The following is a log of roleplay on Star Stones MOO, logged by Dallaney.
All references to the world and characters of Pern™ based on Anne McCaffrey's fiction
are copyright© 1967 by Anne McCaffrey, all rights reserved. The Dragonriders of Pern® is
registered U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, by Anne McCaffrey and used here with
permission.
L'il-Ones' Hole-Niche Thing
Small, but spacious, niche simply basks in light, glows set in various niches about the
crevice. Tacked to the wall are small tapestries, weavings set illuminated by the
daylight-like glow inside the cavern. Ceiling arches above, small stone leges poking out
from the rock walls. A small bed is huddled in the back, while mats adorn five of the
natural ledges, rope ladders secured to the edge. The floor is uneven, but smooth, a dark
green mat running from the entrance about half-way in.
Perched somewhere up high, you see Haruka.
Kione is here.
From here you can go:
Out
The current weather report:
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IgenW: Center Bowl Area (#5491)
It is a bright, cheery day. It is a fall morning.
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Dallaney enters the tiny cavern, and promptly heads to the back, ignoring Kione but
including the firelizard present in her piercing glare. She kicks at a hump of furs, for
starters, then leans down to poke at it.
Dallaney
A thin child, a literal burst of lanky limbs and untidy muddy mahogany curls mass into a
boyish tangle compressed into her young body. Ragged lines of grit and scratches rake over
a darkened brown face, thick lids fluttering open on beady eyes also hazel and oft-times
alertly wary. The small face sharpens into depressed cheeks and pursed lips, altogether
not too pleasant a sight. Remnants of babyish flab plumpens the sturdy girl's body only
slightly at waists, but arms vise-like, are as thin as lengthy legs.
A pair of pants, knees scrubbed bare and patched are bunched up at her waist and held by a
hide belt, the leather adhesive to skin and showing off thin and athletic legs. Slippers
on her feet loosely sewn hang by a thread or two, and her shirt tucked in tight is covered
by a miniature jacket similar to the ones used for flight.
Reluctant Igen Weyr colours twine on her shoulder, threatening to spill over to the
browned neck.
She is awake and looks alert.
Marooned
Kione peers curiously at Dallaney, "Something up?" she asks, ending with a small
cough. Haruka blinks, and shrinks away from the glare, that can't be good, no..
Kione
A plain girl, Kione is not especially noticable. Her hair is short, cut off just below her
ears, and is mousy brown color. She sports eyes of chocolate-brown on a thin, oval shaped
face. Her form is lean with long legs and slender arms. One gets the overall sense of good
cheer from her easy smile and cool manner.
She wears a tunic of dark gray and faded brown breeches tucked into sturdy work boots. Her
hair is neatly pulled back with a thin strip of cloth.
She is awake and looks alert.
Dallaney decides to fall over, gracelessly, on the heap -- and does, glancing up at Kione
with the beginnings of surprise, and perhaps a little non-recognition. "Oh--
you," she casually says, bouncing a hank of mahogany curl to behind her half-bare
shoulder. "Up?" The child looks upwards, and eyes the blue once more.
"...nothing, I think. Except for /him/."
Kione looks startled, giving Haruka a 'what did you do?' look, "Haruka?" she
looks back to Dallaney, "What'd he do?"
Lucky Kione. Dallan isn't spoiling for a fight on today, of all days; she redoes the
drapery of the blankets by rote, booted foot darning a fold up and over another into an
unruly mess. Just as if a stampede of weyrbrats had gone through it, a truth in itself --
there's a tilting of the tanned head towards Kione, again. "What? Haruka-- so that's
his name? He's up there, that's what he did. Up there," the girl assures contentedly,
smirking a grin. Toe collides with cloth.
Kione blinks, "Oh.." then she plops herself onto the floor and bekons the blue
for a scratch. "I was worried he'd done something again.. Not quite been behaving
himself."
Dallaney finds a balled-up bit of garment with that seeking toe, and nudges it towards the
young woman. "Yours?" And ponders firelizards, lazily. "I like mine, at
least they behave around me. Too much trouble to feed, too many mouths in
their...stomach." Whatever. "Try scolding him." If they go /between/, good
riddance.
Kione frowns at the garment, not recognizing it, "No..." she quirks her head to
the side, "I just have the one, he's sweet, just... Uh.. energetic sometimes."
Dallaney squirrels herself under the warm, warm comfort of those selfsame furs, whence she
bunches up in defensive stance, ready-to-roll stance. "Sweet, ha!" the grating
voice grunts from a seeming distance, but then the attention leaps, as surely caught by
another thought. "I remember where that came from now, I should return it." She
sneezes then, softly. "Eugnhmm."
Kione blinks, thinking she's missed something, "What was that?" she asks,
absently scritching Haruka's headridges.
Dallaney reiterates tersely: "Was a joke, we went to steal someone's clothes,
y'see." She's broken off by another untimely sneeze, and groans. "That's when we
got drenched in th'r-rain." She's perfectly dry now, though, huddled beneath as she
is, and demands now at the top of healthy young lungs. "Don't you /ever/ g-ged'out of
this place?"
Kione nods, startled by the demanding tone, "I do, I was out visiting a harper friend
of mine just yesterday..."
Dallaney does it often, don'tchaknow, almost always in fact. "O-kay, tell me when it
rains next..." she trails off, curling into a final, fetal posture, fingers showing
briefly above the level of the furs to shove them into place.
Kione says, "I will..." then gets up and heads over to her pile of furs to sit
more comfortably.
Dallaney is probably asleep; she isn't moving.
Kione sighs, leaning aginst the wall, looking somewhat releaved.