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Josy - Monday, June 12, 2000, 4:37 PM
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The following is a roleplay-log from SouCon MUSH (soucon.godlike.com 4201). The world of Pern is copyright to Anne McCaffrey.
You walk toward the Courtyard.
Leonette is sitting on a bench, resting and watching a ten-turn-old little boy playing on the grass.
F'loran wanders out of the Infirmary just before Joslyn, and guess what he's carrying? A little sleeping baby girl, clothed and wrapped in blankets and all that jazz. Oh, and he's got that 'new father' cheesy grin on his face. He'd wave to Leonette, but that'd be bad for the baby. He'd shout out a hello, but that'd wake the little up. So I guess he really doesn't do much of anything...
So walking is no real easy chore, but then Joslyn has never much liked doing anything that required any real effort anyway. Still, she ambles along after F'loran as best she can, peeking at the aforementioned bundle. "When do I get to hold it - her?" she asks in a plaintive whine. "You got to hold her all day almost. It's my turn now."
Leonette looks over at F'loran and Joslyn, and then grins slowly standing up, "Oh my...what've you got there?" she asks as she approaches. As if she can't tell a baby when she sees one...
"It's mine," says Joslyn very promptly. Not ours. Not a baby. Not Rosalyn. It's just hers. "And Fol won't let me hold it and I wanna." She's none too steady, really, looking all worn out and rather yucky from the whole ordeal of delivering a child, but there's still the same spite.
F'loran shhhs Joslyn in what must be the /only/ show of backbone he's ever managed. He's still grinning, though. "Oh, alright. Sheesh... Here ya go," and he very carefully holds the baby out for her. "Now you heard what the Healer said. You gotta keep her neck supported." Good luck, kid. Anyway, Once the child has been handed off, he turns to Leonette to clarify Joslyn's remarks. "Her name is Rosalyn." Beaming smile.
Leonette grins even wider, "Ooh! How wonderful! Congratulations!" she exclaims, as she admires the baby, "She's so pretty...Rosalyn? That's a pretty name..." She stops to take a breath, just admiring the baby with a big grin. "Wow...y'all must be awful proud of her...she's so cute!"
One has to wonder just how bright F'loran is sometimes, actually handing over the cloth-wrapped bundle to the likes of Joslyn. The stone floor of the courtyard really would be a terrible place to drop such a delicate little thing. Anyway, awkward but triumphant, she collects the kid who's probably already used to being jostled thusly. "She is?" comes her confused comment, and with one arm 'neath the child, she peers quizzacly at the child. Hrm.
Kayjay walks over from the Landing Field.
Kayjay walks across the courtyard, buried under a virtual mountain of hidework.
Well, F'loran is only the father after all - it's only fair to let Joslyn hold the little bundle for a while. Lucky for F'loran, he's too stupid to be worried about the mother's weariness. He does offer a proud smile in Leonette's direction, though, as he nodnods. "Isn't she? I think she's incredible." He's gonna be all mushy for a while. It's unavoidable.
A muffled voice comes from within the hides and Kayjay asks. "Who? Who is incredible?"
Leonette chuckles and gives Joslyn a 'duh' kind of look, "Well, yeah! Of course she is," she peers a bit closer at the baby. She giggles a bit as she sees Kayjay, and calls to her, "Joslyn and F'loran's baby! Come see!" she says, waving her over. (Even if she can't see the wave under all those hides...)
Kayjay huhs. "Joslyn and F'loran's maybe? Maybe goin'
Pecking through the blankets for a few moments, Joslyn manages to ellicit a funny, choked sound as most newly born babies are inclined to make - it's supposed to be crying, but it's pathetically understated. "I guess so... Kinda." She still seems a little puzzled by the notion of 'cute', but shrugs anyway then looks over to Kayjay. "They said it's cute," she informs, proud enough. But let's leave the mushy stuff to F'loran.
Kayjay huhs. "Joslyn and F'loran's maybe? Maybe goin' to do what?"
F'loran rolls his eyes and grins over at Kayjay. "You've gotta get some rest from that work, Kayjay. She said baby. Our baby." This last bit is beamed out in that classic smile again. "Her name's Rosalyn. Wanna see?" He eyes Joslyn for a moment, then, and mutters something about not poking the baby, and letting her sleep.
Justin walks over from the lush, Lakeside Meadow.
Justin makes his way in, boots a bit dusty from the walk from the Hall. He makes his way towards Joslyn.
Snapped just a bit shrewishly, "I didn't POKE. Look, it went back to sleep." Joslyn nudges the brownrider to investigate, nodding toward closed lids to prove her point, so there. She shifts repeatedly, trying to accustom herself to holding the thing in the crook of her arm and failing for the most part. She doesn't notice the Healer right off the bat; too many other things to think about at once.
Justin gently clears his throat.
F'loran smiles and waves over at Justin, waving the healer over to see the infant. "She's sleeping," he half-whispers to the man, pointing at the small, resting form, as if he couldn't tell by himself. As if he couldn't tell by himself. Fol's not the brightest giraffe in the bathtub, though, one must remember that.
Glancing up at the surreptitious Healer's arrival, Joslyn makes something of a face at first - ingrate that she is - and then tilts her head in a greeting of some sort. "Tell me why it keeps making this noise?" Again she disturbs the covers enough to get the baby to utter that newborn attempt at crying. She WAS sleeping, anyway.
Kayjay grins at the mention of the child and puts the hides down on a table, wandering over to inspect. "Really? I didn't hear, how old is she?" She tries to catch a glimpse. "How come I never hear about these things?"
Justin chuckles quietly, "Well, it probably means she's hungry, or her clothing is soiled, or she's just in a bad mood." Having spent eleven hours in labor with Joslyn, he leaves the "like mother like daughter" unsaid, but very gently implied.
"Oh, it's brand new," F'loran tells Kayjay. "She was born early this morning." The Wingsecond is all smiles right now, and will likely be so for several days to come - or at least until Rosalyn wakes him up in the middle of the night the first time.
"She's only a little old," Joslyn says back to Kayjay - and even remebered that her baby has a gender this time. "Hungry, soiled, bad mood," repeats the goldrider, nodding these facts to herself to commit them to a fallible memory. "Erm, so I should feed it or clean it or... what? Play with it?"
Kayjay grins at F'loran wholeheartedly. "Congratulations, may you have many more children to bring you a lot more happiness." She beams. "My mother had six." She chuckles at Joslyn's comment. "Hug her, cuddle her, soothe her."
Justin grins at Josy, "Well, you could try all the above." He reaches in and makes those sickening sounds, but hey, he's a Healer, he should have some sort of soothing effect. Uh huh, right.
Joslyn looks rather sharply at Kayjay this time. "Many more? Oh, nonono. D'you know how long it takes to HAVE one of these things?" She shakes her head very adamently at that, none too gentle about coddling the child, either. It'll just have to get used to being thus manhandled. "Stop that," she adds to the Healer. "Look. It doesn't like you any." Or it doesn't like bouncing around like that.
Kayjay holds back a giggle, really she does. She looks at Joslyn and then at F'loran and then finally at that sweet innocent little baby and blinks. Poor thing. "Oh, well, but it is worth it, that is what they say at least.."
L'mir strides over from the lush, Lakeside Meadow.
Jayla strides over from the lush, Lakeside Meadow.
F'loran, in the mean time, has little to do but watch all this manhandling. Now he's not exactly the sharpest stick in the eye, but he does know that this isn't the way one should treat a small child. So he walks up to Joslyn again, and holds out his arms for the kid. "Here. I'll hold her.. You need rest." Or something.
Justin looks at Joslyn, and tries to be diplomatic, "I'm sure the weyr has nannies to assist in the care of the child."
Justin then gives F'loran a smile.
L'mir stops rather quickly when he sees F'loran, Josy and those around them. "Heya.." he says softly, then the babe catches his eye. "Ohhhhh... Uncle..."
Like Joslyn's really that submissive. "No," she says, keeping the blanket-clad armfull very much to herself. "It's mine. You could have it later." She does make an honest attempt, then, to be a little more gentle with the thing, even going so far as to shift a blanket so that the sun isn't in the newborn eyes. "There's lotsa nannies, but I just got it and I haven't even got to show it to Jeuneth yet." Which should be great fun.
Aelia walks over from the lush, Lakeside Meadow.
Aelia has arrived.
F'loran's eyes widen at the whole Jeuneth remark. "But she'll eat her!" he protests, not loudly, just...adamently. Ah well. At length, the Wingsecond wrinkles up his face at his - er - quasi-weyrmate. He turns to L'mir after a moment, and again affects a smile, waving the man over. "Mmm hmm. Come see! We named her Rosalyn."
From the corner of her eye Kayjay notes a resident walk a bit too close too her precious hidework and she moves quickly to right the pile, setting it far from harms reach. She shakes her head slightly but does smile at L'mir. "Congratulations, uncle."
Justin looks at Joslyn, and sets his jaw, "You might help /her/, by calling your child /her/ instead of /it/. Do you call Jeuneth it?"
L'mir walks up to F'loran quickly, putting an arm around the rider's neck. "Lookit her! Shards, she looks just like... me!" He laughs, smacking Fol's back heartily.
"Are you kidding?" asks Joslyn with a scoff at the Healer - who obviously has never made the acquaintance of the gold in question. "She'd never stand for that." Shaking her head once more, the goldrider very stubbornly keeps hold of her baby, and argues, "Jeuneth won't EAT her. She already promised she wouldn't." Toward the uncle bronzerider, she adds, "How can you say that? It looks like a baby to me," and goes peeking amid the blankets once more.
"She better not," F'loran replies with a chuckle to his brother. "Or you're gonna have quite a bit of explaining to do. And besides...you're kinda ugly, bro." Grin. Wink. Then he turns a rather pouty expression on Joslyn. "Come on.. I wanna hold her now. You're shakin' her around too much."
Aelia slips in from the meadows, eyes finding the gathered group, and then, the pair, or triple, that seem to be at their center. Well, she'll settle for investigating a new place, and does just that, beginning a wide circle of the outside of the courtyard.
Kayjay wanders close to the bronzerider and whispers in his ear. She mutters to L'mir, "... you... to... a... this little... to need the attention... her... I mean,... forget to ... or... her or..."
In exactly the same manner as before, Joslyn replies staunchly, "No. It's mine." She'd normally run off someplace safe, but running is entirely out of the question. Actually, moving much at all is entirely out of the question. Suffice it to say, standing is an effort at this point. "You could have it later." When the baby starts crying again.
Justin hrms, "I think I should stay here for a savenday or so."
Kayjay looks over at the healer. "Or longer might be nice." She keeps a straight face. She does notice the newcomer. "Is that your assistant over there? Maybe she can be of assitance?" She gestures to Aelia.
F'loran just grumbles for now. He'd say something louder than that, but he (unlike the child's mother) is concerned with letting the little one sleep. So for the time being he just watches mother and child. And waits.
Joslyn tilts her head to one side, following the Wingleader's gesture toward the girl and frowning over the unfamiliar face. "You sould tell her to come over here," is suggested toward F'loran - most likely to get him out of her hair. She does look sideways at the Healer and says, "You sure? I mean, you could go home if you wanna. We'd be just fine and I bet they could use you... wherever."
L'mir has indeed heard Kayjay's comment, a grin forming on his lips, then he asks her, "I didn't think I was going anywhere.. unless you know something I don't? There's no way I'd miss this for all of Pern."
if she's aware, that the conversation seems to have turned in her direction, she'll give no indication of it. Instead, a large hankerchief is tugged free from a pocket, and then she's kneeling, next to a patch of grass which seems to be intent on sprouting between the flagstones, deft fingers plcuking the blades, setting them into the hankerchief. Easier to throw away later, right?
Kayjay stares down at the girl picking the grass from the cornerstones. She nods to L'mir, chuckling. "Good thing, very good thing. A girl needs an uncle about to watch over her." She wanders over to the grasspicker and watches her for a moment or two before finally asking. "Hello, you a new gardener around here? Interesting tool."
"Watch over her. Hmmm." L'mir mutters this, those words seeming odd to him somehow. "Hmmm." he repeats, before sending a look Josy-ward. "Yeah. I do." he replies to her offer, taking a few steps toward the infant and Ma. "You won't hit me if I do, will you?" he teases, holding out both arms toward the goldrider.
"Not very hard," replies Joslyn cheerfully, absolving herself of the bundle in a rather precarious manner. She has absolutely no idea what she's doing and it shows. Let's all hope L'mir fares better, hm? The fact that her interest is also divided in attending Kayjay and the girl she has yet to meet doesn't make the process a smoothe one, but she does eventually deliver the tiny child unto her uncle.
Quick, curious eyes, rise as Kayjay's approach is noted, first, at the edge of her vision, and then, fully so, as she turns to the woman who addresses her, a sharp shake of her head, as she points to the grass, and then off towards the weyrs, or rather, one might suspect, to their draconic occupants, and then a firm pluck to the final patch of grass, before she gathers up the cloth and rises, leaving the stone green-free, as it should be. But then, as if in answer to her position, her free hand retrieves a hide letter from her satchel, offering it to Kayjay.
Justin observes quietly, not really wanting to say anything.
L'mir wobbles just a little as he grasps his neice. He's skilled at such things, you see, having had one of his own. Ok not really 'had' but.. A few paces find him nearby Kayjay now as he rocks the tiny babe in his arms. "Look." he says after Kayjay gets the hide, with a huge grin. "I'm an Uncle!" Puffy chest shows he's quite proud of this event.
Kayjay looks a bit startled as the girl abruptly hands her a letter but looks at the address and shrugs, seeing it is addressed to anyone. She looks over to the Weyrwoman who seems to have her hands full.
Aithne walks over from the lush, Lakeside Meadow.
F'loran, on the other hand, just gets to stew there for the time being. He actually looks pained that the child is so easily handed to someone other than himself. At least it's L'mir, though. Again, however, F'loran has little to do but follow L'mir and his daughter now. "Isn't she amazing?" he asks to anyone in listening range.
Kayjay opens the scroll and quickly skims its contents. She nods, smiling. "Ah, well, welcome. You probably need to see the headwoman about this, after all she is the one in charge of kitchen workers. I stay out of there myself." She smiles, encouragingly. "Southern Boll, that is a fair distance for anyone to come."
Kayjay blushes slightly. "Ah, I am Kayjay, by the way, Wingleader of Firedance and lifemate to brown Suriath. I am safe in assuming you are Aelia?"
Aithne pads within hearing range just in time to hear Fol's question. "Isn't who amazing?" She asks before offering a wave to the others.
Joslyn's definitely interested, of course, and it shows in the wan she watches the goings on between the brownrider and the strange girl, rubbin the end of her nose thoughtfully. "What's it say?" she calls over toward Kayjay, probably not willing to expend the effort of crossing even that short distance. "Yes, yes. An uncle. And I'm a mother and Fol's a papa and aren't we all a proud lot? Just don't drop it."
Jyanda strides over from the Garden Cottage Clearing.
Jyanda makes her way, with her basket in tow, from the cottage clearing.
Aelia isn't above being nosey, even if she has seen quite a few of these interesting contraptions at her foster-mother's side, and so, she takes a peek at the little one, fingers spreading, as if to indicate the sunrise, and then, to the child, eyes finding L'mir, and F'loran, as if that were her impression on the tiny thing, but then, back to business, and Kayjay, and a nod, as she points to the letter, and then to herself. Yes, she's Aelia. But she's also very pleased to meet Kayjay, as the respectful curtsey the Wingleader is offered after her introduction would indicate.
L'mir holds out the babe in his arms toward Aithne, offering a wide smile. "I'm an Uncle." he says for the umteenth time. "Amazing, yeah," he quotes from his brother.
Jyanda's head lifts, hearing a series of words. She looks around slowly, taking in those that are there.
Aithne oohhs as she pads closer, "That is indeed amazing. Congratulations, you two." She offers before peering curiously at Aelia and over to Kayjay.
Hoo boy. Now there's a whole crowd gathered, and as far as F'loran's concerned they're all here to see his little daughter. So he informs those newly arrived that, "Her name's Rosalyn." That's offered with a beaming smile every time, mind you. Ooh! Well, Joslyn wouldn't let Fol hold her again, but maybe L'mir will. Fol holds out his arms to the package his brother is holding, affecting a slight grin. "Here.." Aithne is offered a smile as well, now, and a, "Thanks!"
Kayjay nods to Aelia and hands her back the scroll. "When you have a chance, just go to the headwoman. Her office is off the weyrhall. She can take care of you and see if you are suitable to work in the kitchens here." She giggles. "As long as you don't burn anything, can deal with a few cross tempers and don't startle easily at strange dragonrider behaviour.." She looks over towards the goldrider, then back to the newcomer. "I can't exactly see any reason why the headwoman would send you away."
"Amazing?" Joslyn seems to have some measure of trouble coming to grips with the notion that the baby, while small and kind of neat, is exactly amazing. "I guess so," she decides after a little bit, still sparing half of her attention toward Kayjay and this new girl. "We're gonna call her Rosy," she adds, deciding as much at that exact moment and obviously tempted to go collect her daughter again just 'cause F'loran wants to hold her.
Aelia's smile is bright, and grateful as well, as she retrieves the hide, setting it back, if carefully, into her satchel, a dip of her head indicating thanks, at the words. And then, with nothing better to do than set off on the task Kayjay's given her, she slips away from the group, in her usual meandering gait, though she does stop, to pluck at grasses, every now nd again.
Jyanda tilts her head slightly, spying the newly born, the proud parents, and the apparant uncle. She'd never known the connections.
Aithne follows Kayjay's glance to Joslyn, trying not to giggle before she nods, "That is a beautiful name." Amazing how well she can not see L'mir right there. She turns to follow the new comer before asking Kayjay, "Who was that?"
L'mir glances over his shoulder toward Josy, as if to seek her permission. "Wait a minute." he says with a grin, then extends the child toward her Da. "Yer the Da. You do some work. I think she needs changed." Sure enough, the whiff of air would say so.
Justin quietly makes his way out.
Justin walks toward the Lakeside Meadow.
Joslyn was probably about to ask the exact same thing of Kayjay, or so says the quick series of nods that leave her head bouncing. "Yeah, uhm. You do some work," says the goldrider, watching Rosalyn change hands AGAIN before she glances off across the courtyard. "Jeuneth says she wants t'see her now." Which effectively means right this instant or all hell may break loose.
Kayjay calls over to Aelia. "Umm, Aelia. You really -don't- need to do that, honestly. It is nice of you and all, but we do have gardeners and such around here." She shrugs at Aithne. "New arrival from Southern Boll, it seems, new to the weyr, just left a fostering situation there, or so the letter reads."
F'loran's face wrinkles up at the offensive odor, and he nodnods to his brother as he takes the child. "Ooooh, I think you're right on that one. Come here, then, Rosy. Let's get you all cleaned up, hmm?" Awwwww. Father and daughter. How cute. She's probably smarter than he is already, too. Anyway, daughter cradled carefully in his arm, he nods and follows Joslyn off. Pray for the child, everyon!
Everyone, even.
Joslyn's departure is not at all swift. Rather, it's a very careful process of putting one foot in front of the other, steps mapped out very carefully. Eleven hours of labor does that to a person. "Don't drop it. Look, she's making that noise again. Give it here." Things like that probably persist all the way down the path to the goldrider's cottage. Pray for the father, everyone!
You walk toward the Landing Field.