hide wrapping to see what's inside....


---

These women's pantaloons, made of pristine white cotton, are without a 
doubt the fanciest most people have ever seen. Row upon row of frilly, 
scalloped lace is sewn to the cotton, beginning low on the hips and 
extending to where the knickers end at the knee. Capping the top of each 
lace row is a thin ribbon of pastel green, the shiny material carefully 
bowed to form a descending line of pretty bows along the outer side of the 
legs. At the knees is a wider band of lace, etched with embroidery the 
same delicate shade of green as the ribbons. Just below the drawstring 
waist is more embroidery, with dainty yellow flowers, blue ribbons and 
green vines decorating the smooth cotton panel at the stomach. A tag on 
the inside of the frilly undergarment declares it to be Weavermade.

---


[Editor's Note:  Kena, I've said it before, and I'll say it again:  you're
evil.]

Kena says "I thought these would go well with one of your kilts, Kassi 
dear."

D'thon blinks in utter bafflement, first at Kena and then at Kassi and 
then at... the garment.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Kena... you have just exceeded my expectations 
when it comes to your Greenrider Evil Rating. ;)"

M'rgan starts to nod his agreement with T'saren as he overhears the 
slightly younger man's words. "I know. How are we supposed to know that 
they like bath oils and stuff. I mean they are always saying that they 
don't want anything but if you don't get them...Ooof." The brownrider 
settles down and watches Kena present her gift to Kassima while he rubs 
his now sore stomach.

Telgar Weyr> Kena curtsies :)

Meli's eyes nearly bug out, before she finds herself bent over and 
coughing. Cough cough.

Telgar Weyr> M'rgan apologizes for my pose coming through too late. It was 
caught in a five minute lag.

T'saren sticks out his tongue at the Wingleader, then blinks at the gift. 
"Okay. Please, someone tell me women don't all want gifts like that too?" 
He looks as if the fabric might be contagious.

Th'lon smirks at the garmet, particularly after envisioning it with a 
kilt, "Woo hoo." he calls out, careful to stay at the back of the crowd 
though.

M'rgan beams as he sees Kena's lacy gift to Kassima. "Wow. That's 
perfect."

Kailia raises and eyebrow and humms.

Telgar Weyr> Meli bol at Mart. You do like to live dangerously.

Telgar Weyr> M'rgan laughs. Well, it happens to go with Mart's gift. I 
didn't know before what Kena had gotten for her.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Mart, if you got Kassi frilly underwear, I 
hope you realize that you're going to die. ;)"

Kassima is... well, stunned would be a good word. At a loss for words. 
Speechless. It's probably a safe bet that the woman has never been given 
lacy undergarments in her *life*, much less anything quite so ornate as 
this. Still.... "I doubt 'twould go with m'kilt," she says diplomatically, 
"since that's far too plain a thing t'be wearing with something like this. 
I can honestly say that I've never owned aught like it a'fore--and the 
generousity of it astounds me." She even summons a grin from somewhere. 
Perhaps she's envisioning dressing some hapless, too-cheerful male in a 
larger copy of this?

Ofira eyes the bloomers and smiles. "Very...decorative," she comments, 
"And festive. Very fitting to the ocassion."

Telgar Weyr> Kena offers you M'rgan, Kassi 0:)

Telgar Weyr> Kassima tries to find a tactful way to ask whether you still 
have the receipt for that, Kena. ;)

[Editor's Note:  'That' being Mart, not the pants. ;) Poor brownie.
Reading over that, I realize I sounded like I was talking about a Chia
Pet.]

M'rgan looks around at all of the faces, figuring out other people's ages 
as best he can. He takes a step forward, moving towards the pile of 
presents. "I guess I'm next." From somewhere in the midst of the pile he 
pulls out a medium-sized but fairly light cloth-wrapped bundle.

M'rgan dropped Kassima's Birthday Dress.


---

This gown has been cut in a long, graceful manner. The dress' skirt has 
the fullness necessary to let its wearer ride a dragon's back but the 
loose pleats hide this fullness when the wearer is merely standing, giving 
the skirt a loose but form-fitting look. The bodice and sleeves are sleek, 
fitting closely to the wearer's curves. The gown's cut is one of simple 
elegance, designed to flatter any wearer.

The color of the dress is another matter as few would find it flattering. 
It can only be described as pink. Very pink. Rose-petal pink. In addition, 
pink lace drips off the hem of the skirt and the cuffs of the sleeves.
URL for a similar dress is 
http://www.primenet.com/~donethat/pink_dress.gif

---


Telgar Weyr> Kena can only stay long enough to see M'rgan's gift. Happy 
turnday, Kassi. *snugs to everyone!*

Telgar Weyr> T'saren waviesnugs Kena bye! :)

Telgar Weyr> Canus wishes he could have been there so he sends a snug

Telgar Weyr> D'thon waves to Kena. :)

Spark bampfs out of the cold of between

Spark swoops down towards Kassima.

Spark chirps toward Kassima as he settles down.

Meli suddenly busies herself at the far side of the refreshments table, 
well away from this latest gift. And its giver.

Kassima sets down the fancy underpants, managing to look away--it's like a 
car wreck, you know--long enough to accept, with a wary smile, Mart's 
gift. And unwrap it. And... blink. "Oh, my," is all she can say at the 
sight of all... that... pink. And worse: pink *lace*.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Martigan, you are the Epitome of All Evil."

Telgar Weyr> Jehrina says, "Kassima has obviously never met Ambar. :)"

M'rgan rocks back and forth as he anxiously watches Kassima unwrap his 
present. That sucker cost him good marks after all. "Do you like it, 
Kassi? I thought you could wear it at the next Gather."

D'thon quietly scuttles generally away from That Dress, and its new owner.

Kailia raises her eyebrow again and eeps quietly. "Oh, my."

Kena can only think, better her than me.

Ofira's hand rises up to cover her mouth, only bemused eyes watching 
Kassima for her reaction.

T'saren looks from the dress to Kassi to M'rgan and back to Kassi, 
wondering when the slug is going to meet the brownrider's jaw.

M'rgan leans closer to Kassima. He mutters to Kassima, "... to attract a 
man or... what... Weaver... I... getting... Kena also but... enough..." 

You sense M'rgan leans closer to Kassima. "It's sure to attract a man or 
three. That's what the Weaver said. I was thinking about getting one for 
Kena also but I didn't have enough marks."

[Editor's Note:  See?  What'd I tell you.  Epitome of All Evil.]

Th'lon steps forward to get a better vantage of Kassima opening the 
brownrider's present. Catching a glimpse over the colors, he snickers 
loudly and nods to another onlooker, "Maybe he bought it in the dark."

Spark would snicker, but hes only a firelizard.

Telgar Weyr> D'thon peers at Tas's pose and thinks of Q2. :)

Telgar Weyr> T'saren grins. I don't think I want to know. :)

Kassima darts a glance up at Mart to see whether this is some sort of sick 
joke. Uh-oh. It isn't. Deep breath time, greenrider. "'Tis... really 
something else, Mart," she says after some scrambling for *something* to 
say. Finally, she resorts to all-out lying in the name of tact: "'Tis 
lovely. And 'twill be pleased," though how she manages to say *that* with 
a straight face, Faranth only knows, "t'wear it t'Bitra on the morrow." In 
a much quieter and edged voice, she adds, "Even if'n I'm *nay* in the 
market for a man." Hint, hint. "I'd be glad t'be offering you a loan?"

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Now, now. Kassi's a firm believer in the old 
law, 'Thou shalt not disrespect any gift, however horrible it may be.' 
She'll just get a suitable revenge later. ;)"

M'rgan's eyes are drawn to the knickers his weyrmate gave the greenrider. 
"Maybe I should've gotten you a pink kilt instead. I didn't even think 
about that. Hmm. Maybe next year." He smiles radiantly at Kassima as he 
steps back. "I'm glad you like it, greenie."

"Whatever happened to that other pink dr..." some hapless bluerider 
begins, before getting an elbow in the ribs.

T'saren just shakes his head at the dress, and how well Kassi accepted it. 
"Wonders never cease," he comments lightly, then pushes away from the 
table to retrieve his gift for the greenrider. "Guess it's my turn?" He 
looks around quickly, making sure he's the next youngest.

D'thon blinks. "Not sure. You go first."

Kassima's complexion goes positively grey at the very *thought* of a pink 
kilt, but she nevertheless manages a sickly expression that could be 
called a smile if you used your imagination. It would also help if you 
were on drugs. "I don't know whether they make pink kilts," she comments. 
Please, dear Faranth, let there be no Weaver with that much lack of taste. 
"'Tis one gift I'll never be forgetting, brownie. Of that, you may be 
sure." Nodding to Tas, she asks flippantly, "Let me guess: 'tis a purple 
lace negligee or the like?"

T'saren nods to D'thon and snags his gift - a box small enough to fit in 
one hand and wrapped with a black cloth. "Nay, Maylia'd be more likely to 
get that from me than you would, Kassi." He holds out the box to his 
fellow Wingleader, grinning.

Kassima closes her eyes to hide the flicker of extreme relief that was 
threatening to show in them, taking the box with a heartfelt grin. "Now 
that's more about m'mentee than I ever needed t'be knowing. A good thing, 
though; purple isn't m'color." With that reassurance of no purple negligee 
involved, she opens the small box with somewhat less trepidation.


---

Inside the box is a delicate necklace that has been made of tiny links, 
each in the shape of a dragon holding its tail in its mouth. Each linked 
dragon is also one of four different colors of gold-chased enamel - red, 
black, white, and green - that alternate along the entire length of the 
chain, representing a unity of Benden and Telgar Weyrs as well as Kassi's 
lifemate, Lysseth. Depending from the chain is a small but well-made 
pendant of purest gold, its shape a circular shield, engraved with the 
emblem of the Thunderbolt Wing. A small card rests on top of the necklace, 
reading, "To Kassi on her thirtieth turnday. May she have clear skies for 
the next thirty. From T'saren."

---


M'rgan strokes his chin thoughtfully at the mention of a purple lace 
negligee and he gives his weyrmate a couple of quick looks out of the 
corner of his eye. As Kassima takes the box he leans forward expectantly, 
his expression filled with curiousity.

Telgar Weyr> Ofira snugs all, especially Kassima and has to get to bed. 
But it was so nice to see you all :)

Telgar Weyr> Meli snugs!

Telgar Weyr> Neliea snugs Ofira. :)

Telgar Weyr> Kassima snugs an Ofira! Thanks much for the lovely basket! :)

Telgar Weyr> M'rgan wavies to Ofira.

Telgar Weyr> T'saren snugs Ofira bye. :)

Ofira leans over as an apprentice runs in and tugs at her arm urgently. 
Sighing, she makes her apologies, calling out to Kassima, "Happy turnday 
once again!"

"Wow, /two/ tasteful gifts," a murmur rises.

Ofira slips out of the records cavern.

Kassima emits a low whistle of appreciation, holding up the stunner of a 
necklace for all to see. "How marvelous!" she exclaims. "Tas, thankee! I'd 
wear this tomorrow, too, except I don't think 'twould set well with the 
pink. 'Tis lovely!" She's back to beaming again, and thus finds the next 
glib lie relatively easy: "Just as all the gifts are. Truly, you people 
are too kind t'me."

D'thon studies the necklace and makes an appropriately appreciative sound.

Th'lon sighs with relief as the necklace is pulled out, whistling with 
appreciation. In a lower tone to a party goer near him he grins, "At least 
it wasn't something polka-dotted."

Spark chirps appreciatively

T'saren just hides a chuckle at Kassi's words, then smiles as she opens 
the box. "I'm glad you like it, Kassi. I'm horrid at picking clothing out, 
but it seems I'm much better with jewelry." He gives her a wink, then 
settles back to watch the rest of the gifts be opened.

Kailia steps forward, "Kassima, I'm not sure if you will remember me, but 
I remember you well form the last time I was here and I wanted to give you 
this." She hands Kassima a small wrapped package.

Kailia dropped Fuzzy Scarf.


---

This is a long, extra fuzzy scarf. It is made of graduated shades of 
green, starting dark at one end and getting lighter in the middle, to 
almost white. It then gets dark again toward the other end. The ends are 
fringed, not too long. All along the scarf and tird into the fringe are 
small sparkly green beads, not enough to weight it down, but enough to 
make it a little fancy.

---


M'rgan gives T'saren a surprised thumb's up gesture as he catches sight of 
the necklace. The bronzerider has as much taste as he does. He offers the 
wingleader a few congratulatory words on his jewelry selection before his 
attention is drawn back to the gifts again.

"I'd put it on right now, but Kris would probably think the gold was a 
chew-toy when I got home," Kassi quips, setting the necklace in its box 
down on the table with the other opened gifts. Taking the parcel from 
Kailia, she narrows her eyes in thought. "I believe I recall you, as one 
who has a gift with the cloth... aye?" Opening the gift, she exclaims a 
wordless delight at the contents, holding up the scarf so that others can 
see. "Beautiful!" she declares with a broad smile. "Lysseth--and the blue 
'lizards, nay doubt--will love it; thankee!"

Kailia blushes, "You're welcome, truly."

Meli takes a seat where she can watch, nursing a second cup of the Red and 
a few hors-doevres. "Makin' out like a bandit, Kassi."

T'saren smiles his thanks to M'rgan for the compliments, then excuses 
himself quietly, and extremely reluctantly as well.

T'saren slips out of the records cavern.

Telgar Weyr> T'saren snugs everyone, but has to head out. :p Happy 
turnday, Kassi! :)

Telgar Weyr> Kassima snugs a Tas! Thankee, bronzer. :)

Kassima remarks, setting down the scarf, "'Tis a good thing I've naught 
else t'be spending money on--'twill need all m'marks t'be retaliating for 
this, come Turnover." With a fond smile at her loot, she wonders, "Who's 
next in the geezer line-up?"

D'thon steps forward and locates a long cylindrical package, carefully 
presenting it to Kassi. "Looks like I'm next in line," he comments. "Happy 
turnday, Kassi."

Th'lon leans back against the table and munches on another cookie as the 
scarf is unveiled. Well, at least the colors of the gifts has toned down a 
bit.

Kassima takes the cylindrical parcel with a curious expression, shaking it 
just a bit to try and determine the contents. "How mysterious," she 
remarks, before starting on the wrapping.

M'rgan's eyes widen as he sees the scarf and he gives Kailia a friendly 
smile as he tilts his head a touch.


---

This tapestry is decorated lavishly - one might even say garishly - with a 
border of silver and black chevrons surmounted by little green firelizards 
with blue-green eyes. Somehow all their expressions appear implicitly 
humorous.
 Pictured on the tapestry is a darkened room. Light spills from a doorway, 
illuminating the thick carpet of... tunnelsnakes?... on the floor, 
writhing grotesquely. In the center of the room, outlined in stark relief 
against the lit doorway, are two figures. The farther figure appears to be 
a particular greenrider, clad mostly in black leather and poised in an 
obviously-heroic fighting posture. Dark hair swirls around her face, and 
her green eyes flash in righteous rage. In one hand she grips what would 
pass for a wherry-skewer if it weren't about the length of her leg, and in 
the other a dagger is poised, ready to be flung at her opponent -
- who appears to be an eight-foot-long tunnelsnake rearing up on its 
hindflippers. The weaver obviously took serious liberties with this 
illustration; the vile creature, besides having slime dripping from its 
fangs and claws, has had its two upper sets of limbs replaced by arms 
ending in two-foot-long blades of bone. Arms upraised, it fixes Our 
Heroine with a menacing glare...

---


Telgar Weyr> Kassima ROTFLs! D'thon, that's *priceless*!

Kailia shakes her head, "Wow, it's um, amazing."

Meli claps her hands together in delight as she spots the images on the 
tapestry. "Wonderful!"

Telgar Weyr> Canus chuckles at the tapestry

Telgar Weyr> M'rgan woooooos!

Th'lon quirks a brow as he looks at the tapestry, shaking his head he 
takes a second look to make sure he saw it right, "Wow." is all he says 
about it.

Kassima unrolls the tapestry... and, after a moment of surprised regard of 
the images thereon, begins to laugh. "Faranth!" she wheezes. "I hadn't 
recalled Slithereth as being quite *that* menacing... or me as looking 
quite that heroic! D'thon, thankee! 'Twill make a lovely visual aid, the 
next time I tell the spawnlets the tale. I'll hang it right by the 
'snake's head on m'wall."

Telgar Weyr> Th'lon says, "Let's hang it up in the LC!!"

Telgar Weyr> Canus nods with Th'lon

M'rgan blinks at the tapestry a few times, twisting his head to and fro as 
if the picture before his eyes will change if he looks at it from another 
angle. "Wow," he finally remarks in a low, low voice.

D'thon grins. "Glad you like it," he remarks succinctly.

"'Tis glorious," Kassi assures the bluerider, quite sincerely. "'Twill go 
well with that painting I commissioned from Channa. Ask Mart about that 
one sometime; I'm sure he remembers it."

Telgar Weyr> Canus says, "Kassima and the tunnelsnake of doom."

Telgar Weyr> Kailia had forgetten about Slithereth!

D'thon glances to Mart for a moment, and wisely decides not to ask just 
yet.

M'rgan blinks wide, innocent eyes at the mention of Channa and a painting. 
He soon busies himself with looking for the next oldest person in the 
room.

Kassima, then scanning the table for unopened presents, finds one set off 
at one end. "Tag says 'tis from D'ton... we're about t'him in the 
age-race, neh?" Picking it up, she unwraps it to reveal a box with a 
clever knife-shape clasp--which, when itself opened, is revealed to be 
filled with... cookies? "Minecraft cookies!" the greenrider proclaims 
joyously. "Ooh! Have any of you ever tasted these? Some say they're like 
the Flirk's Klah of pastrydom! 'Twill have t'be thanking the bronzer, when 
I see him next."

Th'lon glances around the room, seeing if there are any oldies left with 
presents, "My turn yet?"

M'rgan seems very interested in the cookies until Flirk's Klah is 
mentioned. He draws back away from the cookies as if in fear for his life. 
"You mean the klah that caused everyone to act strange, right? And you're 
going to eat those cookies?"

Kassima looks about, and finally nods. "Methinks so, Th'lon. Shells, I 
can't believe you all got me gifts. Did your sanity temporarily abandon 
you, t'make you spend marks and time on me?" An impish look is cast Meli's 
way. "I know yours did, old friend, t'have invented that dance... but what 
d'you want t'bet it catches on?"

Th'lon steps to the center of the room, pulling a fairly wrinkled scrap of 
hide from his pocket, "I wrote you a little thing wingleader. Though it's 
not much following..umm..that." he says, looking between the tapestry and 
the pink dress.

Meli just shakes her head, then listens to Th'lon.

Th'lon clears his throat and straightens the hide out.

Kassima smiles sweetly to Mart, and proffers the box. "Every last one, 
unless mayhaps you'd like t'try one?" Turning her head, she nods to 
Th'lon, the Beam of Idiocy returning. "I'm certain 'twill love it," she 
says sincerely. If there's one thing she was brought up to always do, it's 
appreciate a gift.

So you're 30 today,
my what a feat
With the lifestyle you lead,
it must be a treat.

So many poor victims,
that have fallen to your greenrider ways
You must have trouble sleeping,
for fear they'll set your weyr ablaze.

But you know I'm teasing
we all love you very much.
And each of us hope your next scheme
will fall on some other schmuck.

Meli giggles.

Th'lon stuffs the hide back in his pocket and edges back into the group. 
Rather quickly you might say.

Spark's eyes twirl humorously

D'thon chuckles, applauding. "'Tis appropriate, I'd say," he notes.

M'rgan bursts out laughing, his shoulders shaking like he was in an 
earthquake as he grips the chair in front of him. He holds onto it like he 
was holding on for dear life, his knees suddenly feeling wobbly.

Telgar Weyr> M'rgan ROTFLs.

"*Poor* victims?" Kassi asks, with mock-indignance. "I'll have you know, 
each of 'em deserved everything they got!" With a wide grin and perhaps a 
slightly teary eye at the last stanza, she announces, "'Twas fantastic, 
Th'lon. I'd offer t'be hugging you all in thanks, you wonderful people 
you, except I have this feeling--call it a hunch--that most of you'd flee 
if'n I tried!" As she says this, her elbow snaps back to jab at Mart's 
ribs.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "You are all evil. And this is why I adore 
you. :)"

Telgar Weyr> Th'lon grins, You set such a good example for us ;)

Meli giggles again, then stifles a yawn. "Kassi, time f'me to go, I think. 
But I hope y'had a good time."

M'rgan shifts his body to block his poor, abused ribs. "Hey now. Only 
Kena's allowed to do that."

Telgar Weyr> Canus nods in agreement with Th'lon and has been taking 
notes.

Kassima smiles at her greenriding friend. "A good enough time that Mart 
won't die," she promises. "Thankee again for the... ah... excellent work 
of art, old friend."

Spark looks at Kailia and gives a friendly chirrup

Meli chuckles, levering herself up in an exaggerated manner, with a 
dramatic 'groan.' "No need t'emphasize th' /old/ part," she replies. 
"Y'gettin' there yourself."

Kassima then snorts at Mart. "All things concerned, methinks she'd nay 
begrudge me just this once. But I promise t'take t'thwapping you upside 
the head instead, henceforth." Another look is given at the piles of loot. 
"Y'know, I can't even begin t'tell you all how much I appreciate this. 
Meli, since we're only as old as we feel, I avow t'you, I'm surely nay 
much more than fifteen right now--hardly old!"

Meli finishes her wine, setting down the mug and giving everyone a jaunty 
wave. "Night, all! Thanks, was a great party."

D'thon coughs. "Seems it's come time for me to be off, too," he notes with 
a slight smile. "Happy Turnday again, Kassi."

"You're also as old as you look," M'rgan comments as he dives out of 
jabbing range. He's still a youngster of course.

Meli exits, laughing.

Meli slips out of the records cavern.

Spark has a small piece of hide strapped to his leg and he approaches 
Kassi.

D'thon steps out with the usual "Clear skies" tossed over his shoulder.

Kassima grins at D'thon, too. "Clear skies, wingmate, and thankee again 
also. Remember, too--dawn sweeps tomorrow, first thing!"

D'thon slips out of the records cavern.

A resident in the back of the room peeks over the crowd to grin at M'rgan, 
"Then you're getting on up there, eh paw paw?"

Telgar Weyr> Canus says, "Paw Paw Bears!"

Kassima then picks up a cookie from the green dragon-cookie plate and 
threatens Mart with it. "You tell me how old I look tomorrow, then, in 
that dress," she instructs, knowing full well that *pink lace* will 
probably make her look, oh, twelve or so. One can say that much for the 
stuff. Casting a curious look at the fire-lizard, she extends a hand to 
the brown. "Heyla, what's this?"

Telgar Weyr> Th'lon says, "Gummi bears? Gummi paw paw bears?"

Telgar Weyr> Meli says, "Night, Telgar!"

Telgar Weyr> Kassima snugsnugs the Melibabe! :)

Telgar Weyr> D'thon signs off. 'Nite, TGW! :)

Spark hops onto the profferd hand and chirrups

Telgar Weyr> Kassima snugs a Dath, too! :) Thanks again!

M'rgan runs a hand through his hair in what he hopes is a smooth, almost 
dashing gesture though in fact he's making sure that no bald spots have 
appeared unexpectedly. "It's not me. It's Kena. I'm weyrmated to an older 
woman." See, he's not so stupid. He said older instead of old. "You'll 
look beautiful in that dress, Kassi. It's guaranteed." Now who's the 
better liar?

Telgar Weyr> Kailia has to go... See you all later!

Bini zips into the records cavern from the bowl.

Bini flitters over to Kassima carrying a small rolled cloth.

Kailia nods to the room, "Happy Turnday Kassima!" Kailia slips out of the 
room.

Kailia slips out of the records cavern.

Telgar Weyr> M'rgan says, "Night, Kailia."

Telgar Weyr> A'lex says, "Nite"

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "G'night, Kailia! :)"

Spark twirls his eyes happily athe note says = "Happy Turnday 'K' - Canus"

Bini pants and heaves as she sets the burden next to the Turndaygirl for 
her to examine. (ex Bini/Tap)

Telgar Weyr> Canus just didnt want to be left out :)

Telgar Weyr> A'lex has to deliver by FL too, since he's at Bitra.

Kassima attempts to tug the small piece of hide free from the 'lizard's 
leg. Better liar? Well, let's just see if Mart can repeat that lie when 
she's actually *wearing* the dress. "Beauty is wasted on me," she quips, 
flippantly, "but we'll just see, hmm? Oh! From Canus--shards, good of him 
t'remember, busy with Candidacy and all! What did you lot do, drum the 
news across all Pern?"


---

Upon a small woven tapestry is a raven haired temptress, dressed in battle 
shredded hides. She stands atop a hillock, with Benden Weyr dominating the 
horizon behind her. Slightly down the hill from where she stands, a 
dusty-green dragon waits patiently for her lifemate. The woman's face is 
curved into the smile of the Victorious, and one fist is placed proudly on 
her hip, while the opposite foot is up on a rock. Her free arm is raised, 
and she clasps a finely jeweled sword, upon which is skewered the corpse 
of her dread foe, Lord Tuber (or so says the legend at the bottom). The 
sun is setting behind the Weyr, but it's last glints are reflected in her 
emerald eyes, one of which is partially hidden by her wind swept midnight 
black hair. At the bottom of the tapestry is a small scroll upon which is 
written, "The Victory of Kassima over Lord Tuber on the Benden Plains."

---


[Editor's Note:  That tapestry is from A'lex, whom Bini looks to.]

Spark takes awing once more

Spark bampfs into the cold of between

Kassima then turns her attention to Bini and her burden. "Poor thing! 
Let's see what you've got... oh!" That's the only reaction she seems able 
to make upon seeing this tapestry--she's too busy trying to keep from 
laughing yet again at the delightful scene portrayed to say more. "Oh," 
she does manage, again. "Oh, my."

"Your reputation proceeds you," M'rgan purrs in reply as he selects a 
green dragon cookie from the refreshment table. "Th'lon, have you and 
Algizth flown together yet?"

Telgar Weyr> Kassima ROTFLs at A'lex's gift. I feel oddly like Xena.

Telgar Weyr> A'lex says, "That was pretty much the idea."

Telgar Weyr> Reed says, "Are you wearing a metal breast plate? ;)"

Telgar Weyr> Canus waves to all

Telgar Weyr> M'rgan hees. You do seem to vanquish a lot of foes, don't 
you, Kassi. ;)

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Nope, battle-shredded hides, with a dread 
tuber impaled upon my sword. ;)"

Telgar Weyr> Reed ums...yup. I have a dirty mind.

Telgar Weyr> Th'lon laughs, Clearly I've missed a lot of Kassi stuff. Lord 
Tubers and Slitherith's, oy. :)

Telgar Weyr> Kassima hees at Th'lon. Ask Kassi to show you Slithereth's 
head sometime; it really is hanging on her wall.

Kassima finally gives in to the inclination to chortle, holding the 
tapestry up. "D'you believe this? 'Tis the triumph of the forces of 
goodness over the forces of evil!" Since when has Kassi been on the 
'goodness' side of that ledger? "I'll have t'be thanking 'Lex, too. Though 
m'weyr is going t'look as though I've tried t'make it a monument to 
m'self, at this rate! What reputation? I don't have a reputation."

M'rgan absently wipes cookie crumbs from the front of his clothes as he 
turns to look at the tapestry. His face breaks into a broad grin and he 
silently chuckles. "They sure captured you in that tapestry. Except that 
your tongue isn't sticking out in that picture."

Bini zips out of the records cavern.

Th'lon turns his head sideways at the appearance of another extremely 
interesting tapestry, "What's the..and that..Hmmmm." shaking his head, he 
turns back to the refreshment table. No doubt wishing a mug of wine were 
allowed.

Kassima starts to stick out her tongue in response, then catches herself. 
"Hey. I only do that when I *lose*, nay when I win, wher-brain. 'Tis a 
tuber, methinks... isn't it something? Though everything's something. I 
can't imagine how I'll manage t'thank everyone for all of this."

Th'lon's head jerks up and he peers out towards the weyrling barracks, 
"Algzith's awake." Grabbing up another cookie, he heads for the entrance, 
"Happy turnday wingleader!"

"Thankee, Th'lon!" Kassi calls after the departing bronze weyrling. 
"M'regards to that lifemate of yours!"

M'rgan chuckles at Th'lon's sudden, swift movement as he recalls a time 
when he would jump just as fast for his lifemate. He gives the lad a wave 
of goodbye as he strolls towards Kassima. "You could start by losing at 
poker the next time we play."

Th'lon slips out of the records cavern.

Kassima snorts and gives the brownrider a look of mock-chastisement. 
"Would you *really* want t'win if'n 'twas nay fair and square?" she 
chides. Then, more seriously, "Mart... thankee. I can't begin t'thank 
you--or tell you how grateful I am for a chance t'be celebrating 
something, especially now. Who knew there was such a decent person beneath 
that evil exterior?"

M'rgan's right eyebrow arches up at Kassima's question. As if there would 
be any doubt that he'd be perfectly happy to win by any means. "I've 
always been a decent person. That's me. Nice Mart." And to show just how 
nice he is he breaks his untouched cookie in two and offers the back 
half to Kassi. "I'm just glad you were surprised. You deserved it, 
Kassi."

"Oh, so? Even that time when you made me chase you around the beach with a 
skewer in self-defense, or threatened t'moon the galleries, or kicked me 
in the ribs when we caught up with you and Bree on the road to Ruatha?" 
Kassi demands good-naturedly as she takes the proffered cookie-half. 
"'Twas surprised. And touched. And honored. And a bunch of sentimental 
stuff that I can't really describe without sounding like an idiot, so will 
refrain from trying. The question is, how'm I supposed to match this? 
Think another basket of greens on your ledge might do it?"

M'rgan's reply to Kassima's question starts off with eyes gone as wide as 
a dinner plate and ends with a garbled "Ack!!"

Kassima's beam at the brownrider this time is decidedly mischievous. "Is 
that an aye?"

Telgar Weyr> Th'lon yawns and poofles for the night. HTD Kassi! :)

Telgar Weyr> Kassima zhaisnugs Th'lon! Thanks again! :)

M'rgan shakes his head vigorously as he recovers his voice. "No. No. No. 
The last thing I need right now is another sharding flit. I don't have 
enough time as it is."

Kassima chortles heartlessly, but finally relents, "All right, all right. 
Nay more 'lizards for you if'n you promise t'never help m'children Impress 
any. Faranth knows, Khari'd probably just *love* a green of her own, and 
Kay a brown." Flicking a wry smile, she then asks, "So when're your ladies 
due t'start glowing again, anyway? You know I always like t'witness that 
so I can garner blackmail material."

"You don't have to worry about that," M'rgan affirms as he leans up 
against the table, resting a little of his rear on the tabletop. "I don't 
want anyone giving a firelizard to my kids. Oh, not for another half turn 
or so. The last few turns they've been splitting up their proddiness so it 
hasn't hit me so bad. Nothing I can't handle."

Kassima clicks her tongue in mock-dismay. "What? Nay lecherous proddy 
brownrider t'be writing songs about anymore? I'm *crushed*. And Kay's 
always said she wanted t'see you when you were acting like you do in that 
story, too, since she's never gotten t'see you in your Secret Identity as 
Aunt Martina. Pity." Another wink, another grin. "Though, Mart--you do 
know all that stuff I tease you about is in the sense of jest, right? 
Revenge for all those cracks you used t'make at me and all. I don't mean 
to actually upset you or aught, just in case you didn't know."

M'rgan gives his friend a long, long look. He breaks the staring with a 
sudden laugh and a tiny shake of his head. "Now we both know you don't 
tell those stories to the living cavern while I'm around because you think 
I'm going to start laughting about them."

Kassima asks dryly, "And you think I'm going t'start laughing about what 
you say about me? All's fair in love, war, and Sacred Vendettas, brownie. 
Besides, you turn the most fascinating shades of red when you're 
embarrassed--almost the color of that dress, actually." She chuckles. 
"Though actually, I'll admit that I say that in part t'soften you up for a 
favor I need t'be asking. I hate t'ask it now of all times, but 'tis 
something best settled. I promise, nay dresses or ballads or underpants or 
tent pegs are involved."

M'rgan just nods to Kassima, urging her to go on. His expression is open 
and there's a hint of a smile on his mouth.

Kassima takes a deep breath, pushing her hair back out of her eyes. "'Tis 
actually nay a pleasant thing t'be asking, but... well. If'n I buy it in 
Fall or however a'fore the children are of age, they'll be Simaeva's 
charges, a'course. But she might--shells, *probably* will, knowing my 
hellions--need some help." Solemnly, "You and Kena are two of the finest 
parents I know. Would you be willing t'keep an eye out for the spawnlets, 
and mayhaps help 'Maeva now and then if'n 'twere need? I know 'tis a large 
thing t'be asking. You can certes say nay, and I'd understand."

M'rgan was expecting something silly. Something frivolous that he could 
joke about or wink about or just have a good chuckle over. So he's more 
than a little taken aback by Kassima's words and it takes him a few 
seconds to recover. When he does though his reply is a firm, 
unequivocable, "Yes," followed by, "Kena and I are flattered that you 
would think of us," which is soon followed by a puzzled, "Why do you bring 
this up now? It's not because of your turnday, is it? Nothing's ever going 
to happen to you, you know." The last is meant to be reassuring and he 
reaches out as if to give Kassima's arm a friendly, companionable 
squeeze.

Kassima smiles with unalloyed relief at the positive answer, letting out a 
breath she probably didn't even know she held. "Good," is her simple 
reply. "Despite m'best efforts, the children just haven't developed much 
spirit of rivalry with you and yours yet, so methinks you'd get along 
well." At the last query, she lowers her eyes and admits quietly, "I've 
been thinking a lot of such things since Jh'rin died... especially for 
Khari's sake. The others still have their fathers to look out for them, 
but she...." A shrug, too casual, dismissing the pain of the topic. "Well. 
I want t'know that she and Kay and Kris would all be taken care of as best 
as is possible, d'you ken?"

M'rgan nods slowly, his eyes lowering as well. Even as Kassima mentions 
it, he makes the connection with Jh'rin's death. "I can understand that. 
Kavi and Dary have their real parents and Kegan's not a little boy anymore 
so it's not the same for Kena and I. But I think about it now and then 
myself." He lifts his gaze a touch as his shoulders rise as well. His body 
is slowly morphing into the 'strong man' posture he's expected to have and 
wishes his weyrmate used more often. The shoulder to lean/cry on. "How are 
you and Khari doing?"

Kassima seems inclined to accept the proffered comfort, her own posture 
slumping as her borrowed energy and gaeity leave her. "Nay well," she 
admits quietly. "He adored her, you know. I know you didn't think much of 
him, but he was a wonderful parent t'Khari, and she loved him right back. 
Having t'tell her was the hardest thing I've ever done." Softer yet, "And 
having t'be strong for her when half the time *I* want t'break down and 
cry isn't much of a picnic. But we'll survive. At least she's old enough 
that she'll remember him... he'd want that, methinks."

"I didn't know him like you did," M'rgan says as he stretches out his arm 
to his friend, offering her a hug. "I only knew him as the proddy 
greenrider in a dress," he remarks with a touch of levity, trying to break 
the mood without forcing a change of Kassima's feelings. "Perhaps you 
should commission someone to do a painting or tapestry of him. So she 
won't ever be able to forget him. I wish I'd done that after Julaina 
died."

Kassima can't help but laugh at that as she hugs the brownrider in return, 
though the sound is half-sorrowful. "Would you believe, I never did get 
t'see him in that dress? I always rather thought 'twould be interesting 
if'n 'twere both proddy at the same time and place somehow, y'know--him 
always dressing like a woman, me like a man. We'd have made an interesting 
duo." The Man in Black and the Woman in Red... sort of. "I plan on that. 
As it happens, I've cousins in all the Crafts, and one who's a painter 
besides... she's agreed. And Khari will have her stuffed dragon, too. 
Y'know, the green one like the brown you gave Kay that she's always 
carrying around? Jhor made it for her himself."

"I guess she's destined to be a greenrider then," M'rgan remarks with a 
smile and then, after a heartbeat's pause, a shudder. "As for the dress, 
you didn't miss much. His knees were even worse than mine."

Kassima smiles reminiscently. "She's always wanted t'be, and he used 
t'encourage that. So do I, a'course--what nobler aim is there?" With a 
grin, she gives the brownrider's shoulder a nudge. "Oh, come on. You just 
must be a bad judge of such; you have fine knees. And so did he." So 
there. Nyah.

"To be a brownrider of course," M'rgan responds with a wink. His next 
words are more solemn but he runs through them quickly so as to not bring 
down the lifting mood. "Not that I'm encouraging the children with that...
So, are you going to be able to manage to bring all of your presents up to 
your weyr yourself?" His gaze wanders towards the pile.

Kassima gives a droll snort. "You've *already* corrupted Kay into that. 
Didn't you know? Her lifelong ambition is t'be a brownrider and a 
Weyrleader, with a 'Secret Dendity' just like Uncle Mart's. Only she 
insists that nay anybody's going t'burn *her* underpants like Uncle Kiat 
burned M'hryn's, or make her wear pink lace like Aunt Auri and Mum made 
V'hryn. I can't imagine where she gets these ideas." Letting her eyes roam 
over the presents, she says, "Methinks so, though I'm nay sure. I hardly 
came equipped t'be handling such mass generosity--I *thought* 'twas coming 
down here t'be discussing the next Fall. Nay that I'd nay rather have a 
celebration any day of the seven."

M'rgan rolls his eyes just a touch. "Gosh, I wonder where she gets those 
ideas. It certainly couldn't be from anyone I know." After popping the 
last little bit of cookie into his mouth, he turns to give the presents 
pile a longer look. "Well, if you need any help, I can get the lump down 
here. He's awake still. I think he's asking another of the browns about 
Cymrith."

"'Tis a mystery, isn't it?" Kassi inquires facetiously, moving to gather 
the presents into a more carriable pile. "Far be it from me t'be 
interrupting Ularrith's romantic counselling session. I'll manage. 
Planning t'go to the Gather tomorrow? There should be dancing, which I 
plan t'watch--there's always the hope of getting t'see someone fall on 
their face--and with the handfasting over, mayhaps the romantical rot will 
be at a minimum. One can devoutly hope."

"If Kena's there, I'll be there," M'rgan says as he helps Kassima with the 
presents as best he can. And of course he ensures that she doesn't forget 
his beautiful dress. "It all depends on her schedule. If she's got sweeps 
though I'll have to watch the children."

Telgar Weyr> M'rgan waves goodnight to everyone. It's time for me to be 
heading out.

Telgar Weyr> A'lex says, "Nite M'rgan."

As if Kassi had a chance of forgetting that dress? "A'course, a'course. 
Just don't miss the tug-of-war, hmm? We'll get t'kick some Bitran rump." 
Gathering the last presents into her arms, she says, "Thankee again, 
brownie--for everything."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima zhaisnugs the Squidman. Thanks again, brownie-san. :)

M'rgan reaches out to brush his fingertips across Kassima's shoulder. 
"Happy Turnday, greenie."

Kassima grins at the brownrider. "Just wait," she threatens, "until you 
see what I get you for Turnover t'be making up for it, brownie."

M'rgan merely waggles his eyebrows in Kassima's direction. He's not 
afraid. At least he won't show outwardly that he's afraid.

M'rgan slips out of the records cavern.

You slip out of the records cavern.