The logs collected of Jeyth and Raeklith's Clutch in Winter 2009!
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This is a log of all twelve dragon egg descriptions.
Coming soon!
Jeyth heads out onto the sands and presents Ista Weyr with a clutch of 12 eggs.
6/20/2010
07:21 PM
Logfile from Pippa.
Hatching Grounds
The heat here is stifling, encompassing, swallowing mind and hazing sight into waved oblivion. Sparkling, coarse black sand simmers with volcanic urgency underfoot, its hillocks and dunes arranged to queen's liking; reflected light filters in, offered not even perceived respite. When empty, the vault of this cavern is hushed, still that echoes and rebounds; when occupied, it is intensified.
Gold Jeyth is here.
Obvious exits:
Entrance
From the galleries, Tilla strolls up the stairs.
From the galleries, Malachai skitters up the stairs.
From the galleries, Daegan walks up the stairs.
From the galleries, Malachai has disconnected.
From the galleries, Zilurana runs up the stairs.
On a ledge above, Phthongoth lands neatly, and furls his wings.
From the galleries, Tahira walks up the stairs.
Jeyth wanders about the dark sands of the hatching grounds, grumping and rumbling notes in derision to the basket-fillers quickly trying to set light to the large chamber. "They don't mean nothing," Pippa lifts her voice, not exactly the most soothing of timbres to stand just shy of the thick sands. Jeyth makes another round, a foreclaw flicking a left-over shard from a previous clutch, sending it sailing high and towards the galleries. Duck!
From the galleries, Risya walks up the stairs.
From the galleries, Mordecai sways up the stairs.
From the galleries, Eilem strolls briskly up the stairs.
From the galleries, Daegan blinks a bit at the shard piece being flung as he pads up the stairs and he does duck to avoid getting hit as he tries to find a spot where he can watch without being in the way. "High Reaches duties to Ista and her queens he mutters politely before he settles down on a bench.
From the galleries, Zilurana follows behind a journeyman as he climbs the stairs, "Duck, Zil, looks like Jeyth isn't happy with leftovers on the sands," Zilurana snorts, and steps aside.
From the galleries, Wherever there's an event, there will be Bakers, and the Bakers of Ista Weyr have turned out in force to provide food and beverage to the gathering crowds here to watch the clutching. Among them is a curly haired teen in a calf-length skirt and a simple white top, holding a tray in her hands as she walks among the gathered folks. "Cheese and crackers," Sienna's offering to people. "If you like it, I'm selling gift baskets after the clutching, out in the bowl." Might as well try and turn a profit on the clutching, right?
Raeklith soars in, landing on the edge of the grounds and dropping off his rider before wandering further out and examining the black sand. He hasn't seen it since his own hatching and he wasn't exactly of a mind to get a good look back then. There is an urge to dig, claws taking a few tentative swipes before I'no pipes up as he heads over towards Pippa. "No pits! Don't you dare Raek!"
From the galleries, Tahira clamors up the steps, moving towards a bench that's not quite packed yet. There's a keen curiosity in her gaze but aside from that she's silent for the moment, perhaps she has not often attended such a hatching.
From the galleries, Mordecai frowns, blinks, and sidles as far away from the balcony as he can possibly get. Apparently, the gold wants to try and kill people. Clutchings are dangerous things, yes they are. Spotting Daegan, he heads that way, nervously skirting people, strange people.
Pippa turns her head about to look towards I'no as he arrives, with Raeklith as well. A smile quirks upon the woman's lips, nodding her head to him. "Hey, kid. Ever see a clutching?" Funny thing to ask the clutchdad, isn't it? But fitting.
From the galleries, Tilla wanders up the stairs of the galleries, not fresh from between but fresh from a swim. Her dripping copper locks are piled atop her head and she has a towel draped over her shoulders. A long sarong is draped over the bottom half of her midnight blue two piece, and she's carrying a flagon of something from the Sandbar. Flopping down on an aisle seat near the dead center of the galleries, she relaxes, looking about for people she knows. Oh, there's two, she waves enthusiastically down at the sands, "Pippa, I'no, hiiiiii!" she yells out.
The first egg is always the most anticipated, the one with a fitting pregnant pause before finally being offered onto the sands. Jeyth grouses, ignoring Raeklith for the most part, looking uncomfortable, moving about in a circle, and again with her long tail trailing behind and feet pushing at the dark sand. Eventually, she settles, and effort produces the first one.
Creeping Towards Convocation Egg
This egg's shell is patterned with a lazy scattering of off-white rectangles; some bare squiggles of black, indecipherable. Perhaps, with enough time and study, one might find the key to unlock their secrets but— no. Too much effort. Most, however, are blank: here, a sloppy stacking, there, a careless tumble. From the egg's base, struggling desperately to be made out from beneath the piles, there is the occasional glimpse of something more sturdy: blue, brown, patterned grey, larger rectangles that may hold answers — but buried, ignored.
From the galleries, Daegan grins a bit as he catches sight of Mordecai, a nod towards Sienna at her offer as he slides over a little to give Mordecai a place to sit, a faint ahhh coming from him as he sees the first egg being depositing on the sand by the queen, "Hey hey Mord, how as your day?" he asks as he looks at his friend a moment before his eyes drift back to the sands.
I'no still has a terrible tendency to blush in Pippa's presence as he fidgets, running a hand through his head of sunny hair. "I saw the eggs that the other queen from the 'Reaches left. But I didn't watch her do it." The call of his name takes his attention towards the stands where he sees a vaguely familiar face, giving Tilla a wave in return before turning back towards Jeyth hard at work. "Oh there's the first. Wow, that didn't take long." Raeklith rumbles in curiosity, shuffling up closer to the queen and the first of their progeny.
From the galleries, Eilem sits atop the railing of one of the higher gallery levels, his booted feet hanging over the side and one hand lightly steadying himself against the stone surface; falling would be embarrassing, after all. It'd be terrible. People would laugh. The Trader spots someone he knows, however, and leans forwards to wave to Tahira when she enters. He freezes in mid wave, a smell of something delicious tickling his nose until …. ah! There it is. Eilem leans out further, hanging precariously off the ledge, and taps Sienna on the shoulder as she passes beneath him.
From the galleries, Risya makes her way up the stairs, stumbling a bit on the top stair due to apparently expecting another step, if her raised foot was anything to go by. After making sure her feet are stable, the rider makes her way towards the benches, finding a place to perch.
From the galleries, Mordecai settles quietly in next to Daegan. "Long and full of pins and needles." Literally. "So that's how that whole egg business happens. I'd wondered." He rests his shoulder briefly against Daegan's, grinning with mischief. "I wonder if she'll be as relieved as my mother always was. When it's all over."
From the galleries, Sienna bends a bit at the waist to offer the tray to Daegan and Mordecai, her smile bright. "Cheese and crackers," she says. "Simple fresh made caprine cheese on fresh-baked buttery crackers. Help yourself." She jumps when Eilem touches her shoulder, turning her head sharply to peer up at him. Then her bright smile returns and she holds up the tray. "Here you are, handsome. Don't fall."
From the galleries, Zilurana largely ignores the mumblings of the journeyman as she quickly sketches lines here and there on a hide. If one were to watch over her shoulder, the likeness of the just deposited egg can be seen. Below the egg is a space for a brief description, a slow blink to the journeyman and the young woman is back to watching the sands set to sketch the next egg that is clutched, "Make sure to add a description, Zils," a glare is given to the sketch instead of the journeyman.
Pippa shakes her head to I'no, her grin widening to the teen. "Aye, it'll be pretty quick. She tends to try to clutch at night, away from all of the lookie-loos, but no chance this time. So she'll probably be fast -unlike the flight." At her voice being hollared, and subsequently echoing through the chamber, she looks to the galleries. Squinting, and then noticing a wave goes out to Tilla.
From the galleries, Tahira catches the edge of Eilem's wave, or perhaps she notes the person harassing the Baker before she can. Rising to her feet she moves upwards in the galleries, squeezing her way back to find a seat in speaking range of Eilem. "Figured I'd see one of these clutchings finally, do they last a long time?"
Her privacy shattered by the arrival of onlookers into the galleries, Jeyth sniffs a derisive note, more of slight annoyance than anything else. If only there were more egg shards that were easily within a claw-flick to send gallery-wards. But something a bit more pressing garners her attention, labouring another egg, grey upon the dark sands.
A Vote For Vegetarianism Egg
Across a plane of matte grey only the subtle shift of shadows varies the orb from stem to stern, but speckling the surface are long ovoids stained in violet. Tubular lengths are striated with fainter shades and darker blotches within the core. Feelers like shredded wheat cascade away from each in long tendrils, reaching out towards other clusters, like sickly pink fingers digging themselves into the brain matter beneath.
From the galleries, Daegan laughs softly and he shrugs a bit, "Makes me awful glad to be male, when you see the effort that goes into bearing young. My Ma always swore each time that she wouldn't have more, she had enough mouths to feed, but there was always a new sibling on the way until the healers said she was too old to risk having more." he says quietly, head tilting a bit at the newest egg laid, "Wow, never saw violet in quite that combination of colors before."
From the galleries, Tilla grins back at Pippa and then takes a long swig of her alcoholic beverage as she contemplates the eggs being laid out. She remarks, to no one in particular, "They look….very interesting. So many different patterns." Of course she's seen her share of patterned eggs, especially from the last Reachian clutch. "That one looks like..almost like its been splattered with.." She's not sure.
What a flight it was, the parts of it that I'no could recall that is. "That seemed to last forever." he just says quietly, glad that the dim lighting of the grounds makes it hard to see his discomfiture. He'll just keep his eyes on the eggs being laid. "How many do you think there'll be? Jeyth doesn't look… that big." Like he would know if that was normal or not?
From the galleries, Mordecai peers. "Wow. That's… certainly a new take on it." He looks over his shoulder at Daegan, lips a-twitch with repressed laughter. "I think mine just liked being able to scream at the males without any chance of disapproval." But back to those eggs. "Whatin'ell… such odd colors. Whatcha bet some Hold girl'll want something violently violet?"
From the galleries, Again a quick series of lines on the hide in Zilurana's lap produces a likeness of another egg, "Oh, I'm going to be sick," and the journeyman is running for the exit. Zilurna snorts and continues to lay in lines until she's satisfied that she's caught the likeness accurately with space for a description later.
From the galleries, Eilem flashes the baker a grin, doing his best to keep the concentration off his face as he peers at the offered comestibles with as much nonchalance as he can muster. With a satisfied nod he reaches back to deftly produces a mark from his pocket and place it on the platter, picking up a cracker in exchange and giving the Sienna another little smile. Errand complete, he quickly hoists himself back up to safety, settling back on the railing and taking a bite of his hard-earned snack. "Iunno, normy ousn'n ake AUW at woo" He coughs, and swallows, then shrugs down at Tahira properly. "I dunno. Normally doesn't take ALL that long. Some times they have trouble, though, and it takes'em a bit. Usually not a good sign."
"Well, if you don't look at her arse, she isn't." See, Pippa is safe in muttering that because her lifemate is otherwise busy providing Pern with its salvation. "It won't be big, like when there was Thread. Pretty small. And ain't for trying, but your Raeklith is a young bugger. Not yet into his prime, and for that matter Jeyth isn't quite there either. If we get over fifteen, slap me silly and color me shocked."
From the galleries, Sienna giggles softly, picking up the mark and twirling it between her fingers. "The /samples/ are free," she points out to Eilem, flicking the wooden disc up to the trader again. "If you want to pay for it, see me in the bowl afterwards." With a wink she turns and saunters off down the aisle, passing out more food to those who flag her down. Occasionally her mahogany eyes flick curiously to the sands, but her purpose in being here is to tend to the crowd, not to gawk.
From the galleries, Daegan wrinkles up his nose a bit, "More than likely, though hopefully they don't combine it with puce or pink." he says with a shudder before offering Mordecai a flask he brought with him, tucked in a pouch, "Got some cider here if you want a drink." he says as he continues to watch the sands with interest, head turning to observe the others in the galleries every once in a while in curiousity. "I've never actually gotten to attend a clutching, so this is all rather facinating."
Jeyth turns her head towards Raeklith following the dropping of her last egg. It is one of those looks -You Did This To Me- This time, just maybe, her sniff of derision might just have a little bit more disgust behind it. But she is now well into her clutching, and in rapid succession two eggs arrive on the hatching sands.
A Plague Upon You Egg
Black pustules erupt across the pale, fleshy expanse of this egg, curving from apex to base and growing larger with each successive downwards spiral. No mere pinpricks of ebon are these blighted blotches, but rather they range from a splash of midnight freckles to an explosive, angry expanse of boiling pitch along the bottom curve of the shell. Beneath the blight of blisters, the fleshy shell has a slightly greenish cast, as though rotting slowly from within. Though the surface is smooth, only lightly pitted in the manner of eggs, shadows and shading suggests lumps and bumps where none truly exist.
Pox Upon Me Egg
This egg, while perfectly formed, is covered with tiny round pit-marks. There is no rhyme or reason to the pattern, and each is outlined in a slightly red color, as if irritated. Thankfully, if these marks are sores, or the remains of sores, the Sands keep them dry enough that they don't ooze. Ah, if only there were hands to scratch.
From the galleries, Taliesin walks up the stairs.
From the galleries, Mordecai snorts. "Been known to happen a time or two." He turns back as two more eggs appear. "Never seen one, either. It's… " Not something he can really explain, the sight of so many rather oddly colored things in his life. "Wow. Look at that one." He indicates the Plague Upon You egg. "Now that is unusual." To put it politely. The fleeing Journeyman is given a little sniff of disdain. Not exactly surgery, there. Why so sensitive?
From the galleries, Zilurana quick, efficient strokes and two more eggs are drawn. A glance is spared towards the opening to the Hatching grounds, "Serves him right," Zilurana mutters. She blinks again, then goes back to watching the proceedings on the sands.
From the galleries, Narcissa glides up the stairs.
Raeklith still has a puppy like demeanor, tail lashing back and forth with a bit more excitement as more eggs appear. Jeyth's glare doesn't seem to dampen his enthusiasm one bit though as he follows her, careful not to trod upon those eggs. Instincts kick in as he sniffs at the nearest one, then with a nudge of his nose he pushes more sand gingerly up against it. I'no watches with a bit of a grin at the bronze's antics before nodding back at Pippa. "Not a whole lot, I remember being told that would happen during weyrlinghood." Not that he expected to be clutchdad so soon. "They look… interesting though."
From the galleries, Tilla visibly shivers as the Plague Upon You egg is deposited onto the sands' warmth and she is able to get a good look at it. "I feel..itchy, just looking at that one!" She scratches a few bug bites on her right arm.
From the galleries, Eilem snorts and snags the mark out of the air; it quickly disappears back into his pocket where it belongs. He murmers something incoherent around the rest of the sample, waves an only *slightly* embarrassed goodbye to Sienna, and turns his attention to the sands and the ensuing clutch of eggs. The look is almost immediately followed by closer peering, and a thoughtful "huh" bubbles up from within the courier's chest. "Somethin've an odd batch, this one. Hope things're alright." He too shivers as a shudder runs up his spine, but less from the appearance of a particular egg and more from the sudden thought of potential zombie dragonets.
From the galleries, That would be the worst. I mean, best. I mean, uh. Hmm.
Pippa turns her attention back towards Jeyth, muttering an aside to I'no. "Apparently one of our bronzer boys haven't told you the uh… the tradition. See now, you are supposed to be bringing out the drink. You won't have to do that during the hatching, but you can, just in case." Her eyes fall upon the eggs, and she simply has to ask, "Those don't look kinda funny to you, do they?" Yep, she's asking the dragonrider newb this.
From the galleries, Daegan points to the Pox Upon Me egg, "That one looks like it'd be scabbed over sores if it wasn't on the sands. Makes you want to scratch in sympathy." he says as he actually scratches at his arms with a slight shudder, "Actually it's just really creepy, if you know what I mean." he says to Mordecai, shaking his head a little as he opens the flask and takes a sip of the cider, grinning over at Tilla, "That's exactly what I was thinking, Tilla."
From the galleries, Risya absently scratches her ear, staring down at the eggs, before shaking her head a bit. "Interestin' batch, so far."
Youth on her side, Jeyth's harvest-gold colors show nary a tinge of fading, instead taking the glow from the assembled lanterns and baskets and bending it to maize-rippled sides with each indrawn breath and falling exhale. A new breath drawn deep into her lungs heralds the moment before she deposits another egg onto the sands, this one a larger of the clutch and well-deserving of a little extra sniff and croon.
Gonoherpesyphillchlamaids Egg
A quite pleasant golden-tan provides the base color of this misshapen ovoid. Marring the once-perfect surface are stains of crimson that smear from various wounds of maroon. Bulbs of pale yellow scatter like infected stars across the very base of the egg, while stripes of an irritated scarlet scratch down a the side. On the narrower top appears to be a patch of unblemished buff surface, although slight shadows of bronze hint to a subsurface malignancy.
From the galleries, Tahira it would seem is absorbed with a sort of odd interest at the hatching. "I just didn't realize the size of eggs that would be involved, they look so small for things that will grow so large." there's a bit of biting wonder in her voice, as if she should have figured this out before.
From the galleries, Mordecai laughs delightedly. "They're all delightfully creepy. Perfect phrasing. Something to scare the candidates with. The eggs will get you." The newest egg is eyed, wide-eyed. "Oh, Faranth, that is so wrong."
From the galleries, Tilla grins over at Daegan, "Yea, right? Just..I feel itchy and.." And then that other thing comes out "Is it common for..wait, are those dragon body fluids or just how the egg looks?" She squints and takes another sip of her alcoholic beverage in the flagon.
Yes, apparently the old boys like T'ab have certainly fallen down on the job in terms of initiating the youngest of their bunch. "The drink?" I'no asks with an innocence that is completely unfeigned but it's tinged with a bit of hesitant confusion. "Just something cold, or is this some sort of special drink?" The emergence of the most recent egg makes him pause to consider the weyrwoman's question. "They're colorful. But I'm not sure if they look like anything in particular that I know about."
From the galleries, Zilurana dutifully lays in the lines for the newest of the eggs, and then blinks at it for a few moments. She's here to record, one of the archivists wants drawings of the eggs along with descriptions. So that's what she's doing, others are barely heard as she concentrates on her task of sketching. The last of the eggs though, "Ugh, gross," and she's completely unaware of having spoken aloud. Probably it's a good thing the journeyman hasn't returned yet.
From the galleries, Sienna continues to weave her way between people, handing out the cheese and crackers until her tray is empty. She then vanishes out into the bowl and returns shortly with small wooden mugs full of ice-cold juice. These are sure to go quickly, and she calls out over the crowd, "Juice!" as if this were a sporting event.
From the galleries, Daegan blinks at that particular egg, his head tilting a bit as he eyes it, "Wow, that one makes you want to curl up and hide almost." He says as he watches Jeyth as she croons to the egg, a faint frown creasing his brow for a bit, "What sort of color would you call that? Is it gold? It's certainly a bit larger than the other eggs so far." He murmurs to Mordecai, the weaver likely knows colors better than a meer cook does.
"Awe, something to drink. Shells 'n shards, I'no, usually when someone mentions /drink/ it'd be of the sort that'll put hair on your chest. And since the last time I touched your chest, it was nice and smooth. You need a drink" And that there is your public service announcement for all of the locals tonight. Pippa announcing the touchableness of I'no's chest.
Following the labours of her previous egg, the next one to arrive upon the sands is almost like an afterthought. Little attention is managed other than the effort to Get-It-Out before Jeyth is shuffling away with a low note close to a human's exhaled sigh. She leaves their care to that of the clutchfather, but not without another one of her sidling looks.
Bad Dog! Don't Eat! Egg
No way around it: with an almost flat base, and formed in such a way as though to look like several sausage-like shapes have been dropped and packed together into an almost conical form, this brown egg cannot but look like a giant turd. Those brave enough to take a closer look will see very small, textured spheroids, bright green in colour and each surrounded by a coral-like base. Dangerous and disgusting, but hey, someone might find it appealing.
From the galleries, Now that is much too much information. But Mordecai will file away the smoothness of I'no's chest anyway. Yeah. "I think I'd call it a pitri dish. I'm not sure what color that thing is, but it might be. I'd have to take a closer look, and I refuse to go near it. Ever." Yes, ever. Because he might catch something permanent.
From the galleries, "Yeah. But there'd be no way to fit that many big 'uns inside've a Gold. I don't care how big Golds're getting nowadays, it'd never work." Eilem nods sagely down to Tahira, delivering his line in a perfect deadpan.
Oh I'no's quite thankful for the darkness out here far from where glow lighting from the stands don't reach. "Oh right, that kind of drink." Like the one that made his head feel like it was going to fall off the morning after. He has to really fight an urge to cross his arms over his chest, fidgeting again while he can feel his ears just burning. "Maybe we could go get something after Jeyth's done." Shouldn't be long, if Pippa's prediction comes true.
From the galleries, Daegan just shakes his head at the Bad Dog! egg, "That looks like… well I giant dropping from some sort of animal." he says on an aside to Tilla as he just looks at the eggs, "It makes you wonder what else might be down there by the end of this." he says to Mordecai, before he offers the flask of cider to his friend.
From the galleries, Zilurana shakes her hand, looks at her hide, and finds a clean hide to begin the next grouping of eggs. That task done, Zil starts to sketch again, soon there is a new egg drawn on the hide. A glance at the eggs, and she makes a few line corrections, a sigh is given and she's back to waiting on the next egg.. soon though, she'll be out of hides to sketch on which could prove problematic. While she waits, Zilurana looks around the gallery and blinks. When did all the people show up?
Pippa looks back to I'no at his last words, grinning and leaning over as if to plant something of a smooch upon his cheek. "I might just take you up on that, aye. Thank you." A note from Jeyth has the woman looking back towards the dragon, eyeing the eggs upon the sands, and her eyes flicking towards the one paid just a bit more attention. She 'hmmmms' to herself, but that is about it.
From the galleries, "I'm not sure I do." Mordecai takes the flask, sips delicately, hands it back. "Thanks. Shardin hot in here." The Bad Dog egg gets a raised eyebrow. "That's actually the least virulent of them, you know." Relatively speaking, anyway. Tilla is given a logn look. Hey wait, he knows her, doesn't he? Maybe. "So, uh, different from your experiences of clutchings? The same?" Yes, he's insatiably curious. And too energetic for his own good.
Jeyth uses her hind legs to create another depression in the sands, wide feet scratching and pawing at the dark grains to make room for another selection of eggs. Settling once more, the junior gold sighs into her position, briefly blocking the view for the galleries with her rather large hindquarters. Moments later and a movement reveals the flicker of color of another egg pairing.
Monkey's Furuncle Egg
Shades of chestnut and sorrel brown smother the egg's surface with short strokes, almost like hair. Near the back, a more bare patch of shell reveals a peachy glow, but closer inspection reveals a throbbing, pinkish sheen lurking just below the shell's surface. Under a strong light, near the center of the pink is a bulge, in a very sickly yellow color. Let's hope nobody tries to squeeze this one, it just might blow.
From the galleries, Tilla squints, "Is that an egg or a dragon, doo?" She blinks a few times. "This is definitely going to be an interesting clutching." She snickers, "Generally, you don't want to go down there, to get a closer look, the queen can be very touchy. Unless its for a touching by the candidates and then the queen can /still/ be touchy. " She slurps at her drink, finding it mostly drained. "Juice? Is someone selling juice I think I heard?" She calls out in the general direction where she thinks she heard the call.
Stay Away From The Light Egg
The palest of pale white coats the ovoid's surface as if light has never touched majority of the egg. That is… except for the very top of the spherical object, where the Istan sunlight seems to have not only tanned its surface but severely scarred it. Blisters of crimson and black peel away from the top while various dark almond stripes appear to grow from the reddened surface. The sunburnt marks eventually blend into the light creams and ivory of the bottom, which seems to have been protected from the scalding light.
From the galleries, Sienna's keen hearing picks up on Tilla's words and she sweeps over to the greenrider with a flourish, skirt swishing around her legs. "It's free, from the kitchens," she says, though she does wonder why she keeps turning down marks that people keep offering her. "Enjoying yourself, ma'am?"
From the galleries, Daegan shakes his head a bit at the two newest eggs, "It's hard to believe things that look like that, hatch out dragons that aren't somehow similar to the eggs. It's a wonder to watch the eggs hatch, and just as interesting to watch them be cluched. I bet though that the golds get kind of annoyed with all the chatter and speculation, but least they don't say we can't watch." he says softly to Mordecai as he takes back the flask and has another sip of his own before capping it to help keep the cider cool. "That last one looks like a ball of light."
From the galleries, Tilla looks surprised, "Free? Seriously, you all should charge. Like at a runner race or something. At least for the galleries crowd. Good way to make extra marks." She nods, "Course, I am enjoying myself, although it seems like I was just here for Tyroth and Dedanseth's clutching and hatching!" She holds her flagon out to the Baker, "Could you pour it in here? No point in using two cups when this one is just fine." Back at Daegan, "I don't know, it looks like it had a bit of something burnt..a little.."
I'no can't wait till one day he'll be tall enough that Pippa doesn't have to lean /down/ to kiss him. The peck still enough to make youthful hormones soar and distract him from the spectacle of Jeyth's hard work. Raeklith even turns to glance at his rider and what might be flustering him so before turning back to try and make a few helpful furrows in the sand for the next egg. "It'll be a pleasure." I'no just murmurs back, trying not to look too besotted just then.
From the galleries, Mordecai nods, propping his elbows on his knees. "It has to be irritating to be stared at by so many while having your children. In a way." He smiles wistfully. "Just think, more dragons. That is the lovely part."
Pippa braves the sands, moving away from I'no for the time being to approach closer to the grouping of eggs. She glances up to Raeklith for a moment to look at the proud daddy, her one eyes inspecting the very delicate eggs. Really, one has to wonder with all of those scratched-looking spots. Her eyes move back to Jeyth, and from there towards the galleries. Well, at least they have juice up there, according to the words drifting down here.
From the galleries, Sienna nods her head to Tilla with a quick smile, shifting the tray to one hand while her other expertly pours the juice from a cup into the offered flagon. "Ista tries not to charge its guests too much," she says with a saucy little wink. "Enjoy the hospitality." She slips back into the crowd.
Care is given to help in securing her newly deposited eggs in their warm and sandy home, her tail sweeping to the side with consummate care to gently collapse the sides of the little depression. But her labour suddenly takes her unawares, and before the next breath a new egg is added, white and pink.
Tooth Be Told Egg
Well, isn't this a shiny egg! Oddly, there are ridges near the top of the ovoid rather reminiscent of a human tooth. So nice and shiny, pearly white…but not. About halfway down, the shell seems to be more puffy, and pink. There are some suspicious crimson blotches, streaming, dripping and caressing the right side of the egg, starting about halfway down, some ash gray areas coating the sides with some deep eggplant purple patches scattered throughout.
From the galleries, Eilem leans off his perch once more, stretching towards Sienna and Tilla in an attempt to discretely acquire a drink. The courier's fingertips are several feet out of reach, alas, and with a disappointed sigh Eilem drops nimbly to the floor and *walks* over, flagging the Baker down before she has wandered too far away.
From the galleries, Sienna is almost lost to the crowd, but Eilem's flagging has her turning around with a bounce of curls across her shoulders and another wide smile on her lips. "Back for more?" she asks him, offering the tray. "From where do you hail?"
From the galleries, A light cough draws Zilurana's attention and the journeyman she'd come up to the weyr with is back, "Feel better?" the flat tone of her voice is a dead giveaway that she doesn't care one wit if he feels better or not. A weak nod is given before he seats himself again, "I've sketched the eggs, at least the ones that are here," she says softly, before going back to watching, sketching, and correcting.
From the galleries, Daegan blinks at the newest egg, "Is it me or does that thing kind of remind you of a giant tooth has been placed on the sands?" he says to Mordecai, head turning so he can look at his friend for a moment before his gaze drifts back to the sands, he doesn't want to miss a moment of this unique occasion, at least unique for him in that it's his first time at a clutching.
I'no trails along after Pippa, but he detours at the last to go reach up towards Raeklith, who obligingly ducks his head down close for a good ridge scratching. "Look at what you've done." The young bronzerider murmurs, turning to watch the queen's latest effort. The dragon whuffs back happily, that long tail still whipping sand up behind him with barely contained glee.
The end is in sight, and Jeyth is crouching once more in the sands, an effort made to produce another delicate egg onto the hatching grounds. This next offering finds itself not far from one of the earlier speckled eggs. Maybe it is a trick of the eyes, a flickering of the shadows or the dim light of the cavern, but as the heated air touches its shell, the flecks of color begin to appear and deepen.
Return of the Speckles Egg
Bright red splotches scatter like bloody paint splashed across this pale egg, erupting from the shell in random, chaotic pattern. Though centralized through the center of the ovoid, small gatherings of cherry-hued bumps infest both base and top. Many of the imperfections have a faintly scabrous air to them, flaky and dry, while others are smooth and shiny, hard little knobs of virulent scarlet, and others have paled to mere pink, sinking downwards, creating pits rather than protuberances Faint irritations slash across the worst of the infestation, a trio of pinkish lines as though something had scratched at the raw, red bumps which mar the egg,s otherwise smooth surface.
From the galleries, Tilla snorts, "Not like Reaches charges, either, just sayyying!" But then Sienna is moving to serve the next person and her eyes are on the eggs once more. "Wait is that? It looks like a giant. Tooth! Like..ewwww." The blotches do not escape her observation, or the next egg, "Is it..it looks kind of sick! Is Jeyth sick? Or the eggs?" She pales a bit and bites her lip. "Except dragon ichor is green, so the red smears are not from her." she thinks out loud. Smooth, dragonhealer trainee. Smooth.
From the galleries, Zilurana sighs as she shakes the cramps out of her hand again, and once more begins the task of sketching the likeness of an egg on her hide. It would be nice if Denell had stayed past the second egg's appearance, but he didn't, "Think we're almost to the end," she comments. Of course, how would she know? Point of fact is she doesn't know, she's just hoping that she's right, "You sure," greenish looking journeyman asks. Zil shrugs, at least he didn't call her 'Zils' again.
From the galleries, "Here'n there'n about'n so on. Bein' in one place for more than a while would 'ntirely defeat the point of the exercise." Eilem picks a mug off the tray and takes a sip, nodding and watching the latest hatchley developments. Tilla's exclamation brings a shrug, and he leans over to reply, eyes still on the sands. "Dunno. They've all been a bit … off, this time around, but it doesn't look like anything happened to 'em. Maybe it's just a weird clutch."
Pippa flicks a glance to the clutchfather and I'no, her smile warm and slight in amusement. "Done?" she asks of her gold, dark eyebrows lifted as she silently mouths the count, one long finger pointing from egg to egg to try to bring a number to mind. "I think eleven…" She stops though, watching Jeyth, almost expectant.
From the galleries, Mordecai now wraps his arms around his legs, and rests his chin on his knees. "Couriouser and curiouser." He's getting more fascinated by the whole process. "Wow. Yeah. It does look like a tooth."
From the galleries, Daegan blinks at the last egg and he shudders again, "That thing looks like some sort of scabby, open wound that's gonna weep something at any moment." he says as he eyes the last egg, swallowing just a bit as the thing seems to make him feel more than a little uncomfortable at the sight. "I do hope that none of the hatchlings are sick, you do wonder considering the look of some of those eggs.
From the galleries, Sienna takes a moment to rely on the conversation with Eilem to rest herself, sitting lightly on the edge of a bench and looking up at him. "What exercise might that be?" she queries, holding out the tray as another person waves at her. Finally she looks to the sands, fine brows arching upwards in a delicate curve into her tanned face. "They look…" She doesn't finish that thought, lest her opinion be insulting.
And here you all thought she was done. Jeyth even thought so as well as her body lifts, the autumn leaves decorating her wings' sails coming from her sides to mantle the slightest. She starts to move to the side before hesitating in mid-step, rumbling in surprise, and then suddenly depositing what looks to be the last and final egg of her small clutch. Swinging her head about to look to the small egg, she nearly sneezes in response, urging a shake of her head to clear nostrils.
Spring is Sprung Egg
Pastel pinks and airy blues provide a smooth base to this compact egg's shell, though they hardly steal the eye. So many little bumps are floated overtop, irregularities barely seeming to cling to the main egg: tiny dual blue spheres barely joined together with swipes of red at the joint, or larger, spiky yellow balls with regular pockmarking craters, or oblong orange forms marked with vertical creases, or green triangles with bulbous browns over the points. The variety of shapes and colours offers something to tickle anyone's fancy - and just about anyone's nose.
From the galleries, "Well, that one's actually pretty in comparison to some of the others," Zilurana comments of the last as she sets that last egg's likeness onto the hide as well. Now the fun starts, she'll be here a while putting in the descriptions. Not that it's needed, still a master says 'jump' a smart apprentice asks 'how high?'
And not to be left behind is the very last of the eggs. It is upon the eventually sneeze that Jeyth crouches and shakes and as she steps away, there is revealed another egg. Poor solitary thing, an even after after-thought, left near it's Spring breathren.
Big Bird Never Saw It Coming Egg
Luminescent stain creates a glow of cyan surrounding an orb of pitted deep cerulean blue. Tendril tuffs like spongy protuberances emerge on the illusion of stems erupting all across the actual smooth expanse. The design brings to mind some sort of prickly mutant cactus on a desert formed of Ista's black diamond sand, fairly blending into the terrain beneath the shell.
From the galleries, Daegan laughs a bit at the last egg, hand reaching up to rub the tip of his nose, "Would you look at that. Looks almost like a boquet of flowers that make your nose itch and twitch in the ealy spring." He says to Mordecai and he grins over at Tilla, "Some of them look ill, and the others just kind of make you want to shake your head in bafflment." he mutters before seeing the newest to be laid on the sands, head tilting a little to the side.
I'no leans against Raeklith's cheek, the two watching Jeyth dropping one last egg in tandem. "There, an even dozen is it?" That's not too bad he supposes, though he recalls far more of then during his own candidacy. "I guess she's done wait… Thirteen." Guess Jeyth sneezed that one out or something.
From the galleries, Eilem gives Sienna a sidelong grin, straightening and taking a sip of his juice. "Like somethin' that came out of the back end've a dragon? Yeah, they do, don't they. Specially that one." The trader raises a hand and points to the Bad Dog! Don't Eat! Egg. As if there was doubt about which he was talking about. "Also there's a … tooth?" He looks confused for a moment, unable to explain that away with his Totally Expert Opinion Honest, Guys. A friendly smile pushes the bemusement off his face a moment later, though, and Eilem's eyes flick back to Sienna. "Oh. I'm, uh, courier. Messenger. Run things'n goods'n what-not for the Traders. I'm all over the place."
From the galleries, Mordecai grins wryly. "Well, there had to be at least one nice one in the bunch." He stretches himself lazily, and chuckles at Daegan. "A bouquet of flowers for an egg. That is certainly odd. Make me wonder what the dragonet will be like."
Pippa blinks at Jeyth, and again as the woman looks to her lifemate. "Gonna sneeze any more out of you? Don't have another egg hiding under your stomach now, do you?" This earns Pippa quite a note, lilting with question and maybe a bit of a snert. The woman breaks out into a grin, smiling and offering her hand to the new mom's muzzle for a comforting stroke. She turns her head to Raeklith and then I'no. "She is done."
From the galleries, Sienna laughs, giving Eilem a smile with her head tilted a bit to one side. "Yes. They look exactly like something that came out of the back end of a dragon," she remarks wryly. Standing again she adjusts her skirt around her legs and smiles. "Well met, Messenger. And yes, if that is your chosen profession than being in one place too long puts you at a distinct disadvantage." She wiggles her fingers in farewell and darts back through the crowd and out to the bowl to sell gift baskets to tourists.
From the galleries, Sienna heads down the stairs.
From the galleries, Daegan shrugs his shoulders a bit and he just looks over the sands with another shake of his head, "It's certainly a very interesting batch of eggs, is it not?" he says to Mordecai and Tilla, his shoulder shrugging again as he uncaps his flask and offers another drink to Mordecai, "Want to sit and watch them a bit longer, or do we need to head back to Reaches fairly soon? I've a rest day tomorrow and finished my shift just before word of the clutching was happening.
Retreating to the side to let the new clutchfather attention to their modest clutch, Jeyth reclines into the sands, sphynx-like with forelegs stretched before her. She watches for a long moment, taking the alocolades offered by Pippa before eventually dropping her head to her paws and to watch on with a new mother's protectiveness of her eggs. Ever so slowly, sleep takes her.
From the galleries, Tilla admires the spring looking egg, "It does, that design looks especially good against the black sand contrast." Juice is continually enjoyed, until the most recent egg causes her to pause, "I like the colors, but the lumps are confusing…" She stares at the Big Bird egg for quite a while. "Oh yes, very unique set of eggs. I mean they all come out differently, but this is definitely going to be a memorable clutch, I have a feeling."
From the galleries, Mordecai stands, giving Daegan a sheepish look. "I've actually got to go down to the Hall for some stuff. I do have a rest day after, though. Which is good." He eyes the eggs consideringly. "No, I think I've seen enough. More than enough."
From the galleries, "You missed one Zils," the journeyman comments, a deep breath, and another is given before Zilurana begins to sketch yet another egg, "You could sketch one of these things," she seeths at the journeyman, just managing to keep her voice low enough to not be heard too easily by those around. The eggs drawn, Zil begins to add a brief description of each one. But not before she sketches in the outlines of Pippa stroking Jeyth's muzzle, "Done, and soon as I have the descriptions in, the sketches can be taken to Master Grerero," she turns to look at the journeyman before she begins the descriptions, "Journeyman Denell, if you call me 'Zils' again, I refuse to be held accountable for my actions," the journeyman wisely stands and leaves the gallery, and the sands.
From the galleries, Daegan chuckles a bit more and the large man stands and stretches, "Well then I guess I might head back then, though I do wonder if Ilae is about, might be able to swing a ride back from her later. She used to be a nanny at Reaches before she impressed here at Ista." he says as he stands beside Mordecai, shoulders pulled back to stretch the muscles a bit there too.
Raeklith needs no further congratulation from his rider, his chest all but puffs out as he gives I'no one more gentle nudge then trudges over towards Jeyth. As the queen starts to nod off, he sits up on his haunches and guards beside her. His turn to play the watchdog, which comes rather naturally to him. The littlest bronzerider just grins at that before walking back towards Pippa, extending an arm to her offering escort. "I believe you wanted a drink now?"
From the galleries, Mordecai has disconnected.
From the galleries, T'ab goes home.
"Aye, I want more than a drink… and lets see if we can find the right sort that'll put some hair on your chest." Pippa moves away from Jeyth, giving the gold a final, fond pat to the side of her face. It is more of a soothing movement, rubbing at that special spot just under her eyes. She moves off, booted feet moving across the sands to join the young bronzerider. "This deserves a drink."
From the galleries, "I DO want to see what comes out of these, though." Eilem adds, to no one in particular. The courier stands there with juice in hand, musing quietly as he watches the sands. A thought occurs to him and he opens his mouth to say something more…but reconsiders at the last moment and quickly snaps his mouth shut, looking embarrassed about how close he came to monologuing. Eilem downs the rest of his juice in one long quaff, then clips the empty mug to a carabiner on his belt and vaults back up the gallery wall to his previous perch, clambering up to the higher seat and retrieving his satchel.
From the galleries, Zilurana stands and heads towards the exit. She's done her job, eggs are sketched, now to go find something to drink. Or better, a place to just sit where she won't have to write or draw for a few hours or so.
From the galleries, Zilurana heads down the stairs.
From the galleries, The housekeeper arrives to cart Mordecai off to bed.
From the galleries, Tilla has now drained her other juice, too. "Looks like time for a refill, or a nap.." she yawns. "I think a nap would be good. See you all later!" She waves and makes her way out and down the stairs to where her lifemate will be waiting for her, just beyond the sand's edge.
From the galleries, Narcissa suddenly disappears ::between::!
From the galleries, Tilla heads down the stairs.
From the galleries, Taliesin goes home.
From the galleries, Tahira goes home.
From the galleries, Eilem goes home.
I'no looks to Pippa as they head out towards cooler areas and the search for hair inducing refreshments. "Say question. If there aren't stairs to your weyr and she's over there and so's Raeklith… how do you get home?"
"/I/ walk up the ramp. You can walk up the ramp too… or hitch a ride with someone else. So if that is your leading question to see if you can sleep in my weyr tonight, the answer is aye. But first, we'll be getting snookered. Jeyth ain't getting up, Raeklith will be keeping a weather eye out, and I'm thirsty." Flicking a wink to I'no, the woman takes his arm as if to lead him off, a flow to her step lending to speed and an urging to move along.
Mostly D'baji and slightly Lanti get Malachai on the path to candidacy.
MOO Time: 2010-06-21 07:35:14
And on Pern …
The time is 05:35.
It is sunrise of the forty-eighth day of winter.
It is the seventeenth Turn of the Tenth Interval.
It is a winter before dawn.
Living Cavern
The smooth, rounded walls cavern sweep upward from an oval base, two dragonlengths long and one wide, large enough to seat every member of the Weyr at mealtimes. The soft blackness of the lava which forms these caverns swallows glowlight, so shelves for glowbaskets abound, dotting the walls every three or four paces and casting gentle greenish light toward the sparkles of gold volcanic glass embedded in the ceiling. Ancient, lustrous tables run along the axis of the cavern, and at the far end rests the raised dais and high table, where Weyrleaders and honored guests eat during formal occasions. Behind the high table, the Weyr's symbol is embedded into stone: a smoking mountain in black on an orange shield, trimmed in gold.
Malachai
Small, scrawny, absurdly diminutive: at a bare five feet three, there is a childlike disregard for self-preservation, what with thin limbs that splay, unconcernedly, where they will, long out of proportion to the little-child torso or the sharp, almost-adult face whose rime-gray gaze is quick and sharply assessing beneath thick eyebrows. A gaunt face, this; sunken cheeks are dusted with rose in an otherwise colorless complexion, while cherub's rosebud mouth turns, ever-so-slightly upward, as though withholding some deadly, sweet secret under a pert little nose. Of a blond so pale it shows creamy white in streaks, thick hair falls to slim hips in a tangled, unmanaged mass.
Green and cream stripes alternate the length of this knitted dress, smoothed down over frail frame like an ill-fitting second skin; lacy hem flutters about knobbly knees turned slightly towards each other beneath the slight curve of wiry muscle; long sleeves drape cuffs over thin hands, flapping lazily against the knuckles as if reproving their owner's trenchant unconcern. Knee high, black boots have seen better days; roughened, worn, their surface is a bit scratchy over toe and heel. Laced to the top, the strings dangle, untied and ignored, hanging limply to either side. The soles are thick and a bit dirty. Malachai wears Malachai's Listening Tube around her neck. A green firelizard is perched on her shoulder.
She is a teenager of about 13. She is awake, but seems rather distracted.
D'baji
Molten reds are still readily present in his mane of hair, especially around his temples, but now more than half the bronzerider's head has turned silvery-grey. His hair has grown shaggy again, frequently swept back to avoid leafy-green eyes, while covering his ears and curling about the base of a thick neck. There, behind his right ear, a strip of leather deocrated with charms has been braided in, the tip of it just brushing his shoulder. Bushy red eyebrows sit a few centimetres below his hairline. A thin, light scar runs through his left brow and down to his cheekbone. Closer inspection reveals a misshapen left pupil as well. Freckles make their unwanted way over the bridge of his angular nose. A quirked mouth, the lines at its sides hinting at the man's age, gives way to a strong, clefted chin. He is burly and broad-shouldered, with the defined musculature common to dragonriders adding to the strength of his 6'2 frame. Tufts of silvery-grey chest hair often show above the collars of his shirts.
A pair of worn sandals, a pair of faded swim trunks… Deb's been an Istan for a long time. But even the casual attire can't hide that brand spankin' new patch of hairlessness in a vertical line just by his left shoulderblade. How embarrassing.
A double-corded, triple-looped affair of black and orange and silver, with two fancy tassles and a badge showing a dragonf lying over a mountain show him to be the Istan Weyrleader, flying with Maverick Wing. Most importantly, a golden-bronze thread signifies Nverath.
He is an older adult of about 59. He is awake and looks alert.
D'baji has no apparent threadscoring.
Lanti
As the Turns have passed, time has chiseled away most of the softness from Lanti's body, leaving behind angles lean and stark, though not altogether harsh. She is a shade taller than average, but her skinny frame serves to make her look just a bit taller than she really is. Lanti sports the same red-gold hair of her mother, its waves just brushing her shoulders. From her father she has inherited eyes of a clear sky blue with darker flecks of navy, and her pale lips form a generous mouth. The rigors and demands of her profession have given Lanti a muted but harder edge, only strengthened by her intensity.
The scanty, skin-tight garment can only be good for one thing: a serious, tropical swim. Or perhaps driving others crazy. Lanti does little to improve her appearance, but in an outfit like this, it's fairly obvious she doesn't really need to primp. The two-piece swimsuit is in the traditional colors of Ista Weyr, with black fabric and vibrant orange trim. It is sturdy enough to offer support where needed but still allows ample contact with sun or water.
She is an adult of about 36. She is awake and looks alert.
Running the Weyr takes lots of energy, and what's the best source? Klah and porridge. The weyrleader has a rather large bowl of the stuff (porridge, that is), and a rather large mug of klah, and is walking - very, very carefully - to his table, hoping not to spill either, and so walking with a smoother roll of his hips than normal. It's almost pretty, really. If a big, burly mass of wrinkly, silver-haired D'baji can be called pretty.
Lanti is also getting ready for the day, but going by her attire, the first stop will be the beach. A light blue sarong doesn't do much to cover the swim outfit beneath. Her choice of toast is far less precarious that D'baji's porridge, and she spends some time sipping from her mug of klah before heading over to join the weyrleader. "Good morning," she offers simply as she slides down to a seat.
Malachai wouldn't know; she's not watching. She's busy feeding her lizard tidbits from what looks like a wasteland of meaty bits: a bit of wherry here, a gibblet of bovine there. Idle chatter spills, unregulated, from her lips. "… and then the eggs came tumbling out. Big ones. And all kinds of wierd colors. Can you believe it, Hem?" Said lizard merely snatches at the meat, hastily filling her belly. At the sound of voices, she looks up and wriggles a little. Weyrleader types. Oh, hai. Please to not notice the blond mumbling to a lizard who doesn't understand over in the corner. "Hi." Unless she does that.
A belated nod goes to Malachai, a look which causes a slight sloshing of klah onto a callused hand. Then the quiet curse. But he makes it to the table, sits himself down, stares over at the young girl for a bit, and then is finally distracted by Lanti. "Take it you're not goin' t'meet a holder first thing."
"Well, first official thing, sure," Lanti answers, breaking off a corner of toast before glancing up at D'baji. "Sun's not even up yet, though. More than enough time for breakfast and surfing." She gives him a flash of a grin and turns to Malachai, eyeing the young girl with her firelizard. "Hi," she answers simply, then pops the small bit of toast in her mouth. "How old is she?" Lanti asks the Healer with a nod toward the green.
Malachai glances down at her little green, and smiles. "She's twenty one days old." Another lump of meat is snatched. "Chew it, child, or no more." Sqwak! "Chew!" The small creature curls her lip and attempts to look threatening; she only manages to look ridiculous, with a bit of bovine hanging out of her mouth like a brown tongue. But she does chew it, growling all the while, her tail flicking in irritation. "Really, now. Are all babies this difficult?"
D'baji arches an eyebrow over toward the firelizard-feeding region of the caverns. "Not that you're countin' th'days or anythin', huh?" is half-teased over to the girl with a slow smile. A moment or two of watching the green, and then a broader grin. "Looks like m'youngest when she was a baby. Or like she still is, for that matter." This gets a quick raise of his eyebrows to the goldrider. Who knows his daughter.
"I don't know, D'baji," Lanti replies, grin more than just a little crooked now. "Some of your older children act like that sometimes, too." She breaks off another piece of toast and winks at Malachai. "One of many reasons I stuck with canines. More than enough squalling babies in the world already."
Malachai says, "Oh, no. I'm not counting at all." Malachai's head tilts slightly to one side. "Your daughter looks like a firelizard? What a perfectly horrid thing to say." Her grin widens, mischief sparkling. She knows perfectly well that isn't what he meant, but opts to tease, just a little. Hair is twirled around her finger, ignorance of the bit of meat that clings to it until Hemlock takes a swipe. "Stop that." She gives Lanti her sunniest smile. "I agree. Human babies are… obnoxious.""
D'baji just laughs at the swipe. "Acts like one, anyway. Or really, yours acts like mine. S'for th'better." Maybe he missed the tease? Maybe he's just getting too old. And he goes to take a bit of his porridge and a sip of his now-cool-enough klah. At least he doesn't have a cane. "Human babies are adorable. Y'all just pro'ly ain't ever had one of yer own t'hold. That's what sways ya, no matter who y'are."
"I suppose someone has to have them," Lanti tells Malachai, "I just don't need to be one of those someones." She finishes off the first slice of toast and washes it down with klah. She glances at D'baji again and snorts lightly. "Easy for you to say. You don't have to carry it in your belly for nine or ten months."
Malachai gives Lanti a sidewise smirk. Really? Did D'baji just go there? "Or push it out." She agrees in amusement. "You do know, Weyrwoman, that if men were forced to have babies, there wouldn't be any?" She grins wickedly."Oh, I'm not allowed to hold babies. They make me itch." They don't, but who has to know. Another sqwak is issued. "No, you little glutton. Digest what you have, first." Hemlock hisses and turns her back, folding her wings primly as she Scorns and Ignores Malachai, who rolls her eyes skyward. Faranth help her. "I can see she's going to be fun as she gets older."
"Says you. Y'ever thought maybe guys're jealous of you bein' able t'do all that? Not to say it wouldn't hurt like a 'score, but there's some real…" a pause, a glance toward the bowl, "disparity, there. That the right word?" This last question is pointed more toward Lanti. And D'baji helps himself to another big spoonful of porridge, some of which squishes out the side of his mouth. He catches it with a finger.
Lanti just raises her brows once in answer to D'baji, accompanied by a slight widening of the eyes. She's apparently no longer talking about the baby subject. Instead, she eats a bit more toast. Drinks more klah. Glances at Malachai. "How long have you been at the Weyr?"
Malachai giggles, "Really? How silly." That's her final opinion on that one, really it is. "I've been here… " She pauses, tallies, and grimaces. "Awhile? I don't know for sure. Long enough to get the bottomless pit who shall remain nameless. Thankless git." She is still being Ignored, however, and grins again before taking a sip of her own klah, which she'd entirely forgotten. "Blech. Cold."
"Here with the healers," D'baji muses. "Might've even seen you 'round the infirmary when we go t'get Saji all taped up when she gets all scraped up? Coulda been some other little girl, though. Got a few little ones runnin' around, infirmary hands or apprentices or whatever." And he squints and stares for a moment. "Ain't you too young t'be klah-sippin' anyway?" A nod to Lanti. "How old d'ya think she is?" Apparently, young enough to be spoken of as if she's not there, still.
Lanti gives D'baji a mildly confounded look and shrugs. She turns to Malachai and says, "I /have/ heard it can stunt your growth, and all sorts of stuff like that. Pregnant women aren't even supposed to drink it, or something. Though I don't see how that matters, the child comes out a screaming mess no matter what."
Malachai affects a firmly dignified pose — is D'baji sufficiently cowed? — and says in her plumiest tones, "I happen to be thirteen, sir. Quite old enough to drink klah and be apprenticed to a trade." She is proud, so proud of herself; didn't she sound Very Adult. "I can't help that I'm short, you know. I take after my mother that way. Besides children prefer someone who does not tower over them." she points out sniffily, tossing her thick mane of hair over her shoulder. "It's supposed to, but since I'm already short, it's perfectly harmless, isn't it? My mentors don't think I'm going to grow much more, anyway, though I'm healthy."
D'baji can't quite keep an amused sort of 'I'm a dad and you're such a kid' smile off his face as he watches Malachai. Perhaps not quite the reaction she was going for. "So what, you tryin' to specialise in kids, that the idea? Think you're th'kinda person they're like t'trust, think you're steady enough already t'deal with some unpredictable seven-turn-old?" A more careful glance to the firelizard. "Or obstinant babies?" Lanti just gets an aside of, "You loved Baj as a baby an' you know it."
"Only because he's Sin's, too," Lanti answers D'baji, though her smile gives it a away that yeah, she kind of adored the little red blob of baby in his day. "I mean, he'd get so /angry/. It was hilarious." She finishes off her toast, then klah, then starts to get to her feet. "I'm going to hit the waves now before I run out of time. Grab my board on the way. Do you surf?" she adds to Malachai as she pushes in her chair. "It's a great workout. As long as you know how to swim."
"Oh, I already do. And half those seven turn olds are taller than me." Mala retors with a laugh. "You try convincing those hot shot riders to take their medicine, and they turn into two turn olds! We practically have to sit on J'seen every time. Thinks he's invincible." And then, she rolls her eyes at D'baji, pointing out with wry amusement. "Of course not. But we Healers have to learn it all. I plan to specialize in being a shipboard healer, if I can. Or an herbalist. Or both. I want nothing to do with children." She squints at Lanti. "I don't know how." SHe sounds a bit mournful about it.
"So you think you're studious, then?" D'baji narrows his eyes at the girl for a moment, waiting her response. While a hand waves idly and reaches toward Lanti - missing her, what with her standing, but whatever. "Hang on a sec," gets asked of the goldrider too. Hah. So much for surfing.
"Faranth knows those sailors need all the Healers they can get," Lanti tells Malachai before getting distracted by D'baji's last toward her. She reties the sarong around her waist and nods quickly, indicating he should get on with it.
A glance back to the girl, we'll say she's become distracted by her firelizard again, and the weyrleader turns more full attention to Lanti. "How's Nylanth doing? You seen your dad recently?"
Lanti nods a few times as she rests her forearms on the back of her chair and folds her hands. "Nylanth's still grounded, but Dad's doing better. A little stir crazy, of course. Still on edge. I still can't believe Il'ad is running High Reaches right now." She can't help but grin there. It's just funny. "I'm trying to get my dad out on the waves. but he doesn't like the winter surf here, and he won't go to Southern with me if Nyls can't come, too." She shrugs. "What can you do, right? How's Ji'n? I should really check in on him."
D'baji gives a slow nod. "I'll go see 'im. Been meaning to anyway, just… y'know how it gets, tryin' to keep a Weyr runnin'. I'll talk to him." The affirmed plan of action gives way to a helpless shrug of those broad shoulders. "Ji'n is… seventeen. Heartbroke an' broodin' round our weyr a bit more, like they do. It'll pass. Gettin' better at his hidework." There's a smile that's not lacking at least a bit of pride.
After a suitable interval of convincing, Hemlock finally falls asleep. "Silly lizard." Malachai grumbles affectionately, then turns back to D'baji and Lanti. "Heartbroke? Whyfor?" She asks, full of curiosity and whatnot. Because, you know, girls like heartbroke boys. Most of the time, anyway.
Lanti nods a few times to D'baji. "I've been hoping to sit Lida down for a chat, too. Work keeps getting in the way, though." She drums her fingers against the chair, then straightens again. "Just need to schedule this stuff in sometimes, cold as it sounds. Good luck with my dad." Malachai gets a glance for her question, but Lanti just gives her a slightly crooked grin and looks to D'baji. "Was that all? Want a few good runs before I have to go meet that Holder."
With a laugh, D'baji can only offer, shaking his head, "'Cause he's a teenager. Sure you'll probably get heartbroken at least once, no matter how things go for you. It's part of growin' up, kid." Lanti gets a nod. "Thanks. Do go see 'im, eh? He won't say anythin' t'me, he's always liked you. Pair of ya could at least surf or something. I'll handle stuff here, though, go do your runs." And with the worried dad stuff out of the way, the weyrleader turns his full attention (beware!) on Malachai. "C'mere, kid."
This could be… bad. Very, very bad. Malachai is suddenly suspicious. "Uhm… why? Boys aren't worth my time." So says the worldly-wise teenager, who Knows Everything. Do tease her relentlessly when it happens, why don't you. At D'baji's summons, she peers, curious. "Uh… sure… I guess?" Curling the lizard up in her arms, she stands, and sidles D'baji-wards, giving Lanti a curious look. "Will you teach me to surf sometime? It sounds like so much fun!" She's an enthusiastic little bugger, is Malachai.
Lanti rubs her arms a little and nods to D'baji. "You know where to find me," she tells the weyrleader before giving Malachai a nod. "Every morning I'm in the Weyr and it's not storming. Come get me and I'll set you up with a board and lessons." And that's it, she's outta there for a few waves.
D'baji offers a nod without even really looking to Lanti. And the weyrleader is good and done with beating around the bush. "Think you'll be able t'deal with a tiny little dragon in a handful'o months?"
Malachai's eyebrows shoot up. "Me? Really?" Did glass just break somewhere? Possibly. "Well… I don't know. But I could try, I think, to see if I can." She bounces on her toes, not quite sure what to do with herself. "It's so much to think about." Aww, she's flustered — turns out she isn't as mature as she would like to believe. "Yes. I'll do it."
D'baji has seen this before, and has taken on that patient nodding that comes with waiting for young minds to try and find a decision. "A'right, look," started in once she's done, "y'go tell your healer superiors what's up, y'get your things, an' we'll getcha set in th'barracks. Gonna hafta refer ya to another rider t'deal with, I gotta get goin'." On his half-eaten bowl of porridge and mostly-still-full-and-now-cold mug of klah. "Y'get back here for lunch, they'll get ya'll set up, understand? Y'miss th'appointment, s'your tough luck." And a serious look is pinned on the girl.
Malachai nods, thoughtfully. "Oh, I live here a'ready. Should be easier than y'think. I'm not missing out." She's firm on that, and smiles. "My parents! Oh, I'll send them a message. They'll like it." She's dithering a bit, still, but hey. She's a girl. Girls, they do that. She smoothes the knot happily. "A chance at a dragon isn't something you pass up. Ever."
[Fade to black]