There's a rush of air as C'daer and the weyrlingmaster team charge into the barracks. He bellows. "Candidates!"
Osasune sits up in her cot, rubbing her eyes and blinking blearily. "Whassa?" she mumbles.
Eonwar promptly rolls over, falling off of his cot to land on the floor with a THUMP! Shaken from a sound sleep of a nap, which he shouldn't have been taking anyway, he groans and peels himself off the floor. "This better be good..." he gruffs.
Andariel is not far behind C'daer, ushering a couple of acndidates that she'd found on the way into the barracks and remaining near the door, silent for the moment.
In honour of the impending hatching, Ilesyn has deposited herself within the barracks, settled upon her cot. C'daer's bellow results in a slowly lifted head, eyebrows rising towards her hairline. "I guess that's it, then." Calmly, and entirely rationally, she rises to her feet, gaze concentrating not upon what she's doing - but on the reactions of the candidates around her.
On the floor, beside her cot, Gretta's sprawled out with that beginner's drum she made and three jars of paint. In her hand's a paintbrush, and on the drum's top is a dark fancy blue 'G'. Startled by C'daer's bellow, paintdrops splatter everywhere, and she mutters something, then peers curiously at the bronzerider and goldrider.
Kaysera just finished tying her hair back as C'daer and the weyrlingmaster team rushes in. She doesn't seem really alarmed or concerned at all, just sits silently and listens for what is so important.
Oh dear Faranth. Cyndalia throws a pillow in the general direction of C'daer and the storming weyrlingmaster team, "People are tryin' ta sleep!" Never-the-less she sits up in bed, rubbing at her eyes, and glancing around at the melee about her. It takes a moment to put one and two together. "Oh." A roll of the eyes, and she slips out of bed, looking for the robe. "Hey." Uh. "Anyone seen my robe?"
Kyer is tired. But only slightly so. And the robe she'd finished sewing, washing and then drying early this morning was currently folded neatly atop her trunk at the end of her cot. The Candidate herself was sitting on the edge of her bed, attempting to dry her still damp hair with a towel while simultaneously stifling a yawn. All of which is put on hold while she casts a glance towards C'daer at his entrance. She's slow and sloppy.. as salute is forgotten and she just glances at him and the other Riders in slight confusion.
Tarrant jerks to a stand from where he was sitting on his cot, inspecting his robe with a small sense of accomplishment. An inquiring eyebrow also jerks upwards, though his face remains placid. Andariel /and/ C'daer together at once? He reaches down to grab up his robe, just in case.
C'daer's excited laugh cuts through the chatter in the barracks. "It's time, into your robes! No jewelry, where's your sandals - Miake! Go help that kid - Cyndalia! Get your robe on!" C'daer? Nervous? Hm.
Osasune blinks, squinting over at Ilesyn. "What's it? You don't mean? OH!" She scrambles out of her sheets, nearly tripping as she gets off the cot and hurries about to her press, bumping into another Candidate. "Sorry!" they chorus together.
Tilimania is sitting quietly with a few leaves of different plants in front of her. Or she was. As C'daer enters Tilly stands up and stuffs the leaves quickly back into her cot. "Ummm.. Oh?" Tilly mouth forms an o as she starts to dig around her cot for something or other. "Robe... Robe?" Said item is pulled out in a hurry.
Andariel smiles round the room, watching candidates begin to move. "The dragons are thrumming which can only mean one thing. Robe time. C'mon people step lively."
G'thon follows behind C'daer and Andariel, looking rather calm about this whole business. A faint smile tilts the corners of his mouth as he stands there stolidly by the door, watching candidates scramble.
Eonwar wipes futilely at the drool that has dried into flakes upon his right cheek and squints at C'daer for a long moment before it all sinks in. He grunts, masking his nervousness quite well as he bends over and grabs the robe which he's been hiding beneath his pillow, lest another 'borrow' it. "I guess that's good enough," he mutters as he strips down and slides into the bag of cloth.
Ilesyn's gaze shifts, as if she's picked up C'daer's mood - her eyes stay there, watching thoughtfully, until Osa's comment draws it back. "Yes. I would say so. No need to rush, though. Not too much." She's far more laid back, stripping easily, pulling her robe over her head, and replacing boots with sandals - without taking off her socks.
Kaysera scratches the top of her head as C'daer gives the alert. She stands, apparently not in any hurry and gathers her robe from where she'd been keeping it, slipping it over her head, she slips her bare-feet into the plain sandals and waits for further instruction.
Sarine nods at C'daer, for some reason she seems surprised that it's time even though the Weyr has been anticipating this very thing. She finds her robe and sets it aside as she pulls back her hair. That done she grabs up the robe again to change into.
Cyndalia smirks over in C'daer's direction. He's like a first time mother. She mphs softly at him, rolling her eyes, and slowly begins discarding her clothes, slipping into her robe. No hurry involved, and she doesn't appear nervous at all, though it takes some pulling and wiggling to get the damn tight thing over her boyish hips. "Found it." Not like she could be heard above the racket.
Gretta's jaw drops in surprise. "Oh! Robe!" Leaving behind her paint jars and drum, paintbrush laid carelessly on the floor, she rummages around her things until she finds her robe. Disregarding modesty, she's quick to shuck off her clothing and yank on that rumpled robe. Boots come off, but her frenzied pace is slowed by her sandal's laces.
Kyer's brows furrow ever so slightly before she catches the drift of what was happening. And it doesn't take long for her to react. Towel is abandoned atop her cot as she pads barefooted to the end of her cot, fingers deftly snatching the robe from it's resting place before she's hugging it to her chest and crossing back towards her cot. Robe is slid atop her clothes before she's shrugging out of her clothes with the cover of the robe, clothes that are dropped in a heap at her feet before she's grabbing a comb and pulling her dampened hair into a runners-tail. "Anyone seen Tilly?" Yes it crosses her mind to ask that as she casts a glance around, before she's back at her trunk and withdrawing old, worn sandles from within.
Ah-HA! Finally time! Tarrant takes a long, deep breath to steady himself, and then quickly pulls off his knot and shirt, to settle the robe over his head. Plop! onto the bunk, and he's shimmying out of pants, quickly tossing all his garments onto the bed. Boots and socks are last off - placed under the cot as he dons his thick sandals and ties them around his ankles. A quick check as he stands, and ties the belt - and then quickly remembers something and moves over to his press - opened and closed quickly.
Tilimania quickly, with much effort and twice falling on her can, gets on her candidate robe. "Sandels." Trip. Tilly finds them the hard way. She glares at them and starts to grumble at them but no time. This time she doesn't get up, she just settles in and pulls on her sandels and fastens them sercurily to her feet. "I'm right here Kye!" Tilly offers from the floor.
C'daer's hands are here, there, fidgeting everywhere, waving and gesturing and clutching at his hair. He lifts his voice in another bellow, "Line up double, here!" He points to where Andariel stands.
Andariel moves to help one of the girls tie back her long hair, working quickly as she encourages the girl to move as fast as possible. Satisfied Andi moves back to form the beginning of a line near the exit.
Eonwar drops heavily onto his cot as he flicks his sandals out from under his bed, finding that Tadi's gone and gnawed upon the laces. Muttering under his breath in what sounds like irritation, but is more likely his usual surly gruffness, he pulls them on anyways and laces them up as tightly as he dares. "Robe, sandals..." he murmurs to himself, trying to shut out the chaos around himself as he then reaches for a thong to pull back his unruly hair with. Maybe someone should mention that he cross his legs in that thing...
Ilesyn, her expression pleased - relieved, perhaps? - steps away from her cot, into line. Her hands are drawn comfortably by her sides, as she waits, glacing around almost expectantly, as if curious to see if anyone will step into line beside her - by choice.
Osasune wrestles herself out of her nightshirt, tossing it onto her cot. One shirtsleeve smacks the harried Candidate next to her, who squeaks. "Sorry!" they chorus at the same time. She tugs on her robe and hurredly steps into her sandals. Glance left, glance right - "Ilesyn! Your feet will be so hot!" she calls as she hurries to the line.
Sarine has her robe on finally, and brushes out any stray wrinkles she finds as she walks over to where C'daer indicates. She smiles at Andariel as she approaches the weyrwoman, and glances back at the progress of the rest of the candidates.
Tarrant restrains his sudden need to smirk, and steps forward next to the Mindhealer.
Gretta hastily finishes her lacing, then lifts her eyes to look for one certain chubby candidate. Breathing in deeply, she scampers beside Osasune and says with wide, wide eyes: "Oh gosh, Osasune. Here it comes."
Cyndalia checks to make sure the leather tie is still fastening back her hair as she wiggles in the robe. Better get this over with. She shivers slightly, bare feet against the cold stone floor, and finds the sandals, slipping them onto her calloused feet before moving towards Andariel, pausing to smirk at C'daer on the way. "You look like a first time father." More like a seventh time actually.
G'thon works his way down the line of candidates, giving them reassuring nods and making sure they're properly dressed and ready to go, and sorting out the chaos at the rear of the line. "C'mon, kids, let's get a move on, the eggs don't wait for no one."
Eonwar is still tying back his hair when he sidles up into the line, not paying attention to whom he ends up next to. He seems almost in a trance at this point... or at least trying very hard to look calm.
Tilimania fights her sandels on and stands up. Her expression is one of pure panic mixxed with excitment. She stands up from the floor, once again she almost falls over but stands up and hurries into the line.
Kaysera watches as her fellow candidates go about getting ready with a quiet smile. The time has come. She smirks and lines up as directed by C'daer, she doesn't seem to care who she stands beside, stepping up beside Lakila, offering the other girl a calm nod.
Kyer offers a grin towards Tilly as she slips her feet into her sandles, lacing them up and then giving a perfectionary pat to the top of her hair, before she's moving towards the line. Fingers pulling nervously--she shows it at last!--at her robe before she's smoothing wrinkles out from that as well before she falls still and turns her gaze straight ahead, focusing in on the Riders at the front of the room.
Osasune pulls the leather thong from her mouth and ties her hair back hurredly. "Oh, oh. Gretta! I think I'm going to pee, I'm so nervous."
Ilesyn smiles, toothily. "But my feet shan't get burnt by the hot sand," she points out, cheerful. "It stings. I'd rather have hot, smelly feet, than stinging ones." Tarrant is given a short nod.
Kaela is tugging at the hem of her robe, standing off to one side and trying not to look too nauseous. The girl is nervous, yup.
Tarrant grins back at Ilesyn. "I'll stick with thick soles, thank you." A bob of his head to Andariel and C'daer as his eyes glitter with excitement.
C'daer overhears something, and hollers, "No peeing!" He moves up the line, quick jittery steps, patting a shoulder here and giving a word of advice here - Cyndalia recieves a particularly nervous-hard squeeze as he passes her.
Cyndalia gives Gretta a rather dark look too as she's passed, and then a smile to the candidate board. "No more utility caverns" is muttered smuggly in passing as she glances back up to C'daer. The squeeze catches her by surprise and she jumps visibly before rolling her eyes. "Don't -do- that. Don't touch." And she brushes off her robes as if he might have gotten a spot on them. Probably the cleanest thing she ever wore.
Andariel smiles, moving towards the sands, pausing for a moment to call, "Ok, this is it. Follow me, and remember and bow. Good luck everyone.", and then she leaves.
Kyer manages to find Tilly amidst the others in line, and moves towards her so as to stand within close proximity. Words are given at a whisper as she offers a tense smile, "Best of luck, Tilly." And then, she's all business. Once more, that is, for as Andariel gives the command, Kyer is turning back around, ready to move when those infront of her do.
"Osasune, Cyndalia, go!" Daer calls, marking those two off and pointing.
Gretta does her best to look calm, cool -- yet the shaking knees and widened eyes give her away. "You won't," she returns confidently. Catching Cyndalia's look, she waves in mock cheer at the younger girl. "See you on the Sands, Cyndalia!"
Osasune squeaks, and nearly jumps.
Tilimania grins at Kyer. "You too Kyer." Tilly stands at attention as the golrider leaves and the first of the candidates disappear outwards.
Kaela does look like she might lose her meatrolls as the moment comes. She shifts back and forth on sandaled feet as she tries to control the nerves.
Eonwar pushes at someone who sidles up just a little too close to him in their own nervousness. "Back off! Give me some breathing space, would you? We're almost there so just settle down!"
C'daer hollers, "Kyer! Tilimania, go!" He's starting to sweat.
C'daer pauses, waiting to give the other pairs time to filter through, and points to, "Tarrant! Eonwar!"
"Kaela! Sarine! Off you go," for Daer's next two out to the sands.
Sarine nods and walks purposely towards the sands, after giving a smile towards Kaela.
Ilesyn waits, glancing expectantly at the sands, but without nervousness; she's rather calm.
C'daer draws a sweaty hand over sweatier forehead, "Ilesyn, Kaysera, go."
You head down a narrow passage to the hatching sands. As you step out onto them, the heat is immediately detectable, already uncomfortable through the soles of your boots.
Kaysera emerges from a narrow passage and walks out onto the sands.
As the sands fill with candidates, a pair of young girls, among the first to enter the sands, giggle quietly to each other, eyes fixed on the egg mound before them, fingers pointing out their favourite eggs.
Ilesyn bobs a quick bow towards Ceristh and Rasnauth as she steps onto the sands, taking her place towards one end of the semi-circle, gaze falling not towards the eggs - but towards the candidates, curious. The heat, coming through her sandals and her socks, ensures that she steps back and forth, putting weight on one foot, and then the other.
Kaysera stands silently smiling as she waits in line to salute the Sire and Dam. As she enters the doorway to the sands she smiles pleasantly, bowing to the Dam, then the Sire. She straightens and makes her way to stand next in the circle to a fellow candidate.
Stained Glass Egg
All the colors covering the smooth shell of this egg appear somewhat diluted, as though they were meant to be vibrant yet translucent - like carefully placed pieces of glass. With this effect each tincture forms its own shape, fitting into one another in an intricate puzzle. Orange is the first hue to appear, marring the top and bottom of the egg and forming two half squares, with the inner most side curved in a semi-circle manner. Against this curved edge arrives a thinner band of creamy yellow that mimics the same form as the previous tangerine shading, the only difference being that splotches of emerald green lay in the center of the yellow, placed in such a way to resemble a pointed three-leaf design. Reaching now towards the center of the egg are two strips of blue, separating each design to its own point in a wave like pattern. Following the cobalt stain, curved lines of faded crimson then aqua leave almost the exact center of the egg, to become a ghostly shade of icterus.
Osasune reaches for Gretta's hand in the circle, swallowing thickly and she waits, already shifting her considerable weight from side to side.
Kaela stumbles out onto the sands on Sarine's heels, managing to right herself before she falls and then gulping as she moves forward to make a nervous, but respectful bow to the gold and bronze on the sands, before looking for a spot as far from them as possible in the forming circle of candidates.
C'daer strides out from the sands, giving a cursory bow to dam and sire. He gestures his assistants off to cover different parts of the sands, taking a deep breath.
Andariel looks along the line of white, and with a quick smile of good luck to those near her moves over to join Jalis and J'van, offering a smile and a rather excited. "Well, here we go then."
The sounds of the galleries drift down over the sands, drawing some candidate attention away from the rapidly more agitated eggs before them.
G'thon follows the very last of the candidates out of the candidate barracks, and then executes a not very graceful but earnest bow towards Ceristh and Rasnauth before working his way around the semi-circle to take his place among the weyrlingstaff on the outer rank of the circle.
Stained Glass Egg jerks into motion without warning, clattering into the egg beside it before another sharp jerk rolls it the other direction.
Eonwar leans over as if to push at Tarrant, his expression twisting into a grimace when he thinks the hunter is getting too close to himself. "Just because we had to come out here together doesn't mean you can cling to me!" he complains, just a little more acidic than he intended, but his nerves are more than a little raw just now.
Ceristh hovers over her eggs as she warily watches each candidate walk onto her sands. Her humming changes slightly in tone, a more warning, kind of sound that is quickly altered with the soothing touch of Jalis' hand on her foreleg. "Its time Ceristh. Time to let them go. Calm yourself. It is time for them to Hatch." She reassures the broody queen.
Tarrant glances quickly from rocking egg to Eonwar, a slight frown of distaste upon his lips. With an indifferent shrug, he moves farther away.
Kyer shifts her feet in the sands ever so slightly, moving hands infront of her where sweaty palms grasp one another in a tight grip. Lip is still bent as her gaze shifts over the clutch of eggs..or those that she can see. She doesn't need to look long however, for she's quickly casting her gaze to the Candidates on either side of her, a nervous smile offered when she spots Tilly, "Ready for this, Tilly?" A mumured comment really, nothing more then a half-croaked whisper, before she's watching the eggs once more.
Tilimania nudges Kyer gently. "I'm so excited. Look at the eggs." She pauses to peer out towards the Galleries for a moment, her distraction lhaving her missing the egg's movements all together. "I can't wait! What about you?" She whispers excitedly to Kyer again.
Gretta eagerly curls her fingers around Osasune's hand, stepping over to close the distance between them. "Well," she breathes, lifting up her chin in faked confidence. Now, for now -- she's still, standing straight, though her shaking knees, they give her away.
They're moving. Oh dear. Cyndalia blinks as one of the eggs in front of her begins to rock and takes a step back, breaking the circle. She's distracted by the large crowd, and begins scanning for familiar faces. An eyebrow goes up as she spots someone, and she offers a brief nod, distracted for a moment from the heat, eggs, and giant dragons nearby.
Kaysera smiles as she peers about the semi-circle, unable to see the wiggling egg on the other side. She watches the mound with calm curiosity, the only sweat beading upon her forehead because of the heat.
Jalis turns back to J'van after soothing Ceristh's motherly anxieties and eyes him cautiously. "Cheer up J'van. You're much too glum." She says rebukingly. "Come now. Today is a happy day. We have new riders today, or will shortly."
Rasnauth doesn't seem to care anymore whether the eggs go away or not - he just maintains a soothing presence near Ceristh and a watchful eye on the candidates.
Sarine notices a shaking egg and watches it curiously, though she doen't forget to shuffle a bit to keep her feet from heating up *too* much. She doesn't seem nervous just yet, but appearances could be deceiving.
A sharp rock. Another. Two jerks and a mighty heave, and the Jeweled Flower Egg splits wide, revealing an active blue. Still-wet wings are spread wide for balance as the hatchling hops across the sands, and directly towards a green-eyed trader from Igen. Impression is a swift, seamless melding and in a moment, the child is calling out his lifemate's name.
Ilesyn flicks her attention towards the moving eggs, just for a moment, then back towards the candidates, lips moving as if she's making silent commentary to herself.
Eonwar mumbles, "Good riddance," under his breath in an irritable tone of voice as he folds his arms about himself and inspects the space on his other side with his other neighbor. The grimace does not fade, however, as he leans forward slightly, feeling his stomach twisting inside. For a man trying to keep his cool, he is failing miserably and quickly discovering that just tying back his long hair isn't enough -- he sweats buckets.
Stained Glass Egg catches the light in veins of gold, flashing as it rocks with the motion of the hatchling inside.
J'van doesn't seem cheerupable as his gaze goes over those gathered in the galleries "So you've made sure she can't even come to the hatching..." is muttered to the Weyrwoman, his expression turning even more cantankerous if anything. The candidates are ignored as he turns a brooding look on Jalis "You couldn't have made up enough for her to come?"
Tarrant ignores Eonwar for the moment, and quickly turns to search the Galleries with intense blue eyes at periodic intervals - alway remembering to watch out for eggs and dragonets in the first place.
Leathered Information Egg
Captured in the soft curves of fawn brown that envelop this egg's surface, buffed leather entreats rich promise while hiding secrets beneath burnished hues - a promise of answers to age-old questions. Gathered whorls of parchment-like bister spread as unrolled hide to pattern curious shapes, like words whose meaning is lost in sepia formations, letters curling in illuminated script from curve to curve to, touched in a trellis of burnished brass. Cavorting patterns embossed into layered caliginous shadow dart in trailing fixation, a rippled ramble of flowers and leaves expressing minute details of vein and petal in the subtle caress of auburn. Like rough hide, rounded markings suggest the lengthy touch of careful fingertips caught forever beneath a porous composition.
C'daer wipes hands down his shirt as he watches an assistant escort a new weyrling off the sands. "One more down," he murmurs, almost under his breath.
Kaela doesn't seem to be paying too much attention to the eggs or any hatchlings that might be popping out of them. Pale, she looks decidedly nervous and ill at ease - maybe even a little green.
Kyer drops her chin in a nod, her teeth flashing once more as she bites her bottom lip and does her best to keep her attention focused on the egg mound. "Well..I've no way to avoid this now," Kyer comments, casting her gaze towards Tilly as she takes a deep breath, "But yeah. Excited." Face flushed and grin rather wide, Kyer allows that comment to pass before she's releasing a damp hand to brush back strands of hair that drift into her face, "Was it always this hot out her?" Mumured comment is more rhetorical than anything else.
A squeal of mixed terror and happiness at the eggs beginning to hatch goes up from a red-haired boy who looks almost too young to be standing, quickly shushed by a rider he falls silent, staring open eyed and open mouthed at the goings on around him.
Cyndalia seems to have forgotten when it comes to paying attention to the dragons and eggs frolicking around her. She remains standing relatively still, staring up into the stands, and searching face by face, her gaze intense as if looking for someone specific. The heat rising from the sands is intent and she shades her eyes. Where....
Kaysera spies a blue movement from the othr side of the semi-circle as a candidate becomes a dragonrider. Her attention is tossed to the galleries for a moment, her family peering at her with excited pride. She nods slightly to acknowledge them, then her eyes go back to the mound.
Leathered Information Egg ripples, it's illuminated lettering bulging for a second, pushed out of shape by the struggle going on within, then falls still once more.
Eonwar turns slightly to pan the galleries with a quick look as the thought hits him that his mother might be attending. Just as quickly he turns back, remembering with a twist in his stomach that now that hatchlings are beginning to break free of their shells -- he'd very well better pay attention. His fingers dig into his sides, knuckles white against the white of his robe.
Vibrant color shudders and undulates one last time before contracting and exploding outward. Out of the shard-like and splintered ruins of what was once Stained Glass Egg, marbled bits still clinging to his form, Majestic Mahogany Brown Hatchling staggers out. Wings spread to help maintain his balance, the weak muscles of the newly hatched dragonet belie subtle grace - he stumbles, then recovers. Whirling with impatient red, the hatchling's eyes focus off to the side and then slowly track across the candidates before he takes one precise step forward.
Sarine glances over at Kaela with a concerned frown. "Are you alright?" She blinks at the cry from the boy candidate, before turning back to Kaela.
---*** Majestic Mahogany Brown Hatchling ***---
A carving of exquisite, classical work has been sculpted from the rich reddish-brown of mahogany. Sinew and muscle are flawlessly shaped over the limbs, each curve molded, sanded and defined to perfection to create the form of a sleek, strong dragon. Weathered and aged oak, still bearing a patina of rich color, melds together with cedar around the head and muzzle, creating an impression of delicate age. Subtle textures limn his shoulders and flanks in a layering of chestnuts, rose tones, ebony, and blue-brown hues, as if carefully painted to create a solid, strong, timeless brown. To compliment the darker hues, the golden-glossed color of pine decorates the belly of this dragon, stretching down along throat to the base of his tail, as well as across the span of nearly translucent wings. Burnished brightly, the gleam of honey-toned wood slowly fades along the fragile membranes as it edges down across his spine into the rest of his body.
Osasune squeezes Gretta's hand, eyes huge. She's silent and sweaty-handed, swallowing thickly every few moments.
Tilimania grins at Kyer. "Why would you want to?" Excited hush comes over Tilly for a moment as she cranes her neck to see the eggs. "Its hot but its worth it." Tilly shifts her weight form one foot to another and one side to another in the heat. Already she is looking rather sweaty.
Tarrant watches the brow explode out of his shell, and grins softly. Eonwar is now practically a memory, and his roaming eyes cease flicking to the Galleries, concentrating on the eggs and dragonets moving around.
Ilesyn's gaze shifts this way and that - but she still misses things, including the hatching of the brown. Feet shuffling, she glances down the group of candidates, clinically studying each in turn.
Renbekrah pushes up against the boy standing next to her, her face sweaty, pale and tinged slightly with green. When she sees that brown hatch, she squeals and turns around in place as if to hide from it. "I want to go hommmme!" the girl wails.
With little less than a brief hiccup visible to a watchful eye the Marquetry Rose Egg unfolds, the outer shell peeling back and spilling a creeling green onto the ground. A few wobbly attempts at standing and she finds her feet, tottering towards the line of candidates and eventually finding her pairing in the burly smith Iykir, now I'kir.
Kaysera grins as the brown hatchling emerges in all its gooey glory. She smiles toothily at the candidate next to her as she watches on as calmly as possible, footing shifting slightly to keep from over-heating her feet.
Jalis just gives J'van a little sigh. "J'van, I didn't -not- invite her. I just never rescinded my edict that she never come back." She shows regret on her face. "I'm sorry J'van. I'll go and do my best to see about patching it all up after Ceristh's able to fly." She moves to elbow the Weyrleader with her arm. "Please put on a smile." She admonishes him.
Leathered Information Egg shudders once more, a few flakes of gilded brass falling from the shell to mingle in the sands. A more violent jerk distorts the lettering once more and sends a ripple down the entire hide-like shell, before it once again pauses and stills.
Gretta bats away a frizzy curl in front of her eyes, licking her chapped lips. "There's too much to look at," she mutters to Osasune, frustrated, and settles on the section of eggs -- or dragonets -- right in front of her, which isn't much. "Has anyone we know Impressed, yet?"
Majestic Mahogany Brown Hatchling takes another step forward, the clumsiness of the newly hatched pulling at his speed and balance, taking his attention away from his pursuit for just a moment.
Eonwar surreptitiously begins rubbing at his stomach with one hand, feeling it all knotting up in there as things proceed. The grimace deepens as he turns to watch one of the eggs, tongue poking out to lick at dry lips. "Shards, this is hot work..." he mutters uselessly.
Cyndalia's corner of the sands is full of scared hatchlings and creeling candidates. Err. Scared candidates and creeling hatchlings. The messenger girl sighs as she finishes earching the last row of the galleries, apparently not finding what she wanted. She wraps her arms back about herself despite the warmth in a protecting manner and turns back to endure the sands and reality.
Andariel stands quietly, hands clasped behind her back as she keeps an excited eye on things, gaze flickering round the sands, trying to see everything, but failing.
Kyer simply mumbles once more, a grin kept from her face by the nervous pull of her lips into a thin line. "Mm.." As hands find their way into one anothers cold, dampened grasp once more, she does allow intelligble comments to pass. "Sure.. you say that now.." Teasing, she can never quit with the teasing, "Can you see much happening on this side?" Flicker of her gaze finds Tilly as she shifts her stance once more; this time in an attempt to gain a better perspective of what was happening further down the line of Candidates and eggs.
J'van continues to look brooding for a moment longer and then manages a smile, his hand dropping Weyrwoman's so he can instead sling his arm over her shoulders, leaning down to kiss her lightly "Thanks, Jalis - it would mean a lot to me..." and then he turns a devestatingly charming smile to the eggs, candidates, galleries, and..."Look, a brown. Goodlooking fellow, isn't he?" A peek up at Rasnauth brings a laugh "Someone's proud..."
Maiden of Darkness Egg
Like paper left in the sun, and bleached to a uniform shade, this egg is resplendent, an impression of peace vaguely evident within the tenuous shell. Deep, rich golden browns the hue of paint yellowed with age curl amber tendrils across apex, coiling as though hair spread upon a pillow. Russet shades the panel that encircles the circumference, interspersed with floral motifs. An outdoor setting of slender trees and tall flowers sweeps over base while pale cream, an echo of the falling folds of material, fades into the marble of perfect skin.
Osasune glances about, hopping once as she peers about the half circle of Candidates. "I'm... I'm not sure," she informs Gretta. She loooks toward the eggs again, and shivers once - though she can't possibly be cold. "I'm just trying not to get mauled!"
Ilesyn attempts to tuck a strand of her somewhat frizzy hair, the heat having done little for manageability. This failing, the candidate-Mindhealer shifts her feet again, watching the candidates - then the hatching, and eggs - and then the candidates again.
Leathered Information Egg quivers and quakes as flakes of shell sluff away, finally giving in to internal pressures and bursting in a flurry of brittle shards that drift like paper towards the heated sands. Left exposed, a small and rather shocked looking blue hatchling just stands amidst his shelter's remains for a moment, blinking in the light.
---*** Moonlit Firework Blue Hatchling ***---
Midnight seeks to enshroud crenelated blue hide from the aristocratically tilted head to the length of flagpole-like tail, a personal darkness shattered and shaken by a frenzy of shimmering cerulescent highlights that are gone almost as soon as they show themselves. Trails of brightest periwinkle flicker and dance along an elongated muzzle only to explode in brilliant, shimmering sapphire coronas across night-bedecked headknobs - finally being consumed by enveloping indigo along stately torso and imperious limbs, vanishing completely before daring to assault the rocky reaches of craggy igneous talons. Showers of chaotic cobalt sparks explode along stygian-ensnared wingspars to pour over translucent wingsails, an oddly placed waterfall of azure's desiring so bright as to almost be blinding.
Tarrant can't resist one glance back up at those Galleries, but quickly swivels his head back around to see the bvlue emerge from his egg.
Kaela blinks as she looks up finally and sees....dragons. Little ones to be sure, but still. She takes a step back and to the side, hiding behind a larger candidate. Maybe if they don't see her, right?
Jalis seems to be in a better mood, now that J'van is -- his attitude giving her much encouragement. "Yes, and ooh!" She gestures at a new hatchling. "Look at that blue!" She exclaims.
Tilimania nods to Kyer very quickly, her few loose bangs sticking to her forehead like glue. She manages to crane her neck to see something. "A blue something. Might be a hatchling! Or an egg." Tilly grins again, calming down some but not stopping her nervous shift of weight form one foot to the other.
C'daer pushes his wet hair off his forehead and gestures to G'thon, "Watch that brown," he calls over the chaos.
Another wail arises as the blue hatches, Renbekrah trying to break free of the half-circle to run from the sands. Held back by her mates, she reluctantly settles down and resumes her place in mute silence.
Majestic Mahogany Brown Hatchling moves on, his balance regained and supplemented by unconscious grace as he lifts his wings slightly and cranes his neck, searching for the One.
Maiden of Darkness Egg is still, sand gathered round its ovoid form displaying no hint of movement within. Then, a single grain bounces, rolls down the mount, perhaps disturbed by the passing of another hatchling. A moment later, another joins it, starting a small shower, though it still doesn't look as though the egg itself has moved.
A rather chubby girl bends over to pick up a small shard of shell that fell from one of the newly impressed dragonets, a brief, but polite, cough from a candidate behind her reminding her of the fact that her robe is a little on the short side.
Sarine looks from egg to egg even though she's seen them before. She watches the dragonets who haven't chosen closely, still more out of curiosity than anything else. She smiles at Kaela as the other candidate hides, but quickly looks back towards the eggs.
G'thon calls out aknowledgement to C'daer and keeps his gaze fixed on the roaming brown hatchling.
Ilesyn casts a curious glance towards Renbekrah, the candidate's wail resulting in another muttered comment by the Mindhealer. "Fascinating," though, is a comment more audibly made - a smile pressing itself over her lips as she concentrates on catching as many details as she can.
J'van spots the blue and his grin widens. "Indeed - Ceristh and Rasnauth have succeeded again in producing fine offspring.." he murmurs, his own pride now evident for his lifemate's sake. Hearing C'daer, his gaze is distracted for a moment as he nods his approval to the Weyrlingmaster...he'll be pleased indeed with a smoothly running hatching and the new overseer of weyrlings seems well-up to the task ahead.
Kaysera alternates feet to lift from to hot sands, stopping once the blue emerges. "Wow." she states simply. A quirk of a brow is motioned to the wailing candidate, trying her best to ignore the loud girl.
Tarrant openly admires the new-hatched blue dragon, though his eyes keep alert for other wayward dragonets. He offers a true grin for the handsome hatchling.
Kyer's brow raises as she glances eagerly towards the eggs where most of the comotion seems to be directed as well. "Blue?" Oh yes, she's excited, "Oh.. I can't see him.." Lip is then bit once more as Kyer digs the tip of her feet into the sands, wincing at the heat felt upon her toes.. "Mm... I wonder.." Gaze still cast towards the eggs and the now spotted blue, her hands now wringing one another as nervousness increases.
Eonwar grunts softly as his stomach twists again, his lips a little white around the edges though as things progress, he can feel the nervousness dissapating. He glances over toward Tarrant, then pans around to the rest of the semi-circle as the acid disappears and leaves him feeling and looking a little 'hollow'.
Moonlit Firework Blue Hatchling takes a moment to get his bearings before wobbling to his feet and peering down at the shards of his former home. Gently he gives one larger piece a tentative prod with a talon, and lets out a rather confused squeak. He hadn't bet on that happening when he stretched.
Cyndalia stands a little apart from the rest of the candidates, casting a glance in C'daer's direction. A very taciturn glance. In fact, her entire face is looking rather dour. Apparently this is not what she wants to be doing with her time. She pulls at the bottom of her tight robes, fixing it, and then glances around and the egg-goo covered creatures.
One of the candidates, a delicate looking girl from the Harper Hall, hums under her breath as she shifts her feet back and forth against the intensely heated sands of the hatching grounds.
Osasune murmurs, "I didn't think they'd be so - so gooey. And funny-looking!" Eyes wide, she peers about. "There's so many!"
Kaysera lets out a light chuckle as the blue squeaks, then watches him with silent admiration for a moment longer before peering around the mound to see if any others have hatched yet, and if anyone else has impressed.
Tilimania blinks out towards the eggs, her eyes focusing in on what she can see. "I think its a blue. And.. Not that's just an egg." Pause is taken while she rubs her eyes again. "I think if you stood on you tip toes you could see it Kyer." Tilly offers once again peering towards the blue.
Ilesyn leans down, to scratch at her calf - someone's unlucky movement has sent sand spraying higher even than her socks, unstylish as they are, and it itches. Even throughout this action, her eyes wander this way, and that.
Gretta manages a smile, even if it's a tight one, at Osasune's comment. "And -- awkward. It's different, than what I had thought," she admits, squeezing the candidate's hand. Overhearing comments about somesuch blue down a ways, she leans forward just a little to try and see further down the line.
Ceristh rumbles happily to the hatchling's as they emerge from their shells to face the excitement of the sands. She gives each of them her affectionate croooning, a mother's welcome to the world.
A few moments pass before Renbekrah begins to cry quietly out of stupidity and fear. Her nearest neighbor tries to comfort her, even though she despises the vindictive younger girl.
Sarine smiles at Ceristh's response to the hatchling, and doesn't loose that smile as she turns back to watch both the hatchlings and the eggs. She seems less tense, just a bit, but her feet are moving faster as she starts to really feel the heat.
Majestic Mahogany Brown Hatchling sidesteps a clutchsibling as he moves down the line of Candidates. The light and heat from the sands and the noise of the crowds are distracting, but his goal is clear. Closer, closer It's just a little further now.
Maiden of Darkness Egg finally begins to move noticeably, the smooth shell rocking back and forth, pushing aside the sand that surrounds it. Several jerks ensue, and then it rests. With renewed vigor it twitches as though the creature inside is fairly jumping up and down with effort to get out of its confines.
The movements of the Decorated Porcelain Blue Egg have been relatively unremarkable up until now: a little quiver, a small twitch, nothing extraordinary. But abruptly, with no warning, it gives a fierce rock, sending it tumbling into its gently rocking neighbour, and both Decorated Porcelain Blue Egg and Antiqued Looking Glass Egg crack as they hit the sand, spilling out a pair of young blues, one on the larger end of the spectrum for that shade, the other on the smaller. But both seem to know what they're looking for, wobbling purposefully in opposite directions, the smaller finding a stout redhead, and the larger a thin faced blonde.
Eonwar's normal personality resurfaces past the tattered ends of his frayed nerves, his attention finally shifting toward the hatchlings that are on the sands, though from his vantage point he can only see the brown. He studies it, as if it were a fine runner in the stables he has tended so very long... "Not a bad one there," he gruffs to himself.
Jalis lifts a hand to her hair as if to check on the status of one of the shell combs holding it up. That done her hand lowers as she murmurs to the Weyrleader, "That brown is going to find his mate soon I think." She says, her voice breathless with the anticipation of it all.
Kyer casts a sheepish grin towards her now reddened toes, before gaze lifts towards Tilly, "Already tried that. Sandals weren't made to support that. 'specially not here." A flash of a true grin is offered, though her attention is soon diverted once more, the fingers of her left hand tapping silently against the top of her right hand, gaze still focused in on the blue on the sands as she searches him out once more.
Tarrant peripherally hears Renbekrah's irritating wailing, and seeks to shut it out as he shut out Eonwar. Ceristh's croon is noted and grinned at, the hunter nodding his agreement. More dragonest emerge and Tarrant begins to shift a bit - foot-to-foot.
Cyndalia gives Renbekrah a disgusted look, and mutters to one of the candidates next to her, "I thought the dragons knew what they were doing. Who let -her- onto the sands?" Most of her words are lost in the heat and noise as the boy wanders away, leaving Cyndalia by herself as before. Oh well.
A blonde candidate, who had up till now been paying little attention to the eggs before her, suddenly panics and hides behind a much larger male she was standing behind as a hatchling seems to be coming in their direction. As it passes and Impresses she peeks her head back round again, finally watchful.
Ilesyn murmurs, not too inaudible, "Ugly things, when they're newly hatched." Not untrue - but certainly not said kindly. The candidate pulls herself up properly again, uninclined to study the eggs; more interesting by far are the reactions from the candidates, though each hatchling is given regular darted glances, as if to ensure that they don't get too close.
Moonlit Firework Blue Hatchling looks up from his egg shards, a hunger deep within him urging him that they cannot help him any more. His head turns and his eyes finally lock onto the strange mass of white and his head cocks to one side as he studies them for a moment then takes a few tentative steps forwards, his clumsy hatchling gait taking him not only towards the candidates, but sideways along the line as well.
J'van turns to smile down at Jalis before looking back at the brown and nodding "He does seem to be making a decision of sorts.." He murmurs softly "Any guesses of which candidate he wants? I"m never very good at that sort of thing."
Sarine is sort of by herself since Kaela hid behind someone, and assuming the other is alright behind that other candidate she glances around for those she knows. Seeing an opening near Tarrant and Eonwar she starts to move into a spot near them. She smiles at them. "Nervous yet?"
Osasune shuffles her feet around uncomfortably, murmuring, "So /hot/. I wonder if the dragons are uncomfortable, too?"
Tilimania chuckles lightly, her eyes hunting about. "I lost track of it." Tilly's nose wrinkles for a moment. "I guess their not made for it." As she tries to and then gives up. "I almost wish I had some way of seeing the hatching grounds from above. This must look so neat." Tilly grins again.
Blown Glass Weight Egg
Azure coats shell, the hue's brilliant translucency giving the illusion of transparency, the possibility of seeing clear through the heart of this perfectly round egg. Glass-like in texture, it seems fragile and sturdy at the same time, the delicacy with which it was wrought at odds with its singular heaviness and solidity. Deep within its center, although the true cores remains illusive to the eye, deep crimson and gilt-tipped verdure takes shape and form. The graceful spun-glass lines of the image take on the appearance of a grouping of cherries and leaves that need no enhancement as they rest within the crystalline turquoise background, eternally frozen in ripe vibrancy.
From the depths of your soul a dark, smoky-toned and elegant voice reverberates. The softness of its cadence suggests beauty and grace, but the timeless quality is somewhat marred by the actual words that echo through you, <
Kaysera smiles at the wandering brown as he round the mound of eggs into her view. A quick glance is offered around the ring of agitated candidates once more.
Eonwar admits, "I think I'm past that point," to Sarine as he tilts his gaze down to her, a frown quirking his lips down and tugging his red brows together. Just now he begins to hot foot it, his feet shuffling in the sands, getting grit under the straps in the most annoying way -- the thickened soles unable to save him from the heat.
Slowly, papery-like hide crackles as fissures work their way from the apex of the Maiden of Darkness Egg, the surface turning from smooth to a mosaic of colored shell. First an ebony talon breaks through, and then another, as the dragonet inside struggles for freedom. Then a limb emerges, searching for a foothold on the sands in this new world. Finally, the shell is discarded, the old left behind, and hatchling stretches languorously, glinting and glistening with glamour even beneath the egg-goo.
Tarrant nods to Sarine, gesturing her over. "Watch out for /him/," he jerks a thumb at Eonwar. "Nervous as Ceristh, probably."
---*** Luxuriantly Lush Green Hatchling ***---
Flecks of mica in variegated colors are scattered across a backdrop of deepest beryl green in an abstract mosaic that hints at subtle, shimmering designs enhancing the hatchling's graceful curves. Serpentine vines of sea-green snake across the dragon's belly in exotic, twisting curls that dance a sensuous pattern of shadow and light. As the lush creepers twine toward her spine, they grow, stretching tendrils upward to reach out over darker, blue-tinged ridges, caressing like fingertips across a pond. Her limbs are unlike the rest of her body, gradually darkening in shade to the color of green-hued tarnished brass. Tail and wing sails are crested with the highlighted sheen of oxidized copper, spreading outwards from slender bones to melt into the mysterious gloom shrouding the rest of her body.
Kaela shifts her feet a bit as the heat seems to seep upward through sandal soles, adding to her discomfort. She doesn't even notice Sarine moving she's so involved on just remaining standing and - out of sight behind her chosen barrier between hatchlings and herself. Only curiosity has her peeking out every once in a while.....but no eagerness presents itself in her expression.
Cyndalia overhears Osasune and answers, regardless of who she was speaking to. "No, I hear they like it like this." Her hands are dropped and she picks at a single hair on the robe, flicking it into the sand, and shifting from foot to foot. Bleh. "How long are these things supposed to take?"
Ilesyn goes very, very still. Her lips move, but no sounds seem to come out - it's as if she's been struck dumb. Finally, her impassive expression no longer possible to hold up, she whispers - audible only to those nearest, "What've you /done/, Nallath? /Oh/!" Incredulity, perhaps even absolute delight-- but not disappointment.
[Ilesyn Impresses Majestic Mahogany Brown Nallath]
C'daer points, his jaw dropping open. He works it, boggling, up and down, and finally squeaks out, "G'thon? G'thon, go and.. and.. yeah."
Osasune shakes her head at Cyndalia. "I don't know! They like it? That's good. At least they like it."
Moonlit Firework Blue Hatchling gets his feet sorted out and his path becomes more steady as he moves, this time deliberately along in front of the white line. His head turns back to his mother for a moment, and as he lets out a long creel towards her he moves backwards once more, away from the candidates.
Sarine smiles at Eonwar. "Well, it'll be over with quickly, at least for everyone else but us. I remember it *feeling* like a really long time." She grins at Tarrant. "And you aren't?"
Kyer's struck by a sudden fit of laughter at Tilly's words, though she's quick enough to catch them so little more then soft snort of air passes. "Mm. You've a point Tilly. I bet you can see everything from way up there." And Kyer is brave enough to turn away from the eggs to point towards the galleries, "Not so good here though. But still." Shoulders are half lifted as she shrugs, gaze returned onto the sands and feet shifted once more. "Any heading this way?" Okay..so she was a /little/ curious.
G'thon spies the brown select Ilesyn, and he hurries over to assist weyrling and hatchling. "If he says he's hungry, yes, yes, they're -all- hungry," he reassures the young woman, "We'll take care of that first thing. C'mon, now." A hand on Ilesyn's shoulder and he's guiding her off the Sands and to the barracks. There's a faint smirk on his face as the formerly diffident candidate is lead irresistably to the next phase in her life.
Jalis moves to elbow the Weyrleader as she leans against him, "See! Look, the brown.. he's found.. who was it? Our Ilesyn? Well well!" She seems pleasantly surprised, "I can see her counsling her fellow weyrlings now." She whispers with a soft laugh.
Tarrant looks up, and manages to catch Ilesyn Impressing the first brown. He simply goggles for a moment, and then laughs with humor and suprise. "Congrats, Ilesyn!" he calls to the stunned Mindhealer.
Eonwar shakes a fist in Tarrant's direction, though he has no intention of actually getting physical -- he's not necessarily that type. "Watch your mouth, hunter!" he suggests with extreme irritation, then just as quickly is suddenly laughing right from his belly. "Ilesyn... hah.. impressed... hee!" And /he/ saw it all. What sweet irony. He doesn't get a chance to answer Sarine's comments.
Gretta rubs the sweat from her forehead with her free hand, then wipes her damp hand on the front of her. "I want to know how they know where -- or who -- to go to. Where's that brown going, now?" Her eyes squint, and she gawks. "Is that /Ilesyn/?"
Ilesyn's expression remains indescribable, her head lifted away from Nallath somewhat confusedly, as she listens to G'thon, nodding hesitantly. "Um." Her mouth moves, but words do not come out, and another glance is snuck towards Nallath. He's kidding, right?
You amble inwards to the Weyrling barracks.
G'thon ambles in from the hot sands of the hatching cavern.
Nallath approaches from the hot sands of the hatching cavern.
<
<
<
G'thon escorts Ilesyn in, leading the duo to the nearest vat of meat. "Give him a few bites now, and then grab a handful and coax him further in. You're first, so you get your pick of couches," he says cheerfully. "Make sure he -chews- every bite, or he'll have stomachaches tonight."
Dragon> You sense Nallath follows his new lifemate, crooning softly. <>
Ilesyn stares at G'thon somewhat blankly, as if his words don't quite parse through her brain, but Nallath, at least, manages to bring her back to consciousness, and she nods. "Uh, right." Her hand is dug into the vat of meat, a handful pulled out and offered - somewhat tentatively - to the brown. "You--- I---." She breaks off.
Dragon> You sense Nallath accepts the offering delicately. <
[Osasune Impresses Moonlit Fireworks blue Caledoth]
G'thon watches Ilesyn carefully. For now the barracks are mostly empty, the older weyrlings out watching the hatching (humans and dragons both). "That hunger is his hunger, not yours," he reassures. "He's never eaten in his whole, short, life. He'll get the hang of it soon."
Ilesyn is slightly more composed as she offers a second handful of meat to Nallath, peering up at G'thon slightly less blank. "Oh. Right. I'm not hungry. He is." She peers, somewhat quizzically, at Nallath. "It's meat. Meat is messy. A good observation."
C'daer ambles in from the hot sands of the hatching cavern.
Osasune ambles in from the hot sands of the hatching cavern.
Caledoth approaches from the hot sands of the hatching cavern.
C'daer ushers Osasune in carefully, looking over
Posted by Louise at January 29, 2003 04:55 PM