Log: In which Taikrin makes a special friend! (Part 1)
Date: Day 13, Month 4, Turn 22 of Interval 10
NorCon MUSH - 3/20/2010
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Candidate Quarters, High Reaches Weyr(#286RAJ)
Two caverns lead one right into the other from a hallway just off the Common Room. Taking advantage of the high, vaulted ceiling, bunk beds march in four neat rows of five beds each allowing up to forty people to sleep in one cavern. Functional and spartan in atmosphere, there's little in the way of decoration here, just the one tapestry depicting a hatching on the wall of the first cavern and eggs on the sands in the second.
Each bunk is made up when there are candidates in residence, with standard sheeting, gray woollen blankets and somewhat lumpy pillows. A trunk stands at both the head and foot of the bunks, providing a little space for the occupants to store their belongings while the wait for the eggs to hatch. The archway between the two spaces is covered over with a hide hanging, easily hooked back when both caverns are in use, but tacked into place when only the first is needed. A proper wooden door closes out noise and drafts from the hallway.
Contents:
Vyshani
Ivana
Shad
Brenoran
Silarra
Teris
Inviere
Zarenya
Obvious exits:
Common Room
Shad grins as he brings out a small hammer, an even smaller borer, and a square of metal. He set everything on the floor. "I work on stuff whenever I get the chance, so I like to have things on hand. And some of that is ... commemorative." He points to one lump of metal. "My first attempt at pouring metal into a mold, for example." It doesn't look like much of anything. "Didn't turn out so well." he says with a laugh. "But I kept it anyway. Sentimental value." He sat down. "Ok, hand me the teeth again. And take a seat. You can watch."
Xeoshen has arrived.
Saliqa heads in from the common room.
Saliqa has arrived.
Ivana hands over the teeth and sits on the cot, leaning over it to -- as directed -- watch.
Taikrin is here, though she's strangely subdued-- as she has been for the last several days. She's reclining on her cot and idly working her weak arm out with one of the weights. Her gaze lingers on those nearby - particular Shad and Ivana - though she doesn't comment. Yet.
Warucori heads in from the common room.
Warucori has arrived.
Milani heads in from the common room.
Milani has arrived.
After a day of anticipation, the dragons begin their humming in the early evening. It starts low and soft, and then increases steadily, until it can be heard across the weyr, echoing into caverns and crevices, leaving no doubt: it's time!
Shad starts with the one he suspects won't make it ... the most rotten and decayed of the teeth. "This one might not survive, but I'll try." And gets to work.
Gustav has been here the entire time. He's on his cot, stretched out and staring at the ceiling. He's oddly calm and relaxed, though there's the impatient twitching of his foot as the ever present humming continues.
There's humming going on! And shortly thereafter, running footsteps as the headwoman and one of her assistants come into the barracks. "Everyone who's here, into robes, right quick please! Then we'll line up and take you over to the Bowl, the eggs are hatching!" Brisk. Cheery! Go figure.
Saliqa bustles into the quarters shortly on the heels of the assistant, catching ends of words-- which, as it turns out, is plenty to now what's going on, what with the tension that's been hovering all day. Picking past suddenly active candidates, she has to go all the way to the back of the cavern to find a cot, and a neatly folded robe waiting on her pillow.
Silarra strides in with a rare geniune grin on her face and an almost finished meatroll in her hand. At the sound of humming, she quickly shoves the rest into her mouth, heading for her cot and the robe there. There's nothing to say, because, well, her mouth is stuffed pretty full.
Taikrin /was/ relaxed; as Milani bursts into the room, though, she very nearly falls off her bunk. "Wait-- wha?!" Dismay colors her voice, even as she pushes herself upright and digs out her own robe. "S'time /already/?!"
Inviere is here, and quiet in her bunk: having had a day's worth of warning, she's already done her hair and slipped into her robe; now she looks up from her reading with a furrowed brow. She sighs, claps the book shut, and sits up.
Ivana sits up straight with a gasp. "Shad, just put th'teeth in th'press? We'll figure it out later..?" She's up off the cot, her face pale again. "Just hope that one didn't break..."
After helping out with all the preparations at least a little bit, Teris has been hanging out on her cot for the last little while, waiting for just this moment. She's eaten, braided her hair, found a robe and now she eyes the headwoman and her assistants as they enter, not looking as prepared as she'd probably like to be.
Xeoshen is just coming into the barracks, when the humming starts. It makes him freeze for a moment. "Is that what I think it is?" He asks, and then Milani confirms it. "Shards." He mutters, and hurries over to his cot, and digs out his own robe.
Gustav stands up and rips off his clothes, underneath is his hatching robe. Okay, not really. He gets up slowly and digs through his press, finding the rumbled looking thing in a ball at the bottom. Without wasting anytime he changes into it. Then it's just waiting for the signal.
Vyshani was not here, she was chopping vegetables! Or pilfering them. Either way, when the Bollian lass does come skittering in, she's got half an onion still in one hand, the other being claimed by a tall skinny girl from Lemos. "Slow down Neraya!"
Warucori is coming in behind Saliqua and Xeoshen, looking all thoughtful and fixated on her current plan of action. Going right to her cot she quickly kneels and starts digging around in the footlocker for her bathing supplies and a change of resh clothes. She stops as she hears the humming, spilling one of the jars of sweetsand all over the inside of her press. "But I have to take a bath." SHe says, putting both hands on her hair.
Shad, about to start with Ivana's teeth, glances up and swallows hard. "Right. Later." He hurries to put everything away and grabs for his robe.
One candidate is kind of just standing there in shock and Milani heads right on over, gives her a light shake. "Robe! Now! Come on, the eggs won't wait!" That's sing-songed at least, then she steps away to the door. "Pair up, and let's get moving, all of you!" Chop chop! She waves a hand towards Giorda too, who's nudging another candidate along, the headwoman and assistant apparently quite prepared to bodily move folks.
Ivana runs for her cot too after a very grateful look at Shad, and rips clothing off, heedless of who might see. Her robe is on in record time. She exchanges her clogs for thick soled shoes, and she's ready.
Teris blinks. Pair up? She has her robe changed into in short order without showing off anything interesting. But the pairing up thing seems to have thrown her for a bit of a loop.
Taikrin strips almost completely nude without a moment's thought, then stuffs herself sloppily into the robe. She's still adjusting the sash around her waist, idly, as she cuts across the room towards Saliqa's cot with a terribly concerned expression. "Y'ready?"
Inviere, as one might expect, does not look too keen on this whole "pairing up" thing. She hoists herself to her feet, sure, but only to fold her arms and sort of glower around her immediate area, as if daring one of her fellows to be the first to try it.
Getting into a robe without anyone seeing you undress is a skill Saliqa spends half as much time on as she should, seeing as how they're not being hurried. Luckily, no one's really paying attention to /other people/ right now. Her hair is short but she fusses with it a few seconds before eyeing the spot indicated by the assistant. Her hands flex by her side, nervous and empty. "Yes," she intones flatly to Taikrin, a clear lie. "Stand by me."
Zarenya wasn't here either. She was off in the stables. Or so it might have seemed when she came in -earlier-. But now she looks moderately clean with that fresh-from-the-baths harried and hurried look. Hair still soggy and dripping but easily swept back into a loose ponytail, she comes streaking in toward her bunk. Okay, not -streaking-, but damn near close. She makes the effort to get robe and shoes on but hardly seems all happy about this. Pair up? She lingers near Vy, claiming her with a linked arm when the other girl is ready. Without a word, too. Besides a grumble.
Xeoshen quickly changes out of his clothes, and into the robe, changing into his shoes as well, before he moves to pair up with another candidate as the Headwoman says. "Good luck guys." He says to the other candidates.
Hatching Sands, High Reaches Weyr
Whether one enters from the main bowl entrance or one of the smaller tunnels at the back of the cavern, golden-brown sand glitters and swelters in every direction. Close inspection reveals that while the large egg pieces have been gathered up, small fragments remain mixed into the hot sand, record of a thousand hatchings. The main source of light is a huge window of sky high in the wall that also serves as an aerial entrance, its overhang just deep enough to admit light and cooler air but fend off harsher weather.
The sands' setting designs them to be the focus of the vast amphitheater, with tiers upon tiers of galleries rising up its southwestern side near the tunnel to the bowl, and rings of dragon ledges higher yet: heat and architecture combining into what can be a palpable sense of pressure.
Contents:
Shad
Saliqa
Meara
Leova
K'del
Cadejoth
Iovniath
Obvious exits:
Galleries
A minty green head pokes free from a small hole within the With The Candlestick Egg, followed rapidly by the rest of her. Once entirely detangled from her former home, she launches herself into the fray, inspecting one candidate after another, then moving on again. With a trail of disappointment left in her wake, she finally finds what she's after in the form of a gangly girl from the lower caverns - and the very first Impression is made.
"You know it," Leova's got to agree. Her gaze slips briefly towards so-excited weyrleader over there, and the larger pair beyond, before she takes another step back. "So long as one doesn't go after Mil... /shells/." Off she strides, seeking to intercept the newly-Impressed green-and-lifemate and take them /out/.
Taikrin is walking as close to Saliqa as she can manage without being actually on /top/ of the other girl. Nervousness wars with dismay on pale features already shiny with sweat-- and she's barely stepped onto the sands. "S'gonna be okay," she murmurs unconvincingly. "Y'r gonna do fine, I know it."
Meara looks amused, bounding on unrestrained energy, as that green Impresses no sooner than there are candidates on the sand for her to pick from. /She/ casts a glance at the Weyrleaders, bobbing her head towards them, then turns her attention back to the eggs: which one, then, will be next?
After resting a few moments, the Elegant Figure Eight Egg tilts, rolls in a stately arabesque across the hot sands. When it comes to rest, it spins another quarter-turn in place, digging itself in snug again. A thin line of a crack is running down the shell, but it does not widen. It's definitely /not/ too soon for some, though: the constant, low-level shuddering performed by the Natural Twenty Egg finally fades away into nothing as pieces begin to break free, followed by the arrival of a tail forcefully pushed straight through. The brown that shakes itself free is almost bronze-sized, though his mahogany-tinted hide is undeniably brown. He finds a High Reaches Hold boy in short order; the boy leads him off with one hand draped possessively over neckridges.
Inviere trails in just about at the end of the line, alone-ish; the space immediately to her left is occupied by a particularly nervous-looking brunette, but to say they're "paired" is... a bit of a misnomer.
Saliqa has, somewhere between the quarters and sands, managed to squirm her fingers within Taikrin's-- which may help with the whole closeness. Her face is near stony, which doesn't let her look nervous, but also blocks her from looking anything happy. "I'm not sure there /is/ much to do," she tries to joke with the girl near her. Other familiar faces are eventually searched for, but the eggs are soon distracting enough.
Silarra quickly makes her way over to Taikrin's other side. Forget whoever she was partnered up with for coming in. "Look a green! Already! They barely got us here." She comments to the two. Her eyes fix on the eggs, trying to keep track of it all.
Shad watches the green that just hatched in awe, then grins over at Ivana. "Good luck." He tells her. And then the brown catches his attention. "Man, this is happening fast."
Teris stands near to a younger girl, her pair for these purposes and while the younger girl tugs uncomfortably at her robe, the blonde does much the same despite her otherwise composed air.
From its new position, the Elegant Figure Eight Egg attempts a few more movements, twists and turns and one extended slide down a small hillock in the sand, all terribly graceful. Then, suddenly, it is wrenched from inside in a single jagged movement that splits the shell open along the previous fault. The brown inside inelegantly demolishes the rest of the egg in the process of getting out.
>---< Frost and Fisticuffs Brown >-------------------------------------------<
He might seem a carving of sleek, varnished ash wood, but no woodcarver
would have built a dragon so wide--he has shoulders like a burdenbeast,
limbs that will be as big around as the trunks of ancient trees. The
muscles are not well defined but obviously present, the enormous padded
bulk of his body making an average-sized brown seem behemoth. His hide is
pale as blond wood, smooth over the blocky body and haunches, only faint
striations of lighter and darker colors running through it like woodgrain.
Huge, broad wings become more pallid still, their sails lit with silver
frost. A slim trail of white curves over the left wing only, as though a
long-faded scar from some unknown injury. Whatever trauma he seems to have
endured in the egg, it also seems to have left him without one of his
front teeth on the top, the gap obvious whenever he opens his mouth.
>----------------------------------------------------------------------------<
K'del points out the green, and then the brown, to Tiriana, excitedly; even she looks pleased. He takes a long swig from the wineskin he carries, murmuring something up to the exultant Cadejoth.
Oh great, things are already exploding out of the egg. Gustav's face looks less than enthusiastic. His hand holding partner clearly gets tired of dealing with him (and him hitting on her while she's way nervous and looking ready to cry) and ditches him once they reach the sands, shuffling over to another girl. This leaves him pretty much alone and up to his own devices, which take him near Teris. He stands near her and tries to look nonchalent. They're totally friends, right?
Xeoshen minces out onto the sands with his paired up partner, the poor young boy looks a bit nervous to be paired with him, but they're stuck like that for now. He makes his way toward the group, and stops with the other candidates. He blinks at the green who hatches, and impresses. "Shards, that was fast." He says, and looks back to the eggs, in time to see the brown hatch.
Warucori tugs down the side of her robe as she goes, trying to stay close to the healer-candidate that she's latched onto. Though she doesn't know the boy very well...and what does it matter anyway right? She looks towards the familiar faces once she's in a spot around the eggs, murmuring to herself, "I don't know how I can hardly watch it all." She breaths to herself and fights the urge to back-step it right back off the stands as she sees the eggs actually hatching open. "oh!"
It may have been too soon for The Morning After Egg to have moved, as such, but evidently the hatchling within can't wait forever. It /definitely/ just moved a second time. Just a light wobble, barely any bigger than the last one, and equally tentative. As slow as it is, there are definite hairline cracks forming in the apex of its shell: hatching can't be /too/ far off. A crash and a bang send the Yellow Monster Egg rolling splotch over splotch, sending sunny chips of shell scattering to the sand beneath. Despite this impressive first movement, it stills again afterwards, as meekly quiet as any egg could ever be. Go ahead, bet on whether that lasts!
"Good luck t'you too," Ivana says breathlessly to Shad, as the circle of candidates gets wider. She tries to stay with Shad as the crowd of candidates shifts, and apologizes to another candidate for nearly stepping on her foot.
Taikrin isn't having any success with her attempts at nonchalance, though she /is/ trying. "They're comin' so fast an' I forgot what t'think an' I didn't eat all th'meat I should an' /shards/ what're we gonna do?!" A quick glance at Saliqa, and a quicker finger squeeze, before she's back to scanning the rolling eggs and the loose brown. "They're so /big/..."
Teris shakes her head when she notices Gustav getting closer but it must be more of a warning than anything else because she doesn't open her mouth to actually tell him to shove off and leave her alone. Distracted and everything, of course.
Vyshani enters alongside Zarenya, a bundle of barely restrained energy as her steps almost bounce. "Oh, some have hatched already? Can you see, what's going on? Where's Neraya?" Not that any of her questions are anything other than a verbal expression of excitement, as proper forms are met and the pair move to find a place.
Inviere, not near enough to take much notice of the newly hatched brown, just about leaves her Sands partner behind as she takes up a position nearish Saliqa, Taikrin, and their fellows. Uselessly, she beats some sand off her robe.
After making short work of his egg, Frost and Fisticuffs Brown finally turns his whole body to regard the Candidates out there. He stomps his feet, twists his neck almost as though cracking it, and gives all those white-robed creatures a steely-eyed once-over. He gives a throaty trumpet and moves out towards them, surprisingly graceful despite his bulk and infancy.
Brenoran takes his place somewhere in the middle of the other candidates. Sure there was some information on what to do in the previous weeks of candidacy, but then talking beforehand and then actually being out there on the sands with the eggs hatching. "'Luck," he mutters back to whoever's beside him.
Saliqa is having some difficulty keeping up with everything that's going on; her head whips from side to side quite enthusiastically. "What is... over there! What are you-- no, the meat doesn't matter. They said it doesn't matter. I hope it doesn't matter..." She loses confidence as she goes, a last desperate glance letting her find Inviere. Her free hand beckons her closer yet.
Silarra looks out to the dragons. "And they're soo /gooey/." She states looking towards Taikrin and Saliqa. She apparently plans to just insinuate herself in with them. "Big and gooey. Especially that one." She points over to the brown. "K'del said to eat just so we weren't hungry 'cause we wouldn't have time.
/Crack/. It happens so suddenly, in the end, that it seems to leave the hatchling within in a state of confused surprise. The Morning After Egg breaks into two distinct pieces, which promptly fall into shards upon the sand below. The blue within? He blinks, several times, slowly, then takes a hesitant, wobbling step forward. Well. If he's /out/...
>---< Ride The Wave Blue >---------------------------------------------------<
An indigo wave crashes over the craggy ridges of this mid-sized blue,
sending tendrils of bluish purple towards the inky depths of his shadowed
belly and haunches, where tensing muscles offer flashes of brighter color
like cavorting tropical fish. Paler aqua bubbles around the tips of those
sharp points as they make their way from his head to the tip of his
shorter-than-usual tail; across his wingsails, shades of blue-upon-blue
wash from edge to edge, seeming to endlessly shift as he moves, barely
constrained by silver-touched pinions. Despite the pointedness of those
ridges, he's built to lean lines, light padding softening what might
otherwise be sharp edges - a theme carried through to the boneless
relaxation that marks the lazy movements of his head, not to mention his
languorous gait.
>----------------------------------------------------------------------------<
"Hey, everyone's gooey when they're first born." Shad comments. "And this is happening insanely fast."
Gustav gets closer to the woman who is not so much his friend. And since Teris doesn't throw a punch or really try to get him away from her, he settles there. He casts a glance down at her but doesn't try to generate any sort of small talk between them just yet.
Inviere's attention is briefly captured, then, by that trumpet -- her startled gaze flickers light-fast to the brown and then, disinterested, wanders away again. In traveling, it lands on Saliqa and her hand; something in her face falters. Her fingers twitch at her sides, and she inches a few wary steps closer.
Meara escorts the newest weyrling to the barracks, then makes her way back, crossing arms in front of her as her gaze considers the blue and brown currently wandering the sands. "Solid hatchlings," is her murmured remark.
Warucori's nose crinkles up and she looks towards Silarra and the girls clustered together with longing. She wants to be there. TO be behind them. Hey, that might not be such a bad idea. "Oh, you're right......slippery and sticky and....this really doesn't seem like such a good idea now you know." WHen the blue hatches, all silver and sharp-edged she grits her teeth and takes a few steps towards the familiar faces, leaving her healer-partner to himself. Poor guy.
Teris can just ignore Gustav in that case. All the easier when the younger girl to her other side lifts a hand to take hers. She doesn't say anything to that either, but glances down briefly, hesitantly, before her gaze is back up to watch the hatching dragonets.
Frost and Fisticuffs Brown makes his first attempt at opening up his wings as he nears a cluster of Weyrbred boys, and nearly loses his balance in doing so. One of them snickers nervously and the brown turns almost on heel to go off and examine the others. After that, his interest shifts to a couple of very girly girls, and he barrels at them, a stampede of heavy steps. They scatter; he dismisses them with a huff of breath and moves on.
Zarenya sideglances over at the robe of bounciness that is Vyshani and stares at her a long few seconds, but deciding to humor her, she points to.. some random person. "Over, uh. There! That's her, isn't it? The one with the big rump? No, wait. Goob-Babria or whater her name is." However, it's the trumpeting and the other commotions that make the convict jump and whip her head back around to eye the hatchlings warily. "Oh, oh, oh. They're coming over."
A quiver from the Yellow Monster Egg sets it to shifting sand once more, more flakes of yellow sailing free as the tip of a talon pokes out. The egg shudders and tips, more cracks beginning to appear, though the hatchling within remains trapped for at least a little while longer. And, given that displeased noise that's not quite a warble... it's not happy. Better Take A Drink Egg starts slow, an amusing pivot within the small wallow in which it is entrenched. A twitch here, a twitch there, then it falls dormant once more, no doubt waiting for the appropriate time to take the next dri... er... move.
Taikrin doesn't turn to acknowledge Silarra-- her gaze is focused almost exclusively now on the newly-hatched blue and browns -- but her comment might indeed be directed towards her. "Didn't know they came out messy like that..." She pulls herself closer towards Saliqa, if it's even possible. "I ain't-- I dunno. S'gonna be okay. Y'gotta have one out here, just gotta stay alive t'get there. But-- shells, lookit him. That brown. Be ready t'run if he comes over here."
Xeoshen raises an eyebrow at the trumpet from the brown. "He looks like a quick one." He remarks to whoevers around him. "A bit of a loud one too." He says. The boy next to him fidgets as he watches the dragons, trying to not look at his 'partner'. Obviously Xeo wasn't his first choice in partners. Xeoshen turns at the sound of cracking, and notes the blue as well. "Shards, this is moving fast." He mutters, and turns as the brown barrel;s into a group. "Have ta watch that one."
Saliqa is nodding to something-- what, who knows; possibly, she's acknowledging Silarra's new inclusion in their close finger-knitted group. Something reminds her to slip up onto her toes and scout around until she has pegged Gustav's location. Back to Inviere, lightning fast. This time the beckoning is accompanied with: "Come on, then!" Then it becomes too difficult to ignore that hatchlings are getting closer, and Taikrin. "What-- run?"
Heeeeey man, what's that over there? The Ride The Wave blue teeters a little, steps uncertain and pauses to get his balance, like a surfer finding the groove at the crest of a wave. The tide's moving on though and so is the hatchling, tail twitching back and forth a little as he noses at another egg, mesmerized for a few moments by the brightly colored patterns on the shell. There's /movement/ though, over there. Heeeey, what's all that? /Who/ are they?
Inviere looks as if she might just settle into synchronous orbit somewhere in Saliqa's vicinity, but at the last second, makes a decision: she darts forward and puts her sweaty hand in the Crom girl's. Her eyes are fixed straight ahead, on an interesting patch of air just beyond her nose. "Thanks," she manages eventually. She lifts one foot, puts it back down. Ow ow ow.
Gustav crosses his arms over his chest, a clue to his actual nervousness. The quick movements of that brown across the sands, the whole barreling thing. It doesn't have him looking excited. He tracks its progress with his eyes and he steps back, lips pursed tightly together.
Silarra smirks as the brown makes the girls scatter. "You might need to run, but please don't destroy all our ears with shrieking." Silarra states. "Guess it makes sense. Humans are all icky when they come out, too." Silarra decides, scanning the group to find Gabrion, giving him a smirk across the cluster as she catches him biting his nails.
Shad grins at the blue dragonet and the second brown. "Wow. They're kinda awesome, aren't they?" The comment is mostly intended for himself, rather than something to be answered by someone.
With a final powerful shove, the hatchling within the Yellow Monster Egg tears free, sending large chunks of shell sailing in her wake. /She/ has no time to waste on them: the sands are calling, her wings are flapping, the whole world lies ahead. Now, if only she can stop stepping on her tail!
Vyshani blinks at Ren, "Big ru--" Then she's actually laughing and shaking her head. "No no, Ner's tall and ski-- wait, what? Where?" Up on her toes she goes, as if that will help her see any better between all the white and wobbling and gooey dragonets.
>---< Rambling Brambly Bacchante Green >-------------------------------------<
She's wont to sprawl, the hawk-nosed young green, her long limbs
carelessly every-which-way. She also may not seem particularly bright at
first, not even physically, with her deep-hooded eyes and her muted
coloring that's drab and faded as though from some old stain. Brown,
jagged lines slash up her legs like so many thorned brambles, pricking
dots of ichor green here and there against the faded background, becoming
a tangled thicket across her narrow flanks. They might as well be real,
given how ungainly with youth she is, as much an impediment as her already
overgrown wingsails: translucent as though with foliage's new growth, a
fine-veined net to trap the unwary if only they are strong enough to hold.
>----------------------------------------------------------------------------<
Ivana glances down at the sands; in all this chaos it's the sands that seem to bring her back to calm. She looks up to the stands for a moment, searching for a familiar face, but doesn't find it. Another candidiate bumps *her*, this time, and she turns her attention back to Shad and Xeo's voice nearby. "Just be ready t'move," she calls back.
Cadejoth leans forward to get a better look, his long neck arching over the eggs and sending some of the candidates moving backwards. K'del puts a hand on his side again, and the bronze retracts his head, his hum nonetheless still warm and delighted.
Warucori has to dodge to avoid one of those girly-girls charging at her and her hands reach out to catch her up before she can get run over. "It's...it's...ok. Easy there." She hisses, trying not to fall down herself. Once the girl has hurried on behind her, Cori takes note of the sands again, checking for distance between herself and the stumbling young dragons.
Taikrin nods, curtly, as tension rises in her slight figure. "Yeah. Look how he went after those girls. Y'gotta be careful." A swift glance is directed at Silarra then, eyes faintly narrows. "Ain't funny. Big guy like him could do some damage, iffen he pleased."
When the Frost and Fisticuffs Brown Hatchling rushes at one particular dark-haired former convict, it almost seems a foregone conclusion that she's going to be bowled over. Instead, he slides to a stop just inches from her, wings fanning, and looks up with wide and whirling eyes all for Taikrin.
>----------------------------------------------------------------------------<
A breath of cold invades your thoughts like an ice-cream headache, only
instead of pain there is only an intractable pressure. << Taikrin?
/Taikrin/! >> Just in case you weren't paying attention, suddenly he ramps
up the volume, your name vibrating in your own head. That brown is looking
at you. Yes, you. << You're Taikrin. Szadath. I'm Szadath. Whew. Now that
we're all warmed up, can we get down to the eating? >>
>----------------------------------------------------------------------------<
Impossibly tiny, the cracks that begin to spread across the One Hundred and Eighty Egg aren't even visible until - with an almighty /crack/ - the whole thing collapses in on itself, raining shards down on the burnished bronze within. Intent interest carries him directly towards a group of candidates, where weyrbred Calarid drops to his knees as he wraps strong arms about the narrow creature's body.
Inviere is all grit teeth and narrowed, restless eyes now, with occasional twitches and half-starts when it seems she might need to dodge. "Good luck," she says sideways to Saliqa -- and if there was going to be something else there, it's lost when her neighbor Takrin is claimed. Her eyes widen, and her free hand reaches to push a sweaty bit of hair from their view. "...wow."
Teris tenses somewhat and the girl beside her steps back along with Gustav, loosening her grip on the blonde's hand. Teris doesn't step back, though. She stands where she is and watches as the brown finds who he's looking for before attention is back on everything else.
Ride The Wave Blue tilts his head up, fascinated by the candidates, the flickers of movement from the galleries, but mostly the young people who are nearest by. He pokes his muzzle forward to inhaaaale deeply at the hem of one girl's robe, making her giggle in spite of wrung-together palms. It's on to take a closer look at the pattern twisted leather straps make against skin on one boy's feet and then another and another, each candidate nosed or nudged lightly, examined with a steady azure gaze that as yet, avoids making eye contact.
Gustav's eyebrows lift as the brown slides to a stop in front of Taikrin. Well then. He snorts, but the look on his face isn't altogether surprised looking. There's a sympathetic look to the nervous girl backing away from Teris. "It's alright." He says lightly before looking away again.
Taikrin isn't oblivious to the onrushing brown, though she only catches the end of his rush. "Get ready to-- to--..." Eyes go suddenly wide, and her fingers slacken then slip of of Saliqa's. She's on one knee, suddenly, and there are tears in her eyes she'll never admit to later. "I-- I-- Szadath. Of... of course." A hand reaches out, tentatively, to touch the brown's head. "Eating. Right. Y'must be starvin'..."
Saliqa shows the first traces of a smile when Inviere takes her hand, but attention diverts to what appears to be that same brown hatchling coming exactly for them. "Oh, ru--" Though she detaches from Taikrin's hand in order for them both to haul away, it's clear something else is going on. "Oh." Good thing Inviere's there, because now she /really/ needs a hand to squeeze.
Meara, with an uneven kind of smile, heads across towards Taikrin and her brown as the pair find each other. Eyebrows raised - well, there's not /too/ much judgement here - she gives them a glance up and down before beckoning them onwards. "Food through here, weyrling, for your brown." Okay: /there's/ the grin, here after all. "C'mon with me."
One of the Rambling Brambly Bacchante Green Hatchling's wings hooks on a neckridge, but after the first reflexive tug that yanks a screech from her throat, both sails relinquish large-scale movements in favor of a low, twitchy vibration that picks up the dragons' hum. Her neck stretches back and forth, this way and that way, like a long and particularly loopy vine. Her eyes are red, she's looking and looking, and then she hastens in awkward leaps past a waystation girl and her frie... no. She pauses. Gives the black-haired girl a long stare even as her shoulders twitch and twitch again, but when she gets her wing freed, she leaves too. Heads for another cluster, back in the direction she'd been going. But there are eggs and hatchlings between her and her destination, and she's got to get there /first/.
Dragon> To you, Szadath projects, << Starving! That's the word for it. Starving. Starving and we need food. Lots of food. This calls for celebrating. Big-time celebrating. You and me, Taikrin. You and me! >>
Weyrling Barracks, High Reaches Weyr(#395RAs)
Tucked off the back of the training room, the barracks are a huge, high cavern that stretches far back into the stone of the Weyr. Both of the longer walls are lined with couches for the dragons, enough for a couple of Pass-sized clutches at once, each matched with a cot and press for the weyrling dragonrider. In this day and age, however, the couches in the back have been allowed to grow dusty with long disuse. Hearths are spaced between every few couches to heat the big room.
For decoration, there are a number of tapestries on the walls, looking almost as beat-up as the couches out in the training room, but scattered flower pots with their bright blooming contents provide a cheery touch. Additionally, some of the couches have had graffiti scratched into them over the Turns that were never quite cleaned off: smears of chalk messages or even rough pictures, some not fit for young eyes. In many cases names and dates have been painstakingly carved into the rock, a record of those that once made their home here.
Contents:
Aleis
C'sel
Obvious exits:
Training Cavern
Meara has arrived.
HRW-SAND> Inviere covers Saliqa's hand with her free one, making a sandwich of her palm and fingers. If she has something else to say, she lets her clammy, ruddy flesh do the talking. Well. That, and the barest smile.
HRW-SAND> Silarra smirks a smile at the impression beside her. "Didn't need to run after all, did you?" She states with a joking tone. "Congratulations." But then she's looking over towards Saliqa for a just a moment. She starts to offer her hand and then pulls it back looking out towards the dragon eggs.
HRW-SAND> Better Take A Drink Egg has seen one too many reasons to stay silent for much longer. A tipsy sloshing must be the very innards of the egg breaking loose. Oh, Weyr, if you thought you were safe before, that's obviously not the case: King of Improv Blue Hatchling is on the loose!
HRW-SAND>
>---< King of Improv Blue >--------------------------------------------------<
A spotlight showcases this brilliantly blue dragon, a cobalt cloak of
debonair charm draped over a well-built physique. That classic hue colors
all his lean lines, hardly changing from tip to tail. His headknobs are
blocky and blunt, his face charismatic with only a single shift of color:
prussian blue shadowing the tip of his snout, a gentleman's groomed goatee
in draconic proportion. Gentleman he is not, however, not with those
wickedly sloping neckridges, nor his cocksure tail or rakishly angled
wings, their narrow spars edged in powdery pale blue. Broad paws tipped
with just as shockingly light talons attempt to ground him, but a
jokester's eternal cheer enlivens every movement.
>----------------------------------------------------------------------------<
HRW-SAND> Xeoshen tenses, ready to get outb of the way of any charging hatchlings, as he keeps an eye on the closest, the brown. When he impresses though, he grins. "Taikrin? Alright Taikrin!" He cheers toward the fellow, well now ex, convict candidate. "Szadath, he looks like an interesting one." He says, moving as the line moves to fill the gaps, his partner moving along with him.
HRW-SAND> Teris, at least, assumes Gustav is talking to the other girl. That or she doesn't hear him at all as focused as she is on the dragons milling about looking for their lifemate.
As unruffled as ever, C'sel stands at the ready near to the barracks-entrance to 'catch' incoming weyrlings, a bowl of meat ready in hand to extend to whomever comes in next and a calm: "Congratulations," to offer.
HRW-SAND> Ivana rises up on her toes when the noise level goes up, and sees Taikrin's Impression. She takes a few steps in that direction, head swiveling to make sure she's not in any dangerous path. Xeoshen appears on her left, and she waves. "Doing all right?" she calls.
HRW-SAND> Despite his continued exploration of the sands, there's no real haste from the Ride the Wave Blue Hatchling, though his eyes betray some agitation, whirling red as candidate after candidate is considered and discarded. Finally, backtracking past some giggling girls from the lower caverns, his stubby tail twitching thoughtfully, he seems to find /something/. He takes a few steps, then a few more, then alters his path entirely for a final time, as he meets for the first time the gaze of his one-and-only: his Shad.
In the barracks, the assistants have been waiting. Aleis has a flask. This is probably not on Meara's approved list of equipment for the hatching, but as soon as weyrlings start to arrive it gets tucked away. "Coming already? Hi, there. Welcome. Congrats and--like he said." C'sel has the whole meat thing under control, leaving her waiting for the next to do the same honors.
Taikrin is incredibly bemused as she trips back towards the barracks, keeping one hand in contact with Szadath at all times. "Yeah, celebrate." There's a grin growing there, though, slowly but surely. "He's hungry!" The bowl of meat is taken with barely an acknowledging nod, and she only makes it a few more steps before plopping down to start offering chunks to the brown.
HRW-SAND> K'del doesn't seem to be able to keep up, his eyes on everything and everyone. "Look!" he says, as the blue Impresses; Taikrin's Impression seems to pass him by entirely, no doubt to sink in later.
Szadath has arrived.
HRW-SAND> Better Take A Drink Egg somehow suddenly spins about twice, almost waylaying a fellow egg by bouncing up out of the shallow crater. Whatever is inside obviously is ready to be *outside*, and a drunken twitching takes over the egg in sudden impatient anticipation. It's subtle, at first: a single link in the chain flaking off from the Send Someone Over Egg and dropping to the sand below. Stillness follows, as though nothing happened at all - and then the egg itself begins to shake, just barely, vibrating back and forth and back and forth.
HRW-SAND> Warucori stares from blue to green, "they are so different. I think.....oh, she doesn't look very happy. I don't think. No......" She sees Taikrin leaving the sands and her eyes widen. "He picked her? Ohmygoodness...." her lips twitch up into a smile. "Did you see it?" She's asking the healer lad, but he's too far gone ith panic that he doesn't pay her any mind.
HRW-SAND> Saliqa delivers in kind to Inviere; though it's hard to find a lot of cheer in the thin, close-mouthed smile that quivers more than it holds. More than the dragons now, she seems to be eyeing that place where Taikrin disappeared when she's not eyeing the stands and all those eyeing back. Somewhere in there, she squares her shoulders almost defensively.
HRW-SAND> Vyshani is having a time of it. There's just too many directions to look in! Look left, miss what's happening to the right, look right and-- She sidesteps into her fellow. "Oh. Ren. Renrenren!" She aims a tug at the other candidate's arm, staring wide-eyed at the Brambly green. "Oh...." Still wide eyes track the hatchling's progress away, and then she's turning breathlessly to look at the taller girl. "Did you /see/ how /close/ she was!?"
Meara escorts Taikrin and Szadath into the barracks, raising one eyebrow at her assistants once she gets there, but there's no time to linger: back to the sands!
Meara heads to the sands.
Meara has left.
HRW-SAND> Meara heads in from a tunnel off to the side.
HRW-SAND> Meara has arrived.
C'sel's mouth quirks faintly to the side as Taikrin swipes that bowl. Hey look! He smiled! And just as soon as that's done, he's turning to collect another bowl from the table behind him. OCD much? "Make sure that he chews," he informs Taikrin in an even voice.
HRW-SAND> Inviere squeezes hard and then releases one of two hands, though she seems at a loss what to do with that second one now. It flutters at her side, picks at the course fabric of her robe. "They don't... /look/ dangerous," she ventures eventually, though she keeps her attention shifting. You know. Just in case she's wrong.
HRW-SAND> Shad grins and cheers when Taikrin Impresses. "Way to go!" And then he watches as the one blue works his way from Candidate to Candidate. And then ... "Akuath." Awed, stunned, and totally overwhelmed. He reaches out to touch, hesitantly.
HRW-SAND> King of Improv Blue gives a stretch, the motion unhurried. It rises from his light talons up through body and wings to flare gooey wingsails in an impressive span. That stage-setting show done, he takes a hopping step forwards, craning his head in obvious bemusement to stare after a too-close candidate who goes flailing backwards. Ha! Ten points for not falling, and /spectacularly/ balanced wobbling.
HRW-SAND> Xeoshen nods to Ivana. "Alright so far, this is going by so sharding quick though." He says. "Didn't think they'd be so...big." He adds. "How are ya holdin' up?" He asks her, keeping his eyes looking around. "I think that blue impressed...I think."
Szadath comes tromping off the sands with his Taikrin. There's the guy with the meat, and he's really interested in that guy. Anybody else besides Taikrin and that guy, not interesting. He is a dragon with his game face on. He is a dragon who is hungry--as a rumbling belly soon proves.
NorCon MUSH - 3/20/2010
-----------------------
Candidate Quarters, High Reaches Weyr(#286RAJ)
Two caverns lead one right into the other from a hallway just off the Common Room. Taking advantage of the high, vaulted ceiling, bunk beds march in four neat rows of five beds each allowing up to forty people to sleep in one cavern. Functional and spartan in atmosphere, there's little in the way of decoration here, just the one tapestry depicting a hatching on the wall of the first cavern and eggs on the sands in the second.
Each bunk is made up when there are candidates in residence, with standard sheeting, gray woollen blankets and somewhat lumpy pillows. A trunk stands at both the head and foot of the bunks, providing a little space for the occupants to store their belongings while the wait for the eggs to hatch. The archway between the two spaces is covered over with a hide hanging, easily hooked back when both caverns are in use, but tacked into place when only the first is needed. A proper wooden door closes out noise and drafts from the hallway.
Contents:
Vyshani
Ivana
Shad
Brenoran
Silarra
Teris
Inviere
Zarenya
Obvious exits:
Common Room
Shad grins as he brings out a small hammer, an even smaller borer, and a square of metal. He set everything on the floor. "I work on stuff whenever I get the chance, so I like to have things on hand. And some of that is ... commemorative." He points to one lump of metal. "My first attempt at pouring metal into a mold, for example." It doesn't look like much of anything. "Didn't turn out so well." he says with a laugh. "But I kept it anyway. Sentimental value." He sat down. "Ok, hand me the teeth again. And take a seat. You can watch."
Xeoshen has arrived.
Saliqa heads in from the common room.
Saliqa has arrived.
Ivana hands over the teeth and sits on the cot, leaning over it to -- as directed -- watch.
Taikrin is here, though she's strangely subdued-- as she has been for the last several days. She's reclining on her cot and idly working her weak arm out with one of the weights. Her gaze lingers on those nearby - particular Shad and Ivana - though she doesn't comment. Yet.
Warucori heads in from the common room.
Warucori has arrived.
Milani heads in from the common room.
Milani has arrived.
After a day of anticipation, the dragons begin their humming in the early evening. It starts low and soft, and then increases steadily, until it can be heard across the weyr, echoing into caverns and crevices, leaving no doubt: it's time!
Shad starts with the one he suspects won't make it ... the most rotten and decayed of the teeth. "This one might not survive, but I'll try." And gets to work.
Gustav has been here the entire time. He's on his cot, stretched out and staring at the ceiling. He's oddly calm and relaxed, though there's the impatient twitching of his foot as the ever present humming continues.
There's humming going on! And shortly thereafter, running footsteps as the headwoman and one of her assistants come into the barracks. "Everyone who's here, into robes, right quick please! Then we'll line up and take you over to the Bowl, the eggs are hatching!" Brisk. Cheery! Go figure.
Saliqa bustles into the quarters shortly on the heels of the assistant, catching ends of words-- which, as it turns out, is plenty to now what's going on, what with the tension that's been hovering all day. Picking past suddenly active candidates, she has to go all the way to the back of the cavern to find a cot, and a neatly folded robe waiting on her pillow.
Silarra strides in with a rare geniune grin on her face and an almost finished meatroll in her hand. At the sound of humming, she quickly shoves the rest into her mouth, heading for her cot and the robe there. There's nothing to say, because, well, her mouth is stuffed pretty full.
Taikrin /was/ relaxed; as Milani bursts into the room, though, she very nearly falls off her bunk. "Wait-- wha?!" Dismay colors her voice, even as she pushes herself upright and digs out her own robe. "S'time /already/?!"
Inviere is here, and quiet in her bunk: having had a day's worth of warning, she's already done her hair and slipped into her robe; now she looks up from her reading with a furrowed brow. She sighs, claps the book shut, and sits up.
Ivana sits up straight with a gasp. "Shad, just put th'teeth in th'press? We'll figure it out later..?" She's up off the cot, her face pale again. "Just hope that one didn't break..."
After helping out with all the preparations at least a little bit, Teris has been hanging out on her cot for the last little while, waiting for just this moment. She's eaten, braided her hair, found a robe and now she eyes the headwoman and her assistants as they enter, not looking as prepared as she'd probably like to be.
Xeoshen is just coming into the barracks, when the humming starts. It makes him freeze for a moment. "Is that what I think it is?" He asks, and then Milani confirms it. "Shards." He mutters, and hurries over to his cot, and digs out his own robe.
Gustav stands up and rips off his clothes, underneath is his hatching robe. Okay, not really. He gets up slowly and digs through his press, finding the rumbled looking thing in a ball at the bottom. Without wasting anytime he changes into it. Then it's just waiting for the signal.
Vyshani was not here, she was chopping vegetables! Or pilfering them. Either way, when the Bollian lass does come skittering in, she's got half an onion still in one hand, the other being claimed by a tall skinny girl from Lemos. "Slow down Neraya!"
Warucori is coming in behind Saliqua and Xeoshen, looking all thoughtful and fixated on her current plan of action. Going right to her cot she quickly kneels and starts digging around in the footlocker for her bathing supplies and a change of resh clothes. She stops as she hears the humming, spilling one of the jars of sweetsand all over the inside of her press. "But I have to take a bath." SHe says, putting both hands on her hair.
Shad, about to start with Ivana's teeth, glances up and swallows hard. "Right. Later." He hurries to put everything away and grabs for his robe.
One candidate is kind of just standing there in shock and Milani heads right on over, gives her a light shake. "Robe! Now! Come on, the eggs won't wait!" That's sing-songed at least, then she steps away to the door. "Pair up, and let's get moving, all of you!" Chop chop! She waves a hand towards Giorda too, who's nudging another candidate along, the headwoman and assistant apparently quite prepared to bodily move folks.
Ivana runs for her cot too after a very grateful look at Shad, and rips clothing off, heedless of who might see. Her robe is on in record time. She exchanges her clogs for thick soled shoes, and she's ready.
Teris blinks. Pair up? She has her robe changed into in short order without showing off anything interesting. But the pairing up thing seems to have thrown her for a bit of a loop.
Taikrin strips almost completely nude without a moment's thought, then stuffs herself sloppily into the robe. She's still adjusting the sash around her waist, idly, as she cuts across the room towards Saliqa's cot with a terribly concerned expression. "Y'ready?"
Inviere, as one might expect, does not look too keen on this whole "pairing up" thing. She hoists herself to her feet, sure, but only to fold her arms and sort of glower around her immediate area, as if daring one of her fellows to be the first to try it.
Getting into a robe without anyone seeing you undress is a skill Saliqa spends half as much time on as she should, seeing as how they're not being hurried. Luckily, no one's really paying attention to /other people/ right now. Her hair is short but she fusses with it a few seconds before eyeing the spot indicated by the assistant. Her hands flex by her side, nervous and empty. "Yes," she intones flatly to Taikrin, a clear lie. "Stand by me."
Zarenya wasn't here either. She was off in the stables. Or so it might have seemed when she came in -earlier-. But now she looks moderately clean with that fresh-from-the-baths harried and hurried look. Hair still soggy and dripping but easily swept back into a loose ponytail, she comes streaking in toward her bunk. Okay, not -streaking-, but damn near close. She makes the effort to get robe and shoes on but hardly seems all happy about this. Pair up? She lingers near Vy, claiming her with a linked arm when the other girl is ready. Without a word, too. Besides a grumble.
Xeoshen quickly changes out of his clothes, and into the robe, changing into his shoes as well, before he moves to pair up with another candidate as the Headwoman says. "Good luck guys." He says to the other candidates.
Hatching Sands, High Reaches Weyr
Whether one enters from the main bowl entrance or one of the smaller tunnels at the back of the cavern, golden-brown sand glitters and swelters in every direction. Close inspection reveals that while the large egg pieces have been gathered up, small fragments remain mixed into the hot sand, record of a thousand hatchings. The main source of light is a huge window of sky high in the wall that also serves as an aerial entrance, its overhang just deep enough to admit light and cooler air but fend off harsher weather.
The sands' setting designs them to be the focus of the vast amphitheater, with tiers upon tiers of galleries rising up its southwestern side near the tunnel to the bowl, and rings of dragon ledges higher yet: heat and architecture combining into what can be a palpable sense of pressure.
Contents:
Shad
Saliqa
Meara
Leova
K'del
Cadejoth
Iovniath
Obvious exits:
Galleries
A minty green head pokes free from a small hole within the With The Candlestick Egg, followed rapidly by the rest of her. Once entirely detangled from her former home, she launches herself into the fray, inspecting one candidate after another, then moving on again. With a trail of disappointment left in her wake, she finally finds what she's after in the form of a gangly girl from the lower caverns - and the very first Impression is made.
"You know it," Leova's got to agree. Her gaze slips briefly towards so-excited weyrleader over there, and the larger pair beyond, before she takes another step back. "So long as one doesn't go after Mil... /shells/." Off she strides, seeking to intercept the newly-Impressed green-and-lifemate and take them /out/.
Taikrin is walking as close to Saliqa as she can manage without being actually on /top/ of the other girl. Nervousness wars with dismay on pale features already shiny with sweat-- and she's barely stepped onto the sands. "S'gonna be okay," she murmurs unconvincingly. "Y'r gonna do fine, I know it."
Meara looks amused, bounding on unrestrained energy, as that green Impresses no sooner than there are candidates on the sand for her to pick from. /She/ casts a glance at the Weyrleaders, bobbing her head towards them, then turns her attention back to the eggs: which one, then, will be next?
After resting a few moments, the Elegant Figure Eight Egg tilts, rolls in a stately arabesque across the hot sands. When it comes to rest, it spins another quarter-turn in place, digging itself in snug again. A thin line of a crack is running down the shell, but it does not widen. It's definitely /not/ too soon for some, though: the constant, low-level shuddering performed by the Natural Twenty Egg finally fades away into nothing as pieces begin to break free, followed by the arrival of a tail forcefully pushed straight through. The brown that shakes itself free is almost bronze-sized, though his mahogany-tinted hide is undeniably brown. He finds a High Reaches Hold boy in short order; the boy leads him off with one hand draped possessively over neckridges.
Inviere trails in just about at the end of the line, alone-ish; the space immediately to her left is occupied by a particularly nervous-looking brunette, but to say they're "paired" is... a bit of a misnomer.
Saliqa has, somewhere between the quarters and sands, managed to squirm her fingers within Taikrin's-- which may help with the whole closeness. Her face is near stony, which doesn't let her look nervous, but also blocks her from looking anything happy. "I'm not sure there /is/ much to do," she tries to joke with the girl near her. Other familiar faces are eventually searched for, but the eggs are soon distracting enough.
Silarra quickly makes her way over to Taikrin's other side. Forget whoever she was partnered up with for coming in. "Look a green! Already! They barely got us here." She comments to the two. Her eyes fix on the eggs, trying to keep track of it all.
Shad watches the green that just hatched in awe, then grins over at Ivana. "Good luck." He tells her. And then the brown catches his attention. "Man, this is happening fast."
Teris stands near to a younger girl, her pair for these purposes and while the younger girl tugs uncomfortably at her robe, the blonde does much the same despite her otherwise composed air.
From its new position, the Elegant Figure Eight Egg attempts a few more movements, twists and turns and one extended slide down a small hillock in the sand, all terribly graceful. Then, suddenly, it is wrenched from inside in a single jagged movement that splits the shell open along the previous fault. The brown inside inelegantly demolishes the rest of the egg in the process of getting out.
>---< Frost and Fisticuffs Brown >-------------------------------------------<
He might seem a carving of sleek, varnished ash wood, but no woodcarver
would have built a dragon so wide--he has shoulders like a burdenbeast,
limbs that will be as big around as the trunks of ancient trees. The
muscles are not well defined but obviously present, the enormous padded
bulk of his body making an average-sized brown seem behemoth. His hide is
pale as blond wood, smooth over the blocky body and haunches, only faint
striations of lighter and darker colors running through it like woodgrain.
Huge, broad wings become more pallid still, their sails lit with silver
frost. A slim trail of white curves over the left wing only, as though a
long-faded scar from some unknown injury. Whatever trauma he seems to have
endured in the egg, it also seems to have left him without one of his
front teeth on the top, the gap obvious whenever he opens his mouth.
>----------------------------------------------------------------------------<
K'del points out the green, and then the brown, to Tiriana, excitedly; even she looks pleased. He takes a long swig from the wineskin he carries, murmuring something up to the exultant Cadejoth.
Oh great, things are already exploding out of the egg. Gustav's face looks less than enthusiastic. His hand holding partner clearly gets tired of dealing with him (and him hitting on her while she's way nervous and looking ready to cry) and ditches him once they reach the sands, shuffling over to another girl. This leaves him pretty much alone and up to his own devices, which take him near Teris. He stands near her and tries to look nonchalent. They're totally friends, right?
Xeoshen minces out onto the sands with his paired up partner, the poor young boy looks a bit nervous to be paired with him, but they're stuck like that for now. He makes his way toward the group, and stops with the other candidates. He blinks at the green who hatches, and impresses. "Shards, that was fast." He says, and looks back to the eggs, in time to see the brown hatch.
Warucori tugs down the side of her robe as she goes, trying to stay close to the healer-candidate that she's latched onto. Though she doesn't know the boy very well...and what does it matter anyway right? She looks towards the familiar faces once she's in a spot around the eggs, murmuring to herself, "I don't know how I can hardly watch it all." She breaths to herself and fights the urge to back-step it right back off the stands as she sees the eggs actually hatching open. "oh!"
It may have been too soon for The Morning After Egg to have moved, as such, but evidently the hatchling within can't wait forever. It /definitely/ just moved a second time. Just a light wobble, barely any bigger than the last one, and equally tentative. As slow as it is, there are definite hairline cracks forming in the apex of its shell: hatching can't be /too/ far off. A crash and a bang send the Yellow Monster Egg rolling splotch over splotch, sending sunny chips of shell scattering to the sand beneath. Despite this impressive first movement, it stills again afterwards, as meekly quiet as any egg could ever be. Go ahead, bet on whether that lasts!
"Good luck t'you too," Ivana says breathlessly to Shad, as the circle of candidates gets wider. She tries to stay with Shad as the crowd of candidates shifts, and apologizes to another candidate for nearly stepping on her foot.
Taikrin isn't having any success with her attempts at nonchalance, though she /is/ trying. "They're comin' so fast an' I forgot what t'think an' I didn't eat all th'meat I should an' /shards/ what're we gonna do?!" A quick glance at Saliqa, and a quicker finger squeeze, before she's back to scanning the rolling eggs and the loose brown. "They're so /big/..."
Teris shakes her head when she notices Gustav getting closer but it must be more of a warning than anything else because she doesn't open her mouth to actually tell him to shove off and leave her alone. Distracted and everything, of course.
Vyshani enters alongside Zarenya, a bundle of barely restrained energy as her steps almost bounce. "Oh, some have hatched already? Can you see, what's going on? Where's Neraya?" Not that any of her questions are anything other than a verbal expression of excitement, as proper forms are met and the pair move to find a place.
Inviere, not near enough to take much notice of the newly hatched brown, just about leaves her Sands partner behind as she takes up a position nearish Saliqa, Taikrin, and their fellows. Uselessly, she beats some sand off her robe.
After making short work of his egg, Frost and Fisticuffs Brown finally turns his whole body to regard the Candidates out there. He stomps his feet, twists his neck almost as though cracking it, and gives all those white-robed creatures a steely-eyed once-over. He gives a throaty trumpet and moves out towards them, surprisingly graceful despite his bulk and infancy.
Brenoran takes his place somewhere in the middle of the other candidates. Sure there was some information on what to do in the previous weeks of candidacy, but then talking beforehand and then actually being out there on the sands with the eggs hatching. "'Luck," he mutters back to whoever's beside him.
Saliqa is having some difficulty keeping up with everything that's going on; her head whips from side to side quite enthusiastically. "What is... over there! What are you-- no, the meat doesn't matter. They said it doesn't matter. I hope it doesn't matter..." She loses confidence as she goes, a last desperate glance letting her find Inviere. Her free hand beckons her closer yet.
Silarra looks out to the dragons. "And they're soo /gooey/." She states looking towards Taikrin and Saliqa. She apparently plans to just insinuate herself in with them. "Big and gooey. Especially that one." She points over to the brown. "K'del said to eat just so we weren't hungry 'cause we wouldn't have time.
/Crack/. It happens so suddenly, in the end, that it seems to leave the hatchling within in a state of confused surprise. The Morning After Egg breaks into two distinct pieces, which promptly fall into shards upon the sand below. The blue within? He blinks, several times, slowly, then takes a hesitant, wobbling step forward. Well. If he's /out/...
>---< Ride The Wave Blue >---------------------------------------------------<
An indigo wave crashes over the craggy ridges of this mid-sized blue,
sending tendrils of bluish purple towards the inky depths of his shadowed
belly and haunches, where tensing muscles offer flashes of brighter color
like cavorting tropical fish. Paler aqua bubbles around the tips of those
sharp points as they make their way from his head to the tip of his
shorter-than-usual tail; across his wingsails, shades of blue-upon-blue
wash from edge to edge, seeming to endlessly shift as he moves, barely
constrained by silver-touched pinions. Despite the pointedness of those
ridges, he's built to lean lines, light padding softening what might
otherwise be sharp edges - a theme carried through to the boneless
relaxation that marks the lazy movements of his head, not to mention his
languorous gait.
>----------------------------------------------------------------------------<
"Hey, everyone's gooey when they're first born." Shad comments. "And this is happening insanely fast."
Gustav gets closer to the woman who is not so much his friend. And since Teris doesn't throw a punch or really try to get him away from her, he settles there. He casts a glance down at her but doesn't try to generate any sort of small talk between them just yet.
Inviere's attention is briefly captured, then, by that trumpet -- her startled gaze flickers light-fast to the brown and then, disinterested, wanders away again. In traveling, it lands on Saliqa and her hand; something in her face falters. Her fingers twitch at her sides, and she inches a few wary steps closer.
Meara escorts the newest weyrling to the barracks, then makes her way back, crossing arms in front of her as her gaze considers the blue and brown currently wandering the sands. "Solid hatchlings," is her murmured remark.
Warucori's nose crinkles up and she looks towards Silarra and the girls clustered together with longing. She wants to be there. TO be behind them. Hey, that might not be such a bad idea. "Oh, you're right......slippery and sticky and....this really doesn't seem like such a good idea now you know." WHen the blue hatches, all silver and sharp-edged she grits her teeth and takes a few steps towards the familiar faces, leaving her healer-partner to himself. Poor guy.
Teris can just ignore Gustav in that case. All the easier when the younger girl to her other side lifts a hand to take hers. She doesn't say anything to that either, but glances down briefly, hesitantly, before her gaze is back up to watch the hatching dragonets.
Frost and Fisticuffs Brown makes his first attempt at opening up his wings as he nears a cluster of Weyrbred boys, and nearly loses his balance in doing so. One of them snickers nervously and the brown turns almost on heel to go off and examine the others. After that, his interest shifts to a couple of very girly girls, and he barrels at them, a stampede of heavy steps. They scatter; he dismisses them with a huff of breath and moves on.
Zarenya sideglances over at the robe of bounciness that is Vyshani and stares at her a long few seconds, but deciding to humor her, she points to.. some random person. "Over, uh. There! That's her, isn't it? The one with the big rump? No, wait. Goob-Babria or whater her name is." However, it's the trumpeting and the other commotions that make the convict jump and whip her head back around to eye the hatchlings warily. "Oh, oh, oh. They're coming over."
A quiver from the Yellow Monster Egg sets it to shifting sand once more, more flakes of yellow sailing free as the tip of a talon pokes out. The egg shudders and tips, more cracks beginning to appear, though the hatchling within remains trapped for at least a little while longer. And, given that displeased noise that's not quite a warble... it's not happy. Better Take A Drink Egg starts slow, an amusing pivot within the small wallow in which it is entrenched. A twitch here, a twitch there, then it falls dormant once more, no doubt waiting for the appropriate time to take the next dri... er... move.
Taikrin doesn't turn to acknowledge Silarra-- her gaze is focused almost exclusively now on the newly-hatched blue and browns -- but her comment might indeed be directed towards her. "Didn't know they came out messy like that..." She pulls herself closer towards Saliqa, if it's even possible. "I ain't-- I dunno. S'gonna be okay. Y'gotta have one out here, just gotta stay alive t'get there. But-- shells, lookit him. That brown. Be ready t'run if he comes over here."
Xeoshen raises an eyebrow at the trumpet from the brown. "He looks like a quick one." He remarks to whoevers around him. "A bit of a loud one too." He says. The boy next to him fidgets as he watches the dragons, trying to not look at his 'partner'. Obviously Xeo wasn't his first choice in partners. Xeoshen turns at the sound of cracking, and notes the blue as well. "Shards, this is moving fast." He mutters, and turns as the brown barrel;s into a group. "Have ta watch that one."
Saliqa is nodding to something-- what, who knows; possibly, she's acknowledging Silarra's new inclusion in their close finger-knitted group. Something reminds her to slip up onto her toes and scout around until she has pegged Gustav's location. Back to Inviere, lightning fast. This time the beckoning is accompanied with: "Come on, then!" Then it becomes too difficult to ignore that hatchlings are getting closer, and Taikrin. "What-- run?"
Heeeeey man, what's that over there? The Ride The Wave blue teeters a little, steps uncertain and pauses to get his balance, like a surfer finding the groove at the crest of a wave. The tide's moving on though and so is the hatchling, tail twitching back and forth a little as he noses at another egg, mesmerized for a few moments by the brightly colored patterns on the shell. There's /movement/ though, over there. Heeeey, what's all that? /Who/ are they?
Inviere looks as if she might just settle into synchronous orbit somewhere in Saliqa's vicinity, but at the last second, makes a decision: she darts forward and puts her sweaty hand in the Crom girl's. Her eyes are fixed straight ahead, on an interesting patch of air just beyond her nose. "Thanks," she manages eventually. She lifts one foot, puts it back down. Ow ow ow.
Gustav crosses his arms over his chest, a clue to his actual nervousness. The quick movements of that brown across the sands, the whole barreling thing. It doesn't have him looking excited. He tracks its progress with his eyes and he steps back, lips pursed tightly together.
Silarra smirks as the brown makes the girls scatter. "You might need to run, but please don't destroy all our ears with shrieking." Silarra states. "Guess it makes sense. Humans are all icky when they come out, too." Silarra decides, scanning the group to find Gabrion, giving him a smirk across the cluster as she catches him biting his nails.
Shad grins at the blue dragonet and the second brown. "Wow. They're kinda awesome, aren't they?" The comment is mostly intended for himself, rather than something to be answered by someone.
With a final powerful shove, the hatchling within the Yellow Monster Egg tears free, sending large chunks of shell sailing in her wake. /She/ has no time to waste on them: the sands are calling, her wings are flapping, the whole world lies ahead. Now, if only she can stop stepping on her tail!
Vyshani blinks at Ren, "Big ru--" Then she's actually laughing and shaking her head. "No no, Ner's tall and ski-- wait, what? Where?" Up on her toes she goes, as if that will help her see any better between all the white and wobbling and gooey dragonets.
>---< Rambling Brambly Bacchante Green >-------------------------------------<
She's wont to sprawl, the hawk-nosed young green, her long limbs
carelessly every-which-way. She also may not seem particularly bright at
first, not even physically, with her deep-hooded eyes and her muted
coloring that's drab and faded as though from some old stain. Brown,
jagged lines slash up her legs like so many thorned brambles, pricking
dots of ichor green here and there against the faded background, becoming
a tangled thicket across her narrow flanks. They might as well be real,
given how ungainly with youth she is, as much an impediment as her already
overgrown wingsails: translucent as though with foliage's new growth, a
fine-veined net to trap the unwary if only they are strong enough to hold.
>----------------------------------------------------------------------------<
Ivana glances down at the sands; in all this chaos it's the sands that seem to bring her back to calm. She looks up to the stands for a moment, searching for a familiar face, but doesn't find it. Another candidiate bumps *her*, this time, and she turns her attention back to Shad and Xeo's voice nearby. "Just be ready t'move," she calls back.
Cadejoth leans forward to get a better look, his long neck arching over the eggs and sending some of the candidates moving backwards. K'del puts a hand on his side again, and the bronze retracts his head, his hum nonetheless still warm and delighted.
Warucori has to dodge to avoid one of those girly-girls charging at her and her hands reach out to catch her up before she can get run over. "It's...it's...ok. Easy there." She hisses, trying not to fall down herself. Once the girl has hurried on behind her, Cori takes note of the sands again, checking for distance between herself and the stumbling young dragons.
Taikrin nods, curtly, as tension rises in her slight figure. "Yeah. Look how he went after those girls. Y'gotta be careful." A swift glance is directed at Silarra then, eyes faintly narrows. "Ain't funny. Big guy like him could do some damage, iffen he pleased."
When the Frost and Fisticuffs Brown Hatchling rushes at one particular dark-haired former convict, it almost seems a foregone conclusion that she's going to be bowled over. Instead, he slides to a stop just inches from her, wings fanning, and looks up with wide and whirling eyes all for Taikrin.
>----------------------------------------------------------------------------<
A breath of cold invades your thoughts like an ice-cream headache, only
instead of pain there is only an intractable pressure. << Taikrin?
/Taikrin/! >> Just in case you weren't paying attention, suddenly he ramps
up the volume, your name vibrating in your own head. That brown is looking
at you. Yes, you. << You're Taikrin. Szadath. I'm Szadath. Whew. Now that
we're all warmed up, can we get down to the eating? >>
>----------------------------------------------------------------------------<
Impossibly tiny, the cracks that begin to spread across the One Hundred and Eighty Egg aren't even visible until - with an almighty /crack/ - the whole thing collapses in on itself, raining shards down on the burnished bronze within. Intent interest carries him directly towards a group of candidates, where weyrbred Calarid drops to his knees as he wraps strong arms about the narrow creature's body.
Inviere is all grit teeth and narrowed, restless eyes now, with occasional twitches and half-starts when it seems she might need to dodge. "Good luck," she says sideways to Saliqa -- and if there was going to be something else there, it's lost when her neighbor Takrin is claimed. Her eyes widen, and her free hand reaches to push a sweaty bit of hair from their view. "...wow."
Teris tenses somewhat and the girl beside her steps back along with Gustav, loosening her grip on the blonde's hand. Teris doesn't step back, though. She stands where she is and watches as the brown finds who he's looking for before attention is back on everything else.
Ride The Wave Blue tilts his head up, fascinated by the candidates, the flickers of movement from the galleries, but mostly the young people who are nearest by. He pokes his muzzle forward to inhaaaale deeply at the hem of one girl's robe, making her giggle in spite of wrung-together palms. It's on to take a closer look at the pattern twisted leather straps make against skin on one boy's feet and then another and another, each candidate nosed or nudged lightly, examined with a steady azure gaze that as yet, avoids making eye contact.
Gustav's eyebrows lift as the brown slides to a stop in front of Taikrin. Well then. He snorts, but the look on his face isn't altogether surprised looking. There's a sympathetic look to the nervous girl backing away from Teris. "It's alright." He says lightly before looking away again.
Taikrin isn't oblivious to the onrushing brown, though she only catches the end of his rush. "Get ready to-- to--..." Eyes go suddenly wide, and her fingers slacken then slip of of Saliqa's. She's on one knee, suddenly, and there are tears in her eyes she'll never admit to later. "I-- I-- Szadath. Of... of course." A hand reaches out, tentatively, to touch the brown's head. "Eating. Right. Y'must be starvin'..."
Saliqa shows the first traces of a smile when Inviere takes her hand, but attention diverts to what appears to be that same brown hatchling coming exactly for them. "Oh, ru--" Though she detaches from Taikrin's hand in order for them both to haul away, it's clear something else is going on. "Oh." Good thing Inviere's there, because now she /really/ needs a hand to squeeze.
Meara, with an uneven kind of smile, heads across towards Taikrin and her brown as the pair find each other. Eyebrows raised - well, there's not /too/ much judgement here - she gives them a glance up and down before beckoning them onwards. "Food through here, weyrling, for your brown." Okay: /there's/ the grin, here after all. "C'mon with me."
One of the Rambling Brambly Bacchante Green Hatchling's wings hooks on a neckridge, but after the first reflexive tug that yanks a screech from her throat, both sails relinquish large-scale movements in favor of a low, twitchy vibration that picks up the dragons' hum. Her neck stretches back and forth, this way and that way, like a long and particularly loopy vine. Her eyes are red, she's looking and looking, and then she hastens in awkward leaps past a waystation girl and her frie... no. She pauses. Gives the black-haired girl a long stare even as her shoulders twitch and twitch again, but when she gets her wing freed, she leaves too. Heads for another cluster, back in the direction she'd been going. But there are eggs and hatchlings between her and her destination, and she's got to get there /first/.
Dragon> To you, Szadath projects, << Starving! That's the word for it. Starving. Starving and we need food. Lots of food. This calls for celebrating. Big-time celebrating. You and me, Taikrin. You and me! >>
Weyrling Barracks, High Reaches Weyr(#395RAs)
Tucked off the back of the training room, the barracks are a huge, high cavern that stretches far back into the stone of the Weyr. Both of the longer walls are lined with couches for the dragons, enough for a couple of Pass-sized clutches at once, each matched with a cot and press for the weyrling dragonrider. In this day and age, however, the couches in the back have been allowed to grow dusty with long disuse. Hearths are spaced between every few couches to heat the big room.
For decoration, there are a number of tapestries on the walls, looking almost as beat-up as the couches out in the training room, but scattered flower pots with their bright blooming contents provide a cheery touch. Additionally, some of the couches have had graffiti scratched into them over the Turns that were never quite cleaned off: smears of chalk messages or even rough pictures, some not fit for young eyes. In many cases names and dates have been painstakingly carved into the rock, a record of those that once made their home here.
Contents:
Aleis
C'sel
Obvious exits:
Training Cavern
Meara has arrived.
HRW-SAND> Inviere covers Saliqa's hand with her free one, making a sandwich of her palm and fingers. If she has something else to say, she lets her clammy, ruddy flesh do the talking. Well. That, and the barest smile.
HRW-SAND> Silarra smirks a smile at the impression beside her. "Didn't need to run after all, did you?" She states with a joking tone. "Congratulations." But then she's looking over towards Saliqa for a just a moment. She starts to offer her hand and then pulls it back looking out towards the dragon eggs.
HRW-SAND> Better Take A Drink Egg has seen one too many reasons to stay silent for much longer. A tipsy sloshing must be the very innards of the egg breaking loose. Oh, Weyr, if you thought you were safe before, that's obviously not the case: King of Improv Blue Hatchling is on the loose!
HRW-SAND>
>---< King of Improv Blue >--------------------------------------------------<
A spotlight showcases this brilliantly blue dragon, a cobalt cloak of
debonair charm draped over a well-built physique. That classic hue colors
all his lean lines, hardly changing from tip to tail. His headknobs are
blocky and blunt, his face charismatic with only a single shift of color:
prussian blue shadowing the tip of his snout, a gentleman's groomed goatee
in draconic proportion. Gentleman he is not, however, not with those
wickedly sloping neckridges, nor his cocksure tail or rakishly angled
wings, their narrow spars edged in powdery pale blue. Broad paws tipped
with just as shockingly light talons attempt to ground him, but a
jokester's eternal cheer enlivens every movement.
>----------------------------------------------------------------------------<
HRW-SAND> Xeoshen tenses, ready to get outb of the way of any charging hatchlings, as he keeps an eye on the closest, the brown. When he impresses though, he grins. "Taikrin? Alright Taikrin!" He cheers toward the fellow, well now ex, convict candidate. "Szadath, he looks like an interesting one." He says, moving as the line moves to fill the gaps, his partner moving along with him.
HRW-SAND> Teris, at least, assumes Gustav is talking to the other girl. That or she doesn't hear him at all as focused as she is on the dragons milling about looking for their lifemate.
As unruffled as ever, C'sel stands at the ready near to the barracks-entrance to 'catch' incoming weyrlings, a bowl of meat ready in hand to extend to whomever comes in next and a calm: "Congratulations," to offer.
HRW-SAND> Ivana rises up on her toes when the noise level goes up, and sees Taikrin's Impression. She takes a few steps in that direction, head swiveling to make sure she's not in any dangerous path. Xeoshen appears on her left, and she waves. "Doing all right?" she calls.
HRW-SAND> Despite his continued exploration of the sands, there's no real haste from the Ride the Wave Blue Hatchling, though his eyes betray some agitation, whirling red as candidate after candidate is considered and discarded. Finally, backtracking past some giggling girls from the lower caverns, his stubby tail twitching thoughtfully, he seems to find /something/. He takes a few steps, then a few more, then alters his path entirely for a final time, as he meets for the first time the gaze of his one-and-only: his Shad.
In the barracks, the assistants have been waiting. Aleis has a flask. This is probably not on Meara's approved list of equipment for the hatching, but as soon as weyrlings start to arrive it gets tucked away. "Coming already? Hi, there. Welcome. Congrats and--like he said." C'sel has the whole meat thing under control, leaving her waiting for the next to do the same honors.
Taikrin is incredibly bemused as she trips back towards the barracks, keeping one hand in contact with Szadath at all times. "Yeah, celebrate." There's a grin growing there, though, slowly but surely. "He's hungry!" The bowl of meat is taken with barely an acknowledging nod, and she only makes it a few more steps before plopping down to start offering chunks to the brown.
HRW-SAND> K'del doesn't seem to be able to keep up, his eyes on everything and everyone. "Look!" he says, as the blue Impresses; Taikrin's Impression seems to pass him by entirely, no doubt to sink in later.
Szadath has arrived.
HRW-SAND> Better Take A Drink Egg somehow suddenly spins about twice, almost waylaying a fellow egg by bouncing up out of the shallow crater. Whatever is inside obviously is ready to be *outside*, and a drunken twitching takes over the egg in sudden impatient anticipation. It's subtle, at first: a single link in the chain flaking off from the Send Someone Over Egg and dropping to the sand below. Stillness follows, as though nothing happened at all - and then the egg itself begins to shake, just barely, vibrating back and forth and back and forth.
HRW-SAND> Warucori stares from blue to green, "they are so different. I think.....oh, she doesn't look very happy. I don't think. No......" She sees Taikrin leaving the sands and her eyes widen. "He picked her? Ohmygoodness...." her lips twitch up into a smile. "Did you see it?" She's asking the healer lad, but he's too far gone ith panic that he doesn't pay her any mind.
HRW-SAND> Saliqa delivers in kind to Inviere; though it's hard to find a lot of cheer in the thin, close-mouthed smile that quivers more than it holds. More than the dragons now, she seems to be eyeing that place where Taikrin disappeared when she's not eyeing the stands and all those eyeing back. Somewhere in there, she squares her shoulders almost defensively.
HRW-SAND> Vyshani is having a time of it. There's just too many directions to look in! Look left, miss what's happening to the right, look right and-- She sidesteps into her fellow. "Oh. Ren. Renrenren!" She aims a tug at the other candidate's arm, staring wide-eyed at the Brambly green. "Oh...." Still wide eyes track the hatchling's progress away, and then she's turning breathlessly to look at the taller girl. "Did you /see/ how /close/ she was!?"
Meara escorts Taikrin and Szadath into the barracks, raising one eyebrow at her assistants once she gets there, but there's no time to linger: back to the sands!
Meara heads to the sands.
Meara has left.
HRW-SAND> Meara heads in from a tunnel off to the side.
HRW-SAND> Meara has arrived.
C'sel's mouth quirks faintly to the side as Taikrin swipes that bowl. Hey look! He smiled! And just as soon as that's done, he's turning to collect another bowl from the table behind him. OCD much? "Make sure that he chews," he informs Taikrin in an even voice.
HRW-SAND> Inviere squeezes hard and then releases one of two hands, though she seems at a loss what to do with that second one now. It flutters at her side, picks at the course fabric of her robe. "They don't... /look/ dangerous," she ventures eventually, though she keeps her attention shifting. You know. Just in case she's wrong.
HRW-SAND> Shad grins and cheers when Taikrin Impresses. "Way to go!" And then he watches as the one blue works his way from Candidate to Candidate. And then ... "Akuath." Awed, stunned, and totally overwhelmed. He reaches out to touch, hesitantly.
HRW-SAND> King of Improv Blue gives a stretch, the motion unhurried. It rises from his light talons up through body and wings to flare gooey wingsails in an impressive span. That stage-setting show done, he takes a hopping step forwards, craning his head in obvious bemusement to stare after a too-close candidate who goes flailing backwards. Ha! Ten points for not falling, and /spectacularly/ balanced wobbling.
HRW-SAND> Xeoshen nods to Ivana. "Alright so far, this is going by so sharding quick though." He says. "Didn't think they'd be so...big." He adds. "How are ya holdin' up?" He asks her, keeping his eyes looking around. "I think that blue impressed...I think."
Szadath comes tromping off the sands with his Taikrin. There's the guy with the meat, and he's really interested in that guy. Anybody else besides Taikrin and that guy, not interesting. He is a dragon with his game face on. He is a dragon who is hungry--as a rumbling belly soon proves.