--** Emerald Sundream Green Hatchling **-- Sharp emerald draws lavish spires of whimsical design over a hide of daydreaming green, vivid hues of fantasy glistening in rainbowed luminescence. Traces of some mundane gray powder her extremities, dusting along the sharp curve of glinting talons and clinging to the delicate spade of a sinuous tail - only to be swept into a chaos of livid greens that whirls haphazard delight onto the curve of her haunches. Slim and lithe, all a manner of vivacious curves alight with trickles of truest ruby starring her form, is this fancifully bedecked green. Trails of dandelion wander yellowish paths to delineate the landscape of her spine, forking at her shoulders to pave along the deceptive delicacy of wingbones: Ethereal frame for translucent wingsails visions of purest emerald towers rising from a bright-faced field of floral delight. Lavish with mirthful variances of jade and beryl are neckridges and daintily feminine muzzle to complete the dreamlike vision of this exuberantly emerald green. --** Erinaceous Cinereous Blue Hatchling **-- Sand and dust intermingle in greyscale raiment - smalted blues weaving incontestable patterns upon favilous curves in torpid manoeuvres, resonating in dry correlation upon lithe form. Achromatism manifests in regal throws, jettisoning variable nature in powdered nature, weaving paler still from flanks to the curves of his forked tail. Meanwhile, etiolated shadows mingle about dusk-ravaged limbs, sickly pallor reverberating in syenite to dapple ingrained striations upon neckridges doused in a pattering of pearlescent dew. Stipples of darker, sooty hues ashen in speckled resitude mangle about salient wings--stretching to infinity upon noble shores, beneath the hopeless sun that adds a false glory to his incontestable pallor, hazarding noble wishes in the contrast of dark and light manifest against talons of indigo that stand clear from ignoble background, magnified in their misplaced hue. Poverty reigns supreme amid discordant nobility: daubed in tarnished desire to bemire the future's course. --** Darkly Illumined Brown Hatchling **-- Eerie, wisped fingers of unforgiving onyx reach outward, stretching across a darkened hide of shadow-touched brown, flowing across a curved back and dribbling down onto darkened flanks. Mingled upon a long neck, there sweep elegant tendrils of misted sapphire, oddly captured amongst a confusing wrap of diluted ebony and rich, overpowering umber: Scarcely visible whispers, simple flashes of icy coloration when captured in a precise undulation. Across expansive wings cascade lush shimmers of copper, woven carefully amongst the darker traces of blackened brown, all set against a backdrop of carefully stretched wingsails of richest chocolate in gamut. Descending upon sides is a cimmerian wash, lit only by piercing smears and smudges of vibrant yellow, engulfed entirely by the cape of black though still extending elegant tendrils of alabaster, spindling through gloom-hued hide as an aura of candlelight. Below, fluidly running across stomach, haunches, and legs, are fiery imperfections upon midnight, startling luminescent shades of orange and golden, twining in bands of woven red, all obscured and melted in amongst the dusk of brown and charcoal. Twisting across a long tail are misty, wandering wraiths of azure, like to the blunted nose, and varying from night-smothered auburn that weaves across smoothened ridges. --** Gamboled in Amber Bronze Hatchling **-- Luxurious aged amber, redolent with languid midsummer's heat, encompasses the lithely constrained hide of this dapper bronze. Sprinkled with hints of summertime marigold are the strong lines of an only slightly blunted muzzle, the regally construed points of his headknobs, the sleek crests of his eyeridges, falling to sheerest umber along the sonorous length of neck, to crash in the frolicking waves of ochre that splash over sparely muscled shoulders, and the barest beach of his wingbones. The purest of copper glazes over the an artist's canvas made flesh, dalliances in rainbowed hues cavort and revel along the gossamer strength of his wingsails, shimmering and refracting with the world of movement in even the softest of lights. And yet, for all of the freedom and frolic that encompass his form, there's a wellspring of strength, an endless reserve of agility in the compact muscle of his hindquarters, so warmly imbued with the essence of amber itself. But all gaiety seems not lost, as this dance of colour carries through, twining in merry abandon, are tones of cinnamon and dusk-burned vermilion, along the debonair length of a spiritedly curved spaded tail. --** Innocently Jeweled Brown Hatchling **-- A flash of deep chestnut, highlighted by bustling flickers of bright red, stream from the very tip of this brown's headknobs, cascading over his neck ridges, continuing past the span of blue and gold speckled sandy shoulder blades right down to the tip of a neatly folded forked tail. This brilliant splattering of color pinstripes itself across the expanse of muscled chest and extends along flanks, melting into a lighter, almost luminescent moonlit sienna, cladding the forearms. A blend of mahogany flows down the powerful hind limbs to twinkling white, razor sharp claws that flash in runner patterns as they dart about. A deep umber stretches winningly across the mischievous maw and grows into a soft, well humored autumnal russet, accenting wide, innocently jeweled eyes. Each wing is dappled to the very tips with a daringly spiced cinnamon that weds into a most sweet blend of bronzed azure and golden aqua. --** Dapples of Tropical Bronze Hatchling **-- The slow, ambered curve of a sun-swept beach at noonday, with Rukbats purest rays pouring down a silkenly warm benediction, lends copper-tinged undertones to the brilliance of a bronze hide, the coolest traces of lush aqua trickling along the curve of his belly in mild intonation of the distant sea. Shadows play along the muscled curve of sturdy haunches, the dappled bronze flickering as sunlight falling through fan-like fronds, their tropical green hues showing iridescent as afternoon undergrowth toward the curve of his tail. Lavish as a thriving oasis in the heart of the sea are swaying boughs, motion arrested yet implied in the soft swirl of greenish-browns that veil wingbones, giving way to the mottled shift of mother-of-pearl threaded with liquid bronze along the translucence of wingsails. Some fluid grace limns musculature, thrumming bulk to sleek, watery poise that trickles metallic elegance, tipping neckridges as it cascades from the slope of a blunt muzzle to the aerodynamic spade of a tail. Lazily greenish lichen dapples his extremities, powdering talons with shaded undergrowth, clinging with reckless tenacity to eyeridges and jawhinge. --** Smoldering Inferno Gold Hatchling **-- Fiery plumes of sun-touched gold spill in luminescent waves upon a canvas dusted with sparks of bright white light. The raging flames trace angrily down her haunches toward the glowing embers of her tail and up in spiraling brilliance toward her neck and her perfectly shaped head. The intensity of the coloration grows with distance from the sunset hues that color her underside until, at the very tips of her wings, they reach the pinnacle of radiance. Here they are offset, however, blocked by lazy trails of blackened smoke that trace pinions exactly, lending the illusion of shadow to the otherwise vivid appendages. The path of softened gray winds languidly, tracing subtle but distinct patterns across the raging inferno of her hide. Sinews of airborne ash rise like veins of darkness along her neck, intersecting at odd points along the journey. Likewise, they color her forelimbs and back in lethargic perambulations, seeming to repel each other at one instant, then coalescing the next. They culminate at the extremity of her forelimbs, uniting into raven-hued talons dotted with tiny flecks of silver and tainted with veins of gray. Only her underside is untouched by the smoldering ash, a testament to the heat of the maelstrom. It is here that her flaxen coloration shines the brightest, unhindered and uncontainable like the radiant heart of a towering blaze. --** Bedazzled Evening Green Hatchling **-- Elegantly flows an expanse of luminescent, richly darkened hide, cast in a verdant, lush display of emerald that only deepens, as across a regally bowed spine splash inky tendrils of lonely onyx, delicately woven and twined with the overwhelming amounts of tender, soft greens. Along haunches and arched sides, these darkling hues filter away to leave in their wake a pure cast of undiluted jade, which spreads eagerly down towards a lithe stomach line. No longer is the perfection of green casts held to, as greedy flecks of tawny reach from the very base of her stomach, frothing upwards and out to speckle and dance upon the expansive stretches of hide that ripple effortlessly across the underside of this dainty lady, who, despite her diminutive size and posture, is held very proudly, and wrapped in a serene, lovely aura. Gorgeously colored she is, with luminescent slivers of the richest amber dropping smoothly along the upper portions of her spine and neck, twisting with spiraling tendrils that slowly interweave their way into the pure, shadowy casts of green, wrought forth from the night-kissed palm fronds, with a faint, silvery glint, as if from the flash of Timor, a lovely contrast to raucously compiled droplets of Rukbats rays. Slipping along a daintily carved muzzle are wispy fingers of ebon, while encompassing her gently formed legs and haunches are brighter, spirited sprays of sandy spectrums, a pleasant accompany to hooked talons, shaded with black.
This world is Pueblo 1.0 enhanced
Welcome to Threadfall MUSH!
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, used here with permission. Use or reproduction without
a license is strictly prohibited.
Long distance to Agent Smith: Serriena eyes your location..> You know I knew one day The Oracle would get mad enough to throw you in there.
You head through the narrow tunnel and into the bustling living caverns.
Living Caverns - Ista Weyr(#94RJa$)
Contents:
Anson
T'rrent
Dara
Betting Scroll
Jalani Stone
Auntie Iza
Obvious exits:
Lower Caverns Stairs Kitchens Infirmary Bowl
T'rrent strolls on in, hands in pockets, tired smile on face, destination in mind. That destination: the serving tables. T'rrent is in dire need of nutritional refreshment. With this in mind, he wanders over toward the food, grabs a tray (plates are too small) and starts piling food thereupon.
Mechelle comes up the flight of stairs from the inner caverns.
From afar, Agent Smith grins. "I like this room." :)
Mechelle disappears through the narrow tunnel to the bowl.
Anson wrinkles his nose, "But that's so....formal." he shakes his head. "I'd rather have people call me by name rather than my title. However..." the young man continues, "If you are so forgetful that you do forget people's names and such I can see the reasoning." he chuckles under his breath, "Are you that forgetful, Weyrleader?" He asks, evidently not having stopped being blunt.
Long distance to Agent Smith: Serriena giggles.
T'rrent wrinkles up his face, turning to launch the mock-angry look at Anson. "I'm not quite /that/ ancient, Candidate," comes his softly laughed response. "It is formality, yes, but it is also tradition. Every Weyrleader I've known has referred to the Candidates by title, just as I will refer to Weyrlings and riders by title as well." He piles food onto his tray, grabs a mug of juice, and heads for a table.
Carrying a load of clothes, Serriena wanders into the cavern. Yep, they are neatly pressed too. She's good at that. Of course she's also good at taking care of the kiddos, mucking, fishing... you would too after many months of doing this chore over and over. "Hello Anson." She doesn't use titles. Not much for them. "Dara!" She smiles at the girl from Ista Hold now of Ista Weyr.
Anson nods again, "Then can I ask something else?" he asks. Well he just did, but despite that the young man launches into yet another question, "Why is it that the Senior Weyrwoman of the weyr can only stand you for brief periods of time?" The stablehand-candidate asks the Weyrleader, mischief brewing in those green eyes of his.
Recently unnoticed up until now, Dara looks up from her mug of klah by the fireplace. "Yes?" she asks, eyes widening slightly to focus. Yes, well. Most people haven't wanted to say 'hi' these days, they've wanted her to go fetch this or that. "Oh, Serri! How are you..?"
Yysare comes in through the narrow tunnel from the bowl.
Yysare heads down the stairs, deeper into the Weyr.
"I'm fine," Serriena sits down near Dara. She glances at Anson as he asks T'rrent that. Probably lots of people have wondered but until now she's never met anyone who just asked without knowing him well. "Hmm..Anson won't make it to the sands," she teases waving at Yysare.
Now, one might expect such a question to irritate, or even anger the Weyrleader. But, instead of such a negative reaction, he, instead, just grins. "Old rivalries die hard," he says cryptically. "It's always been like that. We've never liked each other. We've just learned to tolerate each other, really." Serriena, Yysare, Dara - all get a smile and a wave, then. Ok, so he's a sucker for females.
R'kel comes in through the narrow tunnel from the bowl.
Falina comes in through the narrow tunnel from the bowl.
Anson raises a brow at the Weyrleader. "Rivalries...Yes, I can understand that...Magmus and I have a rivalry, but that doesn't mean we can't stand each other. In fact we're as close as brothers." he states to the girl-crazy T'rrent before glancing in Serri's direction and waving to her. "Evening Serri," he favours the female candidates with a smile as well, before grinning in R'kel's direction, "G'eve R'kel...Greenrider..." He salutes both before turning back to T'rrent for his response.
G'nar comes in through the narrow tunnel from the bowl.
T'rrent peers over at Anson for a moment, before laughing and chucking a roll at the Candidate. "See? You called /her/ by title." He, too, gives a wave and a smile to R'kel and Falina. Speaking of titles, "Heyla, Brownrider, Greenrider. How do?" He starts eating, at that point, only to have to stop and wave to G'nar just seconds later. Busy night...
"I'm sure Morpheth's quite full. He'll probably just take a bite and spit out?" Dara waves back at T'rrent, blissfully ignorant. And then waves again at her brother and his weyrmate as they enter, taking another drink from her mug. "Wonder when the eggs'll hatch," she mumbles into her klah.
"Good evening," Comes the greeting, as R'kel steps from the entrance, arm looped lightly within his Weyrmate's, and a smile worn upon his features, as his stormy gaze sweeps once across the living cavern. Noticing Anson, he dips his head into a nod, and lifts his free hand in a quick wave, "Anson," He greets, before taking notice of his sister, and smiling a bit brighter. "Oh, 'Lina, look, Dara's here!" He sure does adore his younger sister... Though, before he rushes over to greet the candidate, his attention returns upon Falina. "Are you hungry? Why don't you sit down? I'll bring you food, if you are hungry..." Drifting off, he notices T'rrent, and waves once more, "Evenin', Weyrleader!" He continues the trend of titles, "Doing very well, myself. You?"
G'nar strides into the caverns, heading for the food, but not before returning T'rrent's wave and then nodding to others - sustenance before conversation, however.
Anson laughs as he hears T'rrent and catches the roll the weyrleader throws at him. The stablehand-candidate is quick to take a bite out of said thrown roll and stretches, finding a place to sit down so he can listen to the other conversations, before finally tossing out a "I guess I can't be consistent then. I use a combination of both title and name, Weyrleader."
Zaedrial comes in through the narrow tunnel from the bowl.
G'nar turns from piling a plate, overhearing Anson, and grins "Was a time I couldn't use either without blushing and stammering." He notes to the candidate before taking a seat. "Hello, T'rrent." Is murmured, verbal greetings now forthcoming. "R'kel, Serriena." And all those others he doesn't seem to know the names of.
Magmus comes in through the narrow tunnel from the bowl.
"I'm doing wonderfully, R'kel," shouts the Weyrleader as yet /another/ person makes an entrance into the Caverns, causing T'rrent to once more pause his eating to wave. Anson is afforded yet another grin and a nod, "So do I, for most people. Candidates and Weyrlings are the only ones to whom I exclusively refer by title." He goes back to eating again. Mmmm. Food.
Falina waves the hand that's not looped around R'kel's around the room, "*Good* evening everyone!" Yes. This is one greenrider who is in a wonderful mood today. She stifles a little giggle at R'kel's sudden attention and she shakes her head a little bit, "I'm not that hungry," she assures him, patting his arm a little bit, "Don't worry about me," is added before she takes a closer look at who's actually here. "Dara! Hi! Serri! Anson!" And on. She knows more people than she thought.
Zaedrial walks into the living cavern. "Hello." He greets as he makes his way to the serving table. "Anyone need a refill, or a first fill?" He calls out loud enough for everyone in the room to hear over the din.
"Soon," Serriena says, "Although you can never truly time it until the dragons start humming." She knows that for sure. What with all the clutches her past few turns she had seen or been a part of. "are you nervous Dara about standing on the sands?"
Bursts into the Living caverns after Zaedrial, a long white linen towel wrapped around his neck like a cape of sorts. What in -faranth's- name is Magmus doing? "Ohh....erm, evenin' all." Saluting respectfully to those whom he is required to, the hunter-candidate quickly makes his way to the food table, seeking no other adventures tonight. The last time he got talkative, he ended up getting tired and sleeping...and, Magmusina was started much to his demise. Then, he talked again--and, as luck would have it, he got stuck with watching a sick Madaline for a day. No, talking is bad.
Anson grins as he glances toward G'nar. "Really? Why was that?" he asks the brownrider before giving Falina another wave, nodding to the Weyrleader and then gives Zae a shake of his head. That's a negative. He eyes Magmus, "Just -what- are you up to, Maggums?" he asks the ex-hunter candidate.
Felisha comes in through the narrow tunnel from the bowl.
Felisha heads down the stairs, deeper into the Weyr.
G'nar takes a bite of his meal, smiling over at Falina, who he seems to have missed in the crowds, and then responds to Anson...after swallowing, of course. It's only polite /not/ to talk with your mouth full "I was shy. And I talked like someone who hadn't been off the cothold in his life." Which was technically true..."Shannen, the Weyrlingmaster, made me take diction lessons from the Weyrharper." And look...isn't the difference wonderful? He takes another bite, musing "Of course, I got over my shyness. Kind of had to with a dragon like Davoth."
"Good to hear," Calls R'kel towards the Weyrleader, across the many voices that swirl about the cavern. To Falina, he leans close, and whispers in her ear, "I didn't think it would be so busy!" He pulls back, and hugs her lightly to his side, and then, starts to guide her towards the table where Dara and Serriena are seated, offering both of them a bright smile, as he releases his Weyrmate from beneath his arm, and pulls out a seat for her. He sure is hovering about her! "I'm going to get a quick snack," He states, but, not before rushing over, and reaching out, intending on ruffling up his sibling's hair, chuckling in triumph, as he hurries away. Pausing, the Weyrsecond glances towards all the new comers; G'nar, Magmus, Zae... Each of them gets a quick wave, before he steps over towards the serving table.
Long distance to Katheia: Serriena has to do something to get rid of this nervousness.
From afar, Katheia is reading!
Long distance to Katheia: Serriena laughs..whatcha reading? ;)
The girl shrugs, rather indifferently. "If I Impress, I Impress. If not, well.." She doesn't really want to think about that, really. It'd be a tad.. depressing. Though it's rather hard to depress Dara. "If not, then I've had a nice break from mucking out stables. What about you?"
From afar, Katheia grins, "The Anita Blake Vampire Chronical series by L K Hamilton.
T'rrent takes these few moments of relative obscurity to wolf down the veritable mountain of food he'd prepared for himself, pausing only to wave a quasi-response to R'kel. One must not interrupt the beast from eating, lest he slaughter the - er... Wait. Scratch that - he's already done. Hunger sated, he pushes his tray out of the way, gulps down his juice, and leans back in his chair. "Shells," he comments off-hand, "busy evening. Anxious, I take it, everyone?" That last bit directed at the local Candidates.
"No... Other than worrying about the new people tripping up hatchlings." Serriena grins. "When it's over, I'm going to go punch J'nah afterwards for not speaking to me for months on end." She's serious about that too. She grins across to Dara.
Zaedrial hearing no reply to his call for orders and piles food onto a plate. He goes over to sit with the rest of the candidates, starting in on his meal as soon as he is seated. "Very anxious. I wish that the day was here." He says.
Magmus idly grins, piling wherry and tubers onto his plate. "Hungry, to be honest bronzerider. And, I'm not doing anything outa the ordinary Anson, just got back from a swim. Really." And, his hair is still wet to proove it, as a mug is filled with the steaming brown brew known as klah. "Hey Anson, if I get some time after cleaning out my cot, you up for some tunnelsnake hunting? If I had help, I recon we could get some hunting done." Even now, Mag still trys to squeeze in hunting, like the 'Big Momma' event wasn't tramatizing enough. Hauling plate and mug over to where Anson is, the ex-hunter eases into a seat with a slight yawn--there's food to be eaten, after all!
Llilian comes in through the narrow tunnel from the bowl.
Blink. "Why isn't he speaking to you?" Dara grabs a roll from a nearby basket and munches on it thoughtfully. She really can't see a reason. Really, she can't. Dari's so innocent, isn't she.
Ismaye comes up the flight of stairs from the inner caverns.
Falina waves cheerfully at Magmus as he enters, laughing a bit more at her weyrmate, shaking her head as she slowly settles into her chair. "Hello Dara...Serri..." she greets as she does, "How're y'all doing?" she wonders, though they won't get much time to answer, for she apparently changes her mind on being hungry and she calls after R'kel, "Could you get me a breadroll or something like that?" /Then/ she turns back to the people at the table with a smile, waiting for them to answer.
Anson blinks at G'nar, then stares. "Shannen made you take diction lessons?" he asks incredulously. "You were that bad off or was she just trying to prove a point...or something." The young man boggles at the idea. "I can't see Shannen asking anyone to do that kind of thing...Course..." he pauses, "Nevermind. I'm glad you're better now though, G'nar." he pauses and takes another bite of the roll T'rrent threw at him. "Were you very anxious when people told you the Hatching could occur at any given time? When it got closer that is?" he asks G'nar, then eyes Magmus again. "Swim where?" he asks the ex-hunter. "I'm not hunting today, Mag. I can't. I'm too nervous. Course, hunting might help shake the anxiety..." the young man trails off as he catches sight of the junior, "G'eve, Llilian.."
G'nar chuckles "She said it annoyed her, the way I spoke." He murmurs, amused. He's doing quite a thorough job of cleaning his plate as he eats, interspersed with sips of klah to wash it down. "Oh, the hatching, is it? I hear it gets close...anytime now." He shrugs. "I don't remember much of anything except doing chores, to be honest. I had stood before, so it wasn't all that worrisome. And then, I was keeping others from being too nervous. I didn't have time to think about it." He smiles "I do, however, remember the heat. Horrible heat."
Never expect Ismaye to make a straight path towards the serving tables, never expect her to do it without some distraction. The Headwoman marshals drudges towards the kitchens, bustling about in preperations, all of which take place with a visage of decidedless calm, manifested in ivory features. "The long platter, Dele. The *long* one." Acerbic tongue makes firm notes, then, seemingly satisfied, the Headwoman strides for the serving table, first re-arranging slightly, then carefully pouring herself a tall glass of juice, which is sipped at with decisive calm. "Lovely."
Zaedrial just continues to consume the food in front of him, the look of it almost suggesting a few meals missed - though that is not a fact. He stays quiet, almost looking a little confused by all the conversation going on around him.
Biting his lip from trying not to laugh at Anson's first comment, the hunter turned candidates mumbles out, "Of course *you* wouldn't see her asking anyone to do that..." Sly, yes, to a point. "Hunting? Of course it'd help--," And to Falina, Mag's coutenance turns to, "I'm doing well, and yourself greenrider?" A quickened salute is given to Llilian while the candidate crams more of the food into his mouth. Substenance, thy name is wherry!
T'rrent WAVES over at Llilian, both hands scrambling about madly as he strives to get the Goldrider's attention. "Llilian!" That might help, too, of course. "Come sit down!" He chuckles. He's having fun this evening, it seems, relaxed and somewhat tired, but well fed, so all's good.
Llilian slips into the living caverns, trying her best to avoid the most major groups of people gathered about, and the Headwoman as she catches sight of her. Not that she's feeling antisocial, but she's currently rather drippy, having, it seems, only just returned from swimming, though why she didn't bother to dress for it is anyone's guess. "Evening, Anson." Someone please tell her that's not Ismaye heading over in her direction. Maybe she won't notice the junior making a mess of her nice clean floors. Oh no! T'rrent too. Off she goes at nearly a dash, heading over in his direction.
R'kel turns, and glances over his shoulder, quirking a brow in his weyrmate's direction, "Not hungry, hm?" He teases, before nodding a few times. "Sure, I'll get you a roll," He confirms, reaching out, and gathering Falina a few breadrolls, and also placing on a few slices of wherry for himself. He pours two glasses of juice, and then, weaves his way through the crowd, expertly balancing the glasses and plate. All are set down upon the table, and he seats himself aside Falina, and pushes the plate in her general direction. As Ismaye and Llilian enter, he glances up, and smiles, "Evening!" He calls, before attention is shifted upon his sister, across the table. "Dari, how's Asheron doing?" An easy topic to pester about.
"Possibly because we had a fight before T'rrent asked me to be a candidate," Serriena says this to Dara and half smiles. "I was mad..he was mad.. I don't even remember why." It has been that long.
Anson nods again to G'nar, "The heat is rather bad. It must be worse with only thongs or sandals on." he snickers, "And you're right, I don't think I'll ever forget these chores. Course, all they do is prepare you for the distant possibility of weyrlinghood, right?" he asks the brownrider before waving to Zae, not having spotted him. Then finally, looking to Magmus he wrinkles his nose. "Hey, I can't help liking the greenrider, Mag." He moves out of his seat to get some fish, then finally sits back down. He smiles back at Llilian, then stops dead, blanching at the sight of the Headwoman. "G'eve I-i-ismaye..." He even stutters. Terribly at that.
Falina continues to laugh softly, then grins at Magmus, "Oh, I'm doing perfectly fine, considering." There's something there. Silly girl needs to learn what she's told to whom and when. Oh well. At R'kel's teasing, she just shakes her head, "Well, I wasn't! But now I am. So there." She chuckles as she takes one of the rolls, nibbling it a little bit. "Thanks, Rik," she adds. An eyebrow is quirked at Anson at his stuttering, but no more than that. Food must be focused upon, yes.
T'rrent peers about, looking for the source of Llilian's apparent paranoia, but gives up after only a second or two. He's got more amusing things in mind at present. "Ah," he says as she approaches. "Being wet might help with the heat, if the eggs hatch tonight," he says, wide grin lending light to his lips. "I wonder if they will." All of this said just loud enough to be heard by the Candidates, of course. He'd laugh maniacally if he could.
Ismaye returns various nods with an imperious tilt to her head, graciously allowing the corners of her lips to stretch into the semblance of a smile--although hardly more than that semblance. "Something the matter, candidate?" she asks of Anson, weaving her way through the crowds to select a table, although she refrains from seating herself, juice still in hand. Llilian's rather damp place in the caverns has been noted -- her expression showing concernation, perhaps even mild annoyance -- although she refrains from real verbal taking down. "Forgot to bring a towel, Llilian?" she asks, although whether she'll be heard in the plethora of conversatios is another thing altogether.
G'nar lifts a large hand to wave to Llilian, than laughs at Anson's naivete. "Ahh...is that what they are supposed to do?" he murmurs. "They come nowhere close, if so. Candidacy is....a day in paradise compared with weyrlinghood." He grins, pushing away his emptied plate. "The only nice thing about Weyrlinghood is that you have a lifemate to share it with...although you still end up doing all the work."
"Ah," remarks the girl
Zaedrial groans quietly as he overhears T'rrent's comment, "Why do they tease us like that?" He whispers to those around him.
Swimming? Magmus learned his lesson the hard-way, always bring a towel...and in fact, that same one is still draped around the candidates shoulders like a cape of sorts. With G'nars words, Magmus finds himself staring blankly at the brownrider. "Ermm...Aye...work, hard." Nearly stuttering, perhaps it's best to have pretended not to hear T'rrent. The last time he 'heard' him, he got stuck with Madaline...ugg. Look what trouble -that- started. "So, you think you'd be up for some hunting Anson? I think I'll be going soon, after I finish my dinner." Finish? Hah! That won't be anytime soon, unless his eyes are bigger then his stomach. Head is lowered, and wherry raised as the ex-hunter continues to gorge himself.
Llilian manages a laugh, as she settles down beside T'rrent, well, sort of beside, sort of trying to get behind, but that doesn't work, "Wouldn't that be exciting, shell, shards, creeling dragonets, a whole evening of bliss." Ismaye's voice, when it's sent in her direction does reach her though, and Llilian's voice, when it's lifted in answer is contrite. Whatever knot she may wear on her shoulder, this is the Headwoman's domain, "Yes, Ismaye. I didn't have time to bring one before Isyrath went off to the beach."
Anson groans as he hears T'rrent. "Stop that!" he exclaims. "I'm nervous as it is already, Weyrleader!" he sighs, shaking his head at him before ducking his head at Ismaye's voice. "Nothing Headwoman. Nothing at all." Exactly. Just as long as Ismaye's more annoyed at the junior than him, he's better off. He wrinkles his nose at G'nar, "Weyrlinghood is more rigorous than what we candidates have to go through, G'nar?" He asks curiously. Then finally nods to Mag. "Yeah, hunting might calm the nerves. Let me eat first, would you?"
"Oh, don't be nervous, Candidate," says T'rrent in Anson's direction. "It's not /that/ bad, is it? Shells, it could be several days away. Or, of course, it could be only a few minutes from now - who knows." Ah, it's so fun. He lets out another laugh of pure evil, and leans back farther in his chair. If Karma were any concern to him, he'd probably fall over, but we'll leave him as is for no, I think.
Zaedrial pushes away the empty plate that one had a pile of food on it. He remains quiet, contently looking around the living cavern right now, watching the festivities that seem to be occuring.
G'nar nods to Anson, settling back in his seat to peruse the crowded caverns, before looking over at Llilian enquiringly "How is Isyrath?" he asks politely, before taking a sip of klah and smiling at Ismaye "Headwoman, your cooks have outdone themselves."
Ismaye is indeed mistress of her domain, and--well, she's not likely to give that power up. "Of course," comes a sweet answer to Llilian, dubious eyes pressed towards drips upon the floor. "Perhaps, next time--Oh, but I am quite sure that you know that." Friend or no friend, there's no difference when it comes to the upkeep of Ismaye's caverns. She straightens, returning Anson's comment with one of her own, tart, acerbic, but with a cloying beneath it -- all very scary. "Nothing? Train your expression, candidate, in that case." Her smile does widen, if only marginally, towards G'nar, as she raises her glass in approval of the comment, "Thank you, I must admit that I agree. I will pass on your compliments, of course." Maybe. If she gets the chance.
Serriena sits in her chair and taps her foot. "Excuse me." She gets up and heads for the lower caverns. Nervous? No... bathroom? Yes! She's got that hop-walk of someone who has to go pretty badly too.
You follow a flight of stairs deeper into the Weyr caverns.
Zaedrial comes in from the living caverns, letting the wooden door close behind him.
Zaedrial heads over to the southern cavern.
You head into the adjacent southern cavern.
You head into the candidate barracks.
Felisha peers up at Zaedrial with a smile upon her face. Eyebrow raised in inquiry. Brushing her blonde hair away from her face, which is let down instead of kept tightly behind her head. "Tonight? Three Days? How evil they are." Or something like that.
Yysare sits on the edge of her cot, talking loudly and animatedly to one of the other young candidates. Maybe her throat will be sore by the time the hatching goes on, and she won't be jabber-jawing through the whole thing. FOr now, however, her and her gab-partner are barely drawing a breath before continuing.
Rhayna chuckles quietly. "I'm not surprised," is her quiet reply, scritching the very proddy Sunrays on her shoulder.
Riddyn shrugs a bit at Zaedrial. "They're like that. I wouldn't worry about it. The eggs'll hatch when they're ready too, and not a moment before." If he's so cool and collected, why is the pile of stone chips only getting larger at his feet, with no disernable shape coming to the stone itself?
Zaedrial sighs, still being melodramatic, "But don't they know what it does to us candidates?" He asks, the obvious answer being of course they know because they've been there before.
Gretchen *was* sleeping. It's such a nice practice. She'd be quick to suggest it to anyone. But now, from her cot, she's heard all the nattering, and so her head lifts from where it had been face-down in a pillow, and she narrows her eyes on Zae. "Yea. They'll hatch when they hatch. No sooner, no later." Eyes flick to Riddyn, and she pulls her arms out from under her. "How much do you charge for those, anyway? I want one." Blunt? That's not the half of it. "Or can I have on for free?"
Katheia eventually comes in from her chores and just sighs, as she waves to everyone. "I feel like a shriveled up red fruit. Laundry duty is definitely not my favorite one." With a grump the girl goes to her cot and plops down in it, her clothes splashed here and there from the water.
Riddyn glances over at Gretchen and grins. "You can get one for free, for I never charge. Though if you want something specific, and not random, it'll take a few days."
Solonor has arrived.
Zaedrial doesn't say anything else, just nodding his head in agreement with what the other candidates have been saying. He lies on his back, one arm over his eyes and the other just dangles off his cot.
Felisha narrows her eyes, "Oh yeah, talk about chores... I had to wander around all day trying to figure out if anyone had anything for me to repair. Do you see these hands? They're /delicate/... Of course, now they're ugly, red, and blistered." She pushes herself up into sitting position, legs hanging off the side of her cot, "Not attractive at all."
Barest respite from heat has come to Ista on this soft midwinter evening. Cooling breezes dance 'neath the first hints of starlight, doleful and silent, until... Caught on the wave of the winds spiraling about the weyr, the thrum of dragonvoice, growing and redoubling until the sound fairly vibrates the very stone into which the Weyr's built, countless voices rising in welcoming chorus. In an instant, all the weyr is abuzz with activity. The eggs hatch.
Gretchen blinks, and just sort of...stares at Riddyn. "No charge? Well...there should be. They're pretty. And stuff." Right. "And I had repairs, so...I feel ya, Felisha." Heh. Then it's back to Riddyn. "I want something random. Let your creativity run rampant, if you want." Or something. She too swings her legs around, and leans over to flip open the lid to her clothespress.
Rummage...rummage. Then she pulls out her Candiate robe, and stares at *it* instead. "I never gave Maggy his sewing lesson," she mutters to herself, ankles crossing. And then...she hears It. Yes. It. "Oh...Faranth...is that what I think it is?"
A'poc comes in from the southern cavern.
Felisha blinks suddenly at the thrumming that begins. "Oh my..." She says, head becoming a bit dizzy as she stands suddenly, her whole body seeming to vibrate with excitement. "Can't be.. The said three days.." Or, so she wishes they did.
Mechelle comes in from the southern cavern.
Zaedrial suddenly sits up on his cot, "Anyone else hear that?" He asks, looking
around at the rest of the candidates in the area.
Yysare manages to stop talking and draw a breath just in time to hear the humming. For a moment, there's blessed silence, before she blurts out, "Is that what I think is it? The dragons, are they humming? That means the eggs are hatching, doesn't it? Do we go to the sands yet? Is it time yet? Oh, where's my robe? I hope I got it finished and it looks right."
Valdair comes in from the southern cavern.
Magmus comes in from the southern cavern.
Anson comes in from the southern cavern.
Asmidiske comes in from the southern cavern.
Solonor looks up from his thoughts when the thrumming starts, pushing off of the wall he was leaning on.
Serriena strides into the barracks. She's not rushing this. No point. When the eggs hatch, they hatch. Of course that distant murmur of dragons is definitely heard through the stone. "Oh it's time," Her voice doesn't change, you'd think it was just time to go to work. She settles the basket of laundry down. Well there goes that.
In comes A'poc, grinning to split his face in half. "Can be. Is," he says right after Felisha, snapping his fingers. "Anyone not in their robes in two minutes gets left behind." The twinkle in his eye might suggest a jest - MIGHT.
Mechelle rushes into the caverns, "It's happening! Did you hear it?" she runs to her cot, throwing things this way and that until she finds her robe. Surely this usually practical nanny isn't /excited/?
Katheia is on her cot and just yawns, before she realizes what that sound is, "Is that what I think it is?" Fidgeting now the girl sits up in her cot and looks wide-eyed at everyone around her. With an even wider eyed stare at A'poc the candidate rises to her feet and starts rustling for her robe.
Riddyn lifts his head, listening, and nods to himself. "Looks like it's gonna be tonight." He looks over to Yysare, sending a smile in the girl's direction. "Aye, lass, that'd be the dragons. Best get ready."
Magmus trots in after a crowd of rushing candidates, still caught in a tizzy of events. "Faranth, I'd never woulda guessed tonight! Robes..yes..robe..." Frantically the hunter-candidate searches his press...now if he had kept it semi-clean, this problem would have not happened now would it.
Dara comes in from the southern cavern.
Asmidiske is quiet, excitement warring with shy temperment as he follows the others in and moves quietely to locate his own robe and slide into it. Straw-like hair is always out of place, it is today as well. With one hand, he pushes at it, the efforts to get it out of his eyes having little effect.
Solonor walks over to where he left his robe and puts it on. "I thought the eggs felt rather hard today......"
A'poc pulls a few napping candidates out of their cots by their feet, earning groans for his efforts. "No time for rest! Up! Put this on!" He shoves white robes haphazardly at people. "Don't care if it's not yours. Better than naked, eh? Up, up! When you're dressed, get in a line against that wall. No dallying. Up, up!"
Felisha blinks suddenly at A'poc, "/Two/ minutes?" Eeeck. She quickly dives under her cot to grab the robe which she had so cleverly managed to fix up. She quickly slips it over her arms and sthen smiles, satisfied.
Sirrala like everyone else, is slightly wide-eyed as she hears the thrumming and then A'poc's words. Trying to stay calm and composed the girl rises to her feet and starts to get her robe on, quickly.
Rhayna blinks for a few moments, listening to the sound of the humming. "It's starting, isn't it?"
Yysare drops down onto the floor, reaching to grab for her robe where it lays. "Oh!" she says in breathless wonder. "Where's my robe? Where are my sandles Oh, here they are. I gotta put them on." she adds, even as she's wriggling out of her clothing, trying to get the robe on. Even that doesn't silence her, however: "Where is everyone going to be? Oh, I'm so excited! I've waited forever for this. I can hardly wait until we're out there with the eggs and the dragons and the hot sansd, oh I hope my sandles are going to keep my feet cool enough to stand there without dancing around."
Mechelle races into her robe, not even an inch of bare flesh seen, she moves so fast. Oh, my...This is /it/...It's now...After her robe is on, she goes obediantly over to the wall, leaning against it.
Serriena glances at A'poc. "You wouldn't leave us behind would you? I mean if one of us wasn't out there, doesn't that mean the hatchling doesn't have his/her pick of candidates?" She tries to remain a little bit logical as she moves over to her cot and press. Ah this candidate robe has been through much. She slips it on over her head after undressing. "Time." She moves against the wall. No worries.
Zaedrial crawls down the length of his cot, scrambling to get to the cloth press that sits at the end of it. He grabs the white robe that is stored inside, pulling off the shirt he is currently wearing before tugging the robe over his head. After the white garmet falls to his knees, Zaedrial proceeds to remove his shorts and straps on the sandals. He then lines up on the wall as indicated.
Zoom. There goes Valdair, entering the barracks right on Mechelle's heels. Hair, still slightly damp, is paid no mind as he bounds over to his cot to get his robe. A slight grin is flashed in Mechelle's direction, and whether she sees it or not, he doesn't really mind. Gotta get that robe on. Swish! The sound of flying cloth is heard, and within a few moments he's tieing the makeshift white cloth belt around his waist, robe on.
Gretchen heard that. She nods quickly at Zae, eyes wide. "Shards!" Right. Interesting thing, that. Ahem. She looks down at the robe in her hands, and blinks. Then it registers. She's supposed to put it *on*! Quickly she gets to her feet, and disappears into a changing area. Moments later - she's sure a quick dresser, eh? - she returns, discarded clothes in her hands. Those get tossed to her cot, and she smoothes the white fabric over her form. "Done!" Then she's up against that wall. You can even hear the impact of her back and its surface.
Katheia is quick to pull her robe on and procede to the wall, fidgeting nervously as she moves over the ex-healer just sort of stares at everyone. Finally she manages to gives those few candidates nearest her a nervous smile, "I"m ready!"
Riddyn remembers the drill, stripping his clothes and pulling on his robe, settling it with a brief tug. "Ah... it -does- still fit." Then he moves to the wall with the others, trying to at least get close to Yysare.
Anson nearly gets bowled over by two hulking mancandidates. "Stop that you two! Tiomran, your shoe's on my cot, would you get it off. I don't want to walk on the sands with a sharding dirty robe!" he sighs and makes his way to his cot, the young man's nerves certainly going full tilt. He soon strips down quickly and puts his robe on. "I can't put this on too quickly or it will rip!" he shouts to Urena who seems rather intent on getting hers on as fast as possible. And with that, he finally puts his robe on, takes his boots off and puts his thongs on. "Gah...Mag! Where are you?" Mass chaos ensues as he watches the other numerous candidates doing the same as he in the barracks.
Yysare finishes the dressing, styanding up and clittering over to stand against the wall as well. "Isn't this exciting?" she says at Riddyn, reaching to snag for his hand without even asking and practically bouncing up and down, wide-eyed. "We're actually going out there! I can hardly wait! It's going to be so exciting. DO you think you'll get a dragon? DO you think I'll get a dragon?"
"There! On my cot, yeesh..what was I thinking, I knew I shoulda kept it cleaner!" Magmus exclaims, frantically leaping atop his cot to grab the rather tattered looking robe. At least it's white, very white. Hastily, Magmus disapeers under the istan-hued sheets only to reapeer clothed in the robe. "Sandals..uggg!" Dropping to the floor, the ex-hunter reaches under his cot to slip the bleached things on, looking back to Anson. "I'm right here, just hurry Anson! No time to delay, it's here." Left is on right, and right on left...meep! Quickly, Mag corrects the mistake.
Valdair allows a slight shudder to pass through him, nervousness of the moment finally seeming to grip him. Head shakes. "This is it..." Words whispered, hardly audiable under his own breath, and he moves into line with the other dressed candidates, ready, and awaiting the moment.
Sirrala is also up against the wall, carefully smoothing her robe down; she doesn't want any wrinkles on it or anything.
A'poc climbs up on to a cot, which is fortunately empty at the time, and cups his hands over his mouth. "Anson and Asmidiske! You boys lead the way! Don't forget to bow else Isyrath might snap off your heads!!"
Serriena stands between Rilitsa and Senaya, two girls who are twin images of each other down to their honey colored hair and deep ebony eyes. Strangely the two twins were searched separately at an Igen Cothold, first by bronze Rendiakath for Rilitsa and then by bronze Pongokuth for Senaya. Serriena and co. wait for A'poc to call their names.
Rhayna quickly dresses in her robe, sighing quietly and awaiting her name to be called.
Solonor is awaiting his name to be called as he leans against the wall, a thoughtfull expression on his face.
Anson blinks at A'poc. "Me?! Already? But..." he sighs and nods, trudging toward the entrance to the sands. "I won't forget!" the young man quick says to A'poc. "Here goes nothing...Good luck everyone..." And with that, the candidate steps out to face the mass chaos that is the Hatching.
Anson disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.
Mechelle stands still against the wall, face a bit pale against the white robe. She stays silent, listening to A'poc , watching as the candidates begin to leave. "Good luck, Anson." she says just as he disappears.
Riddyn doesn't mind his hand getting grabbed by the bouncy Yysare. "Easy on lass. You'll be needing your wits about you out there." Heh. Like -he'd- let anything bad happen to her. "Well.. it's the dragons choice, little one. But I'm sure that some day, a dragon would be proud to have you for a lifemate."
"Aaaagh.." groans Dara as an anonymous Candidate shoves her against the stairwell, making her hop-limp down to her cot. "Ow," is remarked, as she shuffles amongst the candidates, trying to avoid any that are dressing -- yes, that'd be all of them. A white robe is grabbed; sandals too, much too large for her.. maybe they were R'kel's at one point. The girl drops them, steps into the shoes, slips the tunic over her head.. and emits a muffled yelp as something comes out of Between and lands on her head, eyes whirling with excitement. "Gah! Asher! Sit on the cot, there's a good flit.." Hurriedly, Dara-candidate shuffles into her robe and straightens, blinking dazedly as a bronze firelizard comes to land on her shoulder.
Felisha swallows nervously and stands, looking oddly like a statue and off in some other world, just waiting for her name.
A'poc consults the list he tugs out of his pocket, scanning the names and calling out a few more. Two at a time, always. "Let's see... Dara and Felisha! You're up, ladies! Bow nice, now!"
Asmidiske disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.
Katheia waits nervously, trying not to fidget too much, but her nerves get to her and she idly fingers the cloth belt that circles her waist. Chewing nervously on her lip as well the girl watches the first two boys leave, before her gaze flickers to the next batch of names called.
Felisha disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.
"Iwhat?" Blinkblink. Dara seems to be speeded up considerably, like a slowly-whirling dragon eye suddenly spinning at a rapid, almost blinding pace. "I.. oh. Lovely then." Looking like she's about to faint, the girl shuffles out.
Magmus nervously joins the other candidates that await their turn, taking in deep breathe, "Oh dear..I suppose I won't need to clean the press tonight?" Joking, even now Magmus is--anything to tide away the nervousness the tanned lad feels. Hard, hunter-like facade is quickly forgotten as he trys to retain a semblance of normal breathing. Shards, he's not even on the sands yet and he's swetting!
Dara disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.
Zaedrial walks over to stand beside Katheia, trying to give the former healer a encouraging smile. He too waits for his name to be called, rubbing his robe smooth.
Mechelle eyes the tunnel with a bit of surprise, actually. She never figured there was another entrance here...but then, she's never had time to explore much, being so busy at chores. She gnaws on her lower lip a bit nervously.
A'poc beckons out a few more candidates, two at a time, two at a time. "Which brings us to... Gretchen and Katheia! Go, go! You look so pretty, girls." He grins at his list, never having even seen the girls in question.
Yysare squeals softly, givnig another couple excited bounces as she awaits her name being called. "Oh, I know you're right." she declares to Riddyn. "and I know there's a dragon somewhere for you too, and I hope they're both out there, because it'd be really neat to be Weyrlings together and things." A breath is drawn. "Will you keep holding my hand while we go out there? I don't wanna be standing out there all alone, and I want to have someone to talk to and you're a good one to talk to."
Oh fine time. She just went. Serriena tries to sneak out for a minute. Something about hatchings make her stomach nervous and then she's feeling like she needs to go to the bathroom all night. She sneaks out the door for just a minute. surely it won't take that long.
Katheia smiles at Zae before she reaches out to give his arm a squeeze, "Good luck!" Her eyes widen as her name is called, "Faranth! Good luck!" She waves quiclky before she moves forward toward the sands.
Gretchen doesn't say anything when her name is called. Jaw muscles clench, a deep breath is drawn, and then she's off, sandal-bottoms whisking against the ground. "Pretty...just wait 'til I..." The rest is lost though, as she disappears.
Gretchen disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.
Katheia disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.
Serriena comes back into the barracks minutes later. Some more candidates have gone. Oh. She hopes her name wasn't called out yet.
A'poc runs a thick forefinger down his list, mumbling to himself and bouncing a little on the cot he's chosen as his dais. "Ms... Ms... Where are all our M names... Ah! Magmus! Mechelle! Kiss one last time, dearies, and scoot!" He doesn't HAVE to make sense. He's A'poc.
Mechelle stands still for a moment, eyes on A'poc. Yes, he /did/ call her name, didn't he? She moves forward, like one in a dream. "It's time...you'll do fine..." she waves to the candidates that are left, smiles at Valdair, then heads down the tunnel, to whatever awaits.
Mechelle disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.
Magmus blinks. Magmus...wait, thats him! "Kiss? Errrm...ummm." He's confused, very much so, however the candidate manages to offer Mechelle a cheerful smile before he to heads off to meet fate itself.
Magmus disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.
A'poc frowns as he ticks off a few more names. "Madaline? Yes, you, too. Go!" He waves the girl on and then adds, "Rhayna! Riddyn! Get out there now! Don't make me drag you by the napes of your scrawny necks!"
Rhayna blinks and stands, heading towards the door with a gulp and wide eyes.
Rhayna disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.
Riddyn's own excitement has been surpressed. He's been this route before, and like last time, he's pretty certain of the out come. But still, a Hatching -is- a momentuous occasion, and his ice blue eyes shine. "We'll see lass. Looks like we're being called in order... if we don't go out together, be looking for me, and I'll be looking for you." He says to Yysare. And then.. oh! His name's been called. "You'll find me, little one, or I'll find you." he says reasurringly before disengaging his hand to head out.
Riddyn disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.
A'poc bellows this time, real good over the dissipating din, "Serriena! Where are you? Well, wherever it is, you aren't supposed to be there! Onto the Sands, and take Sirrala with you!"
Yysare finds her hand empty. "Hey, no fair!" she calls after the man. "You said you'd be holding my hand out there. Yuo can't leave without me. That's... just not fair." she argues. "Well I guess I'll have to actch up to him." she says to noone in particular, eagerly knitting her hands and watching the people as they pass to the Sands beyond. "Why in order?" she asks A'poc. "Y is so far don the list, and it'll take forever for me to get called, and then Riddyn will have someone else I'll bet."
Serriena moves back to her place in line although Rilitsa and Senaya have already vacated the spot. "What?" She looks at A'poc. "I'm right here." She looks at Sirrala. "Want me to take your hand?" she winks at the weaver because this is entirely almost too comical. "Shards you'd think he thought you were a five turn old," she grumbles heading out.
Zaedrial stands as the number of candidates increasingly diminishes. He nervously tugs at the edge of his robe, looking at Yysare, "Well, being a Z, I'll be last." He says, shrugging his shoulders.
You follow the winding path of a tunnel to where it meets the Hatching Sands.
Hatching Sands - Ista Weyr(#78RJ$)
Contents:
Riddyn
Rhayna
Magmus
Mechelle
Katheia
Gretchen
Dara
Felisha
Asmidiske
Anson
G'nar
T'yari
Llilian
T'rrent
Morpheth
Isyrath
Mottled Eggs
Obvious exits:
Sandy Niche Entrance
Sirrala comes out from a half-obscured tunnel under the galleries.
Solonor comes out from a half-obscured tunnel under the galleries.
Valdair comes out from a half-obscured tunnel under the galleries.
Solonor walks onto the sands, bowing graciously to Isyrath and the WeyrLeaders. He then gets into line with the other candidates, a hopefull expression on his face as he watches the eggs.
Riddyn steps out onto the Sands, giving his old robe one last tug to straighten it. Hopefully the seams will hold. An almost picture perfect bow is given to the Dam and Sire, their lifemates recieving a nod of respect.. though Llilian also gets a smile from the Candidate. Then he's moving to join the others, placing himself where he can keep an eye on the entrance, watching and waiting for someone to come out after him.
Sirrala walks out onto the sands, dipping an elegant bow to Queen and Bronze and then to their respective riders. She takes a moment to straighten her robe, sorting out a slightly skew-iff hem before glancing about the rocking eggs and finding a spot near Katheia.
G'nar is there immediately, helping the blue and his new lifemate off of the sands and out of the general chaos that is beginning to ensue, grinning in remembrance at the boy's stunned expression.
Zaedrial comes out from a half-obscured tunnel under the galleries.
Technicolor Dreams Egg has arrived.
Yysare comes out from a half-obscured tunnel under the galleries.
Serriena walks out behind Sirrala grinning somewhat because of A'poc. She stops and bows to both Isyrath and Morpheth although she still has that half smile on her face. She moves over to the semi-circle of candidates forming around the egg standing near Katheia, Senaya and Rilitsa.
Asmidiske catches sight of Magmus, and though he has no pact with the other man, was just beginning to drift a little closer to a friendly face, when the blue sweeps by and makes impression. The young man swallows. Hard. Then he smiles, a quiet, smile that brings him -- he hopes -- to nobody's particular notice. Having taken a step from his place, he simply moves back into a cluster of his fellow candidates and blends.
Zaedrial walks out onto the sands, the nervousness that the candidate is feeling obvious by the expression on his face. He steps further onto the sands, bending at the waist to bow at Isyrath and Morpheth before hurrying to his spot in the semi-circle of candidates.
Valdair moves out onto the sands, quiet, and for all appearances, calm. Hardly. A few more steps and he pauses, managing a bow to both the Isyrath and Morpheth before he continues his movement into the arch of candidates.
Katheia gives everything a sort of wide-eyed stare as she flashes the barest of smiles at Sirra; the poor ex-healer is definitely overwhelmed at the moment. When Serriena moves next to her, the ex-healer reaches for the other girl's hand, "Serri, I'm so nervous!"
So much for T'yari's conviction that the clutch would only hatch greens and that lone gold. After mouing a small pout -- he's lost his bet, as predicted -- the assistant weyrlingmaster begins to shuffle in the correct direction and pauses once G'nar gets there first. He was closer, anyways. So, after a lingering look to make sure all's right, he peers back towards the semi-organized chaos of sand, eggs, and candidates.
Long distance to (J'nah, Cymber, Guest2): Serriena whees! my egg has a baby dragon in it!(Technicolor Dreams Egg)
Technicolor Dreams Egg trembles... er, wait, does it? SOMETHING certainly seems to be happening over there, but then things seem to be happening all over the place right now. Anyway and either way, the egg stills a few moments after that initial burst of almost overlooked energy - just a little sigh of activity now whispered into nothingness.
In total and utter awe at the quickness that the hatchlings begin to emerge from their hardened shells, Felisha takes a small step backward, hardly noticable anyway, as most are probably paying attention to the new dragonets. Eyes find a way to settle on a green here, but quickly move to another blue there. The 'candidate-shuffle' becomes more evident now as her steps appear longer and more painful by the appearance of her face expressions. Jaw clenched tightly, she never drops her eyes, the wonderous sight of her first hatching overwhelming her senses.
Mechelle's eyes widen as she realizes that the eggs are already hatching. There have been several Impressions already! She stands still, afraid to move, but the sands are hot, so she shuffles a bit, already aware that those thick-soled sandals aren't going to last forever out here. She takes a quick glance behind her, making sure that nobody has slipped in behind her. /Nobody/ will stand behind her! No way! That's how you get mauled!
Yysare hurries out over the sands, almost running right up to Riddyn. She remembers, last-minute, to stop and stoop, bowing deeply to dragons and riders, before going over to grab for his hand. "I'm here. hey finally let me out. Oh, look at all the eggs! I'll bet there's so many of them that everyone's going to get one! Then we'll both be fine. And they're all moving, too." Even on the sands, she never shuts up.
Magmus smiles cheerfully to Asmidisike, moving over abit to allow the boy room. Of course, the candidate himself is trying to keep his calm just so the people around him might as well. Eyes of honed jade flecked with burnished golden stars find their gaze wandering, until they catch sight of a trembling egg. "It's...moving." The candidate murmers, he himself shifting side to side like his gaze. Hot, dreadfully hot--and he's darn glad he took a swim earlier.
Sirrala fidgets with the hem of her robe for a moment longer, before she realizes impressions are going on around her. Even the hauty seeming candidate takes a moment to stare in awe at the various eggs rocking, cracking and hatching. Sirra even takes a step closer to her neighbors, at the sight of an ungangly hatchling.
Solonor watches quietly as the eggs begin to rock, his eyes searching for any of his friends at the same time.
Dara shuffles her feet like any other candidate about, moving.. well, closer to Serriena. Only person she knows really, since the first day at the Weyr -- before that, really. The girl is silent, oddly still.. a sort of coldness has descended about her, putting her in a little bubble away from the rest of the world. Nothing there but those eggs.. and the dragons.. and her. The reclusive little stablehand waits apprehensively, as so many eggs rock like ticking time bombs.
Zaedrial remains silent, but inches his way closer to where Valdair is standing. He tugs at the edges of his robe, his feet lifting from the sands often as he attempts to cool them. His eyes dart over the sands, the green orbs widening as he sees that some of them have already hatched.
Gretchen is still here. But barely. Jaw is still tightly clenched, no doubt preventing any speech that might have come out otherwise. Another deep breath - wouldn't do to start hyperventilating now, would it? - and she levels her gaze on each egg, one at a time. All the better for keeping track, yes?
Anson nods again to Magmus, still rather taken aback by the chaotic events going around about him. "Was that Tiomran? I can't tell..." he looks up toward the other side of the semicircle and sighs. "Shards I can't see...What's going on over there?" he asks Magmus, as if he would know. Having been looking in another direction, he does not see the other egg tremble.
Serriena laughs allowing her hand to be taken. "It's always exciting. You've got the best seat in the place." She winks to Katheia and then notices the rocking Technicolor Dreams egg. "You know with the colors the way they are on that," she comments pointing. "I wonder if when it splits, it will split in half or break all over." Hot hot hot. Yes that too, she does the candidate truffleshuffle.
Riddyn spots Yysare, and lifts a hand to wave to her. "I'm over here, little one." his deep baritone calls over to the girl, making sure she sees him and then holding his hand out to her. Ah, she did see him. He grins down at her, chuckling. "Not quite that many, lass. They always Search more Candidates then there are eggs." His eyes them move back up to keep an eye on eggs and hatchlings. "Stay sharp, and if one heads this way, be prepared to dodge, OK?"
Valdair watches, the heat beneath him hardly noticed thusfar in the excitement around him. Motion, noticed, captures his eyes, sending them towards the egg that now seems to have begun moving. Breath, slowly drawn in, is quickly released. From the corner of his eye, Zaedrial is spotted, familiarity slightly soothing..but hardly much.
Llilian can't help but grin, at the sight of the hatching, already beginning, and now, proceeding quite well, moving to settle against Isyrath's forearm, using her lifemate to support her as she steps from foot to foot, no more used to the heat than the Candidates.
G'nar returns from depositing the new pair and stands next to T'yari, that annoying grin the greenrider hates so much still on his face...though he makes no more comments - he's too busy making sure all the newly impressed get taken care of.
T'rrent's tired of the heat. Grumgling softly about the interference with an otherwise wonderful occasion, T'rrent takes the intelligent approach, and wanders over toward his lifemate again. Once there, he takes a seat on Morpheth's hind leg. There. No more hot feet.
Technicolor Dreams Egg DEFINITELY did something that time! A frenetic display of energy upsets the egg, sending it rocking back and forth in a haphazard series of movements, tapping against a neighboring shell or wobbling into the line of fire of a newly Hatched sibling. Soon doesn't seem quite soon enough for this particular egg, which is all a matter of bubbling motion.
Magmus nudges Anson, his eyes lit-up in totaly awe. Forcing the words out, as if surprised he can, "It...that..one moved. Look." Magmus manages to get out, a slim tanned finger being extended to the Technicolor Dreams egg thoughtfully. Toes wiggle, trying to free abit of ebony granules that got pinned beneath his sandal and his foot as he bowed, the sweat pouring down from his fore-head like a river and twisting tributaries. But then again, he was like this almost as soon as he heard the thrumming..it's bound to get worse.
Katheia squeezes Serri's hand tightly, before the candidate turns back to the eggs at hand. Her feet move much like everyone elses as she tries to find some place comfortable to put them down, but with this heat it's impossible to do so.
Felisha continues to look about anxiously, the semi-circle of candidates just about filled in. Fingers twitching, and eyes never staying on one place for an extended period of time. Head held high through all of the pressure she fills, and shoulders pushed back to give her a steady appearance, inside she's melting away with heat. Ugh, if there were only some water. In an attempt to make distractions disappear, candidate gives her head a quick shake. She must be the only one with all of these quirks, head shaking, fingers twitching...
A brown and green hatch nearly simultaneously from Comic Adventures Egg and Softness Of The Sisters Egg. Each stumbles from the wreckage of their respective eggs to collide with one another in a tangle of flailing limbs and hisses. The green manages to right herself before her brown brother and stalks off angrily, her quest for a lifemate rudely interrupted but not for long.
Yysare ooOOohs at the mvoement of the eggs. "Huh? Move? Why?" she asks the larger man, looking upward at him before hip-hopping from one foot to the other. Hot hot HOT! "Ouch, my feet! These sands are hot! They need to cool them down or something, or give us better shoes, I think. My feet aer going to be burned."
Swaths of gray, shade the top half of the egg, where it is nestled in the mound of ebony sand. Slate coloring etches tiny granules of fuzziness onto the black and white mirage of its surface. There is a negligent lack of color upon the crest of the egg, almost tempering downward to engulf the whole thing. Then almost as if crossing through a doorway into another world, bursts of color suddenly light up the circular surface. Multi-hues blend vividly, almost crystallizing together upon the soft surface of the very special contrasting egg. Seeming to study the other eggs and taking its hints of colors from them, it takes on its own depth of light on the bottom oval surface, shining with shimmers of blue, crimson, pale yellow, orange, lavender, nearly every shade of the rainbow as if capturing them to map them on a screen of color.
Solonor looks at Technicolor Dreams Egg as it rocks violently. "I think that ones going to hatch very soon....." He says idlely.
T'yari is jealous of those who don't have to stand. "I don't learn," he complains in a muted tone to G'nar, ignoring certain annoying expressions as he shifts from one foot to the other. "I should've by now -- stupid, stupid heat."
The presence of tons and tons of people makes the greenrider more antsy than normal, but he's distracted as the next few eggs hatch. "Watch 'em -- I'll get one and you can get the other?"
Rhayna watches the eggs with an innate intrest, brows creased as she tries to pay attention to every single one.
Mechelle wipes sweaty palms on the side of her robe, slowly scooting until she's standing near Kath...maybe a few inches behind her. She smiles shakily, and then turns her attention to the eggs, the dragonets, the sands...Her eyes focus on another egg, smiling slightly as it rocks. What stories she'll have to tell the children in the nursery...Then turns to look at the newest dragonets stumbling around.
Anson looks at Magmus at his statement, looking toward the Technicolor Dreams egg as if in disbelief, "Are you sure it--" His comment is interrupted by the frenetic energy displayed by the aforementioned egg. "You're right! I saw it that time!" he shakes his head in wonderment. "I didn't think it went this fast..." he says, nervous as ever.
Asmidiske isn't saying anything. He's watching the eggs that rock and sway with widened eyes that reveal the awe and excitement which wary caution momentarily steals from his face. He angles a comforting look to a nervous girl beside him, then straightens up and takes to finally noticing the impervious heat that has swelled up to encompass the lot of the white-garbed candidates. He lifts a hand to wipe at his brow, and.. look at that, pushing away damp hair gives him a very clear view of the Technicolar Dreams Egg, and he pales for minute, but keeps on staring, fascinated from his place amidst a tight cluster of anxious figures.
Valdair allows his vision to dart between those of the newly hatched, and the egg of the Technicolored Dreams, which indeed is rocking, as he first thought. Remember to breath. It's important. Hands find the nearest thing..his robe, and gently wipes his palms against it, sweating.
Zaedrial's mouth turns into a nearly perfect 'o' as he watches the eggs crack and the dragonets from within revealed. His hands continue to tug and pull at his robe, trying to make it fit better than it does.
She's sweating like the rest, shuffling her feet like the rest. But the sweat trickles down coldly over her brow, and her shoulders. Patient Dara, calm Dara.. Dara doesn't move as much as the others, doesn't talk as much as the others. She just waits, a dim glimmer of some new feeling called hope strikes a light in her mind. Time's.. slowed, for her. It's odd, really.
Sirrala is quietly lifting her feet to try and ease the ache caused by the hot sands, but when she sees the two dragons fall and tumble together she can't help but wince.
G'nar nods to T'yari "I think Belena planned on this" He notes, amused "Be proddy, don't have to stand here and swelter." He notes, "We'll take it in turns, it'll be less work that way." he agrees.
Serriena uses her one hand not taken by Katheia to fan her face. Sweat, already she's sweating. Rumor has it that's what attracts dragonets to you. Well they found a good way to make you sweat in this heat. She fans her face and looks over Katheia towards the audience waving as she spots her friends Cymber and Riana there.
Lost in Flames Grey Egg hops. It hops again. After a moment's respite, it hopes one last time, finally gaining the momentum to leave the pile of sand built up around its base. Success! It tumbles about for a moment or two, veering left and right completely out of control, before finally coming to a halt several meters from its original position.
Solonor's sight is then caught by the Lost in Flames Egg. He shuffles his feet, waiting for the egg to hatch as it starts rocking.
Riddyn chuckles, his own feet beginning to move in the Classic Candidate Shuffle. "Because, Yysare, there's always the possibility that a Hatchling coming our way isn't focused on one of us, but someone else." he responds. Then gives her hand a reasurring squeeze, "No, they won't. It just feels that way. And the Sands have to be this hot, otherwise the eggs'd never get hard enough to hatch." Heat? What heat? This is the man who used to work over a smoking forge before he came here. Heat he can handle.. so long as it isn't seeping up through his shoes, that is. His free hand lifts, pointing out Hatchlings and wobbling eggs. "Look there."
Mechelle hears what Serriena says about sweat and dragons, and her face pales...Well, if that's what draws them, then she'll be trampled! Of course, it's the /heat/ that's making her sweat, not her nervousness.../WHat/ nervousness? She's not nervous! Why should she be? She continues to watch as the eggs rock and crack. Her eyes seem to be everywhere at once, as she tries to keep up with which egg is doing what.
"I bet she did." T'yari toys with the idea of suddenly claiming that his own green has taken to glowing, but decides against it in the end -- proddiness brings bad repercussions. "That'd be completely like her to do that, you know." He continues to track the progress of the newly hatched dragons, worrying his lower lip unconsciously.
Felisha narrows her eyes, eyebrows furrowed in utter concentration. Trying to pay attention to every egg that bursts with life, and the pain coming from the sands to her feet just isn't working. She'd soon enough run off the sands, but she'd then most likely get squished by a hatchling, and in that case, she'll stay where she is, nice and content. A shaking hand is brought to her face where she pushes a golden curl away from her cheek, allowing nervous redness to be revealed. As her friends also move in their shuffle, she can't help but smile. She isn't alone, here. But contrary to everyone else, she doesn't speak, she stays silent. Admiring.
Everyone's eyes seem to be turning to the amazing jumping Lost in Flames Egg. Frankly, the color hurts Dara's eyes a bit.. just a bit. The girl lets a candidate or two shuffle past her -- she turns her eyes to a softer-hued ovoid.. there's so many, after all. Just for a while, though.
Valdair begins to rock as the eggs. Well, not exactly like the eggs. He has feet, after all. But the heat beneath him is getting to poor feet, and one foot is periodically raised and then the other. Eyes, drawn away from the frenzy of the hatching, momentarily move down the line of candidates. After a moment's faint smile, attention is drawn back once more to the matter at hand.
Spirals of gray shift and mute, spinning with each minute shimmer of movement from the Technicolor Dreams Egg. A strange pattern of cracks meander a well-laid path down the center of the egg, stirring it slightly until, just when it seems the fissures will over come the egg entirely, it splits evenly down the center. There, among the shards, is the Hatching-damp glimmer of an emerald green hide.
Zaedrial continues to shift from foot to foot, his eyes darting over the sands not really being able to keep them in one spot. He does shift his eyes to where his favorite egg had sat, but cannot make out whether or not the egg is still there.
Yysare ooOOohs again as the eggs move and the hatchlings creep around. "I like that one, and that one, and that one, and..." She doesn't really seem to have a favorite, apparently. "Green and blue... they're all so pretty." she informs the large man. Hiphop. Hophip. "The eggs aer hatching now, though. Can't they make the sands cooler for when we're out here? Can't we get something better for our feet? They're HOT."
Magmus suddenly cranes his head to the other side, staring thoughtfully at the Lost in Flames Grey Egg. "Ohh..another one Anson, look." The hunter-candidate murmers, nearly hopping up and down to keep the skin from peeling off his feet. Sandals that are less then adequate are worn, which make for hot tootsies! Nervously, his bottom lip is bitten and held firm by his top teeth as he sees the Technicolor Dreams Egg hatch a green. With a muffled 'ooohh', the hunter-candidate's attention is drawn to the dragonet.
Serriena continues to fan herself. "Oh look it's hatched!" She was right. It did split down the center. She points it out to Katheia. Just beyond the egg she can see something else though. Serriena's eyes look to J'nah and instead of frowning, she smiles at him. Of course everything else is too busy and her eyes drop down to the emerald sundream hatchling.
Anson gapes at the sight of the Lost in Flames egg as it hops "Look! Magmus...Look at that one!" he exclaims to his friend excitedly. "It actually hopped...I wouldn't be surprised if it hatched before that other one.." he says to Magmus, pointing out the Technicolor Dreams egg as well. He blinks.
"Oh....my..." he says quietly.."What a beauty..." he whispers, "What a beauty indeed...That's an amazing color for a green, don't you think Magmus?" he asks his friend, still startled by the green's presence. "Amazing..."
Rhayna's brows raise as the newest dragonet to walk the sands erupts from her egg. "What colour...?" is asked quietly, her brows furrowing a bit.
Solonor slowely makes his way closer to the Lost in Flaming Skies Grey Egg. Once he deems himself close enough, he stands patiently, waiting for the egg to hatch.
G'nar laughs again at T'yari's petulance "Indeed...most likely to see if we are worthy of being her assistants" he notes, "Ah, look, 'Yari...another green just for you." He notes, pointing to the newly hatched dragonet "And a real beauty, too...let's hope Davoth doesn't see her for a while." He'll never hear the end of it.
Gretchen *heard* something, at least. Eyes narrow as she squints over towards that Technicolor Dreams Egg. Interesting. Or something. A startled jerk of her entire body sends her a step back, but she manages to remain on both feet. One lifts, then the other in that never-ending shuffle. "A green," is muttered softly, eyebrows furrowing. "Pretty, too." Indeed.
Asmidiske is feeling the heat, just like everyone else. But he tries to keep his shifting innocuous. Can't draw any attention. Lifting one foot slightly, he brings respite, only to exhange it with the other in a rhythmic tramping that stills quite abruptly as the egg that he's been watching gives birth to the breathtaking beauty of that emerald. Green. His lips mouth the word before he glances around to see if anyone notices. Then back to the hatchling his eyes turn.
Katheia hears a few other candidates ooh'ing and aw'ing over the latest hatchling and when Serri points it out, Kathe quickly looks over it, "Oh she's beautiful!" She leans over to give Sirra's arm a tug and points at the hatchling as well, in case her friend missed it.
Emerald And Diamonds Egg crumbles into dust to reveal a brown, still damp from egg fluid. Slowly, he unwinds himself from the huddle he had been forced into by an unyielding shell and opens his wings to let the heat of the Sands dry them. Cautiously, he moves forward into the crowds, wings still wide to give him much needed balance as he wobbles down the artificial lanes which appear before him. Impression is made a few moments later to a rather portly young Baker.
Valdair feels, more than hears, the involuntary, quiet noise made as the green hatches. The orbs of his eyes stare at the beauty of green hide, lips being tugged up in a faint smile. "Lovely.."
Mechelle's eyes are drawn to a beautiful green dragonet, a soft "Ahhh.." issues from her mouth as she gazes at the small hatchling. She smiles slightly and watches where it wanders, wondering who will be her new lifemate.
T'rrent sits back and relaxes, hands clasped behind his head, leaning against Morpheth's great bronze leg. He yanks his feet up real quick to avoid being smashed by a careening egg, but other than that he's doing just peachy.
Lost in Flames Grey Egg just sits there for a moment or two, as if contemplating what actions to take. At length, it apparently decides on rolling around recklessly again, because that is exactly what it's doing. Rolling around in wide, random arcs, it only stops when confronted by an immovable obstacle - its Sire. Oops.
Zaedrial ohs softly, nudging Valdair lightly in the ribs, "Look at that lovely little lady." He says, turning his head as he sees the egg he had dubbed as his favorite hatch and the little brown finding his lifemate. No time to be sad about that, his eyes continue to look over the hatching eggs.
Sirrala looks at the hatchling as well, especially when Kathe tugs on her arm, "I see it, Katheia." Says the girl as she automatically fixes her robe, wouldn't want it to hang unevenly or anything.
Magmus nods slowly in regards to his friends words, caught up in the moment that is known as hatching. "Yes, she is quite the stunning green. Simply magnificent." Still in a shock, Magmus continues his 'shuffling', every so often bumping into Anson accidently. Of course, he'd never do it on purpose, and probally--he doesn't even know he's doing it.
Rhayna hears everyone's speaking and smiles a bit. "Green.." she says quietly, watching the youngest one.
Solonor has to jump over Lost in Flaming Skies Egg as seconds before it careens into Morpheth's leg. "Rowdy little one in there....."
"Oh." That's the first word she's
Riddyn bites his lower lip to keep a foolish grin off his face. OK.. being 'experienced' at this, he'll just play coach. "Can't break tradition, little one." he comments to the girl at his side. "Though, if you happen to go through this again, I'd advise re-enforcing the soles of your sandals. That'll keep the heat out a bit longer." Then he's pointing again, towards the Emerald hatchling. "Take a look at her. Just like one of my carvings come to life, eh?"
Emerald Sundream Green Hatchling tips a wing, snaking around her glistening damp neck to peer at the thing with a rather entranced expression for several seconds, eyes whirling chaos. Transfixed for several long moments, she only breaks the stare when something darts past. She stumbles to her feet then, awkward but determined, and charges toward the thing - which just happens to be another egg. Fortunately for both this little green and the egg in question, she's distracted on the way by more movement, white movement! Bounding raucously, she cuts off in an all new direction!
"Good." T'yari is appeased, somewhat, at the appearance of another green. "She's nice-looking," he approves. Other comments are put on hold as the rider scrambles off to escort the brown and now ex-Baker off the sands, assuring along the way, "Yes, yes, he's lovely. We'll get you food if you'll just follow me..."
Gossamer Spinnersweb Egg has arrived.
Valdair blinks, jarred out of his watching of the eggs by Zaedrial's elbow. "...What?" He looks, and smiles faintly before nodding. "Yes.." Oh yeah, he's really listening.
Mechelle actually giggles as she watches the small green hatchling. "She's as silly as some of the four-Turn olds in the nursery..." she whispers to Katheia. "Just look at her!"
Felisha takes in a deep breath as Technicolor Dreams Egg cracks slowly to reveal the beautiful green, and as the other eggs around her continue to shatter and reveal their contents of multi-shaded blues and browns and the other greens. Lip again getting stuck between the candidate's teeth, she shifts unpleasantly, yet happily. Eyes glance toward Llilian and her lifemate, and T'rrent and Morpheth. She could crumble. Heat, nervousness, pressure, awe...
Katheia giggles as she catches Mechelle's words, and the candidate leans toward her ex-nanny friend, "Aye, but wouldn't you be if you were just shelled?" She reaches over to give Mechelle's arm a squeeze too, if the other girl allows it, "I'm so nervous!" Of course Kathe has repeated that same statement to most of the candidates around her.
Gretchen manages a small-ish sort of smirk at that green's antics, one eyebrow stretching towards her hairline in a slow sort of way. "Kidlet," is whispered, amusement in her expression. But, can't let that continue much longer. She straightens up, and directs her attention to the other moving egg. "This is going a lot slower then I imagined it would."
Gossamer Spinnersweb Egg bursts into motion in the blink of an eye, and one harsh rock to the side sends this gloomy, silver-streaked egg into a sidelong roll, down from the cozy mound of granules it was once nestled within. Coming to a slow stop, the egg trembles slightly, and then, motions fade, leaving the orb upon it side, or what would appear to be the side. Biding its time, perhaps, before another erruption...
Fluid movement sends the Lost in Flames Egg rolling upon its side--brilliant hues cascading in righteous wisdom against the dark sands. Red and orange shine brilliant, breaking into a sea of flames, and burnt out edges, leaving in their wake the shards of brilliance to surround palest hatchling. Tottering, the egg collapses entirely, giving a full view of the blue hatchling within.
Asmidiske isn't trying to attract any attention. In fact, he holds his breath for a few minutes in his renewed efforts to become a faceless white figure against the backdrop of tawny sand. It's not that he's not interested in the hatchlings that are erupting into life, for excitement and hope flare in his eyes. He's just.. shy. That's it. He can't help it, however, as he leans forward an inch to get a better look at what is happening. Forgetting in the process that he's moved, only to be startled by the movement of the Spinnersweb and Flames shells.
Yysare bounces around, clutching Riddyn's hand as tightly as possible as she stares, open-mouthed, at the little green - bouncing around, too. Oh /my/. "Look at her! Oh, she's so beautiful...she's a /dragon/, too, I can't believe it...and so /little/, yet so /big/...oh, Riddyn, have you ever made a gem /dragon/? That is my goal, in the area of gems. A green. A beautiful, bouncy, purty green. Oh, /look!/ I can't believe it! It's so...they can /hurt/ you, you know, and...I'm scared. Don't let go!" Then she glances next to her to check for Gretchen. "Oh, but I could stand here for/ever/...well, maybe not, it's so hot, but really..."
Solonor remembers he's supposed to be i a semi-circle with the others, and gets back in place, looking as innocent as he possably could. He keeps an eye on the Lost in Flamming Skies egg though, like he's been doing since he was Searched. When the egg shatters to reveal a blue hatchling, he gasps in awe at the little guy's beauty.
Rhayna creases her brows even more to try and make out this next hatchling. But, to her unfortune, to no avail.
Magmus is in a whirl-wind, neck throwing his gaze into various directions. So many eggs are moving, so much of the ebony sand shifting, and so many candidates commenting! Magmus is simply overwhelemed, although he does manage to point a slim finger foward, an elbow finding Anson's side. "Blue." The candidate simply says, trying harder to control his breathing than acually talk. And shuffle, of course. It's awfully hot to forget to shuffle.
Mechelle may be an ex-nanny, but you'd think she was a child by the look on her face, as if she's lost in the most wonderful dream-world. She looks first one way, then the other, "I guess I would, Kath..." she whispers from her position a few inches behind Kath, actually. Her eyes turn as a beautiful blue emerges, then back to the green, not sure which to keep her wide eyes focused on.
Anson shakes his head. "This is happening too fast!" the stablehand-candidate exclaims, still amazed at the presence of the emerald green. "And stop stepping on me, Mag!" He nearly doesn't see the cinereous blue hatching's entrance to the world. "Shards! Magmus!" he nods to the ex-hunter again quickly.
Slow and steady wins the race. Yes, that's the case for Riotous Reunion Egg, errant wobbles and uncertain shivers slowly fracturing hard shell, delicate spinnerswebs of tension and release that finally break to reveal a deeply hued blue dragonet. Oh he takes his time in searching as well, he does. From candidate to candidate to candidate, as if nothing in the world exists but his need. And after a long an arduous journey, a breathless exclamation and tears of joy mark his impression to a slip of a girl from Fort.
Zaedrial's eyes go wide again as he sees the little blue crack from his shell, "Look." He all he says to Valdair as he looks around to see the other eggs and hatchlings on the sands. Shifting his weight from foot to foot, he is prepared to dart out of the way if need be.
Valdair finds his lips tugged up in a smile, eyes following the little green as she runs to and fro. Indeed, like a child...which of course, she is. She just hatched after all. The newly hatched blue is noticed as well, gaze leaving the hide of emerald to focus in on azure. Quickly? Definately.
Rhayna looks over towards Magmus and smiles a bit. Then her eyes turn back towards the hatchling in question. "Blue." She grins a little bit. "Pretty pattern."
Long distance to Asmidiske: Serriena awws..did you see that? a girl from fort impressed a blue :)
Gretchen slowly turns her head to look over at Yysare, and blinks. That smirk returns, and she looks about to reply when that blue hatches. Another jerk of her body, and she takes another deep breath. "Blue." Is she keeping track well enough? Let's hope so. Yysare is considered, and one hand slowly stretches towards the other Candidate. "Wanna hold my hand?" she asks, in a teasing way.
G'nar shifts his feet again, then is off to help the new blue and the girl he's just impressed, smiling down at the tears on her face as he waits for her to recover enough to follow him, which she eventually does.
Emerald Sundream Green Hatchling blinks. Even that is a charming movement, sedate yet energetic as her pretty little wedge tilts to one side. She stares up at something - something white, for the most part, something fascinating. And then she lets out a curious little croon, nudging one of them out of her way to get at one that better suits her, best suits her. Contentment transfixes her facets, melting into truest blue.
Serriena watches the hatchlings as brown, green and blue find lifemates on the sands. She grins and shifts from side to side. "Isn't that blue cute?" she whispers to Katheia... Yes... she'll finally admit to a little bit of a blue /fetish/. She's got enough of them waiting for her at home.
Emerald Sundream Green Hatchling pauses before Sirrala, looking up with whirling eyes.
Gossamer Spinnersweb Egg has remained in peace for long enough, it would seem... As sudden as before, the side-stranded egg erupts into a wild flurry of motion, rocking wildly to and fro, silver strands glinting wildly this way and that, as the darkened orb thrashes... With a bit of assistance from a heap of piled sands, the egg rocks up onto the correct end, and continues to tilt from side to side, before, not pausing, energy flowing forth, the creature within battling for freedom.
Rhayna watches as the green picks Sirrala and smiles. "Congrats!" is called towards the greenling.
"It's.. too many. Far, far too many." And there are ambitious Candidate pushing their way to the front of the lines, stepping of feet and crunchings of toes, mutterings of gossipy girls who seem to cluster in a huddle around that lovely, lovely green.. but they're all lovely, they are. And.. oh. It's got someone.. Dara smiles a tad, not quite rueful. Lucky Sirrala, then.
Riddyn lets the grin plaster his face this time, as he looks down at Yysare, then back quickly to the sands and such. Not minding the grip she has upon his hand in the least. "Yes, I have carved a dragon before. Several, in fact. And greens too. Ask Belena to show her the carving I did of her green one day." Then he's pointing out the blue to her, and a few others.
Mechelle spares a glance up towards the galleries, and then back down, just in time to see Sirrala Impress the green dragonet. "Careful!" she calls, "Don't get anything on your robe while you feed her!" she chuckles, the dragonet inspected closely before she allows her eyes to return to the rest of the eggs and dragonets.
Sirrala was busily straightening her robe once more, when she looks up into the eyes of green, she frowns in confused for a moment, before saying quietly, "Cymlith, me? Surely you must be mistaken? Oh, you are not. That is fair enough,"
As eggs continue to roll, shake, jet, the nanny-candidate Felisha takes in a deep breath, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. The nervousness fading just a bit, but obviously still evident as she shifts more quickly now, the waves of heat coming from the sands really getting to her. Trying to find things to take her mind off of it, opposite hand comes up to brush yet another golden curl away from her face. Tying her hair back would've done her good as it currently sticks unpleasantly to her face. Orbs move to Mechelle and then Katheia. Suddenly, she looks towards one of the candidates from her chore group, Sirrala. She smiles, "Congratulations." Is whispered.
Yysare instantly lets out a loud, dreamy sigh, staring at Sirrala with a look of awe - and, more oddly, a moment of silence - as she watches the Impression. Oh my. Oh my. "/Look/, Gretchen! She *Impressed!* I've never /seen/ an Impression before, it was so /beautiful/, and, oh dear, I think I'm going to go /crazy/ it's just so /hot/ and so /loud/ and so /wonderful/ - oh, you have! Oh look! A /blue/! I hadn't noticed, I was so...but.../look/! I can't believe it. Gretchen? Yes! I need a hand. /Please/?" The hand is snatched at.
T'rrent lets out a cheer as Sirrala Impresses the green, chuckling with utter mirth at the proceedings. "Go, Sirra!" he calls out, slapping his hands on his knees, and shooting a grin up to Morpheth. "Yes, I know she's small," he says. "They're always small."
Zaedrial looks over, watching as the little green goes up to Sirrala, waiting to see if the Impression has been made before he calls out his congratulations. His attention does not stay long on the newly Impressed pair as they dart back to the unhatched eggs and yet un-Impressed dragonets.
Free! Free at last! The tiny blue hatchling wastes no time at all in starting the arduous journey ahead of him. Ok, so it's not that bad, but he's small... He takes a few bumbling steps foreward, getting the hang of this whole walking thing, and actually manages not to trip over the bits of shell that litter his immediate area.
Valdair shifts his line of sight, back to the green, only to find that she has Impressed. A smile, quickly breaking across his face, watching the moment with something akin to awe in his expression. However, it's not long before he gets pulled back into the chaos around him.
Anson gasps. "Sirrala!!" he shouts, laughing. "Congratulations, Sirra!" The young man seems rather happy at the emerald's choice. "How wonderful for her, eh Mag?" he asks the ex-hunter, he grins, glancing to Mag again as the name is called. "Cymlith...Is it just me or does that sound too much like Cymber?" he asks as he shifts his weight on his other foot.
"Her name is Walieth!" comes the joyful cry of a young Healer candidate, who falls to her knees beside the still bristling green to soothe her. The Healer doesn't even notice as the guilty brown, along with two blues Impress not half a dragonlength away.
Asmidiske is just fascinated by the subtle variations of hue that speckle and stipple that new-hatched blue. He swallows hard and misses half of whatever else happens as he hovers between following the cerulean fellow's presence and keeping himself balanced enough to retain the anonymity that he's so carefully nurtured. His smile comes, self-effacing and still friendly, offered up with soft congratulations to Sirrala, words she's probably not going to hear, since he can barely hear them himself. He says them anyway.
"That one's yours!" T'yari calls upon reentry to the sands, peering towards the blue and his new-found lifemate before directing his attention elsewhere. The greenrider hops from foot to foot, anxious, before spying the latest Impression: Sirrala and Cymlith. Yari approaches the two, offering a pleasant smile. "Hi. Do you two want to follow me? Cymlith, was it?" The greenrider pauses, then adds, "Just follow me."
Magmus follows the green dragonet's path to Sirrala, a small smile crossing his face. "Ahh...Sirrala, impressed. Look Anson." And indeed, the hunter-candidate has stopped stepping on his friend, although he still sways from side to side like a tree in the wind. "And, lookee 'dere at that blue, he looks to be on the move." A quick nod is given to Anson in regards to the 'cymber' comment, his own eyes still probing the sands thoughtfully.
Katheia's eyes widen as Sirra impresses, "Sirra! Congradulations!" Stepping a little away from her friend and her new lifemate, Katheia turns and smiles at Mechelle, before offering her friend her other free hand.
Cymlith gives a decidedly UN-delicate snort up at Sirrala at the word 'mistaken', tossing her little head a little. She nudges the girl imperiously, then pauses to whuffle at her robe as if only just now realizing the stuff existed. She sniffs - even gives a slight nibble before she spits it out and manages to look wholly disgusted. That is NOT what she wants to eat.
G'nar is off to help the blue, then the brown and another green....his feet won't have the time to burn anymore, except perhaps for the fast pace as the hatchlings impress one after the other.
Gretchen's smile widens slightly as her hand is...capsized? and just rolls her eyes. "Not so much talking. More watching. You've just become my second look-out. We dodge together. Be proud." Riiiight. Gaze snaps to the green Impression. "Excellent."
T'yari heads over to the small niche.
Sirrala heads over to the small niche.
Slowly, as violent rocking continues, long cracks become prevalent upon the ebony surface of Gossamer Spinnersweb Egg, streaking across the darkness, penetrating through the silvered, starlit tendrils that have woven their way across this ovoid, a sharp contrast to the elegance those faults portrayed. For a few moments, it remains thus, jagged paths drawn in places they never before had lain... And then, molten pieces of shell seem to dribble away, bit by bit, falling to the sands in gleaming fragments. Left standing amongst the ruins of the egg is a dragonet, hide cast in shadowy brown.
Solonor smiles as he sees the little blue hatchling nearly topple over. "How
cute." Yes, Sol has a soft side.
Mechelle's attention turns to the small blue that continues to search for his lifemate. Who will this one choose? Who will be next to find their lifemate? She sighs slightly, thinking of complaining about her feet, but then, everybody looks as if theirs are just as hot. She begins raising them, one then the other...
Banded Azure And Alabaster Egg has arrived.
Serriena ohs. "Sirrala congratulations!" She calls knowing she probably can't hear but saying it anyways. She watches the path of the little blue and blinks when a brown emerges. "They've got some good colors here."
Cymlith heads over to the small niche.
T'yari comes over from the small area reserved for weyrlings.
Felisha isn't sure of what to pay more attention to - The eggs or the hatchings or her friends. The eggs, so silent and still, giving a sudden jolt here and then, but nothing to move them from their warm bed of sand. The hatchlings, the ones that wander around aimlessly with rumbling stomaches, begging to be fed, and to find a lifemate to help them through life. Her friends, they've been supportive, and they're just as nervous and anxious as she. There isn't one to choose, so she moves from each one quickly to another. Eyes stop on a more recent hatchling, however, Darkly Illuminated Brown Hatchling. She smiles happily.
Zaedrial's jaw now visably drops as he looks at the brown who just fought free of its shell, "Oh, lovely." He says, watching him for a brief moment before continuing his watch on the eggs.
Erinaceous Cinereous Blue Hatchling peers about for a moment or two, then bingo! He's found his target. Wings dangling along as he takes off running as best he can, the small blue barells toward the semicircle of Candidates, and toward one in particular...
Erinaceous Cinereous Blue Hatchling pauses before Asmidiske, looking up with whirling eyes.
Valdair watches the hatching of another egg, this time contents revealing a brown within. Eyes, veiled slightly by raven locks are captured in the dark colors of the hide, staring in wonderment. "Beautiful....."
Too many.. too, too many.. Dara is lost in a sea of.. well, people, and dragons, and joyful cries of a dragon's name. Somewhere in the middle of it, she's there, still feeling oddly disconnected. The girl watches one impress, and another. Her turn will come, yes, that spark of hope in the darkness says. Of course.. won't one want you? Dara bites her lip again and turns to watch.. another one. Doesn't really matter.
Riddyn looks over after shouts of someone Impressing and congradulations are called, and he adds own rumbled congrats to the bunch of noise swirling about. And back to Yysare, "It is quite a sight, isn't it, little one? There'll be many more, and some of them our friends." Gretchen gets a nod and a smile from the large man, welcoming her to the bracket surrounding Her Bounciness. Then he's pointing again, "Look at that one! Fine little fellow, if I do say so myself." That one being the newly arrived brown. Observant, is Riddyn. How does he keep track of them?
Banded Azure And Alabaster Egg shivers, yes indeed, just a little bit of movement to get it away from the mound that held it in slavery for so long. That will just never do. Freedom is what it requires. Shake, shake, shake, just a bit more tension on already brittle shell.
Magmus beams hapilly in the general direction of Asmidiske, grinning, "Congrats! Look Anson, 'miske impressed." The brown catches the corner of the candidates eye, as he awaits to hear the name of the fellows lifemate. "Look Anson...a brown. Over there." Like a canine pointing out prey, Magmus is to pointing out movement.
Mechelle just can't keep her eyes on one dragonet, or one egg, or one /anything/...Too many things going on to focus very much. Every once in a while, she glances back behind her, just to make sure a younger candidate hasn't decided to try to hide behind her. She notes Asmidiske's impression and smiles, but once again, her eyes turn, following yet another dragonet...Ah, a lovely brown!
Solonor looks around to see what is going on, waiting patiently at one end of the semi-circle. Banded Azure and Alabaster Egg then catches Sol's attention as it rocks back and forth.
Katheia is feeling much like Dara, a little lost as everything seems to be happening so quickly. With another fish-eyed goggle stare at everything, Kathe remembers she's holding Serri's hand and squeezes it.
Anson blinks rapidly, trying to breath as regular as he can. "Look...Brown...Beautiful." Are his stacatto remarks made to the ex-hunter, looking at the beautiful darkly illuminated brown hatchling. He blinks again, "Look...Mag! Asmidiske!!" he shouts, grinning wildly, "Congratulations!" he shouts at the young man.
Zaedrial calls out a congratulations towards Asmidiske, a smile on his face as he looks at the newly Impressed pair. But, once again his eyes drift back to dart between the eggs and the hatchlings.
Gretchen will never get used to this. Nope. The next hatchling - the brown - is certainly noticed. Because again, Gretchen jumps. "I *really* wish they wouldn't *do* that," she mutters, lips pressing into a thin line. Wouldn't do to smile. She's attempting irritation, here. Her free hand's fingers fiddle with the side of her robe, in an absent sort of way. Beats caring too much. The blue's Impression gets a blink, and then she nods once. Approval. Gretchen-approval. Is good. Riddyn, once her eyes sweep that-a-way, gets another one of those smirks. "Heya." That's enough, though. For now.
Yysare is Her Bounciness, indeed, and by the sparkly glow she's emitting, is durn proud of it. "Hush? How could I /hush/ when there are all of these words to be said about all of these beautiful hatchlings breaking from all of those beautiful shells and Impressing all of those beautiful peopel...friends? You really /think/ so? Imagine...oh, I don't know what I'll /do/ if you both Impress and I'm left here all alone, I should go mad...dear! A brown! Why, Riddyn, you're right. And...another Impression! And another! Oh, my, this is going much too quickly. /Look/! That boy Impressed a blue!"
Serriena holds onto Katheia's hand and squeezes back. Her eyes trail to see the blue pick Asmidiske. "Asmidiske! Congratulations!" She beams for him. "Oh I wonder who that brown will pick!" She dances from foot to foot in her excitement that mounts. Yes she's five turns old again now watching the impressions.
Llilian seems to have realized that T'rrent has the right of it, offering bright smiles and words of congratulations to any she might see Impress, which isn't many let me tell you, before clambering up to rest on an offered forearm.
A bronze strides forward from the scattered remains of Exuberant Starlet Egg, briefly lifting his head in a triumphant trumpet to mark his victory over the egg which held him. He does not savor this victory long before he moves on to his next challenge, responding to instinct has he selects a strong Holder boy for Impression.
Darkly Illumined Brown Hatchling swings his gaze slowly, cautiously, about his surroundings, first, observing the mess of shards about him-- all that is left of that dreadful egg, that held him captive for far too long. The brown carefully steps forth, legs wobbling some, but holding him none the less. Slow as he may, the dragonet moves forth, not rushing, for he cares not to misplace a step, and sprawl upon the sands. No, he is too dignant for a move like that... Pausing, he tilts his head upwards, as if, realizing those in the white robes are there for the first time. It doesn't take long for him to strike off again, this time, with a purpose in mind. Finding the perfect one for himself.
Asmidiske had been trying -so- hard to remain anonymous. To keep himself tucked away in the back of a crowd of his fellows. He'd hardly moved or breathed to keep the illusion that he was just a part of the background. Who can blame him for the look of utter shock that passes over his face as that wonderful blue hatchling comes to an abrupt stop in front of him and the whole world stops. Stunned. Pale. The young man blinks. And he blinks again. And then he just reaches forward in a joyous rush to encircle his lifemate's neck. "Travanth." Tears come. Manly tears. Just a few of them. He's so moved by emotion. But look at that smile, for one so shy, right about now A'miske's all but glowing.
G'nar grins at T'yari as he comes out again "Hatching like mad, aren't they?" and impressing just as chaotically "Guess we don't have to worry about our feet burning as we stand here...but we might wear out our shoes hurrying back and forth." And speaking of which..."Whoops! There's another one." He heads out to the newly impressed, grinning down at Asmidiske "Congratulations....let's get you and this lovely little blue out of the way, shall we?"
T'rrent launches a grin over in Llilian's direction, and makes a very valiant attempt to shout over at her, but it's all for naught. Eventually, he gives up and his eyes unfocus for a moment...
Solonor's attention is suddenly caught by an emerging Bronze. "Look! Over there, a Bronze!"
Felisha smiles brightly as fellow candidates continue to disappear with their newly hatched lifemates. She murmurs a silent congratulations to each of them under her breath as shimmering orbs find their way to the still unhatched eggs.
A cold breeze coming over her body, Nanny-Gone-Candidate shivvers unpleasantly and doesn't linger on any one object, too shaky to linger on a certain object for any length of time. Her mind traveling to a different sort again, she becomes nervous again, and shifts her wight quickly from foot to foot, eyes content on a brown for a moment, then to a blue and a green, and back to the brown.
A'miske grins up at G'nar, shyness gone for this fleeting moment. "Yes, sir. Yes." And without pulling away his contact, he and Travanth follow where they are led, the alluring scent of something delicious leading the blue to tug him ahead more quickly at the end.
G'nar heads over to the small niche.
A'miske heads over to the small niche.
Magmus eyes the brown dragonet thoughtfully, before his attention is pulled away by A'miske's voice. "Travanth...ohhh, that's got a nice ring to it, eh Anson?" A slender night-hued brow is arched as he futiveally trys to smooth his robe down, and to wipe abit of sweat from his face. So hot, so very, very, hot.
"Mad," agrees a very harried T'yari as he hurries towards the bronze; there's only time for that one syllable before the rider approaches the pair, offering his congratulations before wisking them away from the Sands.
Travanth heads over to the small niche.
Valdair is lost. Lost in all the joyful and excited cries and the sea of moving colors which bursts forth from the eggs. At least he isn't drowning. That would be a bad thing. And there's no way he's going to drop to the sand either. It's way too hot there! So he remains standing, continuing to watch what he can of what goes on.
Dara, too many. A thirty-something many, being whittled away by each jubilant, wonderous melding of minds. That's all. The girl's not really thinking at all, just moving away from jabbing elbows from the nastier Candidates, and the blur of white robes, white robes, blue dragon, white robes, white robes.. how do little dragonlings and worried white-clad children become dragonriders like her brother? The girl's fingers knot around each other.
Riddyn chuckles, a gravelly sound from deep within his chest. "I surely didn't tell you to hush, Yysare. Talk all you want, -I- certainly don't mind." Of course he doesn't; her chatter is helping him bottle down his own excitement/nervousness/hope/fear and whatever other emotions start roiling around in a person's heart when they're Standing on the Sands and eggs are cracking and... oh, what a bunch of fuss and flitters.
Gretchen just sort of...watches the brownling with a coolly appraising look. "He's awfully handsome," she whispers. Anyone catch that? Feel lucky. You weren't meant to. She's trying *so* hard to stay detached. Un-involved. "He knows what he's doing, too." Another of those statements nobody was meant to hear. She's talking to herself. Her hand squeezes gently around Yysare's, and *another* breath is drawn. La-dee-dah and all that.
Anson nods again to Magmus, "It does, yeah." he smiles, wiping his own sweat from his brows as he shifts his weight yet again from left foot to right. "It looks rather...proper, doesn't it, Magmus?" he asks the ex-hunter as he whips his head around trying to catch every sight and sound he can without getting whiplash.
Mechelle looks down the line of candidates, just for a moment, noting the dreaded Madaline stuck right in front of the gold egg, of course! She continues looking down the line, smiling slightly as she catches sight of those she knows, and those that are missing, already gone with their new lifemates. She moves her eyes back to peering over Kath's shoulder, noting the brown one who seems to be searching, and the bronze who has been very decisive in his Impression.
Zaedrial reaches out, meaning to give Valdair a reassuring squeeze to the other candidate's upper arm. He continues to watch, the brown taking more and more of his attention as the brown looks for his lifemate. His other arm lifts, the back of his hand wiping the beads of sweat from his forhead.
Banded Azure And Alabaster Egg continues to move and shake. It really does need to get out of here you know. But this shell. Well, a rap here, and tap there. Something is bound to happen eventually.
G'nar comes over from the small area reserved for weyrlings.
Valdair blinks, feeling the pressure on his arm, and is able to focus in on Zaedrial for a moment. Fellow candidate is offered a grateful smile, and he pulls in a deep breath.
Yysare is going to blow it all, of course. How could she resist? "Oh, I /know/, Gretchen, he's simply /gorgeous/ - by nature, and by...indi...individuality! Look at him! Yes! How can he? He's just been born and all that, and...they know their /names/, too. It's miraculous. I adore him. You must, too. Oh, I hope you Impress. I think you'd make a /wonderful/ dragonrider. You, too, Riddyn! Oh, of course not...I...dear."
Darkly Illumined Brown Hatchling comes to pause before a cluster of candidates, wedged head tilting upwards, regarding each in turn, considering carefully... But, this one is quick to realize that not one of these will suit himself, no. Determination in his movements, which are still slightly shaky, the dragonet turns, tail dragging along the sands, and heads off, nearly stalking across the sands. Now, what is that he has sensed? Something has certainly perked this one's interest, for he's ready to barrel down nearly any who gets in his way, on this venture across the darkened sands.
Katheia reaches over to snag one of Mechelle's hands, with her free hand, "I'm so nerv..", nervous but she doesn't say it as she realizes she's said it about twenty other times before.
Solonor watches as Impressions are made and candidates and their dragonets make their way of the sands. He stops shuffling his feet for a moment, then wuickly picks one up after the other.
Abruptly, three more candidates are shoved onto the sands by a rather urgent A'poc. The boy leads, strutting as if he was only 'fashionably late', while the girl that follows is more like 'hee hee. Oops'. The tail of the little group is Abalonie, too embarrassed to even look up. She manages a quick, but respectful bow to all the eggs and non-eggs, or at least their general direction, and all but runs over to put a death grip on Riddyn's hand.
Magmus slowly nods in Anson's direction, murmering softly, "Ayep, he looks to know where he's going. Amazing, how they get their bearings so quickly." The candidate says in awe, still fussing with his robe. Maybe, just *maybe* he should have speant some time on sewing lessons so it'd fit half-way decent. Oh well, to late now. Shifting unsteadily, Magmus' chest heaves up and down as he trys to catch his breath, this being one of the very few times the ex-hunter'd be worked up into a tizzy. "Ahh, there he goes again.." The note is made of the brown, and to Anson.
Felisha looks extremely content, happy. The sea of colors, the hues of various shades has come to give her an appreciation of color. This experience wouldn't be complete without it. Needless to say, this is the most amazing even she's witnessed during the everlong expanse of her life. The white robes of friends that surround her, and the multi-colored eggs that continue to fall to pieces and reveal princes and princesses who choose their lifemates. Glittering blue orbs can't help but look on in wonder, her body language quite evident of her thoughts, head still head in it's erect position, shoulders held back, her shuffle becoming less and less evident. She must make a good impression.
Mechelle takes Kath's other hand gratefully, but that's not going to move her forwards one bit! She squeezes the hand and grins, "I am, too, Kath...." At least she hasn't fainted, though...yet..
Serriena grins at Katheia. "It's okay to be nervous," she tells the healer turned candidate. "Usually alot of people are." Serriena wouldn't admit it yet but she is definitely nervous as her body language suggests hopping from side to side on the sands. Either that or the sands need to be cooled down a little.
Within moments of each other, Lost In Flaming Skies Egg and Dalliances In Delight Egg burst to reveal nearly identical green hatchlings. Neither takes more than a few moments to shake off the remaining egg fluid before moving through the rows of Candidates to find their better halves. Impression does not take long to occur afterwards, as one selects a gangly lad and the other a pleasantly plump lass for lifemates.
Zaedrial keeps his eye close onto the brown now that he seems to be making a direct line towards someone. He prepares to dart out of the way if need be.
T'yari savors his brief respite, although it forces him to dance from foot to foot, bemoaning his poor choice of footwear. "Nediath didn't even warn me," he tells G'nar with a small frown. "Practically dragged me down here -- next time, there'd better be some warning." And then off he goes once more to collect one of the Impressed greens.
Dara isn't thinking of anything much, except for a stream of rapid and confusing questions. Why.. why does it matter what color you Impress? Why does someone make fun when a blue chooses someone, but not a bronze? Why does it matter? The dragons have their say. She doubts they care, the human-fledgeling pair. Dara shuffles some more, feeling.. faint.
Gretchen is still watching that brown one, there. It's something to keep her attention on, afterall. "Yes, yes Yysare." Absent? Sure. "You really do natter an awful lot, don't you." It's not a question. It's a statement. Who would even need to ask, anyway? "I hope he chooses soon. He's making me nervous." Quick Impressions are Good Impressions, yes.
G'nar looks surprised at the late entrances - he'll remember those three if they impress, indeed. They might be trouble during weyrlinghood. He turns back to T'yari, laughing at the man's parting words, and then takes a breather.
Silvered Sky Dreams Egg has arrived.
Valdair returns his eyes to the sands slowly, clammy palms once more rubbed against his robe. Gaze follows the brown, who seems to be in quite a hurry. Well, he would be too, after all. And his thoughts coincide with Zaedrial's. He's not about to get caught in the path of a dragon. Nope. He'll definately move if necessary.
Anson nods again, "Where's he going, you think?" he asks the ex-hunter, keeping an eye on the brown as well as the other things that happen nearby, having stopped trying to look at the far end of the grounds. "I'm so nervous..." He echoes almost every other candidate's sentiment as he shifts his weight again quickly.
Solonor watches the brown as it darts accross the sands, looking intent upon someone.
It's a sly one, is Banded Azure And Alabaster Egg. A rustle it's given here, a fleeting shimmer there, as it sits on the Sands, seeming intent on holding it's secret safely ensconced in heat, and shell. But even the best kept secrets have a way of popping out when they're least expected. And so, this one does, in a flurry of shards, and flecks of colour, reveal itself. In the shape of a nimbly bedecked bronze hatchling.
Rhayna just watches with fascination at the whole scene, smiling softly to herself and almost seeming to be in her own world.
Riddyn's kept his feet still a bit too long, and the left one gets yanked up of the Sands with a hissed, "Shard it..." It's back to the step, hop, step of the candidate shuffle. And then.. what's this. "Abby! You made it." The man fairly beams down at her, giving her hand a small squeeze with the one she's claimed. And over to Yysare, "You what, little one?" Gee.. how'd -this- particular candidate manage to get himself surrounded by young women? And towards Gretchen, "Let it be... we're all nervous. Her talk isn't hurting anyone."
Silvered Sky Dreams Egg can roll, too. Just see if it can't--can, can! Look, it's rolling, back and forth, up and down, shaking with a definitive motion. Yes, candidates, weyrleaders, all: this egg is rolling. A shuddering of hardened shell marks it's movement, bobbing against a sea of black sand to dwell in the hot air. Roll, push, shudder. Impressive, I tell you.
Solonor notices another Bronze hatch, and pokes a few candidates near him to point it out.
Mechelle's eyes widen, if they /can/ anymore than they already are, as she catches sight of the newly hatched bronze. Her breath is let out with a soft "Ohhh...", holding onto Kath's hand more tightly,"Look at that one, Kath..." As if Kath doesn't see it for herself! "Wonder who the lucky man will be!"
Zaedrial nudges Valdair in the ribs again, motioning to the bronze that has just hatched, "Look at him." He says, but returning his eyes on the brown until the dragonet makes his choice.
Anson does a double take at the bronze's entrance. "Faranth...Look at him, Mag!" he exclaims as he watches the newly hatched bronzeling in awe. "Beautiful, isn't he?" he asks his friend, almost stopping his shifting upon the black sands.
Yysare giggles. "Yes, I do, don't I? It's all right, so long as I'm not bothering you. I'm sorry, but I just can't help it. I hope he does, too, and...do you like him? Maybe he'll choose you. We'll see." Then...the *bronze* hatches. Ooooh. "Ooh, /Riddyn/, look at it, it's a /bronze/....oh he's - he's - lovely! Loook at him!"
Valdair takes in a quick breath at the hatching of the bronze dragon, eyes being torn away from the 'quite in a hurry' brown to look. Vision roams over the beautiful hide. "I see.." Is his response to the nudgings of Zaedrial.
Solonor grins at the other candidates, and wonders where that brown went to.
Magmus is looking, his jaw dropping abit. "Yeah, he is rather handsome. But then again, almost every dragonet so far has been." A side-ways grin escapes the candidate as he gazes thoughtfully from brown to bronze.
T'yari returns, greens and lifemates safely out of the way and filling themselves with food, at least on the dragonets' parts. The bronze is eyed, considered, and tallied: "That's two, right?"
Abalonie gives Riddyn a little nervous smile before pausing to puff thick auburn hair out of her eyes, already too hot to stand it sticking to her forehead. She clings to Riddyn like she did last Hatching, then giggles slightly as she notices the Riddyn in the sea of girls, just looking out towards the dragonets and other eggs and trying not to fry her little toesies.
The eggs continue to make their crackling noises, and the newly hatched dragonets continue to choose their lifemates, the one that they'll share this special bond with. Felisha, still silent, and acting as noble as possible moves her eyes to the bronze that makes it's appearance known by the shattering of it's shell. Blue eyes manage to find themselves on the brown once more, the one that seems intent on someone or something. She can't help but smile, no matter how idiotically it's done, she can't help but be filled with happiness. Arms still danging at her sides, fingers are wide spread and pushed against the outside of her thighs.
Darkly Illumined Brown Hatchling speeds up a bit, as he draws near to that... tickle. That odd twinge that he senses. Despite the quickened pace at which he is traveling at, the brown manages to keep his balance, for the most part. The one, the very one that is perfect for himself, is now locked in his whirling eyes, as he rushes forth, slowing down at the precise moment, to pause, right before the feet of a candidate, gazing upwards. No, don't try to dodge. It's this one he's been searching for.
Darkly Illumined Brown Hatchling pauses before Zaedrial, looking up with whirling eyes.
Gretchen glances Riddyn's way, gaze tearing from brown to fellow Candidate. "She's not bothering me. I was just..." Anyway. Eyes slip to Yysare, and she smiles. A genuine smile. They're rare, yes. "No bother. No worries." Indeed. "He's fine-looking, yes. Who knows? He might choose *you*." Or something. Another jerk, and she quickly looks over at the new bronzeling. "Another handsome one."
Solonor catches sight of the brown as it makes Impression to Zaedrial. "Congrats, Zae!!"
Riddyn does indeed look as Yysare points out the bronze. "Amber... definately
dark amber for that one." he comments. Planning another set of gifts for all those that Impress this round, no doubt. Abalonie's giggle gets a glance and a smile, as he murmurs something meant for her ears alone.
T'rrent yawns. He actually yawns. He's not bored, mind you - as a matter of fact, the yawn interrupts (and is probably brought on by) a rather loud howl of delight at Zaedrial's Impression - he's just tired. Morpheth grunts at his rider for the odd gesture, but T'rrent just waves it off, too caught up in the proceedings to do much else.
Serriena watches the impressions happening. "Oh the brown finally chose someone." She points to where he is looking up at Zaedrial. Her eyes wander to the bronze and she says, "He's cute.. Too bad bronzes don't pickgirls." Not that she needs any more males in the weyr thank you very much.
Valdair stares, even as his head is turned back again to look at the candidate who has been nudging him throughout the entire hatching. "Zaedrial..." He watches the Impression..so close to him. "Congratulations..." Smile finds its way to him. Wasn't he just swimming with him earlier today? In an instant, things change.
Z'ed looks around at the bowl after dropping down to his knees, "Yes, Demirth, it is busy in here. Lets find somewhere else to be." He raises to his feet, looking around to see where it is he is susposed to go. "There will be food there as well." He says, his hand resting on the brown's head.
G'nar comes back from yet another trip to the sandy niche, looking over at Isyrath with a hint of irritation "You know, one could wish she hadn't been quite so prolific." He muses to his fellow assistant weyrlingmaster "I'm getting kind of tired. And I could use something to drink. Hey, can you get that one?" he points to where the brown just impressed, his eyes catching sight of the bronze "Nice."
Mechelle's eyes are torn from the bronze to the brown, as it rushes on it's way, right to Zaedrial. She nods slightly, as if she just /knew/ he'd Impress. Funny, since she doesn't really know him that well...But then, she has to do something to look a bit less frazzled and nervous than she really is. She continues marching in place, trying not to let the heat burn the soles of her sandals off.
Magmus lets out a slight chuckle, eyes moving to Zaedrial. "He was sure of himself, eh Anson? Congrats, Zaedrial!" The hunter-candidate belts out, hoping his friend could hear his wishes, although he does hear his name. "Demirth. That's an interesting name. Right Anson?" While shifting his feet yet again, the ex-hunter looks to Anson thoughtfully.
Anson gasps yet again, "Look! Zae Impressed that brown!" he shouts out his congratulations to the new brownrider, grinning wildly again. "That's so great..." he laughs softly, "Good for Zae...er...Z'ed?" he asks Magmus with a grin, nodding at the name. "Indeed." He tries to breath more regularly, nerves getting to him again.
"Yeah, I can do that." Off T'yari goes once more, heading for Zaedrial as the brown makes his choice and being careful to skirt around the edges, keeping out of the way. "Hi." His next words are directed towards Z'ed and Demirth, accompanied by a small smile. "You can come get food this way, if you'd follow me?"
Gamboled in Amber Bronze Hatchling strides away from the remains of his shell. Okay, he doesn't. More like he wanders, meandering too and fro, already searching for just the right one. All the while taking his own, sweet lazing time about holding wings unfurled. Hard to subsist with wet wings, now isn't it? And why are all these others moving about too? Ah well, there's a patch of white that looks promising.
T'yari heads over to the small niche.
Z'ed nods towards T'yari, making sure his lifemate is at his side as he heads off the sands.
Z'ed heads over to the small niche.
Katheia leans forward to see who impressed and calls out congratulations as well.
Demirth tilts his head upwards a bit, admiring gaze settled on Z'ed, tail turning in the sands beyond. A rich croon is uttered, as he is led off towards the niche with his lifemate, who, he assures remains right at his side.
Demirth heads over to the small niche.
Solonor smiles at the little bronze as it begins wandering around. "Adorable creatures, no?" is asked to noone in particular
Valdair turns again back to the eggs and dragonets, a gap now in the line beside him. In fact, as he looks down the row of candidates, it seems that there are more and more gaps. He briefly lets his eyes settle on a few of the other candidates he knows particularly well, before once more attention is attached to the eggs.
Dusty Oasis Egg has arrived.
Rhayna sighs softly, watching the newest pair walk off the sands. Her eyes return to the eggs and hatchlings, the enigmatic smile still playing on her lips.
T'yari comes over from the small area reserved for weyrlings.
Felisha takes in a deep breath. Zaedrial.. Z'ed. What a perfect choice, he's quite a nice young man, he deserves such a brown. Attention is diverted from the new pair to find yet another green hatch and impress, to a man close to her, in fact. Giving him a nod of congrats, and blinking a couple of times, eyes fall on the still unhatched eggs, though most appear to have moved at once at this point. Having lost track, she strains her eyes to examine some of the further away hatchlings. An idle hand comes up and rubs at her nose, with all the movement, seems a bit of dust is getting to her.
Yysare returns the smile with a brilliant beam of her own (she's full of them this evening, so it shouldn't be too much of a difference), nodding. "Absolutely! Me? Oh, no.../oh/! Look! He chose...Zaedrial! I *talked* to him, too, and this, this, this is so unreal, I can't. Thank you for holding my hand! Oh. Do you like the bronze? He's...I'll say it again, he's beautiful. I can't think about Impressing, it's much too overwhelming. But I /love/ being here, so close to the dragons, and their /lifemates/! It's scary, though. I don't know if I could handle it if I didn't have hands to hold." A big bright beam right up at Riddyn.
Mechelle catches Valdair's glance down the line and smiles slightly, pointing at the bronze, isn't he lovely? She then turns her attention back to the middle of the sands. There's more eggs out there rocking. What color will come out next? No telling! They've all been so beautiful, though. Of /course/ they should be, coming from such beautiful eggs!
Anson shakes his head as he looks to Magmus, "There're still so many left!" he shakes his head as he tries to maintain regular breathing. "Has Madaline Impressed? I haven't seen her yet..." he asks Magmus curiously, looking about his as he shuffles on the sands again.
Dusty Oasis Egg might have moved... or was it nothing more than a trick of flickering shadows, dancing across the surface this clouded shell. The elusive shimmer is stilled even before it's discernable, drawing only the keenest eyes to this paled ovoid. Insubstantial wisps of color settle... and then stir as if the most minute breezes drew animation to the miasmic sphere.
Serriena watches things happening so quickly on the sands. She watches the Dusty Oasis egg and then spies that it will hatch soon. Of course her eyes swing to the sunshine egg and she peers at all of them. Someone once said this could take days to hatch. She squeezes Katheia's hand although her palm is probably really sweaty.
Magmus eyes Anson, almost coldly. "Why would you ask me? It's not like I've kept an eye out." Muttering to himself, the Dusty Oasis Egg catches his vision--a nod being given. "Look, another one's moving Anson." Just like Anson, Mag is having trouble controlling his breathing, wide muscled chest lifting up and down.
Chatter, chatter.. they're all beautiful. They're all wonderful, magical, bright little creatures, and.. they blend together. Too much glamour dulls the others, and Dara just sees.. whirling. Too many colors for the stablehand's eyes -- that's all she is, right? After this is over, she'll go back, sit down on her cot, wonder.. maybe there's a dragon that wants her. Maybe. She's beginning to doubt it.. just a little. The girl shuffles some more, lidding her eyes shut. She can tell what's going on by the stream of chatter just as well as by her ears.. which isn't well at all.
A green tumbles to the Sands after the wall of Serpentine Striations Egg gives way suddenly, leaving her a mess of fluid, tail and wings. Creeling, it takes her quite some time to right herself, and by then, she's rather tired. Still, her small haunches propel her forward in her search for someone to at least feed her. Fortune seems to smile upon the hatchling, though, as her gaze almost immediately settles on a petite Holder girl and Impression is made.
Silvered Sky Dreams Egg rolls again, tossing over a pile of black sand to delve into the textured mess. Well, indeed. That's quite fun. Shuddering isn't though: it's very difficult, when everything is shaking and quaking, and the poor egg is suffering an intense batterment.
G'nar heads out to take care of the green and her new lifemate, giving T'yari a break this time, his pace not quite as quick as it was earlier.
T'yari is actually frightened of Yysare, you see, and when her never-ending chatter reaches his ears, the greenrider eyes the candidate for a minute before returning to his original place near G'nar, who's safer. Imagine that -- Yari thinking that that particular brownrider's actually safe. Will wonders never cease. "They /could/ go slower," he mutters.
Solonor waits for the bronze to make his pick of the remaining Candidates. "Wonder who'll Impress that one?" Is said to the nearest Candidate.
Abalonie will just stand here to cling to Riddyn, thank you very much, as she quietly slips from one foot to the other, trying to balance out the heat.
Mechelle looks back over her shoulder yet again, then shoos a girl away from her, "Go stand in line..Not behind me!" she whispers, making sure the girl leaves before again peering onto the sands and the pairings that continue to be made. She shuffles again, right foot, left foot, right foot, left...She'll have a talk with that trader that told her /no/ heat could get through these soles!
Gamboled in Amber Bronze Hatchling dips his head, finally refurling his wings as he finds a particular patch, yes, just the right little niche of white just over there. Yes there, where that one in standing. And isn't it nice when they have everything you need right there waiting for you and you don't have to do a bit of work? Well, maybe just a bit, a nudge of bronzen muzzle against a white clad stomach, just to get his one's attention. Look down, would you, oh tall muscled one?
Katheia squeezes the hands she holds and listens to the chatter and the rustling of feet against sand, and robes and everything else that one can hear on the sands. Her eyes do flicker over to the hatchlings every now and then as she looks to see who impresses and such.
Riddyn looks down at Yysare through her flow of words, and winks one icey eye in responce to that so-bright smile. "Truly this will be a story to tell, won't it, little one?" he asks with a grin. Just what she needs... something -else- to plague the unsuspecting with as she decends upon them. "Oh? You knew the one the brown went to?" Then his rumbling, deep chuckle emerges from the vicinity of his chest again, "I'll let you in on a secret, little one. -I- couldn't handle it either." Head turns then towards Abby, and she gets another smile.
Anson grins at Magmus, "Don't give me that tone Mag. It was an innocent question." He quips to the ex-hunter. "You sure it moved?" he asks of the dusty oasis egg curiously.
Serriena tries to see who the bronze impressed. "Did you catch it?" She squeezes Katheia's hand and shuffles from foot to foot. This waiting and the heat is about to get her.
Gamboled in Amber Bronze Hatchling pauses before Magmus, looking up with whirling eyes.
Rhayna watches the bronze go for his chosen, and stop before her good friend. She smiles brightly, calling to him, "Congrats, Magmus!
Solonor yells over to Magmus. "Congratulations!!!"
Dusty Oasis Egg rests so still... so subdued... all flickers of hard-baked desert halting into one singular moment of poise. As if ensconced in the breathless heat beneath an unforgiving sun, there is nothing but stillness spread across the surface - harsh, unforgiving, crisp, unbearable... waiting.
Morpheth lets out a soft creel of delight and encouragement at any hatchlings who wander close enough to hear the noise above the din. T'rrent does round about the same, though his cheers are for Magmus! "Yeah!" he shouts, leaping to his feet suddenly and laughing in mirth.
Mechelle nods slightly as she watches Magmus and his bronze lifemate. One man that will take to dragonrider well. A thought suddenly crosses her mind and she giggles slightly, "Wonder if he'll be hunting tunnelsnakes now..."
Valdair breaks into a grin as the bronze finds Magmus, for once lifting his voice along with the rest of the candidates. "Congratulations!" His friend..first male friend at the weyr. Eyes are bright behind the veil of raven.
Arrogance of Passion Egg has arrived.
Arrogance of Passion Egg doesn't hop, or lurch, or any other such horrid sounding verbs. No, Arrogance of Passion Egg simply saunters forward with impeccable grace, rolling in a line just shy of perfection. And it is on this course it stays for quite some time, elegantly avoiding collisions with its brethren by sheer coincidence.
Anson breathes slowly, beaming toward his friend. "Oh Magmus....Congratulations my friend." The stablehand-candidate could not look more proud at this moment as he watches the Impression take place between bronze and hunter. "Congratulations.."
Striking streaks of lightning cracks break through the bright billowing blue sky of Silvered Skydreams egg. Rainbowed shards burst forth in all directions and the shattered remains quickly crumble away in a shower of rose and silver. In the wake of the storm a determined brown dragonet looks about with large, lovable, awestruck eyes.
Felisha watches the contant movement of the sands, there never being a single pause as nearly everyone shifts from foot to foot, and the eggs and hatchlings make their necessary movements. This certain candidate, Felisha, tries to hold herself from moving, though it's incredibly hard with all of the excitement. The sudden rush of electricity everytime a new dragonet is impressed, and the heat waves emitting from the sands. Eyes bright up suddently as she can't help but let out a suddenly, "/Magmus/!" In utter delight, of course.
Blinks. There is no other way to describe the look on M'gus's face as he looks down at the bronze, one tear forming in the corner of his eye. One becomes two, and two becomes many. "Pseusath? Eat? Yes...oh yes, of course! Eat!" Like that would be the only thing else in the world to do right now, M'gus falls to his knees to gently caress the bronze's neck.
G'nar looks with surprise at the newest impressee, then grins "Well....suppose he's going to have to leave off hunting tunnel snakes." He notes. "He's got bigger problems now." He saunters off towards the bronze and his lifemate, "Congratulations....let's get your new friend here something to eat - for once, you won't need to hunt it first." He teases, turning towards the sandy niche.
Katheia's gaze widens as she sees Magmus' impression, "Magmus! Congratulations!" Katheia even goes so far as bouncing, as she sees her friend impress. She turns to grin at both Mechelle and Serri, "Magmus impressed! He impressed!"
Rhayna watches the next one come. "Sure are a lot of 'em..."
Serriena lets out a cry, a cheer for Magmus, no longer Magmus or even Magmusina. "He did it!" She grins and turns to Katheia with cheerful midnight blue eyes. "Look at that!"
Gretchen is *still* still here. Bronze is eyed as he moves...towards Magmus? "Woohoo!" Oops. That hand - the one that had balled into a fist and was promptly thrust into the air - slowly lowers to her side again, and she clears her throat. More shifting. This time nervous shifting. Nobody heard that. And if you did? Pretend you didn't. It's easier then it seems. And then *that* egg is here. "Oh!" Nope. Didn't hear that either. The jolt that comes from the newest brown's hatching isn't nearly as violent as the others had been. Eyes narrow again, and she smirks. Again. "Interesting." Indeed.
G'nar heads over to the small niche.
M'gus heads over to the small niche.
Solonor grins, his eyes caught by the brown that just entered the world. Since other candidates have been Impressing around him, he's slowely made his way over to Anson's location. "Over there Anson, a brown!"
Dara claps politely. Oh. Magmus. She knows him, doesn't she? Hard to know if she knows.. anyone.. in this mess of colors. The girl's stable.. her emotions never taking that dip-dive-upthrust flight that some people's seem to. Happiness is one thing, sadness is another.. right now, the girl just wishes she could get out of here. Away from hot sands. Away from.. all of it. It's a bit painful. Doesn't one.. even one?
Mechelle's eyes are drawn to the golden egg as it moves. She squeezes Kath's hand harder, "Did you see that? The gold! It'll hatch soon, I bet! Look at Madaline. See how she's all ready to race forward! The audacity of that girl!"
Valdair manages to tear his eyes away from Magmus after a while, smile now stuck onto his face. Newly hatched brown is seen, and he watches, seemingly a little less nervous now than before. However, it doesn't stop him from shifting on his feet..increasingly so. It's hot!
G'nar comes over from the small area reserved for weyrlings.
Pseusath heads over to the small niche.
"Well, I didn't /know/ know him, but I'd...ooh, look, the bronze Impressed! Oh, I'll bet you get a bronze. Well, any color would be equally wonderful. The /greens/ are /so/ adorable. Look! The gold egg moved! Ooh, another hatched - brown, too! My." Yysare couldn't possibly beam any more (if this is possible), but she tries to beam up at Riddyn, too. "Oh, of course you could - but that was a nice thing to say. I love nice people."
Anson smiles proudly at the exit of bronze and M'gus before nodding. "That's perfect." is all he says, rather happy to see his friend Impress. He nods again to Sol, "I see it." he grins, "Rather dapper, isn't he?" he asks the other candidate.
Abalonie watches the dragons with her usual sort of interrupted calm, squeezing Riddyn's hand gently as she shakes her head and admits, in as quiet a voice as she can manage, "I'm scared, Riddyn. There are so many people here.." Figures. Middle of a Hatching, tons of hot, searing sand, huge dragons, lots of stumbling little dragons, all equipped with teeth and claws, and Abalonie is worried about the people.
Solonor nods to Anson, "Aye, he is. Wonder who'll be the lucky one this time?"
Innocently Jeweled Brown Hatchling more saunters from his egg than anything -- how's that for confidence? Stance is insightfully determined for all that: he maintains speed over the sands as he begins his search, diligently removing gaze from anything less than worthwhile. Morpheth: less than wortwhile. Isyrath: Well---he stares at his dam for a long moment, nudges towards her, then moves off again. Perhaps...not his.
Anson chuckles, "Well, Mag's Impression made my day." he comments to no one in particular before shrugging, "I don't know. I guess we'll have to see, eh?" he asks Solonor with a grin.
Serriena laughs at the brown hatchling. "Did you see that?" She begins to giggle at the audacity of the little brown who would judge his own sire. Especially a tall bronze like Morpheth.
Solonor chuckles, "Aye, we will. Good luck to you, Anson."
T'yari watches the brown, faintly bemused, then cheerily calls over to G'nar, "I'll bet you that the next one out's a green." His hopes of an all-green clutch -- or, barring that, an almost all-green clutch -- fail to diminish.
Rhayna smiles at Anson. "He sure deserved it. And was it a bronze he got?"
Riddyn blinks.. uh-oh. He's nice? Well, that was a given, true, but... "Aye, it seems that he did, lass." he says to Yysare, smiling. "Though I doubt that.. yes, all colours are wonderful. Beatiful forms to carve." And that's as close as he thinks he'll ever get to a lifemate, really. A small carving set up upon a shelf, or tucked away safely in some niche to be displayed. Abalonie's words then capture his attention, away from the Chattery One and watching the Sands. "I know, dear heart, I know." he says quietly to her. "It'll be alright, don't you fear. I'm right here, and I always will be. You know that."
Valdair allows his hands to take ahold of his rope a little, something for his hands to do in all of this confusion. He watches, waits, and smiles, the number of candidates around him decreasing. At length, he moves, stopping beside another candidate, one he doesn't know too well. But hey, it's better than standing all alone.
Innocently Jeweled Brown Hatchling pauses before Gretchen, looking up with whirling eyes.
Solonor smiles as Gretchen Impresses. A "congratulations!" Is called out.
Felisha lets herself go back to immediate silence as another brown is hatched. Orbs linger over him for several seconds, his amazingly unique color patterns intriguing every corner of her mind. She'll let herself brood over this one, and the green over there, and that bronze, and then the thoughts of all of her friends finding the ones that they longed for so very much. She's overfilled with excitement if anything else, her attention switching from Dara to Riddyn, and then to the brown again, and the green far over there. Wonderful creatures, such a variety.
Abalonie pauses a moment, looking up at Riddyn. She blinks her gold-brown eyes once, then smiles and hugs his arm gently, turning her gaze back out to the sands. She offers a smile down to Gretchen, only hoping she catches it. It'll be amazing the day that the quiet young woman actually yells.
Mechelle raises a foot, waits a bit, then sets it down, only to raise the other one...again...Turning her head to survey the candidates left on the sands, she notes Gretchen's Impression. "Beautiful..." she comments softly before turning sparkling eyes back to the eggs.
Anson beams yet again, this time to Gretchen. "Yes!" he nearly shouts, "Congratulations Greta!" Indeed, the young man seems rather happy to see his friends Impress right and left of him. He looks rather proud of the new brownrider.
Dara can think of nothing but.. runners. Odd. It's not so bad, really, she consoles herself in advance. Not so bad. The runners'll be happy to see you again. Asher won't feel overshadowed. Clap, clap, for any Candidate who suddenly isn't.. clap.
Valdair watches Gretchen Impress, smiling, and nods at the choice of the brown. The two seem to match perfectly, as it should be.
Gretchen's sigh is audible. Very audible. Feet shift rapidly in an almost-hop, and she rubs her free hand against her robe's side. Again. Sweaty palms and all. "He's sauntering," she comments about that brown. "Lookit 'im go." Hm. "I like brown." Yes. That's been decided. Just now. Hand squeezes Yysare's again, and then...suddenly just...releases. Completely. "Nadeth?" Blink. *That* wasn't expected. "Um...no, no. I don't need anything. How about *I* get *you* something." Heat forgotten, she sinks to her knees, eyes wide with...well, *wonder*.
G'nar grins at T'yari, coming back from the niche. "You want them all to be green, like you" He teases..."Of course, one could hope they don't all have your shyness, 'Yari."
Cracks split, forking across the powdery surface of the Dusty Oasis Egg - the desert baked to hardness and splitting, crackling with age-old dehydration. Spreading like so many rivulets of muddy water are the striations that web the surface even as the first glimpse of a bronze wedge breaks through the greenish glimmer at the apex. Soon, the cracks widen until the entire shell surrenders, falling as so much dust around a lush bronze dragonet.
Solonor chuckles at Anson, pointing out the new bronze. "Wonder if either of us will be lucky today?"
Nadeth nudges up against Gretchen. Good start, for his special dame. Now---?
Rhayna smiles as Gretchen Impresses the brown. "Congrats," she says quietly, even if the new brownrider might not hear her.
Impudent, T'yari just sticks his tongue out at G'nar, retorting, "So?" The greenrider promptly blushes, hiding it by turning away to scoot towards Gretchen and the brown -- Nadeth. "Come with me," he directs.
T'yari heads over to the small niche.
Even though well-cracked, Magma Glow(basket) Egg still keeps much of its shape as a thin brown hatchling shoves his way through the halves of the shell. Once out in the open, the hatchling gives a mighty yawn for one so young then seemingly just shuffles off. Lazily, he picks his way around the Sands, pausing for a moment in front of a haughty girl, and later in front of a scared young boy. Another yawn signals his choice, however, as he stops in front of a red-haired Harper lad. "Ruzeath?" the boy questions incredulously before grinning widely.
"Oh, I like them, too. Brown.I'll bet you'd loook beautiful with a brown. And yes, Riddyn, you're nice! And! Oh, you're simply the sweetest thing on the face of this earth. Don't you think, Gr - Gretchen? Gretchen? Nedath, who's...GRETCHEN!" Shriek! "Gretchen, oh /look/, she Impressed, oh, oh, she /Impressed/ I can't...well, of /course/ you did...he's so beautiful! I love him! Gretchen! There goes one hand, but at least I still have Riddyn.../Gretchen!/"
Arrogance of Passion Egg's gentle motion continues, sending it further along its path of pristine perfection, tracing a line behind itself in the searing Sands. And how does it end this immaculate journey? It stops, that's how. It simply stops right there in center stage for all to see.
Valdair takes in a quick breath at the sight of another bronze making its way out of the Dusty Oasis egg, eyes moving from the Impression to the dragonet now, watching.
Serriena grins at Gretchen. "Oh the brown chose her!" She grins. Just from the behavior of the brown she can tell Gretchen will have her hands full. "Oh poor Belena. She'll have to train him."
Riddyn blinks at the Impression so close to him. "Congradulations!" he grins, giving both Abby and Yysare's hands a squeeze. "See, I -told- you friends would be Impressing today, Yysare."
Subtle in Silver Egg has arrived.
Gretchen is nudged. She's at her feet in an instant, and following after T'yari in a dazed sort of way. "Come, Nadeth." *Her* Nadeth.
Gretchen heads over to the small niche.
Katheia glances over at the gold egg, but then her attention is caught by the latest hatchling. With a tug on Serri's hand she nods her head toward the hatchling, "Isn't he pretty?" She can't really point with both her hands in the other girl's hands, "Beautiful really!"
Anson blinks, "Shards and shells...Look at 'im..." he whispers, shifting nervously upon the sands of the hatching grounds.
Nadeth heads over to the small niche.
G'nar trots out after the other newly impressed brown and the flame-haired harper lad, returning with feet a bit more sore than they were at the start of this.
Mechelle squeezes Kath's hand once again, then just as quickly loosens it, a look of apology on her face. She's surprised that Kath's hand isn't broken, the way she's been squeezing it. She notes the new bronze, and turns her gaze to look over the male candidates that remain on the sands. Still quite a few! Her eyes turn to the gold egg, settling on it for a while. It will hatch soon, and she really doesn't want to miss /that/ hatching!
Dapples of Tropical Bronze Hatchling moves just enough to shake free the dusty remnants that were his eggshell, the array of shards flickering in the glowlit cavern, pooling on the black Sands at his feet. Liquid movement trickles through his being as he spreads, just slightly, his damp wingsails, but all grace evaporates when he takes that first bobbled step. Lurching several paces, he rights himself just before landing on his nose, giving pause as if to sort out this whole walking business. His next attempt is MUCH better.
Solonor does much the same as Anson. Even muttering something similar under his breath. "Faranth! Marvelous, that one!"
Making sure not to let herself slouch, as that'd surely not be appealing whatsoever, Felisha holds her head high. Eyeballs moving slightly, to see if anyone's looking, she brings a hand up and gives her belly an itch and tugs at the fabric there. She's a bit hot with all of these clothes and the amount of humidity in the location. Hand is quickly dropped to her side again, tongue pokes out of her mouth to moisten her lips, though it doesn't do much good, it still helps a bit, she needs some balm, though. Eyes gaze across the expanse of the sands to watch the wandering hatchlings.
Rhayna watches as yet /another/ bronze is hatched and shakes her head a little. Definitely won't be for her.
T'yari comes over from the small area reserved for weyrlings.
Valdair cannot hide the slight smirk that appears across his face as the bronze hatchling has a bit of trouble walking. Baby steps. Baby steps. He takes a few of his own, for that matter, heat once again getting to his poor sandled feet.
Anson grins at the bronze's rather unique entrance. "Well, you can't blame him, eh? No one's perfect." he offers to Solonor as he watches the events unravel on the sands, shifting weight nervously again.
Subtle in Silver Egg has remained still for far too long, and this simply must be dealt with. With a leap, the egg is sent rolling from the sandy environs of its mound, slipping down, to nestle lightly at the base of its former home. For a now, the oddly bowed egg, draped in a lush cloak of metallic silver and flickering with washes of gold, holds still... Though, this serenity may not last for long.
Riddyn catches sight of another bronze, wincing a bit at the attempts at walking. "Hard to imagine these little ones becoming the graceful creatures they'll grow up to be..."
Dara bites her lip a little. So many others are being taken away, to.. somewhere. She doesn't know what happens next.. clap. Clap. Why does she want to just.. well. The girl shuffles a little more, edging closer to Serriena, if she's still there, hands moving mechanically in praise for the lucky ones.
Serriena reaches up with her free hand, the one not held by Katheia to swipe at her bangs which seem to have curled on her forehead that sweats. She's sweating, not glowing. She could have run five klicks looking the way she does. "Katheia that bronze is cute. Three of them so far. Morpheth is probably a proud sire." She chuckles. "Even Nadeth that little imp." She chuckles over the brown still. That had to have been one cute moment.
In nearly the same moment, a pair of hatchlings, blue and green in color, spill out of Jazz And Cognac Egg and Sunshine And Humour Egg. While the blue sits in a puddle of egg fluid and shards, dazed from his fall, his green clutchmate springs into action, racing across the Sands to find her lifemate. For all her energy though, it is the blue who finds his match first after slowly righting himself and stumbling into a Fishercraft apprentice. Even so, Impression for the green isn't far behind as she locks her sights on a pimply-faced young man.
Yysare barely has time to notice the bronze, so caught up in the fact of Gretchen's Impressing is she, but she does take the time to point him and his beautifulness out to Riddyn, and say, "Another bronze! My. This is certainly good. Oh, dear, the gold moved again. Gretchen! I could sit here and talk all /day/ about Gretchen..." Calling across the sands, "Oh, Gretchen, /do/ introduce me to him someday!" And then she just beams. And takes her now-free hand and uses it to catch a double-grip at Riddyn's hand.
G'nar grins at T'yari, but it's a weary thing "You take the green, I'll take the blue?" he suggests, watching the two impress instantaneously. "Shells, I need a drink!"
Dapples of Tropical Bronze Hatchling takes elegant, flowing steps this time - slow as sunset. It's an odd juxtaposition, this dragonet of watery grace and the searing heat of black Sands. Talons rake runnels in his wake, spilling the sand in crests that fold over and atop one another as he moves with lithe eloquence toward something - or is it someone?
Mechelle's eyes catch movement and she turns from the gold egg to watch the little bronze, then her gaze returns to the gold egg, first noting the egg that seems to be full of energy, the way it bounces around!
Solonor points at the bronze. "He's going for someone!"
"Sure," T'yari agrees, starting towards the green before throwing back an agreeing nod. "No kidding. It's /hot./ I'd forgotten." But he won't next time, never fear. Sweltering on the Sands is not his idea of a Good Time.
Abalonie looks thoughtful for a moment before remarking, lightly, "Not really. I mean, we all start out as babies, and we can't walk or anything.. and we are usually graceful when we get older.." She blushes - probably just the heat - and lapses back into silence, auburn hair clinging to her temples as she watches these new little eggs and dragons.
G'nar is already off after the blue, guiding the new lifemates to the niche, smiling at their bemusement.
Arrogance of Passion Egg, tired of all this dillydallying around, finally rolls out away from the rest, taking center stage, as it were. For a moment, there is no further movement from the golden ovoid, until an audible crack permeates the Sands, and the egg splits along its circumference into two equal halves, which fall to either side of the brilliantly golden occupant. She merely flutters her wings with the barest amount of effort to shed the remaining specks of shell.
Anson tilts his head at the bronze dragonet's steps. "Well, he's certainly making up for that first step, that's for certain."
Valdair remembers to breath, for it's important, and continues to watch, gaze flickering a few times towards the shifting gold egg, interest in it present if only to see who the beauty within will impress to. As it hatches under his gaze however, mouth drops open for an instant.
Rhayna looks over at the hatchling that just appears. Her eyes go wide and she swallows deeply. Even /she/ knows what colour that one is.
Solonor grins, "Anson, the Gold's hatched!"
Llilian seems to come back from whatever plane she was lost on, a bright grin splitting her facce as lifemates move to and fro, making their way from the Sands, eyes trailing over to the golden one with a warm, almost affectionate expression.
Dapples of Tropical Bronze Hatchling makes up for that first step, indeed! With airy ease, with perfect grace, with a trip and a fall, he lurches right into a white-robed figure. So much for dignity.
Dapples of Tropical Bronze Hatchling pauses before Anson, looking up with whirling eyes.
Mechelle's breath leaves her for a moment as the gold hatches. She can't breathe, she can't think...she just watches the most beautiful dragonet on the sands. Her hand squeezes Kath's in a bone-cracking grip, then she finally lets out her breath with a loud sigh.
Valdair grins a bit as his traveling gaze finds Anson Impressing, and his congratulations are called out to his friend.
Rhayna watches Anson Impress and smiles softly again. "Congrats, Ans.. Um, An.." she ponders for a moment.
Riddyn's done with holding hands. At least on the side which Abby is standing on. Besides, it'd be a bit hard to get his hand loose from Yysare's double grip. He gently moves to disengage his arm, so he can slip it around Abby's shoulders and pull her close in a half hug, before releasing her to take her hand again. best not cling to close, in case the group needs to dash to one side or the other. "None so graceful as you." he notes to Abby, before offering Yysare a grin.. and motion is caught out of the corner of his eye... "Oh... look you two! The gold hatched!"
Solonor yells in surprise as the Bronze ImpresseAon rigt x im. "Cngratulations, Anson!"
Serriena can't help it. The minute that gold egg cracks she looks over and sees the hatchling. "Oh Isyrath." Yes she remember the first time Isyrath had broken her shell like that too. She squeezes Katheia's hand a little tighter. "Anson!' She looks over having heard his name yelled. "Congratulations!"
Katheia's eyes definitely widen at that bone crushing grip from Mechelle, and the ex-healer turns her gaze to the gold dragon. She breathes quietly, "Lovely, shells." At the sound of Anson's name Kathe's head whips around and she adds her voice to the congratulations, "Anson! Congratulations!"
Upon returning, T'yari takes a moment to peer, enthralled, at the gold. "Oh, she's nice," he decides immediately, casting a look towards Isyrath, the dam and calling quietly to Llilian, "Tell her congratulations for me, will you, on clutching her?" Attention is then drawn back to the immediate Impressions -- specifically, Anson. "Oh, dear Faranth." That's all he's got to say about /that./ "You can take, G'nar." Because Yari is staying far, far away.
Dara watches some more, though dulled gaze. Do the golds pick the best leaders, even? Everything governed so nicely.. the girl lets her hands drop to her side. It gets a little dull after a while. Just a little. She's stayed away from everyone, there's not many friends to be happy for.. Anson, though, he gets a weak little smile. Bronze. Pretty.
Anson blinks, "Perfect.." he nods again to the bronze, "You are perfect, Aitanth..." he smiles proudly upon the bronze. All things forgotten, everything is just background noise to the new bronzerider of the Weyr.
Mechelle's eyes turn as she hears Kath. She turns, looking at Anson, "I /knew/ it..." she says to herself.
Subtle in Silver Egg jumps into a spree of action once more, becoming a flashing, elegantly dancing orb, though slightly off in its roundness, that pivots about, and sways wildly. The motions of this silvered egg are dizzying, and with the glinting light refracted off, glorious stretches of ochre are prevalent. Fighting a wild war seems tiring, and so, the egg abandons reckless motions, falling into a peaceful trance again...
Abalonie blinks at the new gold hatchling, staring for a moment. She says, ever so quietly, "How pretty.." She then shakes her head to get rid of the dreamy wonder type thing. No matter how beautiful the others manage, the golds always seem to show them up. She tilts forward a little to see who everyone is yelling congratulations too, the heat making her dizzy so she is forced to tug on
Riddyn's hand a bit so she doesn't fall over. That would've hurt.
"Oh, /look/, she hatched! Oh my...I've never /seen/ a gold /hatchling/ before...and...she's...look! She's beautiful. And look! /Anson Impressed!/ This is all too much for me, Riddyn, I hope you Impress but could you wait until the very end? I'd simply tip over if I didn't have your hand to hold. And with that /gold/ there. Oh my." Eyes race across every female on the sands (well, every female she can see). "I can't even imagine who would Impress that gold. She's so...wow. Queenly. But...Anson Impressed! And /Gretchen/. Oh, dear, I'm going to miss her."
G'nar is back at the sidelines, and immediately has to turn around to catch the next impressed pair, bronze this time. And...."Come on, you..guess nervousness wasn't necessary, hmm?" he grins down at the new weyrling "Congratulations...let's get that bronze of yours fed." He heads off to the niche, expecting to be followed.
G'nar heads over to the small niche.
Felisha takes in a deep breath as the gold hatches. Beautiful, golden, and perfect, of course. She smiles as Anson impresses to the bronze, yet again whispering her own words of happiness to her 'tribal leader' from the Survivor-Obstacles that took place just a couple of days before she was searched by R'kel. All of them happy memories, as she watches the gold carefully, like everyone else, her hide a magnet for attention.
Valdair smiles, once again eyes moving to the candidates still present, and then back towards the gold hatchling, eyes intent on the beauty. Who shall she choose?
Smoldering Inferno Gold Hatchling has arrived. For a long while she does nothing but stand there, head canting ever so slightly to look over the arc of humans before her. When she finally does move, it's with surprising grace and stature that she takes those first few steps. She takes no second glances at her Dam and Sire - she knows what she's here for. She just has to find it.
A'son nods to G'nar absently, watching Aithanth rather raptly. He grins and nods. "Very handsome, Aithanth. Very handsome." And with that he follows G'nar to the alcove, showing Aitanth the way.
A'son heads over to the small niche.
Aitanth heads over to the small niche.
Rhayna lets out a long sigh after holding her breath and glances around. So many hatchlings, so many candidates, and all the time in the world.
G'nar comes over from the small area reserved for weyrlings.
Mechelle continues her hot-foot dance, actually moving back a bit, just a /tiny/ bit. She can still see, though, as she keeps her eyes on the gold dragonet. What a perfect dragonet! Who will be the proud lifemate? Surely not Madaline? Please don't choose Madaline, she thinks to herself.
Solonor looks about, wondering what eggs are left and what color's they contain.
Serriena wipes her forehead. She keeps an eye on the gold. She is beautiful.. and graceful. Serriena eyes the dam and sire who are ignored by the little gold dragonet. Well isn't that nice. Of course she would be prejudiced. Imagine if Derien, Ginta and Jorrien tried to ignore her later on. She'd feel sad. She shifts and watches the excitement on the sands, smiling at Anson as he leaves.
Riddyn is just a stolid bastion of strength it seems, as he keeps himself steady for Yysare and Abalonie. Tugs, pulls, whatever... he won't let either of 'his' girls fall over. On the one hand, the woman who has his heart, on the other, the lass who he's come to view as sort of a little sister. "Don't worry, Yysare, I'll be here till the end." And beyond, but he doesn't say -that-. Eyes still on the gold.. "She is lovely. I wonder who she'll go to?" Secretly hoping it's one of his dear friends... and there's only three women who aren't riders he calls dear friends.
Slowly, as if by the silent beat of a metronome, Subtle In Silver Egg begins to undulate from side to side, seeming to push outwards from apex to base, the creature captured within eagerly fighting for a way out. It takes a bit of doing, but slowly, the smooth, fluent rocking of this elegant, luminescent egg quicken in pace... In the blink of an eye, metallic shards of silver and golden fall about, breaking the harmony, and crumbling fluently to the feet of a gloriously hued hatchling, clad in lush tones of green.
Scintillating Diademed Egg has arrived.
Dara doesn't like waiting. Doesn't like waiting at all. She closes her eyes again. If there's a burst of color in her head, she'll know, but likely it'll pass her by. Of course. Idly, the stablehand adjusts her horsetail, rocking back and forth on her feet slowly.
Valdair smiles, watching the gold move and a green hatch, eyes turning momentarily on a few of his friends.
Solonor grins as another Green comes into the world. Then looks to see who is left out of all the Candidates that where here at the begining.
Scintillating Diademed Egg can shine ever so much more brightly when it's wobbling back and forth upon a bed of black sand that just *so* beautifully sets off it's diamond hues. Glassy brilliance bedecks the egg, gleaming without variation as it wiggles back and forth some more.
Yysare is transfixed by the gold hatchling, just for a second. But then she has to look at Riddyn. "Oh, dear...and...what a...pretty green...I won't! I do, too. I couldn't possibly make any bets, though." Hair frazzled, cheeks horribly red, and voice getting somewhat scratchy. But.
Mechelle reaches up with her spare hand, wiping a tear away...Such a joyful occasion this is that she can't very well be sad, but then, tears are for joyous occasions as well. She notes the beautiful green hatchling, nodding slightly before returning her attention to the golden one who is, of course, commanding most of the attention.
Felisha just feels isolated at the moment, which isn't a bad thing, but all of the people she knows are hanging on other people, but it's alright that way. It allows her to collect her thoughts, brood over things, swoosh ideas around and then throw them out. But still, she looks to fellow-candidates, making guesses in her head as to who will have the privlege of the lovely gold. Not quite content to stare at the gold, she watches a blue across the way as she picks out his beloved one.
Serriena watches the green. "Oh Katheia.... she's beautiful." She points out the little bedazzled green. She is beautiful. Serriena's eyes watch both of the female hatchlings on the sands.
Katheia squeezes both hands that hold her own and turns slightly to look at the green hatchling, "Beautiful.." At Serri's words the girl bobs her head up and down, "Aye she is."
Bedazzled Evening Green Hatchling raises upwards in a timid manner, glancing about herself with a shimmering gaze, keeping low, and remaining in the shards of her egg. This is a very, very noisy place... And look, there are so many looking at her, too. Aren't they? Nervously, the Green shifts, and makes her way from the ruins of her egg, shaking herself, to send shards to the sands. Crooning, she cranes her neck, wanting very little more than to leave all this bustle, and find that one she knows she's searching for... Oh! Quick as can be, she darts across the sands. This one may be standing alone, but now, the candidate will never be alone again!
Bedazzled Evening Green Hatchling pauses before Dara, looking up with whirling eyes.
Riddyn smiles at Yysare, ebfore turning his eyes back to watch the hatchlings. "My marks are on three ladies." he comments, before seeing the green. "Ooh.. Abby, Yysare, look there. Another fine lady, indeed." OK, so he has a thing for greens. What can a person expect when it's been green dragons that's Searched him - in rather odd ways - both times. And.. "Oh! Who's that she went to?" Too bad he can't really see.
Solonor smiles as Dara Impresses. "Congratulations!"
Rhayna smiles softly at Dara's Impression. "Congrats," she says quietly again, watching everything with a happy smile.
Valdair blinks, turning to look where the green darts off to. Well, that was quick. A smile flashes across his face, watching Dara Impress.
Laughing at some rude comment or another just recently made by a friend, the brawny young man from Bitra doesn't even notice as the green from Subtleties Of The Future Egg finds herself just in front him. It takes a angry squawk from the hatchling before he looks down in surprise, and in that moment, impression is made.
Serriena blinks. She turns as the green impresses Dara. "Oh!" She waves happily to the young girl. "Dara congratulations!" She beams and looks over to the weyrsecond. She's going to bet he's surprised!
Mechelle dares to tear her eyes away from the gold again, smiling slightly as she watches Dara Impress. Another perfect pairing, of course...They're /all/ perfect, aren't they? Then she turns back yet again...Madaline is still there, stomping her feet, trying to lure the gold hatchling to herself. Mechelle shakes her head silently, "That's not gonna work.." she mumbles to herself.../Hoping/ that it won't work for Madaline, anyway.
T'yari leaves Dara to the other assistant weyrlingmaster and, instead, heads for the other green to Impress since she and her new lifemate are closer. After a few quick words and directions, Yari trundles towards the niche off the hatching grounds, patiently waiting for the pair to catch up before ushering them inside.
Abalonie giggles softly, bumping Riddyn very lightly with her hip as she notes, with a gentle, teasing tone, "Aren't you supposed to be fawning over the browns or something?" She looks up to him for a moment, then lifts her one free hand to tug lightly at her braided hair, still not anywhere near being calm.
Katheia slides a little closer to Mechelle as the ex-healer tries to cool one of her feet by holding it above the sands for a few seconds, "What's not going to work?" Asks Kathe as she hears Mechelle mumbling to herself, "I'm so nervous." Is uttered for the hundrenth time.
Scintillating Diademed Egg shakes up and down again, hustling across it's little plot of sand with intense gyrations. Look at me? Glassy shades gather glints as if from Isyrath and Morpheth, dancing with colour as it moves up and down, back and forth, shaking sublimly in gracious movement.
No less than three of the eggs hatch in a shower of shards, reveal two greens and a blue. The green from Luminescent Lunar Egg wastes nearly no time at all in selecting a Telgari temptress, while her emerald clutchsib from Tightly Threaded Indigo Egg is more particular about choosing a quiet brunette from the High Reaches. Almost unnoticed in all of this in the Impression of the blue from Stone Of The Sisters Egg to a Guard only recently plucked from Half Circle Sea Hold.
"Savrath?" The girl echoes it softly, blinking.. just blinking. Someone wanted..? Close to tears already, almost, the sandled Candidate stumbles, nearly falling to her knees in front of the jeweled green beauty that's.. hers? Hers. "Food.. yes. Noisy in here.." She doesn't know what to think, really. Not at all. Hers, this new bloom and burst of second prescence in her mind? She's still trying to come to grips with that.
G'nar moves forward towards the new pair of Dara and green lifemate, waving T'yari back "I'll do it..." He notes, grinning "You can't escort all the greens. Maybe you'll take that gold over there. If I do it, Davoth won't /ever/ let up on me." Greens are bad enough. He moves over the sands, smiling down at Dara "Congratulations...follow me, and we can get that little beauty something to eat."
Mechelle actually steps up a bit, but is still a few centimeters behind Kath. She gestures to Madaline's stomping around as explanation to Kath. "She's really trying to get her..You see that?"
Smoldering Inferno Gold Hatchling, with stately steps, saunters over toward the very extent of the semicircle, and begins a slow walk, tracing the shape not two meters from its edge. It is now that she takes a moment to glance over at her Dam and Sire, as if expecting some sort of acknowledgement of her decisions, or present lack thereof. Ah, but then she spies something in her peripheral vision - something wonderful. And off she goes again...
Smoldering Inferno Gold Hatchling pauses before Serriena, looking up with whirling eyes.
Whilst unrelenting heat plays about you like a hurricane of fire, and chaos runs rampant upon the Sands, a tiny seed is planted in the back of your mind. In an instant it grows to enormous proportions, slamming into your consciousness like a massive brick of cooling ice. And then, there is an image - an image of you, shuffling around on the burning Sands. << You, Serriena, look uncomfortable, >> Niaryth's sweet voice tells you. << And I, Niaryth, am starving. Come, let's get some food, and you can rest while you feed me. >>
G'nar heads over to the small niche.
Riddyn chuckles at Abalonie's bump. "Eh, perhaps... but you know I'm a sucker for a pretty girls." He winks at her, hoping perhaps this gentle teasing will help ease her vervousness somewhat.
Savrath croons softly, and nudges at her lifemate, encouraging Dara to rise once more, eyes whirling softly. They must depart with G'nar, to fetch a meal, and spend some time together!
From afar, R'kel HUGs very tight.
T'rrent, whose voice is just about hoarse from shouting so much, tries his best not to further aggravate his voice box, but can barely contain himself as each Impression takes place. Morpheth, of course, exercises far more dignified patience than that.
Lenala pages: Congratulations!
From afar, Cymber WEEPS For you.
Solonor gasps as Serriena Impresses the Gold. He is however, undable to utter any congratulations from sheer awe.
Fire-Tipped Muscle Egg has arrived.
Valdair watches, gold moving towards Serriena, and he smiles slowly, seeing the Impression take place of the young beauty. Soft whisper of congratulations passes his throat, eyes slightly widening.
Myn pages: Woohooo
Mechelle looks over at Serriena, just as Impression takes place. "Oh, Serriena! Wait until I tell the triplets about /this/!" she says almost to herself. "They'll be so proud!"
Dara blinks once, looking up at G'nar. A silent nod, and the girl gets up.. strange. She's Impressed. Why is there a glitter of tears on her cheeks?
Serriena's sudden bonding goes unnoticed -- as with her firelizard, she's lost to the sudden, deep new well of being that is Savrath. "Food.. food, yes. We'll find somewhere quiet." The girl gets to her feet, suddenly clumsy, and stumbles off the sands with her dragon. Hers. Still coming to grips with that.
Dara heads over to the small niche.
From afar, Cymber HUGS and is crying for you. :)
From afar, M'gus snugs you to death!
Katheia's jaw falls down as the gold comes closer and then looks at Serri, hurriedly Katheia shuffles a few steps away from the two, "Congratulations Serri!" Her hand is still clasping Mechelle's as the ex-healer nods at Mechelle's words, "Aye! And so wilL J'nah!"
From afar, Dara EEEEES! :D :D :D
Savrath heads over to the small niche.
Felisha watches as a certain green chooses Dara. Giving a toothy-smile, she blinks away the dust and again glances to the gold who just claimed Serriena as her own. Utterly and completely wonderful for the young woman. And so, she moves her orbs to another couple of hatched across the way. One foot is picked up from the sands, and then the other is put softly back into the tiny pebbles. The pattern continues, muscles getting quite tired from this, as evident as her appearance seems to be wilting as she isn't so intent on holding herself up nobly. Blue eyes do managed to find a few unhatched eggs and say content on them, still hoping.
Rhayna blinks for a second, then grins even brighter than all of her smiles
before. "Oh, Serri! Congratulations!" she cheers happily.
G'nar comes over from the small area reserved for weyrlings.
Katheia pages: Told you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Abalonie blushes all the way to her feet - oh, look, Serriena Impressed! Her brown-gold eyes widen and she laughs suddenly, hopping up and down as she finally calls out to her friend, "Congratulations Serriena!"
Riddyn looks up, and over... "Serriena!!" the large man bellows across the Sands; and yes, he's got quite the bellow. Hard to miss -that- particular Impression, with his eyes following the gold's movements almost since she hatched. The man just beams, grinning from ear to ear. Yes, one of his dear friends got the lovliest lady in the Clutch... the lovliest dragon-lady that is. If any were to ask him, he'd say the lovliest human was currently on his arm.
Llilian's smile widens still further as both she and Isyrath trace the golden one's path across the Sands, a soft congratulations, or something or another lost in all the noise. Ah well, time for al that later. There are every so many wonderful eggs left to go, and how in the world are two eyes supposed to take in them all?
Serriena is so busy watching Dara, she doesn't notice when the gold actually looked her way. In fact for a moment she's not sure where that voice suddenly came from. But when she realizes that suddenly a mind touched hers the look of awe on her face cannot be compared. Dark midnight eyes darken further with tears that suddenly appear from nowhere. They sweep down her face and as she gazes into the eyes of the Smoldering Inferno Gold she almost weeps. Dropping down to her golden visage she says, "I was Niaryth. I was..." She looks at the beautiful Niaryth and says, "Food.. yes." Looking up at the stands her gaze locks on her weyrmate. "Her name is Niaryth." She has to share this happiness.
Squeak. Squeak. T'yari squeaks, as he's prone to do when he's nervous enough, reentering the sands to eye G'nar. "Me? No, no, you're sure you don't want to take the gold whenever she decides?" Ah, but then she /does/ chose, and Yari obediently approaches Serriena after escorting other newly Impressed to the alcove. "Serriena." This one, Yari knows, and he awards her a brief smile. "Do you and Niaryth want to come with me?"
Long distance to Cymber: Serriena is crying so badly!
From afar, Cymber is too.
From afar, Falina gasps! Go Serri! *snuggle* Congrats!
From afar, Cymber is so happy for you.
From afar, T'yari snugs. Type 'sn'. :)
T'yari heads over to the small niche.
The brown head of a hatchling is the first to emerge from Phoenix Amidst The Flames Egg, and for a moment, there's just a egg with a head on it. The tail, haunches and wings soon are freed so that he can roam the Sands, even as a large section of shell remains on the brown's sticky body. So it is a weyrbred lad who laughingly pulls off the shell fragments after Impression as he announces, "His name is Perduath!"
Yysare practically squeaks as she watches the gold Impress, staring at the Impressee - without much recognition - in wonder. "Wow! For a moment there I was convinced that it wasn't /going/ to Impress, as you simply don't think about a gold /Impressing/, you know, when you see it...and...oh dear, there are still eggs left, but...I still won't wonder if I'll Impress. I won't."
Niaryth takes a step back to afford Serriena more room while standing, but does not take her eyes off of her new lifemate for a moment. Again, ever patient, she simply stands there, waiting for Serriena to lead her off the sweltering Sands.
Mechelle smiles happily as she hears the name. "Niaryth...a beautiful name for a beautiful dragon..." she watches them as they trail across to the other weyrlings before turning her head, at last, to the rest of the dragonets and eggs. She squeezes Kath's hand tightly. "She was right /here/!" she whispers.
Serriena follows after T'yari unable to take her gaze or her hands away from Niaryth. She follows him off the sands amidst congratulations she might later acknowledge. "Come.. there's food over here."
You step away from the Sands to a small, slightly color niche.
Sandy Niche - Ista Weyr
Contents:
T'yari
Savrath
Dara
Pseusath
Nadeth
Aitanth
A'son
Demirth
M'gus
Z'ed
Travanth
Sirrala
Obvious exits:
Tunnel Sands
Aitanth glances down at his untidily bulging belly, his face a comical study before he buries it with an utter lack of dignity into A'son's middle. Feeling better, indeed!
Niaryth comes over from the heat of the Sands.
Niaryth has arrived.
Dragon> Niaryth bespeaks you with << I appreciate your assistance, Serri - this place is new to me, and I don't think I would have found it on my own. >>
Llilian pages: Congrats, sweetie.
Long distance to Llilian: Serriena tries to type around tears. Thank you! :)
"There's food over there, in buckets," T'yari tells Serriena once off the Sands, hesitating a minute to give his feet a brief respite from the heat before venturing back onto the heated hatching grounds. "You can get Niaryth fed -- and oiled, if there's time." He offers the pair a smile. "Congratulations, too." And then he's gone.
T'yari heads back over to the Sands at large.
From afar, Llilian smiles, "You're quite welcome, but a gold is nothing without a good lifemate, so thank yoU!"
A'son laughs softly, "Water? You like water? I caught a sense of that when you and first met." he nods, "It'll be a while until you can play in the water, I think you've got to grow some before I can take you to the waterfall pool." He says to the young bronze. "How's your hide feeling, Aitanth?" he blinks again, looking to Serriena. "Serriena! You Impressed Gold!" he exclaims happily.
Cymber pages: She did. She did!" Nope. Excitement is going to take forever to fade from the well-endowed breast of Cymber. She isn't done with J'nah yet, either. Arm reaches out to wrap around his waist and she pulls him close -- a friend as well, certainly and not a stranger. Beaming, glowing -- the beautiful woman is made absolutely incandescent with luminous joy for Serriena. And there it is. Too much more excitement. She slides around and starts embracing that poor, suffering bluerider again. And this time, for good measure. She tosses in a kiss.. peeling away to a ripple of lush laughter that comes close -- very close to expressing her immeasurable happiness.
Z'ed has given up his fight with sleep and now also slumbers beside his lovely brown lifemate.
Aitanth gives A'son this... look... this I-can't-believe-you-asked-that look. Even as his lids start to droop, even as he begins to look weary, he manages to retain that regal bearing, that expression of good-natured wryness as he looks upon his lifemate.
Serriena comes over to the small niche. She leads with her Niaryth still half weeping and trying to contain it. Such a female mind to touch hers. "Your welcome Niaryth." Serriena turns. "I'll always help you." This is promised as she moves over half hearing T'yari and then moving over to get the food in the buckets because Niaryth is hungry. "Here love," Somehow beneath all that she manages to hold out a shaking hand to Niaryth to be fed the meat.
While in mid-stroke, M'gus sees the familliar face of Serriena--and then, the gold dragonet which follows her. "Ohh...Serri...congrautlations Serri! And what is the name of that beutiful little queen?" M'gus is enwrapped in happiness, today has been so exilerating. "Ohh, come on Psuesath, you can't be -that- tired. You remind me of Madaline." M'gus says with a chuckle, before looking down to his brazen life-mate. "Ohhh, I'll tell you later. Just rest."
Long distance to R'kel: Serriena hugs you tight and is crying so hard right now
From afar, R'kel holds ya' tight. "You earned it!" :)
Long distance to R'kel: Serriena holds you tight and weeps!
Savrath croons softly, and leans forth, bumping her blunted muzzle against Dara once more, tail swaying to and fro, immense hunger prevalent in her gaze, as seen by the slightest tendrils of urgeant crimson. How hungry she is!
A'son gives Aitanth a rueful look. "Aitanth!" he exclaims, laughing out loud at the bronze. "You're not supposed to think about that now!" he spies a look at Niaryth before grinning wide at his bronze. "She -is- beautiful thought..."
Aitanth has left.
A'son calls Aitanth closer to him.
From afar, R'kel beams, again. "Congratulations, Serri!"
Aitanth has arrived.
A'son dropped Aitanth.
With a grandiose sweeping path, Niaryth circumnavigates Serriena, finally coming to a stop, and sitting down gracefully, directly in front of her. She cranes out her tiny golden neck to take the bits of meat from Serriena, eating them as carefully as she can, given her ravenous appetite.
Serriena feeds those bits to Niaryth as calmly as she'll take them. She reaches out to caress the golden muzzle of Niaryth even as she holds the bucket. With two hands busy she cannot reach out to touch her lifemate as she wants to, but that will come with the oiling.
Dragon> Niaryth bespeaks once more, her mindvoice literally colored with content, wonder, and love, << Oh, you've no idea how wonderful that tastes, Serri. I can not thank you enough. >>
Demirth and Zae are quite the pair, both dozing as all the bustle goes on around them.
Pseusath opens his lids lazilly, regarding the newly hatched queen with a slight draconic yawn. "Hmm...You really are lazy, my Pseusath. But I love you anyways." M'gus says with light laughter, the bronze fellow crooning softly to his lifemate. "Yes, that's not bad--I'm lazy too." The former hunter reluctantly admits.
And oiling Niaryth will soon require, her tiny flaxen belly already beginning to bulge somewhat as she swallows down bit after precious bit of the wonderful food given her by her newfound lifemate. She rumbles softly, just loud enough for Serriena to hear, jeweled eyes whirling with delight.
Sirrala is plain tickered out, she and Cymlith nestled together and soundly sleeping.
G'nar comes over from the heat of the Sands.
Gaieth comes over from the heat of the Sands.
Serriena feeds those bits. "You are welcome Niaryth." Serriena is unable to believe this even as her midnight blue eyes pore over her once more. She empties the bucket of meat into Niaryth's hungry mouth, unable to believe too, that such a tiny dragon could eat so much. But soon it is time for oiling. She moves to get a bucket of oil knowing how to do this from helping J'nah wash and oil Myrdith.
G'nar brings in the new bluerider and his lifemate, leaving them to get food after pointing out the bin - he then disappears again.
G'nar heads back over to the Sands at large.
A'son grins at Aitanth. "I told you. We can see the water -later-." He watches as the bronze's eyes begin to droop. The new weyrling moves close to him as he leans against the bronze sleepily.
From afar, A'son grins. "Congratulations. You deserved her." :)
Niaryth can do nothing but creel in mirth as Serriena produces the oil bucket and paddle. More than willing to assist in the process, she slowly lays her meat-laden self down upon the ground, stretching out to give Serriena better access to her Sand-dried hide.
Gretchen is already asleep, the jar of oil she was using to slather Nadeth still curled within her fingers. Chest rises and falls slowly, indicating that sleep. Nadeth, meanwhile, slumbers in an equally peaceful way underneath his dame, tail curled around her waist possessively. His.
Dragon> Niaryth bespeaks you with << Oh, you read my mind, Serri dear. Thank you. It's worst just behind my wings, most of all. It's dreadfully uncomfortable. Please help me? And I've an itch on the top of my head as well that I can't seem to reach. Would you scratch that for me? >>
Serriena laughs, for the first time laughter breaks through the weeping, because of Niaryth's willingness to be oiled. "Oh shards you'll end up your mother yet wanting to be oiled all the time," Serriena dips her hands into the oil bucket and slowly begins to caress the golden hide of Niaryth spreading the oil with care. She nods. "I will take care of your itches." First her wings are taken care of and then her head as she indicates.
Long distance to A'son: Serriena grins :)
Demirth's tail is wrapped protectively around Z'ed, but his lifemate as well as himself are obilivious to the fact as they snooze together. Demirth's dark hide is glistening, well oiled and vibrant with the meal he just had.
A'son yawns, "Sleep now. Water later." he says to his bronze sleepily.
Niaryth stretches her lithe golden body to the very extent of its girth, relaxing completely under Serriena's gentle ministrations. Soft croons, one after another, issue forth from her golden muzzle at each application of the hide-softening oil.
Dragon> Niaryth bespeaks you with << That's the spot. Perfect. Oh, thank you. There's one more at the base of my tail... Just over there. You're quite wonderful at this, have I told you that? >>
Fast, fast asleep is Pseusath, along with his lifemate M'gus. Not quite as asleep, but resting peacefully with the dapper brazen fellow beside him. "Such a long day...an amazing day."
A'son yawns again, nodding to Pseusath's lifemate. "You got that right, M'gus."
Serriena laughs. "No but if you keep sweet talking me you'll turn me into a loving servant rather than a lifemate." Not that Serriena isn't already plotting to go to the ends of Pern for Niaryth should she so wish it. Well of course practicality sets in. She couldn't really do that, not easily. But her hands move to the base of her golden tail to massage more of the oil into the drying hide so that its moist and doesn't crack.
It isn't long before Niaryth, full of freshly cut meat, and slathered in a coating of that wonderful oil, takes it upon herself to relax fully at her lifemate's feet. Her faceted eyes lid shut ever so slowly, and her soft croons fade softer still, until nothing remains but quieted breathing as she slips off to silent slumber.
T'yari comes over from the heat of the Sands.
Abalonie comes over from the heat of the Sands.
Agent Smith pages: Promise me you'll do your best, and have fun. :)
Xanaeth comes over from the heat of the Sands.
Serriena continues to stroke Niaryth, watching her sleep and oiling bits she may have missed while she was still awake. But mostly her soft oil soaked hands caress her in wonderment.
G'nar comes over from the heat of the Sands.
Long distance to Agent Smith: Serriena cries and hugs you so hard. I promise.... I cannot wait to begin working with you guys!
Alyssa comes over from the heat of the Sands.
R'kel comes over from the heat of the Sands.
Agent Smith pages: Well, before you get to the low down nitty gritty stuff, you've still got some RP to do, at least. Weyrling training and all that. The work is great, but it's nothing if you're not having fun. Keep that in mind, hmm? :)
Abalonie should breathe. Abruptly, she takes in a long, heavy breath and works to getting some food into her sweet little Xanaeth.
Long distance to Agent Smith: Serriena nods.. :) I know.
"There's food over there, in the buckets," T'yari tells Abalonie once they're all inside the niche. "You can go ahead and get Xanaeth fed -- she's probably starving."
You call Niaryth over to you.
Niaryth just looked at you.
Agent Smith pages: I build one dragon per hatching. I built Kassandra's, I built Falina's, and I built yours. I really hope you enjoy her. :)
Long distance to Agent Smith: Serriena does already.. :)
Xanaeth waits with adoring patience for her Abalonie, eyes never leaving her for even a moment. She is the center of this little green's universe, and to be admired, you know.
From afar, Agent Smith grins and hugs again. "And this doesn't mean you get to stop learning to code.." ;)
Z'ed is asleep beside his new lifemate.
Long distance to Agent Smith: Serriena won't .. Mary poppins! I love Mary Poppins!(For those who haven't seen Niaryth's page - she is based on Mary Poppins)
Alyssa picks her way along, thin-soled shoes given a slight frown as she keeps her skirts up off the sandy floor as best she can. "Quite a motley bunch," she comments under her breath, apparently toward R'kel but who knows.
Abalonie just nods her head rather vaguely to T'yari in gratitude, going to the buckets and making sure Xanaeth is right next to her, not wanting to get parted from her lifemate for a second. She finds a place to sit down with the food, then begins to feed her, saying, softly, "Here you go, Xanaeth.. this will help.."
Sirrala is quiet neat and tidy, curled up with Cymlith. Well, she had been neat and tidy once.
Gretchen *was* asleep. Certainly. How could she *not* be? But, for some reason, she suddenly sits up, bleary-eyed and foggy-looking, and sweeps her sleepy gaze around the room. "The floor's hard," she mumbles, before laying her head down atop Nadeth's belly again. A heavy sigh, and the brown's tail tightens around her waist. Still his.
A'son yawns again, looking up at Alyssa. He salutes crisply despite his sleepiness. The weyrling watches his bronze happily. "No worries, Aitanth. You'll have a nice place to sleep where we're going."
M'gus is for once, dreadfully quiet, perhaps even sleeping lightly? Even now, the contented man is smiling, hands enwrapped around the brazen hide if his Pseusath. With a slight yawn, both lifemates wake up. "Sleep...yeahh...I think we both can go for some sleep." M'gus murmers out, Psuesath crooning in agreement.
Serriena continues to stroke Niaryth even as she sleeps on the ground. Serriena herself is feeling the pull of tiredness but when Alyssa comes in she looks up to smile at the Weyrwoman. "We may have to move soon dear," she whispers to Niaryth. After all there's possibly a couch to be slept upon.
R'kel follows after Alyssa, though not quite so gracefully, or, stealthily. A smile is seated upon his lips, as he swings his gaze across the group of weyrlings, and leans closer towards the Weyrwoman. "Indeed. I don't know quite a few of these ones..." He pulls back again, and seeks out his sister, or, Serriena. Neither of which he can spot, quite yet, with the bustle.
Alyssa's salutes are a little lazy. Well, a lot lazy, but at least she makes the effort. Looking amused, she picks some place slightly out of the way and watches for a somnolent moment, apparently just PLEASED AS PIE about the whole thing.
T'yari scoots towards G'nar, inconspiciously reaching over to poke at the brownrider. "I'm not talking," he informs quite firmly. "If we have to talk to everyone, you're going to do it. Not me. Got it?" Shyness is not so easy to get over. The Weyrwoman and 'second are spied and awarded a brief smile, too.
From afar, Agent Smith grins. "I'm glad you like her. If you've any questions on her temper or voice, feel free to ask, though it's really just a template you get to work from. You can play her however you like - she is yours, after all."
Gretchen is still sleeping, see, or else she'd salute along with her fellows. Another bit of mumbling, though this bit's incoherent, and she heaves a sigh of her own. Can't get any better then this.
G'nar rolls his eyes at T'yari. "Sure...you'll depend on me when it saves you," he murmurs "And avoid me the rest of the time." He surveys the weyrlings, then nods to Alyssa and R'kel "Anything to say, Weyrwoman? Weyrsecond?" is asked politely.
Z'ed wakes up as another Weyrling reaches over and puts his arm on his shoulder, "Wha?" He says, looking around, eyes still groggy. Demirth remains asleep, his head in Z'ed's lap, and his tail wrapped around his chosen one.
R'kel trails just behind Alyssa, brow raised, as he scans across the gathered Weyrlings. "Not just motley," He observes softly, "but extremely lazy, as well." He waves a hand across the group, of which, it seems a huge handful have fallen asleep, or, are on the verge of doing so. Aren't they in for a pleasant surprise! If they think *this* is tired... Wait until over a turn of Weyrlinghood, with a growing dragon. T'yari and G'nar are offered a quick nod, before he glances upon Alyssa, motioning for her to speak up first, if she wishes to.
Hands folding to a tidy clasp before her, Alyssa smiles rather benignly and tells G'nar, "Nothing that can't wait until after a good night's rest, I suppose. Except congratulations, and welcome to the Istan Wings." She sweeps a tidy curtsey that ends with a smirk at R'kel's commentary and a gesture for him to proceed at will.
Most certainly T'yari will. He makes a face at the brownrider, rolling his own eyes back before responding, "It's not /my/ fault that I never see you. I don't avoid people." This is, of course, a blatant bending of the truth. "Yeah. You guys can always talk," he mentions hopefully. Anything to get Yari off the hook.
Abalonie smiles at Xanaeth and shakes her head as she offers her some more, "I'm glad you like it, love. I would if I could, but I can't. It would make me sick if I ate it. Our tummies are different.." As if to puncuate, she touches the green's stomach lightly, offers her another smile, and goes to get another piece of meat for her.
Serriena raises to her feet. Dignity demands she do that, and so does a gentle remind from Niaryth who wakes with that gentle whisper. Serriena salutes Alyssa, R'kel and T'rrent. Both stand at attention, the blond saluting, the gold blinking sleepily. She woke for this?
Xanaeth ohs, well, that's what the look on her face might intimate, as Abalonie touches her rapidly filling tummy. it doesn't look so different, see? And there goes a red-dripping muzzle right into soft white, though she'd never so much as consider touching hard enough to knock her beloved darling one over.
Sirrala's eyes open a crack, where did all these people come from? A few more blinks as she stares about her before she hastily stands and straightens out her rope as best as she can. Only then does she salute.
R'kel chuckles a bit, and glances from Alyssa, over towards T'yari. "Well... You all need sleep. Tomorrow is the firsy busy day of many," He proclaims brightly, flashing a wink. "Anyway, congratulations, and listen to your Weyrlingmasters." Again, he winks, and it seems, that's all he has to say on the matter. Noticing the flood of salutes, he breaks into appreciative laughter, and waves a hand in a dismissive gesture.
G'nar nods to Alyssa, then looks back over the weyrlings, frowning at a bluerider who still sits sleepily by his lifemate. "On your feet!" He says firmly, before raising his voice slightly - "Congratulations to you all for impressing. I am G'nar, and this is T'yari" He indicates the greenrider by his side "In case you haven't met us before." He notes. "We are two of your weyrlingmasters....Belena, the head weyrlingmaster, can't be here for...various reasons" He grins. "So you have to put up with us for now. First off, are all your lifemates fed?"
Abalonie wrinkles her nose a little at the blood on her robe, but then smiles again, not really minding. She gently runs her palm over Xanaeth's head and the back of her neck as she makes sure that rapidly filling tummy is rapidly filled.
M'gus nods affirmitively to G'nar. "Sure is the day is long, Pseusath is fead and oiled. He is rather sleepy though, Assistant Weyrlingmaster G'nar. Would it be much to ask if we could get some sleep time in?" Already, M'gus is thinking more and more like his lifemate--why work, when one can rest.
T'yari is going to hurt people if they start saluting him, really. Being a center of attention is bad enough. But, for the moment, he only smiles faintly -- nervously -- at the assembled weyrlings and takes a small step back. Maybe he'll be able to hide behind G'nar if he's lucky.
Z'ed nods his head, getting to his feet and nudging Demirth awake.
A'son nods again to G'nar, grinning to R'kel and Alyssa before looking to Aitanth as he awakes. "I think we're getting ready to go the barracks. No...not the water." he grins to the bronze before standing. "When do we leave for the Barracks, sir?" Aitanth gives him a rather stern look. A'son merely wrinkles his nose. "I -said- sir, Ait."
Abalonie gets to her feet after a moment, realizing she probably should, but is very, very careful about not hitting Xanaeth as she stands up, and making sure the green's had enough to eat. Fuss, fuss, fuss.
Demirth rises to his feet, once again yawning widely. "De says he is only tired, G'nar." Z'ed says respectfully.
Long distance to Agent Smith: Serriena will continue to code. :) I've already learned how to read it *somewhat* It's writing it that I get confused.
Gretchen lifts her gaze to G'nar - apparently she hadn't gone back to sleep, afterall - and blinks once. "Yes, sir. Nadeth's...asleep." Right. One slender hand carresses down brown hide before she straightens to a sitting position, and gets to her feet. Slowly. "Come, dearling. To your paws, now." And, after a moment or two of rumbling, Nadeth does so, tail curling 'round his dame's ankles. "Are we moving somewhere?" Dazed. Still.
Agent Smith pages: Well, I'll be here if you need any assistance. :)
G'nar just laughs softly at all these pewling requests for `rest'. Truly amusing. "You think this was bad? And you are all tired? Well...there's more of that for you. As Weyrlings, you will learn the meaning of exhaustion." He steps aside as T'yari tries to hide behind him. "But your lifemates are another story. They will get all the rest they need, and grow because of it. Your job is to make sure they are fed when they want to be fed, oiled when they itch, bathe them when they are dirty, and make sure their couches and the barracks are kept clean." He's almost enjoying this, he is. Okay, he's totally enjoying it. "And when you've finished that, there will be other chores for you to do." He looks at each Weyrling in turn, then relents slightly. "But for now, we'll find them their new homes, shall we? It's through there." He points to the tunnel...."Well? What are you waiting for? There's more food and oil in there for thosed who aren't finished."
Xanaeth rises as her Abalonie does, making sure to stay close, resting against her side. She is sleepy after all. Good food that was. And she's sure more to come. But not just yet. She's full now, and wants only her lifemate.
Alyssa smiles over at G'nar lightly then, without another word, sweeps from the Sands looking QUITE pleased with life.
Alyssa heads back over to the Sands at large.
T'yari scowls briefly at G'nar as his shelter leaves him exposed. Bad G'nar. Bad. "You'll probably need to all oil your lifemates sometime soon, too, if you already haven't," he mentions, speaking up for once.
Xanaeth has left.
Abalonie calls Xanaeth closer to her.
Z'ed nudges Demirth towards the tunnel, following behind his tired lifemate.
Demirth slips into a tunnel beneath the galleries and disappears out of sight.
Demirth has left.
Z'ed slips into a tunnel beneath the galleries and disappears out of sight.
Gretchen calls Nadeth closer to her.
Serriena has oiled Niaryth and she looks quite pleased to be going to bed. That's where she was in the first place before she had to get up and move. She snorts and moves off into the barracks with Serriena.
Gretchen slips into a tunnel beneath the galleries and disappears out of sight.
M'gus calls Pseusath closer to him.
M'gus slips into a tunnel beneath the galleries and disappears out of sight.
Sirrala slips into a tunnel beneath the galleries and disappears out of sight.
A'son heads back over to the Sands at large.
You follow the long curve of the tunnel beneath the galleries to emerge in the weyrling barracks.
Weyrling Barracks - Ista Weyr(#57RAJ$)
G'nar follows the weyrlings, making sure they all make it. "Find yourself a couch, and make your lifemate comfortable. Feed them if they still are hungry, and oil them if they itch. A cracking hide is the worst form of neglect. If I see any signs of such, you'll have extra chores for a seven day." He calls out.
A'son grins at Aitanth. "Yes, that's true. We'd never neglect -anything-, Sir." he offers to G'nar.
Z'ed goes over to find a couch that will suit Demirth's growing form. The young brown crawls up onto the couch, yawning once more before closing his eyes and drifting back to sleep.
Abalonie blinks at Xanaeth, then shrugs her shoulders a little as she wanders about to find a nice couch, preferably in the corner, as she replies in a sort of detached manner, "I don't know, love. Maybe he was born that way." Oo. There's a couch! Yay.
Belena comes in beneath the wide archway from the bowl.
Following behind Niaryth, Serriena watches as the gold moves first from one couch, then to another inspecting each carefully as if trying to select the best one. When she finds one, it's a bit empty but bigger than the rest in the room. "Well I suppose we can decorate it," Serriena says as Niaryth curls up on the couch. Just before the three eyelids close she says, "Well no I don't have a bag full of items to put up over night but we'll make this a temporary home over time."
Aiareth comes in beneath the wide archway from the bowl.
M'gus follows the instructions given to him, wandering off with Pseusath in tow to find himself a couch. "Ahh, this'll suffice eh Pseusath?" Helping the bronze atop the couch is easy work, the man falling down beside his lifemate happilly. Rest time, yes. Good quality, rest time.
Long distance to Llilian: Serrienagrins! My egg fit perfectly with the hatchling ideas!
Long distance to Llilian: Serriena hugs you tight. :)
From afar, Llilian heehees and hugs, "Yes it did. And congrats again on impressing. I hope the wait was finally worth it. I know how long it's been for you."
Belena dashes into the weyrling barracks followed by the easy padding of her lifemate. A quick glance is sent back in Aiareth's direction accompanied by a scowl and then her green eyes widen and scan about the barracks. Holding her head in her hands, "By Faranth's first egg. Look at you all!"
Long distance to Llilian: Serrienanods and hugs. I was telling AS. I cannot wait to begin working with you guys.
Long distance to Llilian: Serriena laughs..he told me to enjoy weyrlinghood first..which I will but I'll be so proud to work with you and Alyssa.
From afar, Llilian laughs, "That will come, sweetie. For now, enjoy being a weyrling, and getting to know Niaryth."
Long distance to Llilian: Serriena nods.. I love Mary Poppins
From afar, Llilian laughs! "I was typing that just as you paged that."
"Eep." No, no, not Belena. At least, not a proddy Belena. T'yari does not want to be around, let it be known. With fingers twisting in a gesture of nervousness and wariness, the greenrider eyes the Weyrlingmaster suspiciously and inches back a few steps.
Abalonie looks up from Xanaeth as she hears Belena's voice, the dreamy appearance in her eyes disappearing for a moment as she smiles at her and raises one hand in a wave. Mm. Sleepy. She curls up with Xanaeth on their newfound couch, the small girl's head resting lightly on the curled about neck of her green.
M'gus arches a brow lazily, trying to fight the urging sleep. Even his Psuesath croons, semi-annoyed that he could be awakened from his slumber. "Evening..I believe it is, Weyrlingmaster. How are you?" M'gus asks in a humble tone, trying to force out a smile. Apparently, he's to tired.
Serriena moves from Niaryth. She will not be wakened. Not now that she has a comfortable couch to rest upon. "Good evening Belena." She salutes the weyrlingmaster even as the dainty lady behind her slumbers on.
G'nar looks over at Belena as she comes in, grinning "About time..." he notes, but with amusement. "I've got them settled..it's up to you to do the rest." He notes to the Weyrlingmaster "I'm in need of some sustenance and drink after those hot sands." He looks at the candidates again "They probably could too, once their lifemates are settled."
"Weyrling master" Z'ed says respectfully, sliding off the couch that Demirth has chosen and yawning as he watches the Weyrling master and her assistants.
Belena shakes that red covered head for a moment, trying to clear her thoughts. Another dark look is sent to a very non-glowy but still shining in the aftermath green. She finally gives up the argument and turns her frowning face to her assistants, "Thank you, I think. And T'yari, you can calm down. We're fine." She nods her head at all of the salutes and greetings and seems not quite sure what to do next. "Yes. Well, if you're all settled and your lifemates are sleeping, please go and get something to drink. I'm sure you're all exhausted." A smile creeps into her features as she really starts to see the faces of those who are now her weyrlings, "Congratulations, all of you."
G'nar already gave his congratulations..he isn't goign to do it again. Instead he ignores the weyrlings and heads for the exit "Coming, T'yari?" he calls back, with a wink to Belena. "Enjoy yourself." Babysitting is soooo fun.
G'nar heads out beneath the arched exit to the bowl.
T'yari can? Eventually, he relaxes somewhat after conferring with his lifemate to make sure that Belena really isn't proddy anymore, and just gives Belena a rather sheepish smile, muttering, "Sorry." Attention turns to G'nar, then, and after a small hesitation he nods -- "Coming!" The Sands are hot, after all.
T'yari heads out beneath the arched exit to the bowl.
M'gus continues to yawn, however, after a brief bout of it--both he and Pseusath rouse out of it. "Hmm...hungry again? No...Tired? Nooo....Itchy?" And with that, M'gus hit the mark! A pat of oil is grabbed and the oil carefully caressed into the brazen hide of his lifemate. "Ahha, that's better. Hmmm, keep oiling--I know."
Yysare heads out beneath the arched exit to the bowl.
Belena chuckles, finally getting into the swing of things, "M'gus, you'll get used to it, I assure you. Pretty soon you won't even have to ask. Although I dare say for a while it might be odd trying to figure out if it's you that is hungry or him."
Serriena listens to all quietly and content. She is quiet, unlike her chatty self but that's probably because she is tired along with Niaryth who is curled sweetly on her couch practically perfect in every way.
"I'm always hungry though, Belena! I mean, I ate a whole platter of wherry, tubers, and two bubblies before the hatching...and, the...I got that feeling of being hungry again. It mighta been Pseusath o'course. But..." M'gus is rambling, yet he continues to rub the oil in.
Abalonie isn't just awake and listening as her own lifemate is curled up on the couch. She is curled up with her lifemate, legs over the round of the green's tail as her head rests lightly on the green's bent neck. Zzz..
Belena rolls her eyes at the new bronzerider, "You make me afraid. Although I'll make a guess that you'll be saving your breakfast for after the dawn runs. You all may sleep tomorrow but after that, it's up bright and early for each and every one of you."
M'gus grins again, almost beaming at Belena. "Sleep, now that's good stuff Weyrlingmaster. And..I usually wake up early. I get the feely Pseusath won't be getting up without some urging." The weyrling mumbles out, gently patting the newly-oiled bronze hide.
Long distance to R'kel: Serriena snugs you good night! :)
From afar, R'kel SNUGs! "Congratulations, again!!"
Long distance to R'kel: Serriena notes you're very evil.. :)
Long distance to R'kel: Serriena snugs you tight.. thank you so much!
R'kel pages: Oh, am I?
From afar, R'kel adjusts his halo, and hugs in return. "No problem." ;)
Long distance to R'kel: Serriena nods.... you're good at saying nothing! :) but then so am I I did the the same to Amitae when she got the gold on Skies Above
From afar, R'kel kept his lips sealed! Yup! And I'm *proud* of it! ;)
Long distance to R'kel: Serriena hugs you tight!
*** You slip back into reality. ***
*** Threadfall MUSH has disconnected. ***