The World of Pern(tm) is copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) 1967.
The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.

This is a log of roleplay on PernMUSH, available online by permission of
Anne McCaffrey, author of the Pern novels, and recorded by A.S. Korra'ti
(piper@murkworks.net), player of Mehlani of Telgar Weyr on PernMUSH.
This log may be distributed freely as long as this header remains intact.
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Log Date: 8/24/96
Log Cast:
	Mehlani
	Devlin
Log Intro:
	It's three days after the ninth Turning Day of Mehlani, F'hlan
and Melora's daughter; life has started to return to normal again for the
little girl, and she goes about her business of trying to discover why
K'tyn has nightmares, playing with her cat Callie, and pondering what
she wants to do when she gets old enough to apprentice to a Craft. Today,
though, her business takes her to the Records Room....

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Mehlani(#4177PQace)
This is a young girl-child of about four feet in height, with a build so 
  delicate that she seems composed of very little else save twig-slender limbs 
  and a fine, soft crown of medium auburn hair. Her skin is pale, speaking of 
  unfamiliarity with the sunnier climes of Pern; her eyes, when she chances to 
  direct her gaze straight at someone so that they can be clearly seen, are 
  dusty blue of shade, set at a faint slant -- and enormous in her still 
  childishly rounded face, leaving her tiny nose and mouth almost 
  afterthoughts. Very seldom does this waif speak. When she does, her voice is 
  soft, sweetly toned, and clear of enunciation. But far more often than not, 
  she simply fixes her solemn regard on an object or person of interest, and 
  keeps it there with an attention span uncanny for a child of her apparent 
  age, as though the weight of the world depended on her drinking in every 
  detail of her surroundings through her guileless eyes.
Carrying:
Whereth(#11120)

Your location's current time: 20:59 on day 31, month 5, Turn 15, of the Tenth 
  Pass. It is a spring evening.

You walk into the records cavern, leaving the bowl behind.
Records Room(#403RJ$)
Sounds echo off the cool stone walls of the records room, and bounce hollowly 
  off the uncarpeted floor. Though perfectly neat and dust free, this room 
  seems to maintain an aura of unease, though that may be the weight of the 
  ancient records that are contained within, and the heavy decisions that have 
  been formed here. A large, stained wood table with seats stretched along one 
  side stands on a raised area to the north, up a single step from the rest of 
  the room. The east and west walls are covered, ceiling to floor, with book 
  shelves and scroll shelves containing records dating back nearly to the 
  First Interval. The most stunning feature is the broad sheet of clear 
  muscovite that stretches across the ceiling like a giant skylight. Through 
  the skylight, a blanket of grey clouds cover the skies to the horizon.
An exit leads out into the bowl.
Contents:
Devlin
Council Table
Obvious exits:
Bowl

Mehlani is heralded only by the light tread of her feet on the stone, and 
  eventually, the glint of light on her auburn hair, as she pads into the 
  Records Room.

Devlin is seated in a seat, legs tucked under him. His brow furrows as he 
  looks over a scroll. At the sound of footsteps, he looks up, eyes searching 
  out the newcomer. He smiles brightly when he spots Mehlani.
Devlin looks at you for a moment.

Mehlani pauses by a table, eyes widened a bit, then she smiles timidly.

Devlin says "Happy Turning Day, Mehlani!"

Mehlani's eyes abruptly brighten, and the smile turns wider. "That was three 
  days ago," she pipes, softly.

Devlin nods, solemnly, "But I had to wait until I had a present before I 
  could tell you so." He pushes a small, brightly wrapped box across the table 
  towards Mehlani.

Mehlani's blue eyes go round at that. She lifts her free hand -- the other is 
  curled around her inevitable companion Whereth -- as if to point at the box, 
  and breathes, "You got..."

Devlin nods. "Now. Go ahead and open it."

The girl blinks a few times, then, sets Whereth down on a chair, carefully 
  and deliberately turning the toy's face out of the light. But her eyes are 
  still wide, as she stands on her tiptoes to claim the box, then sinks back 
  to open it with the same slow care.

Devlin grins quietly, watching. As Mehlani opens the box, it reveals a 
  burnished gold pin, shaped like a gold dragon. The eyes are a pair of opals, 
  given to changing color in different light.
Devlin says, conspiratorally, "My mother used to wear that when she had to 
  talk in public. It gave her more confidence. At least, that's what Merla 
  told me."
Devlin says "*I* think it's Tiamanth, but Merla said she wasn't sure if it 
  was or if it was just a generic gold dragon."

Mehlani utters a single tiny breathless squeak at the sight of the thing 
  nestled there in its box, and she then lifts amazed eyes to you.

Devlin smiles, happily, at the reaction. "So, since I don't have any problems 
  saying my mind whether I should or not, I figured you should have it." He 
  leans back in the seat, obviously pleased with his reasoning.

Mehlani opens her mouth, closes it, then finally pipes, "I'm... I'm not... 
  I'm not a gold rider!"

Devlin shrugs his shoulders, "So? People who aren't goldriders have to talk 
  in public too."

Mehlani touches a single fingertip to the pin, and blinks rapidly. Her eyes 
  have started welling over with -- tears?

Devlin looks alarmed after a moment, the expression slowly replaces his 
  previous look of self satisfication. "'Lani? You okay?"

"It's... i-it's so... pretty!" The girl inhales and exhales rapidly, holding 
  the box in both her little hands as though afraid she's going to drop it.

Devlin nods, smiling again and relaxing a bit. "So, pin it on. Then, when you 
  want, you can sorta imagine my mom watching over you to give you support 
  when you wanna talk to people. Then it won't be so scary, right?"

Devlin
A young lad of approximately 12 turns, Devlin's appearance is topped with an 
  unruly shock of black hair. Rumpled clothing, the mark of an overactive 
  young boy, covers his lanky form. Mischief sparkles in his grey-blue gaze, 
  as he looks about himself constantly, never still unless forced. A wherhide 
  jacket, much worn and overlarge, hangs from his shoulders. The badges on the 
  arm imply that the jacket belonged to a bronzerider from Fort and Benden. 
  Beneath the jacket is the remainder of an unremarkable wardrobe. His 
  features are uneven, still filling out and maturing, but hold some promise 
  of at least a noble brow.

Mehlani finally takes the pin out of the box, gingerly, considering the weight 
  of it against her palm, and stroking it in awe. Then she looks down at her 
  plain tunic and trews, and blurts, "Wear it... right now?"

Devlin nods, "Why not? It's meant to be worn."

Mehlani swallows hard, and glances again at you, as if trying to make sure the 
  encouraging words match your expression. Her fingers trace along the 
  delicate golden wings, to pause at last on the pin's clasp.

Devlin's expression does urge her to wear it, holding a hint of uncertainty, 
  as if she might reject the gift. "Please?"

Perhaps Mehlani sees what she's looking for, for she nods shyly, and moves to 
  fasten the pin to her tunic, just to the right of her left shoulder.

Devlin relaxes a bit and smiles. "There. Feel braver?" He grins.

"I..." Mehlani's fingers still linger on the pin, as if she tries to assure 
  herself it is actually nestled there on her, poised as if about to take 
  flight off her slight form. She looks up again, eyes glimmering softly, 
  mouth opening once more.

Devlin's own smile is encouraging. "Come on, you've got a gold dragon watching 
  over you now. What's to be scared of?"

The corners of 'Lani's mouth curve up, slowly.

Devlin winks a bit. "Just picture folks standing around in their underwear. 
  They're not scary in underwear, are they?"

Mehlani abruptly giggles, even as she blushes pinkly.

Devlin grins, "Think about crusty old Velar in his long johns! So much for 
  intimidating crotchety old man, huh?"

[Mehlani had to go here, here, so we end the log...]