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

Tease Me, Displease Me


Date:  January 16, 2005
Places:  High Reaches Weyr's Western Bowl and Galleries
Game:  PernMUSH
Copyright Info:  The World of Pern is copyright(c) to Anne McCaffrey 
l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.

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

Kassi's Note:  Telgar invades High Reaches again, this time in the 
persons of Yselle, T'bay, Kassima, and later on recent transferee 
Eilidh.  This is a crew that might be expected to tease V'lano and
each other, and so they do, but on this occasion at least one tease 
isn't taken as intended and causes quite a backlash.

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


The Log:

You bank and land neatly on the ground.

You slide off of Lysseth's neck to land beside her easily. She rumbles,
cocking her head down at you, and you rub her eyeridges gratefully.

Kassima swings down and lands with a bit of a hop before making straight
for the Galleries, removing her riding helmet and gloves along the way.

You stroll through the tunnel, emerging in an enormous cavern. You walk up
a short flight of steps into the galleries.

V'lano points first at Yselle, then at T'bay, naming them each again for
Petrusa's particular benefit, then rises - but only to turn and sit on the
bench, patting it as a spot Petrusa might climb (or be lifted) to if she
wished. "Flights," he remarks, then, with a look for each of the visiting
Telgari, significant. Then a sigh, and a wistful grin at the little girl.
He excuses his previous comment with a dry, "But enough about my troubles."
Flicking his gaze up again from Pet to the riders of brown and green, he
muses, "Tell me how wing training's been, T'bay? Yselle, what have I missed?"

Yselle has folded her arms by now, and is gazing in the opposite direction
from T'bay, so she misses the look he sends her. Instead she addresses
Petrusa, "I came to see them, do you know, when he's not here, Big Nano,"
she flashes V'lano a smile for that, "He flies in my wing? And..." she
lowers her voice in a conspiratorial fashion, "I knew him when he was just
a bit older than those eggs. T'bay too," and now she glances at the
brownrider, although only briefly. "Well maybe a bit older; but they
weren't pretty colours like those." To V'lano, "Well, you missed a big
fight between S'ran and K'tral - over, would you believe it? D'fair, that's
probably the most exciting of what's happened lately."

T'bay smiles toward the little, moving around the bench and taking up a
spot on V'lano's other side, sure to leave a spot for Petrusa. "Well met,
young Reachian," he greets the girl, affording her cheerful respect. "Wing
training. Well, I haven't put any of my paunch back on, if that's what
you're asking. Captain Evil keeps us going up and about at all hours, so we
don't fall into a lull, or get lazy. I think it is for the sheer torture of
it." He grins, shakes his head, looks back over toward Yselle, setting his
jaw. "People fighting over each other. I guess weyrs and holds aren't so
different, but--gah. Who'd've expected it? Say, she did know us then, too.
Strange as it seems to say it."

Petrusa's look of disappointment over hearing that any baby dragons are
sleeping and not available to play with her is sweet. Her arms lift seeking
aid from V'lano to be seated on the bench as she asks T'bay with growing
curiously, "Why? I be awake." Yselle's words are registered slightly albeit
in childlike fashion and she offers in a friendly way. "You can snuggle my
Beeth if'n you want to." Which follows with an oh as rounded eyes return to
the Bronze clutch sire.

Kassima's entrance is accompanied this time by the sound of quiet humming,
some tune it's hard to make out since the humming's done under her breath.
She's also pulling free the pins that keep her hair bound in its coronet
atop her head. Must be fresh from some sort of business. "Duties, duties,
dut--" Pause. "I scarcely need give duties, do I? Looks like a Telgar
invasion in here--almost," she observes, a grin flashing across her
features. "Haven't missed the contraceptive tea, have I? Heyla, all. Oh,
T'bay... you've found me out. M'dreadful secret. That I do it all t'torture
you. You realize a'course that this means you now must die."

The bronzerider's nose wrinkles. "Ah. Very exciting," he remarks, making an
effort, if a poor one; he nods sideways to T'bay, sharing the brownrider's
sentiment. "Riders should have better sense. Or thicker skins." He's one to
talk, and the faint flush rising in his cheeks knows it. Safer, then, to
focus on lifting up Petrusa to her place on the bench, making sure she can
see from there the eggs out on the rain-dappled sands. "They have to sleep
until they're ready to come out of the eggshells," he informs her. "They
have to work up their strength so they can make friends when they come
out." Surely this has been explained to the little girl before, but it's so
much more comfortable to repeat the lesson than to get between what else is
going on here. "No killing T'bay," he mutters, though, not needing to look
up and share that blush to know whom he's speaking to, "Especially in front
of Pet." Poor child, these Telgari are going to warp her young mind.

"Well, not fighting exactly," Yselle says, "Not with knives or anything,"
she's looking at the eggs too, now. "Just some words, some shoving, I
managed to settle it down before it got too out of hand. - Hey Kassi, no I
think the tea's still to come." She smiles once again at the little girl.
"I can? You're very sweet to offer." Clearly she has a soft spot for
children. "Hm?" that to V'lano's words, "Well, perhaps they should,"
quietly. "But I wasn't planning on killing anyone today."

T'bay, from his seated position, is hunched forward, elbows resting on his
knees. All the better to have his wits scared out of him by the sudden
appearance of his Wingleader! "Er, ah, what was that?" he repeats to the
little girl. "You're awake? So am I, now! Greetings, Telgar's--yeah, and
all that. No no, no tea course served yet. Just bootsoles, crisp with a
side of rain." Another long look toward Yselle, and he murmurs, "That's
okay, okay for sure. Somehow death might be preferable at the moment. Sure
is cold out here. Even an apology for being a wherry might get stuck
midair." That last could almost be directed toward someone particular, the
brownrider realizing belatedly that perhaps he can't--or shouldn't--jest
with a certain greenriding Weyrsecond as once he might've. He glances
toward the eggs, yon, then nods, "They'll need to make friends. All the
friends they can get."

Petrusa ohs in hushed tones hardly hearing V'lano's explanation to her
question as her young and inquisitive eyes lock on Kassima then back to
T'bay. She's never seen grown ups play 'must die' and offers the latter
rider some words of wisdom. "When she be killing you stick out your tongue
like this." A demonstration follows as the girl's tongue slips out to hang
at the side of her mouth. Over the next few sentences she makes a face and
asks V'lano. "They don't play now? It be a good game."

"Natural enough for people t'fight over each other, depending on the nature
of their arrangement. If'n they have one." Kassima's late to the topic, but
seems to take the idea in stride anyway. She threads her path through the
tiers until she's standing near the gathered group. Each of them get a
smile of some kind: Vel, a warm one; T'bay and Yselle, friendly; the child
she doesn't know, friendly too, but perhaps a bit warmer--in a different
way than V'lano's was--for her age. "What d'you take me for?" she chides
the bronzerider lightly. "A'course nay in front of the lass. I'd take him
out to the Bowl and kill him. Probably to the far end of the Bowl, so his
yells wouldn't disturb," and she flashes T'bay a grin that's somewhat
wolfish. But it's humor rather than malice that her eyes gleam with, and
she can't keep the pose for long. "*Captain Evil*. Can't decide whether I
should be offended, or terribly flattered, or should request that all
m'Wingmates call me that from here on out. Why were you eating bootsoles?"
Petrusa's wisdom catches her attention, however, and she melts just that
much more. Clearly, she has a soft spot for potentially homicidal children.
"We could play? If'n Vel and Ys wouldn't mind. You could dance the
traditional victory jig around his body with me, once he's dead."

"I bet it's a good game." V'lano by now dares to look up, seeming a little
relieved to find the Weyrsecond watching the eggs instead of him or his
onetime holdmate. "Not you, Yselle," he notes, then turns his frank smile
toward Kassima, where her perspective on nature's course makes him pale a
little. It takes the blush out of his face, at least, and leaves him clear
to run his tongue over his lips, wiping away a wide variety of comments
that mouth could have attempted to form. In the wake of the cleaning he
comes up with, "I still haven't learned this jig. You're going to teach Pet
secret Thunderbolt jigs and not me?"

Yselle glances at T'bay now, and then carefully at V'lano and Kassima, her
cheeks pinkening. "I'm not going to kill T'bay," she repeats, "I wish we
could talk about something else." Only now does she really look at the
brownrider, "It's fine," she says in a bland, closed tone. "It's all in
fun, nobody's hurt," she isn't overly convincing, but the words are there,
"You don't mind if you dance around someone else, do you?" all this talk of
killing just seems to upset her more, she looks positively white, once the
blush has faded.

T'bay settles his chin onto his hands further, despairingly. "Right. So no
one can hear my girlish death screams. Really? Like this?" He imitates
Petrusa's death-face, complete with tongue. "I need proper training, see,
in this art. Though I am most skilled at the shoe-eating scene." A forlorn
look is shared with Vel, lingering a moment to see if there's more to this
'arguing about who goes with whom' than is specified aloud, then Yselle,
whether they participate in the sharing or no. Aiming to cheer himself, he
suggests to Kassima, "We should all call you that. It's a perfect addition
to ah, what we already call you. Ma'--noooo," he catches himself, "Not
ma'am. Evil one is definately more accurate. I guess if I'm to die, I can't
rise up and join the jig. So. Should I run around and then die, or just
flop over right here?" Belatedly, he realizes Yselle might be opposed to
this game, and he takes to studying his shoes with extreme focus. "Orrrr,
maybe not."

Petrusa claps with delight over the prospect of learning to dance. Suddenly
unable to decide who to look at she head bobs first one way then the other
as she works to make out heads and tails of the other conversations. Having
no luck until Yselle speaks she smiles happily. "I can stand on me head and
dance. Wanna see?" But that idea gets lost at T'bay gains her attention.
"Nah uhh. Be like this." Again the death face is made this time the tongue
hangs on the other side of her mouth.

Kassima cants her head to cast Vel a puzzled look, from which one might
garner that the comment was not--intentionally--rife with any deeper
meaning. "Depending on the nature of the arrangement," she repeats, trying
to be helpful and clarify whatever misunderstanding must, in her view, have
caused that pallor. All of that clears in favor of a grin. "This is me,"
she informs, voice pitched low but perhaps not sufficiently so to go
unheard, "*nay commenting* on any secret Thunderbolt jigs I might already
have taught you. Ahem. I do suppose 'twould be most unfair t'leave you out
of a giddy dance around T'bay's piteous, piteous corpse. Is that your name,
lass? Pet?" But her attention is again drawn away, this time by the need to
give Yselle an outright bewildered look. "A'course you're nay going to.
*I'm* going to. For calling me Captain Evil. Why would you? There! That's
it, T'bay, that's just the face. You should also twitch and flop
spasmodically, though, before gasping out a lingering death rattle. Make it
melodramatic--the best death scenes are, aren't they?" She glances towards
Petrusa, consulting. "I definitely prefer Evil One t'ma'am. I suppose,
however, that I can forbear from killing you for now. Ys? How about you?
Since T'bay and Vel and the wee lassling all seem t'want t'do the dancing."

T'bay's glance acquires V'lano's distractable attention, and for a moment
he shares with his friend a desperate expression rather like a face rising
above a tossing sea - and then submerging again, he turns to Petrusa,
suddenly worried: "We'd love to see you stand on your head, but maybe not
where the ground's so hard. Um. Unless you want help?" Because, you know,
headstanding with help is certainly more safe than without, especially when
your help consists of this crowd. The bronzerider does cheer a bit and dare
to look Kassima-ward again, however, as she jibes him about Thunderbolt
jigs, and the familiar and almost comfortable - by comparison - redness in
the peaks of his ears is joined by a more general improvement in his
complexion. "Captain Evil's not bad," he notes helpfully. "Captain Evil and
Weyrsecond Wicked." Come on, Yselle, he's grinning at you!

"I'd love to see you dance," Yselle murmurs to Petrusa, but then the little
girl's attention is distracted and she smiles gently at her. "Very
impressive face," she says. "I almost thought you /were/ dead." She pauses,
expression lightening at Kassima's clarification, "Oh huh, I'm sure you'll
brag about that name later; you'll probably write it on the wall at the
lava lounge." She does laugh a little and say, "Don't you think Lysseth
would be a big miffed if you killed me, Kassi? Dianneth certainly would...
weyrsecond /what/? Why you..." she does laugh now, for V'lano's words.

T'bay seems to be somewhat calmed at the idea that he's not actually going
to be faking a death, though he coughs at his misreading, or perhaps,
accurate reading of Kassima's intimation about 'secret jigs.' "You can't do
the sacred jig around my corpse for calling you Captain Evil! Like she
says," an effort to meet Yselle's eyes, there, searchingly, "you'll write
it on the wall! It was an honorary! I should be held aloft, celebrated for
my cleverness! Or at least should get to hold the end of the trousseau for
you and M'tri. Sheesh. No honor here." He nods to Pet, especially at
V'lano's suggestion. "That would be fun, but these benches are awfully
hard. It's be easier in the sand to do a headstand, but I don't know if you
can go down there." Seeing the lightness seem to touch Yselle brings an
almost smile to T'bay's features, and t'was a good thing, too, as he was
starting to seem like he'd left home without it.

Petrusa's first reaction is a happy nod to Kassima then a grin to V'lano as
her head starts to shake. Happy to please Yselle she maneuvers her feet
onto the bench then bends over, her head lightly touching the seat. Feet
lifting and touching down again as she 'dances'. "La la la." She supplies
her own music then lifts her head to peek at the riders. "Ta da."

Kassima watches the interchange between bronzerider and child with
something that's a cross between amusement and affection, shading back to
teasing as she automatically--even triumphantly--grins at the Return of the
Red. "I'm winning today," she quips, laughing. "Captain Evil makes it sound
as if'n I should be a sea-renegade, though! Dressed all in black,
brandishing knives, disrupting trade routes wherever they may pass and
stealing all the liquor aboard for me and m'crew of... hey. Y'know, I could
live with that. Hmmmm. Will you be on m'crew, then?" she asks, and this is
directed to all present. "Miffed? Ach, nay. Nay so long as you got up again
afterwards. She'd just be disgusted that her rider's making a fool of
herself, *again*, or pretend t'be." The sidelong grin she casts T'bay at
his cough is not apt to be reassuring. She coughs herself then, and
protests, "We aren't doing the *sacred* jig around your corpse, man, nay in
the *Galleries*. That'd just be--oh. Nay the one you meant. Sorry."
Incorrigible much? "You still get t'hold the end of the trousseau. And
'twill treat you to another night of shots at the Lounge for your
cleverness, how's that?" Although she looks concerned for a moment when it
seems Petrusa will do acrobatics on the bench, it's not long-lived. Soon
she's laughing, and beaming, and applauding, and furthermore informing,
"That was a beautiful, beautiful dance, Pet. If'n m'sons were here, they'd
doubtless writhe with envy for nay knowing such a dance."

"Oh, you don't need... help..." V'lano, dumbfoundedly grinning, observes
the dancing with sudden, mind-blanking understanding. Applause follows,
with laughter restrained only by a desire to make sure the girl doesn't
feel -too- laughed at - just the center of attention. A little redder than
before, he looks up to catch emerald eyes with his deep ones, shaking his
head at the Thunderbolt wingleader's brashness. "I'd never hear the end of
it. Josilina'd ask Lhiannonth to eat -me-." Bold enough himself, he winks,
then picks himself up off of the bench with a stretch into his full height.

Petrusa's adventure quickly comes to an end as a Nanny arrives looking a
bit stern at having to go find the little. The young one ohs softly them
looks up with an innocent smile. "Nanny, Me been playing." Though she knows
the elder woman is about to carry her off. When she's picked up her giggles
start and she waves to her new found playmates over the woman's shoulder.
"Bye bye." The pair then hurry off.

Yselle glances between V'lano and Kassima, thoughtful for a moment, but
smiles warmly for the dance. "That's very clever," she tells the girl.
"You'll have to be a dancing harper when you're all grown up, so that
everyone will see how well you dance." - "Just pretend killing then, Kassi?
I die much more convincingly than Tel, although that's not hard, he's such
a ham; he told me to tell you he still wants you. Mind you, he says that
every time I mention your name, so..." she spreads her hands helplessly.
Her earlier mood seems to have dissipated, "Now for this Weyrsecond wicked
business, hm... I'd have to earn the name I suppose, I wonder if K'ran's
interested in suggestions for the next roster? I've a name in mind for dawn
sweeps," she offers V'lano a teasing smile, one not even displaced by the
mention of the Reaches Weyrwoman. "When are those eggs going to hatch
again?" It's only now that she glances again at T'bay, and whilst the
warmth of her greeting isn't in her expression, at least she shrugs a
little ruefully in his direction.

T'bay laughs. "You and Lucky-Handed Amarie, a crew of two! Though if we all
join in, at least we've our own skilled dancer in the group. And enough
music of that note, Pet could be our Harper, too." He joins in the
applause, tipping his chin in agreement. "Oh, but there she goes. Good
night, young one. I'm not sure I'd survive another evening of those shots.
Had my turn at the firestone pits after, if you know what I mean." A
knowing look and a pat of his stomach confirm the worst there. "But I'd
hold the trosseau anyhow, as I'm not one to foresake an agreement. Though I
promise, if you two start in with any *sacred* jigs right here, I'm so
feigning death. And maybe actually dying. Not sure I could take that. I
might have to root for Lhiannonth." As Vel rises, T'bay scrutinizes. "Have
you gotten taller, young man? Or did I already ask you that on my last
visit?--Ohh, dawn sweeps. I'm sure Vel'd fight to sign up for that." The
brownrider tries to smile weakly back at Yselle, taking a shrug as better
than nothing.

Kassima has the grace to color a fraction for selfsame brashness, but her
eyes are as bright as their dark green shade can allow on his. "We can't
have that," she's certainly willing to agree. "Headed out, Vel? Or just
working out the stiffness from these benches?" Petrusa is then claimed, and
a low, rueful chuckle escapes the greenrider. "The plots of Telgarians
t'corrupt the youth, spoiled again. Charming child. And bright! Aye, Ys,
pretend only; 'tis nay true death I'd wish on you or T'bay either, or...
well, I *might* almost wish it on T'van. Almost." She can only shake her
head for the message delivered. "Oof. In that case, T'bay, I'm glad we
didn't end up sleeping at the table with you after all. And... should I
ever *actually* wish you dead, 'twill keep that in mind. 'Twould be the
most creative way of killing someone in the whole history of ever."

"Bye bye!" V'lano echoes the little girl's farewell, raising his hand to
wave after her, and only looks a little disappointed once she's gone.
"What's that about dawn sweeps?" A rueful grin is angled toward Y'selle on
that, followed by, "I don't know. Soon, I think. I brought down a bunch of
the candidates to visit them a couple nights ago, and we'll do it again if
the rain lets up some." He lifts a hand to the back of his neck, rubbing at
the slightly damp curls pasted down there, stealing a sidelong look at
T'bay while his shoulders round. "Why do you keep asking me that? I could
ask if you've gotten meaner," he teases back, emphasizing particularly the
closing jab of, "Young man." A few steps might confirm Kassima's question,
though they serve firstly to take him closer to the wingleader's side,
where he just sort of lurks about as if in orbit. "You know, I still don't
know who her parents are! She calls me - well, you heard." He drops his
hand from his neck and worries fingers at the bottom hem of his jacket. "I
guess she can't pronounce it yet."

"Oh Tel's not so bad," Yselle says. "He'd make a good cabin boy, you know.
No, I lie, he'd make a terrible cabin boy, I don't think that man could
pick up his own socks, even if you threatened him with death by feeding him
to the sea monsters. He'd worship the captain properly though, well, until
he got bored and found a nice sailor to entertain him. - Should I ask about
those shots?" Apparently she decides against it, because she chooses this
moment to answer V'lano, "Well you know, being /your/ wingsecond and all,"
she reminds him, "I'm sure I could manage to pull some dawn sweeps for you
if you were really desperate. Just think of how all your wingmates would
adore you, taking them off their hands," she almost manages a straight face
for that, adding for T'bay's endorsement, "See? So I'll talk to K'ran when
I get home, hm? Oh, by the way, at least one of those messages needed a
reply, didn't it? I'm here occasionally visiting Em, so if you want me to
pick them up... course," she angles a glance at Kassima, "I'm not here as
often as some of your visitors."

T'bay aims to explain, "You have to admit, I'm just an innocent holdbred
boy, still blind to the wiles of dragons and riders and the racous lives
they lead--but at least T'van hasn't got it about for me. That'd surely
drive me to my grave early. My sympathies, Wingleader." Though his smirky
smile suggests he's little of that to offer. "And no, the shots were bad
news, honest." His smile fades slowly from his face, the words of his
holdmate settling over his shoulders as a heavy mantle. "Yeah, I suppose I
have, at that. I...yeah." His breath exhales heavily, his brows furrowing
and the skin around his lips twitching. "I'm...sorry."

"Just wait until the rain turns t'snow," Kassima murmurs, wry, her eyes
drifting towards the eggs to give them a sympathetic look. "Poor
dragon-babies. But they'll nay know it, warm in the shells, and Volath and
Lhiannonth will protect 'em." She's grinning already for the teasing taking
place, and it softens, brightens into a smile when the bronzerider
approaches her and she reaches in an attempt to catch one of his hands in
hers. Her head tilts in an unvoiced query--likely as to whether he'd like
company, if he's indeed headed out. "What does she call you? Methinks I
missed it. T'van as a cabin boy terrifies me, Ys. As to the shots, T'bay
and Vel and I went to the Lounge one night and drank a few, as an
introduction to the art. He managed four!" Such pride in her voice. There's
a grin for her last comment rather than anything like denial; and she
assures T'bay, "Just wait. He'll long for you eventually. As sure as water
douses fire. Then the Weyr can dance non-sacred jigs around both our
piteous corpses." Although V'lano's new nickname is clearly not all she
missed, she sends T'bay a sympathetic look regardless, some concern for her
Wingmate dimming her expression.

Yselle's 'threat' gets V'lano's attention, and he returns it with a
murmured, wide-eyed, "Of course you could. Ah, wingsecond. I just - I mean,
I figured I would be getting them anyway, since I've been away so long - "
Beat. Back to T'bay. "No, no - I didn't mean it like that, T'bay. Not
seriously. I meant - " Beat two. He tilts his head toward Kassima, his hand
squirming a bit in hers, though clingingly, as if to something firm in a
storm. "Ah. Never mind. I'll explain later." The panic widening his eyes,
framed between those long lashes, doesn't completely dull the color rising
again in his cheeks, and he comes full circle to stare helplessly at the
Icewind greenrider a final time. "I'll - have to look them over more
closely, ma'am. Maybe I should go do that now so I can send a message back
with. Someone. Soon." His fingers slip free of Kassima's after a final
strangling squeeze, and with a tip of his fingertips to his temple for the
Weyrsecond and a wave for his oldtime friend, V'lano flees.

Yselle just offers V'lano a teasing grin. "Well if you want them, I'm sure
we can manage them for as long as you like," she says. "Just let me know.
K'ran /will/ be pleased at your enthusiasm." She does, however, allow that
smile to soften for a moment, she heads over to mutter something to the
bronzerider in a low voice before he leaves. That of course, takes her
close enough to Kassima to say, "Four? Well, looks like you're educating
your riders, Kassi, do you have him on fertility watch yet?" that sends a
glance T'baywards, and she even manages a teasing smile there, although it
doesn't touch her eyes. "Really Kassi, have /any/ of your new recruits
spawned yet? I wouldn't want to think Thunderbolt had lost its touch. I
think, really, that it's /your/ fault. If you'd just get pregnant again,
it'd light a fire under them."

T'bay, his expression more somber than it's been since he and Sarevith
first attempted a trip *between*, waves a listless farewell to V'lano, then
moves toward the railing, resting against it and looking straight downward
at the eggs, knowing he's rather deserving of the worst to be said.
Quietly, he murmurs, "Why do I have a hankering for a few more of those
deadly shots right about now?"

Kassima's concern finds new focus on V'lano, surprise edging in to turn it
into increasing dismay for his discomfort. While his hand still clasps
hers, she holds firmly, squeezing back, responsive to the need even if not
understanding it. "As you wish, Vel, a'course," she agrees, and lets his
hand go in the end to fall onto a bench-seat and watch after him with
nothing short of bewilderment. Bewilderment and worry. "Shells. I hope I...
shells. He was teasing you, methinks, T'bay, nay meaning it in such
seriousness. I could be wrong, but methinks 'tis so. Mayhaps he just needs
the rest of the evening to himself." She surreptitiously wriggles the
fingers that were held so tightly, and glances down at them with bemused
eyes. "I don't know. Fertility--? Oh." She summons a grin. "Afraid there's
nay luck there. The man has a fondness for contraceptive tea. Lani and
Trii, methinks, are in nay hurry either, and if'n A'tan's spawned he's
keeping it secret still--" Excuse her while she breaks off to choke over
that last, however. "Pregnancy means grounding," she eventually settles on
as response; that and a nice flush of color. She clears her throat and
turns to address T'bay more softly. "That happens. Teasing taken wrong...
you'll straighten it out, probably within a minute of the next time you see
each other. But if'n you're serious about the shots, methinks they could be
managed."

V'lano walks down a short flight of steps and heads out through the
entrance to the bowl.

Yselle watches V'lano leave, thoughtful. "Hm, never seemed to stop you
before," she says, teasing again. "You've still got a couple to go if you
want to outdo I'sai." She pauses for a moment, and glances over. "If it
weren't for L'cher - has /he/ got any more on the way yet? - I'd despair
entirely of you. Whatever happened to that girl who liked A'tan so much?"
she glances over now, at the pair that Kassima and T'bay make, and just
shrugs, not entering into that discussion.

T'bay slowly turns to face the pair of greenriders, resting his weight
against the railing and his elbows there as well. "I'd hope, in some cases,
teasing taken wrong could be worked out more quickly than that? Especially
when the teaser was just really inconsiderate of the other person's
feelings." A somber gaze drifts from V'lano's exit toward his Wingleader,
then to the Weyrsecond, hovering there, leaving his previous words almost
pleading before he studies his shoes again. "Indeed. Some of us who are
still children probably oughtn't be aiming to sire any time soon. I need to
get myself figured out first, and I seem to be having a little trouble with
that."

"I didn't have someone I wanted t'spend time visiting a'fore," Kassima
reasons, pragmatic and momentarily smiling. "I could still have more
children. I'm just nay exactly trying for it. Which lass is this? I didn't
even know there was one in particular." She shifts on her own seat to face
T'bay likewise. "It may nay have helped that I don't think you were the
only one who said something off. I did too, although I'm nay sure quite
what. And nay for the first time... and it looks as if'n you've mayhaps had
a wrong thing or two said yourself. We're a mess tonight. But don't sell
yourself short, T'bay. The best people in the world take things wrong and
say things taken wrong, because we're human, and misunderstanding each
other wildly is all a part of that."

"I know what you mean; that was difficult when I was having Roselle,"
Yselle says, looking out at the sands again. "Oh well, it won't be so long
now?" she offers Kassima an encouraging smile. "It does seem like a long
time, when the eggs are on the sand, doesn't it?" There's a pause, and she
says, "You can't always choose when you'll have your children." Quieter,
sitting and hugging her knees to her, she says, "Tel's always putting his
foot in it too. Everyone does it."

T'bay's lips come together, obliterating any trace of perking at the edges.
"That's probably a good way to put it. A mess tonight. I hope you're right,
Kassima, that it will clear up on the morrow." One hand raises, wipes at
his brow. "It seems, in a way, like so long ago that we--that Vel, and I,
and the rest, were down there on Telgar's sands, moving among the eggs. And
then, sometimes, it seems like no time has passed at all. But things are so
different." He moves foot to foot, as though channeling the heat from below
and recalling the warmth of the sands. "And what does everyone do to get
their feet out of it?" he softly wonders.

Kassima agrees, giving the eggs a thoughtful look, "Probably nay very long.
D'you know, though, in a way 'twill miss it. I've met interesting people
while visiting here. Some of whom I might be gladder t'never see again, but
some of whom I'm glad t'know. And it's been something different--I've seen
clutchsire-riders who had women from home paying visits, but I've never
been one of 'em." Imagine such a thing. To the next point she also agrees:
"True enough. I suspect I travel too much these days for it t'be likely,
truth be known. But 'twill throw up over that bridge when I come to it."
Ah, phrasing. "You might seek him out soon," she offers to T'bay with a
hint of sobriety. "Nay let it sit and fester long a'fore you talk. I don't
think either of you are *mad* at each other? Just seems that things got
awkward. Impression... and adulthood, sometimes... do tend t'make life more
complicated." She gives him a wry grin. "Apologize. Eat humble pie. Or at
least explain, and talk, and hope."

Yselle glances over at the other two, but at Kassima's words shrugs
ruefully, and hugs her knees to herself even tighter. "Well, maybe that's
true - about the travelling. If you two want to have children, there's time
after the eggs have hatched, I guess. You're lucky that it doesn't take you
so long, Kassi, when you try."

T'bay nods, the simple and repeated gesture indicating agreement with
Kassima's suggestions. "True, about the apologies." After chewing his lip a
moment, he adds, "Sometimes, people say something that they mean to be
funny, and it is really hurtful. But the say-er doesn't realize it is
hurtful until after it's out. But then, it's too late. So the say-er can
try to apologize, for the things he said that were mean, and hope that the
hear-er hears him when he tells her he's sorry." He still hangs back from
the subject of children, that not being a comfortable topic in any way,
shape or form, and while his brow raises at the idea of V'lano siring
offspring, hey, his dragon's done it, so who's to say T'bay's a good judge
of his onetime friend's proclivities? Instead, T'bay turns back out to the
sands. "Interesting people here, hm? I've only met a few people who hail 
from this weyr in total, honestly."

Eilidh wanders up into the stands from the entrance to the bowl.

"I, err, don't know that we *want* to have children. We've never exactly
discussed it," says Kassi, bemused. "And I've never *tried*. All m'children
have been happy accidents." So, what, they were all fathered by Bob Ross?
"I assume any future children I have would be the same, if'n I have any."
When T'bay starts theorizing, she slews a thoughtful look between him and
Yselle, and says only, "'Tis nay always taking out the sting, an apology,
but knowing that 'twas meant as a tease--that the person who said it
doesn't really feel that way, I'm guessing you mean?--can ease it
considerably. Which few? I've met... probably only a tiny fraction of those
who live here, a'course, but a handful. And I knew Emilly and M'rek a'fore,
naturally."

"Emilly's from here," Yselle echoes. "You know her," slower, she says,
"Sometimes there's a lot of truth in jokes, though. If it's the truth, then
there's no point in hiding it." She studies her hands, "best to hear it,
and get it over with."

T'bay, who stands near the railing at the bottom of the galleries, is
facing away from the greenriders, looking out over the sands. "That's what
I meant. To say it wasn't an ill-meant tease," mumbles the orangeybrown
haired boy. "If that helps any." After Yselle speaks, T'bay's face takes on
a red shade, and he studies his shoes as if they were suddenly interesting.

Kassima shakes her head. "Emilly's from Telgar; that's how I know her. She
came here when G'rad Impressed... or mayhaps when he was Searched. I forget
which just now, t'be honest with you. But she grew up at Telgar. I saw her
just the other night... stopped in on the day of the egg-touching, how's
that for timing. Anyway. 'Tis true that there can be truth, Ys, but whether
the person meant that truth t'wound or meant t'make light of that truth and
laugh at it with you is different." She nods towards T'bay now. "Take
something you said, T'bay--sorry t'use you as example--at the Lava Lounge
when 'twere drinking shots. D'you recall? Something about how nay anyone
can wield a small, sharp knife t'cut so well as me? I thought you might
mean m'teasing, and be saying that sometimes I hurt with it, and that
distressed me. But you didn't seem upset with me, nor did Vel; so I figured
out 'twas a jest and nay insult. If'n you'd been unhappy enough with me
t'want t'hurt me, 'twould have been clear in other ways. Wouldn't you have
thought so, Ys?" She's seated on one of the Gallery seats, near Yselle, not
too far from T'bay, and despite addressing the other greenrider, seems to
be watching her younger Wingmate. "And, y'know, 'twas less the potential
insult that upset me than the thought that you might think that of me.
Because I like you and care about your opinion. So if'n someone were t'be
hurt by some offhand comment, say, it might just be a sign of sorts that
they care about your opinion too."

The heavy thud of boots is heard before Eilidh is seen, the girl's lanky
figure visible from around the small crowds of people. She looks
momentarily lost, a bit confused, and begins to trek down the front row,
fingers reached out to trail against the railing. Spotting likely folk, it
becomes very clear shortly that the fact that she doesn't recognise most
any of them except one isn't going to deter her from calling out a
cheerful, "Hallo!" She does stop before she runs smack into T'bay, a bright
grin splitting her face. "Ist.. I mean, Telgar's duties, but I guess I
don't need to do that to you really," she muses aloud. "Cause you're from
Telgar and all that, and you don't need your own Weyr's greetings." She'd
babble on if there was anything more to say, it's clear from the continual
fish-like way her mouth purses and draws back in.

"Well," Yselle says, not looking at either of them, "I expect if you did
mean to hurt someone they'd know by how you acted, but maybe you meant what
you said, and it hurt them anyway." She looks up, now, and says quietly,
"people have to hear things, sometimes, that hurt them. It's the way of
life. So, maybe they should just not care so much about things, and get on
with things." Glancing over at the commotion, she says, "Hey Eilidh, I
thought you'd still be settling in. You've found where all the Telgari have
snuck off to then. Have you met everyone?" In a kind tone, she adds, "I
remember how hard it was for me at first, remembering to give the right
duties."

Kaelyn wanders up into the stands from the entrance to the bowl.

At the example situation from his Wingleader, T'bay flinches, his shoulders
tightening though he knows her explanation to be sound. He mistakes the
approaching footsteps, and he turns around, his eyes narrowed, expecting to
find one of the others come close enough to perhaps smack him upside the
head. "Aw, come on, Yselle. You know I had a nice time with you. I wouldn't
lie about it, or even say so to spare your feelings. But I told you--you
were like a sister to me, and I had to figure that out, too. I was just
trying to preempt V'lano's comments cause I thought they'd be worse, but I
realize now that coming from me was the worst of all." Quite belatedly, he
realizes that he doesn't know this stranger wishing him Telgar's duties,
and that she isn't Yselle, and that he hasn't been smacked. He blinks at
her, wide-eyed, stunned into a momentary silence. "Uh. Hi." Some recovery,
though he can't help but half-smile at her fishlip antics. "I'm T'bay,
brown Sarevith's, current keeper of the dungheap."

Kassima's brows climb up, trying to reach her hair, as the Telgar
contingent is so addressed. Her eyes flick to Eilidh's shoulderknot.
"Transfer?" she murmurs to Yselle. But she doesn't wait for an answer
before lifting a hand to wiggle her fingers to Eilidh in friendly fashion.
"G'deve, g'deve." The rest of what Yselle says gets her a sidelong look.
The Wingleader's expression is hard to read, neither agreeing nor
disagreeing--this changes when she looks back to T'bay, her face and eyes
softening visibly in compassion. "I didn't bring that up t'bother you,
T'bay, shells. More because--what I *thought* you said is right, really. I
do hurt people sometimes with teasing. 'Tisn't your fault that I took it
too seriously. He has a point, Ys--Vel would *so* tease him, given an
opening; they are terrible, terrible in their teasing of each other," but
her grin gives 'terrible' a complimentary spin. "Kassima, green Lysseth's,"
she belatedly adds to the melee of introductions. "Well met."

The blonde tilts her head to the side, a sweep of the warm coloured hair
dropping over her shoulders. "Hey, Yselle sir!" Light laughter bubbles, and
she shakes her head, shrinking her shoulders into the depths of her flight
jacket, "Ma'am, I mean. Not that you look like a sir, it's just B'rakis is
well A'ley, well." The dark cheeks fluster, and her hands run aimlessly
around to explain before she just gives up, smiling weakly, "Jays, I'm
never going to get used to this cold here or there or anywhere. I figured
if I was that far north, it wouldn't be as bad to visit High Reaches and
whatya know." The same exuberance of before lights up her face, and she
moves to give the other woman a half-hug, one arm extended towards the
thick-browed woman. To T'bay, she fairly beams, offering a slim hand for
the other brownrider, including Kassima in her lightheartedness, "Eilidh,
brown Cayetath's, current keeper of naught but myself, and even that,
according to Cay, is questionable. Was that your brown out there? I don't
recognize any of the dragons out there t'all, but I suppose that's because
well, I don't know many dragons. Which would make it all make sense, I think."

Kaelyn steps into the galleries and looks around at the crowd. She nods
politely to each and smiles as she recognizes Yselle. "Reaches duties to
Telgar and her queens. I'm Kaelyn, bluerider of Nepenth out there." She
pulls her jacket down a little and looks out at the sands with a smile.
"How is everyone this evening."

Yselle glances at T'bay, her face aflame. "Never mind," she says awkwardly,
not meeting his eyes. "Yeah, I guess," that to Kassima, "Actually, I'd
prefer my private relationships kept private," that's a little repressing,
both to wingleader and her wingrider. Right now she looks like she could
sink into the sand quite happily. "V'lano and he do tease eachother a lot,"
she stands up and walks to the ropes to stare out at the eggs, and
reverting to the other subject, says, "Eilidh's just joined us from Ista,
yes. I'm sure you'll get to know Kassima and T'bay much better once you
settle in." She looks rather startled at the hug, but doesn't resist it,
adding belatedly, "Hey Kae."

T'bay has the decency to flush after his efforts at an overly-worded
explanation are complete, and he puts out one hand to shake Eilidh's hand
when she offers it, oblivious and dumbed by her cheer despite his little
outburst. "I didn't mean it that way, Wingl--Kassima. I meant during the
flight, with the knife and all and ...I get into the more trouble because
of that lunk's chasing habits, I swear." He sighs heavily, then shakes his
head to Eilidh. "I think Sare's off on his own, mostly giving me grief for
everything he can think of, so you might not've seen him, but I've been
rather poor at keeping tabs." He adds his 'duties to Kaelyn, then pounds on
the railing with a fist, frustrated, as his words to Yselle have the
opposite of the desired effect. "Fine. Private. Yes Ma'am."

Kassima's nod and smile to Eilidh are a bit bemused, but genuine. "Well
met," she repeats. "We're here visiting V'lano and gawking at his dragon's
clutch down there, I do believe. You're welcome enough t'gawk right along
with us. Evening, Kaelyn; Telgar's duties." Her eyes are quick to flick to
Yselle, though. "Then mayhaps," she suggests, carefully and pitched quietly
enough to not carry far, "you should have a caution in teasing others about
theirs? Such as pointing out to V'lano that you don't visit so much as
others do, and looking at me? I don't mind, but if'n you'd rather yours
weren't mentioned...." She lets that trail off in favor of giving T'bay an
emphatic nod. "I understand now, I do. Don't stress! And for what 'tis
worth, Lyss and I are honored that you chased her. Don't ever feel badly
for that. And if'n you want t'tease me about it, then feel free. I like
teasing. So tease about whatever you want and 'twill tease back, and we'll
both let each other know if'n something stung, how's that?"

Yselle flickers a glance at Kassima and says, "Fair enough," she pauses,
and mutters lower, "Actually, Kassi, I think it's very nice, you and him.
As for T'bay, after a pause, she gives in enough to say, "Do you need a
lift back to Telgar?" she's watching him steadily as she asks it.

When T'bay takes up her hand, the brownrider's fingers clasp it in a firm,
rather bouncy shake, the other coming from around Yselle to clasp over his
briefly. Then, the clasp falls apart to resume it's fidget in the air,
"You're all rather red-faced today," she observes in a fashion way more
astute than normal for her, distracted quickly by Kassima's mention of eggs
on the sands. Eilidh turns to flash the Telgarian greenriders grins and
points out at one of the numerous gray eggs out there. "I used to have a
theory," she begins, head turning over her shoulder to glance at Kaelyn,
"That little painters inside the dragons would paint the eggs as it came
out. But then if that happened, I supposed the painters in Lhiannonth's
ovipositer had the day off, or ran out of nice colors." And to cap off her
theory, she beams triumphantly at Kaelyn, hailing the bluerider with a,
"Telgar's duties." She remembered the Weyr, see.

T'bay decides to turn back toward the sands at that moment, biting down
hard on his lip to keep back his emotions, and he takes a few deep breaths,
causing a shuddering of his shoulders while he works at erasing the red
from his face. He even lets out a disbelieving little cough of a laugh as
Eilidh describes the egg-coloring theory, "Maybe she likes blues and grays
better than any other colors? Or maybe she's color blind and can only see
those shades?" After this foray into silliness, he then turns slowly toward
Kassima. "That sounds a plan, ma'am." So serious is he that he forgets to
remove the ma'am from his addressing of his Wingleader, and he considers
Yselle's words for a long moment, his words sincere. "I should try to set
things right with V'lano before leaving, but thank you for the offer, Ma'am."

Kaelyn steps away from the group realizing that they are involved in a
conversation. She leans and looks over at the eggs and smiles. Her green
eyes scan the sands and begin to count to herself quietly.

The smile that crosses Kassi's face this time is a bright one,
affection-softened. "Aye, well, so do I, although I don't know 'tis so much
of a him-and-me as that. We really aren't off planning children or the
like. I'm tempted t'mention t'him that the idea came up, only methinks I've
said enough things t'discomfit him lately." For this, her tone turns wry.
"--Painters. In Lhiannonth's... ovipositer. Ah. Huh. Well. D'you know,
methinks you need t'meet her rider, Josilina," she suggests to Eilidh after
a moment spent blinking and another moment spent trying not to laugh. "I
don't know her so well, but methinks she might enjoy that theory. She'd
definitely agree about the colors. M'self, I don't think grey's so bad."
It's probably no surprise that she's more serious again in her nod to
T'bay, but a smile flickers regardless. "Kassi," she corrects. "Still
Kassi. Nay a bad notion, that, about Vel. If'n you go tonight, mayhaps ask
him... nay, I should ask m'self, or have Lyss do it."

Eilidh takes in T'bay, and then the other Telgarian riders. The frown that
emerges is small and not so much a frown as much as funny contorted form of
a puzzled look. It's wiped away by Kassima's words on her theory, that
levity returning to her posture, "Really? Everyone usually just laughs, or
ignores me about it, but how else do they come out all colourful?" Her lips
part, as if to speak more, and then close again, the blonde turning several
shades of rose. "Well, I can't say that, cause it's just kind of
disgusting, but dragons aren't always so colourful like that." She glances
at Yselle, face blankly awkward, "You're leaving already? But I don't know
anyone here yet, except T'bay and Kassima," as if she fully expects
Dianneth's rider to introduce her to everyone in the galleries. Her next
words give her pause at the end, face marring indecisively between cheerful
and hesitant, "I'll see you back at home then." Kaelyn is spared another
look, the congenial blonde waving over to the bluerider, "We don't bite.
Really, I don't, and I assume they don't."

Yselle sighs. "Fine," she mutters. "I.. come over here for a sec," she
tells T'bay, softening it with a "Please." For Eilidh, she explains, "I
don't know everyone here, oh that's Kaelyn, Nepenth's rider," indicating
the bluerider from 'Reaches. Kassima's words just elicit a wry tug of her
mouth.

T'bay nods to Kassima, not wanting to accidentally miscarry a message at
this juncture. He looks again to Yselle, hesitates long enough to consider
what it might be that the newly transferred brownrider is thinking of as
alternative ways for dragons to get colors, then makes a face as he thinks
of a few, then schools in the expression, taking a few steps toward Yselle
until the duo are a few paces from the group, enough to exchange quiet
words without being overheard or being additionally publicly disruptive. He
dips his head, not able to look at her. "Yes'm?" he says, quietly, an
errant child awaiting chastisement.

"It probably has something t'do with chemicals, I'm afraid. 'Twas a theory
I heard a Smith give once. So-and-so much copper might create blue; so
much... shells, I can't remember what the other things where. He went on at
some length," Kassi confesses, pulling a wry face. "A'course we don't bite.
Nay unless most grievously provoked. Or unless you're a sandwich; in that
case, I make nay the least of promises." Although she doesn't say anything
further to T'bay at this moment, the look she gives him is encouraging, and
as supportive as a wordless look can be.

Telgar Weyr> Yselle says, "Kassi bites!"

Kaelyn chuckles softly and straightens up. "I considered that you were all
engaged in a private conversation and that I was intruding. I am a rider
here at Reaches. Its nice to meet you. I hope you find everything here to
your liking. I'm sure that there is something in the living cavern." She
smiles warmly to the group.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "When grievously provoked, or if you're a
sandwich. Seems reasonable enough. ;)"

The explanation of smiths and chemicals goes right over Eilidh's head, the
big blue eyes blanking nicely as the girl just nods in vague understanding
at Kassima. "Um, I see. Totally, I think. I'm not very good with chemicals
or smiths, I mean, anything like that." The dark blue-eyed girl watches
T'bay move off with Telgar's weyrsecond and shrugs. "I suppose they have
serious grown up things to talk about," she offers as an aside to Kaelyn,
"I'm a rider at Telgar now, and you have a lovely Weyr." It's solemnly
spoken, with a good touch of cheer, "Thanks, but I'm not really hungry or
thirsty. Kassima?"

Yselle leans a bit closer to talk to T'bay in a low voice, her expression
frustrated, her fingers fidgetty; for a moment she seems oblivious of the
conversation going on around her, glancing back now and again as though
checking to see if they can be overheard.

T'bay sighs softly, leaning inward to murmur back and forth with Yselle.

Kassima looks away from her shameless watching of Yselle and T'bay long
enough to shake her head in demurral. "Oh, nay; thankee, but nay. I'm fine
for now. Might stop by later t'grab something, depending."

Kaelyn smiles once again at the group and puts her hands into her pockets.
"Well it was nice of you to come to Reaches. Nice to see you again Kassima
and Yselle." She glances out towards the bowl, "I guess I should be going.
Nepenth is needing me."

Eilidh is happily oblivious to badness, it piques her interest for just a
moment before sliding off her back like the proverbial duck she is. With
Yselle out of the way, Eilidh steps backwards to fall into the seat left
free, and swings an arm around the other greenrider brightly. "So, tell me
about my new home. It's colder than Ista, from what I can tell, and I know
I'm not smart, but that much is obvious. What're the Weyrleaders like,
that's a Telgar bronze out there, isn't it? I think Cay's sire was from
Telgar, his offspring was kind of vicious. I wonder if his will be too."
She waves to Kaelyn, "You should come visit us sometime! We're nice and
don't bite unless you're a sandwich, like Kassima said."

Telgar Weyr> Yselle says, "Tempt not the wrath of Kassima, for thou art
small and taste good with ketchup. :)"

Telgar Weyr> Eilidh squirrels herself away, "I do not taste good with
ketchup. Promise."

Telgar Weyr> Yselle says, "Mustard?"

Telgar Weyr> Eilidh says, "Horseradish sauce."

Telgar Weyr> Eilidh says, "But you didn't hear that from me"

Kaelyn grins at Eilidh and chuckles before heading out. "Well I do head out
there. My son A'tan is a rider there. Well met. See you all later."

Yselle looks up long enough to say, "Clear skies, Kae; you know Kassi's
A'tan's wingleader, don't you?" she's rubbing between her eyebrows with a
thumb as if she has a headache. She looks over at Kassima, and then flops
back on the rope that seperates the galleries from the bowl.

Kaelyn nods to Yselle, "Yeah he told me that. Good luck Kassi. He's a
handfull."

Kaelyn walks down a short flight of steps and heads out through the
entrance to the bowl.

Kassima can be colored somewhat nonplussed by the abrupt physical contact
from someone still a stranger, and her eyebrows take a jump up, but if she
doesn't exactly sling her arm around the other rider in exchange, she
doesn't pull away either. "You'd do best t'be forming an opinion of the
Weyrleaders on your own, I'm thinking," she says after a moment, with a wry
grin. "But Telgar's all right. Nigh as cold as *between* sometimes--and
you're coming in during winter, for which you have m'sympathy--but the
food's good, and our Wings are Pern's best. Naturally." She does deadpan
this a bit. "His sire... oh, he's one of Chezroth's? Chezroth's of our
blood. Though Sandy hasn't flown with us in long and long, the stars know.
We've met," she turns to confirm to Ys with a bob of her head. "A time or
two. Good t'see you too, Kaelyn. M'regards t'your lifemate."

If Eilidh notices, it doesn't change her friendly smile, and the arm
doesn't remain around Kassima very long, instead moving animatedly to point
out, to Faranth knows who, an egg of autumn's change on the sands. "That
one's gorgeous. Admittedly, not as pretty as Cay's egg, I have shards at
home if you want to see, but it's pretty enough. I bet a brown comes out of
there. A pretty amber-touched brown with a long wrappy tail." The
explanation of Weyrleaders and Telgar is taken in, and she nods, "I've met
Tarien and K'ran, and they seem nice enough. Tarien's pretty," she adds
wistfully, a blink bringing her back to focus on Kassima, "And you're
pretty as well. I'm surrounded by beautiful people all the time, and all I
have is my dumpiness and a funny, pushed in nose." Her seated self begins
to bounce idly along the edge of the galleries, and she turns to give
Yselle and T'bay another look, searching for a tell of their discussion,
"They look quite serious."

T'bay gives one last look to Yselle, reassuring, and he manages a
half-smile along with some gentle words. "You might try the hot springs for
the headache? The steam could help to lighten it some." His eyes follow
Kaelyn's exit, nodding recognition of A'tan's mother, chagrin for his
public behavior of the evening. "I ought apologize all around for my
childishness, I think," he comments, his voice lifting in a semblance of
its usual self, "someone should share about what bets have been taken on
these eggs. If I go to see V'lano with any extra marks in my pocket, he'll
triumph them right out of me in a single game of dragonpoker."

"K'ran gathers the shells after hatchings," Yselle says idly, still staring
moodily at the eggs. "And we have them put into rings for the weyrlings."
She holds out her hand to Eilidh, the one with the ring in question on it.
"Dianneth's was... bright." She pushes herself off the ropes, and folds her
arms again. "I bet your lifemate's /was/ pretty though," that to Eilidh.
She nods for Kassima's words, "I wasn't sure if you'd met her. Nepenth's
chased Dianneth a couple of times, but I see her now and then when I'm
here, and of course, when she's visiting her son." To T'bay, she says,
"That's not a bad idea. I might soak it later."

Kassima doesn't seem particularly relieved--or disappointed--at the arm's
removal, and she obligingly looks towards the egg indicated. "If'n anyone
*isn't* partial to their dragon's egg, I'm fair sure they're breaking some
rule or code of honor--ah. Thankee? Thankee." The compliment catches her
off-guard too, it seems. It still wins a flashed grin. "Thankee," she
repeats. "Female beauty isn't m'area of expertise, but I don't think you've
aught t'be ashamed of. Blue eyes are nigh always beautiful. I suppose they
are... 'tis hearkening back t'that conversation that made everyone red, I
should think. T'bay, for Faranth's sake, you've been nay more childish than
I am eight days out of every seven. Come back and sit? I've taken... let's
see." It takes her a moment to dig a rolled hide from her pocket. "M'tri
has one mark saying the egg the color of summer skies is a green, and one
saying that one with the bit of yellow on it--y'see?--is blue. Lanisa
thinks that small greyish one with the pastel marks is blue and the
fabulous fuchsia frenzy is brown. Sria thought the one colored like seafoam
was brown. Vel, and also m'son Kaisan, are betting that the one that looks
kind of like rain is blue. I had a wager also on whether there'd be a gold
that hasn't been paid yet. Feel free t'rib Vel about that at some point.
He'll probably groan."

"Childishness is underrated." Eilidh smiles beautifully at the other
brownrider with a lopsided turn on her lips. She echoes Kassima's
invitation and pats the spot next to her, "Come and sit! I've already met
Yselle before with the Weyrleaders, and now I can meet you two, because
meeting people is very important. Ma always said that if I talked half as
much as I thought I'd be a smarter person, but I think talking helps make
friends." That and an overly affectionate nature. The draw of betting
brightens her up again, and she turns to blink at Kassima, "You bet? I bet!
I like betting, Cay likes betting, we're a match made for each other, for
sure, and I always knew the egg that he came out of was mine. I think I
knew, well, I'm sure I knew, but I'm sure I thought I knew." The
convulations over, she turns to peek at the indicated eggs, "I think the
summer skies one will hatch a green too, but the fuschia one will be a
blue." The last turn in conversation, makes her crane her neck to search
out the other eggs, "There's no gold out there, I think, and why'd I want
to rib Vel?"

T'bay admires the ring from a distance, as the duo are a few steps clear of
one another by now. "That is nice," he observes. "Does Dianneth, and
yourself, proud." To Eilidh and Kassi, he adds, "Did you say what your
lifemate's shell looked like? My, I don't even know if I can remember what
egg Sarevith came from. On hatching day, there were dragonets running wild
all over the place. Though it is probably a bad idea to admit I don't
know." At Kassima's suddenly present list of eggs and bets, his jaw draps.
A look of admiration, or perhaps disbelief, crosses his face. "Wowee. You
even keep the hide on you, just in case?" He looks out over the sands,
gestures to one that looks like brutal hail batters its surface. "Bronze.
That's the extent of my fortune-telling abilities. I'll mark a quarter one
at you, if I even own that much. Hah, I've heard it has to do something
with breakfast, but I could be mixed up. Speaking of him, I ought to go
after him pretty soon, before he's fast asleep, so I'll turn down the
offered seat, but thank you both for it."

"There's nothing wrong with your looks," Yselle says to Eilidh, slowly
returning to the others, but not /quite/ sitting with them; she seems
distracted now. "But you're right, Tarien and Kassima are very beautiful. I
think you're pretty too, though." - "I make a rule never to bet against
you, Kassima, you don't get all those lovely clothes out of nowhere." She
watches T'bay thoughtfully, just nodding, and says after a moment, "Oh, it
was a graduation present. Purple and green her egg was."

"I bet," Kassi confirms. For some reason, the question gets a flash of a
grin. "Every now and then. I've gotten a bit better with it over
time--'twas certain there was a brown in Lysseth's egg, t'my perpetual
shame. D'you want t'put any marks up? 'Tis T'bay who might like t'rib Vel."
With another grin she dips her chin to T'bay. "Lysseth's was almost
entirely bright, vivid crimson, fittingly enough. And she Hatched in a
somewhat... noticeable fashion. Screeched as soon as she was out. M'cousin
Thera Stood with me, though she didn't Impress that clutch, and she found a
piece of the egg and put it in a necklace for me. I have a few larger
pieces as keepsakes. M'graduation ring doesn't have shell-bits." She takes
a turn at displaying the ring, wiggling her right ring finger to make the
carat of emerald sparkle. "You never know when bettors will be there! One
quarter-mark on bronze, for the hail egg. You've got a deal." Another
rummage produces a piece of charcoal, with which she jots the note.
"Mmm-hmm. He's supposed t'make and serve me breakfast. Pass m'regards
t'him, would you? Thankee too, Ys... and alas, you're right. I almost
always have t'pay for them."

Eilidh squirms a bit under Yselle's scrutiny and has the grace to flush in
light of the weyrsecond's own looks. "Thank you, I think. But ma always
said she must've dropped me on my face a few too many times when I was a
baby, cause now it kind of squishes outward." She demonstrates too, her
hands pulling the baby fat lingering on her cheeks out. Eagerly, back to
Kassima, the brownrider pats down her pockets and mous a frown, "I don't
have marks with me right now, but I want to bet, the changing leaves
coloured one, or least what I expect changing leaves to look like. Leaves
don't change oft at Igen or Ista, but it looks sort of like how I imagined
it would. I want to put a half mark that that one will produce a brown."
She peeks over at T'bay again, that lopsided grin emerging from her betting
concentration, and as if recalling a previous conversation thread, she
offers cheerily, "If you need a ride back, I've no duties at Telgar, yet,
and can afford to stay here a bit longer until you finish talking?" Back to
Kassi, she questions, "So he makes you breakfast if there's a gold or no
gold?"

T'bay nods sagely, aware that his marks are probably lost the moment the
bet is spoken. The fool and his marks, easily parted. "I think the best
thing about a dragon? They love you no matter how you look." Sage words
from a boy still carrying a share of baby fat around his own face, his
clothing still a size larger than his current form, taken in in places by a
poor hand. "Screeched? How perfect. Though she should razz at you for
thinking her a brown. Couldn't see you on any other but Lyss, myself." He
nods toward the taken bets, a smile on his face. "Not sure which it is,
about the gold. One way or the other, someone gets fed, so it's a win-win,
as I imagine extras will be served." He considers Yselle's words as well,
"At least I didn't have to buy her ear baubles to get tapped. Though she
probably could've made me, if she'd tried." A moment of thought for the
duty-free brownrider's offer, "I'm not sure how long it'll take to find the
busy clutchfather's rider about, but if you're still here after I corner
Vel, I'd appreciate the lift. If you ladies will all excuse me? I should go
work on setting the first of things right."

Kassima suggests, "You can wager and I can collect from you later if'n you
should lose. You certainly don't have t'hand over the marks right now. Half
mark... autumn... brown...." Scribble, scribble, scribble. "Got it. He's
supposed t'make me breakfast because there was nay gold egg, aye." She
glances over towards T'bay and gives her Wingmate a wholehearted, brilliant
smile of agreement: "*Exactly*. Very wise, T'bay... and nay more could I,
nay at this point, if'n ever I could. Which a'course I couldn't from the
very moment she chose me. Right, too; I have t'do the cooking and serving
if'n there is a gold, but Lhiannonth would have t'have hidden the egg or
something. And 'twill have you know that the earbobs were just what Javi
already had!" She tosses her head up as if in indignation, but she winks
one sparkling eye at him, lest he think it serious. "'Tis the guest weyr--"
She gives some brief directions on how to find that particular weyr.
"That's where he most likely is. G'luck, T'bay. I don't think 'twill need
much."

Yselle is apparently enough used to the reactions to her looks to shrug
Eilidh's off, "I wouldn't be worried about it," she says. "You look fine; I
bet all the riders in your new wing will be chasing you, I know Tel will,
although I don't know if you'd /want/ him. I'm not so sure L'cher's much of
a catch either, but I bet you'll have a lot more choices than that. -
Y'know, T'bay, you don't have to worry about how you look either; I can't
imagine why you'd even think you would. Anyway, people would only have to
spend five minutes with you to realise you're a special person. - Hm, yeah,
well, Brynn just tapped me - no earbobs or anything. Good luck with
V'lano," she turns back to Kassima, and says, "Well, you have a /lot/ of
clothes Kassi."

Though weyrbred, Igen to be exact, Eilidh turns an even brighter shade of
red at Yselle's all too candid assessment. "Boys are boys. They don't
matter much in the range of things I bet. Unless they happen to like sweets
and chasing vtols all around Pern." She half-grins at the weyrsecond
greenrider, and shrugs, "I'm not a looker like 'llery or Danica are, it
doesn't matter usually." But the subject of looks is laid to rest, her
butterfly like attention drifting back to Kassima, T'bay, and betting. "So
if I win, how much will I get? Who else has bet on the egg?" She scans the
sands again and giggles, "She would have, if Vel.. V'lano was it? If he bet
there was a gold, it seems kind of foolhardy. Ma would say he's being an
overly proud papa though. Maybe his bronze knows something? Maybe? I think.
Possibly." To T'bay, she nods, stretching her arms back behind her head,
"I'll be lurking around the kitchens. I've heard the Reaches has different
sweets than at Igen." She lights up, "You should try the candied fruit my
ma makes sometimes."

T'bay pauses as he passes Yselle to give her a warmer smile. "Same to you."
It is accompanied by a 'death face' taught to them by a little earlier,
indicating he's hoping she'll take the comment as he means it, lightly, but
seriously. He nods appreciations to Kassima for the directions, "Don't
think I've had to look for those here, yet, though I hope Sarevith doesn't
get any ideas. Thanks, and miss? Stay clear of L'cher. She's not kidding
with that warning. Though," he breaks into a wider, more T'baylike smile
next, "boys are boys is the best I've heard yet. And I've never met a sweet
or a candy I didn't like." With that, he salutes the riders, wanders off.

T'bay walks down a short flight of steps and heads out through the entrance
to the bowl.

Kassima answers, "A half. I'm nay running pools so much as taking direct
bets for this one; would you rather nay wager, knowing that? I'm sure
there's someone at High Reaches who'd be running a pool--I haven't any
other bets on that egg anyway, yet. V'lano," she confirms on the other
topic. "I'm teaching him t'gamble. Sort of. They're lovely eggs, though...
methinks Volath has all right t'be proud. Even if'n some of 'em are grey."
Chuckling under her breath at T'bay's advice, she waggles the charcoal
stick after him, then says to Yselle, "Nay so many! Nay so many for the
day-to-day. I've been making these same tunics and slacks last for Turns."

"Tel tried to teach me to gamble once," Yselle says slowly, "It was a
complete disaster. I know better than to start with you, Kassi. "I'm going
to have to watch out for V'lano now, I see. Corrupting my wingriders! I
don't know, Kassi," but she offers the wingleader a warm, if tired simle,
and rubs her forehead again. "I think I /will/ soak this headache, and
Dianneth's nagging, got a snuggle-date apparently. I'm sure she must be the
only dragon who needs so much attention. Come and see me if you need any
help settling in, Eilidh, I'm sure we'll sort out your wing soon so you can
really settle down." And with that, she heads out, pausing to say something
in a low tone to Kassima, as she leaves.

You sense Yselle's expression is troubled. "I didn't mean to upset you with
my teasing about Vel. I just think it's very nice that you two are happy."

Yselle senses Kassima murmurs back, with a slight headshake, "You didn't.
I'm nay ashamed t'be with him, and he doesn't seem t'be ashamed of me...
but if'n you tease us, we're going t'tease back, aye? Good-naturedly." She
offers a wry smile. "Teasing's only fair if'n you're willing t'receive,
that's all."

Yselle walks down a short flight of steps and heads out through the
entrance to the bowl.

"Half. Hmm, so I don't make any." The consideration that runs through
Eilidh's mind is transparent, and she gazes from egg to egg. "I don't see
any other egg yet I want to bet on. Well, I could put down another half
mark that the egg T'bay said gives a bronze will push out a green. A nice
squawky green. But I'm not betting on what kind of green, just a green,"
she's quick to clarify. "I'll try to keep away from L'cher then," she nods
agreeably, "Two warnings is enough to hide away from him for me. I might be
daft, but not completely stupid." Her next mumble is a bit muted, "Though
ma may think so. Goodbye, Yselle! I'll see you at.. home," she concludes, a
thoughtful smile on her lips. "I hope you feel better. And I want to paint
one of the walls in my weyr, but I don't know if I can impose on your time,
so maybe.. well, if you want, sometime Cay could ask Dianneth if you're
free?" The question falls on deaf ears, what with the greenrider moving
off. "Meh."

Whatever Yselle murmurs causes Kassima to give a slight headshake,
whispering something back with a wry smile for the words. Once the other
greenrider has gone, she rocks back on the bench and brushes black hair
back from her eyes. "You do--a half," she tries to explain then. "You keep
your half, and get a half from me, because I'm taking your bet. Green's
what I think will come out of that egg too, but if'n you want t'set a mark
down I won't be saying nay. You're wanting Yselle's aid in painting?"

She's oblivious enough to not notice Yselle and Kassima's interlude and
prattles on a bit, "Telgar doesn't seem so bad from what I've seen. I think
I came to watch the hatching there a while back, and it happened so fast
but slower than when I was down there." She's about to continue when
Kassima's question pierces through her bubbly facade. "Well, anyone's
really," Eilidh's bright nature subdues a bit, and she wriggles in her
seat. "I wanted to ask Delaney to come and paint my weyr wall with me,
something to make it brighter and not so dreary, but she is wing busy, and
I don't know enough people at Telgar yet." For a moment, the angular face
turns dark and cloudy, blue eyes glazing over a bit, as many riders are
prone to. Slowly, she begins to speak, the sunnier side of her creeping
back in with each word, "It doesn't matter! I suppose I can just hop
around, bother people until they like me enough to come paint my weyr for
me. I can't sew, I can't paint, but I can bake muffins and cookies!" The
grin to Kassima is a vivacious as before, "So I'd gain half a mark from
you, and get my half mark back, and then if I bet against T'bay, I'd get
more marks if that egg produces a green." She nods to punctuate her
conclusion, "I can live with that. Oh! Cay wants to know if you mind him
betting too."

"Always the way. Or they've always seemed that way t'me, every one since
Lyss; and Lyss Hatched early, so I don't know whether that made it seem
even shorter than it does for most." Kassima's momentarily reminiscent,
clearly lost in a now-distant but always-clear Impression memory. "I
imagine you can be finding someone. 'Twill nay take you long t'meet people,
the stars know, particularly once you've been placed in a Wing. Can I ask
what led you t'transfer? If'n 'tisn't too prying? You certes can hop
around, though. Hop around Telgar, hop around anywhere." Though the last
gets a blink, she says, "So long as 'tis some currency 'twill accept. I
don't have much use for herdbeasts or the like."

Eilidh points out an egg, a milky white one with an icy edge to it. "Do you
see that one there? The white one sort of? He'd like me to bet some of my
marks for him, on that one." She nods twice decisively. "And he'll pay me
back with cuddles if I happen to lose marks, but if I win, he wants new
straps. He's decided as such. For a dragon, his memory is too long," she
adds, her nose wrinkled up. "But maybe it's cause I remember he remembers.
I'm not quite sure sometimes." The story of Impression is given another
nod, and a quick grin, "I hope I get placed soon, it'll be nice to start
working again, and oh! That's why I transferred. Well, sort of why. I like
traveling, or I think I do, I've never really traveled further than Igen
Weyr or Ista even. But it's the Interval, we think, at least there's been
no Thread for a little while now, and it's the perfect time to go visit
other Weyrs and learn new things, and maybe, one day, take it back to Ista.
Once I'm done learning." She leans her head towards the other greenrider to
confide sheepishly, "I'm not very good at the learning part though." Not
for lack of trying.

Kassima chews thoughtfully on her lower lip. "Is he wanting *me* t'make him
new straps if'n he wins? Or for me t'pay you marks, and then you make him
new straps? I don't really know his fittings. But Lyss is the same way,
remembering. What she doesn't recall for herself, she's only too happy
t'lift from m'head whenever she can." Although she rolls her eyes, there's
an inevitable affection in the words and gesture. She's quiet a moment or
two afterwards. Looking at the other woman in surprise. Eventually, she
says, "Well, and your Weyrleaders and ours approved this reason. It must be
well. I guess 'tis truly nay so important as 'twas, is it, staying in the
same Weyr t'fight."

"No, I make the straps," Eilidh giggles. "He's demanding on my time, not
yours. But either way, I suppose I lose. He's my life though," She sighs a
'such is life' sigh and falls back on her elbows. "No, I suppose not," she
replies simplistically, "But it'll give me a chance to see whether I learn
any better at Telgar than at Ista. I'm hopeful at least, and hope it'll
help balance Weyrs out." Her eyes glaze over again, this time with
ignorance, "But I didn't really pay too much attention when the Weyrleaders
of either Weyr explained it overly. It's nice to see different parts of Pern."

"Well and good. Repair straps for other dragons, I can do, when time
permits--as it scarce does these days--but make, 'twould nay want t'try."
Kassima has to grin at losing either way. "Mayhaps 'twill. An occasional
trading is beneficial, 'tis certes true, so there's that. I can't say I
envy you leaving warm Ista for the Icy Wastes in winter, but if'n naught
else... aye, I could see it as a learning experience." Is that slightly
mischievous? Surely not.

Eilidh tilts her head forward, and grins lazily, once again lopsided as it
seeks out its target in Kassima. "I foresee myself spending a lot of time
in the galleries until I adjust. I've never really seen much snow in my
life. We don't get snow down south." Or as south as Ista and Igen can get,
"And ma can't believe I've moved so far away, but honestly, it's a relief
to get 'way from her. She's too close at Igen for comfort, and too many
riders to back and 'forth between the two Weyrs for comfort." She heaves
herself forward and wriggles again, trying to get comfortable, "I think
I'll go get something to eat quickly and 'splore the Weyr a bit. If I get
placed soon, might not have the chance to run out again." She revels in her
lack of duties, really. "I'll see you back at Telgar?" A hopeful touch
lifts the last part of the statement into a question.

Kassima's chortle is appreciative. "Those and the hot springs should suit
best, aye, and you'll have company enough in both come winter--the Springs
particularly; 'tis insane t'wash a dragon in a frozen Lake. Mayhaps you can
learn the art of ice-skating this winter. I *completely* understand wanting
some distance from your mother, believe me." And by the feeling with which
she says that, one can safely do so. "Sounds like a plan. Probably will
have time *eventually*, a'course, but getting used t'new formations and
what-all tends t'keep one busy for awhile, I've heard. I imagine you will."
She flashes Eilidh a grin, and bobs her head once for further confirmation.
"Nay so much as some, with all the travel I've been doing of late; but
m'Wingmates only *wish* 'twere impossible t'find."

Eilidh beams in appreciation and bounds up to her feet, bouncing lightly on
the soles of her boots. "I'll see you later then, for sure! Maybe I can
someone convince you to help paint my weyr." She grins impishly, not
altogether certain the wingleader would even accept the offer even if it is
a tease. "Good luck with your betting! Cay and I approve highly," she
asserts, a sharp nod giving much credence to her compliment. "Good night!"
And with that same bounce to her step, she skips on across down the stairs.

Eilidh walks down a short flight of steps and heads out through the
entrance to the bowl.