Langley: 23 May 2001
All references to worlds and characters based on Anne McCaffrey's fiction are copyright Anne McCaffrey, 1967,
2000, all rights reserved. The Dragonriders of Pern is registered U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, by Anne
McCaffrey. This is a roleplay log from PernMUSH at pern.mccr.org port 4201.
*** Editor's Notes: I have taken the list of eggs right off the clutch object. Langley didn't arrive at the
Clutching until the 30th egg was Clutched, so numbers 1-29 have been added after the fact. For those eggs, you'll
notice the credits (the person who made the egg in question) listed at the bottom. For numbers 30-39, I added the
credits in parentheses after the fact. If you don't want to look at the (very
pretty!) eggs, you can skip to the roleplay. ***
Lying scattered about the dark sands, you see:
1 Polished Jasper Egg
2 Blue-Hued Wraith Egg
3 Cinnamon Swirl Egg
4 Baker's Tasty Treat Egg
5 Verdant Grassy Plains Egg
6 Folded Silk Green Egg
7 Flaming Sandstorm Egg
8 Silvered Sands Egg
9 Turquoise Seaweed Egg
10 The Sigh of Sisal Egg
11 Violet Fossil Egg
12 Whispers in the Dark Egg
13 Crushed Orange Velvet Egg
14 Tricks of Gray Egg
15 Flash of Lightning Egg
16 Summer Evening Egg
17 Liquid Lightning Egg
18 Pale Winter's Wonder Egg
19 Fools Gold Egg
20 Autumn's Fading Leaves Egg
21 Mystic Tangle of Green Egg
22 Cascade of the Weavercraft Egg
23 Patterned Oils Egg
24 Tempting Treat Egg
25 Rippled Sand Sepia Egg
26 Green Globs of Gunk Egg
27 The Weavercraft Egg
28 Verdant Scaled Egg
29 Compost Heap Egg
30 Tangle of Fire Egg
31 Cool Blue Waters Egg
32 Marbled Hedgery Egg
33 Rippling Water Egg
34 Spilled Wine Egg
35 Two Stones and an Ocean Egg
36 Dark Swirls Egg
37 Nicked and Scratched Egg
38 Colorful Flashes in the Dark Egg
39 Plenty of Pern Egg
Polished Jasper Egg
As if quarried to be faultless in nature, polished jasper hones in upon rounded egg, harmonizing
ochre hues upon its angular form to a marbled finish of ruddy auburn. Regal strains of russet form a mosaic of
elegant warmth, polished surface reflecting jasper and sanguine in a marriage of twined again by shades of rust
that deepen red browned hues, salutating in a shadowed surface of auburn resonance. Tessellated finish delves as
if in to a tapestry of hues: threading shade upon shade in a seamless finish to hold together contrasts of
similarity for all time.
Amaryllia
Blue-Hued Wraith Egg
Tropical winter, where the sky slips into unimaginably pure blue reflected across the crests of
folding waves, threaded with the lazy tendrils of wandering cloud cover: An egg of such remarkable purity of color
nestles close in the simmering protection of Ista's black Sands. As purest topaz glittering beneath the
translucent ripple of a night-shrouded lagoon, the clarity of blue lends liquid grace to this finely honed sphere,
delicately wrought of luscious indigo. Misty fine wisps - the thinnest depiction of silken miasma - spirals as the
finest lace of lazy cirrus playing across the late afternoon skyline, filtering into palest fringes that dissolve
amid the wash of ultimate blue.
Langley
Cinnamon Swirl Egg
A light brown diamond shaped figure dominates the surface of this medium-sized egg, made of light
browns nearing tan to darker, resembling cinnamon. From each corner stretches a swirling, curving arm of lighter
color, fading into darkness. Off of each arm are dark shadows, elevating it to new heights. Hiding behind a dark,
purple and black egg, it attempts to escape from view. Its attention-grabbing color prevents this from happening,
however.
Tella
Baker's Tasty Treat Egg
This overly large egg sits off to the side a bit away from the others. In fact it is one of the
closest to the stands. The surface, therefore, is rather easy to discern. Along with the fact that it's brilliant
raspberry and cream surface stand out against the black of the sands. Swirls of carmine and caramel mix with a
touch of umber to give a rounded pattern spaced evenly like a treat baked upon a pan. At the center of each circle
is a touch of cream that is reminiscent to a frosted glaze.
Fluria
Verdant Grassy Plains Egg
Subtle changes dapple over this predominately green egg. As though it was covered with soft downy
moss, faint changes play like marble across the shell. Tiny speckles of dark rich green mix and merge with drab
splotches of earthy shades and delicate tendrils of bright spring hues. Pale hints of yellow and brown permeate
the verdant expanse creating contrast amid the melding shades. The understated complexity of color allows this
primarily green egg to stand about against its more vibrant siblings.
Grissa
Folded Silk Green Egg
This egg seems almost to blend in with the shadows of its fellows, as if it were shy, unwilling
to claim notice better deserved by the shining specimens of its brethren. Upon closer inspection, if you deign to
make such an inspection, you might notice the intricate layering of color on its surface, as if someone had taken
exceedingly fine, sheer cloth of rich olive color and draped it, haphazardly, over and around the egg. No pattern
is visible in the shadings of color, no imaginary animals or half-remembered scenes, nor is it possible to tell
where a Weaver might have begun draping the cloth.
Tejas
Flaming Sandstorm Egg
A storm from the depths of the Igen Desert rages across the sullen orange-red surface of this
egg, in merciless torment of the eyes. Livid clouds of ochre and gold give way to lurid bronzed reds and oranges
of dimly seen ground, thrown up into dark dunes, a testament to nature's fury.
Emne
Silvered Sands Egg
As if waves had just left the beach on a moonlit night, wet streaks of silvered sand are left
behind, in peaks and valleys along the ovoid shape of this egg. All around the black dryness of the Hatching
Ground lies in dark contrast to the luminescence of a shell that fairly pulses with Inner Light in its hollow of
darkness.
Emne
Turquoise Seaweed Egg
A drift of dark topaz strands across a deeper wash of melded turquoise and deep sea blue gives an
impression of seaweed floating in the waters of a coastal cove. Back lit by the sun creeping in through some
unseen crevice, green-gold glowing lights seep forth from beneath the weed, giving this egg both a mysterious, yet
strangely familiar appearance.
Emne
The Sigh of Sisal Egg
The sisal swirl of a girl's first Gather gown is trapped in frozen animation on the surface of
this distinctively crafted egg, the feathers of animation evident yet stilled as they dwindle. Pearled maroon
creates the hint of activity as a ribbon dancing on unseen breezes, as a trickle of iced juice frothing in a
shadowed cup. Threads of scarlet wash amid the glittering mauve, the iridescent carnation, their richer hues
detailing some shaded corner where fervent first kisses might be exchanged as Harper's music meanders from an
unseen dancing square. There's the promise of a secret in those reds; the whisper of something fervent and
giggling in the breathy fingers of pale imagination that swirl of arrested locomotion.
Langley
Violet Fossil Egg
Chasing each other in rings around the egg's evening violet surface, are the whorled remains of
some ancient creature, washed up from the ocean's depths. Arms radiate from the circling centers of each ring,
joining in a webbed dance traced in lighter shades of purple, fading to white across the smooth shell.
Emne
Whispers in the Dark Egg
Torch lit midnight roils across the surface of this ebon sphere, nearly lost amid the fine black
granules that cling to the velvet surface. Smoke, thick as dreams on hot summer nights, billows in an ethereal
coverlet across the blackened surface, bare wisps of illumination infiltrating the surface as distant but
invisible flames might dance in boiling riot. Calculating darkness ensconces the shell, a fold richer than
childish ambitions squelched by fear of the night. A distant storm brewing on the horizon, a plume of smoke from a
desperate night fire, a frozen breath in the depth of frigid night, this egg calls to mind a wealth of darkened
imagery with its wisps overlaying raven canvas.
Langley
Crushed Orange Velvet Egg
This blazing orange egg, though small, is somewhat of an eye-catcher. It lies near the stands and
is nestled closely to two blue and watery looking eggs. Luckily it is not lost amidst its larger clutchmates and
the lovely patterning on the surface can easily be viewed. Much like the fine velvet produced by the Weavercraft,
its surface catches and throws back amber and topaz colors that are mixed with an underlying deep orange. The
surface mimics the soft fabric so well that one may be led to think that it could indeed feel as such to the
touch.
Fluria
Tricks of Gray Egg
At first glance, a seemingly plain egg of an almost uniform gray color. But something in the
composite of the shell or a trick of the light casts shadows in a darker gray color evocative of dragon hide, a
concrete bit of foreshadowing. Is that the eye of a dragonet winking at you? The tip of a tail curling around the
curve of the shell? A bit like cloud watching, the viewer may see his or her own shapes.
Tamina
Flash of Lightning Egg
Standing a little by itself in the front of the clutch lies and egg that brings to mind some of
the tropical storms that occasionally pass by the Weyr. With a base color of a stormy night sky, a large tear, not
unlike a strong flash of lightning mars its surface, leaving a much whiter color across it, separating the
darkness.
Mirielle
Summer Evening Egg
Indigo stretches around this largish egg, murmuring of cool breezes, night sounds, and warm scents
of the evening. Light shades of blue and lighter shades of violet mix to form thin lined spreading out across the
surface, obscuring the view of small, white stars. These far-away suns sparkle in the distance. Darkness covers
the edges, hiding any more stars that might have been seen. This egg holds all the heavens and more in its depths,
colors on top of colors, stars on top of stars, worlds on top of worlds. Who knows what it might reveal?
Tella
Liquid Lightning Egg
Warmth emanates from this rounded form. Deep umber melts into dark amber like ever changing
clouds on a windy day. Yet not all is such darkness for above the swirling mixture of the deep gem tones spirals
and spins brilliant arcs of gold. They twist and twine across the surface in a seductive dance. With the
illuminating hue they bring the undertones of the eggs color fully to bare. Like an overfull klah mug amber
striations erupt and spill forth more showers of the glinting metallic lightning. No bit of the surface is at
least lightly spattered with the brighter coloration that makes this egg stand out among all the others. Of course
the fact that it sits on a mound all its own away from the other eggs doesn't help to single it out.
Fluria
Pale Winter's Wonder Egg
The shell of this fragile creation shows up starkly against Ista's ebony hatching sands. Smaller
than many of its clutchmates, it is wrapped in a pale, uneven zaffir. The hue darkens to deep cobalt at the very
top of the curve, interspersed with watery ultramarine and white in an almost regular, six-sided pattern. The lace
overlay drapes the ovoid in casual splendor - a cozy shawl of gossamer against the cool promise of the blue hull.
The light tones intermingle, providing not one drop of warmth. An insubstantial diamond snowflake, brought down
from the 'Reaches to please. Qirith could not hold more beauty than this small egg.
Zynassa
Fools Gold Egg
Nestled along the ground lengthwise lies the oblong egg. Sand is built up around the base to keep
it from rolling. The shell almost seems to reflect light off on some areas, but when looking closer, one can make
out dark crevices. From the mysterious and dark depths, lighter golden tones sometimes appear in flecks on the
curve of the egg, revealing themselves like the veins of some golden precious metal.
S'ris and Tamina
Autumn's Fading Leaves Egg
Dappled sunlight streaks across the fissures and crevices of this egg, turning simple earthen
tones into burnished hues of mahogany and saffron. Crisp outlines of rough ochre give way to glossy leaves of
cream, turned near white in the glare of certain lights. Dark shadow creep under the sun-scorched land, curling
deep ebony fingers into the shell. Uneven edgings of tan valiantly battle the murky inroads as they climb back
over the far curve of the shell. Ochre dust seems to be the outcome of this war, as dry as the Keroon plains in
autumn.
Zynassa
Mystic Tangle of Green Egg
Somewhat large compared to its brethren; this egg is still dwarfed by one of the other eggs that
lays near it. Despite the shadow that is cast upon it from the other egg it lets itself be known. With a swirl
here, a twist there the vibrant green of the shell is contorted about. Blackness overtakes portions of the egg in
an almost mystifying pattern of tangles and weaves. There is a depth to the single layer of hunter green and
vibrant verdant, entrancing the eye and setting you to wonder just what it might be hiding.
S'ris, edited by Fluria
Cascade of the Weavercraft Egg
Rich golden brown covers this egg like folds of fabric, Areas of dark earthy shades create the
illusion of recesses, the depths of silk that had been left in a bundle. Other areas are golden with warm sunny
highlights that play over the shell like candlelight dancing on the peeks and ridges of a satiny mountain range.
The deep colors of soil and brilliant crests of gold twist and fold, coiling about each other in some spots and
melding together in others, creating a myriad of slopes and ravines.
Grissa
Patterned Oils Egg
Indigo shadows create acrimonious finesse to stagnant egg form; rounded curves petite in the
manifestation of amplitudinous blues shouldering oil-slick delineation. Cadmium oozes in resplendent nature amid
striations of virescent lime: stealthy in conflict with azure opalescence to a radiant coif against darkness --
shining through unseen night -- of deepest blue. Oiled patterns luster in definitive smooth to electric hues
illuminated by unseen light, navy background brushing into a stippled completion to radiate in exotic finish to
rapturous insistence.
Amaryllia
Tempting Treat Egg
The shell of this egg is almost shockingly pink. Bright fuchsia seems to fairly burn eyes,
discouraging closer study. For the colorblind, or brave of heart, however, this egg provides a treasure trove of
softer shades. Hidden deep within the safety of that glaring hue are minuscule speckles of periwinkle, shading
here and there to darker violet. Uneven patches of magenta are the source of some of the more vibrant areas,
though these are matched with pale splotches of rose, daubed here and there by some baker apprentice gone mad. The
entire thing is a tempting treat - a spun sugar creation seen at gathers and other festive occasions, and surely
the best that the bakers have to offer.
Zynassa
Rippled Sand Sepia Egg
Like ripples on sand seen through a dark lens, or the vertebrae of some unknown species, small, regular markings parade across the surface of this egg. And there, around the curve, that might be the head of the animal, or the shadow of a dune. Is that a hint of green, speaking of water in desert, or just a shadow cast by the unknown as it rests? Yet for the texture apparent to eye, this egg's surface would feel, if you dared to touch it, as smooth as the finest glass blown in Crom.
Tejas
Green Globs of Gunk Egg
This medium sized egg is not much to look upon by most. Indeed it is a sloppy mixture of colors
that do not complement each other well. Brown and black and sickly green form splotches that much resemble a
toddler's fit with pea soup and klah. What doesn't help is that the sheen to the egg's surface that makes the oily
looking bits of green appear as something more disgusting. But for all its mismatched hues the egg has a certain
personality to it. It is as if the black and brown, which cover the green in great globs also, hide something
precious within.
Fluria
The Weavercraft Egg
This egg appears to be wrapped in a sort of material knitted together by someone from the Weaver
craft. On a closer examination however, one will find that the intricate pattern is actually the shell itself,
rising in gentle bumps and ridges to give it the same sort of texture as a sweater in the same pattern might have.
Mirielle
Verdant Scaled Egg
Etched in jade tones along the curved surface of this egg, lies a fine pattern of scales, not
unlike those on some of the larger fish that are drawn up in the nets from Pern's seas. Each scale is limned with
darker jade, bringing out the milky-pale hues that lie within each triangular leaflet, overlapping each other with
Smith-like precision.
Emne
Compost Heap Egg
Nestled into the warm black Istan sands, this egg, being a extremely dark fecund green, provides
very little to attract the eye as it almost disappears into the background. It is the color of heavy, humid, wild,
overgrown vegetation which, because of the swampy jungle climate, has past its period of productive growth and has
begun to decompose. It's a singularly disconcerting thought, that something as beautiful as a dragon could emerge
from such an unattractive container.
L'tan
You walk outside, into the bowl.
P'tod shrugs helplessly to Sloane, the look on his face as clear a statement as any that he'd like to know that
himself. He looks expectantly at Rhianwen. (repose)
An apathetic looking Langley skulks along from the living caverns, sort of wandering with a totally bland
expression. "I heard something about eggs," she comments, blase.
Rhianwen sighs, and nods, looking slightly regretful as she hands the hide over. "Here...I suppose I must. But
please don't believe everything he says. It wasn't my fault, honest. I didn't ask Ptomok...I mean..." She looks
down, where the toe of her slipper digs a hole in the dust, before she peeks up through long lashes, at P'tod,
smiling beguingly "I'm really a nice person, Honest." And loyal. Sloane gets a scowl, "I happen to like the fact
that they all have similar names. It's...it's cute!" So there.
Cute. Right. P'tod glances down at the hide, skimming it over, and covers a laugh with his hand. "Oh, dear. Ah...
welcome to Ista, Rhianwen," he repeats. Sloane gets a grin, then. He has to share his amusement with someone.
Sloane lifts her hand; it makes a poor visor. Sunlight turns her eyes violet. "Give me a moment," she demands of
an unseen someone -- her Joath perhaps. "Well, is she a nice person, P'tod?"
Kalista walks out of the living cavern.
Kalista walks into the Hatching Grounds through one of the large entrances.
Eyeing the girls clustered around the brownrider, Langley manages to look not only smug but *knowing* as she
continues on her way to the Hatching Grounds.
You walk in through one of the large entrances to the hatching grounds, your eyes adjusting slowly to the dimness
within.
Tejas ooos at the lastest egg. "That one reminds me of home, sort of, although it's greener than the muck heap is,
don't you think? At least it doesn't *smell* like the muck, thank Faranth. Can you imagine if it did? Even in a
space this big, it'd be too much after a while..."
Kariel smiles at this egg, "That dark dark green reminds me of the deep jungle outside Southern."
From the sands, Tuoth gives his mate a loving nuzzle as she lumbers out once again to the sands. Tired now from
her long time on the sands she moves slowly. As she reaches one spot her paws make a small depression and she
turns. Wings come up to guard whatever happens and only when she moves back to rest is the egg revealed.
From the sands,
Tangle of Fire Egg
Deep reds and scarlet mix and twine with incorporeal deep cadmium in a never-ending mesh. Tendrils of
crimson twine about ochre and dance with lemon yellow across the eggs small surface area. The shell itself is a
captivating maze of strings of color that begin and end at random. A hard pattern to follow and one that has no
one end. (Fluria)
T'mren chuckles, "They're usually not physically that like their parents in looks, Avalle. It's hard to tell who
came from who, just by looking."
From the sands, Qirith rolls the Tangle of Fire Egg in the black sand after allowing it several minutes of drying
in the hot air, and then carefully packs it in the hot black grains. She settles back down to doze.
Kariel blinks at the latest addition to the clutch, "Flaming dragons. I'll bet that one will hatch a feisty
dragonet."
Chaia refrains from commenting about the greenish egg, as she notices that angry girl from her last visit to the
weyr arrive in the stands. She smiles at her, and then turns back to the sands, murmuring, "That one is
eye-catching...like flames..."
T'mren whistles, "Wow, that one's all reddish and ...scarlet. Hm."
Up the stairs comes Langley, managing to look both smug and unconcerned at once - a knack so few people possess.
But, then, smug comes naturally to a girl like her. "Someone told me this was going on," she comments to no one in
particular, frowning at the tiers over a mug of juice with which she's come equipped.
Fluria glances up at S'ris with a smile and then back to the sands. "Ah, that is a nice one." She admits with a
little nod. "What do you think. S'ris?"
Khadira finds any comments she could make... rather unsatisfactory to describe the tangle of coloration. Instead,
she gets up and tries to find a closer seat so as to better view the eggs.
"This can be a good thing," reflects Avalle in a rare moment of thoughtfulness. "Being too much like your parents
can be awful." She takes one last look out at the eggs. "I think I'm going to go. I'll come back and see any new
ones, later; feel like I'm not getting anything done, standing around like this." With that, she heads towards the
exit with more speed than is probably safe in such a crowd, nearly running into somebody before disappearing.
Avalle walks down the stairs towards the entrance.
S'ris hmmms and leans over to peer at the egg of speculation. "I like it, fiery kinda...maybe that one is a green
with a attitude?"
Tejas's chatter continues unabated, his enthusiasm undimmed as he offers an opinion on each egg as it arrives.
Langley skulks around near the landing, frowning over the nearest seats available as if they just don't meet her
standards. "How many are there, anyway?" she asks, again of no one in particular, yet sounding very much like she
expects an answer. Promptly, if you please.
From the sands, The queen circles towards the rear of the grounds. There she crouches with wings displayed as a
screen once again. A moment later she moves back to rest next to Tuoth, leaving the latest egg where it is.
From the sands,
Cool Blue Waters Egg
For anyone that has ever been into the tropical ocean waters off of Ista, this egg may be familiar. Bathed
in the same cool colors, this egg would seem to have been dredged from one of the sandbars under the water near
the beach. Azure and cobalt dance with silver and yellow in intricate patterns. It almost appears that a
non-existent sun plays with it as the colors move back and forth with unseen and hypnotic waves.
"Thirty - no, thirty-one now," says Chaia, who has become the unofficial counter.
From the sands, Qirith moves towards the center of the black sands. As her golden wings fan out about her she
squats, tail curved at the usual angle and obscuring the view. When she moves away there is, as usually expected,
another egg. (Mirielle)
From the sands,
Marbled Hedgery Egg
As if rambling about an emerald countryside, hedge-hued greens swirl in marble effect about this egg's
medium hued surface, taking rounded hues to a delicate finish. Sage greens darken against hunter and verdant,
sharing a burgeoning glimpse of life in subtle harmony, swirling into each other with the ease of gracious climax.
Delineations of a murky forest brazen shadowed secrets against otherwise subtle glaze --breathing their last about
lowest curves, a hint of sunlight sashaying against green hues. (Amaryllia)
Fluria leans forward to look at Langley and raises a brow. She is about to reply, but Chaia says the number and
simply smiles. "You could count, Langley." She does say, though, before leaning back and turning her attention on
the eggs.
From the sands, Qirith rolls the Marbled Hedgery Egg in the black sand after allowing it several minutes of drying
in the hot air, and then carefully packs it in the hot black grains. She settles back down to doze.
Smiling back at Chaia as if she were her new best friend, Langley says, "Thank you." She drops the sketch of a
curtsy at Fluria and says with a smile, "I could, ma'am, but I figured it was a safe bet someone was already doing
so. And I was right." Not that there was even a doubt in her mind that she would be.
Kariel looks at the bluish egg and the greenish egg, "No matter how many eggs I see, I never see two the same. It
would be unbelievable if it weren't true."
Khadira sighs at the eggs and the gathered, commenting to no one in particular, "Too bad I can't stay... if there
were more like that..." but she shrugs and stands, waving to those same who greeted her, and then she's gone...
Khadira walks down the stairs towards the entrance.
Chaia returns Langley's smile somewhat warily...although, she doesn't /seem/ angry today.
Fluria shrugs one should with a sweet smile before looking back at the eggs.
S'ris snorts a little and turns to look at Langley. "Just make sure you aren't betting on any other things that
shouldn't be bet on." Talk about a cryptic sentence there.
Alaida leans, leaning forward and yawns while putting her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. It looks
like the heavy meal she had not too long ago if finally getting to her, then she pulls up before standing while
trying not to dump the redfruit pouched in her tunic. She waves and yawns to everyone. "Anyone want anymore
redfruit before I take these back to the living cavern? " she asks in her tiny voice.
Tejas ooos, bubbling with continued enthusiasm as the next two eggs make their appearances one after the other. "I
like that one,see it? It looks like the hedges back home. The ones along the edges of the pastures."
From the sands, As the thirty third egg touches the sands Qirith moves back and gently nudges sand against the
sides. With loving affection, despite her growing wearyness, she nudges it gently. Then moves back to rest with
Tuoth.
From the sands,
Rippling Water Egg
This medium sized egg doesn't stand off alone, nor does it hide behind another. Instead, it lies in the
center of a small circle of eggs. Its shadowy blue surface stands out against the sand, different colors clashing
with each other to gain attention. Light green ripples stretch out from the center of the egg in a never-ending
rhombus pattern, almost hinting on the fringes of a sky blue. Beneath these ripples is an unfathomable depth, made
mainly of deep blue-greens and darker blues. (Tella)
"Such as, sir...?" asks Langley, batting big, innocent, blue eyes at S'ris over the mug of juice she's not really
drinking. Perhaps noting Chaia's wariness, she asks the girl with a similar sort of innocence, "What? I think it's
nice of you to give an answer when you've got one." Was that a meaningful glance she just angled at Fluria?
Kariel smiles at the Qirith's most recent egg, "I like those blue patterns. Very soothing."
From the sands, Qirith rolls the Rippling Water Egg in the black sand after allowing it several minutes of drying
in the hot air, and then carefully packs it in the hot black grains. She settles back down to doze.
From the sands, As things really begin to slow down and Qirith looks even more tired, she still isn't done. For
again she rises and again moves across the sands. After a moment squating she turns to pile sand about another
egg.
From the sands,
Spilled Wine Egg
There is a sheen around this egg makes it seem frozen liquid, a timeless drop forevermore falling. The
depths of the reddish-purple outside give way to a darker color inside, only irregular bubbles marring the innards
of this egg. Tiny white pinpricks could be glow-light reflecting from the sphere, or more bubbles trapped within;
the bubbles seem to move, as they're watched - are they? Or is it just the sun?
Adriana climbs up some stairs into the seats. (Mouse)
Langley perches on her sandalled toes, peering across the Sands with a sweep of her gaze, twisting her lips into a
thoughtful wrench. "Well, it looks pretty close. Thirty-fivish, now? How many are there, usually?" she asks,
apparently having learned little about dragons themselves despite that High Reaches respite.
From the sands, Fluria moves up to her lifemate after she has settled and lays a comforting hand on her muzzle.
"There we go my sweet. It
From the sands, "It's almost over." Fluria says.
Adriana walks in quietly and takes a seat to watch.
From the sands, Qirith rolls the Spilled Wine Egg in the black sand after allowing it several minutes of drying in
the hot air, and then carefully packs it in the hot black grains. She settles back down to doze.
Alaida moves to the stairs, murmuring soft 'Pardon me' to those she passes. She silently begins to head down the
stairs.
Alaida walks down the stairs towards the entrance.
Kariel hmms happily, "I'm running out of superlatives."
S'ris once again does a quirked eyebrow up at Langely. "I do believe that's yet to be discovered." Then his eyes
go back to Fluria and the gold, even as Tuoth croons towards the pair. Though he's beaming at the clutch already.
From the sands, Qirith gives off a weary croon as she tilts her massive head towards Fluria. The two are quiet for
a moment, the young Weyrwoman foggy eyed and the queen silent.
Chaia grins at Kariel, "I feel silly calling them all beautiful, but they are. I especially like that last
one...doesn't it look like wine?"
Shaking her head, Langley says, "No, no, no. I mean, how many are there *usually*, sir? I heard something like
forty at the High Reaches, but I don't think there were that many there when *I* was there." And her experience is
all that matters, after all. "And there's not forty here, so that must be wrong. Right?" She stops, almost sips,
then asks instead, "Is she done?" (Don't expect to just sit and gloat, S'ris!)
Kariel smiles and nos to Chaia, "Yes, it does. A nice glass of freshly poured wine in a room lit by candles and no
glows."
Tejas keeps up his chatter, although he's gone back to commenting on eggs laid a while ago. Once or twice he
thinks he spots a slight change in hue, which is enough to set him speculating about whether the eggs change color
as they harden.
Enthusiasm encapsulated is a good description of this boy. He looks to be about 16, maybe a hair younger. His face
is lean, but frequently split by a wide grin. His hair is nearly black, and wavy, an odd combination with his
somewhat small, sea-green eyes, set close to his slightly hooked nose and framed by impossibly long eyelashes.
Devastatingly handsome, he certainly isn't.
Tejas is wearing a plain grey tunic and trous, probably the same thing he was wearing this morning to muck out the
stalls. Pinned to his shoulder is the knot of an apprentice herder.
S'ris smiles at Langley. "Well, it's less than forty, yes, though it is still a large clutch, and a queen egg.
Something to be proud of for his first gold catch. Like I said earlier, normal would be around twenty to thirty.
Maybe low thirties."
"Why," begins Langley, tossing her chin in that imperious way of hers, "should *he* be proud when it looks to me
like *she's* the one doing all the work, sir?"
T'mren walks down the stairs towards the entrance.
S'ris smirks just a tad as he continues regarding Langley. "Indeed. Well, tell me the first time you get pregnant.
And when the child is born, I will stroll in, slap the gentlemen on the back, and tell him he has no reason to be
proud."
From the sands, This time, Qirith and Tuoth rumble together. At eachother. -She- won't hurry up and lay the eggs.
Ane -he's- just standing there watching. Two grumpy dragons, that turn happy as some flapping and various noises
from the queen produce a metallic looking egg.
From the sands,
Two Stones and an Ocean Egg
Laying in a depression of sand, this large egg looks almost like it is swollen with water in its shape.
Along the bottom the surface reflects this image as a blue ocean swirls and waves around the horizon. Dominating
the upper half lie two marble spheres, one sunk halfway into the ocean and casting it's partial reflecting along
the glinting surface. The second circle lies resting on the top of the first one, one point of contact all that
seems to be keeping it up from sinking below into the murky depths.
From the sands, After taking a few moments to gather her strength, the massive gold dragon's belly looks somewhat
smaller than before. She even pokes a muzzle at it, then looks over to Tuoth, as if asking if he noticed.
Appearently she doesn't like what Tuoth had to say, because she starts heading over towards the bronze, only to
stop and rear up, depositing yet another lil' egg onto the sands. (S'ris)
From the sands,
Dark Swirls Egg
Colors of yellow, bronze and green hue surround this moderate sized egg. The shell is a mix of deep blue
splotches and purple swirls on a deep indigo background. Complex patterns weave back and forth across the surface
of the egg, leading the eye on a confusing journey around and around, criss-crossing and doubling back again and
again. What are these purple wispy shapes? Do you see any forms in the patches of blue? If you do, does it speak
of the dragon growing within or of you the viewer? (Kariel)
From the sands, Qirith rolls the Dark Swirls Egg in the black sand after allowing it several minutes of drying in
the hot air, and then carefully packs it in the hot black grains. She settles back down to doze.
From the sands, Qirith rolls the Dark Swirls Egg in the black sand after allowing it several minutes of drying in
the hot air, and then carefully packs it in the hot black grains. She settles back down to doze.
Langley is, at the very least, taking a moment here and there to glance over at the eggs as they arrive, though
she's not exactly rapt by the whole thing. (Self-involved people can seldom be bothered to get completely
interested in the outside world, after all.) "Well, sir, *if* I ever have children, I'll make sure you're the
first person I come and find." She flashes a saccharine smile.
"Thirty six," Chaia announces, even though no one's asked. "Poor Qirith, I bet she's exhausted."
Kariel wows not-so-quietly, "I _really_ like that one with the blue splotches and purple swirls."
From the sands, Tuoth gives a gentler croon to Qirith. An attempt to ease the queen's discomfort and grumpyness.
It seems to work, at least temporarily, for she moves out to lay another egg. Her stomach looking almost normal
now.
From the sands,
Nicked and Scratched Egg
This egg sits in the middle of a half-circle formation of eggs. While it may be at the center of the
others, there is nothing spectacular about it. An olive green shell that appears to have been gone over with a
chisel and sanding paper. The supposedly scratched surface also appears to have hollowed out grooves, which are
truly just deeper shades of the green and can be misleading to the eye. Like an old and scarred wooden or metal
tool discarded and left to mold it simply lays where it is. Unobtrusive and simple. (Fluria)
From the sands, Qirith rolls the Nicked and Scratched Egg in the black sand after allowing it several minutes of
drying in the hot air, and then carefully packs it in the hot black grains. She settles back down to doze.
S'ris chuckles at the girl, then beams at the sands as the latest egg comes forth. "I'm sure you will, though you
won't mind if I don't rejoice of the thought of your spawn terrorizing the weyr." Tsk tsk, bad, snappy Weyrleader.
From the sands, Fluria moves back to her lifemates side and runs a hand over her golden hide. "Almost done
sweetness." She says assuredly before turning to look at the galleries. "S'ris!" She says tartly and admonishing.
"Watch your tongue. Both of you." She can snap too.
Tejas has comments even about the nicked and scratched egg, as each nick seems to set him off on a new tangent.
Kariel cringes just a little at the snipping.
"Thirty six?" repeats Langley, actually taking a second to look impressed. "Poor Qirith, indeed! Can you *imagine*
having thirty six babies? I'll never have *any* babies," she adds for S'ris's benefit. "Have you ever seen what
babies do to your fig - " She snaps shut her jaw after Fluria's admonishment and tries to look absorbed in her
juice and thereby innocent.
From the sands, Perhaps for the final time Qirith crouches down over a dug out bit of sand. She fans her wings as
the egg is layed. Then turns to nose sand up around the shell before moving back towards Tuoth. The last egg? It
looks like it.
From the sands,
Colorful Flashes in the Dark Egg
Slightly separated from the others, this medium sized egg sits to one side of Qirith's clutch. Mostly
black, streaks of brilliant yellow and chevrons of dark red cover the surface of the egg. These streaks and
chevrons impart a sense that the egg is in motion or at least that it wants to spin and fly from the sands. The
pattern looks like meteors streaking across a starless black sky. Or, perhaps it's red and yellow pulses of flame
emitted by a dragon coming out of /between/. Whatever images the viewer seems to see in the swirling colors, the
sense of flight and fire bode well as these are attributes of the fighting dragons of Pern. (Kariel)
From the sands, Qirith rolls the Colorful Flashes in the Dark Egg in the black sand after allowing it several
minutes of drying in the hot air, and then carefully packs it in the hot black grains. She settles back down to
doze.
Kaimi looks up from where she was watching sleeply and raises and eyebrow at Langley's comment.
Kariel ohmys, "That's got to be a lucky egg."
From the sands, Fluria bites her lip and focuses her attention on the queen again. Eyes wide and a frown set to
her features. Qirith merely gives a mumbling croon as she takes a deep breath. "My good, strong Qirith. You have
done wonderfully." She says.
Chaia wrests her attention from S'ris and Langley to gasp, awestruck, at the last egg to appear, "Oh...that one's
marvellous..."
S'ris does indeed snap his yap shut, though smiling at Langley -almost- being impressed, then he stands up,
without saying a word, and stares over the sands and at Qirith. Have to be sure she's done before he rushes out.
From the sands, Just as the queen thought it was over and was ready to settle down to sleep another pang makes her
get up. She looks annoyed and even makes that known vocally with a shrieking `EEEeeeEEE!' of sound. But once the
last egg hits the sands she nuzzles it lovingly into place.
From the sands,
Plenty of Pern Egg
Stretching fingers of grim gray reach up over this egg like a silhouette, gripping the uneven dappling of
rich brown. The dark mass seems to drip about the lower portion of the shell like moisture in sun warmed soil and
blanket other sections like the shadow. The sections without shade almost glow with restrained life, randomly
mottled with faint highlights, touched with sunlight and the deep shades of fresh klah. (Grissa)
From the sands, Qirith rolls the Plenty of Pern Egg in the black sand after allowing it several minutes of drying
in the hot air, and then carefully packs it in the hot black grains. She settles back down to doze.
From the sands, Qirith falls asleep, exhausted, surrounded by her clutch.
From the sands, Fluria takes a few startled step back from her lifemate with one hand over her ear. "Calm down
love..." She says before the queen falls into a sleep. Then she gives a low sigh and turns to look out over the
clutch. "S'ris? That is thirty-nine eggs!" She is impressed at least.
Peering at the queen, Langley ventures to ask - watching her tongue, of course! - "How many is th - oh. I guess
that answers that," with a grateful smile down at Fluria as if that announcement were for her ears alone.
S'ris starts grinning hugely then oh so subtely jumps onto the sands to walk towards the dragons, and the
weyrwoman. But not without a backwards glance to make sure no one else tries what he just did.
P'tod climbs up some stairs into the seats.
Kariel ooos, "Fresh klah! I like that."
Tejas, too, seems impressed. Not that this has any effect on the flow of enthusiastic words from his mouth as he
comments on the last egg.
From the sands, Qirith rolls the in the black sand after allowing it several minutes of drying in the hot air,
and then carefully packs it in the hot black grains. She settles back down to doze.
Rhianwen climbs up some stairs into the seats.
S'ris walks down the seat tiers towards the dark sands.
From the sands, S'ris walks down from the galleries.
P'tod comes bounding up the steps with Rhianwen in tow and heads for the railing. He's got a mug in one hand, and
he waves his free hand, hoping to draw his weyrmate's attention.
Blyss climbs up some stairs into the seats.
From the sands, Fluria gives the Weyrleader a bright smile and steps away form her lifemate to give him a
friendly, if hearty, hug. "I can't believe it! And a gold no less!" She says excitedly to the bronzerider.
From the sands, Qirith rolls the in the black sand after allowing it several minutes of drying in the hot air,
and then carefully packs it in the hot black grains. She settles back down to doze.
From the sands, Qirith settles into a deeper doze, though it appears she hasn't finished clutching just yet.
From the sands, S'ris returns that friendly, hearty, hug, then steps back and beams. "I know!" Then he sweeps his
eyes over the clutch and stands proudly. "I think Qirith outdid herself from last time, poor thing. No Tuoth, you
-don't- need to wake her, she needs sleep."
Blyss follows just shortly behind the pair of Journeyman accompanying her on her weyrbound visit, pausing only as
she reaches the last step of the seemingly endless staircase. "This isn't the infirmary," she notes with a tinge
of annoyance within her voice as they immediately seat themselves and gesture for her to join. Reluctantly at
first, she takes a brisk glance at the eggs below and wastes not a moment more to find the nearest seat.
From the sands, Fluria turns to look at Tuoth and smiles a bit, then turns her eyes on her deeply sleeping
lifemate. "Yes...poor dear. She'll be fine though, just tired." And as she speaks she yawns as well.
P'tod sets his jaw and narrows his eyes slightly on seeing that hug, and leans over the railing, watching and
hoping to catch Fluria's eye.
Rhianwen follows P'tod up the stairs and into the galleries, looking about her with wide eyes and a wider smile -
then her gaze hits the sands, and she ohs. "Look at the eggs!" She murmurs, awed. But not for long, as she's soon
tugging on P'tod's arm, pointing "Is that her? Is that Fluria?" she insists, staring. "Who is that with her, and
why is he hugging her?"
From the sands, Qirith rolls the in the black sand after allowing it several minutes of drying in the hot air,
and then carefully packs it in the hot black grains. She settles back down to doze.
From the sands, Qirith settles into a deeper doze, though it appears she hasn't finished clutching just yet.
From the sands, S'ris chuckles at her gesture then slips a foot away so he can rest a hand on Tuoth to keep the
young excited bronze calm. "You want anything to eat? Or should we just move the bed onto the sands now so you can
nap with Qirith?"
"That's the weyrleader," P'tod says in an oddly flat tone, trying discreetly to maneuver his arm out of Rhianwen's
grip. "Fluria!" he calls, giving up on subtlety, and waves again.
From the sands, Fluria turns her attention from the clutch and her lifemate to the galleries. Seeing P'tod she
smiles and waves a hand, but remains on the sand. "Hello love!" She calls.
"I brought you some juice," P'tod calls, holding the mug out over the railing. "Thought you might be hot."
Rhianwen leans over the railing too, peering down at Fluria - and no, she hasn't taken the hint, her hand still
linked with P'tod's unused one. "Oh....the Weyrleader. Well." She seems to be mulling things over as she looks at
the people and the eggs, taking in the newness of it all. "Aren't you going to introduce me, Cousin?" she chimes
up sweetly after a moment. "She looks nice."
Quickly tired of leaning from one side to another to augment her view, Blyss rockets from her seat onto her feet
once more and slowly cruises the gallery perimeter. Halting once more to catch a glimpse of the current clutch,
she slips a quick glance toward the interaction between riders, saying nothing as she does.
Tejas finally runs out of words, or more likely, gives in to the insistence of the Journeyman Herder next to him
that they have to get up early the following morning to finish the check of the Weyr herds that provided the
reason for their coming here in the first place.
"I will, but not at the top of my lungs," P'tod replies somewhat snappishly, and waits to see if Fluria will
approach.
Having actually stopped to count *for herself*, Langley mutters to herself about being told forty was standard.
Then, after all that time of standing there, she finally decides to take a moment to seat herself, moving to claim
the spot Tejas looks to vacate with a quick smile for him.
From the sands, S'ris keeps the smile on his face, even if his words aren't heard, and leans against Tuoth,
slinging his arm around the great neck. He seems to be murmuring to his dragon, no doubt trying to talk down the
beast's pride.
From the sands, Fluria moves to the are bellow where P'tod and Rhianwen are. "Hello dear, who is your friend?" She
asks, giving the young woman a smile.
Tejas is oblivious to the young woman's smile as he chatters with the journeyman on their way down the steps.
Tejas walks down the stairs towards the entrance.
P'tod squats down to pass the mug of juice through the railing. "Cousin, actually. Father sent her-- thought the
weyr would suit her better than life at the Vintner Hall." He makes a hand gesture between the two women. "Fluria,
this is Rhianwen. Rhianwen, Fluria, weyrwoman and rider of gold Qirith."
Rhianwen darts a hurt look at P'tod for snapping, but then dimples up again, smiling brightly down at Fluria
"Hello! I'm his cousin, Rhianwen. I've come to live here at the Weyr, although not with him, because he lives with
you, he says." is burbled out in sustained chatter. "But that's okay, because I don't mind living in the dorms,
that is if the headwoman doesn't mind. Oh. And you can call me Rhi if you like. P'tod nicknamed me that right
off..wasn't that sweet of him? I've never had one before, because mother didn't allow it. Pleased to meet you,
weyrwoman Fluria." Beam.
Chaia shakes her head, and realizes she's lingered far too long...if she doesn't want her cousin to forget her
again she'd better leave. She casts a glance out at the sands, and the eggs, and the dragons, and then dashes down
the stairs.
Langley seats herself daintily, swinging her feet beneath the bench and generally managing to look like she's
paying attention to the eggs. It's anyone's guess whether or not she's really thinking about them or herself.
"Everyone's leaving," she comments a bit fretfully to herself.
Chaia walks down the stairs towards the entrance.
From the sands, Fluria raises one brow but her smile broadens into a grin. "It is very good to meet you, Rhi." She
says, reaching up to take the juice from P'tod. "Thank you dear." She tells the brownrider. "No, you can stay in
the dorms. Quite alright."
Blyss is clearly unable to find a suitable spot to just sit and stare - gawk is more like it - at the eggs just
below them; determined to find a proper post, she climbs toward the second row of benches, just behind the very
journeymen she arrived with and just slightly to the right of Langely. As she leans forward to rest her elbows
lightly upon her knees, she overhears the girl's statement and adds, "It does seem that way, doesn't it.."
P'tod lets his hand brush against Fluria's as she takes the mug, and smiles brightly at her. "You're welcome,
love. I need to head back to the weyr and console Semeth-- I think he's feeling a bit left out, in all the fuss.
Rhi, anyone here should be able to point you to the dorms, and if you can't find a headwoman tonight, the
morning'll do fine-- Fluria, do you need me to bring you anything before I turn in?"
From the sands, Fluria shakes her head. "I should be fine. I brought what I'll need for the night out. Don't worry
about me. Go settle Semeth and I'll see you tommorow." She says before looking back at Rhianwen.
P'tod nods. "All right. Well, if you think of anything you forgot, just have Qirith-- no, you can't, can you,
since she's asleep." He wrinkles his nose as he interrupts himself. "Send one of the 'lizards, and I'll come down,
okay?"
Rhianwen just beams again. "Why thank you, weyrwoman Fluria. That's very kind of you to say so......Oh, yes,
P'tod. I'll be fine. I'll just sit here and eat my bread and cheese until I get tired and then I'll ask how to
find the dorms.....thanks for letting me stay, Cousin. I do appreciate it." Lashes flutter again before she looks
back out over the sands again, finally biting into her sandwich. Mmf.
"I suppose the 'show' is over," says a slightly saddened Langley in Bliss's general direction, the feet-swinging
taking on a slower, almost despondent air. "Though you'd think people would have the courtesy not to go running
out just because there's no *new* eggs. I mean, *some* of us haven't had the time to see them all, yet, and it's
no fun doing it all alone."
Kariel chuckles quietly at Langley's comment.
Kaimi glances over to Langley and offers a small smile.
From the sands, Fluria takes a long drink of the juice and nods agreement to P'tod's words. "Alright." She says
after swallowing as a hand wipes across her lips. "Sleep well." And with that she turns to walk out amongst the
sands and view each egg closer. Though she doesn't dare to touch them.
P'tod stands and, giving a little wave to Rhianwen, turns to go. "Come find me tomorrow if you have any problems,"
he calls over his shoulder.
P'tod walks down the stairs towards the entrance.
Rhianwen watches P'tod go, then looks around the galleries, for the first time noticing the other people there.
She swallows her bite of bread and cheese and smiles. "Hello." It's said to all or one, depending on who bites at
the greeting.
"You're not alone, we're here" declares a moderately confounded Blyss as she thoughtfully drops her chin amid the
cup of her palms so to stare aimlessly at the array of eggs before them. "And anyway, they're always new to
everyone, like myself, who hasn't seen them yet," she rationalizes with a slight shrug of her shoulders.
Peering about a moment, Langley eventually looks back to Blyss with a shrug. "Wait till the candidates start
getting here. Then there'll *always* be someone in here gawking. I mean, I like having people to chat with, but
candidates are just about obsessed." She would be the expert, after all. "Hello," she returns to Rhianwen with the
quick flash of a smile.
Eva flits up into the galleries from the entrance below.
Kariel nods at Langleys' words, "You're right. At Reaches the Candidates were in the Galleries quite a lot."
Kaimi smiles, "That's what my cousin said, she was a candidate at Reaches. I haven't heard how she did yet."
From the sands, IstaW_Bldr heads out towards the entrance.
Langley points the end of her finger at Kariel and says, "I knew I'd seen you somewhere. You live at the Reaches,
right?" She raises a brow at Kaimi and says self-importantly, "What's her name? Your cousin, I mean. I stood at at
their Hatching, you know."
Rhianwen smiles back at Langley and takes another bite of her meal. "I'm Rhianwen." she announces once she's
cleared her throat of food, then subsides back into just eating as the conversation floats about her.
Blyss moistens her lips as to combat the sand's heat, squinting her gaze toward the small crowd amongst them.
Unmoved by the concept of such obsession, she merely shrugs her shoulders once again and extends a polite,
"Hello," toward Rhianwen before cryptically remarking, "Have you stood before then, you seem like you've made this
comment from experience.."
Kariel smiles at Langley, "Yes. I work in the Lower Caverns. Were you one of the Candidates for Temornath's
clutch?"
Eva chitters meekly as she finds herself a new perch.
Kaimi smiles and looks a bit excited, "Did you really, then you must know her. Amilin."
Rhianwen finishes her meal, brushing crumbs fussily from her dress. "I've never been a candidate." she notes,
looking at the one who has been thought to be one. "What's it like?" Of course, she's never been anything else,
either, except a nuisance in one form or another.
"Rhianwen?" repeats Langley, thinking about the name, it seems, before she chips up a quick smile. "Hello,
Rhianwen. Have you got a nickname? I'm Langley." Then, with all of those questions being centered around her, she
practically splits her face with a smile. "I did stand at the High Reaches, yes. It's really not a very splendid
experience. Lots of dreadful chores and people always bossing you around, and the Sands are *so* hot."
Rhianwen beams at Langley. "Oh, I do have a nickname. My cousin, P'tod, that brownrider who was just here - he
just gave it to me. It's Rhi." She announces it as if it's a queen egg itself, quite proud of it. "Nice to meet
you, Langley. Do you find chores to be awful? I don't mind them at all, myself. I had to do them all the time at
home, until it kept distracting all the boys, and then I had to stay in...." She sighs. "Silly boys. I liked doing
things. I get bored if I'm not doing things."
Kariel frowns a bit then shrugs, "There are always chores. Life doesn't happen without work. But you should see
how the Weyrlingmaster is bossing around the new weyrlings. It's merciless."
Kariel turns to the slender baker girl, "I know Amilin. She Impressed a beautfil green."
Langley makes quite a face at Rhianwen and says, "You're related to that - " Just before anything else gets out of
her mouth, she looks down at the Sands and then plasters on a smile. "Rhi? That's much easier to say. Can we all
call you Rhi, too? And I do find chores to be awful, yes. You sound like all those candidates - talking about duty
and how we all have to do our part and yadda yadda." Whether she means Kariel or Rhianwen is anyone's guess.
"Rhianwen, I'm Blyss" the healer echoes with a snap of her long fingers to append her introduction; shuttering
just slightly at each of Langley's words, she then chuckles to herself, "Chores and being bossed around - sounds
like a normal day, with the exception of those sands." And as an afterthought, she asks, "Did you get blisters on
your feet?" As usual, her thoughts return to healing.
Kaimi smiles, "She did? Really, Oh her Ma's not going to like that much, she wanted her to be a Weaver like the
most of the familly." she pauses a bit, "Well good for her, I'll have to write her a note to congradulate her."
Kariel smiles, "Please do write. She would love it."
Rhianwen smiles at Blyss. "Pleased to meet you as well.." she murmurs, before burbling back at Langley "Oh, yes.
Please do call me Rhi. It feels naughty to have a nickname since my mother would disapprove" she notes..."I always
used to do exactly as she says...sometimes it's fun, I've found, not to." And woe be to the Weyr since she
realized that! She dimples, looking from Blyss to Langley, thoroughly missing the latter's obvious dislike of her
Cousin. "And yes, I'm related to P'tod. His mother was my mother's sister, though she's dead now. His mother, not
mine." She amends, unless that was confusing. "What do you like to do, if you don't like to do chores? I mean..how
do you keep yourself busy?"
Kaimi smiles and nods, "Oh I will, I was sending her notes now and than with Shoshana when I'd see her at the
Training Center. But well then I got posted here so I don't know anyone to send it with."
Sighing gustily, Langley says to Blyss, "You know, I really have to agree with you on that." Her mutter includes
something about cleaning ash buckets, but is kept pointedly low even as she shakes her head. "No blisters,
thankfully, though I've heard horrible things can happen to candidates. Horrible, bloody things." She blinks at
Rhianwen and adds quickly, "Why, wear nice things and look pretty, of course." (What a silly question!)
"Looking pretty is necessary," Blyss admits from her posts, gently twisting her neck to one side to produce a
series of pops and cracks that are immediately heralded by a relaxed sigh. "Otherwise, there wouldn't be anything
other to do than your regular duties.."
Langley looks slightly startled by Blyss's activity, blinking at the girl. "Is that really *good* for you?" she
inquires, peering curiously. (She, of course, would never get caught doing something so brusque as popping her
neck!)
Rhianwen blinks, looking confused. "You have to work at being pretty?" she says, as if this is an entirely new
idea to her. "Well...is it fun, this wearing nice things and just sitting around looking pretty?" Maybe she'll try
it. "It sounds kind of like it would get old fast, though. I like variety in my chores. I can muck stalls and milk
goats and sew, and sweep, and cook, and.." She lists numerous things she can do (without mentioning her dubious
skill at some of them), beaming around at the others.
Adriana gives a wave to everyone in the room as she walks out.
Adriana walks down the stairs towards the entrance.
Blyss allows a coquettish flush of her tiny eyelashes to leak through her confident mien, smiling devilishly as
she does, "Of course you need to work to be pretty -" she says with a tint of vanity, "-but it is worth it." That
smile, however, widens at Langley's comment and she mildly states, "It isn't good for me at all, but it does feel
good.."
"I have chores," Langley assures, though her tone is evidence of how little she likes them or thinks about them.
"I work in the infirmary." (Using the term 'work' rather loosely.) "But that doesn't mean I don't like to look
pretty. And it does take work, yes. I mean, it can take me hours to braid my hair when I do it in all the little
plaits." She nods quickly toward Blyss, then pauses to look bemused. "It sounds horrible."
Rhianwen twines a tendril of inky black around her finger, still looking confused "But I'm pretty" she blurts out,
perfectly guileless in the saying of it. "And all I do is take a bath and brush my hair and keep my clothing neat"
she points out. "And that's not work, that's just what you should do. Good hygiene is important, my mother says. I
wonder where I'll be working, though? P'tod says the headwoman will give me a choregroup. Do you get to choose, or
does she choose for you?" is wondered, changing topics at the speed of light.
"Then just think of how much prettier you could be if you worked at it," comments Langley, prinking a bit as she
brushes a hand through her own fiery locks, smoothing them whether they need it or not. "Give me a few hours with
you, Rhi, and we could make you into a real beauty!" As for the other, she bats her hand and says, "Oh, bother the
chore groups. They just sort of stick you in one. I think I'm technically in one, but I prefer working in the
infirmary. At least it's clean in there."
"You work in the infirmary?" Enraptured by the mere thought of working in an infirmary by herself, Blyss nearly
scoots of the edge of her seat and is force to reach backward to balance herself. Luckily, her dark skin covers
the blush that races across her skin and she deftly follows the topic change instead, "You look lovely already
Rhi, you don't need to work on it - I, on the other hand, must because my hair," she toys with its prickly ends,
"is always out of control."
Kariel yawns, "Well I had best get my ride back to Reaches."
Kariel rises from her seat and heads for the stairs.
Kariel walks down the stairs towards the entrance.
Kaimi yawns as well and streches as she stands, "I think I've had enough egg watching for now as well." she offers
smiles to those still there and heads out.
Wrinkling up her nose for all that she had been praising the luxury of infirmary work, Langley says, "Well, yes. I
don't do anything *important*, of course. I just roll gauze and label numbweed and tidy shelves and the like.
Brainless chores, but they're very tidy. I have a lovely creamy rinse that would probably do wonders for your
hair, if you want some. I use it every other day or so. Keeps away the frizzes in this humidity." She waves
lightly after Kariel and Kaimi.
Rhianwen scowls a bit. "I don't want to be prettier. I was perfectly happy at Vintner's helping my Uncle and my
Cousin, but I had to come here because the boys wouldn't leave me alone." She's pouty now, yup. "So I'll just do
chores, I think." she smiles again, moods shifting like clouds across a blue sky. "I'l leave the getting prettier
bit to you, Langley?"
Blyss plucks at the frizzy strands that linger just below her brow, long enough to obstruct her view every now and
then. "That would be just wonderful - Langley, right?" she confirms as she pushes herself up to rise as she is
promptly beckoned to depart. "And speaking of the infirmary, I must go visit it I hope to see you two around," she
says as she moves to leave, smiling toward both Langley and Rhianwen as she drops down the gallery steps.
Langley preens. That really is the only way to describe sitting up straighter, combing fingers through her hair,
and generally looking pleased. "Well, if you ever decide you *do* want to be a little beauty, come and tell me. I
*love* dressing people up. See you around, Blyss," she returns with a wave.
Blyss walks down the stairs towards the entrance.
Rhianwen gives a wave to Blyss, then looks back at Langley "I told you. I am a beauty." She says patient. "Mother
always said so, and father agreed. And the boys are always saying things like that." She waves a hand, makes a
face "Oh, Rhianwen, you have such silky hair. Oh, you have such long lashes." She snorts scornfully "And they
always want to touch me, too." She ponders that. "Of course, I don't mind that so much, not like all that mush
they spout. I even like kissing. Have you been kissed, Langley?"
Just a touch acidic, Langley says, "You're missing the point, dear." Still, she goes on with a blithe shrug to
say, "I kissed a boy once. Kind of a stupid way to pass the time, I think." And what she thinks is what matters,
as we all know. "Though, if you like kissing, I bet you'll get along famously around here."
From the sands, Fluria is perched on Qirith's forearms as she just observes the eggs quietly. Qirith, meanwhile,
is completely asleep and not even stirring.
Rhianwen laughs, that babbling brook sound again. "Oh, that's what my Uncle Ptomon said. He said the Weyr was the
place for me, that I'd take to it like a child takes to sweets." She shrugs. "I don't mind kissing...but I don't
want to do it with every single boy. And that's all they think about. Being mushy and kissing." And other things.
"But what's the point that I'm missing?" is asked curiously. "I don't mean to be. I'm sorry I'm not as smart at
you seem to be, Langley." And she does seem truly regretful. "Oh, look. There's Fluria. She's my cousin P'tod's
weyrmate, you know."
Langley lifts her chin happily at that compliment - she does so love compliments, after all - and says with an air
bordering on pedantry, "Well. If you're already pretty - I mean, you are, of course - just think how pretty you
could be with a little effort? I have *such* a nice red dress you could wear, and with some flowers in your
hair..." She trails off, sighing giddily over the idea of it, then bats a hand again. "I do know, yes." She drops
her voice considerably and adds, "I really thought she'd have better taste..."
From the sands, Fluria leans back against Qirith's hide and crosses her arms. The look on her face is pretty calm,
but tense, and if one looks close enough you can see her watching Langley and Rhi out of the corner of her eye.
From the sands, S'ris is still patting and murmuring to Tuoth, then chuckles softly and turns to look over at
Fluria, then over at the other two in the stands. "Qirith still dozing?"
From the sands, "She'll be asleep for awhile yet.." Fluria replies in an absent tone of voice. "How is Tuoth?"
Rhianwen blinks. "But I told you. I don't want to be prettier." she points out again, before peering at the sands
and Fluria in particular "What's wrong with her? I thought she was nice, and I like my cousin P'tod too." she
says, her voice not lowered like Langley's - it seems she hasn't learned the finer points of whispering.
From the sands, Tuoth warbles brightly, then looks as sheepish as a dragon can be and ducks his head down to
nuzzle his rider. Can't distrub the sleeping beauty. "That speak for itself?" The two in the stands get a flicker
of his eyes before he smiles. "Think you can sneak away and get a drink with me? Even in boots, it gets
uncomfortable in here."
"I know, I know. I just like thinking about dressing you up, is all," says Langley, brushing aside that string of
commentary and peering down at the Sands for an intent moment. Rhianwen may not, but Langley has sense enough to
keep her comments pitched low...
Langley mutters to Rhianwen, "... Fluria... sure you like your... all,... real toad... She... do *so*... better
.... the... sunk pretty low to... settling for him..."
Rhianwen eyes Langley somewhat sternly as she relays /that/ confidence. "I'm not a doll, you know." she responds
tartly. "To be dressing up. And I don't think you should talk about people like that. It isn't nice." She adds,
looking back at the sands. "I like my cousin. He hasn't done anything to make me think he isn't nice, and neither
has Fluria."
From the sands, Fluria shoots a quelling look up at the stands, specifically at Langley, then nods to S'ris. "Yes,
I think so. The air in here has become quite...stiffling." She says, sliding off her lifemates forearm. But the
queen sleeps on without even noticing as Fluria heads for the exit.
From the sands, S'ris heads down the passageway to the southwest.
Langley says tightly, "I didn't mean you're a *doll*. I just thought it might be fun - for both of us." She
shrugs, water off an oiled lizard's back, as she says, "I didn't say anything bad about Fluria, did I? Like I
said, she seems very nice. Your cousin, however," she shrugs, "bothers me, and I'm not afraid to admit it."
From the sands, Fluria heads out towards the entrance.
Rhianwen frowns a bit, then smiles tentatively "no...you didn't say anything about Fluria. But he is my cousin."
And she's tenaciously loyal to that, it seems. "So maybe if you have ot admit it, you won't do so to me. It tends
to upset me. And...I'm not so sure it would be fun. I don't get all excited about clothes, although I like to wear
things that look nice." She smoothes her dress. "Sorry?" And she truly is..it shows in her face and her tone.
Langley shrugs again, apparently sympathetic for the girl but even that passively, "Well. I guess not everyone can
have the same good taste." She brushes an imagined wrinkle out of her dress then, tossing on a blithe smile to
assure, "Oh, don't be sorry about it. To each her own."
Rhianwen laughs again. "I'm not sorry about liking my cousin. I'm sorry that I offended you." She points out, then
stands. "Well...I think I'm going to go find those dorms. I'm getting quite tired. Maybe we can talk more another
day, after I've gotten settled into my choregroup." which she seems amazingly excited about. A smile appears, and
her dimples as a hand is held out. "Friends? I could use some....."
Langley says breezily, "I'm not offended. A lot of people seem to think he's just great. I - well, let's just
leave it at that." She tactfully (if you can believe that!) smiles away the rest of her comment. "Friends? Sure.
Always good things to have. If you need anything - if you get lost or someone picks on you - you can come tell me.
We'll find some way to put them in their place."
Rhianwen nods, "Thanks..that sounds nice. The being friends thing, I mean. I'll see you later!" She gives a wave,
and then off she traipses, grabbing the carrysack she had dropped earlier on her way out.
Rhianwen walks down the stairs towards the entrance.