The Hatching of Gold Lhiannonth and Bronze Jaireth's Clutch
PernMUSH, September 21, 2008
The World of Pern is
copyright(c) to Anne McCaffrey l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a
registered copyright.
IgenW-Sands>> Jaireth seems deathly silent until now. Where before he looks
content to watch the clutch, something has him drawing himself up to his
bulk height and starting off the very familiar humming in the grounds. Head
lifting up, he gives the sound and signal that quickly catches on from
watchdragon to those settled in the Weyr bowl.
You stride into the Candidates' Barracks.
Chaton yawns and streches on his bed, stroking Destin, idly wasting away
time. Time, time, time. "Hey. Anyone up for a game of pickup-sticks later?"
he asks, wrinkling his nose.
Dragon> Igen dragons sense that Lhiannonth calls to Igen dragons, a
throbbing hum underscoring her words, << The eggs! They begin to hatch! >>
IgenW-Sands>> A'deth walks in from the Weyrling Barracks.
Auste somehow manages to be even less industrious than Beli; instead of
doing chores (which the redhead /most/ certainly should be doing) she's
lounging on her cot, feet dangling over the edge and bumping, thump-thump,
against her press. Chaton's query garners a grunt of affirmation from the
girl, though she doesn't move from that languid position.
Kassima enters at such a run that her boots practically leave marks on the
stone when she stops; she's still trying to get an earring in her ear, and
the resultant cockeyed look might be amusing if it weren't for what she
calls. "Candidates! D'you hear--" The bone-deep hum throbs through the
walls themselves, it seems. "--That. Into your robes! Hurry!"
Iesia wanders into the barracks, rubbing at her nose idly. She wears a
funny sort of expression, something between amusement and fondness. It
doesn't last long, and she passes Beli on the way to her own cot. She's
given a brief narrowing of her eyes, but Iesia keeps her mouth shut.
Wouldn't want to envoke the wrath of... Beli?
Beli cracks open an eye - apparently the meditation/communing is easily
interrupted - to regard Chaton. "Which chores did you have today?" Because
if they're the same ones she had, it doesn't look like much is getting
done. But then Kassima is there, and running, and earring-ing, and then:
robe. Robe!
IgenW-Sands>> Lhiannonth doesn't even build up her humming: suddenly it's
just *there*, a low, continuous throbbing, and she shuffles closer to
Jaireth, head lowering to watch intently as the eggs begin - just a few,
here and there - to shiver and shift.
Kaveshun was laying facedown on his cot, shirtless as his shoulders were
bare and obviously sunburnt. Right along his head was his little bronze,
still young and with a pile of random trinkets here and there from around
the caverns that were brought to to be the 'lizards hoard. "A game?" he
groans, moving his head. And then... "Huh?" he asks Kassima as he blinks,
smart as always, and lifts his other ear off the bed to listen. It takes a
bit, but it eventually clicks, and he's rolling off his bed and falling to
the ground with a thud. Hissing, it's up and scavenging his mess for his robe.
Neiravi is equally mundane, doing what she always does when trying to fill
up loose time--sewing. In this case, she's patching up one of the other
Candidate's shirts. It looks to have been shredded by baby 'lizard claws.
"Give me ten minutes to finish this, Chaton, and you've got yourself a
game," she says without looking up. Now, Kassima's entrance and
announcement gets her to look up, blink, and swallow hard. "Or maybe not,"
she amends, setting the shirt aside. "Faranth, here we go--where the shell
is my robe?"
Celane is likewise flopped on her cot, head propped up with one arm, lazily
relaxing. But that certainly doesn't last long. There's Kassima, there's
that humming, and she's bolt upright, grabbing for her robe, shoving it
quickly as possible over head and arms.
Of all the times to be napping! Thankfully the sound of the low humming
reaches her before Kassima's words. Leaping into action in a frenzy of
tripping motion, Naara scrambles down from her bed and nearly into her
trunk as she grabs her robes and hurriedly changes into them.
Tannusen quickly shoves his notes under his cot and scrambles after his
robe, just like everyone else!
Forget odd looks. Iesia's suddenly all business, and the steps to her press
are hurried. She flips it open and, with minimal searching, finds her robe.
Off go the clothes, on goes the robe, and Iesia stands and begins knotting
her hair back. All in about two minutes time. Practice, maybe? "Ready."
Desdinova comes in a little behind Kassima, hair plastered wetly to her
face - someone was in the bathes when the humming began. She makes a
beeline for her press, the light robe she wore from the bathingcaverns
being quickly replaced with the white one for the Sands, rounded out with a
thin pair of sandals. "Ready!" She says, desperately trying to make
somethig of her hair with her fingers.
Public announcement: Josilina announces "Igen's Hatching is starting up in
a few minutes! +go igenw-bowl; wtf; hg to watch from the galleries, or come
in from the airspace to the ledges! (Or +watch igenw-sands if you just want
to watch!)"
Auste is suddenly upright at Kassima's swift entrance: bolt upright, and
tumbling forward from her mattress and scrabbling for her chest - robe,
where is robe? But soon enough she's got it (the only clean thing in the
press) and tugging it on over her head - running her hands though her hair
and still braiding it once she's standing at attention. "Ready!"
Chaton plinks up and reaches under his cot and pulls out his robe. He
quickly pulls it on, sandals next, and he grabs a comb to tame his hair and
capture it back with a pure-white tie. "Sweet!" he grins, the adreniline
pumping. (Right. All clear!)
IgenW-Sands>> B'yan can be seen arriving on sands like he's in a hurry -
his hair mussed through wet and tugging his shirt on. His eyes stay on the
clutch as he moves, only sending a sweeping look towards both the stands
and in the direction of the candidate barracks.
IgenW-Sands>> Josilina's already here, and now that the dragons are humming
she's bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement. "Oh!" she spots
B'yan, "It's happening so fast this time! Usually I have time to change."
She throws an anxious glance toward the barracks as well, "I hope Kassima
gets them out before one hatches." And indeed, it looks risky - cracks are
already beginning to bloom on a few of the more rambuctous eggs.
Beli shimmies. Shimmy into robe from the bottom, shimmy out of clothes from
the top - even her vest is laid (shimmied) aside - and then in another
quick motion, her braids are on top of her head - neatly, how odd - and her
sandals on and then she's ready, bouncing on her toes in a rhythm atop the
humming.
IgenW-Sands>> A'deth emerges from the weyrling barracks in a flutter of
blousy Igenite black, though he remains near that entrance. He doesn't seem
particularly nervous; instead, he just folds his arms and leans against the
rock wall and waits. "She will."
Neiravi digs through her trunk. Dig dig dig. "Aalyan, if you stole my robe
and hid it, Lhiannonth will have to *fight* me for your carcass...oh, here
it is." She wriggles into it and scrabbles for her hairpins. Her scalp may
suffer, but her hair will darned well *stay* pinned up. Robe, check. Hair,
check. Sandals, she's got them. Now comes the hurry-up-and-wait part.
"Anyone need a hand with hair or something?"
Kassima manages, somehow, to secure her earring and watch Candidates
scramble with anxious eyes at the same time. She's talented. When the
room's turned into a sea of white robes, she claps her hands: "All right,
follow me. Remember t'bow to the clutchparents, and nay t'be licking any
eggs!" Because that's something they were really thinking of doing just
now? "Here we go!"
Kaveshun finally finds his robe among the mess, tossing it over his head
and dropping his pants under it. He grunts and tugs to get it to fit right
before turning to nod at Kassima. "All ready, ma'am," he calls out to her.
He finds a tie to grab his red hair and put it back in its usual style,
fidgeting here and there until they march out.
"And don't call me ma'am!" Kassi yells over her shoulder.
You wend your way out to the Inner Caverns.
You walk down a long, winding corridor into the bowl.
You head north along the wall of the Bowl, towards the weyrling barracks
and the Hatching grounds.
You stride into the Weyrling Barracks.
You walk out onto the hatching sands.
Kaveshun walks in from the Weyrling Barracks.
Iesia walks in from the Weyrling Barracks.
Meilyn walks in from the Weyrling Barracks.
Celane walks in from the Weyrling Barracks.
Desdinova walks in from the Weyrling Barracks.
Auste walks in from the Weyrling Barracks.
Neiravi walks in from the Weyrling Barracks.
Tannusen walks in from the Weyrling Barracks.
Hector walks in from the Weyrling Barracks.
Beli walks in from the Weyrling Barracks.
Naara walks in from the Weyrling Barracks.
Chaton walks in from the Weyrling Barracks.
The Candidates spread out in an uneven half-circle around the eggs, and
once they've settled into place they bow to the clutchparents - almost
in-sync. Such finesse!
Iesia's bowed, so now she's free to make a bee-line for somewhere... else.
A quick glance around, and she heads for Desdinova. "Des!" she calls, voice
rather firm and even given the situation. Around a few shoulders, and she's
upon the smaller woman, reaching for her hand determinedly.
Desdinova is likewise looking for specific friends that she wants to stand
with, Naara's hand being grabbed before edging her way to one end of the
semi-circle with Iesia. "We're gonna be fine." She says, and for once the
trace of panic in ehr voice is gone. "Just stay calm and stay limber."
Hector follows the others out onto the Sands, feeling nervous and a little
awkward, patting his sweaty palms on his white robe. He steals glances
around at the others, trying to read features to see if they're feeling his
own nervous excitement. He spots Meilyn in the crowd and edges over to her,
just as he promised, and he flashes her a quick smile, hoping he looks more
confident than he feels.
Neiravi is running low on finesse; that bow with the other Candidates is
about all she can manage. She steals quick looks at Lhiannonth and Jaireth,
trusting that neither of them are hungry or especially peeved, and is ready
to stand. "Des, Naara, anyone need an extra hand?" She's already moving to
Naara's other side. Faranth knows *she* needs a little outside support.
Kaveshun was one of those few that were out of sync, but he gets up and
looks around fearfully towards the galleries first. There's not much relief
found in them before he turns those bright amber eyes upon the eggs and
starts edging towards some of the more familiar faces-- Hector and Meilyn
among them. Probably to be used as human shields.
Auste swallows, hard, a trembling to her hands and she lifts them to brush
again past her cloud of hair, over those hasty braids. There's a quick
glance around, and immediately heads the most familiar face - Chaton. Easy
enough; just duck under a few white-faced candidates and pull up next to
her friend, almost unconsciously grasping for him. "G-good luck," she
manages, and for all her former bravado right now she is just a scared,
tentative young girl.
Kassima strides in a step or two in advance of those Candidates,
hop-skipping once as the heat of the Sands climbs up through her bootsoles.
She bows to Lhiannonth and Jaireth as they do; turns afterwards to give the
group in white one more encouraging smile, and then edges back to join
A'deth. One of her hands seeks one of his as though she were a Candidate too.
Beli is all finesse, all the time. Some of the time. Maybe. She now finds
her way into the semicircle, and beside Celane. To whom she murmurs
something that sounds like, "Who was going to /lick/ them?"
Celane doesn't move too quickly, first making a quick twist of her head to
see just where everyone has ended up. And after that beat, she scampers
after Iesia, ending up near her in the crowd of candidates. "Stay calm?
How?" Hypothetical question.
The Grass is Greener Egg twitches.
Grass is Greener Egg
Green. The first thing noticed about this medium-sized egg is that it's
really green. It is a mottled egg with a green base, its spots giving off a
soft glint of even darker green spots. It is bumpy to touch and gives off a
smooshed look when turned to one side. Other than its simple and rich
color, this egg will have no problem blending in with the rest of them.
Tannusen stands near Auste, and possibly Kaveshun, looking /far/ calmer
than he is. And all but glow-in-the-dark, if it wasn't for that very slight
tan on him!
Naara, despite her earlier mad dash for her robes, is and has been mostly
calm. That is, until she straightens from her bow and sees the sheer
/masses/ of people in the galleries. Struck with the fear of small wild
things, she panics and freezes, only the grip of Nova's hand and the sound
of Neiravi's voice bringing her back. Swallowing thickly, the poor thing
does move with Desdinova, nearly plastered to her arm and side, even as
Neiravi covers her other flank.
Chaton squirms nervously, looking around at all of the peoples in the
Stands and on the Sands as well. He fidgets and jumps visibly as he's
touched by Auste and at the sound of her voice. "Good... good luck." he
says, shivering. He nods slowly and swallows, setting his teeth together.
B'yan snorts as he approaches Josilina, "About time, I'd say," is his wry
comment, trying to make himself close to presentable in damp clothes.
Regarding the candidates as they spill out onto the sands, "So. I wonder
who's to get mauled this time." It's said as if maulings happen so often.
In his presence, even.
Meilyn shoots a winning smile to Hector, as if she didn't believe he'd keep
his end of the deal and come by her side. She may be smiling, but the
nervousness on her face is showing in the way her gaze is locked only on
the eggs. She takes a few deep breaths and deems it safe enough to glance
over at the candidate beside her. The calmness doesn't last long, as she
soon returns to the slight mincing shuffle on the sands, eyes riveted
towards the coming hatching.
Grass is Greener Egg begins to quiver, softly at first and then growing in
intensity as if the very ground beneath it were quaking. As it shimmies
there on the Sands, the light plays off the egg's bumpy surface to create a
rippling effect which showcases the brilliant surface of this greenest of
green eggs.
Desdinova has people holding both of her hands in death-grips, and doesn't
seem the least worried by it. While she may have needed her friends in the
leadup to the hatching, she is all calm business now. The green egg rocking
draws an excited breath from her, and she points with the hand holding
Naara's. "Look! The green one that looks like Lime is gonna go first!" She
grins over Naara's head to Neiravi, "Good luck!" She offers her.
Neiravi is calm, calm, perfectly calm. The fact that she's squeezing
Naara's hand tightly (and the hand of whoever's on her other side) is
totally irrelevant. "They're cheering for us, Naara," she tells the younger
girl. "My dad's up there, and my friends T'nan and J'har, and they're
totally rotting for us. Dad even bet a half-mark on you because I told him
to." Hopefully this is a better, more calming thing to think about than
that quivering egg. "Thanks, Des. You too."
Iesia snorts. "Limber? You make it sound like we're going to be jogging
around the bowl. Perhaps we should do stretches?" She rolls her eyes, but
gives Desdinova's hand a firm squeeze. A little lean, and she glances over
at Naara. "Don't faint," she tells her flatly. Twitching green eggs are
ignored. Maybe.
Hector flashes a smile over at Kaveshun, Hector blissfully unaware that he
may be picked to be used by the other boy as a human shield. The eggs
somehow seem to be larger now as they're beginning to twitch. The vibration
in the air seems to give him an unsettled feeling in the pit of his
stomach. He should have stopped after the second cup of klah earlier, it
seems. "I think my feet are going to be toasted to a crisp before this is
over," he mutters to Meilyn, shifting back and forth on his feet as the hot
sand leaks into his sandals.
"What?" Josilina slants a grin to B'yan, bouncing calming only a little as
the Candidates come out. "You don't like spending day-after-day around the
sands, and finding hot sand in your skivvies every evening?" His last
prompts an eyeroll from the Weyrwoman, as she watches the Candidates still,
gaze lingering here and there and there, "Men. You and maulings, all the
time. Half the clutchfathers I've stood around with obsess over it."
Auste presses her lips together, hard, into a thin white line as she
glances over and up at Tannusen. To him, she offers another murmured
bidding of good luck, too, and a light touch made out towards his hand. A
shaky breath is drawn, and then another. And with that twitching green egg
(and another quick, calming breath), she's regained all composure: there's
her high-held chin, her narrowed-eye glance. There. /Now/ all's right. Do
your worst, dragons.
Kaveshun glances around towards the rest of the candidates as they mumble
good luck to each other. He adds his own, though his voice cracks and is
hoarse. Eventually he coughs and clearly says a mumbled "Good luck" that at
least those nearby can here. His feet were ignored, protected for the
moment, as his attention is caught on the wiggling eggs. "Aw, shells, I
think 'm gonna be sick," he says, putting a hand on his belly as his face
begins to pale.
Beli stills, glancing around at her fellow candidates - candidates for the
time being, anyway, but some of them not for very much longer. She seems
composed, though her hands are flexing, open and closed, open and closed.
Tannusen's nervousness gets shoved aside -- or rather, down, likely -- as
the egg starts twitching about. Now, he's more fascinated than ill!
Amazing! "You too," he murmurs back to Auste, giving her hand a pat but not
taking it. Don't want to be all linked up if they need to dodge a hatchling!
The Pink Shilelagh Egg twitches.
The Pink Shilelagh Egg
Hiding in a soft shadow, nestled cosily in the warms sands and tainted by
red sandstone reflections from the surrounding hatching cavern walls, there
is an egg. One with a sharp rising shaft of darkness, rough brown and
threateningly capped with a knarled knob, ascending in a gentle half-spiral
from bottom to top of this faintly glowing irridescent pink shell. Only
it's citron-peel textured surface reveals the egg's solid nature before the
unwary hand can bruise itself trying to immerse into it's depths to grasp
the embedded walking stick.
Chaton isn't so brilliant. He's shivering even though he's hot from the
sands. His eyes lock on the green egg that's quivering on the sands and he
looks over at Auste and gives a nod at Tannusen. "Good luck." he says
squeakily, and he reaches out for Auste's hand, hoping that she won't be
so... Auste... at least this time.
The Pink Shilelagh Egg takes on a few more twitches, this time toppling a
little on the warm sand. A small crack appears after the last one, jagging
down from the very top and marring its soft shadow. Perhaps its only a few
more tries away.
Eggs! Rocking, rolling, shaking and maybe cracking... They're so colorful
and quite enough to distract Naara from the crowds. Thank Faranth, or
Iesia's warning just may have come to pass. Turning to smile up at Des, she
continues to watch the eggs, every now and then glancing at the Momma.
"T-t-this isn't ah, s-so bad... S-so long as I uh, d-d-don't think about
what's um...behind me."
Kassima calls across the distance to Kaveshun, "Don't you dare! D'you have
any idea what 'twould smell like, all over the hot Sands? Everyone would be
sick then, even the hatchlings, and the Weyr at large would hunt you down
thirsting for revenge." She's fidgeting not much less than the rest, and
her eyes are glued to the rocking eggs. "They'll be all right," she says
more softly. "Surely. They know t'be dodging aught with teeth."
Celane glances towards Beli standing next to her, giving her an uneasy,
nervous smile. And she rocks in place slightly-- not unlike the eggs,
really-- in an attempt to calm down, or evade the heat of the sands. "Look!
That pink one's moving."
IGEN-> N'ren, feeling nostalgic, manages to find his copy of Kheveth's
Impression code, including the description of his egg.
Grass is Greener Egg quite suddenly ceases its shuddering and falls stone
still. A few heartbeats later, the verdant egg gives a mighty shudder,
hairline cracks splintering from apex to sandy bottom like tiny veins and
showing hints of soft celadon where the egg's membrane fights to stay
intact. The myriad clumps of shell stretch and grind together for a moment
and then, with one final heave, the egg bursts apart, giving way to the
restless life it has cradled inside.
Deep Drifting Dreams Blue Hatchling
He meanders with easy grace, no amount of unsteadiness sufficient to hide
the liquid movement granted him at birth. The contours of his bones mimic
water-sculpted rocks, elegant, worn down from bulk into something thin and
essential. Even his color is the deep fluid blue of a dusk sky reflected
from some forgotten river. It takes a very close look at him to spy the
glimpses of dark, dark greens--lost valley grasses turned nearly black by
midnight, only visible where his limbs meet his body and at the very edges
of the wings on which he'll wander.
"Good girl." Desdinova murmers with approval to Naara, giving her hand a
gentle squeeze and a dazzling smile. The pink egg's movement draws her
attention back. "Well, if the ball-throwing taught me anything, Iesia, it's
that these things are going to break out at high speed and try to
decapitate us. I'm not sure that was the intended lesson, though." The
green egg shatters, taking more words away from Desdinova as she gapes at
the blue hatchling.
Meilyn takes a step back as a few of the eggs decide to start rocking.
Saying softly to Hector, she mutters, "Remember, if it looks like it's
going to amputate me, push me out of the way... I'll do likewise." As the
first egg hatches she lets out a startled squeak and reaches for his hand,
hoping he won't pull it away.
Neiravi sneaks a quick look toward her favorite egg, the one with slashes
of purple, but it doesn't seem to be moving much just yet. "No being sick,"
she echoes, "and no fainting. We are brave, and if we can survive dodgeball
with Kassi, we can survive this, and come out with dragons on the other
side." Speaking of which--"Oh. Oh, he's beautiful. Egg-wet and clumsy and
beautiful."
Hector notices an expression on Kaveshun's face that is remarkably close to
how he feels. "Shards, Kaveshun, don't lose your lunch out here. If you
start hurling, we'll all hurl." He reaches out to give the other boy an
encouraging pat on the shoulder, which then turns to a startled grip. "Hey,
there's a baby dragon." Rather obvious statement, but now he has to worry
about dodging if any of them start running this way. He gives Meilyn a
smile and a quick nod. "Of course. I promised, didn't I?" He grasps her
hand reassuringly.
Auste does accept Chaton's hand, unthinkingly, tightly squeezing her
fingers against his. In fact, she seems so very intent on those rocking
eggs (though she does mutter "pink," a bit disgustedly) that she doesn't
even seem to register the motion - until that blue breaks from his shell,
and her grasp on his hand tightens so very much she might leave bruises.
Sucking air in between her teeth, she hisses wordlessly for a long moment
until she manages, "Oh, /look/."
Without warning, the Blue Seaspray Egg splits down the middle. A bewildered
green is born, tail over her nose and wings all askew. With a slow motion,
she rolls over onto her belly. Tail flops into the sand, legs lift, and the
new little green is on her way. It doesn't take long to pair her off to a
young Igen native.
Iesia says, "Behind you?" She twists her head around to look, catches the
oh-so-obvious crowd, and shrugs. "Who cares. They're not watching us,
they're watching them." Eggs. Dragons. But she spares Naara another glance,
focusing her attention, at least, on the eggs. And Hatchling. "Ah." And
that's it.
The Citron Peel Egg twitches.
Citron Peel Egg
This egg is brightly, obnoxiously, horrifically yellow. The apex is mere
sunshine, crowned with a spattering of pure white dust in a perfect ring
around it. The color deepens gradually, running through the more neon
shades down to a rich ruddy goldenrod at the base. It doesn't reflect light
coming into the grounds as much as it bounces it out and away. Baked in the
heat of the desert sands, it could easily give someone staring long a
headache.
Kaveshun sways a bit as the first egg hatches, but he still catches
Kassima's words and he nods weakly. "R-right ma'am," he calls back to her,
paling only from fear of being hunted down. Especially by said greenrider.
Somehow that makes him take deep breaths. "I ain't, I ain't," he reassures
Hector, though he doesn't look good as the second goes. "Still... Shells,
it's really happenin'."
Chaton watches the pink egg, now, and then his eyes dart back to the new
hatchling. The blue hatchling. Okay. What did Auste say at the firelizard
hatching? Think loving thoughts. Love and comfort and exceptance. He nods,
his stance changing so that his feet are set and his body is steady and
ready to move. "Ow!" he exclaimes, his hand squeezed. He swallows and
watches the now quivering yellow egg, and the dragonet. "Here goes." Love.
Comfort.
Beaming at the praise from her friend, Naara relaxes a little, until she
spies that blue explosion. "Oh /Faranth/..." She's utterly breathless.
"T-t-that /blue/... He's /gorgeous/..." Her grip on Desdinova becomes a
little less panicked, perhaps a little less strangling and she takes an
involuntary step forward to watch him closer.
Tannusen, like the rest, watches the hatchlings with -- wary! --
fascination. They're like huge firelizards, even the shape of them just
after hatching!
IGEN-> R'din says, "Blues rock! *nod*"
Citron Peel Egg wobbles unsteadily on its nadir, those first delicate
shivers giving way to more vigorous and violent motions. Whoever's inside
has no interest in *staying* there. No cracks yet, but it sways forward and
back like an erratic (and blinding) metronome.
Beli is very silent, mute nods here and there as she catches drifts of
conversation, but mostly she's just watching - and as that blue tumbles
forth, and then the little green, she somehow becomes even quieter, every
motion stilling for a few seconds, and then she breathes again, and with
that breath tells Kaveshun, "Counting backwards by sixes reduces nausea."
Arms folding, the Weyrleader fixes Josilina with a quick wink before his
gaze falls back onto the emerging blue. "Would rather spend it in the
comfort of my wine collections," B'yan drawls lazily, his gaze scanning the
groups of candidates with mild interest. "And what are you women obssessed
with, if we men only care about maulings?" Another egg gets his attention,
causing him to add "It started with a blue. Doesn't that mean something?
Bad luck, even?" he mutters over towards the Weyrwoman.
The Pink Shilelagh Egg goes through its struggling dance. It twitches to
the left. It twitches to the right. It tips itself forward just a bit,
almost as if it were bowing, before the last forceful twitch cracks the egg
in half. Tiny shards scattering over sand, a wing-toppled blue is revealed.
Celane's eyes widen as, suddenly, there are hatchlings on the sands. The
blue! That green! Her mouth is similarly a small 'oh' as she watches the
hatching unfold around her with an expression of wonder.
"Whoa, there." Desdinova says to Naara, tightening her grip slightly on her
hand as she moves forward. "We're supposed to stay back, remember?" And if
you move away, who's gonna protect me?" She glances back at the blue again,
then over past Iesia to Celane, "Isn't he gorgeous?"
Deep Drifting Dreams Blue Hatchling stands amidst the remains of his egg,
surveying the new world around him with eagerly swirling eyes. He steps
forward slowly, peering at the other eggs and then over to the white robbed
figures ahead of him with his head lifted high and tail swaying gently.
While he may be moseying along, taking his dear, sweet time to investigate
things, his posture shows that he is in no way timid -- just curious.
Distinguished Cobalt Blue Hatchling
Slender and powerful, this young blue radiates energy -- it emanates from
his very being. Vivid, deep blue, he could have been just lifted from the
dye vat, gleaming a solid cobalt color from tip to tail. Here and there the
dye seems to have layered upon itself, darker around his talons, his
wingsails perhaps also twice-dipped. They are darker at their center, the
color bleeding outward to its lighter edges, and his tail snakes around,
its movements precise and deliberate, like the rest of him.
Neiravi gently squeezes Naara's hand again quickly agreeing with Desdinova.
"Remember, don't go to him unless he looks like he's coming to you. You
really don't want to get in his way, no matter how lovely he is. Oh, there
goes a green--" Just that quickly she Impresses, and it takes Ravi quite by
surprise. "Maybe this won't be as long and drawn-out as I thought it
might--and another blue!" Her head turns back and forth, trying to keep an
eye on dragons and rocking eggs alike.
Iesia smirks just a little for Naara's forward movement. "Well. At least
you're not scared of *them*." Hatchlings, of course. Iesia's scrutiny of
the new little dragons is contemplative and neutral, though there just
might be a little grin at the blues. "Protect you? I thought we discussed
this already..." says Iesia to Desdinova.
Hector gives a quick nod to Kaveshun, though he doesn't take his eyes from
the baby dragons. Of course, none of them look like they're going to charge
towards any of the candidate and trample them, which is somewhat
comforting. He reminds himself that he can't let his guard down, though,
because that's when they git ya! "They're, um, bluer than I thought they'd
be," he remarks, tilting his head slightly.
Kaveshun swings his eyes about, finally away from the hatching itself,
towards Beli as he catches the word 'nausea'. "Counting? Counting...
numbers. I can't think now fer that," he complains. "All I see are those
sharp teeth flyin' at me from all directions. Little flyin' teeth ready ta
tear me up." Woops. There goes the hand back to his stomach and there's
some numbers mumbled under his breath.
Meilyn's hand is clenching and unclenching at each wonderous, and scary
sight that meets her eyes. It probably isn't the most comfortable thing for
Hector, but she doesn't seem to notice, captivated. Murmuring softly she
says, "Pinch me, I must be dreaming..."
Iesia's comment jerks Naara back moreso than Desdinova's restraining grip
and light jesting. "T-them?" she asks incredulously. "W-w-what's to fear
from uh, them?" Obviously she wasn't listening to any talk of these
so-called maulings. "The p-p-p-p-people are the err, the scary ones..."
Shifting from foot to foot, she watches as another blue makes his
appearance. "S-s-so /many/..."
Auste's death grip lightens slightly at Chaton's cry, although she doesn't
spare him a sideways glance, not to tear her eyes away from those blues,
the eggs... She can forgive the pink one, and the yellow one their heinous
shade for the occupants. Maybe. The redhead swivels her head back and forth
with intent scrutiny - which will break next? - until Hector's words catch
her attention and she squeaks out a low, shuddering laugh. "Bluer." But
nothing else.
Josilina snorts, "You would." She shifts her weight from foot to foot,
tracking hatchlings now instead of candidates. "One blue, one green - no,
two blues," she corrects herself. "Not bad luck," she slants him a wry
glance, "bronzes are. Little known fact, obscured in popular lore by
bronzeriders and their egos." For obsession? "We're obsessed with... mmm,
hats," she decides. Then, idily, "I so hate seeing all the pretty eggs
destroyed."
Margaritaville Egg is wasting away, flakes of shell pattering down onto the
Sands like salt. A headknob pokes through, then a wingspar on the opposite
side, then a COLOR is revealed, dusted in shards. It clambers out, leaving
a trail of shell fragments and goo, and trundles in the exact opposite
direction from a sorely disappointed Carthan, finding its mate without much
fuss in a giggly girl from Igen Hold. "Come on, Kheriath, the food's right
over there!"
Deep Drifting Dreams Blue Hatchling strolls casually through the sandy maze
of mounded eggs and scattered shells like a traveler on a grand journey --
life is wonderful and there are so many sights to see! Stopping for a
moment to nudge a piece of sticky shell off his back, the blue fans his
wings enthusiastically and then saunters contentedly toward the strange
figures in white. The blue wanders close, but not too close to the
Candidates, studying them keenly and wearing what might be a draconic look
of awe.
Kassima gives A'deth's hand a squeeze and leaves him reluctantly to jog to
the first Impressed pair: "She's lovely," she says, her admiration
heartfelt. "C'mon--we'll get her fed a'fore she gets any notions about the
rest of the Candidates."
IGEN-> J'on groans at that emit.
Margaritaville Egg is wasting away, flakes of shell pattering down onto the
Sands like salt. A headknob pokes through, then a wingspar on the opposite
side, then a green is revealed, dusted in shards. It clambers out, leaving
a trail of shell fragments and goo, and trundles in the exact opposite
direction from a sorely disappointed Carthan, finding its mate without much
fuss in a giggly girl from Igen Hold. "Come on, Kheriath, the food's right
over there!" (corrected)
"Two blues already," Tannusen comments to no one in particular, content to
just geek out loud. Hey, it's keeping /him/ from thinking about how
nauseous he is with nerves! His head tilts a little to one side, "And that
they're both pretty dark, aren't they? I wonder if all of the blues will be
like that."
IGEN-> J'on says, "I just *knew* someone was going to go there."
You stride into the narrow tunnel leading to the Weyrling Barracks.
IGEN-> Neiravi figured they pretty much *had* to. ;-)
From the sands, The Bubbling Orange Egg twitches.
Bubbling Orange Egg
This egg is a vibrant orange, a solid shade covering its shell from top to
floor. A pebbled surface with what appears to be cream colored bubbles all
drifting in a lazy spiral towards the apex give the egg an appearance of
slowly spinning up towards the sky. The egg's upward curving sides holding
an almost cylindrical shape, causing the textured shell to create an almost
dizzying spiral of flecks all meeting at the peak.
IGEN-> Tair says, "Where?"
IGEN-> N'ren says, "Which one? I'm spammed."
From the sands, Bubbling Orange Egg shivers slightly in the sand,
dislodging a few granules which slide down its shell to mingle with their
fellows, lost into obscurity. In stillness, it waits then all at once
spins, breaking free of its warm nesting place to rest on its end and there
rock once before conserving its energy for the next effort.
From the sands, Beli sneaks a peek back at the Stands, but if she's looking
for someone in particular, it's hard to tell whether she's found them.
"They won't tear you up," Beli tells Kaveshun. She seems confident about
it, but then, she's not exactly letting her attention waver, either.
IGEN-> Jelana says, "Margaritaville egg wasting away."
From the sands, Distinguished Cobalt Blue Hatchling seems to be in his
element colors everywhere and a waiting performance. He pulls his wings
from over himself and shakes the remnants of the egg from them, seeming
more interested in cleaning himself up than looking over at the groups of
candidates standing nearby. His tail swings left to right afterwards, then
he rears his head up and gives a little creel hes ready and swings his head
towards the glaringly white group of robes.
IGEN-> Tair says, "Ah."
From the sands, Iesia says, simply, "Claws. Teeth. Wobbly steps and an
appetite." She's not concerned, however, even if she's keeping a sharp
watch on that wandering blue. "Just keep your hands to yourself, hm? I
can't work miracles." A glance is given to Des.
IGEN-> N'ren says, "Oh. Yeah. Just saw that."
IGEN-> Lanisa heh :)
From the sands, Chaton ohs, at the Colbalt blue, all the pretty blues, and
that green. Pretty dragons. He watches with facination, his eyes bright and
dancing. "They're so beautiful. OOh! Look at that orange one!" he points to
the Bubbling Orange Egg. He seems to be just talking to nobody, or Auste,
nobody can be sure. "Wow." He nods, giggling nervously. "This is awesome.
So many blues."
From the sands, Hector doesn't actually notice Meilyn clenching and
unclenching his hand. He doesn't even notice the heat underneath his
sandals, though he might have heat blisters tomorrow. "If this is a dream,
you'll have to wake me up too," he says to Meilyn. "Though I think they're
gooey-er than I thought they'd be too."
From the sands, "Nothing is scarey right now." Desdinova assures the girls
beside her. "I thought it would be, but now we are out here and it's not.
It's just... Happening." She grins brightly, "It's fascinating the
different ways the eggs crack." She grins back to Iesia. "Hands to
ourselves? Should I let go of yours?"
From the sands, Citron Peel Egg jerks ever more fitfully until--there! One
tiny chip flakes away from the whole. One little shard falls, with a
newborn claw poking through the gap it leaves. It may not seem like much
progress but those fractures weaken the shell just enough... it cracks into
ragged halves and leaves something glistening golden in its wake.
From the sands, Deep Drifting Dreams Blue Hatchling has noticed that other
hatchlings are appearing and seems to finally realize a growing sense
urgency. He takes his inspection a little closer, gamboling up to a young
boy before seeming to lose interest and spin to move down the ranks.
Finally, one of the white figures catches his eye. The young blue pauses,
eyes locking on a willowy woman with lovely tan skin. The sight of her
inspires him to tip his head back and give a sing-song croon of joy.
Shocked and pleased at the sound of his voice, he heads straight for her,
crooning all the way until he can butt his muzzle into her stomach and look
up into her ice blue eyes with loving admiration -- a wanderer no more.
IGEN-> R'din is mighty tempted to steal those two blues. ;)
From the sands,
Crystalline Canary Clarity Gold Hatchling
A dragon can't refract light as a gemstone can. She can only reflect it;
there is something nevertheless about the pale and delicate gold hide on
this newborn queen that appears to sparkle. Tiny places along her body are
paler than the rest--from most angles she's the color of morning sun caught
in ice, but where she is lightest she blazes like Rukbat over the noontime
desert. Such brilliance may distract the eye from just how tiny she is for
a gold, smaller now than some of her bronze brothers and delicately built.
Her very bones are narrow. The intelligence and confidence in her manner,
however, may serve to remind those who see her that a diamond doesn't need
to be large to be strong.
IGEN-> M'tri is making grabby hands at the screen.
From the sands, Deep Drifting Dreams Blue Hatchling stops in front of a
girl with wavy brown hair and ice-blue eyes.
From the sands, The Deep Drifting Dreams Blue Hatchling gazes into Celane's
eyes.
From the sands, Neiravi is almost laughing, a waver of not-quite-hysteria
and delight underlying her voice. "Look how that blue is *looking* at
everyone. He's as glad to see us as we are him. And take *that*, Carthan, I
*told* you that egg wouldn't pick you no matter how close you stayed to it.
The blue is--oh, the gold--and the blue--oh Celane!" Ravi's not often
rendered speechless, but she'll free her hands briefly to clap.
From the sands, Tannusen beams as Celane Impresses, having watched the
hatchling's progression toward the candidates quite closely. He doesn't
offer his congratulations over the distance between them, quite content to
do so properly later.
From the sands, Auste nudges away a tendril of hair from her eyes with the
back of her hand, and, vision clear, suddenly presses her fingers against
her mouth to hold back that unexpected burbling, gasp laught that rises
from her. "Celane!" It's half delight, half cheer. Chaton's hand gets
another abusive squeeze, and the girl can't seem to decide /where/ to look:
the gold? Her Impressed peer? The other blue?
From the sands, "Oh, Ce!" Desdinova is overjoyed for her friend, casting a
bright smile at her and her new blue friend. "Hurray! I knew you would
Impress, I did!" She can't clap, her hands being held onto, but she clearly
wants to. She's almost missed the gold's arrival in the distraction, but it
doesn't last long. "Oh, my." She says, breathlessly.
From the sands, Kaveshun shakes his head, not convinced by Beli's words.
"Course they will. Just like the balls." He had nightmares after that
lesson. He shudders at the sharp teeth painted on those balls. "Aw,
congrats ta ya, Celane," he calls out to her, noticing the blue's
impression. At least he was being nice. The gold gets a look. A long look,
and he tries to muffle a groan.
From the sands, There! That dreamy perfection of blue stops in front of
Celane and Naara can't help but laugh with the sheer joy of watching one
half meet the other. "Oh...oh Nova, /l-l-look/!" she gasps out gleefully.
She begins to bounce on the balls of her feet, the energy and life of the
day finally affecting her in a positive manner. So much to see, so much
to--oh! "Oh sh-sh-sh-/shells/..." The small, sparkling queen catches her
attention and she can do no more than stare, caught in the way the light
plays over pale hide. "Nova..." she echoes her friend breathlessly.
From the sands, Meilyn makes to pinch Hector if he doesn't pull his arm
away, the hatching making her almost giddy with excitement and
apprehension. "Yes. Much gooier." She states in agreement, eyes not taken
off the hatchlings wandering about, a clench of her hand at each hatching
and each impression. "They're all so beautiful though, even with all the
goo, maybe the comment about them trampling was just gossip?"
From the sands, "Why thank you," B'yan quips back to Josilina - like she
had just complimented him. Or either way, he's interpreting her response
like that. Glancing back towards the candidates, "I heard bronzes give
-very- good luck," he informs her with such arrogant certainty. "No
surprise, really....hats?" He sends her a look, incredulous, before shaking
his head. "I'll buy you one of those wide ones that have a mauled
tunnelsna-" Perhaps it's best he doesn't finish that sentence, for he
catches the blue Impressing Celane and seems to try to pull Josilina's
attention to it.
From the sands, "A Gold!" Chaton says brightly, as the gold hatchling peeks
out of the egg and tumbles out. "Beautiful!" he says, wrinkling his nose.
His eyes are drawn to the creening sound and he grins. "Congradulations
Celane!" he says brightly, then his eyes are drawn back to the hatchlings,
ignoring the grip on his hand. "Brilliant." he breathes.
From the sands, Celane has been taking all of this in, the eggs, the
hatchlings... but then there's one at her feet, and he's hers, he's...
"Autryth! Oh, Autryth, love! And you are hungry..."
From the sands, Iesia sticks her tongue out. Just a little. Just enough
that Desdinova can see. "No. I meant keep them away from the Hatchlings..."
but before she can say much more, that blue takes her attention. And then
Celane. Her mouth twitches into a small smile, but she says nothing. "Oh."
That would be for the gold, as Iesia's eyebrows furrow and she glances
quizzically around the Sands. "Alright." Hm.
From the sands, Tantalizing Blush Egg spills a gawky green hatchling out
onto the Sands, so dark that with the egg dampness still on her hide it's
hard to be sure of her color until she spreads her wings wide to dry them.
She's barely there anyway before she's charging straight for *her*
Candidate. And missing, because Dali dodges! The green wheels around and
creels, plaintive, and the tiny dark-haired girl falls to her knees. "I'm
not afraid of you at all, Salvadath."
From the sands, Crystalline Canary Clarity Gold Hatchling is still, there
among the over-bright remains, catching her breath from all that
effort--peering towards the Candidates almost as if she were nearsighted,
but it's only the world's newness giving her pause. She shakes off goo with
an impatient wriggle. There, she's dry now. It's time to go see what she
can see, and she takes her first step with confidence.
From the sands, Beli is watching, watching, and then smiling - really
smiling, as if for a moment she's no longer nervous - as she sees the blue
choose Celane. And there's a gold there, too, a tiny one, and Beli glances
between that new arrival and her dam, then back, and back to Lhiannonth
once more. Then back to Celane, and she tries out the name, "Autryth," and
then: "Salvadath."
From the sands, Hector's gaze is drawn over to the candidate who just
Impressed, then to the gold. Of course, the gold wouldn't be interested in
him, but it could still run around and trample people. He glances over at
Meilyn as she comments. "Nah, I think these are just the calm ones. We'll
probably see some crazy-excited ones, and then we'll all start running
It'll be just like the game," he says with a nod of agreement towards
Kaveshun.
From the sands, Tannusen elbows Kaveshun -- lightly! -- at the noise he
makes, and can't help but tease; "Afraid the gold will pick you and make
you the first male goldrider?" he asks innocently, grinning a tense,
distracted grin.
From the sands, Distinguished Cobalt Blue Hatchling takes his first step
from the shards and nearly hops himself forward. Finding that nothing
traumatic happened from that, his little hop-steps get bolder. He moves
towards the groups cautiously, starting at the end and stepping lightly
passed each one as if in search. Which to choose, which to choose?
Celane strides in from the Sands.
From the sands, A'deth, having moved to lead Celane into the Weyrling
Barracks, returns to look on: there are many yet left!
From the sands, Bubbling Orange Egg could have been forgotten there, it was
still again so long. Or perhaps those slight quivers it made were just less
noticeable before and had been building for some time. Momentum builds and
it begins to spin again, a dizzying spectacle once it picks up some speed
before, with an audible thud and cracking, it falls on its side to split
before crumbling into shards.
From the sands, Neiravi is reduced to a breathless whisper of "So
beautiful, she's so beautiful, she's *so* beautiful," as she stares at the
diamond-bright queen's first cautious steps. She pulls her eyes away with
an effort to check the position of the second blue, and the tumble of
Dali's green. "Just *look* at them." She grins at Des and Naara, her eyes
bright with hope and wonder. "Here he comes, I think..."
From the sands,
Cunning Covetous Patina Green
A light green, this dragon's predominate hue could be mistaken for that of
sea foam, but any Smith would say she better matches the green patina of
certain weathered metals. Even the tints of orange shading to brushes of
red which highlight her bone structure and the very tips of her wingspars,
before they are echoed in a more transparent guise through splotches of
color spreading across the delicate sails, are like glints of copper
showing through in rare glimpses past the coating of her hide. There is
beauty here, a certain understated quality to the slenderness of her basic
lines, the promise of agility over muscle in a way that doesn't limit
strength so much as offer an alternative form. Her neck ridges are less
pronounced than most, more like a sketch of what they could be, with her
tail whip thin compared to many. Still, it's something in the set of her
eyes which suggests a deeper cunning and intelligence behind a bright facade.
From the sands, Kaveshun nods, half-distracted, at Hector's words.
"'xactly. That's how it's gonna be. And 'stead of bruises we'll be missin'
arms an' legs cause those ain't painted teeth." He jumps, startled, as
Tannusen elbows him and his wide eyes swing about. He groans again and
lifts a hand to his face. "Shells. Don' even kid 'bout that. I ain't
getting 'nywhere near that dragon." And his eyes swing back around, making
sure to keep an eye on the lady gold, hopefully to run out of her way.
From the sands, The Scattered Spiking Swords Egg twitches.
Scattered Spiking Swords Egg
Allow grass to grow tall in a field, then scythe it down. Toss the blades
in front of you to fall as they will. You'd get a pattern something like
this, an array of long, slender and pointed shapes aimed in every
imaginable direction, except that where grass grows in only one color these
thin spikes showcase every color in the spectrum. Josilina needn't be
afraid, there's not a one so dull a color as grey--tawdry pink, ruby red;
sunset orange watered down; fabulous greens and blues and a purple like the
reflection of a dawn sky, each hue has a tiny glittering blade to represent
it. There must be hundreds dancing across the shell--thousands! Millions!
And yet despite that, no two seem quite the same.
From the sands, Auste leeeeaans out around Tannusen at his comment,
blinking a bit dazedly over at Kaveshun, inspecting him before pronouncing:
"I hope not. He'd throw up all over her and then what kind of dignity would
she have?" None, clearly. And Dali's Impressed - another green spilled to
the sands - and the girl is back to her straight sentry... though still
holding tight.
From the sands, Desdinova squeezes the hands she holds, hard, her gaze
flickering between the blue and the gold, as well as the other impressions
to people she doesn't know so well. Neiravi's words draw a squeak from her.
"He is! They are so beautiful, much moreso than the firelizards were when
they hatched. It's simply breathtaking! Come what may, I'll never forget
this, certainly."
From the sands, Scattered Spiking Swords Egg is still, so still, and then
suddenly twitches, and shudders, and then spins on its axis as its
inhabitant struggles to break free. Another spin, and a large, jagged crack
appears-- each violent roll of the egg seems to make the blades upon its
surface clash before they finally begin to break apart!
From the sands, Iesia can only smirk at that, and cast another brief look
at Desdinova. "Not so sorry you said yes, now?" she asks, unable to resist
the slight tease. "I, however, am of the opposite opinion. I believe I will
find this entire experience rather hard to remember. It's..." Chaotic? "Fast."
From the sands, Tannusen laughs! His eyes stay on various hatchlings, and
now there's enough of them that it's difficult. But he has to add his
piece; "Not much at all; think, the very first male goldrider goes down in
history as having vomited all over his poor just-wanted-to-be-revolutionary
gold. The shame! I'd become a harper yet just to sing about that one."
From the sands, Meilyn's eye twitches at Hector's words, clearly not those
she wanted to hear. "Pessimism will be the death of us I think... Let's
just pretend they are all happy, fluffy and just remain vigilant. For my
sanity more than anything!" If a hatchling comes her way, she takes a
hesitant step back, unconciously moving a bit behind Hector as if they
would go for him over her.
From the sands, So many colors. Each crack and roll of shell brings more
life into the world and Naara can't move fast enough to take it all in. By
the time this day is up she may very well have whiplash. Blue to gold to
green to blue to green to gold to green. "You'll remember," she says
quietly to Iesia. "M-m-maybe not /all/ of uhm, it, but you'll r-remember..."
From the sands, Distinguished Cobalt Blue Hatchling runs the gamut peering
up at one person, completely passing another, and even stopping for a
moment at one long brown-haired one. Whereas his frantic search was
apparent before, the little blue seems slower and calculating now. He seems
to be taking this seriously now, and its only when he stops at one
easygoing-looking boy that he cries out as if announcing that his search
was complete. Found.
From the sands, Crystalline Canary Clarity Gold Hatchling may hear Hector,
or it might be coincidence, but her second step and third take her... right
in Kaveshun's direction. Her line to him is in fact remarkably direct. The
boy can rest easy, however, because she veers when still some feet away
towards a different knot of white. What about them? She gets right up in
the face of one, trying to meet him eye-to-eye and at her size miserably
failing. This one's a yutz. Where is her own?
From the sands, Distinguished Cobalt Blue Hatchling stops in front of a
green-eyed boy with jagged fingernails.
From the sands, The Distinguished Cobalt Blue Hatchling gazes into Chaton's
eyes.
From the sands, Beli eyes that spinning egg, watching it a little more
carefully than she had for some of the others - here, her gaze is
practically academic, studying it as it moves. She can't help but smile as
the little gold makes a beeline for Kaveshun, and then - then she's
distracted, as that blue claims Chaton.
There are several young dragons gathered in here already, with their
lifemates kneeling befor them in robes blotched with ghastly splotches;
white's an unfortunate choice, when you have to deal with a dragonet's
first meal. Kassima oversees it all with a smile that just won't fade.
"Celane! Oh, felicitations, you too! He'll be hungry. Over here, we've got
bowls all ready for him."
From the sands, Cunning Covetous Patina Green is still once more, this time
covered in shards rather than shell, but she gives an experimental shiver
into all this newfound space, shaking off some shell by accident, and then
more aggressively removing it in earnest. Something catches her eye, and
ooh...SHINY. Egg and goo forgotten, she starts to take her first awkward
steps, in her sister's wake.
From the sands, Chaton was just about to dodge the hatchling comming at
him, but something makes him hesitate. Something that crystalizes in his
brillant, now liquid turning eyes. His head swirls as he listens to the
chatter in his head. "Mobeth, right... I know you. Yeah... out of here."
he's more dazed than he expected, a big grin on his face and his freckles
standing out in his pale skin, but his colour is slowly comming back.
From the sands, Iesia just shrugs at Naara. Well, at her words, even if the
other candidate cannot see. "We will see, won't we?" she murmurs. "Ask me
again, when the Feast is over and I've got a bottle of wine in my hand."
Ahh, wishful thinking. And then clear surprise and.. is that /joy/?
"Chaton!" It's not terribly loud, but full of emotion.
From the sands, Auste snatches back her hand as though scalded; she, too,
allows a cry to escape her lips and she shifts away, nearer to Tannusen.
And her younger friend gets an accusatory, bitter stare, plain and simple,
before it's hidden under something more celebrated - with a stuttering
smile, the redhead chokes out, "Oh, Chaton - good - well done."
From the sands, Hector isn't quite so sure what he thinks about being
Meilyn's human shield now that the moment has arrived and there are several
of those baby dragons stumbling over the Sands, eyeing anything clad in
white. "Well, okay. Happy, fluffy baby dragons. It'll be fine, fine. If one
gets close, you can just blow on it and it will bounce away." Fine, fine,
he repeats that in his head as a kind of mantra, unsure what to make of the
fact that the day they've all talked about is finally here and all this is
actually happening.
From the sands, Neiravi says firmly to her cluster of friends, "I will
remember this when I am old and grey, and I will write this all down after
it's done, even if I can't do it properly like a Harper--" Pause for
cheering, and to clap for Chaton (Ch'ton?) and his dignified blue Mobeth.
The gold and her perusal of Kaveshun draw a real laugh out of Ravi. "Well,
if I'm to be the first female bronzerider, I suppose Kav should be the
first male queenrider. Does that green have *red* on her?" Oh, for an extra
set of eyes.
From the sands, A'deth steps toward Ch'ton and Mobeth. "This way," he says
quietly, and moves to lead them off the sands. "Come along, now."
From the sands, Kaveshun shakes his head furiously as his feet start up on
the hatching sands dance. "I ain't got anything interesting for her. Just--
Faranth!" he shrieks, shooting himself behind Tannusen and the others with
wide eyes. "Not me, ya silly gold! I ain't no silly gal!" He shakes his
fist towards the young queen, sighing in relief when she heads away. He
tries to compose himself, slipping back out, but now he's well on his
guard. Looking left and right at all the hatchlings. Just in case. And that
gold, of course...
From the sands, One moment there is an egg. The next, there is not! Just
that quickly, Honey's Magic Glow Egg seems to disolve. Bits of shell litter
the sand around the hatched brown. A few minutes are taken to drink in the
surroundings before he confidently trot off to find his new rider. Baby
limbs aren't quite as steady as adult ones, however, and with a startled
squeak, the brown topples into the sand, landing nose-first in front of a
boy from Bitra. "Ubevanth? Yes!" Impression is made, and the new rider
kneels to help his brown back onto his feet.
From the sands, Chaton helps Mobeth to a better spot.
Chaton strides in from the Sands.
From the sands, The Frozen Sandstorm Egg twitches.
Frozen Sandstorm Egg
So unremarkable is the altering of curvature, one would have to look hard
to determine the difference between baseline and crest resulting in this
egg having a cylindrical appearance. Amber spills across the surface,
broken up by blocks of translucent white settled carelessly one upon the
other and reaching upward to where a slash of pineapple yellow wedges down
over the top. The overall illusion of cooling invitation is completed with
speckles of beaded perspiration collected down the sides.
From the sands, Tannusen is distracted from doing more than grinning
Chaton's way by the clashing blades of the fabulous rainbow egg finally
catching his eye in all the chaos. But even that is brief distraction from
distraction as various hatchlings approach the candidates in general and--
"Did you just /hide/ behind me?" Oh dear!
From the sands, "Oh, Chaton! Those blues did choose well, didn't they?"
Desdinova grins over as another of her friends Impress, and is all but
bouncing on the spot. "This is wonderful. I wish there was a better way to
know who it would be, cause the waiting is killing me, but there's
something to be said for the excitement cause by unpredictability." She
grins over at Iesia, "We'll get Lotra to draw us pictures, so we always
remember, though I doubt she can do the colors. Their so vivid!"
From the sands, Crystalline Canary Clarity Gold Hatchling turns away from
the unsatisfactory young men to find--she's being followed! That's her
sister and certainly *not* her own, but she pauses nonetheless to stand her
ground and jut her chin out. One can almost read the thoughts in her mind
even though she has yet to say her first words to anyone: hey, you. *You*.
Green! What's this about?
From the sands, Scattered Spiking Swords Egg stills again, as if gathering
its strength. And then-- /Crack!/, and then /crack!/ again! And the shell
splits, scattering large shards and tumbling a blackish dragonet to the
sands... no, not quite black, but sombre midnight blue.
From the sands,
Sleekly Sombre Soldier Blue
So intensely blue that he's almost black, this dragon's sombre hide barely
reflects the muted light. But where it does, it gleams like rich cobalt
glass: ephemeral azurite shimmers over his narrow muzzle, over rounded
neckridges, over the sleek lineaments of his strong, slender limbs and his
deep-chested body. Lingering over his well-proportioned wings are barely
lighter glimmers of ultramarine; in the sun, however, the wingsails will
likely glow like panes of rare stained glass, a living depiction of a
twilight sky. And even now, he moves with what promises to be an extreme
precision of movement, almost martial; even now, his form promises graceful
agility. But when he takes a step, a small crack in the darkness is
revealed: a silvery splash upon the palm of his left paw.
From the sands, Josilina grin spreads wider at each Impression, each egg
cracking - and at the Weyrleader's words. "Have you? Have you found that
so?" Almost defensively, "I /like/ hats. Will you look at that gold?" She
flashes Lhiannonth an approving look and the gold rumbles, maternal and
proud, and nudges at Jaireth, gently. "And the green! Shells. Lovely.
Anyway, hats are nice. I'll make /you/ one." It's almost a threat.
IGEN-> R'din says, "Three blues! They're representin', yo!"
From the sands, Frozen Sandstorm Egg shifts slightly on the sands,
seemingly due to the fact that the whole egg seems to be faintly vibrating.
Small cascades of sand flow down the sides of the mound as the egg
continually shifts and larches minutely.
From the sands, Iesia snorts. "Sylotra?" she asks. "Draw this chaotic scene
for us? I am sure she is already trying." But Iesia does not attempt a look
at the galleries, oh no. Her eyes remain on the chaos before her, following
the movement of Hatchlings with critical, masked neutrality. Studying.
Kassima waves Chaton and his Mobeth over too; she's kneeling among the new
Impressees, distributing bowls of meat and watching carefully to be sure
everyone *chews*. "So many fine young blues. Hungry, isn't he? Lyss says
they're Mobeth and Autryth?"
From the sands, "Much better." Meilyn agrees with the mantra. With that she
turns her gaze on the impressed pairs heading off the sands, a smile at the
rapture on their face and a tender look at the sightest feelings of their
bond in the air. She gives a start, turning her eyes back to the sands, not
willing to be mauled while distracted.
From the sands, "Ch-ch-ch-Chaton!" Naara cries out excitedly as her friend
Impresses. It's probably the loudest she's been since that /scream/ in the
creche yesterday. "S-s-s-so many pretties, Nova!" she fairly gushes,
tripping even moreso on her words than usual as they rush to all get out at
once. Excitement is bad for communication, it seems.
From the sands, Kaveshun turns a sheepish grin towards Tannusen. "Maybe I
did? Yer the one that brought that gold over. I bet." He snorts and turns
to glance in her direction, which in fact also makes him look towards the
green that was following. He shifts uneasily on his feet, back and forth,
before crossing his arms. "There's bound ta be blood on the sands after
this is done. And I ain't stayin' ta watch that. I'll run." Not before
sacrificing one of the other candidates, apparently, as a human shield.
From the sands, Auste's on her own, now, with no one's hand to hold but her
own, and she laces her fingers together to cradle across her front even as
she wets her lips, swallows almost visibly hard. Proper, now, she's
standing stiff and her chin's held high and her eyes fixed firmly on some
yet-unmoving egg as though to prove, /really/, she doesn't need anyone to
hold her hand!
From the sands, The arrival and movement of the gold hatchling has B'yan's
attention, with two fingers snaking out to poke at Josilina's arm. "Jaireth
must be beside himself," he drawls with a nod towards the gold, seeming to
have a hard time hiding his own pleased expression. Even Jaireth, who's
been intent on watching both Lhiannonth and the cracking eggs with a
twitching tail, seemed to look taller than he was. "I'll cook," is his own
threat, given low with a raised brow towards the Weyrwoman. "I'll cook and
say one of the new weyrlings made it for you. If I catch one of your hats
in my weyr."
"Oh yes!" Celane nearly coos in response to Kassima, as she begins
satiating Autryth's hunger. Finally breaking her eyes away from her own
lifemate to take in Chaton's Mobeth, she grins. "Congratulations!
Blueriders together!"
From the sands, Hector watches as Chaton heads off the sands with his new
lifemate. Oddly enough, it makes him think of the younger boy in a
different way. Or maybe it isn't so odd. He gives Meilyn a faint smile.
"Seems like a lot of blue ones, huh?" None of them seem to be looking in
his direction, though. Not that he really expected any of them to, but it
would be interesting to see one up close. Even if they are covered in egg goo.
From the sands, Tannusen laughs again, distractedly, watching that new blue
with an appreciation for the irony of such a dark dragonet tumbling out of
such a colorful egg. And sired by the bronze who'd come out of a black
shell, no less! "It's alright Kav," he purrs teasingly. "I'll protect you.
Or something along those lines." Hey, shoving him out of the way of a
charging dragonet would count, wouldn't it?
Ch'ton sets Mobeth to rights gently
From the sands, Neiravi laughs. "I hope Sylotra's watching, I hope she can
see all these wonderful colors. Her portraits of the eggs were wonderful;
just think what she could do with these dragonets. Oh, look at that blue,
look at his *wings*, like fine glass!" Her feet are slowly, steadily
scorching, and she hasn't even noticed. "Has that green...Auste?" No one
should be left alone and nervous on these Sands. "You want to come over and
stand with us?" Hand-holding optional.
Ch'ton steps over to the beckoning Kassima. "Yeah." he says, still
blindsided by his Impression, his voice meleodic and full of unexpressible
joy. He joins the other candidates. He wrinkles his nose at the bloody meat
and takes it. Dragon or not, blood or raw meat is still icky. "Yeah.
Blueriders together!" he grins and starts to feed Mobeth, turning his head
from the meat.
From the sands, Sleekly Sombre Soldier Blue shakes out his wings, carefully
rights himself, and coolly surveys the lot of remaining candidates
semicircled before him. Whom shall he choose? Slowly, he begins to prowl
forward, his sharp muzzle turning this way and that as he intently takes
their measure.
From the sands, Cunning Covetous Patina Green stops in her tracks as she
falls under her sister's regard, and of course, just was here, shaking off
her goo. She stretches a leg out, rubs it with her muzzle, there, see.
Nothing special going on here. She'll watch from a more cautious regard,
and wait until it's safe to adventure again.
From the sands, The Fuzzy Navel Egg twitches.
Fuzzy Navel Egg
The color of a warm Istan sunset, this egg is a nice, warm shade of yellow,
with a slight tint of orange to it. The entire upper two-thirds of the
shell seems to be this color, almost a warm enough sight to make you feel
the glow. Then again, perhaps its simply the heat from the sands you feel.
The lower third of the shell is a more orange-brown shade with lines of
green tracing almost a diamond pattern over the lower third of the shell.
The shell has a series of protrusions that look almost like thorns sticking
from the lower third. At least, that's what it looks like. Closer
inspection reveals this instead to be darker green lines against the
orange-brown of the shell, casting a shadow effect that makes it appear
that spines or thorns are protruding from the actually smooth shell.
Standing upon tip-toe, it is noticed that the top of the egg isn't the warm
yellow, but more of the same green spike effect from the lower third of the
egg, but in broader strokes, like the fronds of an Istan "palm" tree.
From the sands, Iesia leans over and gives Naara another look, this one
complete with arched eyebrow. But she says nothing. Straightening, she
simply shakes her head, rolls her eyes, and goes back to watching the chaos.
From the sands, Beli is still, still. Still. Still! And so many of them to
watch.
From the sands, Auste twists her head at the sound of her name, meets
Neiravi's offer with a surprised little blink. Moi? Yet, despite that
confident set to her shoulders, she does move nearer, with a sheepish
little pull of her lips. "Thanks," is murmured low to the other girl. Keeps
her hands to herself, though.
From the sands, Desdinova grins at the interplay between the girls on
either side of her, but her repl is to Neiravi. "I am sure she is up there,
she wouldn't miss this for the world." She gives Aust a welcoming smile to
their little knot.
IGEN-> R'din says, "It's gonna take me a year to edit this log."
From the sands, Kaveshun eyes Tannusen warily. It was that purring that
unnerved Kav quite a lot. But either way, he grunts and shrugs his
shoulders. "Sure ya will. I'll use ya to distract 'em if they come my way.
'Least that gold... Ain't she found someone yet?" He turns his attention
back, eyes roving from one side of the sands to the other as his feet pick
up their pace.
From the sands, Josilina feigns shock, "No! You wouldn't dare." And, in
return, "I'll cook /back/." Between the two of them, the Weyr will burn
down. "Has the gold found someone," she wonders, twisting to look - not
that it's hard to spot the young queen. "I'll get to -train- someone again.
I think I've forgot how." She murmurs her approval of the latest, asking
B'yan, "Any bets on this hatching, Weyrleader?"
IGEN-> Neiravi snickers. Me too. Maybe I'll just steal it from you?
IGEN-> M'tri consistantly refrains from editing Hatching logs, and has for
years.
IGEN-> R'din doesn't have your Impression message. ;)
IGEN-> Desdinova says, "M'tri is SMRT. I mean SMART."
From the sands, Tannusen always purrs! It's just more menacing in certain
contexts! "No, because you /hid/ behind me," the blond replies with
amusement. "What sort of Impression is that going to be if your dragon has
to do it from around my hip, hmm?"
IGEN-> R'din says, "That is, if you do."
From the sands, Fuzzy Navel Egg hops suddenly on the sand,s falling still
again once it lands. As the shifting, sliding sands around it slide down
the sides of the mound, becoming still once more, the egg lurches to one
side, tipping and tilting until it leans precariously over the lip of the
shallow depression it lies in, on the verge of falling.
From the sands, Crystalline Canary Clarity Gold Hatchling keeps her sister
under scrutiny for another few heartbeats. She'd like to watch her longer,
frankly. There's something about that one... two things prevent her: the
hunger devouring her from inside won't allow for much more dallying, and
she senses that mind. *The* mind. Her mind! Her precious one is there, and
she leaps, scrambles, skids, showering Neiravi with heated sand, seizing
the young woman with eyes alone before she can think of moving away.
From the sands, Sleekly Sombre Soldier Blue stalks his prey: which shall it
be? Even though he takes his time, however, there is something inexorable
in the way he moves: he does not pause, he does not linger near anyone, he
simply paces, paces, paces over the sands, slowly chasing whatever elusive
quarry he seeks.
From the sands, Crystalline Canary Clarity Gold Hatchling stops in front of
a tall girl with long black hair.
From the sands, The Crystalline Canary Clarity Gold Hatchling gazes into
Neiravi's eyes.
From the sands, Frozen Sandstorm Egg stops abruptly. Nothing happens for a
long moment then a chip of pineapple yellow shell pops into the air, pushed
out by the snout below. It skitters down the side of the egg, lost quickly
in the sand despite its bright color. Broad cracks scatter down from the
hole, quickly partitioning the egg into multiple jagged shards and freeing
the dragon within.
From the sands,
So Say We All Bronze Hatchling
Bronze, dulled to the point where it looks silvered and tarnished, follows
the bulky contours of this dragon's hide. His back is one smooth curve,
almost too even, marked with shallow 'ridges that resemble lines or wide
slits in his hide. The muscles of his back and haunches stand out in
sculpted relief and his movements - if slow and a little clumsy - carry an
air of purpose. Rust bronze highlights trace behind his headknobs, around
his eyes, and along the edges of his wings which, when spread, look a bit
stunted: a little too wide, a little too short, shaped in an odd mix of
angles and curves.
From the sands, Naara's still bouncing, looking every which way. "Oh!" A
brown from her favorite egg. "N-nova l-l-look!" she points in that
direction. She's near wired now, nervous energy channeled from all the
tension in the atmosphere and egged on--no pun intended--by the humming of
the dragons underneath the rest of the din, a driving constant in such
massive chaos.
Kassima grins brilliantly at both young riders. "There's only one finer
color," she says. "Lyss won't let me say otherwise. Make 'em chew, now! Eat
slow! There's more than enough t'fill their bellies if'n they take their
time."
IGEN-> Hector says, "Anyone see a theme in these dragonets?"
IGEN-> R'din says, "The soldier dragon is based off Eragon, definitely."
From the sands, Kaveshun furrows his brows, confused, at Tannusen. "They
won't be Impressing me, but Impressing ya. 'Specially not that gold-- Hey!
See, it went to her!" He calls out his congratulations to Neiravi, beaming
now that the gold had actually found someone that wasn't him. His face was
starting to get a bit more color as they eggs were winding down. "Ain't
gonna be much longer, I bet." And then as an afterthought he corrects that
with: "I hope." Shuffle. Shuffle.
From the sands, Auste freezes a moment, and stares with some strange mix of
horror and pleasure on her features at that gold - and Neiravi. There's
that low congratulation again, "Oh, well done," but she's quick to move
away - closer still to Desdinova and Naara. "Here, look, I'll come stand by
you so both of you can Impress too," she says, smiling weakly.
From the sands, Neiravi half-ducks, shying away from the spray of sand and
that dangerous charging dragonet which they all were warned against, time
and time again. But when she's blinking sand out of her eyes and
refocusing, the dragonet is still there. And how she *shines*. "Yours," she
says weakly. "Yours, Sislyth." She lets go of the hands around her,
suddenly not needing them. "Sislyth--you're hungry. Let's go."
From the sands, Neiravi helps Sislyth to a better spot.
From the sands, Desdinova laughs and smiles over Naara's head at Auste. "I
dunno. Maybe I'm the bad luck charm, and being with me is why Iesia and
Naara haven't. Might wanna keep your distance!" Neiravi is claimed, causing
the girl to squeal. "Oh, Ravi!"
From the sands, Meilyn only nod at Hector's comment, the number of
dragonets on the sands making it difficult for her to put enough attention
away to form words. Her mouth hangs open slightly but the girl seems not to
notice, her thoughts only for the dragons out on the sands.
"Listen to that? Eat slow. Chew." Celane's voice drops low as she speaks to
the blue dragonet, each vowel stretched out into soothing, reassuring
sounds. And there's meat, plenty of it, and Ce seems intent on making sure
her beloved has his fill.
From the sands, "No, no--" Tannusen quips in a distracted purr, "if I'm to
be the one to shove you out of the way of a charging one, I should at least
get to shove you <i>at</i> one that isn't charging. It's only fair, you
know. None of this Impressing /through/ /my/ stomach nonsense, I'm quite
attached to my bodyparts!"
From the sands, B'yan has his time to snort softly, watching the hatchlings
ambling about with light amusement. "Cook back," he repeats Josilina's
words. "Do you -want- the rest of the Weyr out in the desert between the
two of us?" Once the gold Impresses, a brow lifts and he adds over to her,
"You've just gotten your chance," with a nod towards the new weyrling. "And
I usually bet us getting atleast one bronze, and-" Pause. "Ah, I was
right." The bronze hatchling appears and he looks pleased once more. "What
about you, or have yours already come to fruition?"
From the sands, "Well, then," A'deth chuckles softly: Neiravi's whom he
turns up beside this time. "That settles that. Come along, then... Neiravi
and Sislyth. Kassima'll help you get settled in."
From the sands, So Say We All Bronze Hatchling doesn't make a sound as he
rises to his feet, broken amber shards scattered around him. His gaze is
intent, deep, still, as he studies his surroundings for the first time.
Unknown may be frightening but he will never show it. Instead, he turns his
head slowly, seeming to notice everything despite the chaos of the sands.
After his survey is complete, and only then, does he move. The unsteadiness
of his legs is ignored as he begins his all-consuming mission in life.
From the sands, Iesia says nothing more about Sylotra, though she does
smirk just a little. "Haven't what?" asks Iesia, having missed something.
It's in that little glance away that she misses the dashing gold, but when
she turns around, it's found. And so is Neiravi. An uplifted brow, and a
little shrug. "You know her?" Iesia asks Desdinova, unsurprised.
From the sands, Cunning Covetous Patina Green waits, and waits then sees
her opportunity and sneaks forth once more. Her sister's course taking her
towards those she only now notices There are other treasures to hunt! Not
this one, not that. Her sense of purpose growing as she takes herself on a
path before the boys, and once there she spies another who is touched with
gold and reds much as she herself is. It's before this person she'll plant
herself firmly. His amber gaze she'll peer upward to catch and it's he that
instead would seem to enchant her.
From the sands, Hector looks up as the the gold claims Neiravi, and he
tilts his head again. "Well now. I guess that shows you never know." Of
course, he never knew with any of the candidates, not as far as dragons
went, so it's not a big surprise. "You all right?" he murmurs to Meilyn,
nudting her slightly with his elbow, wonder if she has gone catatonic on
him or something.
From the sands, Cunning Covetous Patina Green stops in front of boy with a
sharp chin and amber eyes.
From the sands, The Cunning Covetous Patina Green gazes into Kaveshun's eyes.
"Yeah. Chew." he says. "And I'm holding the bowl away from me so I won't be
sick." he responds, aloud, to something his lifemate said. "No, it's not
your fault." he groans. "And slow down. I can hear you inhaling that food
from here!"
From the sands, Neiravi looks up at A'deth. It involves her looking away
from Sislyth, so it's difficult. "I--yes. Lead the way. Thank you. Her
name's Sislyth!" It is vitally important that everyone know this.
From the sands, "Ooh, 'Ravi!" Naara unintentionally shortens the name in
her quest to get all of her words out as fast as possible. Eventually it
gets to the point--as she babbles on about inanity--that nothing can be
understood. It's at that point that she claps a hand over her mouth and
catches her breath, eyes still darting around like mad. So much to see!
Neiravi strides in from the Sands.
Neiravi sets Sislyth to rights gently
From the sands, Beli eyes the gold, and Neiravi, and smiles. "Sislyth. I
like that." And then Kaveshun is next, and she takes a moment, collecting,
glancing around.
From the sands, "Roughing it would be good for them - oh!" Josilina
observes the gold Impress, and she bounces once more - though her eyes
flick, briefly, somewhere along the candidate line as well. "At least one
bronze? You lucked out. A gold and a bronze both, in an Interval. -That's-
lucky," she decides. "And now, I," her turn tones lofty, "don't bet. It's
vulgar." She throws B'yan a small, teasing look.
From the sands, Petite Paper Parasols Egg has been twitching for a while
now, sharp little motions that have edged it a few inches along the Sands.
Fracture lines appear, followed very shortly by a large hole, out of which
wriggles a sinuous little green. Getting its bearings, it creels loudly and
begins searching. Prowl, prowl, prowl. The creeling gets even louder as it
nudges past a cluster of girls, bumping them out of the way until it finds
Elvina in the midst of the group. "Well-well-how was I to know you were
looking for me, Alavarth?
More new Weyrling pairs filter in one by one. Kassima greets each as they
do, giving the same advice: feed them, *slowly*. Her fancy leathers have
picked up a few blood spatters. She doesn't seem to mind, or notice,
filling another bowl for Dali and quipping to Ch'ton, "You're in for a
rough time of it with that fear of blood, I'm thinking. On the plus side,
Weyrlinghood will get you over it if'n aught can. Anyone itching yet?" She
offers Neiravi the dazzling grin each new arrival sees and holds up that
bowl full of meat: "There's food for her! Shells, congratulations, all of
you."
From the sands, A'deth has barely enough time to see Neiravi off before
Kaveshun's lifemate finds him, but at least the quickening pacing has him
moving: no burning feet for him. "You, too, both of you. What did Luscinth
call you, lad?"
From the sands, K'avu helps Luscinth to a better spot.
IGEN-> Eostarra says, "Luscinth. /Great/ name."
From the sands, Fuzzy Navel Egg shivers suddenly and violently, causing the
sand holding it on the lip to collapse, sending the egg in a top-first
slide down the side of the mound. It begins to roll, picking up a little
speed, then, with a small bounce at the bottom, the shell seems to
disintegrate!
From the sands,
End of the Ravine Blue Hatchling
A tempest of navy swirls up and across this fellow's body, his coloring
clouded over, dappled in dark, murky shadows. An occasional leafy turquoise
peeks through the mist, but the brewing storm of his hide is all drama,
anticipated if perhaps not fully realized. His body is well-built and hints
at an athleticism to come, corded twists of darkness wrapping this way and
that, accentuating the tangles of muscles rippling beneath his dark hide.
His wings stretch wide and sharp, swirls of smokey gray-blue lifting the
eye from darkness to light.
IGEN-> R'din says, "Four blues! Dude."
From the sands, Sleekly Sombre Soldier Blue pauses, all of a sudden: has he
chosen? Has he finally found that singular person, that human who Stands
for him alone? Yes! Light to his dark, golden-white to his blackish-blue...
He makes his choice, fanning his wings wide and rearing up so that his gaze
meets Tannusen's.
Neiravi comes in rather slowly, since the small, jewel-bright gold beside
her is small and unsteady on sand. "Thank you. We're hungry. Or she is. Her
name is Sislyth. That's the *best* name." Yeah, a little distracted. "Right
over here, darling. Where the blood is." Ch'ton will get very little
sympathy. "Just remember to chew. Jaws up and down. It's easy." Even when
Sislyth plunges her head into the meat and starts with the devouring,
Neiravi's hands stay on her.
From the sands, Sleekly Sombre Soldier Blue stops in front of a slim lad
with platinum blonde hair.
From the sands, The Sleekly Sombre Soldier Blue gazes into Tannusen's eyes.
IGEN-> Lanisa paints R'din blue.
Ch'ton looks over at Neiravi. "Oh! Gold! Congradulations! What does that
make you, since Josilina is weyrwoman?" he wrinkles his nose and pulls the
empty bowl away from Mobeth. "He wants to know if you have more. And that
his nose itches." He nods and scratches the itch obligingly. He looks at
Kassima. "I hope so. I dislike my dislike of blood, and with Mobeth it's
gonna be tricky not being able to look at blood."
From the sands, So Say We All Bronze Hatchling moves towards the candidates
with purpose, taking the shortest route he can see. His wings flare as he
stops abruptly, progress checked by the impressing blue. He waits, patient,
considering each option now that he's closer.
IGEN-> Kayara says, "Igen used to be famous for its blues if I remember
correctly."
From the sands, K'avu was watching Luscinth, as if surprised to see her
walking beside him before A'deth catching his attention. He blinks up in
surprise, recognizing the name. "Luscinth er, oh, K'avu." He says with a
big sheepish grin.
IGEN-> R'din says, "Then I transferred to the perfect Weyr. ;)"
From the sands, Auste snaps her grey-blue head back and forth - crack, an
egg splitting there, a blue to observe - then, Kaveshun bonded over here -
and now Tannusen... oh! Still, that bronze has her attention, if only
because he so /commanded/ it, and the girl is silent and for the most part
motionless except for her teeth set in her lower lip, working furiously.
IGEN-> J'on says, "That's.. is that a record for Igen?"
From the sands, Iesia squints, towards the Sands and the remaining... "Is
that an egg?" she wants to know, jutting her chin towards a pile of shards.
Sand. Maybe an egg? The green is gone, and K'avu is given another of her
little glances, a small 'hm' of acknowledgment, but not much more.
IGEN-> R'din is blue, thanks to Lanisa! "Now how do I sprout wings?"
IGEN-> J'on says, "We didn't have tons of blues, but the ones we had were
memorable and active."
From the sands, "Neiravi?" Desdinova asks Iesia. "Yeah, I've talked with
her some, I like her. She's sweet. They'll be a good match, I guess." She
grins and gives a shrug, then looks back to the remaining hatchings. "Blue
everywhere! They are very pretty, blues. Daianth's blue. He'd like if one
of us was a Bluerider."
K'avu strides in from the Sands.
K'avu sets Luscinth to rights gently
From the sands, "Luscinth," Beli tries that one, too, though she's missed a
few as they stumble and match up all around her. She notes the newest blue,
too, and then the one before as he chooses Tannu. "Oh, there," she murmurs,
as if confirming something, and then glances to the bronze.
From the sands, Tannusen grins, and since Kaveshun is close enough to him
to talk to easily, he offers a slightly-smug "You were saying? And
congratulations!" before being left rather alone in his spot on the sands!
Ah well, more dodging roo--! And then the stalking black-blue is staring at
him, and Tannusen goes very still for a moment before blinking. "I -- A-ah
-- all right Dustenyth. Food first, though."
From the sands, Tannusen helps Dustenyth to a better spot.
From the sands, Hector looks right then looks left, realizing that the
candidate ranks are thinning dramatically as Impressions are made on this
side and that. "Wow, I wouldn't've guessed that one," he murmurs to
himself, which goes to show that there's a lot that he just doesn't know.
He glances again over to Meilyn, feeling a little comforted that she wanted
to stand with him.
From the sands, Calm again, or, well, calm-/er/, Naara listens to the two
women nearest her. "Ooh, a D-d-d-Daianth of my, my v-very ah, own?" She
grins. Apparently, the idea appeals. "Egg?" she asks then, only now
catching up. "W-w-where?" She's squinting to try and see. "I d-don't ah..."
Tannusen strides in from the Sands.
From the sands, End of the Ravine Blue Hatchling shivers and shakes all
over, vibrating every vertebra from head to tail, shaking out all the kinks
of being cooped up for so long. He manages to end up facing the opposite
direction of the Candidates, so does not see them. Candidates of unusual
size? He doesn't believe they exist. Just then he hears a noise behind him
and turns his head. Catching sight of a human being for the first time, he
chirps a dragonet-yelp and nearly trips over a wingtip as he tries to spin
to face them.
Kassima answers Ch'ton, "Weyrling, just like you. She won't be aught
different until you all graduate. More--" She considers Mobeth and how much
he's eaten already, and fills the bowl three-quarters full from the great
tub of meat. "'Twill be tricky t'oil his nose until he's done eating.
'Twill get you a bucket, though. They're all lovely... congratulations
t'you too, Kaveshun, c'mon and get some meat for her." The Weyrlingmaster
rises from her crouch to hook up two of the prepared oil buckets: one she
sets by Ch'ton, one by Celane, for when she needs it.
From the sands, Iesia laughs. Really, how could she not? She rolls her eyes
in a good-natured sort of way this time, and glances at Desdinova. And then
a little lean forwards to smirk at Naara. "Careful, now. I don't think Pern
could handle more than one Daianth."
From the sands, B'yan lifts a brow Josilina's way briefly at something
said. "I did," he states that as if it shouldn't surprise. Arrogant that he
is. "Luck out, that is." As another Impression goes by, "A lot of blues,"
he admits aloud. "I wonder if that's a sign, too. You should bet, you
know," he tacts on the last quickly. "I wouldn't think less of you if you
did." He either really means that, or he's phishing for marks to win. One
could never tell.
From the sands, "Gentler times ahead, perhaps," A'deth remarks to B'yan in
between hurrying back and forth, his limp getting worse the more he has to
hustle.
Neiravi is quickly, lightly, running her hands along Sislyth's neckridges,
and feeling the tiny paler flecks that facet her bright hide. "Yes, it
tastes better that way," she answers thin air. As the little gold gets down
to the serious business of eating, she can finally tear her eyes away and
smile brilliantly at Ch'ton. "Like she says, weyrling. I'll suffer just
like you," she teases. "No games of pick-up sticks for us for a while, I
guess. He's really lovely. So is yours, Kav!" She's happy, let the whole
world be happy with her and Sislyth.
From the sands, Beli is careful of that blue and all his movements, and she
skips a glance - very briefly - away from him and up toward the
clutchparents, and her fellow remaining candidates, too.
From the sands, So Say We All Bronze Hatchling hears a yelp and turns his
head. Is that where he is needed? No. His eyes continue their red whirl of
anxiety and hunger as he turns back. Now that the way is cleared, he steps
towards a young woman with auburn hair. He pauses, growling in frustration.
Suddenly, his head whips to the side and all frustration is forgotten. His
destiny is here. Complete.
From the sands, "I'm not sure it can handle /one/ Daianth." Desdinova says,
laughing back at Iesia. "The thought of two is... Well, scarey, truth be
told." She looks down at Naara and gives a squeeze of the girl's hand.
"You're doing really well." She says reassuringly. "I'm proud of you for
not running off the sands in a blind panic."
It's a revelation to Celane that more weyrlings have joined her, wrapped up
as she is in tending to her Autryth. "Oh! Look at all of us. Weyrlings."
She echoes Kassima's word for them all, and then spies the oil bucket.
"Oil? Yes, you need oil." She nods her head in agreement with the blue. "I
think I remember how to do this. Done it enough to firelizards. Let's see
here..." And thus the process is begun: the first oiling.
From the sands, So Say We All Bronze Hatchling stops in front of a lad with
dark brown hair and blue eyes.
From the sands, The So Say We All Bronze Hatchling gazes into Hector's eyes.
From the sands, Josilina watches the last shell break into a blue.
"That's... what? Four? Five?" she wonders. "Fair number. A couple more
greens, though." She's watching that last blue more closely than the
bronze, though she'll note his Impression with a pleased smile, wondering
of B'yan, "Who's that lad, there? With the bronze?" His last brings a laugh
from the Weyrwoman, "Be high and mighty of you if you did! But I've better
uses for my marks." She sweeps a hand to indicate the sea of broken shells,
"Too late for this batch, anyway."
K'avu was urging Luscinth off of the sands as one of his hands go to his
stomach again. This time, it was for another reason entirely. "Hope ya got
plenty of food in here, 'cause we're /starvin'/!" Well, at least the
dragonet is. He's grinning brightly as he waves to his fellow weyrlings
now, chuckling towards the others. "Thanks, ma'am," he calls to Kassima.
"But the name's K'avu now, apparently. Gonna take a bit ta get used ta."
His grin turns towards Neiravi now. "An' yers. Glad she ain't mine." He
moves to the buckets, already digging in. Well, his arms, not him, as his
green was just giving him the hungry eyes.
From the sands, "It w-w-would be okay if um, if I h-h-had one..." Naara
seems sure of this. "H-he behaves err, for m-me." Mostly. Sometimes. Maybe.
Leaning a bit closer to Desdinova, she smiles up at her praise and smothers
a yawn behind one hand. "Thanks." Another yawn. "'m s-s-sleepy..."
IGEN-> K'tel woos! :)
IGEN-> A'deth unquiets. XD
IGEN-> R'din buffs. "Aye, Dai sure knows how to pick 'em." ;)
IGEN-> Neiravi apologizes to Kassi and Lysseth for not Impressing bronze. ;-)
IGEN-> Desdinova would have paid to see that.
IGEN-> A'deth hmph.
From the sands, Hector clutches at Meilyn's hand for a moment before he
feels her fingers slip from his own. "H-hey, he's looking at you--" he
says, wondering if we're all going to see Pern's first female bronzerider
right here. But then he gets a better look at the bronze dragonet himself,
and he can feel his legs wobble. "What? Shells, I'm not slouching, Lekath."
He does try to straighten his shoudlers. "His name is Lekath!"
From the sands, Hector helps Lekath to a better spot.
Ch'ton wrinkles his nose in sympathy for his dragon. "Well, I'd oil it if
you'd stop stuffing your face!" he sighs. "You know what? I think you'd
give Destin a run for his marks on the eating aspect. No, it's not a bad
thing." aren't seemingly one-sided conversations fun? He sighs and pulls
the bowl away. He pushes it aside with a disgusting look towards it, then
scoops up some oil to take care of that pesky itch.
IGEN-> R'din says, "Lekath. I like that name"
From the sands, B'yan eyes the remains on the sands before answering,
"Hector, with the bronze," he picks up in a bare pause. "Gentler times."
This one is repeated from A'deth, a curious glance going in his diection
before he steps forward. At the last, "The turn is still young," is all he
says to that before he watches Hector and the little bronze head off.
From the sands, Iesia grins. "Mm, it survives." 'It' being Pern, no doubt.
Another little look for Naara, and a shake of her head. "And not fainted,
either." It's dry, a little amused, and Iesia looks straight once more.
"Oh," and then, with another rare expression of joy, she catches Hector's
Impression. "Hector!" This time, it's loud, and meant to be heard by him,
even if it's not.
IGEN-> Neiravi likes that it's a Cylon bronze.
"Just be gentle," Kassima encourages Celane, "but with your lifemate 'tis
hard t'be aught else. There's all she can eat and more, K'avu. Don't stuff
her too full or let her bolt without chewing; thicktail's about as pleasant
as vomit on the Sands would've been... trust me, you'll all see it in
action at least once. Congratulations," she adds to T'nnusen with a grin as
bright, as real, as the rest. "--I'm still nay a ma'am, by the by. 'Tis
'Weyrlingmaster.'"
From the sands, "And yours, Lekath's rider?" A'deth inquires of Hector,
gesturing for them to follow him off the sands.
From the sands, End of the Ravine Blue Hatchling takes a closer look at the
human-things and starts to move toward them, pausing every now and again,
but even then, swaying as if always keeping on his balance in case sudden
action is called for. It looks like this might be quite the adventure for
him! He narrows his eyes with virtually all of his eyelids. He might not
make a summer-home with any of them, but some of the skinnier ones are
actually quite lovely! He begins a prowl along the Candidate line, picking
up speed as he goes.
IGEN-> Tair says, "He can't be a Cylon. It's 'So Say We All'. Definitely on
the human team. ;)"
H'sen strides in from the Sands.
IGEN-> K'tel says, "His description. What's End of the Ravine Blue?"
H'sen sets Lekath to rights gently
IGEN-> Desdinova says, "H'sen?"
IGEN-> H'sen says, "Hector"
IGEN-> Desdinova doesn't see the derivation. :)
IGEN-> Auste echoes the H'sen?
IGEN-> Ch'ton says, "How does Hector=H'sen?"
IGEN-> A'deth says, "It happens sometimes, if a rider wants to break with
his past."
IGEN-> Desdinova says, "Ahhh. :)"
From the sands, "Hector, Lekath," Beli echoes, as it travels down the line.
The shorter line, now - something Beli, perhaps, is noticing. She eyes the
blue, watching.
From the sands, Meilyn looks in shock at the bronze dragonet before her, no
words being let out, Hector's fear of her going catatonic correct. As the
dragonet turns to its true impressee, she breaths out a sigh of relief and
steps to the side, a smile on her face for the new pair. "I knew you had it
in ya," Is all she murmurs on the matter.
IGEN-> Ch'ton says, "How does He'tor, perhaps. You could be a super hero.
HE TOR!"
IGEN-> H'sen sets Hector as an alias so it won't be quite as confusing :)
IGEN-> H'sen says, "I did consider H'xor ;)"
IGEN-> N'ren says, "By the power of Bronze Skull?"
IGEN-> K'tel groans!
Sislyth lifts her bright head from her first meal, eyeing Mobeth. A clear,
firm thought echoes through the room. << If he gets oil, so do I. >>
Neiravi laughs rather dazedly and looks to Kassi. "The oil's just over
here, right? I don't think she takes no for an answer. Keep eating,
darling, I'll find you some oil."
IGEN-> Eostarra always wanted to have a rider named C'thulu
From the sands, "You tell me when's a good time to bet, then," Josilina
replies to B'yan. "Hector," she echoes, a murmur, but really her full
attention is on the blue now. If anything, she's a little over-intent.
Lhiannonth, having ceased humming after the last shell cracked, dips her
head to her rider's shoulder, nudging her gently. "Last one," Jos murmurs.
"Any wagers?"
From the sands, Auste traces that bronze, finally absorbing his Impression
with a cheer for Hector - or, H'sen? - with a little cheer for the man. Out
they go, with the rest of them, and she's watching the last blue with a
tilt to her head and a bit of surprise. "That - that was it?"
IGEN-> Desdinova wants a dragon named Ozimandiath
IGEN-> N'ren likes his dragon just the way it is.
From the sands, Desdinova looks thrilled as H'sen impresses. "Now there's a
good choice. That boy needs a couple turns to grow up anyway, I'll look
forward to seeing the man he becomes." She grins and shrugs. "Looks like
just a couple left." She says, freeing her hand from Naara's to rest it
around her shoulders. "And I agree. Very tiring, and there's still the
feast to endure."
IGEN-> R'din loves having Charlie Chaplin. :)
IGEN-> Josilina reminds folks there's still a hatching going on. Please
keep the chat down a tad. :)
IGEN-> Gwinevra eyes. "Desi, you would!" :P
From the sands, Iesia smirks. "Anyone else find it fascinating that Hector,
who dislikes firelizards, just Impressed a rather large version of one?" It
amuses her, at least. "Watch out for the blue," is her last warning.
IGEN-> Desdinova hehs. And will shut up like a good girl. :>
From the sands, At this, Naara does, in fact, pale. Quite considerably.
"F-f-f-f-f-feast?" she squeaks, turning to look at Desdinova for assurances
even as she burrows a little deeper into her side. "D-d-do we /h-h-have/ to
go?"
From the sands, End of the Ravine Blue Hatchling is getting the hang of
this walking and running thing, now. Lifting his small wings out of the
way, he feels something drawing him to a Candidate standing somewhat alone.
This Candidate has committed one of the classic blunders, the most famous
of which is never get involved in a Dragon Poker game at Bitra. But only
slightly less well-known is this: never stand in front of a charging
dragonet on the sands! And with that, the distance is rapidly closed and,
head down and full of energy and determination, he runs full-tilt into a
skinny girl, gazing into her eyes.
From the sands, "Sure thing," B'yan answers on the bet, moving a little to
watch the blue hatchling. With Lhiannonth dipping a head down Josilina's
way, and Jaireth's own humming much quieter now, he frowns a bit at the
question and casts a long look towards the groups of candidates that are
left. "You never really know," is all he says, absently.
From the sands, End of the Ravine Blue Hatchling stops in front of a tan
girl with frizzy red hair.
From the sands, The End of the Ravine Blue Hatchling gazes into Auste's eyes.
Kassima points to indicate. "Those buckets," and she makes another trip to
the collection to bring more. Even the Weyrlings who don't need them yet
receive buckets; they will soon enough, after all. "This once, you get me
running errands for you. As soon as the Hatching feast's over you'll be
under Weyrling restrictions and rules. Enjoy freedom while you have it,"
she suggests. That amusement could be a good sign or a bad one.
Ch'ton pauses with the smearing of oil on his pretty, chatty blue. "Yeah,
the oil feels good. Hold on a moment. I can't think." he turns to Kassima.
"Weyrling rules? What rules?" he asks, frowning. "Sorry!" to his Mobeth,
smearing on more oil and rubbing it in good.
From the sands, Beli watches the blue - running! - headlong into Auste, and
then she grins, and murmurs, "Good choice." There's a little nod, too,
another mysterious confirmation, maybe for that and maybe for something
else entirely.
From the sands, "Hector'll do fine." Desdinova says firmly to Iesia. "Even
if he does have an odd aversion to healers. Strange, that, moreso than the
firelizard thing." She turns back to Naara, watching past her as Auste
Impresses. "And that's that." She says quietly. "And no, Naara. Noone will
make you. Not sure I much feel like it myself."
"I ain't gonna be eating this stuff, don'tcha worry," K'avu tells his green
as she regards him with those wide eyes. He makes sure that the food was
being chewed, making a show of it himself before dropping in another chunk.
"Yer gonna trap us in here?" he asks, jerking his chin up as he catches
some of Kassima's words, blinking in surprise. There's a light clang as
Luscinth knocks her nose into the bucket, and he looks back down to return
to his task.
From the sands, And down she goes - Auste tumbles backward from that
onrushing dragonet, a little cry (part irritation, part shock) escaping her
even as she tosses out her hands to catch herself. Crunch! "Peritreth!" The
word is breathed, just that: and then her hand's extended to the dragonet
with a bemused, silly sort of grin plastered across her face despite all
that hot, clinging sand. The redhead is back on her feet quickly enough to
reassure and caress and all that, and repeat: "Peritreth."
From the sands, "Yes," says Iesia plainly, a bit amused, "There is a Feast.
Where have you /been/?" she asks Naara. "Oh... oh /that/ one," she says of
Auste, snorting. "She could do with a bit of discipline, I think." Maybe
that's approval.
IGEN-> Iesia says, "CONGRATS WEYRLINGS!! Whee!!!"
From the sands, Auste helps Peritreth to a better spot.
Neiravi's 'thank you' is distracted again, it seems Sislyth has decided to
forego chewing. "No, you really do have to." She emphasizes this with
applications of oil, soothing the little queen into complaisance. "It
tastes better, and your stomach will hurt if you don't. Yes, it *will*. I
*do* know. Trust me." She looks straight into Sislyth's eyes, and the
dragonet snorts softly and starts chewing again. "Yes, like that. Yes, I'll
keep oiling you. Yes, you're beautiful." The last said heartfelt, and with
a low laugh.
IGEN-> Desdinova says, "Yes, congrats to you all."
IGEN-> J'on says, "Congratulations!"
IGEN-> Beli says, "Woohoo!"
IGEN-> R'din says, "Congratulations! XD"
IGEN-> Gwinevra says, "Congratulations, everyone!"
IGEN-> Lanisa says, "Congratulations, all :)"
From the sands, "Peritreth? That's a tongue-twister of a name." A'deth
points toward the entrance to the weyrling barracks. "That way, then."
IGEN-> Neiravi hugs everyone, again, some more!
IGEN-> Eostarra cheers for everyone!
From the sands, Beli says this one, too, aloud: "Peritreth." And then she
smooths her palms against her robe, straightening up - somewhere along the
line, her posture had wilted, ever so slightly.
Auste strides in from the Sands.
A'deth strides in from the Sands.
IGEN-> N'ren says, "Welcome to eat, drink, muck time, Weyrlings. The
others? Congrats on *not* having to become intimately acquainted with
shovels. :)"
From the sands, "I uh, knew t-t-there /was/ one I j-just..." She yawns
again. "D-d-didn't think..." There's a surprise. Now leaning a bit heavier
into Desdinova's side, Naara lets her eyes slide shut and sighs out
/another/ yawn. All that energy and now the lethargy. Cause and effect.
From the sands, "Shards!" Josilina snaps to attention as Auste goes over.
The Weyrwoman's already taking a step that way - much good /she'd/ do in a
Situation - when the girl rights herself. And there's no blood gushing
everywhere, so she steps back. "This is the worst," she mutters that,
low-low-low, to B'yan. She keeps half an eye on Auste as the girl's led
off, but she's already moving forward again to face those remaining. "I'd
like to thank you all, on behalf of Lhia, Jaireth, the Weyrleader, and the
rest of the Weyr for standing for this clutch. You were a wonderful group."
"Nay entirely." Kassima answers K'avu first. "For the first couple of
months, 'tis here and the Training Field you'll be most of the time, and
the Lake. Rules... there are a lot of rules. All you had as a Candidate
with a few more added on. Don't go too far from your lifemate," she ticks
off on her finger. "While they're still so young, they could need you any
moment. Salute all riders. Treat everyone with respect. Keep yourselves,
your dragons, your couches clean--well, trust me, 'twill give you chapter
and verse soon enough. Tonight's for joy." A smile, bright and warm for the
new dragon pairs.
From the sands, And just as fast, it's over. Iesia seems to be a moment
behind, and frowns at the suddenly empty sands. At Josilina's approach, and
turns that direction. What does one *do* in this situation? Smile? Iesia
settles on a little head-bob and a tug on Desdinova's hand.
T'nnusen seems more dazed than anything; though he gives a polite nod to
Kassima's congratulations, he doesn't say anything at all for a few minutes
as he goes about ensuring Dustenyth has plenty to eat. It's understandable
if he's a bit wrapped up in... things, right?
H'sen finds a nice quiet spot where he can stuff Lekath with as much raw
meat as the new bronze will eat. "Shells, don't take my fingers off too,"
he scolds the dragonet. "If you don't slow down a little, how will you know
when you're full?" Suddenly, he feels like he needs to be a whole lot more
responsible, since he has a dragon depending on him.
Ch'ton grins. "Here here to joy!" he grins and scritches his little dragon.
"No! These are robes, and yes they are really white. No, you won't be
staying in here all the time, and no, Auste won't eat you." he sounds
exasperated, trying to answer all the questions as they're asked, though it
isn't apparent if the last one is a legit question or not.
From the sands, Desdinova offers a curtsey to Josilina as she approaches.
"It was an honor to be asked." She says politely. She's being tugged, but
doesn't let that deter her from her duties. "Congratulations on a
successful hatching." And with that, she lets Iesia draw her away, and
Naara with them.
From the sands, Watching Auste go over towards the barracks, getting
injured even, "A little rough won't kill them," B'yan is easy at Josilina's
mutter, following her towards the remaining candidates after a quick glance
after Auste. Once arriving, "There's a feast, so stick around if you like.
We'd love to see you there, and around in the days to come." This is
probably a rare moment of hearing any speech from him. Rare indeed.
Auste's a bit stumbly; granted, she's trying to tend to Peritreth, and to
her own self, too - cradling her left wrist with her other fingers tightly
wrapped about it, as she enters. She eyes the others for a moment, lighting
grey-blue eyes on Chaton (no - Ch'ton?) and then... well, everyone, really,
but beyond that she's just got eyes for the little blue at her side.
From the sands, Josilina scans the line, gaze catching on one or two faces
more familiar, and her lips thin. "If you need a ride somewhere else, that
can be arranged as well. And if you'd like to stay for longer, you're more
than welcome. I know," she pauses, "I know it can be disappointing. But if
you're here, it's because the dragons saw something special in you. And we
appreciate the time you've put in here. Thank you again." And that seems to
be the dismissal, as Jos drops back a little, watching them trickle off.
From the sands, This is not a comfortable Iesia situation, but she does
manage a polite, "Yes, an honor," though it sounds a bit awkward coming
from her. B'yan is given a narrow-eyed look, but she says nothing. "The
Feast, I will definitely be attending. If just to drain a bit of your wine."
From the sands, At Josilina's approach, Naara stiffens a little, but
doesn't back away. She's too sleepy to care and the woman is familiar
enough to not send the warning bells off in her head. The weyrleader,
however, is a different story and at the sound of his voice so close, she
squeaks and leaps behind Desdinova, peering around her friend's shoulder
warily. "T-t-thanks, but I um...I t-t-think bed s-sounds better..."
From the sands, Beli braves the Weyrwoman's little speech, though she
doesn't meet her eye. Looking at the clutchparents, the shards, the sand,
the others standing - but she says, "Thank you for having us," without too
much delay.
Celane sets Autryth to rights gently
[Editor's Note: I went OOC briefly here to deliver the OOC welcome-to-
Weyrlinghood spiel. We picked the RP back up afterwards.]
From the sands, Meilyn gives a wry smile, not having expected much
differnt, but disappointment is still written across her face. She gives a
half bow to the Weyrwoman, the words taken as intended, the courtesy
accepted. She turns off towards the exit, waiting to see if any will follow.
From the sands, Desdinova offers a polite curtsey to the Weyrleader as well
before being led out by her friends. "C'mon, Naara. We'll move our stuff
back to the dorms before we sleep, that way it's done."
From the sands, Desdinova slips into the small opening in the southern wall.
From the sands, "I will meet you later," Iesia murmurs to Desdinova. With
their dismissal, Iesia drops her hand and heads out of the Sands.
From the sands, Meilyn slips into the small opening in the southern wall.
From the sands, Iesia climbs up into the Stands.
IGEN-> Josilina belatedly congratulates the weyrlings, and wants to thank
everyone for a great hatching cycle, especially all who stood. You guys
rock. :)
IGEN-> Iesia takes a bow.
From the sands, Naara shakes her head. "I'll d-d-do it in the um, th--" She
yawns in the middle of her sentence. "The m-morning." And with that, she
trudges sleepily after Desdinova.
From the sands, Naara slips into the small opening in the southern wall.
IGEN-> R'din says, "Encore, encore!"
IGEN-> Desdinova says, "Congrats to all."
From the sands, B'yan catches the remark from Iesia with a lopsided grin
and a raised brow before he turns towards Josilina and bows. Offering her
his hand, "Want to swing by the barracks before we head towards the feast?"
he offers, his hazel eyes twinkling with mild amusement.
IGEN-> Ch'ton says, "Thank you, Jos! This was one of the more memorable
moments of my life."
From the sands, Beli curtseys, as well - perhaps it's habit, with the
clutchparents, though she's still not looking to meet anyone's eye - that
is, until she glances toward the stands and lifts a shoulder, before
slipping out.
From the sands, Beli slips into the small opening in the southern wall.
IGEN-> B'yan adds as well. "Congrats to the candidates class and the new
weyrling class. This has been a very great cycle and lots of fun!" :)
From the sands, Josilina looks at the hand - will it bite? - before taking
it, nodding. "I'll have Lhia check with Lysseth, first. I don't want to
interrupt the first stages of respect and terror-instilling. They're very
important, you know." Jos keeps an eye on the candidates, lingering, until
the last one is gone. Lhiannonth, for her part, is already rising,
stretching her joints. Jos stoops to pick up a purple shell fragment. "They
were so pretty."
From the sands, B'yan nods, "Very well," B'yan agrees before he leading
Josilina out of the sands. Jaireth, for his part, seems to be sticking
around, though once all parties are gone, it wouldn't be for long.
IgenW-LC> B'yan comes down the stairway.
IgenW-LC> Josilina comes in from the Bowl.
IgenW-LC> Josilina comes in with the Weyrleader, still pink-faced from the
sands. "At least that's the last time we'll have to stand out there," she
remarks to B'yan. "For a while, anyway." Hopefully a long while, her tone
says. Teasing, she wonders, "Ready to meet -parents-?" She indicates the
small crowd that's already milling, slow to grow as weyrlings meet their
staff, ex-candidates change, and others slowly trickle from the stands and
ledges. Then: "Shards. I could eat a runner. Want anything to eat?"
IgenW-LC> With Josilina's hand placed in his arm, "Good while, I hope,"
B'yan seems to correct in a near-murmur as he takes stock of those already
within the cavern. He didn't look too happy to be meeting parents, and it
translates in the look he sends her way. "How about I smile and nod while
you do the hand-shaking?" he offers blithely, already spotting a pair of
parents coming their way. Food, for now, seems to not be on his mind.
Auste sets Peritreth to rights gently
IGEN-> Josilina urges anyone who's up for it to come join us for the
feast/party in the LiC. Before B'yan drinks all the wine. ;)
IGEN-> Iesia says, "Leave some for me!"
IGEN-> Beli will be there shortly! :)
IGEN-> B'yan eyes Josi, "Too late." ;)
IGEN-> N'ren will be there as well, soon as he can get this young lady here
mounted.
IGEN-> A'deth hehs.
Kassima has her hands full distributing the meat and the oil, with all the
pairs now Impressed and here. The Barracks were designed to hold many more
young dragons than this; they certainly aren't crowded... but so much
liveliness in a relatively small section of them may make it seem so. "Have
I congratulated you all?" she wonders. "D'you all know each other's new
names, where there are some?"
IgenW-LC> Josilina, too, spots the approaching pair. "But you're so much
more charming," she wheedles the bronzerider under her breath. "And - oh
look! Lord Igen!" Josi splits from her Weyrleader just before
parental-impact - and it would appear Lord Igen is in fact a platter of
slow-roasted meat with greens, as that's where the Weyrwoman ends up. She
loads a plate - and a second, and even collects two glasses of wine, one a
bit fuller than the other. Perhaps she's not entirely heartless.
IgenW-LC> Iesia ambles out from the inner caverns.
IgenW-LC> R'din comes in from the Bowl.
IgenW-LC> B'yan opens his mouth to say something - probably something
inappropriate - before he finds her ploy. By the time Josilina makes
contact with a very delicious-looking 'lord Igen', the Weyrleader's lost in
handshakes and fakes smiles. Politeness doesn't comes often from the
dark-skinned man, by looks alone he's seems to be struggling with the few
cordial words he's able to utter.
H'sen looks up when Lekath finally appears to be growing sleepy and sated
from food. "Ma'am, I'd like to go by H'sen from now on. I feel like I need
to be a different person from what I was in the past." He gives the
bronze's uneven headknobs a rub as the gangly creature seems to be trying
to climb into his lap for a nap.
IgenW-LC> R'din enters the Caverns, wearing his sisal blue tunic with
matching leather pants the same color normally reserved for Gathers. The
rider has Mercutio, a brown, perching on his shoulder. Humming softly to
himself, he trots over to the feast table, peering critically at the choices.
Ch'ton shakes his head. "I know Hector... I mean... H'sen's now. I'm
Ch'ton... and the girls keep their names, correct?" he then changes gears.
"Yeah. I understand how you feel. Like you weren't complete before this...
but I still feel like Chaton. Just... with a shorter name..." the pauses
aren't from uncertanty, juts from the nearly non-stop chatter of his lifemate.
Auste is quiet enough, for once, as she leads - or Peritreth leads - or,
well, together they pick their way past shapes already sated or being oiled
or simply revelling in the glow of Impression. To the meat! The small blue
is insistant: curving his neck up and around to peer at Auste, words
exchanged, the girl replying aloud, "Well - yes, but - no, but - alright, I
suppose." She retrieves and retreats - somewhere near Cha-, no, Ch'ton, but
with plenty of room for her and Peritreth, and, with a slow smile of
delight spreading, the girl settles on the floor to begin feeding the blue
his first meal.
"'Tis Weyrlingmaster, He--H'sen. I'm still nay a ma'am. Use ranks," Kassima
tells them, "when you know 'em. So long as Lekath likes that name for you,
'tisn't for me t'be objecting." She settles to a cross-legged seat on the
floor of the Barracks. "Women occasionally shorten theirs. Only men have
t'be doing it... don't ask me why. I'm just grateful. K'sima lacks something."
IgenW-LC> Late, but clean, Iesia wanders slowly into the Living Caverns
crowd. Aconite rests on her shoulder, having proudly reclaimed her perch
with her tail wrapped possessively around the ex-candidate's neck. Hers.
Iesia isn't concerned, and has her attention towards navigating strange
faces on her quest for... whatever she's questing for. Maybe food. Maybe
wine. Maybe blueriders? The latter she finds, and it's with an almost shy
grin that she wanders over to R'din.
IgenW-LC> Josilina doesn't leave B'yan abandoned for too long - though the
Weyrwoman's way-laid by small talk on her way, too, and she awkwardly
balances plates and glasses while exchanging 'How do you do?'s and 'Yes, it
was lovely, wasn't it?'s. "Yes - oh, your daughter Stood? Well, yes, all
our candidates were great assets to the Weyr," she finally manages to cut
into the Weyrleader's conversation, handing him a plate and the fuller
glass. "They should be out soon. Just changing, and all." She, clearly, has
not, curls a bit sweaty, and there's sand still on her shoes. "Mmm," she
murmurs low to B'yan, noting the recently entered Iesia, "She was a
Candidate, wasn't she?"
H'sen nods to Ch'ton. "Yes... and it's knowing that whatever you did
before, you can't be going back to it." He finally settles Lekath on the
floor so he can begin applying oil to his hide. "Yes, Weyrlingmaster," he
says, then he gives the bronze a little frown. "Lekath says he will remind
me the next time I forget." He wonders if having a dragon scolding him is
going to be an advantage or not.
IgenW-LC> Taking the plate gratefully once the Weyrwoman appears by his
side, "Excuse me," was his cue to exit from the pleasantries, his fake
smile still plastered on his face when he turns to see the one in question.
Opting to drink the wine as he steps forward, "I know that one," he drawls
on the ex-Candidate. "Iesia." He's nearing his second cup already as he
swallows down half of its contents.
IgenW-LC> R'din picks up an eating utensil, poking skeptically at one of
the presented foods. Iesia's entrance goes unnoticed, but the little flash
of light pink by his knees gets a glance. Looking up briefly at the woman
next to him, R'din then looks away to poke at the food again, but he
suddenly stops, freezing for the moment. Both brows furrow, turning to look
again at the woman, resulting in both eyebrows shooting straight up. "Pink."
IgenW-LC> Beli ambles out from the inner caverns.
IgenW-LC> Oblivious to her name being mentioned, Iesia just stands there
beside R'din. A little lift of her eyebrow, a glance at her dress, and she
says, "Hm, noticed did you?" She takes a half step back and gives a little
twirl. "Yes, pink. Did you not know that about me?" And now she's grinning
a little, looking smug. Aconite chitters, and Iesia raises her hand to
soothe the still ruffled firelizard. A glance, and she's spotted B'yan.
It's not a lengthy look, but it's not a friendly one, either.
Ch'ton nods. "Yeah. No going back." he nods and moves on from the nose to
rub oil on other parts of Mobeth's body. "Yes, I'll let you see Destin,
soon. No, you can't go out. I'm still oiling you!" he sighs, exasperated.
Question onslaught!
Wryly: "That should help if'n extra laps around the Bowl don't do the
trick." Kassima rubs oil and blood from her hands with a stray cloth,
splotched enough to have very, very likely been used for this purpose
all... it hasn't been all evening, has it? It's only that so much has
happened. "When you're done with the food, and the oil... there's a feast
in the Living Caverns in your honor, and since 'tis so it seems right t'me
you should go. If'n you want to. You and your lifemates, if'n *they* want to."
IgenW-LC> "Iesia," Josilina repeats, and her eyebrows arch. The name, it
seems, is not as unfamiliar as the face. "Well." She says nothing else on
that, distracted by more visitors and the general chit-chat attached to
them. She stays in the general vicinity of the Weyrleader, unless he makes
distinct steps to separate himself, and when the well-wishers abate she
remarks to him, "Good clutch, don't you think? We should celebrate, some
time." A wicked smile, over the rim of her wineglass, "Bake a cake." She's
a party animal, this one. "Any plans now that you're less sands-bound?"
IgenW-LC> Beli whirls in from the inner caverns, surrounded by a gaggle of
people. Relatives, one can only assume. There's a pretty, dark-haired woman
whose hair is curly instead of straight, wearing an abundance of bracelets,
and a fairer, taller fellow - plus a very elderly woman wearing even more
jewelry than the other, and a younger boy who seems the most normal of the
lot of them. All of them are fussing with Beli, who looks vaguely bothered
but not really enough to do much about it, and asking a lot of questions
and making a lot of suggestions. The curly-haired woman - perhaps Beli's
mother - is saying, "Those colors are excellent for today, just the right
tone, you'll feel better in no time, but I don't understand why you didn't
just wear your fur, it's quite the perfect thing, with those /stones/ and
all the properties, and - " Beli manages: "Sherri. It's fine, really."
IgenW-LC> Another pair of parents waylay B'yan, but he's able to eat some
of his meal before the pleasant act must return. "I thought you said
'celebrate'," he drawls to Josilina as he moves toward the drinks table.
"Not cause trouble by any means necessary. Baking a cake with our skills is
just that." He finishes off his wine and reaches for the bottle on the
table to fill again. "I'm thinking a trip out there is in the works," he
adds on plans. "Jaireth wouldn't budge while the clutch was hot, but now
he'll be more amiable. I've got taverns missing their patron, their
gossipmonger, their ally." He could be joking. Really. Walking passed the
table where R'din and Iesia stood, and passing a smirk for Iesia's glare,
"Back to breaking hearts again," he concludes with rehearsed flourished.
"And you, Weyrwoman? That weyrmate of yours lets you out and about to paint
the Weyr red?"
IgenW-LC> "Pink." repeats R'din, eyes dropping straight down to watch that
little twirl then back up. "Can't say I did. If you haven't noticed by now,
subtlety doesn't really work with me. I figured you for dark, blood-red." A
wink and a smile, "But I have to say, it doesn't make you beautiful. You
make /it/ beautiful." Beli and her family gets a wary glance. It's quickly
decided that this 'Sherri' is best avoided, eyeing the Weyrleader as he
passes. "I think I'll have some wine. I heard it was from his own stores."
He tilts his head at B'yan to Iesia, grinning as he moves over to where the
wine bottles are, taking one for himself.
H'sen slathers plenty of oil onto Lekath's hide, thinking at first this
will make him greasy and slippery, but the dragon's hide seems to drink it
up as fast as he can put it on. "What do you think? Want to go to the
party, Lekath? You're not too sleepy, are you?" Lekath yawns, giving H'sen
a good whiff of the dragonet's recent meal. "Ugh. Well, you can sleep for a
while if you want."
IgenW-LC> Iesia makes a face. "Blood red? How cliche." She grins at R'din,
even if B'yan cannot be entirely ignored. "At the moment, I'm breaking
nothing. And in a month? I'll be fixing again." She follows the
bronzerider, narrow-eyed, and nods at R'din. "His store, you say?" and the
bluerider has her full attention once again. "Then lets get two. I can
finally drink as much as I want again." So, of course, it's time to get
smashingly drunk. "Oh dear..." that would be for Beli and her herd of
'relatives'.
Bunt! Peritreth knocks around that now-emptied bowl, poking his head in to
rattle about for a moment, sticking his tongue to lap at the pool of blood
at the bottom. Auste, quite suddenly, laughs; lays her hand on the little
blue's head with a smitten smile down at her lifemate. "If you think you
can eat it. But," and here she pokes at his bulging stomach, picks a little
at the quickly-flaking hide, now dried of egg fluids, "Are you sure you
wouldn't like some of that nice, soft, pretty oil? Hmm?" Affirmative! A
nudge at her arm, at her side, and the girl chuckles again. "I'm going, I'm
going!"
Ch'ton nods. "Yeah! We'd love to go out and feast." he turns to his
lifemate and gives a scratching. "No, not more food for you. You've got to
be stuffed already. Food for me, now." he nods. "Can we go now,
Weyrlingmaster?"
IgenW-LC> Josilina doesn't spot Beli and her entourage - if she did, there
might be a lot of squealing, and tackling, and poor Grandma might
accidentally end up in the line of fire. The Weyrwoman's too busy shaking a
hand, smiling, and assuring the Holder of Forks that yes, they did get
their tithe, and yes, she did see the Fork lad on the sands, and yes, it's
a shame the bronze went to someone else. "Well how do you suggest we
celebrate, then?" Jos challenges B'yan, when she has the breathing room.
"Oh," her gaze settles on her wine, and then floats the room, as if
-looking- for another anxious parental unit. "he should. I mean. It's not
his say afterall, is it? We're more penpals, these days - Beli!" She breaks
off, welcome distraction. "Beli! Les - come /here/," and she's beckoning
the girl and the gaggle.
IgenW-LC> Lanisa comes down the stairway.
IgenW-LC> Some may have taken the time to get snazzy, but not Lani. She
makes her way down the stairs in her regular attire, a few fresh ink stains
on her fingers that she hasn't troubled herself with scrubbing off yet.
Kassima slides a glance from Auste to Peritreth's stomach, and back again,
and says, "Nay much more, Auste. They'll eat themselves sick if'n you let
'em--saying naught of how little they enjoy that, 'tis always fun t'clean
up." Her wrinkled nose suggests the 'fun' may be of the olfactory variety.
"Ch'ton, you may. Anyone may," she raises her voice to tell the group at
large, "whose dragonet's tended to and comfortable with the idea."
IgenW-LC> "Well if you insist on baking," B'yan seems to suggest, lifting
both brows to Josilina as his meal gets demolished. "We can offer the cake
to the brand new batch of weyrlings. Call it our way of welcome." He sets
the plate down and just holds onto his cup, moving with her as she speaks
about her weyrmate. He says nothing for a moment, giving into nods and
greetings as he passes people, before responding with "Penp-" Pause.
Josilina is off with Beli with her entourage and the Weyrleader is looking
after them with a blink. He could likely follow but chooses not, instead
steering back in the direction of the tables and towards R'din and Iesia.
IgenW-LC> R'din nods, wiggling his brows at Iesia, "Aye, blood red. I
figured it was one of the reasons you became a Healer, so you could see it
all the time." He teases, "Two, eh? All righty, then." And a second bottle
of wine is picked and handed over to Iesia. "Or did you mean two for
yourself?" He begins to reach for a third...
IgenW-LC> Beli manages to shoo off some of her family before too long - her
grandmother hobbles off, humming to herself, and her father takes to the
meal tables before getting further distracted, running into a familiar
face, likely from last time. Her brother (one assumes) glances around to
make sure no one's looking, gives Beli a quick hug around the middle, and
then dashes off to the inner caverns before anyone can catch him. Beli is
left to survey the caverns, looking a tad tired, and that's when Josilina
spots her. The ex-candidate looks appeallingly toward her father, who is
paying no attention whatsoever, and then Sherri is marching the both of
them over to the Weyrwoman.
Ch'ton walks through the tunnel and out to the Bowl.
The slim redhead nods absently for Kassima - Weyrlingmaster Kassima! -
while she digs into her pot of oil, spreading it thick across Peritreth's
hide, much to the blue's obvious delight. Neither of them seem quite
prepared to face the feast yet, and though Auste's stomach might be
rumbling she's entirely too busy tending to the dragonet. "Mm," an
acknowledgement for that 'fun' clean up duty, and she glances for a moment
at the blueling's stomach, tracing one prominent piece of meat with her
finger. "Y'hear that, then? You'll make yourself /sick/ if you eat any
more. So don't."
Mobeth walks through the tunnel and out to the Bowl.
Peritreth rumbles sleepily.
H'sen puts a couple more dollops of oil on Lekath's shoulders just for good
measure, even as the dragonet sprawls out on the ground to sleep. "You'll
be all right sleeping here on your own, won't you? I'll only step out for a
moment." He smiles faintly, running his hand over the dragon's soft hide.
"I know, you'll still be in my head, no matter where I am."
IgenW-LC> "Oh no," says Iesia, holding up her hand against an additional
bottle. "One for me is plenty. Probably more than enough, after candidate
restrictions." She does have the decency to reach for a glass, rather than
drink it straight from the bottle. And then B'yan comes over, and Iesia's
expression sours. Glass in one hand, bottle in the other, Iesia looks
momentarily at a loss for what to do next. So, she pours herself a glass of
wine, thumps the bottle down behind her where she can guard it, and slides
her arm over R'din's. "Hello, Weyrleader." It's polite, but only just.
IgenW-LC> N'ren comes in from the Bowl.
IgenW-LC> Sunika comes in from the Bowl.
IgenW-LC> Josilina does catch B'yan's suggestion, and flashes him a grin,
"Brilliant. Let's do it." And then she's all caught up, walking forward to
meet Beli and Sherri part-way. She even lets out a bright, "Sherri!" with
dubiously sincere enthusiasm. "So glad you could all come - you'll stay an
extra day and have dinner with us tomorrow, won't you?" And by 'you' she
seems to mean 'Lesnof', as she glances his way, for all that he's out of
earshot. "Hey, Beli," she greets the girl more quietly, reaching out to
squeeze her shoulder. "Weyrsecond," she greets Lanisa, seeing her come in.
"Glad you came down!"
IgenW-LC> N'ren enters, escorting a young Holder lass, and explaining,
"Dragons expend most of their energy breaking their way free of their eggs.
The eggs are hard, but not brittle, see. So they need to replenish that
energy immediately, especially if they want to, well, grow. But since their
minds are linked to their weyrlings, it can be hard to tell which one is
hungry. Or thirsty. Or sleepy. At least for the first long while.
Eventually, both figure it out."
Kassima has to smile, watching H'sen and Lekath. "You'll be able t'pick out
a couch for your own. For now, so long as he's comfortable, he's fine
sleeping there." Auste--or is it Peritreth?--gets a nod too. "'Twould hurt
you, m'lad; the meat will be there still when your stomach's nay so full."
IgenW-LC> Lanisa hasn't gotten very far. A few steps from the stairs and
she's handed a glass of something by a wingmate. They exchange a word or
two, and as the other moves on, she sniffs at the glasses contents and then
chuckles, lowering it without a sip. Josilina's greeting has her attention
though and she moves a bit closer, "Just jotted down the important bits for
the records first, eh. The rest can take care of it's self tomorrow. Glad
to be off the sands?" she asks, and then it's to Beli she nods, commenting
as if to test the waters, "Not this time again I guess."
IgenW-LC> Sunika casts a look about once they're inside, but her attention
remains primarily -- and quite politely -- on N'ren while he speaks. Her
expression is one of wonderment, just a wide-eyed expression that might be
better suited on a young child hearing a story for the first time. "Really?
Oh, oh that sounds dreadful -- not knowing if it is you or something else."
T'nnusen has been quiet this whole time, possibly talking to the hatchling
he crouches beside rather than talking aloud. Dustenyth for his part, once
he's sure he isn't going to starve to death on the /spot/, has slowed down
in his eating as though warned to not get sick, and eventually his lifemate
takes the food away. When Tannu looks up finally, it's to find the oil and
start in on the almost-black hide. "Does it get more normal, talking out
loud and in your head both?" he finally asks, working with the efficiency
of a relatively knowledgeable young dragonhealer.
IgenW-LC> It's in heading back toward the tables where the wine is that
B'yan catches Josilina's agreement. He looks back over his shoulder and
grins to that, before turning around finding himself, cup in hand,
face-to-face with R'din and Iesia. Lips thinned a bit and regarding the
polite greeting wryly, "Enjoying the wine?" he drawls with one look going
purposefully towards the bottle she's guarding. Not a 'Enjoying yourself',
even. It's supposed that that's his greeting. Glancing fully at R'din then,
"Enjoyed the hatching?" he tacts on, matching Iesia's polite tone with one
of his own.
H'sen looks up towards the couches, but Lekath is out like a light, so
H'sen is reluctant to move him. "I'm going to look in at the party, then
gather my things from the candidate barracks. Don't worry, I'll be back."
He gives Lekath a reassuring pat, but the dragonet looks to be the farthest
thing from worried.
IgenW-LC> Sherri is...full of enthusiasm. "Josilina! What a delight! Lovely
Hatching, as always, though of course we're all a little disappointed, but
I tell Belior, she can't predict - well, not these things, anyway. Of
course she wasn't surprised, but you know her. Les'll be over in a moment,
I'm sure - oh, you're looking a bit peaky, love, what have you been doing
with your hair? You mustn't tie it back tightly overnight. Let me give you
- oh!" and then she's spotted whoever Les is talking to, and scampers off.
Beli remains, seeming impassive - or steadfastly refusing to blush. At
least now she's able to look at Josilina properly. "I don't think they're
going to stay, actually." If Beli has anything to say about it. Agreeing
with the Weyrsecond, she bobs her head, "Apparently not."
IgenW-LC> R'din considers Iesia's words, "Good point." And the third bottle
is left alone. His own bottle hasn't been opened yet, and he does so as
Iesia pours her wine, copying her by pouring his own cup, only to find his
arm taken up by Iesia's. This means he can't hold both the bottle of wine
and the glass, so he settles for Iesia's arm and the glass, sipping from
it. "Aye, it was nice enough, Wingleader. Some excellent future riders."
R'din replies in answer to B'yan.
H'sen walks through the tunnel and out to the Bowl.
IgenW-LC> H'sen comes in from the Bowl.
T'nnusen sets Dustenyth to rights gently
IgenW-LC> "Hm," N'ren says. "I'm not sure I'd use that word. 'Dreadful,' I
mean. At least, not in a negative context. It is something that is 'full of
dread' in some ways, but it's also one of the most wonderful things that
can possibly happen. Because, amongst other things, it means that you can
never, ever be alone again. I mean, even should you find the one woman or
man you can give your heart to, the bond between rider and dragon is so
much, much more." He gestures to the food table, and says, "Would you like
something?"
Oiling's finally done, though Auste continues to gently run her hands all
over the hatchling - special care spend on his headknobs, inspecting his
wings, between his toes, before finally she's satisfied her curiosity (for
now, at least) and sits back. She watches H'sen's departure with a little
tilt to her head, and glances down towards Peritreth. "Would you?" Mm. The
blue thumps his tail on the floor, just once, and the girl does stand, now,
hand on her lifemate's head. "We're just going to see how it is. Probably
back in just a minute." When Peritreth passes out, that is.
Auste walks through the tunnel and out to the Bowl.
IgenW-LC> Auste ambles out from the inner caverns.
"Somewhat. I talk out loud t'Lysseth most of the time, as long as we've
been together--you don't have to, or won't always have to. You can think
the words to 'em and they'll hear." Kassima taps her temple with her index
finger. "Speaking's a shortcut. You'll end up doing whichever makes you
comfortable, likely." She waggles cheerful blood-smeared fingers after
H'sen, and after Auste.
IgenW-LC> Claimed. Iesia's arm remains firmly on R'din's, though she's
watching B'yan. "I am sure I will be, once I have a sip." And so, at that,
she lifts her glass and sips pointedly. Despite not being asked, Iesia
offers, "It was interesting," in a forced cheerful sort of tone. Another
sip of wine and she says, "I suppose I should congratulate Jaireth. A gold,
in his first clutch. How... interesting." Her tone, though polite, is
almost bored.
IgenW-LC> Sunika's shoulders rise and fall in a gentle shrug. "Well, I
suppose it would not entirely be negative, but- it must still be awful, if
you feel pain the same way as you feel hunger and thirst from yours." The
rest is given a slow nod, an attempt to be understanding while unable to
fathom the idea. She stretches up on tiptoes to skim the food that has been
laid out, approval drifting across her features. "Oh, oh yes. A pastry,
perhaps? I am not terribly hungry."
IgenW-LC> Josilina pulls back, as if Sherri had tried to -touch- her hair
as well as comment on it. "I'm just - " and then the woman's away, that
fast. "Tired," the Weyrwoman finishes. "And my hair is -nice-," she says
defensively to all and none. She glances at Beli, and has a particular
emphasis for the girl's name when she says, "How're you doing, Beli? Did
Lorr run off?" She nods to Lanisa, "Good idea," and to any others who pass
and require the Weyrwoman's pleasantries.
IgenW-LC> N'ren didn't seem to have a problem with that, in that he led the
way to where the pastries were tabled. "We do." A pause. "Feel their pain,
I mean. And they ours. But, hopefully, those kinds of pains don't come
until we are trained to deal with them. And, seeing as how we're in an
Interval now, there are less chances for it to happen." All you had to do
was look at the older rider's face to see that he's had plenty of *that*
kind of pain already.
IgenW-LC> Hector--now H'sen--enters from the Bowl. Oily handprints are
smeared on his white candidate robe, which now seems like it has seen
better days, no matter how straight the hem is. "Shells, I'm dying of
thirst. My throat feels like the Igen desert." Although there seems to be
plenty of wine available, he hunts down a pitcher of juice. He pours a
glass, drinks most of it, then refills it, before he even looks around at
the rest of the room.
IgenW-LC> "I'm just fine," Beli replies quickly, and even flashes Josilina
a little smile, as if to prove it. Attempt to prove it, maybe. "Your hair
/is/ nice," she adds, rather more convincingly, and then nods, "I think he
went to find Jor. Something about pie."
IgenW-LC> Sunika leans in to visually peruse the pastries available, head
tilting this way or that as she tries to determine which she wants more.
Her hand moves away from N'ren's arm to allow her to get a plate and
finally pick out some sweet thing or another, commenting, "Oh. Yes, I
suppose that makes sense." To her credit, she's good about not staring ...
but she can't help but get at least a look at his face. "It must be a very
strange thing indeed," she decides on the idea of Impression.
IgenW-LC> "Don't drink too much of it." The admonishment could have easily
been meant for R'din after his statement, since B'yan's gaze went to the
cup the bluerider was holding. It could also have meant Iesia and her
pointed drinking easily. "Still got drills in the morning, beyond," he
turns this one on R'din with a nod. "And I agree. I think there are some
weyrlings there that will be worth keeping an eye on." Back to Iesia, and
he pointedly takes a drink from his own cup. "Interesting," he uses the
word she uses twice. "I prefer summing it up as quick. Jaireth's pretty
proud of himself." What it means to him is not spoken. Lifting up the glass
slightly as if in a mock toast, "So. What will become of you now?" he
drawls the statement, lingering on each word. "Moving on or sticking around
so that I can enjoy more of you witty banter and withering looks?"
IgenW-LC> Lanisa gives a curious look between Josilina and Beli, watching
then as Sherri moves off and then chuckling, "Nothing like an excuse for
family to get together though, hey?" She moves to take a sip, reconsiders
her drink, eyeing it as moment and then throws caution to the wind and
proceeds with a shrug before the tasting, "Eh, not bad." She proclaims and
then ventures on about the hidework, "Better to do so when my memory is in
order, really." Something near the doorway catches her attention and she
smiles, "Looks like they're venturing forth now."
IgenW-LC> Auste slips into the cavern shortly after H'sen, though the
redhead has a small, navy dragonet in tow and perhaps for that reason the
young girl lingers on the outskirts of the crowd - crouching now and again
to drape her arm around Peritreth, indicate something or another, silent
words passed between the two.
IgenW-LC> R'din watches Iesia momentarily, chuckling at the forced tone
from the woman that has his arm so firmly. The bluerider also has to
chuckle at B'yan's admonishment, "Oh, I won't deplete your stores. Haven't
forgotten my duties." He adds as an afterthought at the drills, nodding,
"H'sen and Ch'ton. If they turn out to be as good as I'm wagering, we'll
have to get them in our Wing." At his words to Iesia, he glances to see her
response.
Tannu circles around the dragonet, the bucket of oil nudged along with him
with a foot. "I had to learn to think /at/ Jaelith when she had to pull me
out of the water all those times," he says simply, "it doesn't seem to
require quite so much force with... him." For obvious enough reasons. The
him in question stays nice and still, angled eyes whirling more green than
blue, though his head turns an inch this way and that, peering around
without disrupting his human's work.
IgenW-LC> "Thank you," Josilina appears mollified, though there's a quick,
sharp glance before that telling Beli how much she buys, how much she
doesn't, and how much she won't bring it up right here, right now. "Pie?
Hm. Well. I shouldn't expect to see him until tomorrow, then, his clothes
all stained. Boys and pie." Lanisa's remark catches her attention and she
looks out, "Oh, that's the lad who the bronze found - oh, and /that/
girl... brought her dragon," she notices with some surprise. "She's the one
who fell down, isn't she?"
IgenW-LC> "Move on? When you have been nothing but hospitable?" A snort.
Iesia takes another long sip of her wine. "I was here long before you,
Weyrleader. And soon, I shall be back in my," and there is a definite
inflection on that word, "Infirmary. Healing." Or breaking. She's calm,
cool, and collected until that 'our' wing. And then she nearly chokes on
her mouthful of wing. "Your Wing?" she asks, looking between B'yan and
R'din. It's a lingering look on the bluerider, something between shock and
irritation. Apparently, someone has not been paying attention.
IgenW-LC> N'ren lifts his shoulders, "No matter how we try to explain it to
Candidates, you can't really. You have to experience it. You get some of it
when you Impress a firelizard, but it's very different when you're talking
about a dragon. With a firelizard, you may get emotions and, while many
prefer to be treated, they're largely self-sufficient. Dragons are another
story. It's *much* more than just emotions. It's thoughts, images,
feelings, and such. And, at least at the beginning, there's very little
that they can do themselves. They can't bring down a wherry buck by
themselves. Even if you do have one, you need to cut it up, because if they
try and swallow too much at once, they'll choke. And then, of course,
there's the one true anathema for all Weyrlings, for at least the first
Turn or so." He's not gonna say it, though.
IgenW-LC> Beli ignores that glance, for right here, right now, anyway, and
as Josilina and Lanisa survey the arrivals, she does, too. And she smiles -
really, this time, if briefly. "Hector," she supplies. "And Auste. - Oh,
no, it's not Hector anymore, though." That gives her pause, it seems.
Kassima's right brow pops up; she doesn't ask. "Unless you're a Lessa or
Moreta," she explains instead with a moment's grin, "talking t'other
people's dragons isn't exactly... I'd say 'tisn't quite natural, nay in the
way talking with your lifemate is. You don't need any effort t'be hearing
him or knowing his feelings, d'you? He's right *there*. Same for him with
you. 'Tis what 'tis t'be lifemates." Even now, so many, many Turns after it
was her in a Barracks like this with a scrawny, testy green half sprawled
in her lap, her mouth softens when she thinks of Lysseth. "He'll mayhaps
hear things without your meaning him to."
IgenW-LC> H'sen smiles around as he approaches the tables where the others
sit. "Hello, everyone. I wanted to stop in for a few minutes, at least."
Iesia? Healing? He had forgotten what she did when he first met her. Maybe
he will just block that from his mind. He grins over at Beli as she calls
his name. "It's H'sen now. I imagine I'll have to answer to Hector for a
little while longer, at least." He doesn't seem to mind, though.
IgenW-LC> Sunika gathers up some utensils for her pastry, a sidelong look
being given to N'ren as he speaks. While she parses his words, her forehead
starts to crease with thought and the effort required to try to put all of
those things into context. Much as the word dreadful seems fitting --
cutting up meat? honestly! -- she doesn't say it aloud; the wrinkling of
her nose seems to say plenty however. "It sounds like a terribly vast
amount of work," she finally remarks, "but work that must clearly be worth
it."
IgenW-LC> Beli smiles back at him. "H'sen. I'll remember - I don't think I
heard it, out there. Well done, you."
IgenW-LC> It seems it's Peritreth who notes the attention from Josilina and
Beli first, and he lifts his snout high in their direction even as Auste
turns with surprise. She peers for a moment, narrowing grey-blue eyes in
their general direction before, with an almost languid motion, she salutes
- with her wrong hand, an awkward sort of motion, but the other is still
strangely held against her body - but it's a salute nontheless. And tilts
her head; repeats under her breath to herself, "H'sen. H'sen." Committing
it to memory.
IgenW-LC> "Aye, I think so." Lanisa replies to Josilina, adding to them
both, "Tis good to see. I think I spent the whole first night in the
barracks. A bit of party might have been nice, but..." she shrugs, then
tips her head as she considers Beli's words, "Still is. Same person, just a
new chapter in his life and a new name to go with it, eh." And with H'sen's
reply, she quietly repeats the name, as if committing it to memory before
saying to him, "Oh aye. To some you may always be Hector, I expect."
IgenW-LC> B'yan, despite his focus on the two before him, seems to keep an
eye on those entering the caverns and leaving. He spots the weyrlings
starting to trickle in, including one bringing her little blue along. "My
stores?" Something said from R'din gets a sharp glance at him, then Iesia
in quick succession. "This wouldn't be from -my- stores, I assure you.
Despite popular belief here, I am not that generous." Tasting the wine he
holds, "And I wouldn't carry this stock, either," he adds after the taste
with a touch of wryness. "I'd like to keep tabs on all of them," he
continues on non-chalantly, "but there are certain ones that bear closer
watch. You're betting on those two? Financially, of course," he adds with a
short chuckle, until something Iesia says gets him to pause. Lips
twitching, "You were indeed," he drawls then, tipping his head into a nod.
"I'll continue to be hospitable." He could add more, but the lingering look
she sends to them both gives him his cue to leave. Stepping forward to grab
one of the bottles, "Excuse me, good evening," he states to them both,
leaving them to it and getting swept up in a chatty group of relatives.
IgenW-LC> "Auste," Josilina repeats. Then: "Hector - H'sen," correcting
herself just as H'sen corrects Beli. "Lhia'll remember, if I don't," she
comforts herself. She returns Auste's salute, crisp in comparison, and
calls, "He's a fine looking blue - won't get into the wine, I hope? How's
your - arm?" she guesses.
IgenW-LC> R'din raises his eyebrows and drops them quickly, as if saying
'Hm' at Iesia's words. Blinking at the reaction to his words, R'din raises
an eyebrow again, "Don't choke on me now, that you're finally free! And
yes, Sandstorm Wing. I've been in my wing longer than B'yan here." At
B'yan's words, he eyes the wine, "I knew I shouldn't have put stock in
gossip. Well, not financially, but if you want to, I'm willing to do so."
R'din rises up to the challenge, "Name your price. Half a mark each? A
mark?" And H'sen gets eyed more carefully, missing B'yan's departure.
IgenW-LC> Beli nods to Lanisa, considering that. "I suppose that's true.
But - it is different. He - they are different." She says that with
conviction. Auste's salute makes her tilt her head - likely for the other
arm rather than the gesture, though perhaps a little of both. Maybe she
shouldn't be standing next to the Weyrwoman.
IgenW-LC> H'sen nods to the others acknowledging his new name. "When Lekath
came into my head, I felt like I needed to make a break with the past.
We're headed for new things, big things, me and him. And we can't be
looking back at the past." He notices R'din looking at him a little oddly,
though. "What? What exactly are you betting on me to do? I may be able to
help you out to let you know if it's likely."
IgenW-LC> "It seems 'B'yan here'," and Iesia says it with the same tone
R'din uses, "Hasn't been long anywhere. Pity." Maybe not. Iesia manages a
careful bit of maneuvering and manages to get her glass in the same hand
that's claimed R'din's arm, using her now-free one to smooth her dress. And
then B'yan leaves, and Iesia smirks as he departs. She reclaims her wine
glass and takes a long swallow, draining the rest of it. "I did not know he
was your Wingleader," she tells R'din far too casually. "Oh, there's Hec...
H'... Him." Right. The weyrling.
IgenW-LC> N'ren nods, "It is. In both cases. It begins to pay off soon.
There's the fact that you're never alone again, as I said, and then...
well, there's all the things that you would normally have from raising a
child." A pause. "Well, if a child had four legs and two wings and was
several times your size. The first time your dragon takes to the air. The
first time your dragon lands properly. The first time you fly *with* your
dragon. Making your first set of straps. The first time you fly in
formation. The first time you go *Between*. The first time you see your new
weyr - that one is especially interesting for riders who grew up living in
cots in residential dorms or with several siblings. The first mating flight
- that one's a real eye-opener, especially for those who are Craftbread or
Holdbred. But yes, a large amount of work. And every bit worth it. But it's
a really large amount of nearly unending work for a long time - or what
feels like it, at least."
IgenW-LC> The slim girl, gently escorting the hatchling (though still
looking about excitedly, now slightly wilting about the edges; she'll have
to carry him back to the barracks soon) picks her way towards Beli and
Josilina, carefully herding the blue from behind. "Auste," she repeats
unintentionally once she's near enough to do it, and she grins a rather
silly little grin down at Peritreth. "He is, isn't he? And - no, not at
this rate, anyway." What with the falling asleep and all. "I won't keep
you, really, we should be getting back -" But that approval, it was worth
thanking her in person, wasn't it? And she's even seemed to've forgotten
all about her arm (unless Josilina mentions it, at least) and the redhead
lifts it, a little cautiously. "Ah. I'll - get it checked tonight. It's...
sore."
"That was a rather specific set of circumstances," shrugs T'nnusen,
distracted, "Drowning? Yell really loudly in my head. Yes, I know," he adds
to the dragonet, finally speaking to him out loud -- probably because he
was already talking in that 'way', "You'll fish me out too when you're big
enough."
IgenW-LC> "A mark's fine with me," gets tossed over B'yan's shoulder
towards R'din, casting a thin-lipped smile at Iesia without responding to
her words. Just as well he heard the first part and left on polite terms,
right? "H'sen," he calls, walking over to the bronze weyrling with a much
less fake facade than he's been sporting for the parents. "I wanted to
congratulate you. Lekath's his name?" Bottle in one hand and a cup in the
other, the Weyrleader refills his glass as he approaches.
IgenW-LC> Sunika, try as she might, can't quite get her head around the
concept. The end result is just a funny look that resolves into a carefully
sculpted neutrality complete with a dutiful smile. "I can scarcely
imagine," is admitted and she ducks her head, glancing about for an empty
table of some sort. Anywhere to sit, really. And if the idea to ask about
any of it crosses her mind, the very thought that perhaps she *doesn't*
want to know is enough to still her tongue. Instead, "It sounds ...
delightful, I think. But I can see how that sort of life is not for
everyone." Herself included.
IgenW-LC> "True," Lanisa allows, giving Beli a smile and then noting
quietly, "Even you and your fellow candidates... Well former candidates,
are some different from before you stood though, I'd wager. just not as
much so." She slides one hand into a pocket and pauses to look into her
glass again, though she doesn't drink. "I think," she tells H'sen,
"...you'll find you have a lot of new things in store for you now."
IgenW-LC> Josilina smiles wide, an echo of maternal pride, "And he's - "
she pauses, information relaying, "Peritreth? Good name. I hope you two
will do well - I'm sure you will." She glances sort of behind the girl,
"Did your family come?" The wrist gets a low tut from the Weyrwoman,
"Definitely. It could be a twist, or something. Best get it healed up
before you -really- have hard work."
"Mayhaps he won't have to, by the time he's big enough." Kassima gets a
foot under her and rises with a pop of her joints. The oil buckets
straggling around, the meat bowls, she gathers to tidy up. "You might pick
up swimming as a side-consequence of washing him, if'n naught else. Like
Ch'ton and the blood--nay just like, but he'll have t'be dealing with it
and he'll come away with the problem gone. Or he'll go insane from having
t'be wrist-deep in a herdbeast half the morning every morning."
IgenW-LC> R'din peers at Iesia's chore of reassigning her wine, ""Yeah,
well, can't help, it really. Every time the Weyr changes its Leaders, so
does my Wingleader. When I came, M'val was the Leader." He hums softly as
he regards H'sen, considering whether or not he should inform the Weyrling.
"I like the sound of that. 'Big things.' It means you'll be an excellent
Weyrling, won't you? And if you're good enough, you'll get into B'yan and
my Wing, Sandstorm Wing. Only the very best get in it. I have a mark on you."
IgenW-LC> N'ren nods again, "It's not for everyone." He adds, after a
moment. "That said, there has been many an occasion where someone who did
think it was for them was someone who was Searched. Very few have
declined." His second oldest daughter, amongst them. He shrugs, taking a
moment to put a plate of his own together. "So, this is the second time
I've seen you here with Kannanth's rider. Are you from Fort Weyr?"
IgenW-LC> H'sen wrinkles his nose at Iesia. "'Him'?" he echoes. "That's all
I am? Hmmph!" And here he was worried about her going back to being a
Healer. He nods to B'yan, even as he isn't sure how he should take being
the subject of a bet. "Yes, sir, Weyrleader, sir." He tries to remind
himself of what Kassima told them, that they should refer to people by
their titles. "Lekath's his name. Thank you. We'll do our best by Igen
Weyr." He nods to R'din. "And if we end up in Sandstorm Wing, we'll be
proud to be there."
IgenW-LC> Despite that, Iesia remains a bit sour looking at this new bit of
information. Wingleaders. Hmph. "Yes you," she tells H'sen, focusing on him
rather than the previous conversation. "What is your name now, Hector? I'm
not sure I caught it." Or maybe she did, but doesn't feel like being so
polite towards him. Hm. She releases R'din's arm so that she can turn and
grab her bottle, refilling glass. She doesn't set the bottle down, however,
but keeps it firmly in her grasp. "Hungry?" she asks R'din.
IgenW-LC> Sunika cants her head to a side as she considers N'ren, noting,
"Well, surely it would be impolite to decline in the first place, wouldn't
it?" Such seems to be her presumption on the matter. She waits while he
assembles his meal, the question being answered with a dutiful, "Not
originally from Fort, no," as if the obvious needed to be stated on that
front, "but it seems that I am there now for a time. It has been
interesting and a touch difficult to adjust."
IgenW-LC> That pride of Josilina - it's redoubled again (if that's even
possible) on Auste's face, and she nods fairly agreeably to having her
wrist checked. "Don't want to sleep on it, either way," is stated;
priorities a bit skewed but for the same result. The young girl turns, too,
at the thought, and she frowns slightly. "My ma might've. Da probably
didn't." Scans the crowds, shrugs. "No big deal, really, especially not
since - whoa!" Not since Peritreth, perhaps she was going to say, but it's
cut off as the dragonet in question simply... falls asleep. And Auste, with
an apologetic little smile for Josilina and Beli and to the room at large,
excuses herself to carry the hatchling back to the barracks to get settled
in for sleep.
IgenW-LC> Auste walks out to the Bowl.
IgenW-LC> Beli doesn't reply to Lanisa, but seems to be thinking on it. She
lets the rest of the conversations happen around her, listening here and
there, and lifts a hand as Auste heads out, new lifemate in tow.
Auste strides in from the Bowl.
"Maybe, maybe not." It's possible that there's more to it that Tannu might
have explained, but... well. Dustenyth finally cranes his neck to peer up
at the blond, making a small noise.
IgenW-LC> "He looks like a sturdy bronze," B'yan replies, nodding to H'sen
and passing R'din and barely arched brow. "Should be a handful. Mine was.
Still." The talk of wings get passed over for a nodded farewell, moving on
to the next weyrling that passes him. A passing holder insists on shaking
his hand, exchaning low words with him as he does so.
IgenW-LC> R'din nods, satsified with H'sen's answer, "H'sen. Well, it's a
good name, and you haven't disappointed Daianth and I yet. He's very proud
of you and Lekath, by the way." Seeing Auste leave, R'din is a bit
disappointed, "I wanted to see him up close... Ah, well." As for Iesia's
question, he shrugs, shaking his head, "Not at the moment." A little smile,
then R'din leans forward to whisper in Iesia's ear.
IgenW-LC> H'sen gives Iesia an annoyed look. Even though he said he
wouldn't mind if people called him Hector for a while, somehow it bothers
him when Iesia does it. "It's H'sen. That's all right with you, isn't it?
Or maybe you have a name that would be a better suggestion?" Not that he
would take it. Lekath likes his new name, and that's what matters. He nods
to B'yan and then R'din. "Yes, he seems very determined and solid in my
head. It's... interesting having him there. I don't know if I really knew
what to expect with a dragon, but Lekath surprised me on all counts."
IgenW-LC> Honest, truthful, Iesia turns to H'sen and tells him, "I am proud
of you, H'sen. Lekath is a wonderful bronze. Congratulations." But that is
as far as she goes before she's wry, and amused, and perhaps a bit snarky
once again. She tilts her head for R'din's words, and her smile grows. She
even puts the bottle of wine back on the table. Taking his arm once more,
she tells him, "Yes. Most certainly, yes."
IgenW-LC> N'ren leads the way from the food table(s) to some place to sit.
Considering the busy nature of the feast, it's not surprising that the
place to sit is near the others. "Not impolite at all, no," N'ren says with
a shake of his head. "There are some who simply do not want to ride a
dragon. It is, after all, dangerous." A pause. "Well, was, at least. When
riders fly against Thread, they take both their lives and the lives of
their dragons into their hands. And consider what I said about the
dragon-rider bond. The danger is less now, but it is still there. That
said, many harbor a secret desire to be accepted to dragonkind, so when
they are Searched, they accept."
IgenW-LC> N'ren pauses again. "Oddly enough, it's mostly Holdbred and
Craftbred who are like that. The grand majority of those who are Searched
and choose to refuse are Weyrbred. My daughter, Morena, for example, was
Searched when she was barely a Senior Apprentice, but chose not to, and now
she's a Master Harper herself. She was born here." He smiles sadly for a
moment. "I really miss her mother too. You remind me a bit of her." A
shake. "So, you're a Holder, then? How'd it happen you ended up at Fort?"
IgenW-LC> R'din smiles at H'sen, "It's very strange having another voice in
your head, yeah. Sharing your every thought and feeling and his in return.
Well, congratulations on Impressing." He nods his head at the new Weyrling.
When Iesia puts down her wine, R'din takes up his /and/ hers in one hand,
giving Iesia a wink, "Excellent." And he leads the ex-Candidate out on his
arm.
IgenW-LC> "Glad to hear it," B'yan sends H'sen's way, sounding pleased.
"It's a bit jarring the first few weeks having a dragon rummaging around in
your head, so if ever you need to talk..." he offers the weyrling before
the holder taps his arm and gets his attention. Before long the Weyrleader
could be seen in deep talks with the man, heading out of the cavern with
both bottle and cup still in hand.
Kassima stacks the bowls in a nested tower. "Lysseth's only too pleased,"
she comments appropos of not much. "Three out of five, that's nay 'tall
bad; she might prefer if'n one of you had Impressed green, but that's Lyss.
He's a handsome one. A'course, I don't think I've met a dragonet I'd admit
*wasn't* handsome."
IgenW-LC> B'yan walks out to the Bowl.
IgenW-LC> H'sen nods to B'yan. "Thank you, I'll keep that in mind." He
looks around as many people begin drifting out. "I should probably gather
up my things from the candidate barracks and get back anyway."
IGEN-> K'tel waves! Did I miss the dancing?
IGEN-> Iesia says, "No, just the wine drinking. No dancing yet!"
IGEN-> H'sen says, "Dang, I wanted to see some table dancing!"
IgenW-LC> H'sen strides through the passageway into the Inner Caverns.
H'sen strides in from the Bowl.
IGEN-> N'ren says, "I have not managed to get Josilina drunk enough to
dance wearing (only) a lampshade yet, no."
IGEN-> R'din says, "Niiight, people! And my congratulations/condolences to
you new Weyrlings!"
IGEN-> H'sen says, "Whoa, that'd be something ;)"
IGEN-> K'tel says, "Not the kind of dancing I had in mind. :) Night, R'din."
IGEN-> N'ren says, "Hey, I thought I'd make him feel at home. That's a
bronzerider-style post. :)"
"He's very /dark/," T'nnusen comments, "I think it suits him. Who else did
she search?"
IgenW-LC> Sunika ghosts along obediently after N'ren, claiming a chair only
after he's taken his. The pastry is put to the knife, small pieces being
cut up for her to spear on a fork and summarily eat. She listens, head
cocked to a side in a curiously birdlike gesture for much of it, eyebrows
lowering, lifting, and evening out to convey a range of difficult to
describe expressions. "Oh. Oh, I see." Even if she doesn't, it's of no
consequence. There is, however, a curious, "Oh?" at the description of
Morena's mother, though she'll not pursue it. To the last, one narrow
shoulder lifts, her answer a polite, if not terribly informative, "I had
gone to Fort to meet with someone about something. Now, I do not know why I
linger there."
IGEN-> Josilina eyes N'ren. And thinks you should come down and get the
dancing started then, K'tel. :)
IGEN-> K'tel says, "Nah, that was definitely a brownrider. ;)"
IGEN-> K'tel says, "Your wish is my command, Josilina."
IgenW-LC> K'tel comes in from the Bowl.
IGEN-> H'sen says, "I'm surprised we didn't end up with more PC greens.
Everyone I thought was going to get green ended up with blue!"
IGEN-> A'deth says, "People just dug blues this time around. :3"
IGEN-> A'deth lso sorries for idleness, blood sugar just crashed about an
hour ago, and I'm all x.x
IGEN-> K'tel says, "Very pretty blues. Us poor bronzes will have to really
work on our gallantry to keep up. ;)"
IGEN-> Lanisa says, "Who wouldn't adore a nice blue ;)"
IgenW-LC> Josilina is still here. Quiet, but here, sipping wine and
listening to a proud parent gush about her daughter's new green, and does
Josilina think she might some day lead a wing? When her newly weyrling'ed
offspring comes in, she bustles away, leaving the Weyrwoman faintly amused
and casting a glance around, faintly wary of any approaching Holders.
Kassima goes after the oil buckets next. "Beli," she says, "and I'm very
sorry she's nay here. That's her second time in a row left Standing.
Naara... shells, I hope she's all right. Neiravi, you, and Ch'ton."
IGEN-> H'sen says, "Blue's a fun color :) Awesome descs on all the
dragonets, even."
IGEN-> K'tel says, "Did you eat, A'deth? Hatchings aren't /that/ important.
:)"
IGEN-> <Kassima> Lysseth would like a nice blue. She missed dinner.
IGEN-> K'tel winces!
IgenW-LC> "Dare I suggest that you might like it there?" N'ren says,
seriously. "And yes, you do. Molly - she rode Celerith, a blue dragon here.
She was Holdbred. And more than a bit shy too." His eyes have gone distant,
yes. "There were a lot of people in that clutch that I really liked. Triola
was sweet too. She came from the WoodCraft, as I recall. Then there was
Allis. There was never anyone else like her before or since then. And
Katany, of course. She's pretty unusual herself, especially for a goldrider."
IGEN-> Kassima says, "Nah, Lyss likes blues. So do I. Blueriders, now, make
excellent stew. ;)"
IgenW-LC> K'tel comes in, humming cheerfully as he steps around various
celebrants. He finds himself a glass of wine. He sees Josilina left on her
own and heads towards the Weyrwoman.
IGEN-> Lanisa paints Tisi purple ;)
IGEN-> K'tel says, "And you're the WLM this time, Kassi? Half the class is
in /trouble/!"
IGEN-> Lanisa grins and was evil, aye. Kassi's in charge and everything. ;)
IGEN-> A'deth's diet is restricted; what he ate didn't seem to boost it
back up. SO went out to get something, should not be an issue shortly.
IGEN-> Kassima hugs A'deth.
IGEN-> A'deth says, "Sorry for the medicalangst. <3 ._."
IgenW-LC> Sunika looks at N'ren like he might well have grown another head.
"Like it? There? I-" she has nothing further to say on that, her mouth
snapping audibly shut. Much with everything else, it's just one of those
things that hasn't been given an iota of consideration. The man's
recollections are more worthy of her attention and, while she nibbles on
her treat, she nods a little, a faint and somehow sympathetic smile
surfacing. She finds herself wondering, "Oh, they were all from the same
clutch?"
"Beli would have been awesome to be in the weyrling class with," T'nnusen
agrees with a sigh, "and Naara isn't so bad either. Timid, but..." and the
blond shrugs, giving Dustenyth a final rub between the eyes with
oil-slicked fingers. "Maybe their dragons will be there next time."
IGEN-> K'tel nods, "Blueriders aren't good for blood sugar, A'deth. Good
call."
IGEN-> Lanisa snugs A'deth
IGEN-> A'deth leers.
IgenW-LC> Josilina spies K'tel, and flashes a smile over her wineglass.
"Evening," she greets him. "You make the hatching? I didn't see, but -
well, it's near impossible to see from down there. But!" and this seems to
be a point of high cheer, "No more sands time! Did you know any of the
candidates?" Hatching day - or maybe just any day - breeds high chatter
from the Weyrwoman, but she cuts herself off to sip at her drink.
IGEN-> Kassima says, "And yep, I'm the WLM, but I won't eat the Weyrlings.
It'd be like making stew out of my own young. ;) (...However, they would
further improve their odds of being saved by maternal feelings if they'd
change their names to things starting with K!)"
IGEN-> K'tel says, "Whew! Dodged that one. ;)"
IGEN-> A'deth XD
IGEN-> H'sen changes to K'sen!
IGEN-> Josilina eyes. Hey. Wait. No talk of eating Lhia's babies. ;)
IgenW-LC> N'ren nods, "All their dragons were, yes. There've been a lot of
good people that are no longer with us. Not just here at Igen. All of the
Weyrs, the Crafts, and the Holds. I may be old, yes, but all it means is
that I have a lot of ood memories." He asides when he hears the question.
"He was up on the ledges with Kheveth and myself, Weyrwoman." His tone
is... somewhat respectful. Josilina isn't *his* Weyrwoman. Well, that is,
the one he 'grew up' with, at least, and all of them get compared to her,
one way or the other.
IGEN-> Kassima says, "No, no, only Lhia's babies' riders. The dragons are
safe. ;)"
"Usually--" And A'deth returns from assisting other weyrlings, "Usually,
that's why, and that's all it is. ...Have I offered you my congratulations,
yet, Ta... T'nnusen?"
IGEN-> Josilina supposes that might be okay. Maybe. Lhia might still
object. She's uptight like that. ;)
IGEN-> A'deth says, "Just assorted nommings. An eyebrow here, a toe there."
IgenW-LC> K'tel smiles back at Josilina and laughs at her questions. He
inclines his head to an empty seat near her, "Mind if I join you before I
answer all that?" He ends up answering before he gets the answer, also on a
high from the hatching, "Zmeth passed me the highlights. Now I can give
Hector...I mean, H'sen, a hard time about what color his dragon likes." He
chuckles, already contemplating his revenge.
IGEN-> K'tel says, "Yay! K'sen. ;)"
IGEN-> N'ren suddenly has an odd Pokemon vision: "Hector evolve to....
K'sen! Auste evolve to... Kauste! Celane evolve to Kelane!"
IGEN-> H'sen dies!
IGEN-> Lanisa rolls!
IGEN-> K'tel says, "We need the pictures to go with the names. ;)"
IGEN-> N'ren says, "I just make smartass remarks, K'tel. I'm not
graphically-inclined. ;)"
IGEN-> K'tel says, "Rats!"
IGEN-> Ileste congratulates from this window, because there can never be
too many congratulatings. :3
Kassima agrees, "I like Naara," while finishing up the tidying spree; it
doesn't make the Barracks so much neater, of course. "Beli, too. I've a
fondness for all of 'em. The sort that comes from hauling them out into the
desert and resisting all temptation t'get 'em eaten by sandwherries."
IgenW-LC> Josilina just flashes N'ren a smile - respectful? what? She's not
one to care, much. "Please do," she nods to K'tel - and N'ren, extending
the invitation to him to join them, if he so wishes. "Oh? Wait - what color
his dragon likes?" She scrunches her 'brow, confused, "Was H'sen expecting
a different color?" She glances at N'ren and wonders, "What'd you and
Kheveth think of the hatching? You two," and this time the 'two' means
K'tel and N'ren, "win any bets?"
T'nnusen's eyebrows go up a little at Kassima's statement, but he's making
no assumptions. /Done/ with that, thanks! "I believe you just did," the
blond replies to A'deth with a smile, his hand resting on top of Dusty's
head. The dragonet peers up at the senior dragonhealer from under that hand
with obvious curiousity.
IgenW-LC> Sunika polishes off her treat a bit faster than she'd thought --
perhaps she's just a bit more hungry than she anticipated -- and fusses a
bit with a convenient napkin. Her head ducks in a brief, respectful nod to
N'ren, "Well, I suppose it is better to have a headful of good memories
than nothing at all." Something about the words causes her smile to falter
and she shakes her head, moving to rise. "I probably ought to go," is
regretful-sounding, her head lowering again. "Thank you very much N'ren,
but I think I should go find S'lek."
IgenW-LC> K'tel folds himself energetically into a chair and raises his
glass, apparently about to make a salute. He pauses and lowers it to take a
drink at Josilina's comments, glancing at N'ren - and then Sunika. After
swallowing, he puts on his best innocent expression for Josilina, "Bets?"
He continues on to clarify, "Not the color of his dragon but what color his
dragon prefers. Just a discussion we had a few months ago."
IgenW-LC> N'ren, sitting with Sunika, is actually fairly close-by; they sat
when the party was still quite a bit more active, and there wasn't much of
a choice. But he certainly doesn't mind that. "Eh, I didn't make any bets
this time around." A shock there, since N'ren usually bet heavily on
hatchings, and he had a high winning percentage. Of course, he mostly gave
his marks to the Headwoman anyway, only taking what he needed when he
needed it. When his table partner speaks up, he pauses and turns back to
her, and says, "All right." He adds, "If you like, I can give you a ride
back, in case you cannot find him. Or I can ask Kheveth to bespeak Kannanth
for you?"
A'deth peers back down at the little blue, tilting his head slightly to the
side at an angle reminiscent of Jaelith's. "Congratulations, too,
Dustenyth. You suit your rider very well, I think. I'd wondered."
IgenW-LC> "Oh! If Kheveth would not mind doing so, it would be appreciated.
Just to let him know that I shall be in the bowl and waiting out there.
Some fresh air would be lovely right now." Sunika dips her head again,
hands folding before her in a demure gesture. Only after some kind of
confirmation is given will she depart, calling an amiable, "Do take care,
N'ren!" and then to head outside.
IgenW-LC> "And to you," N'ren says to Sunika, his eyes going glassy in that
way that indicates rider and dragon speaking to each other.
IgenW-LC> Josilina offers Sunika a smile and a wave, before the girl is
off, and she blinks at K'tel. "What color his dragon likes?" She glances at
N'ren, a sort of, 'do you get it?' "Does he, then? Lekath? Or do you not
know yet? I know I saw H'sen in here, earlier."
Kassima leaves the two to converse, making a round of the couches, checking
on dragonets and their Weyrlings who've turned in early.
IgenW-LC> K'tel is amused and swirls the wine in his glass as he considers
how to explain. Finally, "You remember those straps Zmeth wants now? Well,
that came about because H'sen wanted to know Zmeth's favorite color." He
gives Josilina a cheery wink, "And gold wasn't good enough for him."
IgenW-LC> N'ren lifts his shoulders and flops his hands out in the gesture
that easily means, 'I know as much as you do'. "Oh, and as for your other
question? Well, the truth is that I usually end up thinking the same thing
at every Hatching, and I suspect I'm not the only one. I watch the eggs
cracking, I watch the dragonets stumble around or make a straight line for
their riders, I watch the faces of the new dragonrider light up, and it
takes me back to my own Impression." A pause. "There is one decided
difference, of course. Ista's Sands are black. But other than that, it is
very nostalgic." He sighs. "There are only three of us left from my clutch,
and none of us are still at Ista, or even in the same Weyr. It's,
occasionally, kind of depressing, really."
IgenW-LC> Eostarra ambles out from the inner caverns.
IGEN-> Eostarra says, "Stop me if you've heard this one, but a resident
walks into a room full of riders... :)"
IgenW-LC> Lanisa returns from her kitchen run, a few drudges heading with
platters out into the bowl soon after. It's N'ren's last she arrives in
time to hear, "My clutchmates are all scattered about by now. Three of us
ended up here. A long way in, many ways, from Telgar."
IGEN-> Lanisa snickers ;)
IgenW-LC> "I know the feeling," Josilina responds to N'ren, quiet. "A bit,
at least. And nostalgia, sure - oh!" She brightens, latching on to K'tel's
words. "N'ren, you have to hear this - this straps thing, it's brilliant,"
she gushes with the enthusiasm of someone who has, perhaps, had a -smidge-
too much wine. Or too much time spent on hot sands. "Zmeth is clearly a
dragon of taste - gold can be too flashy. And doesn't take to hide well.
But - you both tell me what you think - I was thinking of doing a straps, I
don't know, fashion thing. Decorating thing. When the weyrlings are a bit
older. But everyone can do it."
IGEN-> N'ren says, "The immediate question is: "Who is the father?" Oh
wait... you haven't been here quite that long yet. ;)"
IgenW-LC> K'tel hmms softly, not as cheery after listening to N'ren. He
sighs softly while he listens to Lanisa then looks at Josilina and shakes
his head in amusement, brightening at once, "Zmeth is all for it, of
course." He chuckles, "H'sen may have started a Pern-wide trend."
IGEN-> Eostarra rimshots. Thnk you, I'm here all week. Try the wherry.
IGEN-> K'tel eeks! Not me. ;)
IgenW-LC> A'riste comes in from the Bowl.
IgenW-LC> N'ren blinks a couple of times. Decorative. Straps. Decorative
Straps. Uh-huh? "Er, well, my first thought would be what's the use?" A
pause. "But that mostly comes from being Weyrbred and living through the
Pass, when we didn't really have time for aesthetics. But I don't see why
not. I mean... I don't really get it, but well, no insult intended, but I
never really got the whole fashion thing. I mean, I'm good mostly with just
my clothes being functional." Which doesn't explain why he's got at least
three different sets of Gather clothes, and is, for that matter, wearing
his formal 'hide. Or why he's going to the Weaver Hall within the next
couple of days for a complete wardrobe update.
IGEN-> N'ren says, "Which is true, actually. I noticed most of my old
@desc's were old. So I'm sending N'ren to go have more made. (Which I
haven't really done since Opa was in charge of the Hall.)"
Dustenyth glances at his human and back again, and T'nnusen headtilts too.
"We both want to know what you mean by that," Tannu comments, amused. "His
color? I'm sure V'trel lost more than a few marks..."
IGEN-> Lanisa grins :)
IgenW-LC> K'tel is highly amused at N'ren's rather convoluted comment. He
chortles softly behind his glass.
IGEN-> K'tel says, "I should do that too. :) Fashion? Blah. At least the
weavers are one-stop shopping."
"I'd wondered if you might Impress green," A'deth chuckles quietly, after
fondly watching Kassima go. "But I wasn't certain. Blue suits you well
enough, I think. Dragons often see what we blind humans don't. But...
Dustenyth has eaten, but have you, now? Or you, Kassima?"
IgenW-LC> Eostarra comes staggering blearily out of the inner caverns,
looking half-asleep. Her inky black hair, normally tied back, is a tangled
mess. Someone just woke up, it seems. She offers a groggy but respectful
nod to the riders as she heads for the klah. She may even mumble a
greeting, but it isn't very loud. Or coherent.
IgenW-LC> Alleyana strides into the Living Caverns, glancing about once
sharply and then heading straight for the klah with a nod to those she
passes. "Functional is good," she comments at large. An attempt at
socializing?
IgenW-LC> Lanisa's lost her drink, somewhere along the way. Finished or set
down, either as likely as the other. She slips her hands into her pockets
and grins as she comes closer, "Most people like to have something nice.
And some dragons aren't much different. My weyrmate's blue would likely
love straps like that."
IgenW-LC> "Good taste," Josilina asserts again. At N'ren's words, her 'brow
furrows. "Because they're pretty," she insists. "That's the point. To be
more enjoyable. -Especially,-" she emphasizes, "since we're no longer in a
Pass. Or a comet." In a comet. Suffering a comet. Whichever. "And," she
adds, in her most Weyrwomanly tones, "it could help boost wing and Weyr
moral, to have something nice to look at. So, really, it's productive. I
mean, you," she picks the first victim she can find, poor, stumbling
Eostarra. "Wouldn't you like something to look at? And they're still
functional," picking up on Alleyana's comment. "Just pretty, too."
IGEN-> Josilina attempts to rally the Weyr to the cause of pink straps.
...I may need to go to sleep soon. ;)
IGEN-> A'deth approves of this proposition.
IGEN-> Lanisa fears the pink ;)
IgenW-LC> K'tel's brows go up as Josilina's tone changes and he keeps his
mouth shut. He does smile a greeting at Lanisa then offers one to Alleyana
as well. He gives N'ren a grin, changing his mind but still keeping his
tone quiet, "Because it's fun. Who needs a reason?"
IGEN-> K'tel says, "Perhaps Sirocco should do...Purple. Just to coordinate.
;) Wouldn't want everyone in Pink. How about just the queens' wing?"
IGEN-> Josilina grins. Color coordination by wing?
IgenW-LC> N'ren hms, "Well, if you're talking Wing morale, I'd suggest
making the colors the same across the Wing. It gives a sense of solidarity,
I'd think. Makes people feel more like a unit. With Thread gone except for
abnormalities like the comet, it might help with discipline too." He grins
at K'tel on the side. "Like I said, I don't see why not. I just don't get
it, myself, but I'm a product of how I grew up. Even after so long without
constant Thread, when you fly against it for fifty Turns..." He lets it
drop there.
IGEN-> Lanisa says, "Works for me ;)"
IGEN-> Josilina feels really, horribly bad for Neiravi after she graduates. ;)
IGEN-> N'ren becomes part of the mind-meld.
IGEN-> K'tel does this on his gui already. ;) Sirocco is purple, Sandstorm
pink, Golds gold, etc...
IgenW-LC> N'ren shrugs, "I guess there's comfort in continuity."
IgenW-LC> A'riste strolls in, gitar slung over his back. And peers about,
scanning face after face: clearly, he's looking for someone. "Fort's duties
to Igen and her Queen," he calls out in Josilina's general direction,
"...And to the new Weyrlings now, too." And, hearing N'ren's comments, he
shudders. "Fifty turns? Fifty of them? Why, that's remarkable. I'd just
die, of course, Keel over stone dead the first time I saw Thread. Shortest
career ever."
IgenW-LC> "...Would I have to make it?" is Eostarra's grumbled response to
the Weyrwoman' question. She, it seems, has her priorities. "If so, then
nuh-uh." She reaches for the klah, pouring some in her hazy, zombified
state. And a sweet roll. Yes. Klah and a sweet roll. Now, a seat. See?
Priorities. Direction. A purpose in life.
Kassima admits, turning away from a sprawled and snoring young greenrider,
"I haven't--I did scarf a meatroll for lunch. It should worry me all that
raw meat's starting t'look appetizing, shouldn't it."
IgenW-LC> N'ren smirks, "Oh yes, ha ha. Make fun of the old guy."
Truthfully, he's not more than what would be considered middle-aged on
Pern, even if he looks much older. "You get what I'm trying to say, though,
right?"
IgenW-LC> K'tel blinks, glancing between N'ren, Eostarra, and A'riste. He
finally decides discretion is the better part of valor and raises his glass
in greeting to A'riste, "Igen's duty to Fort." He then looks at N'ren and
sighs, "N'ren, I fought thread for many turns myself. It's a relief to have
something else to focus on. Colored straps, or no."
IgenW-LC> "Fun," Josilina agrees with K'tel, a little calmer as she
finishes her drink. She flicks a glance from rider to rider, those near the
table, and remarks, "I'm pretty sure most of us have flown Thread, if not
fifty Turns of it." It's quietly said, but and without respect. "Duties to
Fort," she calls back to A'riste, beckoning to invite the Fortian to join
them. "And I'm sure they'd - the weyrlings - thank you, were they probably
not all dead-asleep." Eostarra's grumped response earns a startled look,
and the Weyrwoman decides to not further push.
IgenW-LC> Lanisa tilts her head, seeming to listen to another voice before
she adds in, "Tisiath wants to formally request blue for Sandstorm. Leave
it to him to do so." She gives a chuckle and then shakes her head, offering
forth, "Igen's duties."
IgenW-LC> K'tel frowns Lanisa's way as she claims blue then nods to the
Weyrsecond, "Zmeth claims orange for Sirocco."
IgenW-LC> Eostarra sits at a nearby table, not imposing on the riders, but
close enough to converse should they desire to continue to do so -
grumpiness and all. After she downs nearly half her klah in one go, the
short young woman offers to Josilina, "My apologies, Ma'am, but having
worked an entire shift butchering as I always do, followed by a double
shift helping my foster mother in the kitchens, anything I would be
required to make repels me right now, no matter how pretty." She offers a
weak, tired smile as well.
IGEN-> K'tel says, "I had to get that in there quick. ;)"
IGEN-> Lanisa hehe :)
IgenW-LC> The Igen Hold Guard -- still in her uniform, no less -- looks
like she just unstrapped various weapons and handed them off before being
swept off to the weyr today. Which is exactly what happened! Alley's a
practical one, it's true. She takes one of the many klah /pots/, a clean
mug, and then a seat at one of the tables, where she can watch the
entrances, of course, pouring herself some nice, straight, un-sweetened
klah rather belatedly.
IgenW-LC> N'ren sighs. "Like I said, I don't see the *problem* with it.
It's just that it was beaten into my head that we didn't have time for
things like that that I have problems seeing otherwise. I'm not slighting
anyone else's fighting, not at all, just explaining where my thinking it
coming from."
IgenW-LC> "Astonishment at something I couldn't do isn't mockery, sir! I
accept my frivolity with... well, I suppose it isn't pride. Agreeable
resignation will have to do." A'riste grins at N'ren. He wanders over
toward the others, flashing a salute at them in lieu of a glass to raise.
"Why are we discussing obnoxiously-colored straps?"
"I haven't either," T'nnusen admits, "just as well with the nerves out
there." And he nods towards the sands.
IgenW-LC> N'ren points at K'tel for A'riste. "It's - apparently - his
fault." But are those his lips twitching to suppress a grin as he teases
the bronzerider?
IGEN-> N'ren says, "It goes like this. :) N'ren: Colored Straps? Huh. ||
N'ren's player: You need more than three sets of shoes? Why?"
IgenW-LC> K'tel was just reaching over to try to whack N'ren's shoulder to
try to cheer the man up a bit. At A'riste's words, he pauses mid-movement,
"Obnoxious!" He shakes his head, assuming a serious expression, "His taste
has been approved by the Weyrwoman. It can't be obnoxious." He grins over
at N'ren, "Thanks."
IgenW-LC> Josilina pats her trouser pockets for a writing tool that isn't
there. "Because our Weyr needs some," she answers A'riste promptly. "For -
" she glances at N'ren, "Wing soldarity." She nods firmly. "Oh, don't
worry. A long day's a long day," she flashes Eostarra a smile. "I
understand. You don't happen to have a pencil on you, though? I want to
make sure I remember. Sandstorm: blue," she points at Lanisa. "And Sirocco:
orange," K'tel. And she crinkles her nose when she states the color. "Is he
/sure/, orange?"
IGEN-> A'deth says, "TO match every outfit of course."
IGEN-> K'tel snickers, "Josilina! You just said he had good taste."
IgenW-LC> "Orange, hmm? Why not." Lanisa tells K'tel and then she grins
Josilina's way. "At least it won't mean orange for your wing, eh?"
IGEN-> Josilina may have to revoke that. Orange. C'mon. ;)
IGEN-> Kassima says, "Sirocco, orange? Our straps will be the color of
seduction?"
IGEN-> K'tel laughs, "It's what started it all."
IGEN-> K'tel says, "Orange is the color of seduction??"
IGEN-> Kassima says, "So I've been told!"
IGEN-> N'ren says, "I thought orange was one of Igen's colors anyway, right?"
IGEN-> K'tel says, "By who? Now I must know."
IGEN-> K'tel says, "That's yellow, N'ren. :)"
IGEN-> Kassima says, "Nope, black and yellow-gold. Orange is Ista. :)"
IGEN-> N'ren says, "Sorry. Yeah, brain fart. I guess that means that *ISTA*
is the Weyr of Seduction!"
IGEN-> K'tel says, "This is starting to sound familiar."
IGEN-> K'tel laughs!
IGEN-> N'ren says, "Huh. Let's not tell them that, okay?"
A'deth reaches for Kassima's elbow. "Let's go eat, then. You can all bask
in adulation. And wine. Lots of wine. Well, not for you, T'nnusen. Sobriety
and chastity, I know. And they say we riders are reprobates."
IGEN-> K'tel was just chatting with Kyrola today...
IGEN-> Kassima says, "I forget whether it was R'ehn's player or Lirra's who
told me first. Probably R'ehn's. And that's fitting, Ista's where you can
pick up all those scandalous diseases according to Kassi. ;) (Old joke
after a flirtatious Telgar bronzerider won a junior flight there. She
teased him about bringing home some scandalous Istan disease.)"
IgenW-LC> Eostarra smiles sheepishly and shakes her head. "Never been in
the habit of sleeping with a pencil on me. Sorry." Down goes the other half
of her drink, and up she goes to refill her mug. "Anyone need refills?" she
asks. Even after complaining of exhaustion from overworking, she is right
back at it.
IGEN-> N'ren says, "I was hoping it was Igen, because that would much more
fun to say: "Hey, come to Igen. We're the Seduction Weyr!" ;)"
IGEN-> Eostarra says, "Oh to be Mango."
IGEN-> N'ren says, "I'm not sure I even want to know what Mango represents..."
IGEN-> A'deth says, "...Do you like sand in your chaps? The blistering feel
of the desert wind at noon? Does this make you horny, baybee? Come to Igen.
We've got sand. We've got wind. We've got worms! You know you want us."
IgenW-LC> K'tel glances at N'ren at Josilina's question and asks him, "I
don't like the way she asked that. What do you think? I don't the whole
wing mad at Zmeth." He hears Eostarra and smiles at her, offering his wine
glass, and asks in a hopeful tone, "More red, please?"
IGEN-> N'ren says, "I might leave that part about worms out..."
IGEN-> K'tel icks at A'deth, "Now I want to go to Ista. ;)"
Kassima loops her arm through A'deth's, giving him a tired grin. "We don't
get t'bask in adulation," she informs him. "We have t'settle for terror and
dread. And wine! So, all told, we've still got the better end of the deal."
IgenW-LC> Alleyana produces a short stubby bit of pencil, or what passes
for it, and tosses it Josilina's way so that it skitters across the table
and clinks against whatever the goldrider is drinking, or whoever nearest
her is drinking. She keeps an eye on the entrances, but still grunts a
simple "It's practical enough," after taking a drink of klah.
IgenW-LC> A'riste just beams beatifically at K'tel. "Something can be
fashionably obnoxious." And to Eostarra, he inquires, "Klah, please? You
know, I've never had anyone offer to fetch me drinks before. Usually, I was
the one fetching. Such marvellous perks we have."
IGEN-> K'tel oohs, "Zmeth is just feeling seductive. That's the reason he
likes orange. ;)"
"I feel like I just ate," T'nnusen sighs, which /he/ of course didn't.
Dustenyth trails along with him to follow the other two out.
IGEN-> A'deth ^^
IgenW-LC> N'ren shrugs. "I'm ambivalent. Though you might want to consider
multiple colors. We band our firelizards using our Weyr color. Perhaps the
same should be used for these colored straps too. I'm not suggesting, say,
coloring our straps golden-yellow...." God, wouldn't THAT be a sight. A
full weyr of bronzes, browns, blues, and greens, all with golden straps.
"... but maybe combining it with the Wing colors. To represent Wing and
Weyr solidarity."
IgenW-LC> Eostarra swings by to take K'tel's glass. "Of course, Sir," she
replies.
A'deth laughs quietly at Kassima. And notes cheerfully to T'nnusen, "There
are exercises for that. Imagine drawing a heavy, quiet blanket over
yourself... Not enough to cut out the feeling of what's around you, but
enough to make it soft."
IgenW-LC> Josilina informs Lanisa: "There should be /no/ orange. Not at
Igen. We're above such things - oh." She considers her glass, glancing at
Eostarra, before shaking her head. "No, I shouldn't - I'm all set, thank
you." The pencil takes her by surprise, hitting the base of her glass.
"What - oh! Thank you," she glances for the source. Unsure, she repeats,
"Thank you."
IgenW-LC> K'tel blinks at Alleyana then at Eostarra's sir, frowning
slightly, "Just K'tel, please. Now /I/ feel old." He sighs, "I suppose the
weyrlings are going to start that all over again too." He eyes A'riste, "I
would never question Josilina's good taste." As if A'riste had. He just
shakes his head at N'ren, speaking at almost the same time as Josilina, "I
was thinking...green. Or maybe purple. That shouldn't be objectionable."
"'Twill take practice," Kassima chips in. "Don't overdo it, either. I knew
a man--he's the same one who resented his lifemate at first," she asides to
A'deth, more quietly. "He put so much effort into separating himself from
his dragon, neither of 'em were happy for it. But never mind that.
Tonight's for joy, and food, and little dragons in the Living Cavern."
IgenW-LC> "Just toss it back when you're done," Alley comments around her
klah, "I need it for... things." Does /that/ sound ominous coming from the
guard, or /what/?
Dustenyth trills cheerfully at that. Yeah!
IgenW-LC> Eostarra returns with K'tel's wine, flashing an apologetic smile.
"Sorry. Still in a work frame of mind. No more Sirs." To the Weyrwoman she
arches a dark brow. "You sure? I can get it, if you want."
A'deth walks through the tunnel and out to the Bowl.
You walk through the tunnel and out to the Bowl.
T'nnusen walks out from the Weyrling Barracks.
IGEN-> K'tel says, "What is the Pernese equivalent of 2 cents? ;)"
IGEN-> Kassima says, "A thirty-second, probably. ;)"
IGEN-> K'tel says, "Thanks. I can't do fractions this late at night."
IGEN-> K'tel says, "They should really go to the decimal system. ;)"
You head south to the main entrance.
IgenW-LC> A'riste grinds to a halt near Alleyana. "What things? Might they
be terribly bloody? I hate blood, you know." And to K'tel, he inquires,
"Was I? Should I grovel, then? Wouldn't want to insult anyone's taste on
our first meeting. Master Emmi would probably kill me for my lack of manners."
IGEN-> K'tel laughs, "Uh-oh, the reinforcements arrive."
You head into the Igen Weyr Living Cavern.
A'deth comes in from the Bowl.
IGEN-> A'deth says, "Now, to see how soon I mav."
IGEN-> Eostarra says, "But it's cute when A'deth shrieks like a girl!"
IGEN-> N'ren says, "Um, I'll have to go on the board as opposing that one.
I don't find it cute at all. ;)"
K'tel chuckles at A'riste's comeback, giving up on ribbing the Fort
bronzerider. He accepts the wine from Eostarra, "My thanks. And I do
appreciate that. I'm too old to have to feel old as well."
IGEN-> K'tel says, "Can I pass on having to hear that and judge cuteness? ;)"
Josilina shakes her head, "No, thank you," she says to Eostarra. "I should
be turning in soon, anyway. Lots to do tomorrow." She glances up at Alley
and nods, "Right - /purple/," she latches on to that word, even as she's
scribbling on a scrap of hide from her pocket. "Purple is good. Green, too.
Either of those would work. Is anyone here from Minstral?"
IGEN-> A'deth says, "N'ren doesn't like it when he makes me scream. ._. I
can't help it if I'm loud, honey."
IGEN-> K'tel says, "Mirage could be white. :)"
IGEN-> A'deth says, "That'd be pretty funny."
N'ren grins at K'tel, "Well, you were there when I told Kyrola that you're
only as old as you feel, right." A pause, and a smirk flits across his face
for a moment at an internal thought. "Just like a dragon can lift as much
as he or she thinks he or she can."
IGEN-> K'tel says, "Mistral could be gray."
IGEN-> Kassima says, "Mirage should be red. Then when the 'Lings got
bloodstains all over their clothes, it'd just be patriotic. ;)"
IGEN-> A'deth ^^
IGEN-> K'tel says, "Ick!"
IGEN-> K'tel says, "The queens should be red. ;) Since they won't be orange."
IGEN-> N'ren says, "Neh, it's not the whole loud thing. It's the *shriek*
thing. Screaming and yelling are fine. But shrieks give me headaches. :)"
IGEN-> A'deth says, "It's a good thing /I/ mostly just holler. ^^"
"You didn't hear him just say that," A'deth informs T'nnusen at N'ren's
last comment, having caught the tail end of it upon his arrival.
Eostarra dips her head at the Weyrwoman's assurance and smiles
sympathetically at K'tel. "You don't seem that old," she states. Off to get
her klah refill, now. She's much more awake, already, and the grumpiness is
fading.
T'nnusen sets Dustenyth to rights gently
Arm-in-arm with A'deth, Kassima has the look of what she is: a very tired
woman, but one satisfied with the world. She's uncharacteristically quiet,
too--maybe all those repetitions of 'chew, *chew*' left her hoarse.
"Neither did you," she tells Dustenyth. "Feast still going on?"
K'tel looks around at the other riders in the living cavern after
Josilina's question. He shakes his head, "I don't see any at the moment."
He offers, "Would gray work? 'Mist'-ral?" He nods sagely to N'ren,
"Exactly." He positively beams at Eostarra's comment then turns his head to
look at T'nnusen, A'deth, and Kassima, again raising his now-refilled
wineglass in greeting.
"Of course not," T'nnusen answers for both him and the almost-black
dragonet that trails in with him, already less clumsy for the walk here!
IGEN-> K'tel says, "He needs white straps to be visible at night. ;)"
N'ren grins toothily at A'deth, but doesn't say anything about it. He does,
however, get up, picking up his dishes and taking them to where they can be
dealt with properly. "I think that I should head up to my weyr. I have
early-morning Watch."
IGEN-> N'ren says, "Yep, the Spam Headache, it has arrived. :)"
IGEN-> K'tel snugs N'ren, "Good luck. My break earlier helped mine. ;)"
Eostarra pours a second mug of klah along with her own - this one she hand
delivers to A'riste. "Sir," she murmurs as she holds it out to him.
IGEN-> Kassima has floated past spam headache and on into 'fire bad, tree
pretty.' ;)
IGEN-> N'ren gives points to Kassima for the Buffy the Vampire Slayer
reference. Yay! (I'm also reading a BtVS fanfic while here.)
"Bloody? Probably not." Alleyana replies to A'riste, though that 'probably'
is with a lift of an eyebrow. Very probably, perhaps. At Tannu's entrance,
she gets to her feet and prowls his way, quite openly eying the new...
addition.
"Aah! Thank you. But don't sir me. You're barely, what, two, three Turns
younger than me?" A'riste blinks in dismay at Eostarra. "What's your name?
And--" And then he spies Tannusen. "Congratulations! You cost me a mark!"
And then Alley moves the Weyrling's way, and he stays well out of hers.
IGEN-> Eostarra says, "Kassima: Tell me about the rabbits again, A'deth!"
A'deth's smile for N'ren is faint, but genuine. "Don't say it to any of the
others until they've graduated, either, my dear, or I swear I'll flirt
shamelessly with you -- my apologies, Kassima, you understand that it's
just for torment's sake -- and do absolutely /scandalous/ things to your
reputation."
Josilina bestows a suspicious look upon K'tel, "Gray? Absolutely not." She
shoots him another wary glance, before setting the pencil down and rolling
it back the guard's way. "I'm for turning in, I think. And making sure my
son hasn't eaten his weight in pie." She tips an imaginary hat to her
assorted companions, "Have a lovely evening, all. And do send me a note if
you come up with any more ideas for straps." Hastily: "Not gray ones. No
offense, K'tel, but it's not /really/ a color, is it?" She doesn't really
wait for a response before heading for the stairs.
Josilina climbs up the stairway onto the balcony.
IGEN-> A'deth says, "I think we'll both be like that before the week's out.
XD"
"Tch," N'ren says with an easy grin. "If you think you're the first
greenrider to flirt with me, you've *really* got another think coming."
N'ren, for all that he is heterosexual, IS Weyrbred, after all. He turns
and heads towards the entrance, stopping by the new Weyrling.
"Congratulations, T'nnusen. Welcome to the shovel brigade." Then he begins
to mosey out.
Eostarra arches a 'brow up at A'riste - he of the non-existent attention
span. "Eostarra," she answers his question. "And...?" She sips her klah,
waiting to see if he remembers.
Kassima mentions drolly to A'deth, "I'm nay sure you can do aught more
scandalous t'N'ren's reputation than he's done himself. 'Twill be over
here, stealing all the wine and weeping into it because m'weyrmate prefers
brownriders." The weeping is a jest, but the stealing, from how she slips
through the remainder of the party to the wine table and picks out two of
the best 'skins, is not. She waves to the room at large but her focus is on
sweet, sweet booze.
K'tel looks rather alarmed at Josilina's suspicious look and quick exit. He
looks around, asking everyone - or no one - in general, "What's wrong with
gray?" To himself, before a quick swallow of wine, "I really shouldn't get
into these discussions." He decides it's much more fun to look over the
newest blue.
IGEN-> Josilina's rapidly losing any coherency at all. I need to sleep.
Thanks for a great evening, Igen! Take care :)
IGEN-> K'tel says, "Good night! :)"
"...Do I dare ask /what/ you were betting on?" T'nnusen asks, raising both
of /his/ eyebrows. "I'm pretty sure I cost V'trel some too, he had me
pegged for green." Dustenyth meanwhile finds himself being scrutinized! By
the drill sergeant herself! But he doesn't know how he's supposed to stand
and stuff yet and he can't salute because that would look /really/ silly
and--! "Thanks!" Tannu adds to various folks, and beams a greeting at Alley
as well.
IGEN-> Kassima says, "Zhai, Josilina! Good work on the Hatching; it turned
out so lovely. :)"
IGEN-> Eostarra says, "Night!"
"Many they may be, but none of them are me," A'deth states comfortably to
N'ren as the brownrider departs. "They probably didn't know the thing with
the tongue, either." And to Kassi, he calls, "Find me some white, please,
beloved? A few skins. I'm going to need to fortify myself against all this
virtue."
"Don't worry, Kassima," N'ren says, over his shoulder. "If he gets too bad
at it, I'll let you know so you can show him how it's *really* done." And,
in the meantime, have yet another lovely greenrider flirting with him.
Score! With that, the brownrider quits the cavern for the bowl.
N'ren walks out to the Bowl.
Alleyana shoots A'deth what may be the most mildest of amused glances
before resuming her inspection of the poor little dragonet. She circles
both weyrling and blue, and then crouches down in front of Dustenyth and
murmurs something to him, privately. Some things should be said at a first
meeting, but aren't always for public consumption.
A'riste's head swings right back toward Eostarra. "A'riste," he chirps
quite warmly. "Nice to meet you." And back to Tannusen: "Bronze! I'd hoped
we could pretend to be twins. Right out of some overwrought song, of
course. But--" And he considers Dustenyth, "I think he suits you better."
K'tel ignores N'ren, Kassima's and A'deth's byplay like the holdbred
bronzerider he is. He stands, taking his wineglass, and walks over to offer
T'nnusen and Dustenyth his congratulations, "A fine pairing.
Congratulations." He nods to A'riste and Eostarra, giving Kassima, A'deth,
Alleyana, and Lanisa a wave, "N'ren's right. We've duty early in the
morning. Night, all."
Kassima's mouth quirks wryly. "I probably shouldn't admit I can't flirt
t'save m'soul, can I. Unless he's thinking swoonings and lash-flutterings
and horribly overdone exclamations of his studliness designed t'make
passers-by choke on laughter 'til they died; I used t'be good at that. Out
of practice now," she sighs, and adds three 'skins of white to her growing
armful. Laden with alcohol she heads for a table with a definite spring in
her step that wasn't there before. "G'night, K'tel! May the orange flowers
nay haunt you in your sleep."
Eostarra nods politely. "A'riste, then," she corrects herself. She sighs
softly and shrugs, then returns to her seat at last, sipping her klah.
K'tel gets a smile and a wave as he goes.
K'tel shoots Kassima a cheerful glare then chuckles, already most of the
way to the bowl.
K'tel walks out to the Bowl.
"He hasn't been around you long enough if he doesn't know you're not that
kind of girl," A'deth sniffs to Kassi. "How old is he now, anyway? Three
hundred and fifty seven and two thirds? Must be the senility." He waves
after K'tel, too. "What are you, a Weyrling? Don't talk to me about duty,
I'll have to lecture often enough about it to make myself sick... shards,
he's already gone." His tone, fortunately, holds no rancor, only amusement.
"Everyone keeps saying that," T'nnusen chuckles, "I'm not sure I'm seeing
what everyone else is seeing. He's very..." the blond trails off
distracted, then comments to Alley, "...He says he'll try his best, of
course." And he waves to the departing.
IGEN-> T'nnusen belatedly turns the channel back on. Phew x.X
IGEN-> K'tel grins, "Just in time. Night, all! Don't have too much fun in
there." ;)
IGEN-> Kassima says, "Now that you're gone, K'tel, I'm sure the
tabledancing will start. Life's evil that way. ;)"
A'riste peers after Eostarra. And then looks back to Tannu. "...Very what?"
IGEN-> K'tel facepalms, "Figures!"
IGEN-> A'deth beams.
"We both rode a time at Benden and Telgar," Kassima reminisces, pulling a
chair out in invitation for A'deth to join her and her liquor. "But
remembering me from then wouldn't mean remembering me flirty. ...D'you
know, they really do look alike." She nods at T'nnusen and A'riste.
Slumping comfortably in her chosen seat, she opens a 'skin of Red and...
oh, dear, she forgot glasses. She considers the 'skin, the long walk back
to the table. The 'skin... the walk... ugh, decisions.
IGEN-> Lanisa gets back to her kb and finds she's too beat to pick up
again. Sorry all :)
Lanisa climbs up the stairway onto the balcony.
Eostarra is oblivious to A'riste's peering, distracted as she is by her
klah. Must. Stay. Awake.
A'deth moves to join his weyrmate, flashing a bland smile at A'riste in
passing. "Indeed. I'd wondered for a while." He sits down beside Kassima,
and puts his feet up on the table with a very faint sigh. "Drink out of the
skin, my dear. Tomorrow's for manners, tonight's for joy."
"Ah, you know." Tannu gestures vaguely at his dragonet, who is now chirring
quietly at Alleyana and getting head-scritches from the weather-beaten
guard. "--Dark? Pretty? I don't know why everyone keeps looking at us and
deciding it suits. Though I think bronze would have... ah--" and he shrugs,
"involved chasing too many girls."
Never that unhappy to take up such an excuse, Kassi drinks down a hearty
pull from the wineskin, and leans to bestow a lingering kiss on her
weyrmate after. Everyone's attention's on the little dragon after all,
right? Or the depths of klah as the case may be. "For joy's sake," she says
with a grin. "Come t'think on it, I've reason t'be joyous. I made a pretty
pile of marks today."
A'riste eyes Kassima and A'deth, and shudders eloquently. And then he turns
back toward Tannu. "That's what's expected, anyway." And he considers
Dustenyth, and then looks back to his human half, and opines, "You should
be the one with the gitar. You'd both look more the part. How's the
flute-playing coming along?"
"Ah?" T'nnusen, currently /easily/ distracted by whatever horribly cute
things are being said in his head -- and it could be /deliberately/
overly-cute, even now; not all kids are dumb! -- is taken a bit by surprise
at the question. "Why would I look more the part? I really don't get it...
and it's coming along, I guess." And Tannu sighs, thinking about it, "not
that I'm going to be able to meet the weyrharper for lessons now."
"How man-- mmph." A'deth fairly liquefies in his chair. But he straightens
up at Tannu's remark, and tilts his head at he, and then Kassima. "Not for
the next few sevendays, certainly-- no time. But after...?"
Kassima, smug, reclines back into her own and takes another drink of wine.
Maybe she can't flirt--but she can liquify. "When he has free time," she
decides after studying T'nnusen herself, "whenever that may be--he can
spend it that way if'n he wishes, a'course. I'm curious too, A'riste! What
makes him look like a gitarist?"
A'riste consider them, his head cocking at an angle that's vaguely
reminiscent of his uncle. "Well, he looks like me, and I'm the epitome of
Harper magnificence," he states quite reasonably. "And his dragon's blue,
so he's Harper colored, too. /And/ he plays an instrument. He could make
his hair a little wilder, I'm sure. Lift his chin up a little more." He
raises his own to demonstrate, hands on his hips to strike a nobly fabulous
pose.
"Of course you are," T'nnusen chuckles, and nudges Dustenyth with his hip.
The dark blue is all but jellified under Alley's scritching by now!
Liquified hatchling or not, the guard finally does stand back up. And
drinks down her klah, because Alley didn't walk across the room without it
in hand, of course. What kind of guard do you think she /is/?
A'deth nods appreciatively to Kassima, and then looks back to T'nnusen.
"Well, then, lad. There's your answer: You'll not have to give up some of
your dreams just because others have been realised."
Kassima eyes nobly fabulous A'riste... and then she eyes A'deth.
"Grand-nephew. Those are some *sharding* pervasive genes." Just the sort of
thing A'riste is sure to enjoy hearing, isn't it? An agreeable enough nod
does the job of seconding A'deth.
A'riste rolls his eyes, and turns his back on the pair, facing Tannusen.
"Was that your sister?" he inquires, speaking about /relatives/. Hrmph.
"She can't be your girlfriend." Said grand-uncle, meanwhile, suddenly finds
great interest in that wineskin. Chug!
"I didn't dream of dragons," T'nnusen protests, but it's weak even if it's
true. Like anyone would say no to Dusty here! "Or I did, but that only
started recently." But A'riste's addition has his eyebrows going up, and a
look at Alley. Oh dear. "--Ah, sister," he replies belatedly, as though
that's going to save the other boy!
Alley just turns towards the other blond and raises an eyebrow. Just one,
just like that. And stares. Excuse me?
A'deth just keeps drinking, for some reason. His nephew, however, looks
back at Alleyana. ...Gulp. "Hi. Am I a dead man now?"
Kassima doesn't notice anything untoward about A'deth's absorption in his
wine; when is A'deth not absorbed in his wine? "We can't be hungover in the
morning," she murmurs, openly mourning the fact. "Or the next morning. Or
the next. Or the... probably, A'riste. D'you want t'be buried or dropped in
the ocean?"
T'nnusen's stomach suddenly reminds him that /he/ didn't eat, even though
Dustenyth did! And he takes the opportunity to go find himself a plate of
food, the wise-for-his-hours dragonet trotting along with. Nothing to see
here!
Alley's eyebrow raises a little further, the rest of her expression
unchanging. It's a possibility.
A'riste folds his arms and hrmphs! "I scream really loudly. A /lot/. Like
murdering felines. I'm really bad at dying, you know."
"Another thing you have in common," Kassi mutters more for A'deth's ears
than A'riste's--there's that much mercy. "You'd protect him, wouldn't you?
If'n you let blood kin get slaughtered in front of you I warn 'twill think
at least five minutes about making you sleep in the couch."
A'deth sets the skin down. "He should learn to appreciate violent women,"
is all that he remarks, casually cheerful.
T'nnusen is completely uninvolved! Just getting food here, that's all! And
taking a seat on the /other/ side of the table from his half-sister, just
in case, though he doesn't seem all /that/ worried. Neither does the
dragonet who follows along in his wake, sniffing questioningly at the food
his human is carrying. That doesn't smell like herdbeast!
Alley shoots the spectators what might be an amused glance, only it can't
be, can it? On /her/? And then rolls her dark blue eyes at A'riste. "I seem
to be all out of pencils with which to commit bloodshed," she remarks, so
dry that you just can't be /sure/ if she's kidding or not.
"It'd be a pretty unfair fight, anyway," A'riste grouses. "They've taught
me how to use a knife, but I can't use that on a woman who can kill a man
with a bare pencil. You'd have me twisted inside out before I could do more
than draw, I'm sure. And then you'd draw on my kidneys!" Right then, a big
bronze head peers in from the Bowl, about all that'll fit, and even then.
Valioth looks Alley over quite closely: just keeping an eye on things, is all.
Kassima beams at A'deth, so she must approve of this sentiment, and turns
her eyes back on the tableau: "Being killed by a pencil lacks dignity.
You'd die of the shame more'n aught. But you couldn't use a pencil t'draw
on kidneys! The point would just slide around, or sink into the meat,
squish, and that's nay so much drawing as 'tis mutilating, and I'm going
t'stop thinking about this a'fore I borrow a kidney from the carcasses
tomorrow t'try it out."
"Violent women," A'deth sighs happily. "Faranth bless 'em."
Alleyana headtilts up at the bronze dragon, hands on her hips. Yes? You
too, then? And she comments to Kassima without looking over, "I'm fairly
sure you'd have to dry it first, and then use ink." Yep.
Valioth is much less intimidatable than his rider; the look he levels on
Alley's about the same as she's given him. But he rumbles a pleasant
greeting anyway, with a softer croon for that tiny dark blue. A'riste just
shudders, this one even more expressive than the first.
"Any sharp pen would carve it too. You'd need," Kassima decides, "a
paintbrush. The question is what you'd draw on a kidney." She pauses to
raise her wineskin in toast to Valioth. The soft croon reminds her that
there's a tiny dragon present; all Dustenyth's sniffings make her melt a
little inside, and her merry drinking doesn't quite hide that.
Dustenyth is given scritching, but no weird cooked food for his
just-newly-hatched stomach! He seems fairly content with this, and sets his
head on T'nnusen's lap, crooning back at the -- very very big! -- bronze.
Alley smirks, very faintly, up at Valioth where the other humans -- other
than maybe A'riste /through/ Valioth! -- can't see it. When she turns back
to the rest her expression is flat again, and she carries her klah over to
sit across from Tannu.
A'riste's expression mellows a bit-- was he playing up his apparent fear?
In a softer tone, he says, "But, truly... congratulations, T'nnusen. I
think that this is all for the best... I didn't know that about myself, but
I think it'll be easier on you, in the end." And he reaches for his own mug
of klah, and lifts it. "To youth," he declares in a ringing tone, with not
a hint of shrillness. "And to maturity. To new beginnings, and the
continuation of our hallowed traditions. To the newest members of our
brotherhood, to those who will guide them in their glorious footsteps, and
to those whom we will endeavor to protect!" (And even A'deth must raise the
wineskin to that, too.)
Enjoying the byplay though she is, Kassima picks up her second skin of wine
and reluctantly stands. "I should put a plate of food together and take it
with me on a last check of the Barracks." She murmurs something further to
A'deth alone that's too soft to carry beyond their table. Naturally she
puts such plans on hold to lift her 'skin and drink; to those who will
guide, perhaps not; to all else, yes, with enthusiasm.
Alley just drinks her klah; whether it's joining in or not is left up to
the imagination.
T'nnusen doesn't have anything at hand to join in /with/, but Dustenyth
gives a trill for the both of them!
A'deth senses Kassima suggests softly, "There's a little cave nay far from
the Barracks, d'you ken, where I slept sometimes when I assisted... nay the
fanciest quarters, but. Tonight's for joy?" A smile plays on the side of
her mouth turned away from the rest of the room--so maybe they can't drink
to excess. There's more kinds of joy than one.
A'deth rises. "I'll join you in a moment," he says quietly to her, with a
little smile. "Before I'm too in my cups to be of much more use."
IGEN-> Kassima, soooo tired, poses out (though may watch another round or
two) and snugs you all.
"Hah. You've never yet managed t'get that drunk," Kassima scoffs, amusement
clear in her voice even if the words themselves are quiet too. "'Twill see
you then. Lessons start tomorrow, T'nnusen; don't forget and feast too
late--good t'see you again, A'riste, Alleyana." It doesn't take long to
pile together a plate of feast victuals. Longer to figure out how to
balance it and two wineskins on her way to the Bowl, but she manages.
"G'night!"
You walk out into the Bowl.