The Dragonriders of Pern® is a trademark, Registered U.S. Patent & Trademark Office, of Anne McCaffrey. This is a recorded session, generated by Harper's Tale MOO on Thursday, December 28th, 2000 for the benefit of members unable to attend. Logged by Pyrene.

A Turnday to Remember

In the Galleries...

Pyrene is sitting on a ledge, studying the Sands and drinking alone. And it ain't redfruit juice either.

B'art yawns hugely, yellowed teeth glinting oddly against the glittery light of the sands. "Well, good evening, honey... and Pyrene." He's learned his lessons well. Can he have a bone? Heh heh heh.

Treneere walks in.

Siannen walks in.

Pyrene will give B'art something... "Evening B'art, Lis, Tre--where'd all you guys spring from?" she asks in sudden suspicion. Sudden and welcoming suspicion. "Want soemthing to drink?" she offers round various wineskins that she seems to have stocked up for some occasion.

Treneere follows Lis like a good little fosterling, although doesn't look exactly happy. "But /Liiis/, I don't wanna be here. The eggs are ugly. The dragons're ugly. What're we doing here? What're /you/ doing here?" Suspicious little gaze rests on Pyrene.

"What, I can't come to see the clutch of my most favorite goldrider?" wonders Lis in the best semblance of innocence - nevermind that Pyrene's the only goldrider she really /knows/ - complete with puppy eyes and the whole nine dragonlengths. "Trenny, there are kids in Igen who never even get to see any eggs, so stop complaining," barks the girl's fostermother just a bit snappishly.

Never one to decline alcohol -- or offer it, should the object of his attention need a little persuadint -- B'art scoops up one of the proffered skins and squirts a measured amount into his mouth in a smooth, obviously well-practiced motion. "Not that I'm gonna argue you away from drinkin', hun-- er, Pyrene, but why are you drinkin' so much?" All the other entering females get their very own dirty leer.

Pyrene gives Treneere a rather fuzzy glare before declaring: "I'm /supposed/ to be here. With my dragon. Supporting her in her time of need...." She's already been drinking, judging from the way she starts nodding along with Lis' statements. "It's my /turnday/, and I'm not leaving my post. I know my place, I do..." And it apparently includes drinking while being leered at.

Siannen has the cookies! Well, ones other than the ones she always carts around in her pockets, that is. "Heeeeya! Pyrene! How's Cadge?" Treneere is eyed warily, though that's nothing compared to the outright glare turned on B'art. "Look at me like that again, and you'll /need/ that wine..." She's short. Which might just come in handy. "Hey, Happy turnday, Pyrene...have a cookie." And a pint-sized bodyguard. Yeeeah.

B'art's swampy eyes light up with unsupressed glee. "Where do I line up to be the first to deliver your extra-special turnday kiss?" One eye rolls sideways, winking slyly at Siannen. Bring it on, baby.

Treneere shrinks just vaguely away from GrumpyLis, before squaring herself back into proper defiant tone. She will not clean her plate. She will not be content to have what others don't. So she looks curiously at her sister. "Your Turnday? I didn't know that." She looks almost sorry. Regretful. Etc. There was never a brat who could regret, but she can. She regrets. Sometimes.

Pyrene goes from rather sulky to outright radiant, and Cadge, who has been eyeing her rider rather askance, relaxes into a doze by her eggs. "Siannen, you're a darling. Thank-you," the goldrider sighs, holding her hand out for the cookies. "Oh! And yes. Turnday kisses. Everyone should kiss me unless D'renn shows up."

B'art is positively estatic. She /wants/ him to kiss her? Pudgy arms stretch out towards the goldrider, with the obvious intent of sweeping her off of her metaphoric feet.

Lis gives B'art what she hopes - at least - is a withering glance, muttering to the boy, "I'm weyrmated with no cause for complaint." Oh, but onto more happy things, like Turndays. Managing to resist the impulse to bravely volunteer herself first - got to be a role model for Trenny, you know - she can't help but inform Pyrene chirpily, "D'renn's a champion Turnday kisser. Maybe if you hadn't slapped him on my twentieth..."

"Except him. He can stay over /there/." Him being B'art. Siannen? Opinionated? Whoever heard of such a thing.... and so she's positioning herself in front of her obviously already more than a little drunk former nanny, decisively 'tween that one and B'art. Up go her arms, cookies-in-hand or no, blocking the bronzer's advance. "No." And the tone...'Do it and die, buddy.'

Lis? A role model? *insert snickers*

Enter Pern's shexsayest bluerider/poet/visionary/artiste. Yes, you know it. In a dramatic puff of smoke that comes from who knows where, F'ish emerges, tall, wiry, dark cape swishing about his slim form in an image that makes you blink twice. 'Neath purple tinted riding goggles, F'ish spots the crowd. "The sounds/ of voices/ come creeping crawling/ Hear them! ...yeaaaah...hi..."

Treneere looks half jealously at Siannen. A darling. "I'm cute, too," she points out to her sister, although shies away from that whole kissing thing, and instead grimaces at a passing trundlebug. "Yuck."

Pyrene's metaphoric feet are warm and toasty though... She peers at B'art in sudden thought. "Did we kiss? I mean, I know we..." glance to Trenny and she omits a few words, "But did we actually /kiss/?" Lis merely gets blinked at, while a hand rests on Siannen's shoulder: "S'OK, Siann, he knows the rules." She rather likes the protection though and beams at bronzerider from over bronze-head. And... "F'ish!" A clutchmate, if only a blueriding one.

Treneere goggles at F'ish's goggles. And the rest of him. "Wow," she says in soft idolatry. Can /he/ foster her, too? She could start a collection. "Who're you? Are you a /bronzerider/. Or is your dragon pink?"

"We did more than kiss, Sweetie Py..." B'art drawls, the memory of that night reverting him back to his old habits. "A whole lot more. But I'll settle for a nice kiss now..." With more to come later, of course. "Now, honey--" To Siannen "--You just get out of the way. I've got things to do to.. er, with that sexy creature behind you."

Lis' heart manages a biologically improbable leap into her throat at the sight of F'ish. Last time she saw him, he was wearing a lot more sparkles and skirts in that odd sort of appealing way that calls up mental images and makes the greenrider fidget. Fingers waggle shyly at the bluerider, and the mumbled mantra of 'I'm weyrmated' occupies her lips rather than kissing - that is, until a smile takes over at the scene of B'art's heated passion for Pyrene, of all people.

Pyrene does her swelling up thing again. "I am not 'sweetie Py'!" and by way of revenge she slips her arms around Siannen's shoulders, bending to give the little nanny a kiss before anybody else, giggling somewhat at Trenny and F'ish as she does so. "Sides, B'art... if we've /already/ kissed... others should get their turn, right?"

"But not on your turnday," B'art almost-whines, swampy eyes fixed mournfully on Pyrene's figure. "Today is different." He takes a swig of wine to emphasize his words, before turning to loom over the goldride.r

"Blue, actually...Hiya, F'ish..." Sian's attention is diverted for a moment, though the hand n her shoulder is...fairly reassuring. And just about the only hting that keeps her from launching herself at the bronzerider. "Go 'way, yo--" And then she's being kissed by Pyrene. Hooray, things are sane once more! Half-turning, she flings an arm up, 'round Pyrene's neck, hugging her as well. "Happy turnday, Na-- Pyrene..." Old habits, after all. Like protecting Py at all costs. "How much longer 'til he can go away, Py? And kiss Lis next. Then F'ish. I like F'ish..." And B'art's gonna have to go -through- the kid to get at her friend. So there.

F'ish quirks thin lips into a strange smile at Trenny. "Color/ is but an illusion/ unreliable as the human sight that fuels it./ I/ would rather rely on...feeeeeeeling. Yeeeah." Smoky eyes swivel in deep set-sockets towards Pyrene. "Something in poet's heart feels senses wish for poet's kiss on turnday girl's lips?"

Pyrene looks slightly pitiful. "You didn't say that this morning. You /forgot/." Not that she actually told him in the first place, but.... "/Nobody/ remembered. Except Cadge. And that was just because I reminded her." She gives Sian one last mournful squeeze before giving everybody else heartwrenching looks. Forgotten. Ignored. Neglected. Unloved.

Treneere ignores at that romantic nonsense and kissing and stuff to eye F'ish warily. Sometimes people get /too/ interesting, y'know? "Um. I'm /nine/." This is insisted, and scrambles after that yucky trundlebug she saw earlier.

"Pyrene's never kissed me!" Lis points out, unconciously mimicking the cadences and facial expressions of her weyrmate. The effect is downright disturbing, at the least. Siannen, however, breaks up her pout as she gives the girl a warm beam. Good brat - have a bone. "Come give your favorite greenrider a kiss, Py-lovey," she coos invitingly - or sickeningly, depending on how sober you are.

Siannen heeeeys. Now that's unfair..."Py, I remembered...and then I got stuck /washing/. 'Brats. You know how long that can take!" Although fortunately for all, Crenash...Cr'ash, rather, is no longer her responsibility. But unfortunately for Sian, "And the 'lings came in too...well, not really. They carried Cr'ash in. And tossed him in. And said I'm the only one who's ever manage dto get him clean...really clean." Lis is pouted at, as she's one of R'sli's minions now...though, it was her own candidacy-mates that saddled her with the brother-thing...oh yeeeah...

Pyrene hastily drains the last of her wineskin before moving (it's too much hassle to carry it) over to Lis--her hips just happening to brush B'art as she passes. "Alright... Lis next, and then I want one off you, Trenny!"

B'art gazes longingly after Pyrene, a gaze condensed by her casual hip-contact. "If I'm last," he calls, "my kiss had better be a good one." He sticks his thumbs into his belt loops, his generous belly brushing the tops of his hands.

Treneere catches her trundlebug, and holds it gingerly between two fingers, smudged already from the effort in knee-crawling to get it. Pyrene's ultimatum? "Can't I just give you a present or something, Sis?" She grimaces, and shies away from the kissing circle.

Lis swaggers over to Pyrene with a devilish gleam in her eyes - and she hasn't had anything alcoholic yet. Supposedly. Hooking arms around the tall goldrider's neck, she stands up on tip-toe and plants a wet kiss on the Turnday girl's lips. No chaste peck, or warm friendly kiss, it's one of those open-mouthed ones that'll probably get her slapped.

Pyrene blinks at Lis' kiss and then bursts out laughing. She manages to hug into the kiss briefly before gently pulling back and shaking her head. "Now now... you're /weyrmated/! I wouldn't want D'renn to be jealous." It seems to have sobered her up a little--or at least reduced the word-slurrage. Her eyes are still intoxication-bright as she calls her sister: "C'mon, Trenny. It's tradition. Just don't give me a kiss like Lis' kiss." Even as she speaks, she catches B'art's eyes and waves him towards Lis with sudden mischief.

It's a kissin' circle... and B'art's a willing participant. He saunters over to Lis, belly a' shakin', and puckers up his lips towards the greenrider.

"Butbutbut..." Tren protests avidly, and gets closer only to wave her trundlebug at Pyrene. "I got you a present. See? And I thought it was icky, but did it for you, so don't make me do more icky stuff. Please? I'm your /sister/."

Lis goes just a little fuzzy as she ponders just /what/ D'renn would think, smirking at something probably terribly impure. "Mmwah?" she asks sleepily, returning to reality somewhere in B'art's personal space, which isn't one of the nicest places to be. "Uh, hello there..." she states rather weakly, seemingly abandoned to the bronzerider's frustration.

"Kiss me baby," B'art says, words squeezed around his still-puckered lips. Lucky Lis?

Pyrene looks down at Treneere with sudden pensiveness. "But that's why I want a kiss... Because I've not got a family. Not like Lis has... You're the most family I've had for nearly 11 turns now, Trenny..." Dodging trundlebugs, she manages a little peck on the cheek before looking up wistfully. 23 and alone. How... poignant.

In a moment of immorality - which she has certainly got a history of - Lis leans forward to plant a kiss on the poor bronzerider's lips. She can claim she was intoxicated, later - intoxicated on goldriders. (Forbidden fruit, you know.)

Poignant, indeed. Little Trenny pauses to look touched for a full three seconds before donning the customary monster face and dropping her trundlebug to squishable height. "Yuck." She never directed her disgust to either the kiss or the bug, though, so remains safely ambiguous just in time to eye B'art. "Wierdo."

Siannen manages to elbow the goldrider in question, as B'art's nicely occupied with Lis. Sort of. Yeah. "Hey, you're like family to -me-, Py...prolly the closest thing I've had to a mother for most of the time I was here...after all, with Ris as my dad...I don't think Ty makes a very good 'mom,' after all..." And she honestly loves the goldrider. The little freak.

Poignant tales? Loss? Loneliness? F'ish knows this, no, he /feels/ this. "Ah the sweet sweet scent of blue-bitter melancholy on the fair maiden's lips, how the poet's heart does wrench." And, seeing it is his turn, he grabs Pyrene about the waist, pulling him to her, leans her back into his arms, and places a slow, gentle, tender kiss upon her lips. Aww, it's like something out of a fairy tale. Good point #1: He's thorough with the kissin' stuff.

B'art's pudgy lips deliver a very sound kissing onto Lis's, before he pulls back with a self-satisfied smirk. "Listen baby," he whispers, "next time your green flies, you give ole B'art a call, ya hear?" One final wink, and he's back to vieing for some of Pyrene's lip attention.

Pyrene just has enough time to go a little teary-eyed at Siannen before she finds herself melting in the arms of /F'ish/ of all people. Once released, she sits down limply on the bench next to him and just stares. Bluerider or not, it's amazing how you can share a room with a person for nigh on two turns and not discover such hidden talents. Distracted as she is, she'd probably let just about anybody kiss her now.

"I'll... see..." is all Lis can manage to get out as she reels slightly in a passion, too many times kissed haze. Not entirely a bad thing, as the sleepy smirkish smile on her face will attest. "Aww, that was just lovely!" declares the greenrider with some spontaneous applause.

Seeing his moment, B'art waddles over to Pyrene, gathers her into his arms, and plants what is undoubtably the sloppiest, wettest, and wine-flavored kiss onto the goldriders lips. Smoooooch!

Pyrene doesn't mind the wine-flavoured bit, but she wipes her mouth afterwards. "B'art... you need to salivate less," she mutters. "But thanks... all of you. I mean, you're all kind of my family in a way. Trenny, obviously, but I raised Siannen, and I stood with Lis, I Impressed with F'ish and I...." vague wave of her hand, "...with B'art." If she had a point, she forgot it, but the sentiment's there.

Lis siddles back over to Treneere's side, her head slowly clearing after all the lovin' being passed around. "Aw, Pyrene..." The greenrider melts under the kind words of her favorite goldrider - let's just hope it's not some courtly crush?

Treneere is incorrigable. "Why's B'art your family, Rene, hmmm? What'd you do with him? Just because he'n'uglydragon're having babies..." Her sister. All hers.

B'art beams a toothy smile in Pyrene's direction. "Always glad to lend a hand, you hot little hatchling, you." To Treneere, he shrugs a shoulder and waves one meaty paw towards the sands, dragons, and eggs. "We're all a family, little squirt."

Siannen doesnt' decapitate anyone, wonder of wonders. She just looks very....green. Oh, /gross/. "That's as bad as hitting on Oren!" Wait...oh, right. She's the one whose hands were...well, yeah. And so she glares at the bronzerider, abreiviated nanny once more positioning herself between Pyrene and...him, arms winding 'round the goldrider's waist. Her nanny-mom-figure-Pyrene-thing. Yeah. "And don't call Treneere little, okay?" Even if the brat did say Cadge was ugly.

Pyrene rolls her eyes at Treneere. "It's /Cadge/. She's /beautiful/. And yeah... we're family because our dragons are having babies. So that makes him /your/ family too. He's like your big brother." Never mind he's not far off their father's age. She blinks down at the arms winding protectively around her waist and adds: "And I think Siannen's our mother." Amusement comes hand in hand with heartfelt tears, thanks to the rather lethal cocktail of wine she seems to have been drinking.

Oren comes up the stairs.

Inspired, B'art sucks greedily at his wine-skin again. Mushy stuff makes him thirsty. Kissing makes him thirsty -- its the saliva loss, really. So... he's well on his way to joining Pyrene in her state of alcohol-induced happiness.

Treneere eyes B'art. "He's only my brother if he stops calling me little. I'm bigger'n Woofie." The rope's been discarded by now, but obviously the invisible canine's been trained to heel. "And Lis is my mother. How can Siannen be our mother? She's too young. Unless she's really a hundred Turns but lived in Ista for a while."

Lis perches herself on the edge of a bench, folding one leg under herself and letting the other swing at the knee. "Does that mean I'm a mother too, Pyrene? If I'm Trenny's mother, and I'm yours, too... Shards, if /B'art/ gets to be your brother..." One hand flicks out towards the bronzerider - surely she counts more than that? Oren is spotted, and... grinned at, for lack of a better expression.

Siannen still clings to Pyrene, though whether the embrace is protective, one might never know. Head lifts a moment, and..."Heeey! Oren, c'mere!" He's better than B'art. Pyrene kissed B'art, after all...Oren's sure to get /some/ action...

Intense eyes inquire gently in a hazy, dreamy gaze directed towards Pyrene. "Mehopes the lonely center of this fragile flower is filled with the affection of few," whispers F'ish, words sliding out silken between soft lips. "If not, then a thousand apologies of an equally sorrowed soul," he proclaims, drawing closer to the goldrider.

Sora walks in.

Pyrene sighs at her sister. "It's metaphorical," she explains patiently, before wriggling for another wineskin. She's managed to get quite the stash up here. "But we /are/ all family, aren't we? I dunno, Lis, I think you're more an aunt..." She pauses to stare dizzily at F'ish. "So... er... what does that make you? Kissing cousin, maybe? You do kiss nicely." She bats her eyes at him.

Still lurking in Pyrene's vicinity, B'art plops his plump tush onto one of the tiers, pudgy arms wrapped comfortably 'round the wine-skin. He eyes F'ish irritably, more than jealous over what he still can't claim as his.

You can probably see Oren's leer before you see the rest of him. The leer, and the blazing flame of tousled red locks. "Pyrene, Sora, Lis, Si-aaannen. Now how is this little bombshell of a babe doing this fine evening," crows Oren, strutting over to Sian obediently. "And what /naughty/ things do you have in mind for me? Hehehehe."

Treneere goes home.

Lis scrambles deftly over a row or two, despite the supposed fondness of leathers for her curves - strong seams in those stitches, you know - to end up just about and on the far side of Pyrene from F'ish. "Thanks, Py - he's dreamy one, isn't he?" she purrs encouragingly in the weyrwoman's ear. She's just returning the favor of helping her friend shack up with a bluerider...

And with that, embrace shifts from Pyrene's waist to Oren's, one arm slipped 'round to swing the boy closer. "Weeell...seems F'ish got to Pyrene again first...but it's her turnday, which means you get to kiss her, if you'd like..." What a pair, eh? "And I'm doin' okay....no Kare to beat you up anymore..." Ooh? Perks, this...

"If kiss the pretty Py resists, then humble F'ish promises 'desist', but if the kiss sweet Py she longs, then kiss sweet lips, 'til break the dawn." If you can't guess, that was F'ish. Obviously. And with that, another kiss is deposited on Pyrene's lips, then goldrider's hand is taken and fingers sensually smooched.

Pyrene is powerless in the face of F'ish's wooing. Except to correct: "It's Pyrene...." She sighs and just lets him do whatever he wants to her hand. "I love you guys--and I'm not just saying that because I'm drunk... I /shwear/!" she mumbles.

See Lis. See Lis' jaw drop at F'ish. See Lis' libido go through the stoney galleries' roof (in a figurative sense). "Keep that one, Py, at least for a night," is her breathy advice to the goldrider, fidgeting away from the couple. D'renn won't be getting much sleep tonight, if this sort of scene keeps up.

Sora is...here. Unfortunately. Emerald gaze turns, wary, from the gallery steps, sliding up and viewing...them. "Oh. My." Poor Sora.

"We, ah," Gulp. "Love you too, Pyrene," Lis gets out, managing to sound more than a little strained watching F'ish's overtures on Pyrne's hand. At least he's confined himself to socially acceptable body parts in public... Sora is eyed speculatively - at this point in time, she's bluerider first, woman second and friend-and-innocent third.

B'art slithers around, rather agilely for a man of his girth, until he's sitting possessively near Pyrene. What he says: "Honey, maybe you should go check on the eggs." What he really means: "Honey, let's go do something x-rated."

*thunk!* Ahh, the sound of booted toe impacting shin. Sian's toe, B'art's shin, to be exact. So the girl's attatched to Oren at the waist...she can still protect Pyrene from...him. F'ish we like. B'art we don't. "Ooooreeen..." Not that he's done anything. Yet.

F'ish stops his empassioned kisses to study Py mournfully. "Pyrene. Oh, beautiful, beautiful Pyrene. To touch you, hold you too close, I fear. Like a dream, a mirage you may disappear. For deep within poet's soul, I feel, that beauty like this, could ne'er be real." Hypocrite. He physically lifts Pyrene into his arms, knight-in-shining-armor-like, and leans down to kiss her deeply on the lips. When he comes up for breath... "May I?"

B'art groans, attention flickering lightening fast to his rapidly swelling shin. "Hey... What'd you do that for?" He asks sulkily, gazing at Siannen. "He's --

"Siannen...Pyrene...Oren...Lis..." Pause. "F'ish...B'art." Sora's ginger greetings get less and less enthusiastic as they go down the line. Lis' look is noted, paused at, before the blueling scoots forward a teeny bit more. "Heh. Hi." Or hide. That too.

Pyrene casts her eyes over sleeping dragon and dormant eggs. "They're fine..." she decides, pointing them out to him with her free hand. Sian's protection of her goes un-noticed (but it would have been appreciated) as she suddenly finds herself raised into F'ish's arms. "Oh." is her expansive answer. "Sora... Hi..." She notices little details at times like this. Such as other blueriders.

B'art groans, attention flickering lightening fast to his rapidly swelling shin. "Hey... What'd you do that for?" He asks sulkily, gazing at Siannen. "He's --" Gesture to F'ish "-- the one who's got her now."

Siannen glares right back, "Yeah, so? I don't like you...and I don't like you leering at Py, or touching Py, or...doing things that ferrets do with her, either. F'ish....now, I like F'ish. He's nice. And charming. And he doesn't make crude comments and...stuff like that. So...you better watch out, okay?" 'Cause she doesn't like you. And she'll sic Oren on you too. After all, you leered at Siannen...oh, yeah. "And he doesn't leer at people young enough to be his /kids/, either."

F'ish whisks Pyrene away on his dragon, riding off into the sunset. Or his weyr. Either or, right? Whee. Arielth's tail trails an aura of fairydust about them as they depart. Awww. How cute.

Lis flees after Pyrene and F'ish - no, not in /that/ way; there's only one exit from the galleries to the sky, really (via Alymath, of course). Besides, she's got to take Trenny home (or to Auntie Thiyo's) and get rid of the kids for a while. /Fast/.