The World of Pern(tm) is copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) l967. The Dragonriders of Pern is a registered copyright.

This is a log of an online roleplay on PernMUSH. This is not fanfiction, and the characters are copyright their respective players.

Benrak glances up at the intrusion - his face darkening. "What d'you think you're doing in here?" he snaps irritably. He's seated at his desk, sea charts in front of him.

Gliding into the room, Dess hardly pauses but a moment before she's greeted thusly, her face having worn a bright expression that now fades only slightly. Lips drawn up into a small smile, green eyes twinkle merrily, and she curtseys slightly while giving a pretend little rap on the side of the cabin door - her voice is singsong when it's comes. "Laaunndrry!" she twitters, flopping a hand at the big sailor. "Now you just sit right there and you won't even notice I'm here! Oh /my/ but look at this big boat! All closed up and stuffy!" Pouring into the room, she waves her hands expansively. "You know what this place needs ? Just a little splash of paint.. maybe a few pictures! Oh it could be quite nice!" a lofty sigh, "But not today I suppose.. no no.. today I'm just here for your things, dear. Now where are they?" she looks expectantly at Benrak.

Benrak's eyes bug out, eyebrows lifting up high on his forehead. "What?! Laundry?!" Blinkblinking, he just about stares at the woman, his irritable demeanor gone - temporarily. "What're you... oh! Uhm." Eyes flick about as he contemplates. "Where'd I leave these... uhmm... oh!" He extends his arm, pointing at the bed. "There're drawers under there. Should be dirty clothes in there, I believe."

Little lips poke down at the corners, and Dess's own fine brows arch up into upside down V's. "In /there/?" she echo's, green eyes blinking right back at the big man. "Now whyever would you keep dirty laundry in your clothing drawers! For goodness sakes.. don't you have a drudge to keep things for you?! You know, you really should have a talk with whoever it is! Laundry indeed." Fluttering over to the drawers she delicately pops one open, and her entire face squinches as she pulls back, nose scrunched and eyes squinted as her hands wave through the air. Splutteing, she coughs dramatically and looks back at Benrak. "I can't take these!" she states between fits of sputters, "They're a mess! My dress will be stained!"

Benrak's eyes roll ceiling-ward, and he heaves an immense, tortured sigh, a 'why me?' look written all over his face. "I keep my clean clothes in different drawers, woman!" Pushing the chair back with a skreech over the wooden floor, he climbs to his feet and turns about to look you over. "And no, I don't admit drudges in here. Drudges have light fingers, and often things go missing." Burly arms cross over his chest, and he tips his head to one side, regarding you with a critical look. "Although, you're too pretty to be a proper drudge. What're you doing in here, anyhow?"

Dess' smile strains upwards, one cheek dimpling deeply as she gives a tittering little laugh, again, that hand flopping gesture in an "Oh you!" manner. Blushing fashionably, she glides forward, her skirts barely moving until she's only a foot from Benrak and one dainty hand is extended with wrist limp, presenting it to be kissed apparently. "I'm Desstra Shayne Cloviant, of course! From the Cloviant Vinyards in High Reaches? I'm here on... " she pauses, her words caught in her throat as her eyes slip sideways momentarily. "Ahem. A bit of a leave.. shall we say. Dadums had a bit of a..." another slight pause, "A fop, shall we say. I'm sure he'll be over it once mummy gets a good brandy down him.. Oh but /listen/ to me, carrying on! Where are my manners?!" She gives an attentive smile to Benrak, "And you are? They simply told me to come gather your clothing, I'm afraid.. those wretched women have not an ounce of manners!"

Benrak's eyes widen at the quite lengthy introduction and he peers curiously at the hand before reaching up to take it and give it a firm little shake. "Pleasure to meetcha, then... I think." Letting the hand drop, he takes a little, wary step backwards, bumping into the chair behind him with a quiet "oop!" Then he glances back up at the woman, one eyebrow arching. "Me? I'm... well... I'm Master Benrak. You don't /talk/ like a drudge, either. Don't look like one, don't talk like one. So you must not be a drudge. And if you're what you say... why in shards are you /here/, doing laundry?"

Dess seems utterly confounded as her hand is grasped and shaken, blinking furiously as she pulls it back to give it a little rub with her other hand, cradling it as if the sailor might as well have broken every finger. Mouth puckered, brows about to leave her forhead, she watches him with some faint distress as he makes his own introductions. "Well...Master Benrak.." she finally replies slowly, as if the name won't fit all at once into her small mouth. "It is, er, likewise a pleasure.. I'm sure.." Clearing her throat softly, she's suddenly in motion, hands adjusting little strands of fallen hair and trying to pat down sea-inspiried frizzles, her smile returning politely, although her voice is a bit tight with a hint of indignation on her next words. "No, I assure you - I am -Not- a drudge!" A distasteful expression, even the thought leaving a bad taste on her tongue. "As I said.. my sire had a bit of a break down, and well, decided I should have a hand at life or some such nonsence. I'm sure he'll be over this silliness in a sevenday or so... I mean, honestly!" And here she laughs lightly, flicking her fingertips in exasperation, "One could hardly fault my reasonings! He wanted me to marry a Stable owner for goodness sake! ME! With a... a common stock breeder!" Green eyes roll expressively.

Benrak's lips twist into some semblance of a smile, uncertain though it may be. Seems he's not entirely used to dealing with people that're just bubbling over like this. He remarks, in a deep, gravelly voice, "Stable owners aren't /that/ bad, dear. Really! Fine people, good drinking companions!" His head shakes slowly, once, twice, thrice. "You seem to have pretty high standards if you won't even consider marrying one of them. What /do/ you consider good handfasting stock, then, woman?" With that, he takes yet another step back, and leans his rump on the edge of his desk, head inclined towards you.

Dess laughs airily and lifts slim shoulders in a dismissive way. "Oh, this one was /far/ from -fine-! Perhaps you know him.. Fellericks Stables, Master Fellerick?" She purses her lips and again her eyes skim heavenwards, flicking the fingertips of one hand as if this might relieve her of the memory. "Tall man, skinney, /pale/... big wart right on the end of his nose?" She shudders and sniffs daintily, "A piddish man.. My father offered him one glass of our good red and the man was fairly slobbering on himself, eyeing me like I was one of his breeders! He had the audacity to put his hand on my thigh!" Suddenly, she twists her lips up into a mischevious grin that's somehow haughty and troublesome all at once, a pleased spark lighting in her gaze. "Well. He didn't find me nearly so interesting once he reached a little higher! It's amazing what a good tuber tucked away in the right place can do!" She sighs now, gustily, and her grin fades to a smirk. "Unfortunately, daddums didn't see the humor. No sense of fun!"

Benrak coughs lightly - boy, he must've been thinking about that tuber. Clearing his throat, he demurs quietly, "Well, if you /really/ didn't want to handfast him... I guess you put him off rather well. I must say, that was imaginative." Here his lips curve up in an admiring smile, "You've got spirit, girl. I like that. You'll have to tell me more about your... misadventures, as it were."

Again, she smiles, this time genuinely as she flops both hands at Benrak, "Oh, I have /years/ of stories! Mummy claims I went too far this time, but really, I think the rumors will clear up in a week or so and then things will be fine - don't you?" All at once, she turns about and stalks back to the drawers, a determined expression on her elfin face. "In the meantime.. I'll just enjoy the sea a bit, take in some sun. The headmistress seems to think I'll be indespensible in the laundry room!" She actually looks proud, dashing back a forlock of hair and tucking it behind her ear before bending to pluck at an edge of one soiled article of clothing. "I told her how I rinsed out my hankies without Tinky and she assured me I'd fit right in.. Although, so far, I couldn't possibly see myself 'fitting in' with that lot! All in rags and cackling like wherry hens. It's disgraceful." She tugs out the piece of clothing she's been picking at, hanging from her fingertip by a leghoop.. a pair of Benraks underthings. Dess blinks at it slowly, then turns a thoughtful expression on the male, "Roomy." she comments, a mischevious tug at one corner of her mouth.

Benrak merely watches you bustle about, chattering noisily, his arms crossed over his chest and head nodding attentively. "Mmm-mmm." A hand reaches up to his face, fingertips idly scratching at the hinge of his jaw as you rummage about in his drawers. "I don't see you as fitting in, no. You seem too.. fine... a lady for that, dontcha know." And then, just at that moment, you find his unmentionables, and he's straightened up quick as can be, eyes popping wide. "What're you doing with these?!" He takes a step forward, and then another. "Of course they're... well, roomy! I'm a big man, what do you expect?"

Dess lights up as you straighten and come towards her, her laughter ringing merrily as she readjusts her hold on the underpants, grabbing them at either corner and inspecting them closely. "Oh yes, I can see that." she agrees, bobbing her head in false seriousness. Her cheeks are bright pink, but it's doubtful from embarrasment, probably more hinging on her amuzement as she darts a look up at you playfully. "Oh don't get your panties in a bunch!" she coos, waving them at you for effect. "By the looks of things that'd be dangerous! Now.. you just hold out your arms there, and we'll get these nice and piled up! I obviously can't take them in this dress, so you can just carry them over and we'll drop them off with those old biddys. I've already gathered all the childrens things.. been working for almost a candlemark!" Apparently, you're supposed to be impressed by this, for she certainly looks as if she believes it to be a rather long, hard day of effort. "So they shouldn't be too upset if I take the rest of the day off. Perhaps you'd join me for a bite to eat? I've yet to sample Tillek's wine.." She gives you an expectant smile, eyes bright.

Benrak grunts sharply and extends his arms out in prepraration for holding a whole mess of laundry - more out of bemusement than anything else. "Awright, then," he drawls. "Wouldn't want to mess up your fine clothes, now, would we?" That comment's just dripping with sarcasm, albeit good-naturedly. And then he heaves a sigh, and gives you a good once-over with his eyes, lips pursing together in thought before he remarks, "Something to eat sounds awful nice, actually. I've been so busy, I haven't even had time to think about food. High time I took a break, though, so I think I better join you."
Seacrafters> Benrak thinks whomever added Dess to the knot should be put in for a medal, or something.

The sarcasm is lost on Dess, who's next to never been critisized for anything, in her entire life. Indeed, her smile only draws up a notch higher and she gives a curt nod, beaming her approval, "Exactly!" she agrees - draping the pair of undies she holds over one of your great hands. Reaching back into the drawer, she plucks out a shirt by the collar next, and that joins the other garment. This might take awhile, for she doesn't appear ready to scoop up an armful at any point, and each new item of soiled laundry is pulled out individually by a well manicured index finger. "Now, you just don't worry your head about /that/! Food and drink is my /specialty/ after all.. We'll have, lets see.." she pauses in her piddling efforts, placing the finger of her opposite hand against her pursed lips and gazing off into space in thought. "Oo! Yes! A nice fillet of spiced fish.. some herb mashed tubers with a redfruit glaze.. perhaps some greens, and I /believe/ I've a bottle of fifth pass white in my quarters." She suddenly frowns a hint and bends to tug out a pair of breeches, "Which reminds me! I must find that headwoman of yours.. she said these quarters would be temporary, and I really can't spend another night in them! There's not even a looking glass, and the beds only half again my size! I must look a fright today!"

Benrak frowns as it appears that you aren't in any hurry, and his foot begins tap-tap-tapping with just a touch of impatience. "Hmm. Well, it sounds like you're doing quite well for yourself. And I do understand, really, about you not liking your quarters. That's why I stay in here, even when I'm ashore, myself. Much more private, much roomier." And then one corner of his mouth curves up in a little sly half-smile, "I'm sure if you used your... charm... that you'd be able to get much more comfortable quarters with one of the skippers around here. Some of their cabins are really quite lavish, y'see. Me, I'm not much for decorations myself, but I'm lucky - got a nice, comfortable bed and a cabin all to myself."

The last few pieces of clothing are drawn out one by one, and piled atop the rest of the mound in your arms, while Dess's expression growns once again thoughtful. Brows lifts slightly, and her eyes widen even as she peers about the cabin she stands within, her fingertips rising to once again touch lightly against her mouth. "You know.." she begins in a slow murmer, lips drawing up into an inspired little smile, "The quarters I'm in are only a little less than half this size........ " Trouble brews in her moss clear gaze, and suddenly she claps her hands together and positively glows with jubilation, two neat rows of even, white teeth, flashed at you in a wide smile. "Oh you're so kind to offer, Benrak! What a big sweety you are! Why, with a few colorful sheets and some cleaning up - I'm sure we can make it work, while maintaining our mutual privacy! You'll hardly know I'm here!" Letting out a happy little laugh, she actually skips towards the cabin door, ticking off preperations on her fingers as she goes, murmering happily to herself. "Lets see, purple and mustard yellow sheets for some color! Definately have a drudge bring in a spare cot, so Benrak will have a place to sleep.. A hanging mirror, I'm sure that can be arranged, my trunks..."

Benrak's face pales, eyes going wide. He feebly protests, "But... but..." He doesn't seem capable of anything else as he plods on helplessly after the woman, laundry in arm. This isn't what he intended! Ah, there's his voice again. "But I didn't mean in /here/! Oh, bloody shards! You are /not/ decorating my cabin!" And that's that, yep. His resolve'll probably last for one more minute, under the incessant badgering he's getting.

Dess doesn't seem to hear your flounderings about what was ment or not ment, or at least, she pays them no heed. A delighted laugh spilling from her lips, her voice dips to a mollifying tone, as one might reassure a child, "Oh now I wouldn't /dream/ of decorating your cabin! Don't you worry! I know men and their space.. Daddy just /hates/ it when Mummy has the servants redecorate things. No no - we'll just /rearange/ a few things.. to make space for my things." Uh huh.. Somehow, rearrange and redecorate don't sound too far apart, the way she says it. Already at the cabin door, she begins to float through, when suddenly she whirls and gives the cabin a quick once over, mouth pursed and brows furrowed a hint. "Hmm.. I think I'll just bring six of my trunks for starters. We'll see how they fit, and readjust from there!" Again, that flash of a smile, then she sweeps out onto the deck with swirl of green skirts and mahogany hair, a singing "Helloo!" called to one of the sailors outside, lifting a hand in a bright wave.

Benrak seems to have no choice but to follow, his mouth gaping wide open in shock. /Six/ trunks?!

Out on deck, Dess's skirts flair in the sea wind, swirling about her ankles as if her dress has become a living creature intent on entangling her. She doesn't even falter, however, and sweeps across it with pleasant waves and polite chit chat to anyone who will pause long enough to return the favor. Several men and women seem quite content to do this, as they eye the trailing Benrak, laundry loaded as he is, with poorly hidden amuzement. One young man, a boldened boy, even goes so far as to grin widely at the big Master, hitch his thumbs into the edges of his breeches, and ask - "Laundry day, eh Master Benrak? Your own or you got a few skirts in there too?" Fortunately for the lad, and perhaps unfortunately for the poor Master, Dess is quick to give the boy an airly wave and a bright smile, "Oh now arn't you the kidder! Shame for shame.. Master Benrak has been /kind/ enough to offer me space in his cabin! We're just getting things prepaired so I can move in, arn't we, Benrak?" She beams over her shoulder at the man fleetingly then sweeps past the boy, "Must move on, though dear! We've a /lot/ to do today, and we really must eat.. Men do get so grumpy when their tummies are empty! Can't have that for my new roomate, nonono!" Every word is flung from her like the notes to a song, tinkling together smoothly, and she doesn't notice the many stares they receive. The only indication that she appears to notice /anything/ out of the ordinary is her jolly, "My, but the people are friendly here! How very pleasant!" as she strolls down the docks.

Benrak merely trudges along after you, a frown creasing his ruddy face. He grunts at each stop made so you can engage in small talk, looking even more impatient with each passing moment. And as that boy approaches and makes his comments, his face darkens into a scowl, but you save the day and move on. His head turns, following said boy with his cold stare before the lad's lost in the crowd. "Hrmph." Eyes flick over to gaze at you, and he rumbles, "If you say so. I still don't see why you've got to move in with /me/...."

Down the docks, and into the Hall Dess goes.. her hair bouncing against her back with every step, and a cheerful greeting for anyone who glances her way. She's begun to hum by this point, her voice not half bad, and when she steps into the comparitively warm air within Seacraft Hall, it trills as she gives a little shiver of pleasure. "Ahh! Much better! The chill outside is like enough to set my teeth on edge.. Mummy always said a cold night is enough to give you wrinkles in the morrow, what with how your jaw tightens and all. I quite agree.. and this salty air has done absolutely /nothing/ for my hair!" Patting said hair down, chasing frizzies back with her fingertips and tucking them under heavier strands, she heads towards a small cavern branching off to one side - the smell of lye and faint buzz of voices emitting from the laundry chamber. She stops just outside, and turns about to give you a gentle little smile, her eyes dancing with good natured merriment as she pats the mound of laundry in your arms as though this might somehow comfort you. "Now now.. It makes perfect sense. It'll only be for a week or so, until Daddy realizes he's overreacted, and then off I'll go back to home." She sighs, a far off look creeping over her face as she recalls wistfully her massive rooms and servants. Calling herself back to reality, she again peers up at you, and waggles a finger admonishingly. "I couldn't possibly go about asking strange men to let me share their cabins - so since you offered - it's most reasonable for me to stay with you. Even if it is a bit drab.. I'm sure we can make it work out quite well." She purses her lips, and the odd woman actually blows you a little kiss and winks broadly, "Now there's a love. Just this way, and we'll get these taken care of. See? I knew you'd be grumpy if you got too hungry - your poor belly needs some tasty treats!"

(The two continued on.. Benrak somewhat speachless, Dess making up for it with her usual chattiness. In the end, Dess got her way.. for the moment.)