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|Nightwatch Weyr > Hatching Sands > [HATCHING] Seven Shine the Shiners|
|Posted by: giftwrapped Apr 9 2012, 01:23 PM|
| There were times at Nightwatch where it was almost possible to forget the inundation of terrible eldritch horrors and really start believing the fact that the island was a tropical paradise. The thought passed I'saac's mind as he watched the sun dip beyond the rim of the caldera, painting the Weyrheights summer colours and casting the beginnings of the long shadows of dusk across the Hatching Sands. The warmth of summer was beginning to fade, and as the sky faded from blue and pink to warm, dusky purples, a cool breeze stirred the sands, ruffling I'saac's hair and making Ellibreth lift her head and snort in contentment.
That feels nice, she remarked. It gets too damn hot here in the summer.
"Tropical islands, Ell. That's what they do," I'saac answered absently, scratching the green's shoulder and leaning against her as she shifted to look at her eggs.
Remind me never to clutch in the summer again, then, she answered. I'll have to do it during the winter, when it's almost cool enough for this to be pleasant.
"As soon as you figure out how to regulate your ovulation, just let me know. I'll convert it to use for humans, sell the secret to healers, and we'll be the richest greenpair on Pern."
There was a comfortable silence for a moment, then, rider leaning on dragon and the pair of them watching the shadows lengthen on the sands. There was a long, calm moment where everything was still, and then I'saac blinked, frowned, and nudged his dragon gently. "Ell," he said quietly, "Did you see that?"
It looked like one of the shadows moved, yes, the green answered. There was silence for a moment as both rider and dragon watched the shadow intently. Just a few days before, Mirith's own clutch had spilled its four dragonets onto the Sands. If Ell's eggs were beginning to break, it would be no great surprise to anyone. But still, it could just as easily be a trick of the light...
More silence, and then I'saac made an excited noise, punching Ell on the shoulder. "No, it's moving! That one - there - one of the little ones is rocking!" He pointed emphatically at the Waker egg, which was indeed beginning to rock in quick, excitable little motions, the dragonet inside making faint but emphatic chirping noises. "Ell, get the Candidates! At least it's not a midnight, Hatching, right?" Everyone would be just about finished with dinner, and evening chores would likely not yet have commenced. It would be a lull in the bustle of weyrlife. A good time for a Hatching, if ever there was one.
Ell hummed excitedly, eyes whirling a rainbow of delight and anxiety, and bugled an alert to Descanth and M'ska, who were still probably at the feeding grounds. Candidates report to the Hatching Sands, she called, not particularly loudly but certainly firmly. My eggs are hatching.
|Posted by: Nozomi Apr 9 2012, 01:44 PM|
| Rochelle bloody well loved the cooler weather. It meant chores were easier to get through, people became a wee bit less stressed because they were no longer melting out their body weight each hour of the day. Clothing became a little longer, a bit brighter to keep the cheer up, and if the crafters area became too hot, all it took was a step outside.
Not to mention it looked like it'd be a lovely night, absolutely lovely. On her way to the riders weyrs, the glasscrafter took her sweet time getting there. Sassy perched on her head, the duo wandered the halls until a very distinct voice twinkled through her brain.
Candidates report to the Hatching Sands,
My eggs are hatching.
Oh. Sassy blorted with enthusiasm (where had he learned that sound?), squeaking in her hair so it tangled and mussed, free of the braid she usually tied it back in. Rochelle made a frustrated noise, her hand waving at the flit who'd just learned how to between. He popped away from her batting hands, reappearing a few feet away before going 'screeee' and fwumping down the two feet onto the ground.
Rochelle scooped him up by his scarf, nose pressing close to his head. "Go to the room." She sent over visions of her bed and Sassy's little pink pillow. He squeaked, licked her nose, and disappeared, leaving her mess all mussed and firelizard-kneaded.
On her way to the Sands... well, she was not good with getting it back into order. Nevermind! At least she wore some presentable clothing, enough that she could brush the mussed hair of as wind or the firelizard that caused it. Right. Yes.
Eggs and dragon mother, one she bowed to because, haha, she was about to kidnap one of these babies. (In theory. Spins asked if people had been left standing before. Had they?)
"Good evening?" And yes, it was, a lovely evening. Worthy of a smile even, followed by an anxious wriggle. Rochelle scooted off to the side, eyes trained on the enterence for the few Candidates she knew.
|Posted by: Pamelot Apr 9 2012, 02:57 PM|
| The cooler weather around Nightwatch, and the gentle wind definitely evoked some sighs of relief among the riders, the weyrfolk, and pretty much everyone else. Mira was shamelessly skipping chores for the most of the day, and now, after dinner, she was sitting under a tree in the Weyrbowl, plucking out a little tune on her lute she and I'marin were working on. The working title was "Another One Bites The Dusk."
Life was good.
Candidates report to the Hatching Sands,
My eggs are hatching.
Where there was a red-headed girl with a lute only minutes ago, there was nothing. Mira was sprinting towards the Sands with impressive speed, a lute clenched in one hand, and the biggest smile on her face. "They're Hatching!," she exclaimed to some girl who was staring at the literally dashing Harper. Mira didn't give a shit if Hatchings were routine. It was Ellibreth's clutch and she's been tapped for it.
Shortly before the entrance to the Sands, Mira slowed down, so she jogged into the cavern instead of running into it full-speed. Surprisingly, she wasn't the first here, but who gave a shit. Mira bowed to Ellibreth (THE first clutching green, might you imagine?) and said an excited "Hello!" to her and her rider, put the lute on the floor away from the sands and scooted to stand besides, "Rochelle! I didn't know you were Tapped!"
All of that was delivered with a huge 8D.
|Posted by: giftwrapped Apr 9 2012, 04:36 PM|
| [POSTED FOR RUBIX BECAUSE HER LIFE IS FULL OF EMT AND BUSY.]
She'd lost track of time. She was SUPPOSED to get off just before dinner, but the evening meal had certainly begun by the time Tessi stripped off her gloves and apron, washed her hands (twice, just to make sure there was no leftover blood) and pulled the tie out of her blond hair. A glance down at her chest made her huff. "At least I wore black this time," she quipped at the other Journeyman. He laughed, tossing his own apron and gloves on top of Tessi's. Their patient had come in bleeding heavily, barely hanging on to consciousness after an unfortunate brush with some Deep One, possibly a very very decayed Despair. The two of them had managed to stabilize him before a Master took over. Everything was still touch and go, but Tessi and her partner were free to leave, finally.
"Guess I'm changing before dinner," she went on, chatting comfortably with the young man until... humming. Hatching. "Has to be Ellibreth, right?" she squeaked, eyes lighting up. There weren't any other clutches on the sands right now, as far as she knew - at least none that were ready to hatch. And she'd been tapped! She didn't bother bidding her companion goodbye - she simply bolted.
Tessica was good at moving quickly. It was something you learned early when you were a Healer's Apprentice - if they said jump, you'd better be back on the ground by the time the word was over. No time to waste when people's lives were at stake. As such, she'd gotten back to her room, changed (being covered in delicious-smelling blood seemed like a bad idea for a hatching), and was on the Sands practically before she knew what had happened. Trying to keep herself from TOTALLY grinning like a fool, she dipped a polite curtsy in the direction of the clutch mother, but her eyes were all for the silver eggs. Once she'd looked her fill, though, she shuffled aside, clearing the door for others and looking around for Silva. It'd be nice not to face this totally alone, after all.
|Posted by: giftwrapped Apr 9 2012, 05:00 PM|
| I'saac watched the Candidates with a smile that more or less reached from ear to ear, nodding at each as they filed onto the Sands. Ellibreth snorted amusement at each greeting and bow, inclining her head each time one of them curtseyed or bowed in a quiet acknowledgment of them. Yes, yes, all of this was very ceremonial or something, but the green's attention was still on the eggs. A few of them were rocking now, though it was the Waker egg that was certainly moving the most.
After a moment or two a tiny pip of a crack appeared in the side, followed by a little nose poking through it enough to break shell and membrane. Two nostrils eagerly sucked down air, then the muzzle withdrew, and there was the noise of an industrious little dragonet chipping away at the eggshell. Ell leaned down to nose the egg as the little creature inside peeped and chirped and honked quietly to itself. Cracks spidered away from the initial break, the tiny muzzle reappearing just as Ellibreth's nose ghosted over it. The pair touched muzzles for a moment, and then the egg shattered, an astonishingly petite creature rocketing out of it, hitting the ground and tumbling until it bumped Ell's leg.
Ell snorted in surprise at the little thing, who then tipped its head back, opened its mouth, and went "SQUAWK!" in a voice that was positively astonishing for such a small dragon.
That done, it flared its wings and shook off, drying hide lightening to the point where its colour became obvious - blue. A tiny, tiny blue. Honking cheerfully, he looked around and then stood up, tripping over his feet as he tried to walk. After a few seconds he worked out the 'legs' thing and trotted over to the rest of the eggs. Walker was shaking now, and the little blue plopped his rump down in the sands, looking at it, opening his mouth, and screeching as loud as he possibly could.
Hey. Heeeeeeeeeeeeeey. What are you doing in there?
|Posted by: Sil Apr 9 2012, 05:28 PM|
| [[OOC: I apologize in advance for how bad of a post this is. Pneumonia sucks children.]]
Evening felt so wonderfully cool against her skin. The tropical heat left her feeling so sodden all day, and even a Turn later, it was hard to get used to after the dry furnace that was Igen. She really couldn't wait for autumn to fully set in, and for the weather to be a little more moderate. The transitional seasons- spring and autumn- really were superior.
Yithel was taking advantage of the cooler weather to sit outside and rebraid her wet hair. A quick dip was really what she had needed, scrubbing the dirt from the day off her body with sweetsand until it felt like she had also removed an entire layer of her skin. She would get something to eat, and maybe even get to bed early. That would be a luxury beyond luxuries! It made her smile just to think of it.
Finishing her braid and closing her eyes, the sanctity of Yithel's mind was quite abruptly invaded by an unfamiliar, firm voice. Candidates report to the Hatching Sands. My eggs are hatching. It wasn't a loud or angry voice, but it was one that brooked no argument, and one that YIthel had been waiting to hear for what felt like an eternity. Finally, the eggs were hatching! Her stomach was doing flips as she stood on surprisingly sturdy legs to take inventory of what she needed to do. Go to the Hatching Ground. That was about it. Good thing she had braided her hair. She wouldn't want her future dragon to see her so... undone.
She could see the figures of other Candidates making their mad dash towards where the seven eggs lay waiting, watched over by the proud mother. One day she would write a fine ballad about it, but not today. Today her mind was in a tumult, dashing first one place and then the other. There was no time to sit and reflect and calm down though. Every minute away from those precious eggs meant a minute she was not seeing a dragon hatch- a dragon that could be /hers/.
Yithel was not the first, to which she felt some disappointment. She /liked/ being first. It showed initiative. No need to be rude though. She bowed to Ellibreth, though her eyes were firmly glued on the gently shaking silver eggs. Soon, soon... Yes, there it was! The first egg revealed an almost comically tiny blue with a voice that was certainly outsized. It didn't look like he was in a rush to Impress, instead looking over at another clutchmate, as of yet unhatched. Well, that was frustrating, but she could wait. Yithel had waited this long. A few more hours weren't going to hurt.
|Posted by: Ferret Apr 9 2012, 05:42 PM|
| I'saac had been very, very clear: I'marin and Brietath could only attend the Hatching if they were quiet.
This was not the natural state for either weyrling. Brietath was just naturally loud and I'marin approached nearly everything with a certain amount of noisy boisterousness. But this was important. I'marin's best friend and one half of the Harper Eagles were Standing today. I'marin could stand being quiet for a few hours.
And it would do you some good to learn some patience, Brie, he added. Hatchings at Nightwatch were not the joyful Weyr-wide events that they were in other Weyrs. They were quiet and solemn, often closed to people who weren't specifically invited. I'marin heard that, in other Weyrs, all the dragons would hum when the eggs started to crack. It wasn't like that here. It was life on the edge and that meant not advertising weaknesses.
News traveled by human lips here, whispers susurrating around the corners until they reached the ears of those who listened for it. Rochelle and Mira were standing. I'marin had to be there.
For the second time in her life, Brietath was at a Hatching.
Admittedly, it was coiled up in the Stands with I'marin, watching the eggs with wide-eyed fascination. In some vague way, she knew she was looking towards a possible future here. But the future seemed a long way away, as far away as the moons of Pern. YOU need to learn patience she mocked I'marin, eyes still on the eggs.
What's taking them so long? Did I hatch this slowly?
You were among the last. You and Komaketh.
Brie grumbled but quieted down. Her excitement rose again quickly when the first egg hatched, revealing a talkative little dragonet. He sounds like a songwherry stuck in a vise, she commented.
Shh, Brie. You promised to be quiet.
|Posted by: lithle Apr 9 2012, 07:11 PM|
| Spins was in his room when the call came. He'd finished his own meal, and was settling in to feed the little white hatchling flit he'd aquired. He was calling it Echo, at the moment. The name had lasted at least the last two hours. It'd been Forge, Ghost, and Mirror so far. It would probably have yet more names before he simply grew tired of naming it. It was still weak, fragile, pathetic, and so, in his way, he loved it.
It took another sliver of meat from his hand, and the call came, and he nearly dropped it.
The hatching. He thought of J'den, of course. There could be no other thought at such a time. Memory swamped him and he sat very still, not moving, not obeying the call.
And then, all at once, he laughed, that harsh, barking noise, and he was on his feet.
The hatching. And maybe he'd be slit from shoulder to hip by some hungry dragon's claws. It happened. J'den had told him about a girl who'd died at the hatching when he'd impressed to Passith.
And wouldn't that be a way to go? Killed by your own bondmate. He stood, moving quickly now. Who was he to cower in his room? No. The fight was outside, and whatever the fight was, he'd be there.
He arrived at the sands at a run, and bowed to Ellibreth in a gesture that could only be described as over-dramatic. Taking his place with the others, he studied the silver eggs, his lips twisting into a wild grin as the blue hatched, his loud call cutting through the solemnity.
So, this was it. Game changer. He shifted, as he always did, a small but constant motion.
|Posted by: Nozomi Apr 9 2012, 07:21 PM|
| I'marin was there!
So was Mira and she was awesome, but I'marin was there in the Stands! She managed to throw him a quick wave before grinning over to the other half of the... Eagles. She knew there name in there, she honestly did, but there were eggs and she'd apologize for not remembering his band name later.
She'd been mentally redeemed.
But there was an egg cracking, so all she did was lean into the smaller girl for a moment for a bit of a nudge, nothing dramatic or crazed. The blue decided to be adorable things, like peck his way out, make noises at his mother, and then go BOOM, right onto the ground.
The urge to say "AWWWW SO CUTE" was ridiculously powerful. She kept her mouth shut, all but squirming where she stood. "It's so tiny," she hissed to Mira, eyes bright and just - so cute! And honking or - or whatever it was that noise happened to be. Rochelle just stared. Baby dragon! She hadn't seen them right out of the shell before.
Shards, if she was the first one out, she'd be making a bloody racket too. Get the party started or something.
|Posted by: Meesh Apr 9 2012, 07:49 PM|
| Tag: Another Candidate (See bottom paragraph- anyone can take the cue :3)
Silva had been sitting under the shade of 'her' tree, quietly whittling away at her dragon figurine (the
Candidates report to eh hatching sands. My eggs are hatching
Oh, that was nice. Another hatching. Nightwatch sure had a lot of them lat-
Silva jumped up, sending whittling materials and one very annoyed firelizard flying. Slowing down only momentarily to apologize to Forest and give her quick instructions to take the materials and head home, Silva half sprinted, half skipped her way to the sands. Oh god, she wasn't usually half this childish. But nothing could stop a big dopey grin form spreading over her face as she ran, hands instinctively smoothing out her shirt, fixing her hair, and discarding carving knives before she reached the sands (Mother weren't too fond of knives, though Silva doubted anyone she passed would be too happy by the flying weaponry)
OH shards she was late. One of the eggs had already hatched- a HUGE red- oh wait, that was I'mar and Bri-something, the older candidate she had heard had impressed a while ago. what was he doing here? His red looked big enough to practically clutch herself! (Okay, well not really, but Silva was excited here) Excited eyes scanned the sands, noting the one broken Waker egg. Oh, so she was a little late.
Goes to show for being on the other side of the weyrbowl so soon to the hatching
Silva bowed to Ellibreth, resisting the urge to hug the huge green, before taking her place among the rest of the Candidates. Turning, she tapped the person next to her on the shoulder. "Has anyone impressed yet?" it didn't look like it, but never hurts to be sure.
|Posted by: Pamelot Apr 9 2012, 08:31 PM|
| Eeeee a tiny blue eeeee! Mira leaned back towards Roche, "Look at him go!"
I'marin was there, too, and Mira waved at him enthusiastically before turning back to the Sands. Fuck yeah, Harper Eagles! She watched the little blue plop down and leaned towards Rochelle, "Look at him go!" There were some excited little arm-motions to go along with that. She was smiling, shardit.
Maybe that was Badassth. Her or Rochelle's, she didn't know. If so, he was teeny-tiny, and cute, and noisy as all get-out.
Also, Mira kind of regretted the decision to leave her lute by the Stands. Some appropriately dramatic music to follow along with the hatching would definitely be nice. And potential Badassth seemed to have an excellent singing voice. Kind of screechy and dragony, but very, very loud.
It was a good start.
Silva's question got a little puzzled look and a lifted eyebrow. "Nnnnope. Not yet, anyways." Who the shards was she? Well, someone tapped to Stand for this clutch, but other than that? Nope. No idea.
|Posted by: tuathade Apr 9 2012, 08:58 PM|
| M’ska? The eggs are hatching.
The sound that M’ska made in response was not a word, but could perhaps best be rendered as “asdfasfkjdsflkjs.”
Are you coming? he asked Descanth, when he could think in words again.
No, silly. There’s going to be baby dragons and Candidates everywhere – they don’t need another adult-sized dragon around getting in the way. You go congratulate Ell for the both of us, and I’ll come get you once everyone’s finished.
Fortunately, it wasn’t a long walk (or run, in this case) from the feeding grounds to the hatching sands. Still, M’ska wasn’t as fast as he used to be, and by the time he got there, there was already a tiny noisy blue wandering around the Sands. Not wanting to disrupt the proceedings by just strolling straight over to I’saac, he discreetly hopped up into the stands and made his way over to where I’marin and Brietath were.
“Evening! Got a friend on the sands?”
|Posted by: Ferret Apr 9 2012, 10:25 PM|
| Tag to Tua for M'ska!
AWWWWWW. Just... AWWWW. That little Blue was adorable! Someone had clearly gone into the egg and taken away most 'dragon' and replaced it with pure voice. Actually, it reminded I'marin a lot of Mira. Speaking of the girl, she was giving him an enthusiastic wave. I'marin returned it and waved to Rochelle, giving them both a thumbs up for good measure. Shouting things across the Sands was frowned on, but he gave a gesture for LUCK.
Second training was useful for something, at least.
Oh, and he kept one cautious hand on Brie's jaws, because she was considering 'talking' back to the little Blue. "Shh. I don't want to get thrown out because of you, Brie. Or because of me either. It wouldn't be like Sassy. You'd just distract and possibly scare some babies," he told her.
And then suddenly M'ska.
I'marin jerked in surprise, worried as fuck that he and Brie were going to be removed. But, nope. M'ska was just being M'ska: polite, but slightly creepy. "Evening, sir. Yeah, my two best friends are out there. Mira's the one who appears to be mostly hair and Rochelle is the one with..." Was it appropriate to say 'amazing rack' to someone? Probably not. "Rochelle," I'marin finished instead, pointing both women out.
Brietath, meanwhile, performed her best 'nosy dog' act, which meant snuffling at M'ska's clothing and pushing her head against his hand. She wanted skritches and she wanted them NOW.
|Posted by: giftwrapped Apr 9 2012, 11:03 PM|
| The sound went on for longer than it probably should have, the little blue making a definitive point to make the noise right up until the Walker egg shattered and a round wet shape that seemed too large for the egg from which it had come splayed itself out, hissing emphatically at the little blue, who shut up with an immediate, "Eep?" Whatever the new hatchling was, it was dark, and the pair seemed oddly-mismatched: tiny blue and larger, fat dark thing, who was still too wet to be identified by colour yet.
There was a tense moment where the two of them looked at each other, the newly-hatched dragonet regarding its sibling with an expression of disdain as it struggled to get its feet under it, the little blue watching it with his head tilted to one side. The moment his clutchsib, spreading its wings and hissing annoyance, finally seemed to balance, the blue bounced, bumping into the other hatchling and sending it sprawling. This elicited an immediate noise of dismay and annoyance from the Walker hatchling who surged up, covered in sand, and headbutted the blue. Hard.
With a yelp, he went nose-over-tail straight into the Binder egg, which for the moment seemed to ignore him entirely. Scrambling up, he looked back at his larger sibling, who snorted and nonchalantly groomed the sand from its shoulder. Underneath the sand and drying wetness was a shade that was unmistakably red. Snorting once at her brother, she moved straight for the assembled candidates at a trot. Hers was here somewhere, and there weren't too many choices. Good.
She had no interest in searching through some few-dozen morons to find the one she was looking for.
Her blue sibling had picked himself up off the Sands, looking at Ellibreth with a vaguely accusatory expression, but when his clutchmother did nothing to stop the Walker hatchling, he gave up. That job done for the moment, he chirped to himself and reared up on his haunches, standing in the middle of the remaining five eggs with his head cocked to one side. Who was going to be next? He would encourage them if need be.
I'saac, meanwhile, edged around the Sands, waving frantically at M'ska and pointing at the two babies. Blue and red! he mouthed delightedly. Our babies!
|Posted by: Nozomi Apr 9 2012, 11:19 PM|
| And then there were two! Two babies and - and one did not seem too happy. Understandable, the little thing had just been shrieked at, no matter how cute.
"It's not completely off tune," She murmured in a ridiculously delayed reaction to Mira and her adorations of the little blue. "Mostly lungs and happy."
Her attention dragged back to the little mini-showdown between the new dragons. Itty bitty blue and the darker hatchling all... cuddly. Probably not a good idea to consider a creature that could still kill you as an unbonded dragonkin 'cuddly' but, still! she winced at the bouncing, the bumping, and then... a headbutt? Did all dragonettes do that or did it happen to be just a red thing? Maybe a typical reaction to have a cheerful, if loud, sibling send you onto your ass in the middle of the heat and in front of at least ten people.
"Brie heatbutts too. Do you think that might be a red thing? ... Do dragons headbutt things a lot? And she's coming over, look." The last word came out in a hiss, directed all at wild-haired Mira. The blue was tiny and cute but far enough away that he was... well, further away then the little round red thing bustling closer. she didn't look like a mauler but Nisah in the Kitchens also didn't seem to be a horrible cook. You could never tell.
|Posted by: giftwrapped Apr 10 2012, 12:23 AM|
| Hatching. There was a hatching.
She hadn't been tapped. That meant nothing to her, at this point. She had waited turns for a day that she knew now was not coming. Ever since the gather, since Qu'an had looked at her, sent her off the Sands...whatever the Weyr's problem with her, it didn't matter. Rilyehli had waited long enough. There had been seven tapped for the seven eggs, certainly. But that mattered naught to Rilyehli. She knew what she wanted, and she knew how she was going to get it - and if that meant she needed to take what was hers, well. That would present some...difficulties. But it wasn't out of her reach.
Nothing was ever out of Rilyehli's reach for long.
But she wasn't stupid enough to make a move at the outset. She would wait, bide her time, stay just outside the Sands. Better to not attract attention. If asked, act like a healer had sent her. She knew what she was doing. She knew where she was going and what she was doing - she had been planning it since she had been turned away from Matanuth's clutch. And now was the time. One of the old greens - thirty at least, now, and no doubt there would be some window of opportunity. But she was patient. Patient and silent as the open grave. She would know when the opportunity presented itself.
Any doubts that might have been in her head were long gone now. This was what she wanted, and if she wasn't given what she wanted, she took it.
[NOTE: Rilyehli is NOT visible or noticeable to anyone on the Sands. I just posted this here so she will be where I need her when I need her. As far as y'all are concerned, this post never happened. <3]
|Posted by: Meesh Apr 10 2012, 12:42 AM|
| (Gift that post sounds ominous XD)
Tessica is tagged
The stranger had barely begun to speak to her when Silva saw him, the singing blue. "Baaaaaaaaw" she couldn't help but give out a coo of admiration. That was the most adorable creature ever~ But what was with the wailing? Maybe it was trying to wake up its siblings, or somehwat?
Ah well. not that it mattered. It could just be pretty energetic. "Thanks" Silva said in distraction to the girl who answered her question, looking with interest as the next blobby thing began to hatch- a brown? Definitely a brown. She gave a half frown as the two began to squabble, remembering with a shudder the stories she had heard of Xenath and Ceylinth's clutch. Were these two going to- no, they seemed fine already. And that brown....its hide was getting a lot lighter. Another red, maybe? Silva gave a grin. Red. What a pretty color.
A flash of movement caught her eye and the candidate half turned to see a familiar face in the crowd. "Oh, Tessica!" Silva gave a wave to the other girl "The day's finally here!" Silva gave a very out-of-character cheesy grin as she trotted over. Oh god, maybe hatchings had a weird affect on your brain or something. Silva never gave cheesy grins like that. Something told her she'd be giving a lot more of them today, however
|Posted by: giftwrapped Apr 10 2012, 02:00 AM|
| Hmph. No....no.
The red stopped briefly at Silva, sniffing the girl, cocking her head to one side with her eyes flashing green-blue with curiosity...
And then snorted, gave a little shrug of her wings, and walked right past her and Tessica without a second thought. No, no. Not what she was looking for. Not awful, though. Just not what she was looking for. Yithel, on the other hand, got a single long appraising look, and then a snort of disgust. No. Definitely not.
For a moment after that, she paused, looking up at the red dragon in the Stands like she had only just seen her. Well aren't you pretty? she remarked with an expression of mild amusement, flicking her tail and inclining her head briefly to Brietath. Good looking red, though of course this one was better looking.
Even if she was shaped in a way that might lead to the phrase "dragonloaf" some time in the near future. The red continued on after a moment, stopping right next to Mira. She stared at the redheaded girl for a good, long moment. Then she snorted and shoulder-checked her. You're in my way, girl, she remarked, without much in the way of malice. And then...
Right, Rochelle. Glad that didn't take long, because I'm starving already. Eyes swirling rainbows, the red pounced the rest of the distance between herself and her bonded, landing cheerfully at Rochelle's feet with her tail in the air and wings flared out to help her balance. You can call me Kibeth. Come on, let's hit that food before the rest of these idiots get there and take it all!
Meanwhile, the Waker blue had turned his attention to two of the larger eggs, staring intently at both Weeper and Thinker as they started to rock.
[Red Kibeth to Rochelle]
|Posted by: Meesh Apr 10 2012, 02:10 AM|
| Tag, Rochelle (Because I have to, really
She held her breath as the red got closer...closer....and then snorted and walked on, So close! An inner part of Silva told her she should be disappointed, but to be honest she couldn't help but smile again as Red-ith sniffed curiously at the other red. This brought the red count to what...three? four?
As the Red pounced another girl- a Candidate Silva recognized, but didn't personally know, her eyes swirled rainbow. Oh, first impression. Silva trotted over, giving a nod to the girl and red "Congrats to the first impression. She looks like a beautiful girl." Silva couldn't help but dart glances at the singing blue as she said this. Now who would he impress to?
But ah right, congratulations first. "Maybe we can chat later- she must be hungry" Silva nodded to the red before returning to her place at the sands. One down, six to go. For the ten thousandth time that day she hoped with all her heart Ellibreth had chosen correctly
|Posted by: Nozomi Apr 10 2012, 02:52 AM|
| For a moment, rochelle thought that the round red would be Impressing on Mira and all she could think was Mira and her dragon were going to match! This gleeful image died the second the new girl in town decided to be all sassy and should-knock Mira, but still, it had been fun while it lasted.
The glasscrafter eyed the red with no small amount of suspicion, bracing herself for the impact of getting head-butted or tail whipped while the small girl continued to make her rounds among the Candidates. Funny thing was, those eyes stared back and a voice came to her head. Right, Rochelle. Glad that didn't take long, because I'm starving already.
A dragons voice, not the sort of hallucinations brought on by Blight, and then rainbow eyes taking black of what had been just a sashaying dragonets stare. She and I'marin were going to match oh shit. Instead of smacking into Rochelle or dive tackling her like she'd heard of some babies doing, the red pounced, landing an inch shy of knocking her down. She had her tail up high, like a happy canine, and wings spread out, still partially covered in egg goop. Gross. But hers.
You can call me Kibeth. Kibeth continued to squirm, tail twitching. Come on, let's hit that food before the rest of these idiots get there and take it all!
"Food." Rochelle said outloud, blinking down at that round red dragon. Someone came up and talked to her, mentioned food and starving and something about congratulations, but she left before either dragon or human could react, and neither of them were particularly inclined to do so. There was something she could only describe as pure joy attempting to burst out, a flood of happiness and glee and all of those other things that went hand in hand with a love so hardcore she didn't quite know how to process it. so she stared. And said, "Uhm."
Why so much quiet? Really, now? Food. Hungry dragon. I can smell it. Whether she could or couldn't through the sand and goop was clearly not up for negotiation. They would eat. They would eat now. Kibeth heaved a dragonets version of a sigh and was about to head butt Rochelle for good measure when Rochelle crouched down and squished her into a boob-tastic hug, careful to avoid the bits with sensitive wings.
"Food! Yes. Food. Can't have all your other active siblings eating it while they're still trying to get out."
Preemptive strike against the stupid. Kibeth snorted and leaned into the hold for just a few seconds before she squirmed free. Mira was thrown a bewildered expression before the pair started heading towards the food, Kibeth slightly in front but pressed close to her human anyway. Rochelle let her lead for now. She'd take over later. Right? Kibeth's mild amusement said 'no'. How fun.
|Posted by: lithle Apr 10 2012, 08:02 AM|
| As the little blue all but dragged one of his siblings out of his egg by voice alone, some of the buried, forcibly ignored tension went out of Spins. Already, he'd been smiling, but now the smile had actual humor in it. Yes, little blue, Spins knows how you feel. Being a wake while the rest of the world sleeps and refuses to play is the curse of the insomniac.
He watched the newly hatched dragon with open curiosity. He'd only seen the barest glimpses of the reds around the Weyr, and now there was one watching the hatching and one, well, hatching.
The tussle between the two dragons, complete with headbutt, surprised a laugh from Spins, a loud bark of amusement probably not appropriate for the given occasion. He managed to get it under control and, for a second at least, even held still. He was a good candidate. Yes. Please give him a dragon instead of throwing him off the sands. He needed one so he could go kill things.
Rochelle's impression brought the smile back, she was the only one he knew on the sands, and he owed her. With the return of the smile came the constant, impatient shifting of a man who hated stillness. It was beginning to develop into a miniature version of pacing. Two sidesteps to the left. Two sidesteps to the right.
Spins was with the tiny blue. Wake up eggs!
|Posted by: tuathade Apr 10 2012, 10:00 AM|
| Awwwwwwww adorable red dragon. Two adorable red dragons, actually, the baby on the sands, and the one currently all up in his personal space. M’ska obligingly lent a hand to a good thorough scritching for Brietath, because when a weyrling dragon begged for attention it was hard to ignore. He nodded politely as I’marin pointed out the two ladies on the sands, and while I’marin was distracted he sneakily slipped Brietath half a meatroll from his pocket.
What? Brietath was from Matanuth’s clutch. That made her practically family. It was his obligation to spoil small weyrlings when he got the chance.
He waved cheerfully back to I’saac, who appeared to be speaking Excited I’saac Sign Language. Fortunately, M’ska was fairly fluent in Excited I’saac Sign Language – he nodded encouragingly and waved his hand at I’saac to keep watch on the babies. She’s going to Impress and you’re going to miss it if you keep looking up here!
And it was to I’marin’s friend. Funny how that worked out. “Congratulations!”
|Posted by: giftwrapped Apr 10 2012, 11:14 AM|
| Yes, Waker had decided, the Thinker egg was definitely the one in the clutch he should work on next. "Eeeeeep," he informed it loudly, though not quite as loudly as he had informed Kibeth's egg. Instead of horrifyingly loud, this time, he was just consistent, a solid stream of quiet noise as he nudged the egg. It nudged back, rocking so hard against the tiny blue that it sent him sprawling at least once. But the blue was a trooper, and as soon as there were cracks in the shell, he was poking his nose in them, picking at them and chirping happily.
Or, he would have done that if the second his nose came too close to the crack and punctured membrane, there hadn't been a truly ominous rattling growl.
Waker was a lot of things, but he was not stupid. Mostly. Instead of pushing his luck with the Thinker egg anymore, he turned his attention to the other egg that had been rocking. The Weeper egg seemed to have stopped for the moment, but that wasn't a deterrent to Waker, who climbed right up the egg, settling himself on the apex with all four sets of claws and staring intently down at it. Crooooooon. Happy blue dragon croooooooon.
Now uninterrupted, the Thinker egg decided to finish what it had started. The hatch wasn't near as dramatic as Kibeth's, or as untidy as the Waker blue's, though. A long crack appeared in the shell, which then fell neatly in two pieces as the dragonet inside flopped onto the Sands, then got to its feet slowly, snaking its head toward the assembled Candidates and fixing them with eyes whirling uncomfortable shades of orange and red.
Dark. Incredibly dark. A hatchling that size and that dark could only be one colour.
I'saac, whose attention had gone back to the dragons when M'ska waved at him, tensed slightly, gripping hard at Ellibreth's shoulder. But the green simply crooned with delight at the little dragon. Hello little black! Welcome to the world!
|Posted by: Ferret Apr 10 2012, 12:56 PM|
| Meatroll. Brietath gave a soft squeak of delight and performed a vanishing act on the treat. One second it was there, next second, it was gone. It was amazing that she even got a chance to taste it. And her next trick was to be adorable as she put her chin on M'ska's knee. Where there was one roll, there might be more.
She didn't have to be overly sneaky anyway. I'marin was completely distracted by the dragonets on the Sands. Another red. There was no doubt about it now: the mutant color was definitely here to stay. "Look, Brie," he whispered. "Another red, just like you."
Now that got the weyrling dragon's attention. As are you. Go find Yours before mine has an aneurysm, will you? In truth, the words weren't really needed. The newly-hatched red found Hers in Rochelle, much to I'marin's delight. Oh. Scratch that. Apparently Mine is determined to have a joygasm anyway.
FUCK YEAH, ROCHELLE IMPRESSED. And to a ladydragon, just as she had wanted. Judging from the way her new red had headbutted her noisy blue sibling, she was a firecracker, just like Brietath. Just what was it about reds and blues?
Ohfaranth, the Weyr was completely doomed, wasn't it?
Another egg hatched, as though responding to the noisy blue's call. This hatchling was dark. Far too dark for a blue or a green...
Another black. Another color that was here to stay, it seemed. I'marin watched hawk-like. Everyone had heard of the disaster at Ceylith and Xenath's clutch, the loss of the young blue.
Give him a chance to mess up before you go judging him, Brietath rumbled with annoyance.
|Posted by: Pamelot Apr 10 2012, 01:37 PM|
| "Nah, I think that's just Brie." Mira answered to Rochelle, "she seems like the type to butt heads with people." And dragons. Welp. Are dragons people?
She'll soon find out.
Mira's heart almost stopped when the round little red thing stopped and looked at her. Her thoughts, meanwhile, raced through billions and billions of gleeful images of Impression, whatever that felt like, and she and I'marin would have matching dragons which would be so awesome.
But then the sassy little red decided to be a moodkiller and bumped Mira out of the way. Mira's face fell for a couple of seconds, but then brightened once more before chuckling and letting out a "And you're a sass." And then the lovely red plopped herself at Rochelle's feet. Mira gave out a little squeal and some arm-waving in absence of a lute and an incredibly spirited "Congratulations!"
It made sense, really. Rochelle was sassy. The little red was also sassy. It was a sass congregation that was totally fabulous in every possible way. Sasstastic. Sasstasstic caucus of sassafrasses.
When the black hatched, Mira shuffled a bit nervously. She'd heard...things...about Xenath and Ceylith's clutch. A baby died on the sands that time, killed by the first black hatchling. Someone got half of their hand eaten by another hatchling. The red-eyed beast's presence was...unsettling, to say the least. She liked the tiny blue a lot more.
|Posted by: Nozomi Apr 10 2012, 05:28 PM|
| Rochelle was wrist-deep in some hatchling-sized meat scraps and half-turning in an impressive display of 'holy fuck what now' itis to see I'marin when there was that little craaaaack of yet another baby tumbling out. Kibeth, uninterested, paced next to her, little jaws of awful snapping. Rochelle's hand went out as if to feed her but when she saw that little black flopping onto the sands, she froze.
The last black killed another baby. If that wasn't horrible enough, the infant had already been Impressed, a rider at the ready, and no one else here had Impressed and--
Suddenly Kibeth's tongue and muzzle in her hand, grabbing the meat up with a ridiculous amount of enthusiasm, all but pouncing on her again. He isn't going to kill me. I could take him. The red edged towards the meat, eyes red with hunger and tail high in happiness, the tip flicking to and fro. She didn't bother looking towards her brothers, concentrating on that food that suddenly appeared in Rochelle's hand, snapping it up happily.
The only time Kibeth paused her impatient movements and fooding was to respond to Brietath, head tilting to give her a quick look. Mine will hunt him down after this party has finished. As she was? Really? If Kibeth could figure out a way to do something that wasn't as she was, it'd be done but she enjoyed being as she was - it involved food and interesting things and keeping Hers from panicking over the Black. No one important was going to die, yeesh, and even if they did, Waker was there to honk them into revival.
|Posted by: Meesh Apr 10 2012, 05:55 PM|
| Silva froze as the next egg came out- another of the mutant colors. But this black seemed hardly inclined to kill anyone. Rather, he was just sitting there looking adorable. Silva thought about her conversation with Tessica the week before with a wry grin, how she had discussed blacks. And now, one was on the sands! This was definitely a sign. Well, if a brown hatched that would be perfect, but a black was good too.
The girl who had impressed and her red seemed focused on the black- too focused to respond to her, though Silva guessed she couldn't blame them- they HAD just impressed one another, after all, so she let it drop. Maybe they could talk later. For now, the eggs on the sands... The blue looked like he wouldn't be impressing until all the other eggs hatched- it was nice to see him so caring towards his siblings.
But who would that black impressed? Like everyone else on the sands, the girl refocused her attention on the tiny creature. "You can do it, little guy" she murmured to herself. Or girl. Whichever it was. Blacks could decide their on genders like whites, maybe
|Posted by: tuathade Apr 10 2012, 06:01 PM|
| The tension was palpable as the black dragonet hatched. Perhaps it wasn’t one hundred percent justified… After all, the little black hadn’t made any aggressive motions yet, and Meleoth hadn’t harmed anyone since Vatath – at least that M’ska had heard.
And yet… Given that the only one so far had been murderous at Impression, the fact that this one’s eyes were whirling red-orange was a bad sign.
Descanth? I’d like you nearby, if possible. Not on the sands, just… nearby.
Coming, M’ska. And she would. The little grounded green was capable of remaining discreetly close by; it wasn’t that M’ska didn’t trust Ellibreth’s ability to keep control on the sands, but if anything bad did happen, M’ska wanted Descanth to be there to assist. Damage control, if necessary.
…When had he started hugging Brietath? It had just sort of been reflex to put a protective arm around the nearest baby dragon. M’ska startled slightly and let go, as if he hadn’t even been aware that it was happening.
Sorry, I'marin. You have an extremely nervous Blighted overseer hugging your dragon. Deal with it.
|Posted by: lithle Apr 10 2012, 06:59 PM|
| The blue dragon was beginning to seem almost unbearably amusing. His determined attempt to rouse the Thinker egg was funny by itself. But it was when he began to climb up the Weeper egg that Spins really lost it. This time, it wasn't a loud, barking noise, but a muffled half cough as he tried to swallow his amusement and pretend to be solemn. If only for the little blue's sake. He was, after all, trying so hard.
And yet, the second egg he'd called to hatch, the Thinker seemed no more appreciative than the first. It was the first black he'd ever seen, though he'd heard of the other.
Nasty business, of course. But it'd sure made the gossip interesting, hadn't it?
Coughing laughter faded, but the wicked, wolfish grin that took its place was no better. Last time he'd met a red-eyed dragon, he'd found himself tackled (though he'd learned that those particular eyes had been deceptive). Surely, this one too would make things interesting.
It wasn't that Spins wanted to see blood spilled, exactly. He was bloodthirsty, sure, but only in the sense of wanting to kill the deep ones. It was just that he knew, that, should the black decide to attack, he'd have something real to do. He'd get to feel alive, and the world would sparkle with the danger of the moment.
And he couldn't help but grin at that idea.
|Posted by: Ferret Apr 10 2012, 07:02 PM|
| ...what if that was the only way Blacks COULD Impress? What if they were somehow broken and couldn't form the entire bond by themselves. Like they could only manage to get over a bridge some other dragonet had already made? I'marin tried to ignore these dark thoughts, but it was very difficult to ignore them when Rochelle was the only one who'd Impressed so far.
That meant, if that was true, she was the only possible victim.
And her little red too.
Those swirling orange eyes didn't bode well.
"Blort?" Brietath blorted in surprise when a Not-I'marin-arm slipped around her. Actually, I'marin wasn't a particularly huggy sort anyway. But M'ska was. The red weyrling gave this careful consideration before pressing her muzzle against the man's cheek in a delicate nuzzle. In addition to dealing with someone else hugging his dragonet, I'marin would also have to deal with Brietath nuzzling the extremely nervous Blighted Overseer.
Ellibreth isn't worried! she informed both men, impolite as always in contacting another rider's mind. I think she's the one who'd know.
|Posted by: Sil Apr 10 2012, 08:34 PM|
| For one long moment, Yithel thought her life had been made. The red had hatched and had actually considered her. She had felt so certain... But then the red had given her a look that could only be disapproval and moved on. Well, screw you too. Clearly she had made a terrible mistake. Yithel's dragon was still out there somewhere, maybe even the noisy blue on the sands, though she wasn't sure how much she would like that. He seemed like a handful, and he had apparently taken it on himself to make all the other eggs hatch. They didn't all seem to like that- had the Thinker egg actually growled? Intrigued, Yithel leaned forward, trying to get a better view.
It's hatching was not terribly dramatic. It almost seemed... neat, precise. What color was it? The egg goo made it hard to tell. A green, a blue? No... It was a black, and he did not look happy. What had happened with the last black that had hatched? Yithel had heard that it had killed another dragon on the sands, and a dragon that had already Impressed at that. It had then bonded to the recently dragonless Weyrling. What if this black did the same? Only Rochelle would be in danger, but one was too much. She looked so happy, and although Yithel was still rather bitter that the red hadn't chosen her, she couldn't begrudge them their bond.
"What's going to happen?" She hadn't meant to say it out loud, but it just slipped out. She doubted anyone would answer, as focused as they all were, but if anyone could see the future, it would be nice to know what it held. Hopefully no deaths.
|Posted by: Dragonfire Apr 10 2012, 11:20 PM|
| The one awful thing about summer was that it got too warm, even at dusk, for a proper coat, T'nar mused as he adjusted his neckcloth (a rather sensible ascot, today) in the mrror. The waistcoat would have to chaperone his shirt on its own, tsk. There. Tie, vest, and trousers in full order, boots pulled on, and he was fully presentable.
He paused only briefly at the Weyr door for Adamant to take his customary position on his shoulder, and briefly touched the mind of the green lounging on their balcony, soaking up the last bits of heat as best she could. You're sure you wish to remain here?
She snorted, without moving a muscle. Don't be an old fool. Just because you should go doesn't mean I'm subject to the same rules. Besides, Ellibreth doesn't need a full gathering of us fawning over her babies like the overinflated hens else-weyr. She paused, her tail-tip giving a solitary flick. Pass on my well wishes. Go enjoy your diplomatic quackery.
He gave a low, single guffaw before resuming his course.
When he arrived at the sands - calculated, of course, to be just a tad late, neither seeming overenthusiastic nor totally uncaring about the new additions to their ranks - it was just in time to see the third egg crack open, delivering... another black. Hmm. A red, already impressed and well on her way to eating herself to sleep, and a blue, still milling about and being choosy. But the black, now, that was interesting.
T'nar was very, very interested in these new colour-types. What would they grow to be like? How would they best fit in to the weyr's rhythms? Where could they be poised to give them a better advantage in their battles? Questions that only time could answer, for now - but a turn or two was nothing, truly, and the answers would surely be useful in some fashion.
And this black, would it prove to be like little Meleoth, requiring the sacrifice of a life before bonding? Or had that just been the idiosyncracy of an ill-prepared field of candidates? Hmmm indeed.
He climbed into the stands, movements deliberate and purposeful, his plethora of questions tucked behind an impassive mask. He nodded to those nearby, gravely. "Good evening, Overseer M'ska. And I'marin, is it not?" The first to impress to a red; of course it was. After all, there was his red - with M'ska attached to her. Interesting. "I see I arrived just in time." There was a hint of wry amusement in his deep baritone - as if he were speaking of arriving just in time to catch a display of fireworks, or some other dalliance.
|Posted by: giftwrapped Apr 10 2012, 11:50 PM|
| The little black rumbled for a moment, still weaving his head from side to side in lazy curves like a serpent, undulating in easy s-curves as he moved from the eggs to the Candidates. His expression passed over them only briefly. This one, no. That one - no, that one...
His lips curled as he looked first at Silva, then at Yithel. No. These were all wrong.
Everything was all wrong. He looked briefly back at the blue, who had so charmingly screamed him awake, and Kibeth, who had already started all sorts of chaos and tomfoolery in people's heads, and - ah. There, finally. Standing back there, shy behind the rest of the Candidates -
He was unaware of the sound of running feet behind him, or the presence of a human until the hands closed around his shoulders. He turned with an ungodly screech toward the assailant, teeth bared, eyes flaring with starbursts of yellow and white as he bit at the hand that restrained his shoulders, only to find his head suddenly caught between a pair of hands, tilted up to look into fierce amber eyes in a face that wore an expression of triumph.
"Hello, little one," Rilyehli said, breath coming in short sharp gasps with the daringness of her stunt, the adrenaline of her own actions pounding her heartbeat in her head. She had waited for turns now - seven turns - killed her own brother for the chance at this, and now the black - this black - hers. Hers forever. "You're mine now," she murmured.
But the black repeated that unholy scream, oblivious to anything around him. Behind him, the Weeper egg hatched, spilling its contents - an enormous pale thing that for a moment looked too ghostly to be anything at all - and sending the little blue tumbling away. It didn't matter to him. All that mattered was that he was restrained. His eyes flared white.
LET GO OF ME.
The words were a roar, a cacophonous sound that rang across the weyrbowl at a deafening volume even as the black wrenched his muzzle out of Rilyehli's hands and went for her arm, tearing into her wrist and hand again and again, lunging forward and shredding her, destroying everything he could sink his teeth into. No, no, no, no, no, no! His voice did not once stop its constant litany of rage and disgust, even as the young woman screamed and fell backwards. In fact, with her head on a level with the black, it meant he could finish the threat. He snarled, shrieked, lunged -
A sharp pain in his tail stopped him, and he whipped around to find the Weeper hatchling, who stood with wings mantled and head up, making low, mournful noises. Pale under the wetness, but with dark edges to wings and headknobs, the dragonet seemed strange. Much larger than any of the other eggs that had hatched - was it a new mutation?
Brother! The voice was female. The drying hide was not a new mutation - it was a pale, greyish green. This is not the way to make a good impression. Her voice was level, simple, eyes impassive shades of stormy blue and deep maroon. The black bared his teeth, snarled at her, ignored I'saac and Ellibreth as they charged toward the fallen woman behind him. The green mattered now, and as she lifted her head higher, snorting emphatically, the black...lowered his head.
You are correct of course, Astaraeth. As much as it seemed to pain him to say it. Snarling, he shook himself, glaring over his shoulder at Rilyehli once more before hunching his shoulders and moving in the direction he had been before he had been so rudely interrupted. Nosing aside most of the Candidates, he approached the one who had been tapped as His. I am here now, and I'm all right, he said matter-of-factly. But she interrupted me. She was in grave error. It will not happen again.
Meanwhile, Rilyehli clutched her bleeding hand to herself, shock setting in as much as anything else as she realized that she had failed. The fact that she was likely bleeding to death meant little. She had failed. And they would kill her for that, she was certain. Exhaling a shaking sigh, she closed her eyes, willing herself to die before it happened.
And the Waker blue crooned at the enormous green - at Astaraeth - who crooned back and moved toward the Candidates without a second thought. She would find Hers now. Waker, shaking himself slightly, looked back to the eggs. Three left. Who would break next...? He cast a brief glance at Sleeper, which sat very, very still. He'd deal with that one later.
[Black Belgaerth to Adoptable NPC]
|Posted by: Meesh Apr 11 2012, 12:04 AM|
| The black looked at her. So close...would he pick her? No, he, like the red, moved on. Disappointment coursed through Silva, the feeling a new one. Ah well. Maybe a brown would still come from the remaining eggs.
She gave a gasp and a jump as a girl ran up behind the black, attempting to grab it. The black began biting and clawing at the girl viciously, and Silva hesitated, unsure of whom to help. On one hand, the girl was stealing a dragonet! On the other......
Memory flashed, of a younger, more firey Silva running towards the sands, eyes dead set on a beautiful green and gold colored egg standing on the edge. Of a red-eyed gold roaring in her mind, and banishment from the weyr. Of years spent regretting, not the foolishness of the decision, but how she had not been fast enough...
Silva sighed, recalling the day she had tried something similar. This girl was stupid in doing so, but Silva had no right to judge for a mistake she herself had almost made. But still, the dragon looked like it was killing her. Silva stepped forward, unsure of how to help, but was saved of doing anything else by the newly hatched green who pulled the Black away and to his true Rider.
And now there were five. A green, a blue, and three eggs. Please be a brown, please the girl thought fervently at the eggs remaining.
|Posted by: tuathade Apr 11 2012, 12:26 AM|
| Brietath was a very good dragon. And she was calming M’ska’s nerves considerably. He might have recovered from the Blight since that last disastrous Incursion, but that was Ellibreth’s clutch out there. Which meant it might as well have been Descanth’s clutch. His children, or godchildren, or… however you determined family to be when you got dragons involved.
“You’re probably right,” he agreed with the little red, flashing her a quick grateful smile. Ellibreth wasn’t concerned, and dragon instincts were better than human instincts on this… Right?
Someone else might have actually reacted to the arrival of the new Weyrleader. Someone else was not M’ska, who had been in possession of a peculiarly singleminded focus even before he started fighting Deep Ones, and who cared rather more about this clutch than about proper political protocol. His eyes did not flicker away from the sands – he let go of Brietath and gave T’nar a kind of half-hearted wave without actually looking up at the man. “One red Impressed, a blue and a black unimpressed. Everything looks good so far-“
And then motion, a sudden burst of motion, an unexpected intruder on the sands. M’ska with his scars and his bad leg did not move quickly over long distances, but he could make it to the low wall and vault it in one swift movement. From somewhere nearby, Descanth bugled in alarm, and the overseer followed after I’saac, making his way over to where Rilyehli lay bleeding on the sands.
|Posted by: Ferret Apr 11 2012, 12:48 AM|
| Of course Brietath was right! She knew more about being a mutant than most. Despite the lack of meatrolls produced, she offered M'ska another nuzzle before returning focus to the clutch. Or, at least, she would have had it not been for the approach of the Weyrleader.
That got her attention. In a vague way, she was roughly aware that T'nar was Very Important in the Weyr Hierarchy. At her age, it was difficult to comprehend the importance of anyone else beyond herself and Hers, but she was aware that I'marin held T'nar in some esteem. But that didn't really matter because, fuck you, she was Brietath and she had her own way of deciding ranks. She watched the man carefully, eyes swirling a peaceful green as she worked out what to do about T'nar's presence.
I'marin offered the new Weyrleader a smart salute. From the way his eyes kept getting dragged back to the Sands, the young man was obviously distracted but at least he was trying. "Evening, sir," he offered, along with a quick smile. "Just here to see my two friends Impress and let Brie see for herself what it's li--- Brie, what are you doing. That is not a thing you should be doing right now."
Brietath had finally decided what to do about T'nar. Slithering away from M'ska, the red weyrling busied herself by snuffling at T'nar's pants pockets. Did he have any meatrolls? If he hoped to compete with M'ska in terms of 'Important People', he better have at least two meatrolls. I'm hungry, she explained to I'marin. Look, don't blame me. It's those meat buckets over there. The smell awakens my bloodlust.
And so you are mugging people for meatrolls. That's not bloodlust, Brie, that---
Whatever else 'that' was would have to wait. The inhuman----indragon----screech from the Sands brought everyone's attention back to the little Black and the human clinging to him. Just who was that anyway?
"Fuck," I'marin said, leaning forward to try and get a better look at the clearly insane woman. Was someone so Blighted that they thought dragons were enemies? Was she just trying to kill ALL THE THINGS?
Now THAT was bloodlust.
|Posted by: Nozomi Apr 11 2012, 01:12 AM|
| Told you. Kibeth murmured when her brother looked to them. She mantled her sand-caked wings and hissed at him just as threateningly as she had to Waker, more than willing to get some chaos all up in this if he wanted a fight and--
--Well, fuck, that was way too much fight for one hatchling. A love for maiming and pillaging and all of that aside, having to be dive tackled by a human not your rider sucked. Even then! Had Rochelle tackled her, Kibeth probably would've bitten her too. The strange womans attack (for that's all it could be called) caught even Kibeth off guard. that enthusiastic wing action faltering to a half-mast of What The Fuckery. Her tail whipped from side to side, smacking against Rochelle's leg.
On the human side, Rochelle gasped when Rilyehi pounced, her bloody fist squishing around a bit of meat meant for Kibeth. "Oh, shit."
Something like that. Kibeth's eyes flared red-orange, her round frame pressing back to wind around Rochelle's legs like a feline, fierce and protective of her rider. People were doing things about it at least - Bellie Boy ran off and Impressed and a slew of humans had already started towards the bloodied woman. (She was brand new - numbers didn't quite rank high on the 'to know' list.) That would have not be fun. He's a pain in the tailfork but...
I hope they heal her and stake her out for the Deep Ones.
Rochelle didn't say the scathing, acidic words aloud. Kibeth didn't chastise her for it. The rage at the scene would come out later. Here, now, with the clutch parents riders there, her brother Imressed, and the woman on the ground... it was not the place. At least Rochelle knew that.
|Posted by: giftwrapped Apr 11 2012, 02:26 AM|
| Rilyehli, eyes closed, was still clutching her hand to herself when the rough grasp on her shoulder shook her out of some small part of her dim reverie. She opened her eyes slightly, found herself meeting the furious gaze of I'saac, and shook her head slightly. Her eyes drifted closed again and she groaned. "Faranth, just kill me," she said simply. It wasn't worth even trying to fight back at this point. If she survived this (and judging by the way blood was flowing from her arm, that wasn't exactly the highest of chances), they would stake her out for Deep Ones. There were worse ways to die...no, wait. There weren't.
Another, more vigorous shake forced her to open her eyes again, and this time I'saac shouted as soon as she looked at him.
"What the fuck were you thinking, you idiot?" Each word was punctuated by a shake, each syllable quivering with barely-suppressed rage. "What the everloving fuck did you think you were doing, running out onto the Sands and grabbing a dragonet? You could have gotten him killed. You could have gotten yourself killed. For fuck's sake, you almost -"
[i]I'saac, and the fact that Blue could hear Ellibreth's voice in her head startled her enough that she actually looked numbly up to the green, she's bleeding everywhere. You'll have plenty of time to figure out what she was doing when she's not dying from a severed artery. Severed artery. Was that what Blue had? It sounded right. She groaned and shrugged, even that small motion sending another wash of blood down her side.
I'saac let go of her then, looking over at M'ska as the other man came over. "She's - I guess we need to get a healer. Get her to the infirmary. Do you know how to make a tourniquet?" I'saac knew basic field medicine, but if he could rely on M'ska to doctor the girl, he could look back at the Sands...
|Posted by: lithle Apr 11 2012, 08:49 AM|
| As the woman came from nowhere to snatch the black, Spins stopped grinning. He had, only a moment ago, been wishing to see some blood spilled. And now the sands ran red with it.
In his defense, it'd been his blood he'd been thinking of, but reality was still echoing fantasy in a way that should have been disturbing. J'den would have wanted him to be bothered by this. His friend had ever been his external conscious, reminding him when things he found merely interesting should be calling up some emotion, be it empathy or disgust.
He wasn't even sure which of those he was supposed to feel, which emotion should be replacing what he actually felt, admiration for both the woman's daring and the black's guts. She'd tried. He'd fought. Spins found the whole of it awesome.
The black impressed, and Spins spared a moment of something like sympathy for the little dragon. Like the last black, he'd shed blood before impressing. Not his fault. Spins hoped no stigma attached itself to the dragon for an act of self-defense.
The woman was still bleeding. The hatching was still happening. Spins didn't know what to watch. The green who'd interfered still roamed the sands. She too, had been bold, taking charge when she found it necessary. The blue, set in his task of escorting the eggs to hatching, had now succeeded in three attempts. And despite all this, Spins found his eyes drawn to the woman spilling her life onto the sands.
At least he'd stopped pacing.
|Posted by: giftwrapped Apr 11 2012, 09:47 AM|
| The Weeper green was moving now, not with the predatory undulations of her black brother, nor with the exuberance and abandon of Kibeth or her blue brother (who was now staring intently at the Speaker egg like he expected something truly fantastic to occur). Instead, she walked with a purpose, head held high, regarding each of the remaining five Candidates. She paused for a moment to look at the red in the Stands, a brief glance over her shoulder at the woman bleeding on the Sands and those gathered around her...but that wasn't important.
She could feel Hers somewhere. He was here. She moved past the girls without even a second glance, an enormous pale creature drifting like a cloud straight for the one she could tell was her lifemate. He was staring at the spectacle the prospective egg-thief had made of herself, attention already gone from the eggs, but that was all right. Crooning, she twisted toward him, wrapping herself around his legs like a feline and whistling softly to attract his attention.
It is unlikely she will die, Spenser. The rest of them will sort themselves out. I think perhaps that you have more important things to address as we stand now. She paused for a moment, wry humour flaring blue-green in her eyes. Perhaps it is for the best that Belgaerth did not come too close to you; I would have been disappointed were it your blood on the Sands.
And that was it, a quiet Impression for a quiet green.
Behind her, as if to defy its blue sibling's attention, the Binder egg began to spiderweb with cracks.
[Green Astaraeth to Spins.]
|Posted by: lithle Apr 11 2012, 10:38 AM|
| When he'd imagined it, when he'd allowed himself to imagine it, he'd seen it as something like an explosion. The dragon (never given color or name or even a firm shape), long clawed and wild with hunger, lunging at him. Realizing, only too late, that they were bondmates. Himself, thrown to the sand, the sharp, familiar thrill of pain and adrenaline. The moment of recognition, perhaps, too late. Healers on the sands, and the hovering, familiar sense of the space between living and dying.
He hadn't bothered to give the imagined dragon a personality. He didn't care about that part. It wasn't that he didn't know they had them, he'd known and liked Passith. It was simply besides the point. Flying flamethrower, that was the important bit.
So the subtly of it, the twine of a green around his legs while he still watched the bleeding woman, the soft whistle and the whisper of her mindvoice, the slow insinuation of her mind within his own, it all came so sweet and slow that Spins, in his urgent, eager world, struggled just to recognize what was happening.
Me, Spenser. Astaraeth. I'm the important thing that needs addressing. Down here, Love.
It was a bit like running full tilt into a stone wall, a sensation that Spins, indeed, knew well enough for the comparison. She was there. Not an anchor, as he'd feared. Not the mindless tool/toy he'd wanted.
His soulmate. The joy of the moment, as he knelt to touch her, careful, almost reverent, as Spins finally found something he might love more than his own hurt. And even with that, the hurt, the memory of J'den, trying to explain what impression felt like.
Each in their time, Spenser. You know that. She nuzzled his hand, patient enough to let the hunger wait, to let him accept her before she pushed with needs. He died fighting.
A moment's pause, as she considered the question, giving it the weight she felt it deserved. Her head tilted, her gaze fixed on some distant, unseen point. It is likely. But I would wish to see us accomplish something first.
Spins pressed his forehead against her nose, unmindful of the smear of moisture left by her snout, just as he made no note of the tears that'd been running down his face. "Shards, how boring. The two of us on the sands, cuddling. C'mon, lets do something. Couldn't you have hatched first?"
A laugh, a thing without sound, only the whispering tickle of amusement ghosting through his mind. Lets begin by seeing to my feeding, shall we? And I must thank Belgaerth for not gutting you, however amusing you may have found it.
|Posted by: Pamelot Apr 11 2012, 01:00 PM|
| Mira was fully expecting the black dragonet to come and wreak havoc in the sands, and unlike the tall, pale guy who stood little ways from where Rochelle had been, she didn't find a hungry black thing that looked a bit too much like a sinuous, red-eyed predatory fish of some sort a good reason for smiling like an idiot. It was going to maul someone, she just knew it.
Except that she didn't expect someone else (where was she even [i[hiding[/I]) to come out and pounce the angry, toothy baby.
Her first thought would be to go and help the little terrible thing, but Common Sense intervened with a solid lady that's really dumb, even for you. So she stood there watching, with all color washed away from her freckled face.
And then, big green. Large green. Huge green. Wonderful green, because she somehow managed to calm the screaming black thing and make him go and find his person among the Candidates. Mira sighed, in relief. There was no need to bash anyone over the head with a lute, and nobody was going to get mauled.
Except for the attacker, who was already being helped and yelled at for being a sharding idiot by I'saac himself.
Meanwhile, the green walked off to that same pale guy who was grinning just a few minutes before and Impressed. Quietly.
What a lovely lady. Mira turned her head away from the greenpair, and back onto the sands where Waker was staring at another egg with all the Intent and Purpose.
Keep going, little guy. You're awesome.
|Posted by: giftwrapped Apr 11 2012, 01:50 PM|
| Waker, who was still staring intently at the Speaker egg, didn’t notice that Binder was hatching until it was too late and the shell had already split, the dragonet inside slithering out onto the Sands and resting there for a moment with eyes whirling a cacophony of colours. So this was what the outside world looks like?
It was another dark-hided creature, slick and wet and black in the gathering darkness. Faranth, the Sands ought to have been better-lit. At least Waker noticed as soon as the shell actually cracked, squawking indignantly and running immediately over to his clutchsibling, who snorted and cocked its head at the tiny blue’s arrival. Waker squawked again, making a loud eeeeeeeeeeeping noise and nudging roughly at the large hatchling.
The nudging inspired movement, and the dark dragonet yawned mightily, snorting sand and wetness out of its nostrils and getting to its feet. In the long moment the dragon took getting to its feet, the Speaker egg began to hatch as well, muzzle poking through the side, followed by a slim talon. Waker whistled indignantly, looking from one egg to the next. Stop hatching both at once!
A loud croon from the Speaker egg answered him, and Waker paused. Then he screeched delightedly. Someone else to talk to!
Meanwhile, Binder had finally gotten to its feet, and as it stretched its limbs, lifting its head to the sky, there was an unmistakable flash of pale blue across its chest. Not another black after all, just a blue. A large blue, from the looks of it. Yawning again, the Binder hatchling moved lazily in the direction of the Speaker egg. Waker was still squealing at it, and the larger blue huffed quietly, stepping in and nudging the littler blue aside and rumbling firmly.
Waker shut up with a soft churr and then snorted, turning his attention to the Sleeper egg. It hadn’t moved at all. And that was stupid. Plopping his rump down beside it, Waker emphatically said, “Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.”
The overexuberant sibling now out of the way, Binder crooned softly at Speaker, who crooned back softly and redoubled its efforts to hatch. The muzzle came back, then talons again, a hint of deep green shimmering through the widening gaps in the shell. Another female. Good omens for the weyr.
|Posted by: Nozomi Apr 11 2012, 04:35 PM|
| At least the clutch-mothers-rider had the right idea: rush the girl, shake her, yell at her, let her bleed out on the Sands until the surrounding area became clogged and thick with red. It was a good way to interrupt a hatching, really. Kibeth watched the ongoings with impassive olive green eyes, full and somewhat sleepy. She moved away from the food, just enough for Rochelle to start wiping off the sand and goop from her hide.
"You're messy." She flicked a bit of egg-goop-and-sand mixture from one of Kibeth's headknobs, nose wrinkled up delicately. Neither of them cared, Kibeth sending feeling of Smallest Violin Playing Ever through the new bond. Rochelle grumbled, half turned from the things on the Sands to see that huge pale green bond to...
Kibeth paused in her watching, attention on the three eggs-and-dragons. She coiled around Rochelle again, figurative hairs up on her little body as she puffed. Astaraeth. She hissed again. Why not? She was there, all green and creepy and - the green part wasn't the problem, color wasn't an issue, but she was different and creepy and wasn't that enough of a reason to want to avoid her?
That is the embodiment of all things that make you not want to put your feet near to the edge of the bed in fear of getting them bitten off. Kibeth resisted snapping her jaws at her sibling, instead catching Rochelle by the tunic and tugging. We're moving towards the chatty red and your friend now. We can watch my siblings from there..
We can't, Kibeth, you were just born and - Hey!
Kibeth released her, shaking her cute, chubby little body before she started making her way towards those stands, edging along the sides as to not get anywhere near the ones she didn't want. Rochelle hurried after, already scowling and muttering under her breath.
You're along for the ride, Rochelle. Hold the reins and look pretty. Love and understanding swept through the bond, though Kibeth did not stop her trek towards the Stands.
|Posted by: Meesh Apr 11 2012, 06:14 PM|
| Tag Rilyehli
Another green and blue. Now only one egg was left unrevealed. Please be a brown Silva silently begged it. Or even another black will do. Something large and male She hadn't even thought about wanting a certain dragon before, but now that she was on the sands, her preferences seemed to speak for themselves. She shifted from foot to foot, resisting the urge to pace. By the end of the day, Silva would be a rider.
But another thought came nagging into her attention, one that made her frown and distracted her from the hatching eggs. The girl- the egg thief. The clutchmother and rider had lectured her, but Silva didn't see anyone helpign the girl medically. A memory flashed tot he front of her mind- being kicked out of her original Weyr, and not a single frienndly face there to support her. The egg-thief was lying on the Sands now, blood dripping from her side. Silva frowned. The girl may have been an almost-thief, but she looked ready to faint! She hesitated a moment, looking from the hatchlings to the girl and back again, fist clenched, before conscious took over and she headed to the girl.
"Don't fall asleep. Stay awake, or you might not wake up- I think" Silva was on the sands still, but with her back turned to the dragonets. The one that was meant for her would understand if she turned her back to them for a moment, right? "I'm not a healer, but we need to get something on that wound or you could die." This girl had done the wrong thing, but that didn't mean she deserved a slow death on t he sands.
|Posted by: lithle Apr 11 2012, 06:59 PM|
| Spins, besotted as he was at the moment, may well have taken offense at Kibeth's hiss. Astaraeth was all things beautiful and charming and right. How could anyone dare hiss at her? He wasn't a man given toward anger, but he also wasn't afraid of confrontation. Even with a newly hatched dragon and her rider, who had shown him kindness.
Astaraeth's laughter, like the soft ringing of distant bells, soothed him. You are to worry about feeding me at the moment, yes? Hunger continued to echo through their bond and Spins was forced to admit that, yes, feeding Astaraeth was the priority right now. Grabbing a bucket of meat, he settled down next to the green, feeding her scraps of meat as fast as she was willing to take them.
Luckily, she had the caution he lacked in this matter.
Even as she took her first mouthful of meat, her gaze, swirling a much deeper green than her hide, followed her sister's departure. Temper, temper. Her mindvoice half a whisper, cool and subtly smoky. Well, do play nicely with that other red, at least. She's of a size to tear you to shreds, should she wish. And I have no wish to mourn a cluchsibling so soon.
With that, she shifted her attention back to the sands, where it appeared one of the candidates was looking to the bleeding woman. You see? She'll not die today. Though there may yet be more bloodshed with that one standing with her eyes turned away.
"Got another bloody minded sibling?" Spins asked, showing interest in the sands again for the first time since impressing. Not so much interest that he stopped feeding, though.
I did not say that. And Belgaerath is a dear. But accidents happen.
|Posted by: tuathade Apr 11 2012, 07:18 PM|
| Tag I’saac, Rilyehli, and Silva
M’ska nodded, a hand resting gently on I’saac’s arm. “I’ve got this. You deal with the Hatching. Go on-“ and this was punctuated with a gentle but firm push to get I’saac out of the way. He called out mentally to Descanth, then knelt at Rilyehli’s side. Tourniquet, right. Stop the bleeding. He wasn’t a healer, but back when he’d been a wingleader, he’d been called on often enough to run temporary first aid on injured wingmates until a healer could arrive. Stopping bleeding, stabilizing the wounded… Emergency treatment was something you simply picked up by necessity, after a while.
He took hold of the bloody, mangled arm, tore off a strip from the bottom of his shirt, then set about tying off the arm above the wound. Tight enough to close the artery, not so tight that she’d lose the arm… Not that M’ska could summon up a great deal of compassion for a girl who’d just endangered one of Ellibreth’s children. His touch was not as gentle as it would have been under normal circumstances, but neither was he actively going out of his way to hurt. Malice would accomplish nothing, and if the girl’s arm could be saved, then it would be saved.
You’ve got a visitor, Descanth remarked, slipping onto the sands and sitting down next to M’ska and Rilyehli. In her mouth she had clutched the sturdy white box that contained the emergency first aid kit they always kept on the Sands, precisely for situations like this. “Thanks, Descanth,” he said aloud, then turned and gave Silva ain incredulous look. Faranth, the girl was an idiot, or else just incredibly arrogant.
“Don’t turn your back on the dragonets!” he snapped sharply at her. “We’ve got one bloodied Candidate here, we don’t need a second – you do your job, let me do mine.”
|Posted by: Meesh Apr 11 2012, 07:38 PM|
| The rebuke was enough to make her frown, stepping back from the girl. Yes, the man seemed to be taking care of the girl now. Silva opened her mouth, prepared to make a hot (tempered, not sexual) statement before sighing and thinking better of it. "Fine" she said shortly. "I didn't know we got in trouble for trying to save lives here" this was said a lot quieter, though still within earshot. But waiting for a response was hardly wise, so she strode back to the sands, head held high.
The babies hadn't seemed to make much progress since she had turned away, with Sleeper still unmoving and the green and two blues still unimpressed. "I'm sorry babies" Silva murmured to them under her breath, guilty for leaving the dragonets, even for a moment. Not tat she would admit it to the man or his greenrider. Silva looked down at her hands and frowned- some of the girls blood had gotten on them. Trying to look discreet, she kneeled down on the sand, wiping her hands on the sand to try and take the blood off.
|Posted by: Sil Apr 11 2012, 07:46 PM|
| Clearly all these dragons were teases. The black had looked at her too, though he didn't look even remotely considering. He just looked disgusted. Had she been tapped for a clutch where every single dragon wanted to push her away? Two rejections stung deeply, and her pride was taking a beating, but Yithel straightened her shoulders to glare at the dark little thing.
And then the black was screeching, the noise making Yithel cover her ears as she tried to figure out what was going on. Was that idiotic woman trying to actually /steal/ a dragon? Yithel had noticed her before, and she threw off the numbers for the Candidates actually tapped. That meant she had snuck on the sands, somehow, and was now making her move. The black did not seem to like this, and if she had hoped that her touch would bring about Impression, it looked like she was terribly wrong.
Absorbed in their struggle, logically unable to do anything, Yithel did not notice the large green that hatched, though that was a difficult feat. There was blood spilling out now- so much blood, but it was all that woman's fault, and although Yithel wouldn't want to scar the mind of a baby dragon, a large part of her hoped that the woman would be hurt to the point where there would be no helping her. She deserved it. The black apparently agreed. It looked as if he would go for the kill. No one was going to step in? Were they all frozen by horror?
The previously unnoticed green came into focus. She was huge, so large that Yithel thought at first she was a new color. No, she was clearly a green, but she had a commanding presence and size that was apparently enough to stop her brother from killing the intruder. He even looked appropriately cowed. Well, that was amazing. Glaring once more at the girl (who was hopefully bleeding to death), Yithel kept her eyes on the three dragons on the sands, waiting to see them make their choice. The black, much to her own sadness, chose someone she barely knew, but the big green could still be hers... Until she Impressed to someone else. What was left?
Luckily, the eggs weren't going to wait around. The Binder egg revealed its contents, but once again, it was difficult to tell what color the dragonet actually was. Oh, a blue! And a nice color too. The Speaker egg looked like it would be next to hatch, the dragon inside looking distinctly green. But what of the Sleeper? It was so still, so very still. The Waker would need to work his magic on that egg. Yithel's hand rose unbidden to her mouth as she waited to see what else was coming.
|Posted by: Dragonfire Apr 11 2012, 10:05 PM|
| And four eggs left on the sands, still to hatch. It was a good clutch, for a green, all things considered. T'nar nodded at M'ska (not that he would see it), not at all concerned about the lack of propriety - it was hard to fault this particular man for any oversights, after all. "Very good." And to I'marin, he inclined his head again, giving a dismissive half-wave of his fingers at the salute. "Stand at ease; there is no need for great formalities at such an occasion, is there?" He let his eyes trail briefly to the searching black before turning back to the weyrling, giving him a shadow of an approving smile. "A good idea, I think, to give her an idea of what to expect if it turns out that she can produ-"
...She was sniffing at him. Why was she sniffing at him? He raised one eyebrow as he looked down at the red, leaning away just a little. Adamant, who had been watching the eggs hatching with the fascination of a toddler, mantled his wings and hissed at her. Those weren't her pockets to thieve! Ingrate! "...Does she typically cross personal boundaries like this?" T'nar inquired, his tone very polite. Oh, I'marin, if you knew any smithcraft apprentices, you'd probably know what that meant. If you didn't, it'd become fairly clear in three, two...
His head snapped up as the hatchling on the sands roared. Who was that young woman? Another candidate? Where in the world would the daft creature get the idea that it was a good idea to try and restrain a dragonet? I'saac was the candidatemaster, surely he would have drilled the candidates properly on protocol - and if he didn't, that was- No, no. Look at the numbers, T'nar. And hadn't he passed her on the way into the cavern? He vaguely remembered doing so - had paid her no mind, figuring that she was running some errand or otherwise on standby.
His eyes narrowed, lips thinned. "Excuse me," he said, perfunctorily, to I'marin and his dragon, and pulled out a pencil and a small square of paper from the pocket of his waistcoat.
K'in, incident at hatching. Alert healers. Send a guard to infirmary. She should not be left alone.
He folded the scrawl, and handed it to Adamant, who took it gingerly in his mouth. "Go. Find K'in." The brown gave a bob of his head and launched off his resting spot, quickly blinking between.
Only then did he stand and make his way back on to the sands, striding purposefully towards the woman and M'ska. "When you have her stable, M'ska, I can escort this thing to the infirmary," he said, offhandedly. "I've sent word ahead to have them be prepared."
|Posted by: Ferret Apr 11 2012, 11:48 PM|
| As a matter of fact, the only smithcrafter I'marin knew was his dad (who was not inclined to give him a hiding at this age). But he knew the tone: the carefully polite tone that often came before a storm of shit. "...no," he finally answered, lying through his sharding teeth and making a note to teach Brie about boundaries in the future; she was getting big enough that it was no longer cute. It was just invasive. "Sorry, sir, she usually almost never does this. It must be the excitement of the Hatching. Brie, leave him!"
Oh hey! A firelizard was talking to her now! Given that Brie's only experience with firelizards was Sassy, she didn't know what to make of Adamant's aggressive hisses. She whistled a greeting up to the little flit, completely ignoring the human politics going on around her.
What? No meatrolls? T'nar clearly couldn't have been important after all... surely not compared to the drama on the Sands. At least it meant she stopped snuffling at T'nar and gave him his personal space back. Who is that? she demanded, referring to the peculiar blue woman (who was, by now, more red than blue).
"I don't know, Brie. I don't know everyone," I'marin murmured, switching back to audible conversation. Sometimes mind-talking still took took much concentration. It looked like one of the Candidates----what was her name? Sila? Sylva? Sylvia?----went to help and M'ska glared her away. Welp. Nothing that I'marin could do.
Needless to say, Brietath was already bored of the human drama and focused on the new little red coming towards the Stands. Hello! I'm Brietath and this is mine. His name's I'marin, she greeted Kibeth. Only I'marin's hand stopped her from leaving the Stands then and there.
We're on thin ice already, Brie. Stay HERE. he hissed mentally at her.
Fine, be boring like that... mine says 'congrats' to you and Yours.
|Posted by: giftwrapped Apr 12 2012, 10:14 AM|
| Whistle cheep eep chrrrrrrrrrrrr!
Though it wasn't the ridiculous noise of her little blue clutchsibling, the Speaker dragonet was certainly making up for lost time in sheer quantity of sound. There had been no screeching yet, but she certainly wasn't holding back as she continued breaking her way out of the shell, a constant steady drone of sound that sounded more or less like a play-by-play. Binder simply watched her with tolerant amusement, and as soon as the shell split enough to allow a little green head, neck, and foreleg, he nuzzled her and turned away. She crooned, a little bit sadly, but that was all right. Binder had gone to find His. She would wait. And breaking eggs was exhausting, anyway. Letting out a hefty churr, she flopped down on the Sands and rested for a moment.
Binder, meanwhile, was approaching the Candidates. He had already felt the one he had been looking for out here, and it was just a matter of finding - hmm. A brief look over the line of Candidates didn't actually turn up the one he was looking for, which meant that - ah, right. Over there. Snorting to himself, Binder shook his wings out and trotted off to where His was being turned away from the woman who had tried to steal his brother.
He curled a lip in mild annoyance at her, but that was a human matter, and dragonets couldn't do anything about that. He had faith she would be brought to justice. Crooning low and happy in his throat, he stopped alongside his bonded and tilted his head so he was at eye-level with her.
Silva, he said in a calm voice, eyes whirling rainbows as he watched the streaks of red the other woman's blood left on the Sands, you were doing a good job, and I'm glad you went to help her. But you're a Candidate, and they will have Healers of their own soon. He bumped the young woman's shoulder affectionately, rumbling deep in his chest like a cat's purr. I am sorry I'm not a brown, but I think blue suits you better. It brings out your eyes.
On the Sands, the Sleeper egg was still failing to respond to the noises Waker was making at it. Well, fine then. Waker snorted and wrapped his front talons around it. If it wasn't going to come out of its shell to Waker's calling, Waker would open it his own damn self. Snorting, he began to chew on the little silver egg with extreme prejudice.
[Blue Saraneth to Silva]
|Posted by: giftwrapped Apr 12 2012, 10:25 AM|
| Tag M'ska and T'nar
Rilyehli didn't resist the tourniquet, per se, though she did hiss loudly as M'ska tightened the strip of fabric around her arm. There was someone else talking to her, but before she could give the chit of a girl the verbal hiding she deserved, the greenrider had sent her away. She opened one eye to glare at the man who was still doing his damnedest to save her (no doubt so they could stake her out for the Deep Ones) and noticed with mild surprise that the one who had been shaking her had actually moved away from her.
Not that it mattered, because one of the men they had recently elected as Weyrleader decided it was time for him to join the party. Blue kept her eyes open as the man approached, speaking to M'ska. Her lip curled, and she resisted the urge to spit at the man as he spoke. "This thing can take herself to the Infirmary," she snapped, though she doubted it would mean anything. But if they left her alone, she could get treated and flee. She knew how to live in the wilderness. There were bandits who would take her in. She could get away with it, if she had a moment.
But something was telling her she wasn't going to get a moment.
|Posted by: giftwrapped Apr 12 2012, 11:55 AM|
| The Sleeper egg, apparently having had enough of being chewed on, began to rock more violently. But the dragonet within seemed to be having some trouble freeing itself. It tipped over onto one side, shuddered violently - and it was hard to tell whether it was Waker's efforts or those of the baby within, but the thick shell cracked.
A moment later, two solid, sturdy hindlegs punched their way out of the Sleeper's shell, and kicked Waker right in the jaw. Sleeper was having none of this bullshit.
As the blue retreated, honking and creeling all the way, Sleeper freed itself the rest of the way, albeit with a casual and unhurried air. Why was everyone so impatient? The hatching would proceed in its own time, at its own pace. At last, in the shattered remains of the silver shell stood a powerfully built little white. This was no Estrith, feeding on a sibling to gain muscle mass, but simply a fine specimen of a dragon. Sleeper shook itself off, grumbling softly, then ambled in the direction of the Candidates with eyes already returning to a pleasant green. Looked like this one wasn't a mauler.
And also not a time-waster. Sleeper made a direct beeline for Tessica, not bothering to stop or even acknowledge any of the other Candidates with a sideways glance. Why bother?
Tessica, you would not believe how exhausting it is to break your way out of an egg. The voice, once heard, was distinctly masculine. He leaned up against her leg, the earlier grumbles turning into something rather more like a purr. Do you think I could convince you to carry me? Hopeful eyes. Hopeful rainbow-swirling baby dragon eyes.
His brother, meanwhile, had been sent off squealing, and for a moment ran blindly around the Sands honking plaintively, until he tripped over his own feet and went down, knocking his jaw on the Sands in an incredibly-undignified faceplant. There was a bit of a pause there while the little blue determined whether or not any permanent damage had been done, and as he lifted his head, he snorted and went charging straight toward the few Candidates that remained, a soft high-pitched noise whistling from him rather like a kettle left on too long.
Mooooooooooooooooooom, MOM did you see that? DID YOU SEE WHAT RANNATH DID? he called accusingly, not stopping until he had collided soundly with Ainmira's legs and coiled around her, glaring daggers at his white brother.
[White Rannath to Tessica]
[Blue Mosraeth to Ainmira]
|Posted by: Sil Apr 12 2012, 12:02 PM|
| Apparently little blue Waker was not going to be the only vocal dragonet from this clutch. Though she had not yet hatched, the Speaker was extremely vocal, punctuating her movements with various noises. It was kind of adorable, actually, especially with one of her brothers watching on. The effort soon wore her out though, and she lay on the sands resting. That left the Binder blue free to go find his bonded. Would he be hers? He didn't seem quite as haughty as his siblings. In fact, he seemed to know exactly who he wanted... and unfortunately, it quickly revealed itself to not be Yithel.
Silva seemed nice enough though, so Yithel gave a polite clap for their Impression, though she wasted very little time to watch their first few minutes as a bonded pair. There was still two dragons and an egg on the sand, and the Sleeper again was still stubbornly still. Please don't be a dud, please don't be a dud, she murmured to herself, hoping her mantra would protect against that, knowing that it couldn't.
Though she couldn't do anything, Waker apparently could. His strategy was more than a little unorthodox. Would chewing on the egg actually open it up? Should they step in and stop him? He could hurt his sibling! But Yithel wasn't going to be foolish. She wasn't going to run up and get involved unless she was specifically called to do so. Any of these three dragons could be hers, and though it was fascinating to watch whatever was in the tiny Sleeper egg try and hatch, she would not jeopardize her chance to Impress to do so. The tired green could be her future bond-mate. The noisy blue could be hers, or whatever was inside the still egg could be, if there was anything in it at all. What if the dragonet inside died? Would Ellibreth know? What if she had been called to the sands for nothing? Horrible possibilities were pouring through her mind now, and her sweat took on a cold feeling. Calm yourself... You WILL Impress. You were chosen.
Apparently she just wasn't going to Impress to the white that finally emerged from the Sleeper egg with two kicks of his hind legs, or to the blue that had so cheerfully helped all his siblings hatch. Those two quickly ran off to find their future riders. That left Yithel and the green. The green had to be her future bond mate, right? Right?... Anyone?
|Posted by: giftwrapped Apr 12 2012, 12:39 PM|
| Well, it was just the little Speaker green left, now. Huffing to herself, she stretched and made a single last attempt at the egg, slipping out of it and onto the Sands without much trouble. And for a few long breaths, she lay there, legs folded tightly up under her while she viewed the sand below her with an expression of thoughtful curiosity. Then, when she was done with that, she lifted her head and worked on getting to her feet. Apparently, this was a surprising amount of effort for the little green, who managed to stumble a fair few times before finally righting herself enough to get her legs under her.
And no wonder; those legs were surprisingly long for a dragonet, and she wobbled a few uncertain steps before her hindquarters gave up and she plopped down. She made a noise of mild indignation, then crooned quietly and straightened herself up. Well, this was her show now, she supposed, and the thought brought the slightest thread of yellow to green-whirling eyes. But no matter, the important bit was that her clutchsibs were safe.
And with that, she set off again, pausing on occasion to maintain her balance, but by the time she was finally in the area of the Candidates, she seemed to have improved her motor control a hundredfold. Though she wasn't quite as graceful as Astaraeth, her walk toward Yithel was deliberate, head held high so that she could investigate the Sands around her as she finally bumped lightly up against the young woman. I am glad you waited for me, Yithel, and there was no reason for you to get so nervous. We greens do not choose incorrectly, and my mother knew what she was doing when she picked the Candidates for this clutch. Even Belgaerth found his with no trouble - and Kibeth and Mosraeth, too. She crooned softly, then bobbed her head, a slight inclination that was strangely similar to a human nod.
You troubled yourself for nothing. And I am hungry.
[Green Dyrith to Yithel]
|Posted by: Sil Apr 12 2012, 02:52 PM|
| It was just Yithel and the green now. She stared intently, watching everything the little dragon did. The green was apparently not in any particular hurry, first examining the sand (what could possibly be so interesting), and then taking like what felt like hours to get to her feet. The reason became clear at the minute she was actually capable of standing- the green had astonishingly long legs. They looked difficult to walk and balance on, and the poor thing seemed to fall just as soon as she got to her feet. The poor thing looked distressed, but determined to make her way over.
Hopefully he was making his way over to Yithel. She was still not entirely willing to discount the dragon somehow passing her by for someone lurking in the shadows, because life was cruel and that would be the ultimate joke on her. She was even going to look over her shoulder to see who was behind her, who could be the real object of the green's determination, though that would mean taking her eyes off the dragon for even a second. Too much to risk.
Over time, the green's walk seem to improve. She wasn't exactly graceful, but she was moving without falling, which seemed like a feat in and of itself. She was curious and alert too. Though her path was leading her inevitably towards Yithel, she was sparing looks for everyone else, apparently trying to take it all in. Her path was so inevitable that it scarcely seemed to be true. Impression will be made in five, four, three, two...
I am glad you waited for me, Yithel, and there was no reason for you to get so nervous. We greens do not choose incorrectly, and my mother knew what she was doing when she picked the Candidates for this clutch. Even Belgaerth found his with no trouble - and Kibeth and Mosraeth, too. Her bump was affectionate, and the nod that followed seemed almost human.
You troubled yourself for nothing. And I am hungry.
Though she had known that it was coming, that this was the logical end to things, Yithel still felt dazed. She could only look at the green, take her all in. A name came to her mind as a gentle whisper. Dyrith. This was Dyrith, and Dyrith was hers, and she was Dyrith's.
|Posted by: Pamelot Apr 12 2012, 03:47 PM|
| ...and then, suddenly, dragon. Grand-slamming into her knees like nobody's business.
Mooooooooooooooooooom, MOM did you see that? DID YOU SEE WHAT RANNATH DID?
Mira - I'mir - just threw her hands around him and hugged him and laughed. Mosraeth unfurled his wings and hugged back, letting out a delighted little warble and sitting up on his haunches a little bit. Mosraeth was wriggling in the hug already, poking his muzzle here and there, sniffing and snorting like a baby runnerbeast.
Hey mom!Mom! MOM MOM! Mom!
"Mosraeth, I'm not your mom. Your mom's over there."
He stubbornly headbutted her forehead and crooned, Mooooommmm! I'm starving! I'mir was totally mom. Everyone was mom.
"All right, come on." I'mir let him out of the hug, and moved to pick up the lute. When she turned around, Mosraeth already ran off, screeching, towards the meat buckets. NO WAY was he letting Rannath have all the best bits!
The buckets obviously didn't expect a head-on collision with a charging tiny blue dragon, and fell over, spilling their contents onto the sands. Mosraeth flared his wings and hissed at them - buckets aren't supposed to do THAT - but then, making sure that the buckets were SAFE, attacked the contents with unmeasurable ferocity. Omnomnomnom
"HEY! MOSRAETH! STOP THAT"
He turned his head towards his rider, muzzle coated in sand and blood and all the gross things. But I'm HUNGRY, mom!
"You're eating sand, dumbass." I'mir grabbed his head and started wiping the sand and the gunk off the little blue's face, while he was doing his best to wriggle out and go back to eating the meat laying on the floor. There were some escape attempts, but they were unsuccessful, because it's very hard to run off when someone is holding you by the headknobs. "Would you just - stop - wiggling!"
She just wrestled him towards the other, still upright meat buckets. "Okay, let's try this again. Sit down, and I'll feed you." I'mir let him go, and Mosraeth squawked indignantly, but sat down none the less, eyeing the buckets with red-blue-green eyes. I'mir smiled in encouragement, and passed him some tiny pieces of meat. Mosraeth snapped them up with a speed that bordered on terrifying.
After they were done with feeding (much to Mosraeth's dismay), I'mir turned back towards the stands, where Rochelle and I'marin were sitting now. "Come on, let's go talk to your sister. And there are some people I'd like you to meet"
KIBETH! HEY KIBETH LOOK! I'VE A RIDER NOW!
|Posted by: Meesh Apr 12 2012, 06:41 PM|
You were doing a good job, and I'm glad you went to help her. but you're a Candidate, and they will have healers of their own soon Rainbow eyes met hers as a dark-blue muzzle nudged her shoulder in affection. Silva could only stare in astonishment as the blue continued. I'm sorry I'm not a brown, but I think blue suits you better. it brings out your eyes. Silva only smiled, shaking her head slowly. "Are you kidding? You're perfect she whispered, leaning forward to hug the large dragonet. He crooned gently in response, leaning into her.
Now, if you don't mind, I'm just a tad hungry
Silva hugged her armful of dragonet, "Well we better get you fed then" turning and heading towards the meat-buckets, arm still on her blue. The rest of the eggs could have their fun hatching- as far as she was concerned, it was just her and Saraneth, the rest of the world be damned.