August 4, 2004
R'hyn and Kiora are particularly gooberish as Siramyth lays her clutch. Previous Next
Dragon> Siramyth senses that Arisvath's voice is full of soft attentiveness; he reaches out gingerly, soothing. << How are you, this evening? >>
You head out the wide opening to the bowl.
Dragon> Arisvath senses that Siramyth's response is warm and affectionate -- perhaps a bit /too/ warm. << I feel very big, >> she replies thoughtfully. << And a bit wiggly. I am thinking about moving, perhaps, but really, I'm quite comfortable where I am. But I think I should move. What do you think? >>
Dragon> Arisvath bespoke Siramyth with << Wiggly? >> He considers this, all flickered-flame and silvered dust. << It's probably good, for the little ones, if you move... I will come and join you? Where it's warm? >>
Rheth heads over from the southwestern end of the bowl.
Kiora putters along from the weyrleader complex, her expression unreadable behind her protective layer of leathers. "I'm not going to push her," she whines. "She should make up her mind and do it herself." And off she waddles.
Dani slips deftly down to the bent foreleg of Rheth, the blue lowering to a crouch and watching with gentle eyes as the she hops to the ground.
Dragon> Arisvath senses that Siramyth mulls this over, occupying her mind with scenes of Ista -- or the hatching grounds. << I think you're right. Kiora won't push me, anything. If you don't come, I'm leaving, though, >> she notes. << Because you already said you would. >>
R'hyn, wide-eyed and apparently not completely dressed, his coat flying, dodges a couple of riders on his way out of the Weyrleader weyrs. "Arisvath thinks it's--" he begins, as he catches up to Kiora. "Is it?"
Dragon> Siramyth senses that Arisvath seems positively enthralled with this, and echoes dark-sands with lighter ones, encouragingly. << I'm coming. I promise. >>
Dragon> Fort Weyr dragons sense that Arisvath's delight is hot and fuzzy, echoing through the weyr as he raises a hum: << Eggs! I think we're going to have eggs! >> Fatherly pride, at it's best.
Arisvath comes out the wide opening from the weyrleader complex.
"Yes," Kiora replies, not as worried as R'hyn seems to be. "I think. This time. I /hope/. Sometimes she says it is, and it isn't, but she's already there, so we'll just have to wait and see." She looks up at him, a vague hint of a beam visible. "So off we go." And she's off! Slowly. Absurd amounts of clothing suck for movement.
Kiora heads into the Hatching grounds.
You head through the large entrance into the Fort Weyr Hatching grounds.
R'hyn looks positively enthusiastic - not often seen, since his arrival at Fort. "Oh, wonderful. It's always exciting."
You step onto the Sands, heat immediately evident on the bottoms of your feet.
Arisvath comes onto the Sands from the anteroom.
Kiora comes onto the Sands from the anteroom.
From the galleries, Regallan comes up the stairs and out the tunnel from the living cavern.
From the galleries, Emani comes up the stairs and out the tunnel from the living cavern.
From the galleries, Following the flow of traffic, Trusilwyn keeps things civil around her by keeping a good, steady pace down the hall. A few kids rush past her, prompting her to comment, "It's the hurry up and wait game, you know." Curmudgeon at sixteen. So sad.
From the galleries, Dani comes up the steps from the anteroom.
From the galleries, Iker comes up the stairs and out the tunnel from the living cavern.
From the galleries, N'thri totally walked in here just now. Well, ok. He ran in here just now, jogging hurriedly up the steps along with like a jillion other people from the Weyr. At least the bluerider had the forethought to bring himself something a skin of wine and a mug, so that he and his stuff can settle near the middle of the galleries with a nice, clear view and some beverage. Yay!
R'hyn's apparently in a hurry, his jacket flying this way and that, his shirt a little on the untucked side, though he's hastily attempting to remedy that as he walks. "Gosh, I'd forgotten how warm it gets out here," he remarks, shucking off the jacket and dropping it unceremoniously over to one side. He gives Siramyth a kind of wary glance, and Arisvath a more encouraging one. "This better not be a false alarm."
From the galleries, Regallan meanders slowly up the stairs into the galleries, followed by a group of giggling girls that poor Reggie has to claim as her sisters. While the gigglers settle in a tier close to the top Reg moves right down towards the front to sit, taking a seat close aisle.
Kiora immediately begins peeling her leathers off, bundling her scarves and whatnot up in her coat and tossing the lot of it ... away. Some place. "Just be glad I convinced her not to say anything the last half-dozen times she tried to come out here," she replies, beaming up at the galleries. "Else you'd have more to complain about."
From the galleries, Emani isn't really rushing either, so secure she is in her ability to get herself a seat even if she is a little late coming along. As such, it takes her some time to even get in the galleries and scan the growing crowd. Luckily, that means she's well behind Trusilwyn.
From the galleries, Dani comes up the steps from the anteroom.
From the galleries, Faelan leans right against the railing, not worrying that she might be in someone's way.
From the galleries, Kaiel comes up the stairs and out the tunnel from the living cavern.
From the galleries, T'ren comes up the steps from the anteroom.
From the galleries, Asoelian herself moves down the long tunnelway leading from the living cavern. She pauses just long enough to gain her bearings before she moves off towards one of the higher points of the galleries. Choosing to settle herself within a corner there. One leg is propped beneath her as she reaches around with a hand to pull the tail of her hair off her back and over one shoulder.
"I--" R'hyn breaks off, then just laughs. "Well. I'm hoping. C'mon, Siramyth -- let's see some of those fine not-really-Istan eggs."
================================= Eye Spy Egg ================================
A collision of color explodes with fierce abandon across the rounded sides of this large egg. Without any particular pattern of coherency or even planning, pastel purples, pinks, oranges, carmines and even bronze flash in uneven splotches, shapes, waves, curls and bands. Each a confusing mesh of one color or another so as to make it look as though this egg were constantly shifting hues beneath the glow of even the softest amount of light. Hardest to spot of all is that faint glow of pure white that comes from somewhere just beneath the ever shifting hues above.
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From the galleries, Kaiel trudges up the stairs, panting heavily by the time he reaches the galleries themselves. Moving to one side, he leans against the stone wall and wipes his arm against his forehead, curling his lip in disgust for the sweat. Taking deep breaths, he manages to regulate his breathing again. Turning his attention swiftly toward the sands, he watches a moment before moving toward the tiers. Moving up, up, he passes several levels before finding a good seat and plunking himself down onto it, nodding politely to his neighbors.
Arisvath greets Siramyth's first egg with equal pride, trumpeting loudly. Of course, hes taken his time to examine it as if to make sure that it is good enough and hes a little late: Siramyth has already gone and laid the next.
From the galleries, Scay takes the steps two at a time as she scrambles into the galleries. Though weyrbred, the sight of a clutch is always enough to garner her attention -- well, at the beginning at least. She slides into a seat at the front of the galleries eagerly.
From the galleries, "Hurry Olwyn!" Yasmin murmurs in a hushed but urgent tone as she arrives, "Pick up your feet! Quit dallying! Sean will be along soon." The seamstress and her weaver friend begin to make their way through the crowd, along the front tier to find a pair of empty spaces as close together as possible.
================================ Magic Map Egg ===============================
As a fore note, an overtone of antique patina etches itself into nooks and cracks- the imperfections of the egg-and gives it an aged, old look. An archipelago of sandy tans stretches across a deep blue. Depths are marked in hues, colors ranging from sea foam green to bluish black. A dash of pink, red, or yellow slices through the ocean, marking locations of creatures only the daring need approach. The tans-the islands-are complete stories amongst themselves. One is filled with grays and the largest; a mountain of an island. One is filled with greens and the smallest; a lush forest. One is filled with golds and creams and purples-the only inhabitable place to live. The last is a land of the eye: browns of swamp ooze (or slime) and reds and blacks of what could be described as a combating chessboard.
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From the galleries, T'ren makes his way into the galleries, forgoing the front few tiers. Instead he manages to set himself into a shadowy corner, eyes watching the dragon on the sands.
From the galleries, Trusilwyn lets her eyes pass over those already assembled, noting their places and what. Spying N'thri, something malevolent crosses her mouth. It's only there for a moment, though, and is swiftly replaced by a more placid expression. Walking through the bleachers, she comes up two rows under him, smiling shyly with a twist of her shoulders. "Um, that seat next to you taken?"
Kiora makes a face. "Don't tease her now, else she might find a way to change her mind about the whole thing." But there are eggs, and so it would seem it's a bit difficult to turn back now. Kiora just makes a sound disturbingly akin to 'twee'.
============================= Heroic Dreaming Egg ============================
A dagger? No, a sword. No, that's a crystal tipped wand. Against a background of pitch black, studded with diamond-like intrusions, rests a shape. No, three, depending on how the egg is turned. On one side, steely grey gleams when touched by the light, shaped as a sword ready to strike. Walnut twines around the hilt, and though battered and nicked, the blade itself is more than serviceable. A faint blue aura seems to envelop the sword at times, like fire; a trick of the light, perhaps. On another side, the more familiar form of a dagger rests, brass-wrapped hilt and slender, deadly blade almost menacing. The third is an odd concoction of crystal and wood, like a globe-topped staff, golden wire wrapping itself about the arcane decoration. Again, that faint aura, this one of a pristine white, seems to surround the wand; an overlay, no doubt, catching the sun. Even when there is none.
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From the galleries, Regallan leans forward as another egg joins the first "Interesting eggs so far, I wonder how many she'll clutch."
From the galleries, Faelan rests her arms on the railing and her chin ontop of them, watching the egg laying. She's interested enough that she is acutally staying still..for the moment.
From the galleries, Iker gazes up from his seat near the front to see Emani looking around. Squaring his shoulders roughly to gain a little more space, the young man lifts a hand to try and catch the attention of the hot dragonhealer. "There's room over here, if you need a seat?"
From the galleries, Kachiri heads into the galleries, rushing a bit to get a good seat. "Oh, I love clutchings...The start of many new lives, the home of tomorrow born." she says, and finds a seat. Even after 20 turns, she still loves these things.
From the galleries, Dani smiling, nods as Scay scrambles to a seat. Holding up three fingers to show how many eggs have been laid so far. One eye on the sands, and the other catching others scrambling for those perfect spots.
R'hyn laughs, digging his right hand into his pocket, while the left runs through his hair easily. "Sorry, Sira," he calls out to the queen, peering at the eggs with great interest. "Three, already. They're really nice."
While Siramyth does all the hard work, Arisvath digs depressions in the fine, pale sand. He lifts his head as another egg arrives, greeting it with a warm hum of delight.
======================= Blooms Amid The Dreariness Egg =======================
A dark, sad-looking little egg is nestled amid the Sands, shadows and gloom hanging heavily about its surface. The majority of the egg is formless and dim - vague hints of cement gray here and there, and a splash of white near the apex as a spinnerweb hanging from a dark corner - but there are still a few distinguishing features. Out of the darkness near the top of the egg, a slanted band of pale gold filters down across the surface, washed-out like diffused sunlight on a winter day. As it nears the base of the egg, the diagonal wash of wan light illuminate a few hints of green and pink - like tiny, pale-faced flowers somehow blooming on the darkened facade of this egg. It's a strange but pretty image, somehow sad and hopeful at once.
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From the galleries, Dani comes up the steps from the anteroom.
From the galleries, N'thri's looking comically torn: Excited enough about the clutching but still irritated every time he looks down toward Kiora and R'hyn. It's a tough spot. Thus, it takes him a few seconds to realize Trusilwyn's addressing him at all. Finally, when someone behind him gives him a nudge with their foot, he blinks. "Oh, sorry. This one? No, no. Be my guest." He's only a /little/ wary, but hides it well in favor of good old-fashioned courtesy.
From the galleries, Asoelian's still watching the clutching. Having an easier time with it now that she's repositioned herself to see over the small crowd that managed to claim seats directly infront of the one she'd taken. Though still within that corner, she does keep a running count of the eggs as they're laid, as well as glancing towards the crowd as it continues to grow. One lip is nibbled briefly before she shakes her head and resumes her egg watching. Looking far more curious about the entire procession than anything else.
Kiora clasps her hands, beaming with pride. "They're real pretty. I kind of like that one." She gestures towards Eye Spy Egg, her hands still together. "It's so colorful!"
From the galleries, Emani, as with all things, takes her time when she reaches the end of the tiers of seats, curious to see who's sitting where - and, of course, to be admired while she does. It seems to work, from Iker's offer - she grins brilliantly over at the young man, just then spotting Trusilwyn settling down near N'thri. Her eyes narrow slightly, but she's pleasant enough to the potter. "Maybe another time," she says, with an apologetic smile. And then, she's off towards that middle row.
From the galleries, Trusilwyn jostles her way up the next two rows, simply stepping up the seats like a wide staircase. Her posture is reserved, going so far that when she sits, she sits a bit on her hands. "Um, look..."
"Mmm," says R'hyn, considering the four. "I'm not sure. They're all-- nice." Arisvath huffs, to R'hyn's cheerful laughter. "Okay, okay, they're perfect!"
Another egg tumbles on to the sands, left out in the open by Siramyth as she shifts to find another comfortable spot.
========================== Verdant Twisting Rope Egg =========================
A rich grass-green covers this egg with an almost velvety surface that invites touch and caress. It is larger than most, attracting the eye with both its size and simplicity as it nestles in the sand. At the egg's base, in the midst of all that verdant color, is a small child-like figure. Seeming captured in mid-jump, the child's misty hands trail a line, of twisting rope, captured in a moment of carefree play and breathless giggles.
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From the galleries, Faelan ohs softly at the latest one, talking more to herself. "I like that one."
Kiora peeks up at the galleries again, an expression of concern upon her face for just a moment. "Everyone else seems excited," she adds, relaxed for the first time in quite a while. Maybe it's the heat. "Clutchings are always so good for everybody, I think."
From the galleries, N'thri's wineskin gets handed around, of course. Because other people aren't smart enough to bring their own refreshments, the bluerider winds up handing his back to a threatening looking brownrider seated in the next row behind him. But he got his glass, and that's all that matters. Over the rim of it, eyes still toward the sands, he talks at Trusilwyn.
From the galleries, Yasmin is so wrapped up in watching the clutching she almost doesn't realize Kachiri has found a nearby seat in the front tier. It takes a nudge by her shorter, more plump friend Olwyn who greets Kachiri with a warm smile and nod of the head before Yasmin does the same, "Oh, Kachiri! What a fine clutching, isn't it?" The willowy blond is brimming with barely contained excitement. It is then that she spies Iker beyond and grins to him as well, dipping her head as a means of greeting without shouting to him.
From the galleries, Jondeval comes up the stairs and out the tunnel from the living cavern.
R'hyn wipes some sweat from his brow, and unbuttons the top button of his shirt, using his free hand to fan himself. "I was kind of looking forward to being out here," is his low grumble, though his eyes are shining with a childish delight. "Exactly," he agrees, more happily, to Kiora. "They're all about the new life, and everything."
Arisvath whisks away a few little pieces of coloured eggshell from the depression he's working on, smoothing it out just in time for Siramyth to approach and deposit within it another egg.
============================= Blitzed Oceanic Egg ============================
A slosh of brilliant turquoise coats the rounded bottom of this egg, giddy azure bubbles effervescing up liquid smooth sides. An impossible teardrop, beaded moistly upon hot sands. Crystal light shoots through cerulean ripples, a tense gasp whispering across the exterior. There, in the depths of blue, streaks a flash of taunting yellow - straining eagerly to break the tenuous surface. Darting behind chases a refracted cluster of manlike forms, mirages of ebony and navy surging forward. Yet only one succeeds: a dash of gold arcing above the cyan sphere into the cobalt cap of the narrowing shell. Pinpricks of alabaster light this evening sky, until a roiling shadow crests the tip. Menacing in its darkness, the inky cloak flows down the egg's backside, threatening to consume all.
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From the galleries, Kachiri smiles cheerfully at Yasmin. "It's wonderful...I remember being crammed in the galleries and watching when Ruhith's egg was laid...though I didn't know at the time!" she says with a silly grin. "Twenty turns ago it was..." wince at that. Enough to make anyone feel old. "The eggs are simply stunning...ooh, that one looks wonderful!" She says, pointing to the Blitzed Oceanic Egg.
From the galleries, Despite the still open places closer to the sands, Kaiel remains in his top tier, hunched forward slightly with elbows on knees. As a group of laughing people approach, he straightens, turning sideways to allow them through before returning to his position. He seems to ignore the woman sitting next to him, who's got a running dialogue going before he finally pipes up. "That one," and he points out the dominant green one, "is a nice colouring for an egg." A moment's pause as the woman speaks again. "How many? I'm not sure. First time I've seen one. I'd say..." and he trails off, squinting at Siramyth for a moment and then Arisvath, as if comparing two runners up for sale. "Twenty six." As another egg arrives, he frowns. "Make that twenty four." And he's content to going silent once more.
From the galleries, Trusilwyn, her posture forward leaning as she watches the clutching, chuckles wryly, a casual glance tilted sidelong towards N'thri.
"That one is blue!" Kiora squeals with delight, just in case R'hyn went mysteriously colorblind, and then it's back to the conversation at hand. "That's right. Nobody could really be angry at a time like this."
From the galleries, Emani approaches Trusilwyn and N'thri's row, squeezing past said threatening looking brownrider in such a way that when she asks, with a smile, she gets the wineskin handed over immediately. She abandons the men for his trouble, squeezing her way into a place on N'thri's onether side. Lucky guy. "Here," she says, depositing the skin in his lap. True doesn't even get a glance.
From the galleries, T'ren keeps himself tucked into that shadowy corner, and amazingly enough most people skirt that area, choosing other places to sit.
R'hyn's expression turns amused. "Yes," he agrees, mock-gravely. "It is. Lovely colouring."
Siramyth trumpets loudly as another egg appears on the sands -- it isn't visible for long, though. The gold's bulk shifts to hide it, and once she's moved, it's simply a sandy lump.
========================= Fantasy In The Mundane Egg =========================
A strange juxtaposition of chaos and calmness, this egg's shell looks fragmented and unfinished - like two halves of unrelated paintings pasted together on one canvas. Slightly off-center lengthwise, the union is abrupt, with one side all awash in drab shades and the other tangled with livelier hues. Concrete gray, asphalt black, and steel blue seem forbiddingly bleak, especially when put next to the wilder shades of crimson and tangerine and canary. Along the sharp line of contrast, the brighter colors appear cracked, tiny dark lines amid the wash of vivid shades so that this lighter, brighter side seems somehow fragile and insubstantial.
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From the galleries, Dani rests her chin on folded hands, and elbows on knees. A smile, a twinkle in her eyes, cheeks flushed and the hair on the back of her neck sticky from perspiration. Whispering, "It is hot! I lost count. How many eggs now?"
From the galleries, Only a bit miffed to be passed up, Iker gives a small wave to Emani. He catches Yasmin's nod and shifts his wave and pairs it with a smile to acknowledge her before turning back to the sands. His eyes linger on the Magic Map egg, drawn into the patterns of color.
From the galleries, Asoelian makes a soft noise at the back of her throat as she leans slightly closer towards the row infront of her. Not quite drawing fully out of her corner, though nearing it. Even as she hears the various conversations about her. Her lips purse again as her gaze trails over a select grouping of people. Only for her to shake her head towards those thoughts, her attention turning briefly towards the entrance and studying the shadows that gather within the very core of it. Until that loud bugle causes a cringe and flinch from Aso, so much so that she starts slightly and bumps her knee into the back of the fellow infront of her. A quickly murmured apology comes as she rests back in her seat, her gaze now scouring the sands for signs of just why that bugle had been made. Jumpy? Not Asoelian.
Arisvath hastens his hole-digging exercises, Siramyth clutching fast enough that he has less time to perfect them. In his haste, he misses the clutching of the next egg, belatedly lifting his head and trilling in surprise.
======================= Pin The Tail On The Runner Egg =======================
A swirling sea of fuzzy, rough textured looking gray adorns this shell in scattered layers, some growing darker than others, and yet more as light as a newly minted piece of silver. The whole egg seems strangely coated in this hue, broken only once by a solid point of black shaped into a sphere at the upper corner of the egg. Near straight down towards the base are horizontal slashes of ebony black, score marks that look to be quite dense and nearly form a perfect square shape, were it not for the points of silvery gray that can just be seen between individual strands.
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From the galleries, Jondeval tears up the stairs into the galleries accompanied by a couple other weyrboys and all three of them show equal shares in being absolutely filthy. Jon scrambles into an empty bench near the top of the bleachers and stands on it to see over the heads in front of him "Ohhh, lookit. There's already some laid...ewww. Did you just see that!?" The three boys make revolted sounds as they witness the laying of the next egg. Jon finds that he still can't see even standing on the bench so he scrambles over a few more rows to the very back to get a better look.
From the galleries, Yasmin and Olwyn turn back to to the sands with Kachiri's pointing out that oceanic one and nearly in unison exhale, "Ooooooo." Then they both lapse silent as they resume watching eagerly.
There is a brief pause in the steady dropping of eggs -- then Siramyth rumbles throatily, and another egg rolls out and onto the sands with a soft thump.
=============================== Icy Sticks Egg ===============================
A vast, white expanse sweeps across this rather large egg, but not uniform - different shades of white and whitish-grey undulate shift and twist across the shell. Pure white eddies and curls in drifts, like the all-too-familiar snow of the Fortian winter. Slashes of wood-brown criss-cross all this white, concentrated around and vying for possession of a single, unassuming, small black disk.
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Kiora's joyous expression remains. "This is going so well. Nice eggs, everybody happy ..." From a distance. "It'll be a good clutch, I bet. Lots of eggs so far ... nine or ten, maybe. I've kinda lost track."
R'hyn, nodding quickly, agrees: "I think so, too. Oh - look at that one." He's positively beaming, and notes, "I think that one is Arisvath's favourite so far. He always has a favourite. I never can pick."
Arisvath croons in encouragement as Siramyth lays another egg, tail twitching upon the sands in hopeful anticipation. The new egg is given the once-over - apparently satisfied, Arisvath pushes the sand up around it, and waddles carefully after Siramyth.
============================= Shadowy Menace Egg =============================
A shadowy forest has sprung up on this curving surface, gray and brown branches reaching, twisting high into leaden skies. Though the egg is small, there seems to be a presence here, a figure hidden deep within the forested surface. Details vanish as quickly as they appear - a triangular ear, a gleaming flash of ivory fang, hints of muscular grace and of powerful strength. It is a wild savagery, waiting to burst out of the egg in a single terrifying movement.
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From the galleries, Kachiri smiles at the reactions of everyone around her. Good, at least everyone agrees that eggs are good. Another egg, and she squints at it. "Hmm, interesting."
From the galleries, Faelan glances over her shoulder during a space between the appearing eggs, to look up at the people in the galleries. Seems the Istans and Fortians are getting along well enough here at least. So far.
From the galleries, Kaiel lifts a hand to still his neighbor's chatter, pointing then toward the most recent egg. "Look at that one. It's... different from the others. Not so bright." He frowns thoughtfully, turning his head to regard the woman, listening to her words, a motion of her hand dismissing it. "True, it is rather small compared to the others. But that doesn't mean much." Returning his attention to the egg, he studies it as best he can from the distance. Shrugging finally, he straightens to rest his back for a few moments, though his eyes never leave the dark egg.
Siramyth butts her head gently against Kiora's stomach, expecting some kind of gesture of approval. However, her attention is quickly turned towards the newest egg on the sands, and the goldrider's response to the previous, if any, is gone unnoticed.
========================= Breed A Better Chocobo Egg =========================
There is nothing subtle about this egg -- vivid yellows cover it from top to bottom, from a shadowy saffron around the bottom to a cheery sunflower color closer to the narrow end, all lustrously buffed to gleam like gold. Faint patterns, set out like tufted feathers, sweep across the surface of the egg, marked out in shades of apricot and peach. Though undeniably bright, and large enough to stand out from many smaller eggs, the colours aren't really an eyesore, and on the whole, it seems quite non-threatening.
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Kiora bobs her head, then pushes her hair back behind her ears. "That one is pretty," she admits. "I don't know which one Siramyth likes best. She changes her mind a lot, I think. Or just never decides to begin with." She squeaks as Siramyth noses at her, and then stares at the newest egg. "Um."
From the galleries, "Anyway," Trusilwyn murmurs, pulling her hands out from her her to stand. "I better get going." Before hair and nails start flying.
R'hyn glances at the latest egg, then at Siramyth, Arisvath, and Kiora. "Well," he says, echoing Kiora's 'um'. "I suppose we can really use another." Pride etches itself into his smile, as he glances back at Arisvath. "You stud."
Arisvath leaves a trail of neat depressions in the sand behind him, finally settling himself down to watch the proceedings. As Siramyth positions herself atop the next, he trills in delight at the latest of his progeny. Ooh - an egg!
============================= Tattered Pages Egg =============================
At first glance, this egg appears to be a rather ordinary, ovate mass, roughly the color of well-worn wherhide. It is only upon closer inspection that the fine detail - hidden behind the illusion of simplicity - is revealed. Tiny fibres, only slightly varying in hue, make up the majority of the surface of the textured shell. They weave about each other at random, forming thick, dark clumps in some areas, while remaining thin and pale in others. The monotony is only broken around the backside of the egg where, plainly visible, there is a large, squarish patch of vibrant color. Greens and browns and blues form the makings of a patchy image within a smoky black frame, which melts back into the surrounding tans and browns like swirls of darkened mud in an already-murky puddle.
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From the galleries, Not to say that N'thri looks relieved when True makes like she's going to leave but - seriously. Why lie? The dude looks relieved. Still, courtesy mandates the token, "You can stay if you wanna. I mean, one bench is about like the next, right?" To Emani, he adds, "No, you didn't miss much. And that figures." He frowns at the gold egg like he's taking its presence personally, durnit.
Kiora bounces on her heels a bit, looking even more pleased than before. "Siramyth's first!" She beams vividly at R'hyn, and then turns a loving look back on Siramyth as another egg appears. "This is so exciting. I'm so proud of them! I can't wait to tell my parents." Because having children vicariously through Siramyth is like having real kids, really.
R'hyn grins back at Kiora, though there's an edge of concern there. "A new Fort queen. And she is Fortian - I mean, more than Ista. More Southern than that, because she's got Arisvath twice over, but still. It's good news. Congratulations, Ki."
Siramyth shifts slightly, her belly digging deeper into the sand. She uses her tail to blanket the eggs with the grainy stuff, then moves away to reveal yet another multicolored ovoid.
============================= Explosive Dairy Egg ============================
Creamy shades of cream and red, almost gluggy in appearance, envelop the surface of this mid-sized egg, like a dairy-fuelled lava spewing from a lactose intolerant volcano. Much as though it were debris, hurled across the warm hued egg, chunks of colour mix through the creamier backdrop - greens and browns bobbing up and down against the ruffled waves. A closer glance suggests shapes amid the randomness - a slender length of orange, a tree-like green, and even a faintly tuber-shaped patch of brown.
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From the galleries, Asoelian's quite able to settle down now, given there's no more bugling. Though the girl still looks as though she's settled on the metaphorical egg shells. Her gaze continues to move about the sands in the occasional pass, but a majority of her attention now resides on the people rather then the eggs. Studying those groups formed, more precisely, though she still remains quite silent. Content to 'hide' in her own little corner rather than risk drawing unwanted attention in her direction.
From the galleries, Trusilwyn turns and levels a sardonic eyebrow at the man. It asks a lot of questions, all of them sarcastic. "That's alright," she finally says, looking between N'thri and Emani. "I wouldn't want to spoil this moment for Ista by, you know, being around. Lots of healthy eggs it looks like, and maybe even a gold, after all!" Hesitating, she gives N'thri something almost beseeching. "Anyway. I'll see you around."
From the galleries, Jondeval stands on one of the benches and cranes his head to see the 'gross and disgusting' laying of the clutch. He and his friends make an irritating chorus of "Ewww's" and "Thats disgusting" or "Did you see that!?" Apparently this is much better then watching the greens making their kills in the feeding pens.
So busy carefully piling up the sand around the previous egg, Arisvath doesn't actually notice Siramyth's laboured efforts at clutching until the egg is on the sands, gleaming damply - a bright splash of colour against the pale backdrop. Still, what he lacks in prompt attentiveness, he makes up in hurried delight to come over and inspect the latest.
============================ Catch That Snitch Egg ===========================
Dark, stormy grays scatter in torrential patterns across the peaked dome of this egg, showering downwards in a diagonal spread, spiralling from the too pointed dome to the very rounded base of the egg. Darker strands of black curl about each spiral and seek to drown out all hope of any escape. Beneath the darkness crimson dots spread, wildly floating about in organized patterns. High, high above them all is a singular patch of red. Scouring the unseen land below while just ahead of this red dot is a small golden pinpoint of light. Almost seen, and perhaps nearly caught were it not for that overbearing cover of darkness hiding it.
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From the galleries, Emani looks up at Trusilwyn only long enough to indicate that she's talking to her past combatant. "If you want to stay, you can," she says, neutrally and politely. N'thri gets a bemused look. "Must you complain about -everything-?"
Kiora doesn't seem worried at all -- if she even follows what R'hyn's trying to say. "She's Siramyth's and Arisvath's, so it doesn't matter where she's at. That goes for the rest of them, too." She sticks her tongue out at him in a fine display of dignity. "Right now's not the time to fuss about that sort of thing."
R'hyn opens up his mouth to say something more to Kiora, but breaks off and just smiles instead. "Yeah, okay," he agrees, finally. "Oh - I like that latest one. Kind of stormy. Nice."
Siramyth settles down to lay her next egg, Arisvath stretched out beside her, crooning softly as she labours. Once the egg has arrived, he hastily shifts the sand about it to keep it warm, his delight evident in the warm rumble he offers.
============================== Weird Writing Egg =============================
A darkling egg, nearly black, seems caught in a perpetually eerie shadow: It's as if it had found some bizarre ray of bluish light that glistens over the dim surface. This strange trick of coloration seems, at first, the only really interesting feature of the egg. Closer, more detailed inspection is required to note the tiny white filigree tracing across the black screen of the shell: In evenly spaced rows from apex to base, strange markings - almost like an unreadable writing - march systematically across the surface. There's nothing especially fancy or even wholly remarkable about the egg or its markings, yet, for some, it might prove an intriguing little spectacle, worthy of attention despite its seemingly bland appearance.
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From the galleries, T'ren shoots a look over at the group of boys, eyes narrowed slightly. He gives them the evil eye for a moment and then finally just says, "Shush."
From the galleries, "Now, there's another darkish one. Unlike that rather revol..." Kaiel clears his throat politely, "that rather bright yellow one there." He points out said one. The woman nods slightly before her attention is diverted by the group of boys and their comments. Muttering in annoyance, she excuses herself from Kaiel and moves down into another seat. The man smirks faintly, nodding as she leaves before he looks up at Jondeval and his friends. Laughing slightly to himself, he shakes his head and returns his attention to the sands once more.
From the galleries, N'thri meets True's beseeching look with an apologetic one - like, really, what's he supposed to do here? "I'm sure we'll run into each other sooner or later. I think you can still snag a seat down front if you're pushy enough," he offers uncomfortably, obviously feeling a bit like a heel. He even refrains from quipping back to Emani.
Arisvath gives Siramyth an encouraging croon -- there can't be many more, now. The gold squats, leaving behind her another egg, which the bronze deals with lovingly.
============================== Tawny Marble Egg ==============================
Honey-hazel brown ebb and flow with traces of cream, swirling to create a tawny marbling effect as a mellifluous foundation for uneven bands of light and dark speckles striping across the curving, smooth surface of this fair-sized egg in seemingly unplanned fashion; it is as if an artist let the wind guide the stroke.
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From the galleries, Jondeval looks over at T'ren and just as he is about to make a face at the brownrider the boy reconizes both his face and the knot on his shoulder. Heaving a deep sigh Jon slumps and sits down on his bench to see what there is to see over the tops of heads as he watches his buddies simply move to another section of the bleachers.
Kiora offers R'hyn a more subdued smile. "Thanks. We're here now, and there are more important things to worry about than whether they're Southern or Fortian or whatever." She returns her attention back to the eggs, then, 'ooh'ing faintly at Tawny Marble Egg. "I like that one best, so far. It's real pretty."
R'hyn nods once, a little hesitantly, and then once more - this time with more confidence. "Sure. It's all about the celebrations, today." He peers up into the galleries, head tilted to the side, but says nothing about what, if anything, he sees.
Siramyth lays another bright egg, rolling it quickly into one of the depressions she's managed to dig and making sure it's comfortably settled.
======================== Imaginative Possibilities Egg =======================
It's there. Isn't it? Of course it is, that pearlescent ovoid resting against the sand. Or is it? Perhaps it's a hideous beast, lying in wait for the right time to strike. See, there's the head, the paw raised to strike - no. It's an egg. That's all. But... perhaps it's more than an egg. Glorious treasure, locked away deep within the bowls of some secret Hold, untold wealth and fortune to those who find it - no. T'is only a dragon's egg. And yet... they say that magic could look like that, and no one would know. A globe of iridescent luminescence, created by some great, nameless sorcerer eons ago - no. It's only an egg. But oh, if it were more, the stories that could be told...
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From the galleries, Eschewing the advice, Trusilwyn doesn't cram up to the front but seeks refuge in the back. It's less crowded back here, the more veteran of the weyrs inhabitants finding themselves. They've seen it all, possibly a dozen times over, after all. With quiet nods and murmured words, True finds herself a seat in a shadowed corner.
From the galleries, Emani looks from Trusilwyn to N'thri, expression rapidly becoming rather displeased. -She's- not the one who's supposed to be entirely left out of the conversation. After all, look at her. But - that's fine, there's eggs to look at. As True leaves, she shoots a hard look in the girl's direction, then back to the sands, stoically.
From the galleries, Asoelian's unable to hide that brief grin that comes from spotting Kaiel abandoned by his once-neighbor. Though too soon she's following the process of the woman to her newest seat. Only to resume scanning what remains of the crowd as she resettles her arms over her chest and quietly sinks back into her seat. Her curiosity apparently saited, it's time to watch the eggs again, and the rapid flicker of her eyes over the sand-lumps is her attempt at gaining a count on the current number.
Siramyth crouches, finally heaving out another egg, while Arisvath - ever the doting sire - uses his forelimbs to carefully tuck the sand about it like a blanket. It's only then that he backs away, giving the onlookers their first glimpse of the latest addition.
=========================== Mysterious Mansion Egg ===========================
Like an impressive parquetry, the surface of this egg has a fine, glossy quality that covers its wood-hued shell. It's not the most remarkable-looking egg, but there are a few intriguing little shades and shadows here and there. Although the whole thing appears to have been made of carefully inlaid wood, there's a segmented quality - partitioned by different patterns and slightly different shades like the floors of numerous rooms in the same house. Between a few of the rooms are tunnel-dark paths that wind bizarrely across the shell, delving like shadowy back passages from apex to base and around the center, from one faux-room to another.
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From the galleries, T'ren gives a nod as the boys disperse leaving Jondeval sitting on his own. Oh mean brownrider, ruining their fun. As Trusilwyn invades his shadowed corner he offers her a nod of greeting.
From the galleries, Unsurprisingly, N'thri drops his voice once Trusilwyn's out of earshot. Not being as stoic as Emani, he leans slightly to peer toward where she winds up, his eyes following her all the way over till she's seated. Then, since there is that whole clutching issue, he looks toward the sands again.
Siramyth tilts her head coyly towards Arisvath, making a soft noise of approval. Then another egg slips on to the sands and the gold turns her attention away, covering the newest egg in a thin spray of sand.
========================= You're In Our World Now Egg ========================
Oceanic blue coats the surface of this egg, five splotches of color rising from the depths of the egg to break the surface of the cobalt hue. Though for the most part they resemble, in some vague fashion, those representations of landmasses scattered upon nautical maps, there appear to be a few glaring differences. Here, a smoking volcanic plain, the lurid red of lava almost glowing. There, a vast forest, all a-glow with neverending fire. Upon one smallish island of color, aged white is picked out against stark tan in the suggestion of a dragon's skeleton. And overimposed upon it all, just the faintest whisper of color, an overlay, as though millions of dots are brought together, irregardless of differences in hue or shape, to wander the fictional landmasses together.
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Kiora's expression is thoughtful, now, and she keeps careful track of Siramyth's progress. "I wonder how many more there are? It might be a bit bigger than last time, right? Maybe? I don't know how that sort of thing goes."
From the galleries, Faelan spies Jondeval, and from that, T'ren. She grins, and leaves her spot to bounce over to his shadowy corner and right into his lap. "Hi!"
From the galleries, Trusilwyn nods at the brownrider, finding herself a seat quickly enough. She pulls her feet up to rest on the bench in front of her, wrapping her arms around her knees. In a gruff note, she says, "So. A gold egg."
R'hyn, pointing at each egg in turn, appears to be counting. "That's nineteen, now," he notes, glancing back at Kiora. "That's not many fewer than last time -- and she seems to be still going quite strong. Regardless, it's already a good clutch, I think."
Evening twilight disperses and the true darkness of a winter evening settles in fully. A light wind ripples the air, chasing a few stray clouds across the sky. The winter air is cold and bitter. A thin, seemingly permanent layer of snow and ice covers the ground. (17F, -8C)
Siramyth pauses and examines the sands, looking over her progress thus far. With another snort of approval, she digs another hole in the sand, pushing the newest egg into it when she's pushed it out.
============================== Ups And Downs Egg =============================
One of the smallest on the sands, this little egg is dappled with a grid of of lavender and robin's egg. Tiny figures scramble up and down the surface of this egg, ever-reaching for the apex. Slick swift chutes in bubblegum pink drop the unwary, depositing them closer to the base, while cheerful teal ladders reward the virtuous with an easier path above. Despite slips and stumbles, the motion of the figures yearns ever upward, scrambling and climbing toward the glimmer of golden reward.
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From the galleries, Just as T'ren is about to say something to Trusilwyn, he ends up with a child in his lap. He blinks down at Faelan, one hand going up to the knot on his shoulder, "Uh, hi?" Not really sure what to do about the young girl he glances over at Trusilwyn, a confused sort of pleading look on his face as he mutters out, "So it would seem."
From the galleries, Faelan doesn't seem to notice T'ren's confusion, or doesn't care. As he puts a protective hand over his knot, she laughs. "I won't take it again, or at least not tonight."
Siramyth peeks up at the galleries briefly, looking pleased with the attention. Then she seems to grimace, lowering her head to the sands as she lays another egg.
============================= Frozen In Time Egg =============================
Purest of silver so white it almost appears to be translucent, it settles upon the whole of this egg in a heavy case. Freezing everything within its grasp to a near blue-tinted sheen. Crystallized patterns form along the corner and spread downwards, each point connected to the one above it until a near seamless and breath taking web of crystallized lines forms. Each so subtle however, that the egg itself appears as though it were simply made of overlaying hues of pale silver atop even paler blue. Not only does the egg look near translucent, but also as though it is about to melt at any moment upon the heated sands.
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From the galleries, Jondeval looks towards Faelan somewhat condesendingly from his lofty age of eleven turns as he follows her towards the shadowy corner. Deciding to be the proper role model he takes a seat in a spot near the others that has an unimpeded view of the eggs below and he takes count "That gold egg doesn't look very big to me" he mutters in a very unimpressed matter. "Actually, I think it looks smaller then Igen's last gold"
From the galleries, The murmurs of ooos and aaaaahs shared between Yasmin and her friend Olwyn do not carry too far, and attentive to the clutching any potential Istan verses Fortian rivalries seems to go unnoticed by the pair down in front.
Kiora's expression brightens a bit more as she spies the Ups and Downs egg. "That egg's a little pink, I think. How cute. And that's -- oh, twenty-one, now! That's only four or five less than last time, I think."
From the galleries, Faelan eyes Jondeval from her place in T'ren's lap. "Like you'd know."
"And that next one," R'hyn indicates, looking pleased. "I like how pale it is. Nifty."
From the galleries, Kaiel apparently finds nothing about the most current eggs to comment on... or he wasn't in the mood to talk to his remaining neighbors now that his chattering companion had deserted him. As Jondeval and his friends are disbanded, he smiles to himself, glancing over toward T'ren and his companions. In doing such, he notes the child he'd seen before in the living caverns... where she'd shook snow on him. Another faint smile which is followed by his return to watching the sands as yet another egg appears.
Another egg rolls out on to the sands, bumping to a gentle stop against two others already laid. Siramyth prods it briefly with her nose to make sure it's alright, and then moves on, nosing about for another warm spot.
============================== Fairy Ocarina Egg =============================
Rich navy blue sweeps over this egg's surface, the color fairly even throughout -- it does darken into shady splotches of black at almost neat intervals across the surface, however, and one appears at the narrower end, outlined by a murky ring of silver. It's nothing splendid by any means, but there is a certain charm in its simplicity.
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From the galleries, Jondeval scowls at Faelan "I was there wasn't I? My mum was posted there so we got to see all the hatchings" He doesn't add 'so nyah' at the end of the sentence but the tone leaves no doubt that he would have if there weren't adults around.
From the galleries, Emani's watching the eggs and talking quietly with N'thri - though there's not a lot of exclaming over the eggs for her, she is paying attention - sizing up each new egg seriously.
Siramyth coils up on the sands, her tail snaking about a large clump of eggs and depositing another colorful lump against the sandy pile.
========================== Stealth In The Night Egg ==========================
Shadows slip seamlessly along the rounded portions of this egg. So dark as to appear near illusive, the shadows curl about the edges and dip down from domed top to depthless bottom. From afar, the egg would appear to simply be shaded a near sound shade of inky black. Though upon closer inspection, lighter shades of black and gray, and even tones of midnight blue make up vague shapes that appear to be moving towards a central point on the egg, and it's within this particular point that all of the points merge, forming into a small, nearly obscure triangular shape.
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From the galleries, Joline comes up the stairs and out the tunnel from the living cavern.
From the galleries, Faelan doesn't look impressed at the older boy's boasting. "Too far to tell anyway." She sticks her tongue out at the boy, and jumps off of T'ren's lap, to disappear into the crowd.
From the galleries, T'ren seems to have become a child magnet. Jondeval's comment is caught and he gives a noncommital shrug to it. As the two kids start snipeing back and forth he winces, "Okay, no need to start a fight now."
Arisvath's tail snakes towards Siramyth's, nudging it encouragingly as Siramyth heaves and pushes to deposit another egg into the hot, pale sands. He has a long, low hum for the gold - who is beginning to look increasingly tired.
======================== Rousing Game Of Hopscotch Egg =======================
Streaks of pastel stand out against a black-specked gray surface, tangling in a mess of pale, colorful lines. Chalky pink brightens into broader lines of orange near the widest part of the egg, punctuated by swirls of cyan or smudged yellow. It's an unusual mishmash of colors, topped off by a rather large and thoroughly uninteresting smudge of muddy brown.
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From the galleries, Faelan heads down the stairs to the anteroom.
From the galleries, O'den comes up the steps from the anteroom.
From the galleries, Jondeval is already decidedly disgruntled at having to sit down and be quiet and now he has to bear having a girl sticking her tongue out at him? Jon opens his mouth to say something back but at T'ren's words he settles back down and directs a scowl at the departing girls back. "Kids!"
Several shallow depressions still remain in the sands, and Arisvath, apparently satisfied with these, settles himself down to watch. Meanwhile, Siramyth crouches, labouring tiredly over the latest egg, which is hurriedly half-buried in the sands once laid.
=========================== Ancient Strategies Egg ===========================
The first thing noticed about this egg is its size - medium. The second is the mottled pattern of khaki and mahogany that marches in alternating steps across the shell. Upon closer inspection the grid reveals inlays of color within each square, from gleaming oak to burnished ebony, laid out as deliberately as the Weyrleader plots strategies for the next threadfall. There's a sense of restrained conflict to the egg, a stylized battle where no one is injured, no blood is spilled, and the imperative goal is to control the center.
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From the galleries, T'ren looks visably relieved once Faelan has hopped down and scrambled off. He lets Trusilwyn sit quietly and turns his attention to Jondeval, hands idly going through his pockets as he does so, "Kids indeed," he mutters out and then a sharp curse is let loose, and he half rises to try and see where Faelan has disappeared to, "That little," he grumbles, "she did it again."
Kiora clasps her hands again, looking up at the galleries with an expectant expression. After a few moments of searching through the crowd, she gives up, her smile returning as two more eggs arrive. "I'd forgotten how much fun this was."
R'hyn follows Kiora's gaze, but doesn't remark on it; instead, he smiles. "It is good fun. Not as much as hatchings, but still... exciting. I do like that latest one," he adds, indicating it with his head.
Siramyth moves again as she shows off her latest clutched eggs and succeeds in revealing another colorful egg to all and sundry.
============================ Checkered Surface Egg ===========================
This medium-sized egg seems a touch more round than most of the others, its apex end a bland ecru. At first glance, there doesn't seem anything especially noteworthy about the egg except for a few seemingly random splotches of color. Upon closer inspection, a creative mind could see what almost seems to be a grid laid out on one side of the egg, misty red and black squares arranged as a playing field. A few round pieces seem to dance across the surface, jumping and moving from place to place, it would seem.
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From the galleries, Presently, N'thri laughs - albeit briefly, but it's a good chuckle nonetheless. "Yeah, that was really going out on a limb there," he says to Emani. "I mean, you even sounded almost really close to civil." He catches her hand with one of his and pats it with the other, entertained.
From the galleries, Jondeval looks over at T'ren curiously and actually looks mildly impressed at the language coming from the brownriders mouth "What did she steal this time?" he asks, apparently aware of the thieving habits of the girl.
Arisvath seems positively delighted all these eggs! And theyre his! Hes got a jubilant rumble for Siramyth, who seems too tiredly distracted to respond; shes just left another egg behind her on the sands, all gooey and soft.
=========================== Always Bet On Black Egg ==========================
This mid-sized egg is primarily a bright green - the deep colour of leaves in high summer. The green stretches from base to mid-shell, marked with a faint geometric pattern of square-shapes in a pale yellow. From apex on down to where the green begins, bright oblongs of alternating red and black form a circle round the shell, shades blurring just enough to give the impression of motion. If one examines the egg quite closely, there's a small shiny white ball - a tiny opalescent dot - that has come to rest in one of the black lozenges. Maybe it's your lucky day.
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From the galleries, Joline heads down the steps in the tunnel to the living cavern.
From the galleries, "Oh! Yasmin! Lookit that one!" Olwyn points to the checkered one and Yasmin leans, squinting to see before nodding, "Oh, how fascinating! One could almost miss the pattern." She elbows the weaver gently, "I wonder if you could turn out a rug to match, Olwyn? I bet you could if you set your mind to it."
From the galleries, T'ren settles back into his seat, too late to follow the little imp right now, and grumbles to Jondeval quietly.
From the galleries, Emani gives N'thri a look, eyes narrowed. She's horribly offended as she looks away with a sniff; so offended that she doesn't pull her hand from his. That'll learn him.
Siramyth flicks her tail, waddles forward a few steps, then examines the latest egg on the pile with a tired warble of pleasure.
========================== Atlas Of The Ancients Egg =========================
Too brown to be a gold egg, and yet still burnished to an almost metallic glow, this is one of the larger eggs in the clutch, beset with dark lines that ink peculiar patterns upon the antique, leathered hues. These patterns - random shapes, some connected, others floating alone within a sea of amber-struck waves - are darker, like ancient bronzen shadows, mapped out with imperfect precision through perilous effort. Charcoal-grey shadings mark out little patches within vast continents, like little settlements once determined to stand the test of time, though mottled dust now casts a ruddy glow upon the hopes of people now lost to the shadows of the past.
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From the galleries, Jondeval answers T'ren with the same curse he had picked up from the brownrider cheerfully. Then he says something else in lower tones.
From the galleries, T'ren just stares at whatever Jondeval just said and drops his head into his hands with a groan.
From the galleries, N'thri is totally schooled. Obviously. His expression doesn't remain merry or anything. "Which pastel-y one anyway?" he adds abruptly, squinting at the Sands.
Kiora's attention is caught by the atlas egg, and she 'ooh's faintly yet again. "That one's really pretty, I think. I really like it." There's another peek at the galleries, and then she peers after Siramyth again.
R'hyn counts, again. "That's twenty-eight. And I think she's nearly done?" He looks positively bursting with pride.
One more egg makes its way on to the sands. Siramyth noses it gently towards the larger group, then sinks on to the sands, apparently spent.
============================== Candied Paths Egg =============================
Whimsical figures of half-formed children dance across the surface of this medium-large egg. A path of bright primary colors traces along the twists of the curving shell, providing a refuge through the sweet distracting troubles that surround. Pastel mountains dusted with snow-white sugar spring up and murky caramel bogs wait to trap those who stray. Twisting canes of red and white and translucent colored suckers lurk at the edges of sugary forests.
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From the galleries, Jondeval brightens visibly at T'ren's discomfort and leaps off of his bench and scrambles in the direction taken by Faelan "Hey wait up!"
From the galleries, Jondeval heads down the stairs to the anteroom.
"Twenty-eight?" Kiora looks quite bewildered by this, taking a moment to count the eggs herself. "Twenty-nine, now, and -- well. I think she is." She bounces on her heels again, hugging herself around the waist. "What a clutch!"
From the galleries, Emani waves her free hand idly in the direction of the Hopscotch egg, not really looking to see if N'thri's following her. "That one over there," she says, impatiently. "Oh - hey - that it, then?"
From the galleries, Kaiel lets his eyes rove over the mass of eggs, counting them, though his words are barely audible. "Twenty nine? What's wrong with a round thirty?" Snorting to himself, he shakes his head, looking around for the woman he'd been talking to earlier. Spotting her as she stands and heads toward him, he grunts faintly before withdrawing his markpouch. Handing over the money he owes for his lost bet, he waves the woman away as she says something, his attention once more on the sands and the occupants.
R'hyn gingerly steps around the eggs to rub Arisvath's lowered headknob. He glances back at Kiora, grinning. "It's a really good one. Twenty-nine new dragons, to help fill out our ranks. Great. Really, great."
From the galleries, Asoelian hears those last calls and repeats the tally of 29 silently to herself before she pushes herself up from her seat and begins the attempt at making her way down to the tunnel that'll draw her into the living cavern. Quickly doing her best to avoid getting trapped in, given the heat has long since birthed a faintly dry taste in the back of her mouth.
From the galleries, Yasmin and Olwyn give a small bounce where they stand as it seems to be concluded. "A fine clutching!" Yasmin says to her friend, who agrees with a nod. The pair stand there, lingering and commenting over the various patterns, perhaps gaining more inspiration for weaving and embroidery.
From the galleries, "Oh," says N'thri brilliantly, a sudden blink going toward R'hyn as he tries to listen to the Weyrleader's words. It doesn't work. "I - guess so? I think so? How many were there, then?" He turns to the scary brownrider from earlier to get an answer.
Kiora scoots towards Siramyth, tripping just as she reaches the gold but falling on Siramyth's proffered snout. "I'm so proud of you! Everyone back home will be so excited to know." What with the whole 'laying the good clutch after she's gone' aspect. She beams back at R'hyn, stumbling again as Siramyth tilts her head to croon in Arisvath's direction. "It's /wonderful/. They did great."
R'hyn, peering up into the galleries, mutters something inaudible beneath his breath, and smiles toothily at Kiora. "I'm sure they will be," he agrees, quietly. "She all right? Not too tired?" Arisvath's tail snakes out to twine with Siramyth's, as he echoes her croon.
From the galleries, Emani is helpful, noting to said scary brownrider with a sugar-sweet smile, "He can't count." She turns back to eye the clutch itself, then the queen. "Siramyth is looking pretty good - tired, but good. Eggs are lookin' pretty decent too."
From the galleries, Asoelian heads down the steps in the tunnel to the living cavern.
From the galleries, Rocking back, a muffled yawn escapes from Iker's throat as he stretches out the kinks from bleacher seating. "Well, well - twenty nine," he mutters inside a chuckle, glancing around at the thinning crowd. Some dark expressions tame his smile, a reminder of politics that he hardly fathoms. Rolling to his feet, the young man swings his arms in an outlet of pent up energy and hops down a few rows to get a better glance at the eggs. Even after a few years at the Weyr, he is still a bit giddy at the sight of dragon eggs.
From the galleries, O'den heads down the stairs to the anteroom.
From the galleries, N'thri gets a gruff response of, "Twenty-nine," to which he nods. The brownrider probably wouldn't have said anything if Emani hadn't been there; despite her presents, he goes stalking off directly as N'thri digs a tattered hide out of his pocket. "Pretty decent," he repeats, looking sideways at Emani. "As opposed to what?"
[Continued in the next log]
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