Clutching 33a


08:53 PM
Logfile from Hannah-HT.

Hannah's Hideaway (#10719)

Volumptuous bed is the main focus of this room. A four-poster contraption that is draped in silks and velvets of every jewel-hued color. Over-stuffed pillows decorate the plushy mattress, sitting atop a comfortor of the richest jade. Curtains drape from the poster-frame, allowing privacy when occupied. An elegant armoire is set off to the side, allowing the easy storage of clothing and other necessities. Virtually as spartan as the weyr, each personal item has it's own distinct place. Shelves line one wall, storing various knick-knacks that the rider has acquired over the turns.

It is a spring afternoon.

To the southeast, you see a gold dragon.

Gliding about are two firelizards.

You notice R'ave asleep here.

Obvious exits:

Tunnel Outer Weyr

That once glowing gold, now fat and heavy with eggs, is once again about to head for the sands to lay her second clutch of eggs. Come join the fun — she'll be heading that way in about 10 min. (@move me to #2066 —> Galleries)

— entered by Hannah on 2002-06-27 20:54 MOO Time. (1 minute and 38 seconds)

<All> Dhiammarath senses that she stretches and shifts almost uncomfortablly. »It is time.« A mixture of cinimmon and jasmine mingle with the jade and gold tones of her mind with portents of a future to come… good or ill.

You think to Dhiammarath, » Now? «

You sense Dhiammarath affirms the cinnimon strengthening with determination as she simply indicates the impending transition.

Dhiammarath> Hatching Grounds BROADCASTING

Dhiammarath> 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 no even perceived respite. When empty, the vault of this cavern is hushed, still that echoes and rebounds; when occupied, it is intensified. Every sound resounds twicefold as loud as was intended.

Dhiammarath> You see IstaWeyrBldr here.

Dhiammarath> Obvious exits:

Dhiammarath> Entrance

<All> Dhiammarath senses that Quarith twines together the beautiful pastels of the setting of Rukbat, allowing the sweet cadence of her voice to emerge. « More grandchildren for me. »

You go to the Tunnel.

Tunnel (#1017)

Obvious exits:

Saria's Chambers Hatching Sands Hannah's Nook Annie's Domain

You go to the Hatching Grounds.

Hatching Grounds BROADCASTING (#4321)

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 no even perceived respite. When empty, the vault of this cavern is hushed, still that echoes and rebounds; when occupied, it is intensified. Every sound resounds twicefold as loud as was intended.

Gold Dhiammarath is here.

You see IstaWeyrBldr here.

Obvious exits:


Hannah trots after her lifemate, "Now, Dhiammarath? It is time now?" Lifting each foot gingerly, she moves toward her lifemate, but suitably out of the say so that the pale gold can do her work. A lone set of footprints marks the goldriders walk across the sands, marring her lifemate's clean slate.

** Hannah just set the @party! Type @party to check it out! **

Pale Dhiammarath has made her way to the sands and is ready to rid herself of her fatness! Come and join the fun in the Galleries of Ista Weyr! (@move me to #2066)

— entered by Hannah on 2002-06-27 21:18 MOO Time. (2 seconds)

Dhiammarath eyes the sands as she paces them off, a long, deliberate line being dragged down the middle, not meant to be perminant, but a simple architectural deliniation . She smoothes her chosen side, that farthest from the galleries, all the way back to the farthest corner. She snorts at the size of the space, or lack there of, but hisses with a sharp burst of pain, and her motions speed, almost time. It seems to thrum through her mind and almost tangibly through the cavern.

Hannah watches her lifemate curiously, but she's seen the pale queen do this before and thus isn't as awed by it. Still, the last clutch was laid out interestingly and so she wonders what Dhiammarath will do this time. Eyes flick toward the filling galleries, causing the shy weyrwoman to move a little further back and somewhat out of sight.

Dhiammarath senses that Hannah seems to ponder, then that quiet inner voice of hers speaks out. » Love.. do you think I am pregnant? Can you.. sense anything? «

Dhiammarath serveys the grounds one more time, but, alas, somethings do not yield for plans to arive and Dhiammarath moves rapidly to her chosen spot, graceful as a snake even in her over full condition. Her wings fan slightly with frustration, sending glints of pail sunshine, the lady flustered for once by the mechanitions of nature, before calmly regaining her poise. Time or no this happens. »NOW!«

Dhiammarath trembles as conflicting sides of good and evil are aroused. Pale hide catches the light of the sands, a multitude of jewel colors flashing before her side heaves as the first egg is clutched. Obsidian side of darkness is revealed and as the queen steps away, the egg seems to rock with the movement of the dragon as she brushes the ovoid lightly with her tail, the pristine white making a last stand against the cold of night to let daylight be shone to the crowds. The Dark Side of the Moon Egg is here, prevalent ebony facing the galleries as a statement of it's so-called power.

You sense Dhiammarath is more than a little distracted. »Forgive me my dear. I cannot answer your question now I cannot focus enough to do so.«

Hannah raises an eyebrow at the egg. "It's rather dark," is quietly commented until she moves a little and sees the light side. "Hmm, this should be an interesting clutch."

You think to Dhiammarath, » That is okay. I understand. You're busy.. being mommy. «

Dhiammarath steps back to servey the cornerstone of her work and moves in a strait path along her earlier line until she judges she has enough space, the fine details will wait, for now she has a task. It is begun, and she moves with a rhythem now, the familiar drumbeats echoed in her step and the steady twitch of her sundipped tail. A reverent chant for the great work that is proceeding.

Dhiammarath moves silently amongst the clutch, continually shifting her designs in the sands. Pausing for the barest of moments, she turns to make a new place in the sands as contractions tug at her jewel-accented hide. A large, creamy egg is exposed while Ista's pale queen moves on. The egg leans slightly to the side, but doesn't disturb a single particle of sand. With a contented rumble, she adjusts the designs in the sands so that Footprints on the Moon Egg is nestled safely before moving on.

Hannah is smart enough to stay on the fringes of her dragon's work, though child-sized weyrwoman does lean up on her toes to peer across at the new addition. "You're going for the grey, dusty look aren't you?" At least they are.. pretty. Somewhat. Interesting, definitely

The second pillar is planted and this time she moves away from the newest arival. Her lifemate's remark draws only a long and knowing look as she arives at her next goal, towards the back of the caverns. Apparently just in time, for a crystal dark orb makes it's appearance, the queen heralding it's arival with a single accentuated beat of her wings. It hovers, neither large nor small as she secures it in it's place, pure blackness, like Dark Matter or doubt.

Brow wrinkling, Hannah eyes the eggs that are coming out of her lifemate. "Dhia… you're last clutch was so pretty. What happened?" She hmms softly, "Must the influence of the father. But R'ave and I surely thought you and Soq would make beautiful babies." Galleries are ignored for the moment as she moves close to her lifemate's area, but not steping into it.

Dhiammarath moves away from the ominous addition back, the pattern revealing itself a nearly perfect square with Dhiammarath moving for the fourth corner. She croons softly, somethign that almost resembles a melody, or perhaps it is the memory of a song? It matters not, for Dhiammarath pauses long enough to shape a hollow into the sand that is to her liking. Hannah gets another long look that seems acompanied by a command.

You sense Dhiammarath tisks softly in your mind. »Wait.« She orders gently. »These are just the beginning. For darkness there must be light. For light to have meaning there must be the possibility of darkness.«

Hannah tilts her head thoughtfully before a soft 'ahhh' escapes her lips. Shifting her feet back and forth to ease the heat of the sands, she watches the dark eggs come out of her pale lifemate. "Mmnnn. I wonder what the rest will look like."

But once more Nature interupts that which is ordered and planned, if only by a few moments. With less fuss than the others, the queen simply lowers herself, acquiecing to the inevitable. The next is both blazing and shadowed. A dark core, weighs heavy, only to be wreathed in dancing silver and shifting lights like the great Aureol of a Solar Eclipse. Only after it is done does she bugle, like the sound of silver trumpets at the emporor's will. The four Corners are complete! If anyone would take time to note each point has some how lined up with a point of the compass.

Dhiammarath carefully moves toward the center of the square, her tail lifted to prevent any disturbance of the sand. Once in the dead center of her formation, she hunkers down and readies the area for the newest arrival. Pale hide ripples as the contractions seize her muscles in preparation of the coming of the egg. It is nearly time for the next egg.

Dhiammarath rises up on her haunches, wings spreading wide as her head goes back, holding that pose for a long moment, like a star in the center of the solar system, the faint jeweled highlights of her pale hide sparkling in the light. Contraction comes and then she's crouching and Ringed Gaseous Giant Egg reluctantly appears on the sand, rolling to start its slow orbit across the grainy surface.

Hannah watches the next egg emerge from her lifemate, commenting, "Now that is more like it. It's a bit more," she pauses, "colorful. And you're right, it is lighter." Bending over, she examines her shoe, flicking off the hot grains of sands that happen to make her foot quite uncomfortable. "I have to get something to stand on.. or sit on. This is hard to bear," is muttered down to her foot.

Dhiammarath stabilizes the rolling positioning it slightly to one side of perfect central to her odd formation. One end does touch center as she, herself, orbits it for a moment, in contemplative meditation. Once around, for the auspices of Health. Twice around, for the kindness of Luck. Three times around, for wholeness of Being.

Dhiammarath splays her wings and crouches towards the heat of the soft sand. Methodically designing a suitable trench with her fore talons, she encircles the spot once and exhales her impatience with a feral snort. Let this be done with. Muscle contractions horizontally shimmy down her sides, leaving an egg of perfectly rotund proportions lying exactly as she desires. Such is the entrance of the Moons of Saturn Egg into the complex setup of her clutch arrangement.

Hannah moves toward the stone wall in an attempt to rescue her feet and comments, "I like that egg." As the time passes, she finds her mind drifting from her lifemate's work and her own self discoveries.

Dhiammarath then resumes her orbit, only much tighter now, pausing only to neaten the sands and nudge Moons of Staurn against it's sibling. The next two she brings into existance do not quite touch center but are set at perpendicular with the two huge centerpieces of her unusual formation.This set of four echoing the first only the pointing to the vastness between the cardinal points. They are diametrically oposed, one bright blue the other a more somber hue of crimson, a new born star to a dying one, beggining to end.

Hannah lifts an eyebrow at the pale queen, "What are you making?" She steps closer to formation, as close as she dares, but does not cross the line.

Dhiammarath once more expands her orbit, and yet her pattern is offset, as she weaves through the sand, as if deeply involved in an ancient dance. First, at northwest, a wavering thing, seeming to alternate between sky blue and sea green, intensifying and diming like a pulsar on a clear night. She traverses to northeast, where her next offering makes itself known, glittering irridecent like commet. As she comes to face the galleries all those watching are eyed then treated to a respectful bow. before she moves on, the starburst pattern starting to take form, as the blazing glory of a super nova, twined reds and dark shadows mingle with lighter shades of fire. She does not answer, simply lets the pattern speak for itself, and yet even she pauses after laying a single mercurial egg, to inspect her work. Giving it an almost curious look as if the pattern were shaping her, not the other way around.

Dhiammarath once more revolves to the far side of her work, this time approaching her pillars. She does not orbit. She does not wait. Time grows short. She pauses back by the solar eclipse, and waits. The palatable press of /time/ holding her to the patern she has created, as if through it, destiny could be achieved.

Dhiammarath moves to the next patch of sand and begins circling, searching for that perfect spot, careful not to disturb her pattern thus far. Wings are gingerly extended, a curtain drawn across the star of the performance, and when they are drawn back, the Spiral Galaxy Egg lies in her wake, catching the jeweled highlights of the pale queen's hide.

Hannah's eyebrows shoot up, "A bunch there, lovey." Dancing a little as her feet are cooked even more, she allows her lifemate to do her thing.

Dhiammarath gently nudges the galactic egg to its sibling's side, and once more moves on. The rhythem of the song increasing. The beat of the dance growing ever more urgent. She prowls around Footprints on the moon egg and lays down another offering. Dusty and shimmering, indistinct and vague. Neither light nor dark, simply shadowed, like eternal twilight.

Dhiammarath does circle the Darkside of the Moon, egg, almost dubiously, as if somehow doubting her own instinct, if only for a brief moment. Then it's companion comes forth and there can be no more doubt. A blue green hemisphere fades sharply back to a star spangled sky, a gentle reminder of home, a peaceful contrast to it's more sinister neighbor.

Dhiammarath nods once satisfied and moves towards the back, towards teh only pillar that is yet without a companion, without another sentinal. She stares at, as if in deep debate about something, but the pattern will not be thwarted, and once more the pale gold surrenders to her own destiny.

Dhiammarath seems to shrink in on herself, as if every extremity is fighting an inexorable pull toward a point somewhere within her body; muscles contract in a final expulsive effort, her hide dimming with the difficult clutching. Inescapable Darkness Egg slowly, reluctantly emerges from the young queen. The sand seems to move of it's own accord as the heavy egg sinks into the black sands,as if succumbing to gravitational attraction. Soon, the egg is covered by force of it's own weight until it is visible only as a small heap of sand marring the careful design of it's mother.

Hannah brushes the sweat-dampened hair out of her eyes and turns to idly watch the clutching. Feeling a little uncomfortable, goldrider inquires, "How many more, do you think Dhiammarath?" She's been squeamish lately, "These sands are hot.."

Dhiammarath croons to hannah, tiredly, before she uncoils into her next round. As if to say soon… very soon. She moves back towards the center, to complete the pattern, to hold it together… to complicate it. She intersperses her next charges amoungst her older ones. Mirror images of each other, and yet subtley different. Like four of the seven pliedies, leaving it to those who observe to sort them out, and fathom their pact.

Dhiammarath> And the end has come, with almost wistful care, Dhiammarath leaves her odd temple in the sand. There is yet one more task to complete. Her bulk blocks some of the galleries as if deliberatly, as she makes her way to the farthest corner of the sands. There are somethings kept in secret, and somethings kept in light, until now everything has been in the open… things change.

And the end has come, with almost wistful care, Dhiammarath leaves her odd temple in the sand. There is yet one more task to complete. Her bulk blocks some of the galleries as if deliberatly, as she makes her way to the farthest corner of the sands. There are somethings kept in secret, and somethings kept in light, until now everything has been in the open… things change.

Dhiammarath gives a shiver and a disdainful draconic snort, hid rippling over tensed muscles as she lumbers to the outskirts of her labored designs upon the sands. Another shiver as the faint contraction announces the arrival of Planet X Egg, forever on the edges of the platinum queen's methodical clutch arrangement. Though really, the only way that one can be certain the runt sphere is indeed an egg would be the fact that it's just been laid by the queen.

Hannah ooohs softly at the little one, "Ooh, I like that one. Even if it is small." Suddenly a thought occurs to her, "It's not small because of that poisoning you had several turns ago, is it? It'll hatch.. right?"

Dhiammarath croons reasurance to hannah, only to hiss and fan her wings, as the sentinals for the littlest egg make themselves known. Glinting like steel armor is one, snow white as the pegesus's mane flows the other, forever, Belerephon and his mount. Dhiammarath removes herself hastily from the alcove, scooping sand before the trio to hold them in place… perhaps, or perhaps as a ward. The great pale gold stretches herself outabout the clutch her head by the three, her tail curled around reaching to the outer edge of her temple, clearly deliniating that whomso ever may come later, this is /her/ protectorate. And without her permision none may pass.

You think to Dhiammarath, » Are you done, love? Last eggies? «

You sense Dhiammarath afirms tiredly. »It is done. We shall see what becomes of them.«

Hannah raises her eyebrows at her lifemate but then dismisses the gold's touchy attitude. "This is it?" Receiving the affirmative response, she turns to the galleries and shouts out, "Twenty-three eggs total!" before scurrying back to her lifemate, hiding from the crowd.

[End of Log]

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License