Logfile from Harpers Tale M'rgin.
Taya's Inner Sanctum
Another set of drapes, this time purple in colour, lead into Taya's personal section of the weyr. It's painted slightly differant, more of a purple blue takes over the room, almost reflecting the after glow of Rukbats final rays. A large rug is settled in the middle of the room, which also has shells at chest height in the same manner as in her outer weyr. This rooms is sparse in furniture, really consists of few peices. One of these peices is a wooden dresser, across from the bed and bed table, which is also wooden. The bed is large and covered in tan and blue bedding, which appears rather thick and comfortable. In one of the corners, not too far from the hearth that is present, is a… [look closer]
It is a summer evening.
To the north, you see a brown dragon.
You see Tay's bed here.
Obvious exits:
Outer weyr
<Ista Weyr> Derwyth senses that Ryazusith blossoms in red, excitement colouring her tone as it unfurls into cherry petals. A hum, so low it resonates begins, and is only paused for the queen to proudly announce. « They hatch. Now. »
Zyrana walks to the Southeastern Bowl.
U'ric walks in.
U'ric walks to the Southeastern Bowl.
Derwyth looks towards the hatching cavern, his eyes fluttering with a wave of yellow green. He stands and looks towards his rider who turns and vaults to the browns back. Derwyth spreads his wings and heads for the
Ledge
So many ledges, so few Hatchings. Ledges both wide and narrow cut shallow perches the length and height of the cavern: some short and crowded, others broad and deep and wide. It doesn't matter, for each offers a distinctive view of the caverns below, the sands that fill it, and the clutch — should there be one — somewhere beneath those heated grains of earth.
Near the galleries the ledges are most numerous, broad and scarred by countless dragons depositing dignitaries and riders. Smaller ledges and the ocassional well-kept ladder or tricky stone step connect one to the next and so on out around the cavern.
Gliding about is a blue firelizard.
Blue Valanth is here.
Obvious exits:
Galleries Fly
From the hatching sands, The Imprisoned Wolf Egg gives a shudder, rocking enough to widen the imprint it's made in the Sands.
Derwyth lands gently and nods to Valenth as he settles himself to watch.
From the hatching sands, Sorcha steps out of the loose bow formation, one of the first to strike out away from the main group. There's a touch of panic in her eyes, much like the others, and she seeks to calm herself by looking for familiar faces - Minka, of course.. D'baji, right there with the other Candidates, and.. A familiar rumble reaches her ears, and its relaxing effect is visible. She turns to see Azmaioth watching, and then quickly finds R'yn, who receives a nervous grin. That done, she settles in beside Siren and a few friends, watching the eggs carefully.
From the hatching sands, Paths and Crossroads Egg just kinda stays there. Still and silent, paitently awaiting it's turn in the limelight.
From the hatching sands, Cheyanna looks tense and unhappy as she walks onto the sands. She gives her standard deep bow to gold and bronze, then circles uneasily towards the eggs. She doesn't seem inclined to cling especially to any of the other candidates; mostly her eyes turn to the galleries, seeking the possible comfort of familiar faces.
From the hatching sands, Ryran finishes bowing with the group and feels the sweat droplets running down the sides of his face. He's about ready to have a melt down, so, he prods the first person he sees, which happens to be Corona. "Need some company?" Eh heh. /He/ needs some company.
Otyliath comes up from the galleries looking for a dragon — I know I parked around here somewhere.
From the hatching sands, Syseron stands up from his bow, his eyes falling from the clutch parents to the eggs, a determined look on his face. He steps forward curiously, eyeing the other candidates and trying to stay upright as a shuffling bunch of clinging girls bumps into him. "We… should probably spread out a little bit, you know…" He mutters quietly at the girls and follows Sorcha's lead away from the crowd a little. He turns back and looks to see what Avery is doing.
From the hatching sands, Tane Mahuta Egg gives one solid rock before going back into dormancy.
From the hatching sands, The Imprisoned Wolf Egg pitches forward, the red of the shell flashing out ominously as a large crack finally splits the darkness. Heralded by a draconic howl, an angular grayish nose emerges from the depths of the egg. The dragonet's sinewy, ill-proportioned body slides almost frantically from the remains of the egg, a whip of the stubby tail flinging the last shards to the side.
From the hatching sands, Raider of the Lost Swamp Green Dragonet
From the hatching sands, Dimmed shades of grey and green leach and ooze across her sinewy, muscle-clumped frame. Headknobs tinged with a dirt-frosted blues squash onto a sharply angular head. A short, wide neck, highlighted with irregular swipes of pallid yellow and somewhat darker greens, leads into strong, bulky, verdant-pocked shoulders. Grey-tipped talons taper off of grass-stained too-short limbs, which in turn are sharply juxtaposed with a much elongated body. Short, blocky wings, brushed at the joints with splashes of fetid crimson, look less than flight-worthy, an effect worsened by the jaundiced glow of the wingsails. Hints of faded cerulean seep into oily pools of sickly yellow-green along rectangular 'ridges along her back. A giant splotch of noxious yellow swamp gas ends a stubby tail that looks to have been pushed forward on her body, giving the appearance of a slightly hunched back, and a slightly round, and misplaced, underbelly.
From the hatching sands, Aisling hobbles carefully on her broken sandal, trying to make sure it stays between her and the hot sands. She finds a small opening between two candidates and gently elbows her way in so she can have a view of the eggs.
From the hatching sands, Aylara sighs as her stomach gives a nervous rumble. Her eyes dart to the clutch, then to the clutch parents, then to those around her. The room seems to spin without spinning and all of a sudden, after the weeks and weeks of candidacy, she feels nervous. So nervous in fact, that she feels slightly ill. But she forces her wayward body into line and watches as the first eggs begin to wiggle. She's captivated by the sight, but she tears her eyes away to search for someone, a certain trader. She doesn't seem to find Apholone, so she looks back to the eggs, standing slightly alone.
From the hatching sands, Faulk is one of those standing alone, arms partially folded, eyes directed at the eggs with apparent boredom, only a slight twitch in his heels betraying any nervousness. Or perhaps, that's heat. When the dragonet bursts out, though, he pays his respects by taking a swift step backward.
From the hatching sands, Talara grins as she walks out onto the sands, glancing first at the eggs and then towards the galleries. She wants to try and find people she may know up there, but there's so many faces, and the eggs just that more interesting at the moment, she doesn't take enough time to spot anyone out. Instead she turns around to catch sight of fellow candidates.
From the hatching sands, Corona straightens from her bow to bounce from foot to foot. For once, it's not out of excitement but rather from the heat. She's too scared to be excited, now that the big day is here. Her eyes are wide as she stares all about her, from dragon mother to dragon father, even at the crowd gathering behind them. "Yes, Ryran, I'm scared," she states, grabbing the man's hand and clinging desperately to it.
From the hatching sands, Rivellis rises from his bow and allows his eyes to fall instantly on the eggs. Well, this is it! A hand reaches up to wipe away a bit of sweat from the candidates brow as a glance is shot towards his fellow candidates. "Shards, I can't stop shaking!" Arms are held out in front of him so as to prove his point to anyone who actually cares.
From the hatching sands, Ryran eyes the eggs around him and can't seem to slow his pulse one bit. In fact, he practically goes into a heap when one of the eggs actually hatches and out pops a green dragonet. Corona's hand is squeezed and he points to it. "Look!"
From the hatching sands, "They're always /so/ nervous. Kinda funny, ain' it?" N'ano asides to whatever riders are within earshot as he stands towards the back, rubbing at his chin contemplatively. "You'd think with /all/ of the practice they've gotten, they'd be calm as cucumbers by now!" As if. "Corona! Stand up straight, girl!" Really, it was encouragement. And to Ryran, he shouts out "Bring one home, boy! Not that green though!" He's not prejudice, no.
From the hatching sands, Neasan has barely had time to bow before the Imprisoned Wolf Egg, one he was positive would hatch bronze, hatches… And the thing within is green. He stares in surprise for a moment before huhing softly. "I was /sure/ there was a bronze in that egg. There's a sixteenth gone." Then he shrugs a bit, glancing at Rivellis to see how the boy reacts to the hatching of the 'evil' egg. "Going to be a major handful for whoever gets her." His eyes immediately flick back to the hatchling to see who the 'lucky' person might be, all the while shifting his weight and trying to cover his own nervousness.
From the hatching sands, Sapha watches curiously. Swaying from foot to foot in the heat of the sands. He doesn't join in the speculation, but rather waits with the same set of his shoulder, and the same glaze in his eyes.
From the hatching sands, Relyssa gulps as she straightens from her bow, looking over the clutch. She purses her lips together, determination masking the gut-wrenching fear and anxiety she's feeling. A drop of sweat rolls down her spine, sending a shudder through her body. The redhead blinks and glances around at her fellow candidates before stepping away a bit— right into another candidate. Mumbling her apologies, the girl frowns in the direction of the clutch. Cursing her short stature, she stands up on her toes in an effort to see over some tall person's shoulder.
From the hatching sands, Siren has connected.
From the hatching sands, Cheyanna's arms fold tightly and defensively across her chest as she edges sideways, semicircling away from the others to leave more room. As Syseron edges vaguely near her, she offers him a tight, uneasy smile. And then, in a row near the front of the galleries, she spots a familiar face. Her expression brightens instantly, and she lifts a hand in a wave — that attention is swiftly knocked away by the arrival of the first dragonet. She swallows, stands her ground.
From the hatching sands, D'baji, off on the sidelines, waiting to haul off the newly-Impressed, promptly smacks himself on the forehead with an open hand. "Good," is murmured to any AWLMs within earshot. "'Ver's daughter is hideous."
From the hatching sands, Isabeau walks out onto the sands.
From the hatching sands, Minka is proudly stationed at the edge of the sands, watching, and returning her own nod to each candidate as they troop past. She leans against a foreleg of Ryazusith, arm hung loosely across the offered support. She grins as the first egg hatches, patting the queen's hide with excitement, "Look, a healthy.. green!" Healthy, if not pretty. Well, perhaps in time. Minka focuses now, seeking out familiar candidates, and certain friends. She finds Sor, shooting the girl a reassuring grin.
M'rgin has a slight smirk to his expression as he watches the hatching from high above.. He's seen the last one, and his own.. so he's sorta getting used to being on this end of things, but what he's not prepared for, is the sight of the first dragonnet that bursts from the shell.. "Faranth! That one looks awefulll.." he grimaces.
From the hatching sands, Sorcha jumps in fright as a green appears - after all, it was green Laith who caused all the trouble last time. Her eyes flicker nervously up at R'yn, and she's reassured by his presence once again. Her chin lifts slightly, and she takes a step closer to Siren and the other candidates. "Ooh, what a little mutant," she says with a giggle. "Like one of those canines, you know - so ugly, it's cute? Wonder if they're all gonna be like that."
Taya slides from Otyliath's neck and lands gently on the ground.
From the hatching sands, Corona is standing close to straight, though she has pulled Ryran's entire arm to her chest and wrapped both arms around as she moves closer to her almost brother. She peeks over her shoulder at N'ano's words, before shaking her head quickly, fearfully at the green. "No, I can't ride green!" She tells Ry, attempting to hide herself behind him without giving up his arm.
Taya chuckles a little as she just catches M'rgin's comment. "Regretably I agree, but I'm sure that whoever she Impresses will be quite smitten with her," is noted by the greenrider.
From the hatching sands, Avery clings to the last bastion of sanity in the suddenly narrowed perspective of hot sands, nervous candidates, and rocking eggs. Her fingers clasped in the comforting embrace of a friend's hand, she rocks from foot to foot. She takes a deep breath, taking her nerves in hand, and looks up at Syseron to gauge his reaction.
From the hatching sands, Rogue's Courage Egg shimmers golden and tangerine, offsetting and overpowering the obsidian. The shakes that have overpowered it grow ever more violent until a muzzle pokes itself through the reddest part of the orb and the shell explodes, sending shards left and right and abandoning Knight of the Rose Blue Dragonet within this world.
From the hatching sands, Knight of the Rose Blue Dragonet
From the hatching sands, Murky eddies of turquoise swirl along the skeletal thinness of this young dragon, twisting and winding midst grays and tans as if his hide were marked by the waters of a desert pool and then bleached under a midday sun. Bluer sky reflections sweep from unusually pale oculars to the expanse of a staunch neck, only to give way to a sunworn cadet blue at the apex of shoulders, and across oddly creased-looking wings. This faded hue drifts along a slim back, touching every well-formed 'ridge, only to be reclaimed by sandy tides along his sides and stomach. Emaciated ribs emulate submerged driftwood, seeming ready to poke from the hide at any moment. There isn't an ounce of bulkiness on this blue; he looks as if his entire body has been honed to nothing but the essentials. Even the largeness of his seemingly dust-spattered paws do nothing to detract from his overall thinness, their mismatched size itself somehow fitting, as is the length of his formidable whiplash tail.
From the hatching sands, Aylara is quite literally shocked when her favorite egg spits out a green. She has to smile though, the green is lovely. Though, not her coice. SHe can't help but feel sorry for the green, whom everyone seems to hate, and it shows on her face. Didn't anyone around here know what the word compassion meant? She gives a slight encouraging sound towards the green and nods a congrads to Ryazusith.
From the hatching sands, Ryran can hear N'ano's voice in the distance, which seems to bring him comfort.. slightly. In fact, it causes him to take a deep breath to try and focus a little better at what exactly is going on. He can practically feel the eyes on him as he looks up at the crowds for a moment before returning his gaze to the eggs around him. "Faranth, it's hot." Corona is then nudged a little. "Stay with me, girl. You need to catch me if I faint." Wink. "Try to relax.." Easier said than done, yes. Oy.
From the hatching sands, Raider of the Lost Swamp Green Dragonet knows what it is she wants, and is immediately lurching towards a pair of female candidates. The awkward movements across the Sands come off to be almost a swagger.
M'rgin nods… "Unfortunately… " he trys looking innocent as soon as he gets that out, but Derwyths look betrays the man.
From the hatching sands, Syseron tears his eyes away from the green and looks over at Rivellis, chuckling to himself. "Well, it happens to the best of us." He scratches the back of his neck for a moment and turns his gaze back to the green. "Careful or you'll wave your arms around enough to call the green over to you." Chey is nodded to before he exhales and relaxes a little. When he looks over at Avery once more, he smiles a little. "It'll be ok, Ave. Just relax and try not to let your feet burn."
From the hatching sands, Talara stops in her tracks as the first egg hatches and she lets out a gasp. She turn to Rivellis at his comment and grins. "I know. Kinda scary to be back isn't it?" Nope, no snide remarks here. She looks back towards the green hatchling, and smiles widely. "First one!" Duh. Then as another egg hatches she jerks her head around and towards the blue, but gets distracted as the green goes on the move.
From the hatching sands, Lzi definitely wasn't expecting to get dragged onto the sands to help out, but there she is nonetheless. Even if being on the sands is definitely bringing back old memories, she has to maintain her grouchy exterior. Well, except for a wink she shoots to Ryran for reasons only those could know about before arms are crossed, looking over the batch of eggs and hatching dragonets. "Ugly bunch," she mutters mainly to herself, eyes narrowing.
From the hatching sands, Siren moves closer to Sorcha, snorting somewhat distainfully. "That one there makes even Cadge look pretty. Or, like, normal." Palms are wiped against the fabric of her robe, and she shifts her weight from first the right foot, to the left.
From the hatching sands, Faulk flicks his eyes to the side, and to the other side, and takes another step back. Then, flick, flick, another step back. On the third flick, his eyes rest on Cheyanna for one heartbeat and flick away again. To the green. Who is going in another direction. Nonetheless, one more step back.
From the hatching sands, Imperial Book of Etiquette Egg lingers in the background, shuddering and creaking, a scattered series of wiggles following.
Taya chuckles and moves to poke M'rg's side. "M'rgin, be nice, they're all lovely in their own rights. I'm sure that Der and Oty weren't gorgeous when they hatched, at least not in everyone's eyes…" in Tay's eyes, though, Oty was the most beautiful green, by far.
From the hatching sands, Syke shakes his head, the reality of his situation finally becoming apparent. With a small squeek he heads off towards a bunch of girls. "Mind if I tag along?" He asks of Siren and Sorcha
From the hatching sands, Raider of the Lost Swamp Green Dragonet's short legs move in double-time as she confidently hurdles her way across the remaining distance between herself and her chosen companion. A sharp bark to ensure she has her candidate's attention announces her arrival at the young woman's side, where she gazes challengingly into Siren's eyes.
From the hatching sands, Rivellis takes a single, involuntary step back as yet another dragonet hatches. "I think you'd be good on that green Talara. Since you're so ugly and all." A mocking glance is shot at his fellow candidate before he turns back to the action on the sands. "Blue and green? Shards, there goes a half mark!"
From the hatching sands, Knight of the Rose Blue Dragonet looks around, shaking shell fragments from an angular muzzle. He is not daunted by the sea of white through which he must make his way. With a stirring of paws, he sets out on his life's journey.
M'rgin nods and shrugs.. "Yea, but.. Derwyth wasn't /UGLY/! he blurts out. Derwyth rumbles in dissaproval of his riders comments and eyes him.
From the hatching sands, Neasan is far too brave to cling to anyone, but still, he wouldn't mind having someone to talk to, as the dragons hatch. The boy shifts somewhat, moving closer to Rivellis to offer more of his weyrbrat wisdom. He keeps half an eye on the green, mostly to make sure she's not coming to him. As the dragonet pauses before Siren, he lets out a sigh of relief, devoting his attention to the blue instead. If he's going to Impress anything, it'll be blue for sure.
From the hatching sands, Sorcha is about to respond, but suddenly the green is upon them and Siren's.. what? "/That's/ your dragon? I should've called it!" she squeals happily, throwing an arm around her pal's shoulders and giving a quick squeeze before backing away, giving her some breathing room. "Shards. S'pose I owe D'baji a mark or two, now. And I was gonna buy myself a wine skein after all this, too.." Mumbling to herself, she looks for someone else to buddy up with. Gotta have someone to put between her and those psychotic hatchlings, after all.
From the hatching sands, Relyssa looks around once more, her frown increasing as she looks over as Siren Impresses the green. Momentarily forgetting the anxiety that's made her palms sweaty even as her fingers are cold as ice, she grins and almost bounces before going back to trying to see over the taller candidates. She shifts about, trying to find a group of smaller people she can see over.
From the hatching sands, Mirror of the Moon Egg shudders a bit, as if fighting some internal urge, but fails - quakes taking hold of it's surface.
From the hatching sands, Methodically, a small bronze dragonet emerges from the Winged Serpent Egg after sending bits and pieces of shrapnel egg shards in every direction. A quick shiver through his body discards the remaining debris before he takes a hesitant step in the direction of a couple of females. Helloooooo nurse! …nurses? Hi. Okay, he's starving. They won't do. As if on a dime, the bronze spins, heading in the opposite direction towards one lone boy; a curly, black-haired boy from Igen Hold. In sync, the young boy kneels down, hands outstretched towards the dragonet who steps up towards him, crooning with each nuzzle offered. "Animaniath! I knew it! I knew you were there!" Alas, an impression has been made and Mc'doo is Perns newest bronzerider.
From the hatching sands, Siren stares, dubiously, into the green's eyes. And, then, not so dubiously: "Fugly dr— Iqiazath! Her name is Iqiazath!" She stumbles forward, hands outstretched — and then withdrawn. "Gawds, you're ugly. C'mon, let's go get you some food."
From the hatching sands, Tane Mahuta Egg wakes up and starts to shake with a little more force now than just a mere wiggle. It's rocking forcibly from side to side, determined.
From the hatching sands, Aisling shifts the one foot, then leaving her sandal on the ground, shifts the other before quickly setting it back down before the shoe gets lost in the shuffle. Momentarily she borrows the elbow next to her for balance before quickly retracting it back to her sides.
From the hatching sands, Talara shoots a glare at Rivellis but quickly loses it since well, there's a lot more interesting things going on than dealing with him. Like, oh, maybe dragonets? She takes a deep breath in order to calm her annoyance as well as nerves. They're everywhere! She turns her head around to catch sight of the green just as Siren impresses. "Look Riv! Siren impressed!" She points, grinning gleefully.
From the hatching sands, Oh, blast. Now there's more of them, which makes it harder to guard against all of them. Cheyanna's eyes are flickering back and forth between them, shoulders rigid. When the green Impresses to Siren, she flinches involuntarily, then looks back at the blue, her fingers twitching with nervous energy. Her gaze flickers to Faulk, and she — lo and behold — sidles over towards him uneasily. "Are you hoping to Impress, not to Impress, or to be killed by one of them?" she asks in a mutter, tone acerb.
From the hatching sands, Sin has disconnected.
Taya just shakes her head a little. "The green'll grow into her looks, she's still young," she points out with a chuckle. "I mean, she did just hatch. And, no, Der was never ugly," she pauses as she see's the impression. "Aww, Iqiazith is a nice name, though…" she's stretching, just a little.
From the hatching sands, Knight of the Rose Blue Dragonet has made it to the far side of the sands by now. His eyes, oddly pale, raise to appraise the folks in the stands. No. No good. His is not there. Not on the sands either, by the look of it… or maybe. Maybe. Yes. There. Turning in a fluid movement, the young blue stalks back in the direction he came.
From the hatching sands, Ryran blinks a few times when he actually witnesses Siren Impress the green hatchling. This causes him to cheer before a twitching egg close by startles him causes him to shriek like a girl. That is, until he quickly regains his composure and clears his throat. No one heard that. "Hey, look.. a bronze and a blue." Ahem.
From the hatching sands, Corona may not like Siren much, but things are better since they've been in candidacy together. At the very least, she pulls just far enough away from Ryran's arm to bounce up and down and hollar, "CONGRATS SIREN!!" Ok, so the excitement has momentarily broken through the freight, which is a good sign. It allows her to back off of Ryran a little, as she watches the blue to see where he goes and who is next.
From the hatching sands, Ah-Puch Egg twitches, all but imperceptibly, and then stills, fading into the background.
From the hatching sands, Syke blinks as impression occurs bare feet away from his location. "Woah." He mumbles before wincing. That's one ugly green dragonet.
From the hatching sands, "There goes a great mind. Ruined. Absolutely ruined," Faulk sighs in Siren's direction as she goes and gets herself all bonded. And, hello, what is this? Faulk sidesteps more out of surprise than aversion to Cheyanna's all being there. He clears his throat and sidesteps back. Didn't move at all, here. "I'm really not sure. You?"
From the hatching sands, Aylara is lightheaded with all the excitement as her stomach turns when two have impressed. She's overwhelmed with joy for them and lets it be known with a cheer or two. But then as if hypnotized her eyes are right back on the sands. She has her fingers crossed and everything. Though she does idle a little more towards the group of people. It would be nice to have someone to talk to. She idles very close to Riv and Syseron.
From the hatching sands, Mirror of the Moon Egg jingles slightly, and tips awkwardly to one side, movement fluttering within a dark shadow casting itself against the walls of silvered pattern. All of a sudden, it falls into silence. Lines begin to crack across its form like storm frenzied lightening, jagged edges traveling with alarming speed through to meet at its very base. The pieces hang together momentarily as if stuck by some invisible force, then shatter into the air with a series of audible snaps. Reserved, and unhurried, The Pretty Soldier Green Dragonet unfurls from her slumber and emerges into the world.
From the hatching sands, The Pretty Soldier Green Dragonet
From the hatching sands, Midnights light casts itself atop this greens rounded hide, curling in frost-blown beams to cup chubby cheekbones, descending into a muzzle of ivy-concealment. Head knobs exist in an unusual round shape, yellowed in lime encirclement. Shattered rays of the moon refract and are sent forth, falling like shooting stars over a backdrop of viridian. Lighter patches of wind-whisked olive dart amongst a wash of woodland, falling to snow-worshipped drifts that coat pudgy forelegs. The same shaft of light falls across her torso and descends into verdant underbelly, returning once more to forest stirrings and mottled by the chance fall of luminous leaves. Her tail winds in a final salute of jade, a faint stir of starlit kisses sprinkled atop her hide, dissipating once more into a silvered tail-tip.
From the hatching sands, Isabeau reaches where her pendant normally hangs to fiddle with it, and drops her hadn again remembering it's not ther. She clasps her hands behind her back for the moment looks to Neasan, "Don't worry about the bet… just yet. I'm sure yo've got more comming…" She nodded to the hatchlings.
From the hatching sands, D'baji moves to meet Siren- err, Sin- and Iqiazath, ushering them a ways before handing them off to L'nin and the awaiting slabs of meat. And then Deb's back, with a quick check to make sure Sorcha's still intact before his attention drifts towards the newly-hatched, and, "Not so ugly," dragonets.
From the hatching sands, Neasan smiles faintly as the first dragon Impresses. "Congradulations, Siren," he calls, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He gives a little shrug to Isabeau, "I thought that one was bronze, I really did." His eyes glance over the rest of the candidates, as if trying to work out which one might be next, while waiting to see where the blue will go. "Another green," he murmurs with the most recent hatching.
From the hatching sands, Cheyanna casts a dark look sidelong at Faulk, then says, "Well, I'm rooting for no fatalities," she says. "I… dunno." She shifts nervously, her eyes tracking the dragons, plucks at her robe (sticking with sweat to her torso), and says, "If one of them runs at you, I'm moving away fast." Friendly warning.
From the hatching sands, Rivellis glances down a bit to find none other than Neasan! "Where'd you ceom from kid? I thought you were…somewhere else! Talk to Talara or something, since you think she's cute and all." A glance is sent in Sin's direction as she impresses her green. Another lost mark! Boy, someone wasn't doing too well on the betting game thus far!
From the hatching sands, Avery smiles up at Syseron, one foot shuffling through the sand despite the heat. She gives his hand a squeeze, then peers out across the uneven grounds. "I'm okay."
From the hatching sands, Knight of the Rose Blue Dragonet slides over the sands with effortless grace, his unusual eyes trained on a certain dark-haired lad. Yes. Yes, he will do. Letting out a quiet, joyful croon, he stands at full height and raises his wings behind him in elegant greeting. His quest will never end, but at least he's found a soulmate to share it with: Syke.
From the hatching sands, Relyssa sidles up to Rivellis and gives him an elbow in the ribs and a dazzling smile after glancing at the dragonets. "How're you doing in the betting so far, Riv?"
From the hatching sands, Tane Mahuta Egg gives one good rock and a crack forms in its shell, splintering more and more with every shake. It won't be long now.
From the hatching sands, Syke is suddenly lost in the eyes of the blue dragonet at his side. Finally remembering to breathe he exhales "Saikath" He chokes. "He says his name is Saikath!" is said more confidently by Ista's newest dragonrider.
From the hatching sands, "What? You're not going to lay down your life for me?" Faulk splays his fingers, palms up, his shoulders turned slightly outward. "Oh. Hello, another one — another one lost." Another sigh. "Will any of us walk out with our minds our ooown, I wonder?"
From the hatching sands, Aylara sidles closer to Rivellis more than anything and tilts her head towards him. "Two greens and a blue so far, what do you think will come out next?" Her nerves are all in her voice as she stares at the clutch, hoping her lifemate is there…somewhere. She sighs and idles from foot to foot, nodding a silent hello to Neasan.
From the hatching sands, Ryran doesn't show much emotion while standing next to Corona and trys to remain like a rock for her. Inside, he's about ready to go into a pile. After a few deep breaths, he manages to focus on the dragonets around him. "Another green." Point. "See?" he asks Corona. Ooh, another Impression. "Way to go, Syke!"
From the hatching sands, Talara watches Siren be led off the sands, almost in a trance before she turns towards Rivellis, raising an eyebrow at him. "You just don't stop /do/ you Riv?" Grr. Her eyes are drawn first by Syke's impressionwhich gets a grinand then by another green. Oh, pretty! She grins and nudges Rivellis. "Hey, an improvement from Siren's ya think?" She giggles.
From the hatching sands, Syseron raises an eyebrow when Siren insults her dragon and gets escorted off the sands. "Well, that works." He settles back into a stoic state and watches the blue and the new green begin wandering. He nods at Avery and looks back to Faulk and Cheyanna. Sometimes, the candidates really are more interesting to watch. "Oy! Congrats, Syke!" He speaks up and actually shouts his congrats to the new bluerider.
From the hatching sands, The Pretty Soldier Green Dragonet lies unceremoniously upon the ground, staring up at her surrounding with a heavy-lidded gaze. A muted creel follows, and she shifts to her belly, casting a wandering, and somewhat wide-eyed look about the sands, instantly locking onto the white-clad creatures. Tilting a bit, chubby body is hoisted from the ground. Adjusting to her new lease in movement, the green tests the sand slightly, pawing it - then briskly shaking her body to let loose the sand already caked upon her glistening hide.
From the hatching sands, Corona is now bouncing rather consistently, between the heart of the sands and her happiness. "Sykeeee!" She screeches, likely breaking her hatching-partner's eardrums. "He got a blue, Ryran!" She squeezes his arm in a hug of delight, finding it easier and easier to forget her fears as her friends Impress. "I don't want green and you don't either, right, Ry? So we've got to run away if she comes over here."
From the hatching sands, "If I were a dragonet and felt that from you, I might just charge on principle," Cheyanna mutters at Faulk, not fully joking. "You should have just gone home. Maybe I should, too." She shifts back a step as a dragon moves in a line just slightly closer than perpendicular to her; her nerves are showing.
From the hatching sands, Aisling winces as her feet slowly cook, one would think with all the time they spent out here their feet might, just might be used to this by now, but no, it's always the same baking on the sands. "What color do you think will hatch next?" idle conversation with her neighbor.
From the hatching sands, Tane Mahuta Egg begins to disintegrate with every single shake, the slivers in its shell becoming deeper and longer, pulsing vehemently. A fissure appears near the apex, a small snout poking its way out, smelling out the new world. Soon enough, Heart of the Desert Brown Dragonet pushes the rest of its head and whole body out of its warm home, stretching languidly with a low croon. Egg pieces stuck to his body aren't bothered with at the moment, since he has something more important on his mind: FOOD!
From the hatching sands, Heart of the Desert Brown Dragonet
From the hatching sands, Gusting from sulphur tipped eyeridges to rust laden tail, unrelenting ochre dusts his length with a pervasive tenacity. Inescapable, the fierce brilliance of his hide only dims in the midnight iridescence of his redoubtable talons. He is wrought by harsh and unforgiving angles as sharp as his coloration, unusual in scope and surprisingly prominent. From the dune-like expanse of his spine, spiky bleached ridges create a distinctive silhouette against the sunset sails and skeletal spars of his wings. Spitfire eyes nestle darkly with in a craggy face, shadowed in umber as if etched by the wind itself.
From the hatching sands, Sorcha shifts from foot to foot, alone now on the sands. Eggs crack left and right, and the excitement is almost numbing. Curiously, she turns to look at Minka, looking for some sort of reassurance, though the poor goldrider is probably swamped in Ryazusith's maternal gushings. "Brown," she murmurs, keeping mental tally. "I'm up two marks, at least." No dragonet, but two marks. She can live with that. For now.
From the hatching sands, Ah-Puch Egg gives a more confident wriggle, rolling a little ways down the mini-dune upon which it'd been sitting.
From the hatching sands, "Let them charge. I will prove my bravery by standing my ground," Faulk scoffs and flips his hand out. "I'm not actually worried. I live one day at a time, one moment at a time — but if you're concerned, we can go walk off the sands right now, can't we?"
From the hatching sands, Ryran grins at Corona and nods. "Alright, we'll run over there is that green comes near us." Snicker. Yeah, and he'd actually do it, too. Don't put it past him. The brown dragonet is eyed once it's hatched and he heaves a sigh. "I need some water or something." Eh, it'll have to wait.. like, a long time.
From the hatching sands, Aylara jumps as her heart leaps at the sight of the little brown that's just hatched. She involuntarily takes a step forward towards the little dragonette, her arms reaching out as if to hug it from afar. "come on little one…." She murmers, very softly though. Her dream dragon is before her. But she chastises herself for hoping too much. She has no choice in this. She smiles and looks at it and the other eggs. She feels dizzy, things are happening aso fast, but her eyes remain locked on the little brown.
From the hatching sands, "Hah," Cheyanna says. She glances around the sands, then back at Faulk, uncertain. "If I said, 'Let's', what would you actually do?" As an egg nearer to them shivers, she tenses again, but refrains from actually stepping away.
From the hatching sands, Mother of the Depths Egg really begins to rock now, as if an approching squall is slapping up against it's sides.
From the hatching sands, Neasan shrugs his shoulders at Rivellis, nodding back to Aylara. It's getting rather crowded over here, making it difficult for Neasan to see. The boy moves away again, casually getting closer to Isabeau. "A green and a brown. Any guesses who they're for?" The boy is watching his egg, since the Ah-Puch seems to be doing more moving than not. If his dragon is here, it's inside that egg, he's positive.
From the hatching sands, Avery studies each hatchling as he or she emerges. Though her opinions are kept close, she emits mild — perhaps even eager — curiosity with each hatching. One of those could be hers.
From the hatching sands, Jia's whole purpose on the sands is to make sure that the candidates can't just 'walk off'. In fact, a pair of holdbred girls edge towards the door with, quite obviously, this very thought in mind: only to be met with folded arms and a stern gaze by a bluerider who's still upset about her "promotion". Sharded having to feed the dragons, oil the dragons, clean up after the dragons… sharded knot. "Pardon me, ladies," she remarks politely, attempting a smile. "I don't get to leave: you don't either."
From the hatching sands, "Run. I'd even go first. I wouldn't make /you/ make the dash of faith," Faulk says lightly. "But somehow, I think that fleeing the sands would be a tradition if it was, y'know, allowed." He glances at the door. "That girl guarding the door is kind of hot, though."
From the hatching sands, Talara's getting a head rush or something, because whoa, so many eggs hatching and oh so quickly. She wipes her forehead off quickly with her sleeve, or tries to anyway, they're a little short for that. "Shells, forgot how hot it can get out here," she mutters to those closest to her. Namely Rivellis and Neasan. "Guesses?" she inquires, turning her head to Neasan. "Uh…" Maybe she would if her mind wasn't so blank at the moment. "Dunno." She glances between the current hatchlings, shifting her feet in the sand. It's getting hot alright.
From the hatching sands, From within the depths of the Lord of Destruction Egg, a small blue appears, fragile looking from the start. Wings won't cooperate in keeping him balanced, and legs seem asleep from the time spent cramped up in his former niche. Silently, he remains still, save for his slowly turning head as he observes the othersclutchmates, candidates and riders alike. Within seconds, eyes seem to focus on one young girl, barely thirteen turns of age. Their eyes meet and leisurely, the girl makes her way towards her new lifemate. Legs give way beneath her as she collapses in front of him, arms clinging around the dragonets form. "Dartmouth… youre so little!" Alyssia squeaks, her mousy voice barely audible above the gallery crowd and commotion around her.
From the hatching sands, Corona will have to be dragged by Ryran, since she's not letting go, but probably can't keep up with the older boy. "I'm thirsty too. It's so hot in here!" Duh, as if she didn't know that was going to be like that. She does a little bit of dancing, not in the least scared of portraying her emotions. She isn't making any bets on the eggs, but she does point at the green. "I'll bet she's Neasan's! I think he should ride green." And so she told him, too, despite his strong distaste for the color.
From the hatching sands, The Pretty Soldier Green Dragonet is driven, slowly at that, but driven none the less by some internal instinct, towards the candidates. Her steps are slow, talons scraping the surface of the sand and leaving trails in their wake. She pauses, tilting her head now and anxiously swapping gaze from group to group, hesitant in heading towards any group. Though, after a long consideration, she makes a choice and furls drying wings to her midsection, heading towards a certain section of females with a sluggish pace.
From the hatching sands, Heart of the Desert Brown Dragonet shakes off the last bit of shell from his head before he takes it upon himself to look around his new surroundings. So many people. With a playful gleam in his eye, he charges towards one of the male candidates. After the candidate fails to produce a girly scream, he becomes bored with his little game and decides to get down to business. Now…who to play with next?
From the hatching sands, Rivellis takes a moment, no more, to glance at Talara and respond with a, "I don't know," before returning his gaze to the eggs. Yes, hatching dragons were much more interesting than another candidate! Especially one who constantly pestered him! "You think there'll be a gold in this clutch? And how many eggs are left?" Hmmm, still hope.
From the hatching sands, Ryran swallows the lump in his throat as an egg twitches near by. "They sure do have razor sharp talons, eh?" he says while eyeing the egg. "I don't suppose anyone's ever got mauled in recent hatchings.." Maybe he just shouldn't bring it up. He's scaring himself more than anything. "Hmm. Dunno. Bet that green'll go to a girl." he says to Corona.
From the hatching sands, Aylara's eyes remain closed on the brown. She giggles at his charge when he chrages the boys and mentally urges him towards her with muted audible commands. That's her color, her dragon of choice, her dream mate. She sneaks a peak at the other candidates and sighs before letting her eyes land on the lithe brown once more. She takes another step towards him, hoping her advances won't be unwanted.
From the hatching sands, Cheyanna glances over at the door. "Okay," she says of that Jia assessment, her tone very neutral, neither agreeing or condemning. "I just want this over," she says, tense. Her eyes flick to Faulk, and she asks, awkward: "Will you miss this at all? If you don't — they're kind of going for young ones this time, aren't they? Other than Siren, I mean?"
Ikth lands neatly, and furls her wings.
From the hatching sands, "Yes, that's right," Jia remarks, gray eyes narrowed. "Please turn around and head back to the glorious moment where you'll find your darling lifemates." Sarcastic much? Doesn't help that Sahruth lost /another/ flight this morning. Sharded greens. Sharded riders' tempers. As she waxes melanncholic, another candie, this time a young lad, scootches her way. With a toss of dark curls, the bluerider's head is turned towards him. "Now, now. Don't you see the magic that awaits you on the sands? get back. /Now/."
Liza slides from Ikth's neck and lands gently on the ground.
From the hatching sands, Avery watches the pair currently scavenging through the line of white. She gives Syseron's hand a tug and tilts her chin up to make a quiet observation. "Do you think I'll Impress, Ron?"
From the hatching sands, D'baji has led Dartmouth and his rider off the Sands, and returns in time to award Jia an amused little grin. "Way to be," is mentioned to his, uh, minion.
From the hatching sands, Relyssa seems to be getting ignored, so she goes back to peering at the clutch, and the dragonets that are scurrying about. Ducking between two tall lads, Relyssa scurries away, making for the front of the crowd, or at least someplace closer.
From the hatching sands, "You need to learn aesthetic appreciation, Cheyanna. Even /you/ can learn to appreciate a woman in a purely /aesthetic/, /theoretical/ way. Come, look—" Faulk breaks off and looks a little more focused on something besides the sidelines. "Me? Miss what?"
From the hatching sands, Ah-Puch Egg shakes again, the movements becoming calculated and regular. Back and forth. It's building up to something magnificent, no doubt.
From the hatching sands, Corona is getting scared by Ryran's words too. "I think Sorcha got hurt last time, but Eym was on the sands too and I was so scared she'd get hurt." Well, way to go Ryran, you've killed Rona's excitement. The girl inches closer again, holding tighter to Ryran. "Relyssa, come over here with us," she calls, spotting the girl in a momentary glance about.
From the hatching sands, Syseron's widen at the question Avery asks and his eyes avert from the dragonets and the eggs to the young girl beside him. "uuhhh…" he blinks and looks awkward, falling silent and turning red (redder than he already was with the heat from the sands). "Sure, Ave… but, you know… I didn't Impress my first time. You … shouldn't be upset if it doesn't happen." He scratches the back of his neck and looks at the brown once more. "err.. I don't want it to sound like I don't… I just… I … Don't ask me. You can do it. I know you can."
From the hatching sands, Talara glances around. "Uh…don't know that one at the moment either Riv." She's forgotten how to count! Okay, no, not really but she's way to distracted. She bites at her lower lip, and pulls at her robe. She's getting a little nervous or something here. "Still a few more, but they're hatching quick."
From the hatching sands, The Pretty Soldier Green Dragonet pauses in her search. Perhaps tired, or just lazy, she plonks herself down in front of a group of girls a yawn shuddering across her muzzle. Too much effort. A high-pitched creel follows next; this is just all too much work for such a pretty green. She lulls to the side; clumsily erring on a rapidly drying wing sail, and rolls to the right and atop the feet of the perfect one. Talara.
From the hatching sands, Mother of the Depths Egg works itself into frenzy; cracks appear like storm-tossed waves disrupting all from light-tipped apex to seaweed entangled bottom. The cracks increase in size and dimension, groaning and growing until finally culminating in a crescendo of crashing as the shell disintegrates, leaving Equatorial Evolution Blue Dragonet stranded upon the sands.
From the hatching sands, Equatorial Evolution Blue Dragonet
From the hatching sands, A glittering wave of deepest aquamarine spreads over a chiseled muzzle, crashing against the rocky spine of his ridges to set eddies billowing o'er his hide. Across structured shoulders his shade lightens as it ripples outwards, foaming into whitecaps of sky shades that scud across his wings. Sweeping his belly are the deepest tones of the oceans, dappled with cloudy shadows. His curvy flanks are swirled like whirlpools, shimmering as if constantly sun-kissed before melting to chartreuse shades on feet tipped with coral claws. Finally the crest breaks as it washes down his tail, ending in a sandy tip. Long and fluid, he appears as if he is the currents of the sea made flesh, muscles flowing into each other with consummate grace and power.
From the hatching sands, "Candidacy," Cheyanna says to Faulk. Her eyes track paths of brown and green as they move around — and there's Talara with the green. She smiles at the other girl, but it's tight and not really natural.
From the hatching sands, Ryran would probably shriek like a girl again if Corona wasn't clinging to his arm. "Right.. well, um. That sorta thing isn't going to happen this time." Cough. "Because I won't let it, see?" There. That ought to soothe some nerves.. even though his are rather shot. "Talara!" Beam.
From the hatching sands, Neasan is getting more nervous as the Ah-Puch Egg seems to be closer to hatching. He can't take his eyes off it for more than a moment, and then only to check on the other dragonets. He forces himself to breath deeply, though his eyes flicker to the other candidates to be sure no one can see his slight shaking. A hand is rubbed across his face to wipe away some of the sweat. "Talara!" He calls, managing to catch the Impression out of the corner of his eye.
From the hatching sands, Aylara wipes a line of sweat off of her forehead. "Shards it's hot…" She says, speaking to no one in particular5, though she waves at Relyssa. At the pinacle of her excitement a small doubt rises in her eyes. What if she doesn't impress? She shoves the thought aside, looking at the clutch of eggs as another egg shakes, momentarily distracted. But her eyes drone to the brown and back to the clutch, as if she's afraid to miss something.
From the hatching sands, Aisling watches her fellow candidates impress to the dragonets, grinning madly. Her mind off the heat at her feet she settles in to enjoy the show. Just so long as no rampaging dragons come her way, she's content.
From the hatching sands, "I suppose there was something to it. I can't remember what, though. Maybe," Faulk touches his nose experimentally, "I found myself. Of course, now I don't really want to go home. So I … well, that's something, I guess!" He glances over at another Impression. "Another one. Too bad. She had some sense."
From the hatching sands, Jia raises an eyebrow at her…um… master? Shards, no. Boss. Yes. Boss. "Grmph," she responds cheerfully. Yup, she's guarding. Guard guard guard. And, apparently, being "hot" while doing so. At least she can just stand there, giving whiteknots the evil eye, and she doesn't have to worry about the feeding etc… at least until next hatching. Next… hatching? He eyes go wide as reality sinks in. Oh, no! She may have to do this for the /rest of her life/! Right. Project. Must be a terrible WLM. /Must/. Demotion, here she comes: although, not just now. "/Back/!" she orders a dark-haired lass who's gotten too close to freedom. "Back up now, please."
From the hatching sands, Sorcha is clearly a beacon for bad luck, having been mauled last time and what-not. In fact, her stunning (ahem) Candidate's robe reveals the ugly scars on her legs. She hovers by herself, somewhere on the semi-circle between Ryran and Neasan. It's hot. It's sweaty. It's quite uncomfortable, and there could be claws involved. Is it any surprise she's not smiling? In fact, if she was confident that she could take Jia down, she'd make a run for it.
From the hatching sands, Ryran runs a wrist across his forehead to rid it of some sweat, though the action seems futile. The robe around his middle is rather damp and clearly shows it. "Faranth, it's hot. My sandals feel like they're gonna burn.." Glancing down at his feet for a moment, Ry's attention is quickly grabbed by a newly hatched blue dragonet.
From the hatching sands, Rivellis allows a bit of a shocked expression to make it's way onto his face as Talara impresses. Well, now she would annoy him even more!! Not good… "Congratulations Talara." Riv mutters, maybe not even audible to the girl. Hmm, where was Neasan? Had he impressed? Thoughts are momentarily banished from his mind as a blue hatches. "A blue." Waita state the obvious Riv.
From the hatching sands, Equatorial Evolution Blue Dragonet shakes his head emphatically, ridding himself of eggshards and goo. With a far too mature hrrumph, he slowly makes his way onto his feet, his long neck swinging from side to side as he tries to ascertain the exact nature of those white swaying gibbering things.
From the hatching sands, Heart of the Desert Brown Dragonet looks languidly around the sands, appearing uninterested in most of the candidates his big eyes observe. After taking a few distressing glimpses on all sides of him, a compassionate-looking girl is spotted, and in next to no time at all, he's on his way head first towards her with surprising speed. Unfortunately for him, he stumbles and falls multiple times in his journey to the blue eyed girl, so that now both pasted egg shell and sand cover his dirty brown hide. Upon arrival, his croons become more loving than wistful, nuzzling up against the blonde haired woman's legs as his eyes meet those belonging his new best friend, Aylara.
From the hatching sands, Talara blinks at the dragonet as she stops in front of her and gasps, standing completely still before slowly lowering herself to her knees. Who cares if the sands are hot! She reaches out to scratch the green's head, a smile slowly forming over her face and eyes beginning to water. Just a little. "Tsukiath…" And that's all she can manage to say at the moment.
From the hatching sands, "Where else would you go?" Cheyanna asks, sounding a bit horrified by the idea. There is home, and there is… not home. She glances again up at the stands, and the familiar faces in the front row. "Wouldn't you miss your family and things?" She runs at her sweaty scalp, which is shining noticeably in the heat. None of the dragons are holding her attention individually, just the mass of them as a whole.
From the hatching sands, Imperial Book of Etiquette Egg jitters, it's occupant moving within the shell and causing it to shiver in anticipation.
From the hatching sands, Corona's enthusiasm doesn't skyrocket with this Impression, as it did last time. Ryran's mention of mauling has brought her low. She does call out, "Yea, Talara," though not nearly as loudly as for the last few Impressions. Her eyes scan the sands repeatedly, now on the lookout to make sure no dragonets come near enough to maul, and even more, to make sure some green doesn't try to Impress to them. It's during this motion that she sees Aylara's Impression, which causes a big smile and a yell, "Aylara!"
Taya busies herself with watching the hatching, quietly applauding as each candidate Impresses. And then Talara Impresses, and Taya lets out a boisterous whoot for the new greenlet. "Whoo! Go Tala!" is shouted, before she turns to M'rg. "Tsukiath, quite a lovely name, don't you think?" she questions with a crooked grin."
From the hatching sands, Rainbow Serpent Egg gives way without any warning, a small fissure splitting either end even down the middle. From within, a speckled brown glistens the area with his wet hide. Wings test their durability, landing him uneven and falling to the sand below. A small cry emits from his muzzle, multi-faceted orbs swirling with displeasure and hunger all the same. In a rush, a tall lad from Paradise Hold rushes forward, lifting the brown out from the itchy mess and giving his hide a good wipe to rid him of the clinging sand particles, "It'll be okay, Queytoliralianianth… we'll get you oiled and fed in no time!" With that, T'u and his new lifemate are escorted off of the sands.
From the hatching sands, Relyssa hesitates momentarily as she darts a glance at the clutch and frowns. The eggs were sure hatching fast. They were almost gone. At least that's how it looks to her! But then she spies one of the hatchlings pausing before a familiar form. Talara! A squeal of delight escapes the redhead before she realizes her name is being called. Wheeling around to peer at Corona, she happily makes her way towards the other girl and her clingee. She pauses to glance again at Aylara as the girl Impresses. "Yay Ayla!"
From the hatching sands, Aylara is stunned when the brown chooses her. So much so that she almost doesn't catch his name. "He says his name is Jhakkarath!" She's amazed and throws her arms round the hatchling's neck. She's had her dream and she's reeling from it! She hugs him and loves him till she's sure he's sick of her already. "You're a dream….."
From the hatching sands, Avery smiles as she gives Syseron's hand yet another squeeze. "It's okay, Ron. You don't have to try and comfort me. I'll survive." She pauses as another candidate Impresses and frowns slightly. "I think," she says under her breath.
From the hatching sands, "My family isn't at Heal— oh, okay, part of them are. But he won't miss me, I surely don't miss him, I can start a new life all by myself in a … a little cothold. Which I suppose would have people." Faulk scowls and scratches under his elbow. "People." Aylara's Impression is noted and lightly blatted at. "Hah! If Relyssa will get one too, maybe they'll both leave me alone. I stand above all women! Er, except you, Cheyanna. You're much like a man."
From the hatching sands, Jia edges the newest escepee-hopeful onto the main area of sand. Task of the moment completed, the rest of the candidates get looooong glances. Heh, like any of them could take a seasoned dragonrider. Let's see 'em try! At least it would be a distraction. Sighing very slightly, the bluerider woman settles back against the wall. At the very least, she reasons, it's a decent temperature in here.
From the hatching sands, Neasan is still here, though he's rather silent in his misery. After all, nervousness and extreme heat are enough to bring anyone down. He calls out a congrats for Aylara, but otherwise remains quiet, watching the eggs that are left closer than the dragonets already on the sands. "Jhakkarath, what an interesting name," he comments lowly, nodding in approval.
From the hatching sands, Ryran grins over at Aylara once the brown claims her as his own. Though he doesn't shout anything, the beaming smile on his face tells all. "Wow, they're going one by one.." Candidates turned weyrlings are being ushered off the sands and he swallows another lump in his throat as he gazes at them. The heart in his chest is still beating wildly and he takes a deep breath to try and relax. "I don't know how much longer I can stand this.. My nerves have long left me."
From the hatching sands, "Thanks," Cheyanna says bitterly. Her eyes track the blue as he moves on the sands.
From the hatching sands, Imperial Book of Etiquette Egg gives one final shudder, a myriad of cracks appearing all around its top, and the head of a golden dragonet appears, complete with a crown of shards. Her attempts at further freeing herself are far from queenly, hampered as she is by a lack of free limbs and after completing a few wobbly circles she and her shell corset topple over. This does have the benefit of splitting the remainder of her egg, enabling the lady to spread out and right herself with a slight croon, ready to begin her appraisal of the candidates.
From the hatching sands, Fortune on a Crown Lager's Froth Gold Dragonet
From the hatching sands, Earth-born red soothes a finely shaped muzzle, caresses cheekbones in sunsets crimson and pours down chiseled neck to simmer in shoulders' golden-bronze. Marks, bearing no set pattern, flare across her wide chest and solid torso in circles of crushed stone gray mottling gold territory and lend to whitened ash inclination, mirrored at each turn by a shadow of stilted ebon. Dissipating back into the ochre-reddened gild that shrouds angular 'ridges, charcoal takes its turn and flares in golden silhouette down dainty forelegs, departing in dangerous talons of heat-hardened obsidian. Skeletal in form and whimsically dappled by means of pebbled tan, specks of stirred char cast themselves over her wing sails of orange ember glow, vast stretches of membrane shrouded in a blanket of aureate dust. A last glimmer of smoldering seared darkness dies, leaving in its wake the white of grained sands converging in strips and waves of indiscriminate and time-carved formation. Curving, they erode in thick lines down her hindquarters and legs, and follow the trail down whiplash tail, ending in an ultimate restoration to golden origin.
From the hatching sands, Equatorial Evolution Blue Dragonet begins to sway in the rythym of the candidates. Perhaps there is some meaning to the ritual, of course being a dragon he doesn't feel the heat the same way. As Fascinating as it all is it isn't really getting him any closer to finding a lifemate, and with a sad little trill he goes off to investigate a mixed bunch of boys and girls.
From the hatching sands, Sorcha turns to Minka as the gold appears, narrowing her eyes. Last time one of these things went running around the sands, Minka up and became weyrwoman. With an analytical gaze, she peers around the group of candidates, looking for someone.. well, she doesn't know. She never saw it coming for Minka, so who knows what will happen now? She merely hangs back, waiting for someone to rush forward or squeal or.. /something/. The anxiety and tension in the air is suffocating.
From the hatching sands, Aisling watches the blue, he is a beauty, one can't help but feel a bit of pitty for the poor creatures, they don't even get sandals to walk on the hot sands with.
From the hatching sands, Corona jumps, pulling roughly on Ryran's arm as she accidently steps forward. "Ryran! Gold, it's a gold!" She shouts, all fear gone again as she frees one arm to point wildly in the dragon's direction. This might just be her big chance, though that certainly wasn't her egg that the dragonet came out of. There's a moment of hesitation and fright as she has that realization. Her face falls and she freezes, staring sadly between the Maiden's White Flower Egg and the golden hatchling.
From the hatching sands, Avery's jaw drops at first sight of the gold — how can one not stare, agog, at such a stunning figure of a dragon. She licks her lips and swallows, her attention turning instantly towards the rest of the sands' occupants. Gold may be gorgeous, but gah… the work!
From the hatching sands, Relyssa at last wanders up to Ryran and Corona, blinking at the two of them before frowning. Wow.. the eggs really /are/ going fast. Eyes fly open, however, upon resting on the gold hatchling. Gold. How pretty. Her breath grows shallow, and her sweaty hands fidget with her robe. Other hatchlings dart in and out of her vision, and her gaze lingers on them before going back to her fellow candidates. Those that are left, anyhow.
From the hatching sands, *CRACK* It's another gold! No, wait. Its not. It's just a (very!) lightly tinted bronze hatching out of the Ishtar Egg. He trips over his own feet, too, upon emerging into the new world around him. Pity that. He allows no sympathy, however, since just as quickly, he's up and standing and making his way towards the new N'pol a very tall, goofy looking boy with a mop of golden curls and specs upon his face. A sudden "Dynamith!" breaks any silence there might've been as yet another impression is made.
From the hatching sands, Equatorial Evolution Blue Dragonet continues to scour the sands; he decides to investigate a cluster of girls off to the side. Approaching cautiously, he spies a baby-faced beauty with eyes to match his hide. He is barely able to contain his excitement as he stumbles towards her; finally making contact as he rests his head against her thigh. It appears he has caught himself an elusive Avery!
From the hatching sands, Ryran runs his free hand through his hair to prevent it from sticking to his forehead any longer. Looking rather nervous, he starts to bounce slightly in place as he attempts to make time go faster. When the gold hatches, his gaze is shifted and he blinks a few times at the hatchling. "Hey, gold.." Corona is nudged soon afterward as his arm is nearly torn off by the girl. Heh.
From the hatching sands, Minka glances to Sorcha, nodding her head - she mutters with half-amusement, "Keep your eyes on the sands, Sor. Not me." She offers a final grin of encouragement, then glances back to the newly hatched gold, "You've done well, Rya. She's stunning." Ryazusith angles her head at the newest addition to the sands, crooning reassuringly to it, then to the others - wings unfurled slightly in a display of pride.
From the hatching sands, D'baji gives an impressed little whistle for the emergence of a gold, tossing a rather proud and almost paternal look to his lifemate. "She's not ugly either," he mentionts to Jia, with a nod of his chin towards the goldenling. The new, light bronze gets a beam as well. "Takes after his dad!" And then a glance to Sorcha; yup, still no dragon scratches.
From the hatching sands, Ah-Puch Egg shakes, beginning to pick up the pace before it's practically bouncing back and forth off of the sands. Just as slowly as it began quaking, the egg stops its movement to become dangerous still. Suddenly, without any cracks, splinters, or warning, a dragonet emerges from the remaining shell with a shrill creel. Once it shakes free some lingering shell and goo, sharp eyes scrutinize the candidates. Someone feed me!
From the hatching sands, Queen of the Jungle Green Dragonet
From the hatching sands, Wisps of bright green form an intricate lattice over rounded muzzle, then separate. In two directions, they ooze down her long, powerful neck to her underbelly, and climbing up between cerulean-flecked eyeridges and headknobs to skim along forest-green neckridges toward her tail. Striking silver accents her phalanges, while wide wingsails display murky browns bubbled with dark greens. Earthy browns stagnate along muscular sides, then slide into green and cerulean-tipped talons. The two strands of bright green interlace once more along her tail, condensing as they move towards its silver-tipped end.
From the hatching sands, Paths and Crossroads Egg is still rather still, the occaisional tock tock tock doing little to give the impression it is interested in the proceedings. Perhaps it is a dud? Who knows?
From the hatching sands, Fortune on a Crown Lager's Froth Gold Dragonet rights herself, wiggling rounded hindquarters in an attempt to shed a lingering piece of shell from her tail's very tip. Wiggling does the job, and sure enough, the offending piece of egg is cast off into the midst of hatchings and candidates. A prim and proper bob of her head is given, approval at her first triumph. But now, on to much more important matters. Lifting her head, she surveys the galleries and the sands with a swaying, and deliberately narrowed gaze - a sound sent forth from opened maw resembling a creel, but ends up a cross between a hiccup and burp, embarrassingly enough.
From the hatching sands, "It was a compliment, you know," Faulk chirps. He folds his arms solidly and stretches one leg behind him. "And there's the gold." Avery's Impression is seen, noted, filed with a half shake of the head.
From the hatching sands, And then there's a blue dragonet right next to him, stealing his friend away. He smiles brightly and lets go of Avery's hand and steps back, letting her figure out what to do with the blue that clinging to her legs. "Congrats, Ave. See? Didn't need me to say…" He shuts up as he can't come up with anything intelligent to say, clasping his hands behind his back and watching Avery quietly.
From the hatching sands, Avery stumbles, her fingers going lax in Syseron's to finally drop to her side. She stares at the blue head resting against her thigh, then reaches out to run a hand gently over his headknobs. She smiles. "You did it. I mean… we did it. I mean… let's get something to eat." She sighs happily, the name easing out on the breath, "Tirynth."
From the hatching sands, Syseron said that thing before Avery.
From the hatching sands, Rivellis gawks at the gold, mouth hanging slightly open. It was hard not to just stare at the queens wasn't it? Avery's impression is merely given a glance. No congratulations, no wave, just a glance. "Almost over with." He mutters quietly to himself.
From the hatching sands, Corona quietly admires the gold, her attention completely focused on her alone, the epitome of all of Corona's childish dreams. She stands awkwardly, half-convinced that the girl can't be hers, but still hoping regardless. She's lovely, of course, nearly everything is in Rona's eyes, but she's confused, retreating closer to Ryran. Her eyes raise towards his, looking for some sort of reassurance and encouragement. Of course, focused as she is, she completely misses Avery's Impression, though her head turns at all the shouts of congrats, offering up her own rather meekly.
From the hatching sands, Sorcha watches the gold carefully - much to her embarassment, she's quite transfixed by the little creature. But then she goes and burps, and Sorcha slaps her forehead in embarassment. "Oh, fabulous.. Ista's new queen is gassy." Then again, the nerves are getting to her, too, as with everyone. "Now all she needs to do is go to that Fortian girl, the one with smelly feet."
From the hatching sands, "Sure it was," Cheyanna says. But there's the gold, and her tension reaches a new level, her gaze tracking it warily. "She doesn't look like the kind to attack, huh?" Her eyes flick to Faulk. "At least she's not going to come at you."
From the hatching sands, Ryran chin nods toward Avery as the girl Impresses. A grin forms on his expression and he points towards the girl before another green dragonet is hatched. "Another green?" Seems to be a lot of females.. And Ry likes 'em. Mwaha. Ahem. So. The Paths and Crossroads egg is then eyed since it sorta almost twitched close by. "Did it move?" Yeah, he's too jumpy. "Relax, Corona. She's making her rounds.. if she draws near, just breathe." Words of advice.
From the hatching sands, Neasan glances once more at the egg that held his interest so long at the touching, in time to see it crack to reveal a green hatchling. He takes one step towards it, then shakes his head, torn between approaching and doing what tradition dictates. Waiting. Tradition wins out after a moment, but he's watching that dragonet in particular, even if it is a green. He certainly wouldn't want to Impress her, but she must be destined for a great match, fond as he was of the egg. The gold catches his eye, making the boy turn anxiously in Corona's direction. As much as she claimed that she /would/ be a goldrider, this is the big moment to see if she's right.
From the hatching sands, Isabeau is somewhat lost in all the confusion. It's so much easier to see what's going on from the stands, where she's watched the last several hatchings at Telgar, down here she barely has time to call out congratulations to the impressees as they happen.
From the hatching sands, Queen of the Jungle Green Dragonet is quick to find her feet. Each limb is given a cautious wiggle, to make sure she knows how everything works. The dragonet makes a few careful steps, attempting precision and giving an annoyed sniff with each stumble.
From the hatching sands, "Well, if she does," Faulk tilts his head over and down to give Cheyanna a quick wink, "you'll know I have some /kind/ of huge secret, huh?"
From the hatching sands, It's raining, it's pouring! Actually, that's probably just the dust storm that the newest green hatching from the Maiden's White Flower Egg has created. The egg itself is hardly even existent anymore, having nearly exploded upon her arrival. Once tawny-green wingsails are tested out for sturdiness, and furled back up, tiny limbs move beneath her, carrying her instantaneously towards a certain lad, resembling one of the riders nearby. Wait… no, he doesn't look right. Maybe that healer boy over there… the gangly one with the sharp blue eyes? You know, the blonde one? Well, maybe not him either. He's not paying -nearly- enough attention to her. A final sniff or two later causes her to turn her head and divert herself into another direction, which in turn causes her to walk directly into a young woman by the name of Millis. "Rehoboth!" she calls out, dropping to her knees to greet her new lifemate. "I'm so glad we've finally met!"
From the hatching sands, Corona is breathing too much, too quickly. Despite her fears, she's shaking like a leaf, nervous as she watches the gold intently. She smiles slightly at the strange sound, still tucked tight to Ryran beside her. Her eyes drift from the gold to the parents and to Minka, then back again, looking for some hint of who she'll go to.
From the hatching sands, Cheyanna doesn't dignify that with an answer. She just rolls her eyes and shifts a bit, trying to put him between her and the gold. That's the best use of Faulk, really. Human shield.
From the hatching sands, Jia nods to her Boss, all minion-y and stuff. But she doesn't have to be happy about it. "No, Sir, she's not." And, of course, after she says that she leans over to see what it was she was talking about. Oh, the pretty dark gold thing? She's OK. But nowhere near as lovely as Sahruth. As she's distracted by the bronzerider, a dark lad from Crom has determined that the time is right and he makes a break for it, launching himself at the door. "Oh, you… back!" Candie fear is no match for bluerider reflexes, and the boy's caught by a golden-tanned arm around his midsection. Silly creatures, candidates. Hmph.
From the hatching sands, Syseron finds himself standing alone and fidgeting as more dragons hatch and everyone starts paying attention to the gold above the others. And who wouldn't? Not only is she beautiful, she's kind of noisy. He looks nervous as he looks around for someone else to stand next to. He ends up shuffling nearer to Ryran and Corona. "Hey." Quiet. He lets his gaze drift back to the green.
From the hatching sands, Ryran attempts to take long, deep breaths in order to remain calm as eggs begin to move all around him. Maybe they'll all hatch at once and ambush him from all angles.. then he'd /really/ be up a creek without a paddle. Eyes are then shifted over to Lzi somewhere in the crowd and he tries to remember what she said to him. He'll take all the reassurance he can get at this point. The green dragonet steals his attention once again and his pulse quickens. "Faranth help me.." is then whispered under his breath.
From the hatching sands, Fortune on a Crown Lager's Froth Gold Dragonet hiccups again, shaking her golden muzzle in irritation as she stumbles forth - swagger interrupted by the unusual nuisance. She pauses, stilling herself, and seems to overcome the minor setback, and plow forward. She's no nonsense, and methodically seeks out females, inspecting them and discarding them at a furious pace. She sideswipes a young man on her way through, knocking him to his feet without a care, glimmering orbs laying sight on a distant figure - jaws parting in a pant as she begins to lope towards her target.
From the hatching sands, Aisling's eyes move off of the eggs, distracted by the antics that are Jia and the candidates near the door, this is more interesting then the eggs. She smirks as the latest boy is caught and watches eagerly now, trying to pick out which of the candidates left are going to try their chances with Jia instead of the eggs.
From the hatching sands, Relyssa sidles up ever so slightly and darts a glance at both Corona and Ryran. They both seem so.. distracted. Gulping down that curious lump that seems to keep coming back, the small redhead clenches her hands tightly as she tries to focus on the goings on around her.
From the hatching sands, Faulk does not return the green's scrutiny by kicking at it, although, by his wary/startled expression, he's tempted. And Cheyanna's gone and vanished. Oh. There. Faulk cranes his head behind. "What in the shards are you—" He makes an attempt to shift in the opposite direction. No, you don't.
From the hatching sands, D'baji winces at the gold's swiping at the male candidate. Gotta know the gold's getting the most attention; poor other dragonets. "No maulings!" is called almost to the hatchling- though chances are that sound'll be lost in the Hatching caverns before it reaches her.
From the hatching sands, Sorcha shivers slightly as the sweat on her skin cools and the eggs hatch at a furious pace - There's too many dragonets on the sand to keep track of, but they all have equally sharp talons. With a heavy gulp - she looks ready to be sick - she moves back behind a few other anxious girls, carefully arranging herself behind a human shield. Hey, look.. If someone's gotta go down, it's not going to be her.
From the hatching sands, Queen of the Jungle Green Dragonet is getting the hang of this whole moving thing. Though still awkward, her limbs seem to be a little more coordinated. Tail swishes, wings are flapped (with some small spraying of remaining goop), and she inspects a nearby girl- and promptly moves on.
From the hatching sands, And now they're tangoing. Cheyanna shifts again, not abandoning her attempt to use Faulk. "She's not going to attack you," she says in blatantly hollow reassurance. "Do you think he's okay?" Hey, Faulk is the healer.
From the hatching sands, Rivellis looks about and realizes that the candidates around him had slowly faded. A few quick paces take the young man to stand near Faulk. It was lonely over there! Especially since Tala and Neasan weren't pestering him! "Faulk, you better not impress. I've got two marks you don't." What a kind greeting…
From the hatching sands, After falling asleep standing up /and/ with her eyes open, Lzi starts paying attention to the rocking eggs again, especially since they are becoming less and less in numbers, and more and more pairs are coming off of the sands. "See, I told you you'd be okay!" is shouted over to Ryran with a beam, even if she was supposed to keep it a secret. Whoops. Not to mention that the hatching isn't over yet. Ah well.
From the hatching sands, Corona sidles a little behind Ryran as she watches the gold. That thing is a little too wild, and now, instead of fearing that she's not for her… Rona is actually getting scared that she might just be for her… And maul her in the process. Still, Neasan's words stick in her mind, and she's careful to watch so that Ryran doesn't /somehow/ Impress her dragon, if the gold is, in fact, hers. All other dragons are forgotten, the girl has even forgot to look for her clinging partner's lifemate, as she shifts awkwardly and pushes her wet, sweaty hair back over her shoulder roughly.
From the hatching sands, Faulk continues to go through his contrasting paces. No thanks. "He'll be fine," he decides, without looking at the felled fellow. "It's not like they'll leave him out there to die. It's not /my/ job to fix him, anyw— oh, hey, Rivellis," Faulk says in a low voice. He stops tangoing. "I'm sure you'll collect."
From the hatching sands, Jia perks at her boss' announcement. Maulings? Really? Where? The sands are frantically searched… but, alas, no blood. At least, not too much. Shell it. Disappointed, the bluerider re-crosses her arms and catches Aisling's eye. Hey, that lass looks familiar. Against the current tide of her mood, Jia manages a small grin before turning back to Her Job(tm) and some nervous-looking girls. "You, you: don't even /think/ about it." Ooh, now she's getting preemptive.
From the hatching sands, Ryran almost has heart failure when he watched the gold bump into a male candidate, knocking him to ground. If he thought his pulse was racing before, it's going even /faster/ now. "Oh Faranth.." he says rather nervously. Relyssa and Syseron are both nodded at once he snaps out of it. "Hey. Did you just see that?" he asks them both. "That gold.."
From the hatching sands, Fortune on a Crown Lager's Froth Gold Dragonet shimmies her way forward in a beeline towards a certain girl, in a fluid motion that sets her still-damp hide glistening with smoldering highlights. A gentle warble with a tone of query escapes her as she settles herself in front of the brunette, tail wrapping around the young woman's legs as she ducks her head until her eyes are in line with those of the girl. It doesn't take her long to see that this is the one who needs her most, and with a slight whuffle of Sorcha's hair the bond is made.
From the hatching sands, Relyssa nods. "Yes, I saw it." She continues.. seeing. Watching as the gold makes her way to Sorcha. Yay. A faint smile crosses her face before the redhead goes back to looking at the remaining eggs, and hatchlings.
From the hatching sands, Neasan is just watching silently, waiting anxiously to see who the current hatchlings Impress to. He jumps slightly, portraying a small amount of his nervousness at the gold's collision. He gives a quick glance around to be sure no one saw the movement, blinking in surprise at Sorcha's Impression. "Congratulations, Sorcha!" He calls, grinning momentarily before sending a look of sympathy in Corona's direction.
From the hatching sands, Paths and Crossroads Egg has been relatively serene through out, but now cracks appear in its surface, the rhythmic erosion taking it's toll against the once hard shell. The tock tock tock that could be heard all hatching increases in volume, as if finally the traveller draws near. Without fanfare the gentle pecking culminates in the disintegration of the shell, leaving Twilight Masked Hero Bronze Dragonet sitting in the ruins which he created. The traveller has arrived!
From the hatching sands, Twilight Masked Hero Bronze Dragonet
From the hatching sands, Aphotic molasses soaks bronzen hide, seeping into every curve and crevice formed by muscle. Within each neckridge, it burns, color rid through the shadows of darkness until it spills onto a near-mahogany muzzle, unflawed despite darker creases that spider up his neck and fade into oblivion. Honey taints wingsails, the hue lightened with each of Rukbat's rays filtering through. Sap smothers his tail, shading its way into each flank that pools into a dark penumbra. Lean sinew creates the bulk of his large body, each limb perfectly proportioned with the rest, marking a virile beast.
From the hatching sands, Cheyanna eyes Rivellis warily. Okay, how did she end up in conversation with Faulk and Rivellis both at once, anyway? She is looking at Rivellis when Sorcha Impresses, so totally misses it for a second, then whips her head around to stare. "So, there's the new goldrider," she says, smiling uncertainly. She rubs her arm.
From the hatching sands, Sorcha stumbles forward as a tail snakes around her ankles and reaches out, suddenly finding smooth dragonhide under her hands. "Oh, oh.." she stutters, the color draining from her face before returning in a brilliant blush. Her eyes lock into the dragonet's hungry red gaze, and a name forms on her lips: "Madigyth.. I'm listening."
From the hatching sands, Syseron watches the gold for a while simply because she is knocking people over. He scowls a little and takes a step back, relieved when she finally impresses Sorcha. He relaxes visibly for a moment before looking around for any other charging dragonets. He eyes the reactions and even peeks up into the galleries for a moment before looking at the eggs and the wandering dragonets.
From the hatching sands, August Personage of Jade Egg twitches one way, then the other, as if considering every aspect of the problem of hatching. A final wobble has the egg flopping finally to one side as a large crack forms around the tip of it. Through the top bursts a tiny blue dragonet, who gives a creel before making it's way decisively towards the candidate Platiron. As the dragon looks into his eyes, Plat'o declares, "Eureka! His name's Aristolth!"
From the hatching sands, Queen of the Jungle Green Dragonet is hardly aware of the Impression of her golden clutchmate, nor of the other hatchings and Impressions going on around her. She seems to have found a candidate of interest, and is making her way slowly, and as precisely as possible, towards a candidate not knocked over by that gold.
From the hatching sands, Minka just stares. Sorcha? "Sorcha..? SOR!" Minka glances to D'baji, and across at the other riders, lower lip hanging in .. shock, gaze rapidly flicking back to the candidate, "My goodness. She's gone to Sorcha. They seem to be breeding Weyrwomen at the Hold." Sorcha's the new Weyrwoman, now that is interesting. Min glances up at Rya, "Well, you'll be pleased with that then." Her words err a tad, Min obviously still registering the impressing. "Madigyth, eh. Lovely name. Looks like she might be a handful, however."
From the hatching sands, Ryran stumbles a bit when the bronze dragonet hatches. In fact, he nearly falls to the ground, but, manages to remain standing as his eyes are glued to the hatchling. "Corona, you didn't catch me.." he says to the girl in a teasing manner as he takes a step back. "I'm glad that gold went away. She creeped me out."
From the hatching sands, D'baji is off like a shot, ready and waiting to escort Sorcha and Madigyth from the Sands. "Still in one piece," is murmured by the bronzer, not at all expecting to be heard. A quick nod towards Nverath prompts the addition of, "Well done, eh?" Ryazusith gets a grin. Minka gets a grin. And then it's back to the new Junior Weyrwoman.
From the hatching sands, N'ano is starting to get nervous himself… only a couple left! And his own son is still standing, not to mention his once-step-daughter. Faranth. He doesn't say anything, but rather clutches his hands behind his head, biting on his bottom lip in anticipation.
From the hatching sands, Relyssa actually laughs somewhat at Ryran's comment about the gold. However, she's getting somewhat anxious; she certainly doesn't want to be one of the ones left standing dragonless when the whole thing is over. But it isn't over yet! The redhead continues watch, wait, and hope.
From the hatching sands, Twilight Masked Hero Bronze Dragonet continues to sit in the ruins of his egg, a small silver of shell lubricated by goo sliding down his cheek. A rather strange high pitched squeak is emitted from the dragonet, continuing for a good few moments before he eventually decides to stand up, his tail swinging behind him as if to disperse a stench.
From the hatching sands, Corona isn't sure how to react. Her face falls slightly as the gold Impresses to her enemy, Sorcha, but that's about it for emotion. She simply stares in disappointment, no tears, no outbursts, no nothing. She's tugged backwards as Ryran nearly falls, but she simply turns her look of confusion towards him before eyeing the newly hatched bronze. "Maybe he's yours, Ry," She says evenly, her head tilting slightly, as she does when her mind is overwhelmed.
From the hatching sands, Sorcha wraps her arm around Madigyth's serpentine neck, her face a mask of absolute shock, and stumbles after D'baji without a glance backwards.
From the hatching sands, Ryran swallows yet another lump in his throat as he stares at the bronze from afar. A hand rubs at his ear once the hatchling shrieks and he shakes his head shortly afterwards. "Wow. Did you hear that?" Blinking a few times, Ry begins to take deep breaths before wiping the sweat from his brow again. "My legs are about to give way." It's hot. Very hot.
Corey comes up from the galleries looking for a dragon — I know I parked around here somewhere.
Corey makes his way carefully down into the galleries.
From the hatching sands, "Yes. I did. Isn't she nice? Totally ignored my /theft/ report, though. I'm sure she won't be very competent," Faulk sniffs dismissively and unfolds his arms to scratch his legs. "And there's the manly color."
From the hatching sands, Relyssa peers at Ryran for a moment before sidling up against him on the other side, offering him a somewhat sheepish smile. "Just looked like you could use the extra support, s'all." Fortunately, short though she may be, the redhead is quite sturdy. And it takes her mind off her dilemma.
From the hatching sands, Rivellis wipes a bit more sweat off of his brow as he eyes the two remaining dragonets still on the sands. A bronze and a green. Slowly his chances of impressions were falling out of his grasp. Shards, not good.
From the hatching sands, "Ry! You doin' alright, boy?" Hey, it's one thing to have a fanbase in the backround, but your own daddy? N'ano's a healer at that, too! Hesitantly, the bronzerider takes a few steps foward in case Ryran should decide to pass out, as if it were an option… not that he's close enough to actually catch the lad. Corona can do that deed. He's got water though!
From the hatching sands, Syseron fidgets by himself, eyeing the green up and down before the bronze hatches and catches his attention once more. When the bronze remains prone for a moment, then rises only to air himself, he looks away, eyeing the eggs for another cracked one. His gaze returns to the green one more time and he just smiles at her. He purses his lips to dispell the expression as looks over at Faulk as he announces his approval for the bronze.
From the hatching sands, Twilight Masked Hero Bronze Dragonet prances in a random direction, he lethargy suddenly replaced by a very energetic dragonet. Lifting his head he sniffs. Oh yes there be treasure on these here sands, and he's just the dragon to find it. He nods his head regally as he trots by the candidates looking for his treasure.
From the hatching sands, Queen of the Jungle Green Dragonet patiently makes her way among the candidates before calm eyes settle upon a shaggy haired boy. Curious to see who lies underneath the brown mop, she wobbles slowly but surely in the direction of the Healer. The green peers inquiringly up at the tall lad, a soft croon emitting from deep in her throat. Now sure that he's the one for her, she settles down like a canine would at his feet, gazing up into the green eyes of her new lifemate- S'eron.
From the hatching sands, Minka glances now, eyes following Sorcha as she leaves, then twists back to bronze and green, swapping rapidly between watching either. Who'd that green go to, "Syseron, well done!" She beams, proudly nodding her approval, "A terrific match, he'll do well."
From the hatching sands, Cheyanna, growing always more flushed, flaps her robes to cool herself off, shuffling her feet. "Maybe he's mine," she says darkly. "Since I'm much like a man." And there goes the green, and she squints over at Syseron.
From the hatching sands, Neasan's chances of Impression are shrinking, and he's getting more and more nervous as the eggs continue hatching and the candidates leave the sands. He doesn't want to get left standing, and worse, he doesn't want to get left standing alone. The boy moves closer to the crowd, forming closer to Ryran than Rivellis this time. He smiles slightly at Relyssa as he halts beside her, eyes travelling back and forth across the eggs and dragonets. "Hey, Syseron!" He calls in congratulations, grinning.
From the hatching sands, Jia isn't hot… well, at least in the temperature sense. Igenites are inclined to this sort of weather. The gold's gone, the blues are gone, the browns are gone… most all the dragonets are gone! Thank /Faranth/! Also worthy of First-Mother-thanking is the fact that most of the candidates are either, well, Impressed, depressed, or in shock. There's more fidgeting and sand-toeing than running, and that, Jia believes, is something to be grateful for.
From the hatching sands, "He may well be," Faulk confirms, equally dark. And, then, his attention is drawn to Syseron. He smirks beautifically. "I /knew/ it."
From the hatching sands, Ryran takes the opportunity to lean against Relyssa at her offer. Eh, he doesn't lean entirely, though he takes advantage of the situation. "Thanks. I needed that.." His father's voice can be heard once again and he glances over to where he is. Nodding a bit, he acknowledges N'ano and says nothing. "Do I look pale?" Ok, so now he's just being dramatic. Neasan is noticed right before Syseron Impressed. Oooh. Another greenie.
From the hatching sands, Cheyanna glowers at Faulk, but again refrains from speech.
From the hatching sands, Corona is still holding Ryran's arm, though much much looser now. She's in something akin to a state of shock. Were Ryran to go down, she most certainly wouldn't be able to catch him (he /is/ much larger than she), but she'd probably go down with him.
From the hatching sands, Relyssa blinks and peers closely at Ryran before shaking her head. "No, I don't think so. You look fine." She pauses for a moment. "You can lean a little more, if you want." Her stomach in knots, the redhead tries to remain optimistic, offering Neasan a wobbly but large smile in exchange for his own.
From the hatching sands, Twilight Masked Hero Bronze Dragonet is really sick of all this searching. Surely treasure isn't that hard to find is it? With a sharp little yawn and a shake of his head he resumes his weary quest. Dodging one particularly clumsy candidate he collides with a shaggy haired young man with amber eyes. As their gazes lock, it becomes evident that the young bronze dragonet has finally found his treasure. His Ryran.
Liza clambers up Ikth's neck and settles in between two neckridges.
Ikth takes off.
From the hatching sands, Faulk sniffs. He points his toe in Ryran's direction. "And /he/ gets the manly dragon. He was very disrespectful in my first aid class. He doesn't deserve such things!"
From the hatching sands, S'eron blinks for a moment, a silly grin, probably his first in his life time, pulls at his lips and he squats down, gently running a hand down her throat and looking into her eyes again. "Lenculoth… is it?" He looks up for a moment, giving Faulk a strange look, shrugs and then announces, "Her name is Lenculoth." He licks his lips and looks back down at his new green, ignoring everyone else for a while.
From the hatching sands, Ryran discontinues his leaning against Relyssa and grins at her. "Thanks for the lean—" And it isn't long after he speaks that he's bowled over and down he goes onto his rear end. Before he can get a chance to say anything, he rubs his hip and looks at the bronze staring directly at him. "We are? Cojiroth?" Yes, he remains on his hind end while speaking to his new bond.
From the hatching sands, Corona jumps away from Ryran as a bronze comes closer and closer. She backs away, slowly smiling, then outright grinning as the boy Impresses. "RYRAN!" She screams happily, returning to fling herself at him in a big hug. "Congrats, Ry!" She gives him a second hug before backing away, giving the boy and his dragon room to manuever themselves. She bounces slightly, happy for N'ano's son despite her failed dreams, and oblivious to the lack of eggs left.
From the hatching sands, "Shut up, Faulk." But it's reflex, and Cheyanna's voice has no bite in it. "So, I guess your problem is still there, whatever it is. Congratulations on… not Impressing. And surviving." Yes. Surviving is good. Her eyes brush the eggless sands.
From the hatching sands, Jia can barely believe her eyes. Yes. Yes, they're all gone. They're done! A fist punches the air, and the bluerider leans forward to delicately step onto the sands proper. Done! Done done… oh wait. Now comes the hard part… the oiling and cleaning and… "mrph," she notes, sagging a bit and following the last of the weyrlings off the sands.
From the hatching sands, Minka claps her hands together, "Well done, Ry. N'ano, congratulations. A fine bronze, you must be proud." Minka grins, stepping forward and motioning towards D'baji, should he be so inclined to join her as she wanders towards the midst of the sands - delicately picking over shards and so forth.
From the hatching sands, Relyssa yelps and jumps away with Corona as Ryran Impresses. She stares in awe for a moment before backing away. Looking up, she wanders over to stand next to the other girl.
From the hatching sands, Isabeau sighs and turns to walk from the stands, then pauses and waits for Neasan. It's not an earth shattering defeat for her by any stretch of the imagination, but she had hopped, "C'mon, Neasan… Let's get out of here." She murmurs to her friend.
From the hatching sands, Faulk returns S'eron's look with a markedly triumphant one and starts scuffing toward the exit. "Thanks. You two. I guess I … move on, then."
From the hatching sands, Sapha saunters hypnotically off the sands.
From the hatching sands, Neasan smiles faintly as the Ryran Impresses right beside him. "Congrats, Ryran," he says lowly. He shakes his head one last time, looking out at the empty sands and shards of shell. He gives a little nod to Isabeau, waiting for the cue for them to leave. Then, face set so as to show no sign of emotion to those watching, he turns back towards the tunnel out of the hatching grounds, shoulders squared with utter dignity. But he won't be seen at the Hatching feast…and those who know him will suspect that he is off somewhere in the woods, hiding until he feels he can face the world again without showing his disappointment. There will be other Hatchings, after all.
From the hatching sands, Minka clears her throat, raising her voice to begin her prepared speech: "Congratulations, to all our successful impressees. We are so pleased to have you! And thank you, to all of you who came and stood on the sands today. It's hard to see the friends you've made these past months go on without you, but just remember this: You've been chosen for a reason. You were found fit, and acceptable by our searchriders, you stood out from the crow - and just because your dragon was not amongst those in this clutch, does not mean they won't ever be." She pauses, drawing a breath, and offering a heartfelt smile to those gathered, "We'd love to have you stay at Ista, and become part of our Weyr - you are more than welcome, and we hope you all choose to stay and go on with us." Casting her gaze around, she stops, then adds on, "Though, should you wish to return to your homes, or travel elsewhere, we will have riders at your disposal now, and after the feast." She grins, "And on that note, please join me and the rest of the Weyr in the caverns for a wonderful feast and celebration for your fellow candidates who've impressed today!" With that, she turns away, motioning to a group of riders to follow her as she makes her way from the sands.
From the hatching sands, "Cojiroth? Holy flamin' Faranth, SAPHA!" N'ano yelps, waving in her direction—or well, wherever she is now before being distracted by Minka's words, "Thanks! You don't know /how/ shardin' proud I am." Yes, N'ano's nearly bouncing in his own spot before making his way towards his son now, offering a hand, "Need help?" GRIN. "I knew you'd impress. C'mon. We gotta get him fed." Or well, /R'lar/ does.
From the hatching sands, Jia walks off the sands.
From the hatching sands, Minka walks off the sands.
From the hatching sands, Corona reaches her hand out for Cheyanna's, her smile slowly fading as she moves to follow the goldrider off the sands and back to the barracks. She must write this all down in her book, of course, and so she moves quickly over the hot sands, before slowing her step to something more disappointed once on solid (cold) ground.
From the hatching sands, Neasan makes his way off the sands.
From the hatching sands, D'baji gambols off the sands.
From the hatching sands, Aisling goes home.
From the hatching sands, Corona walks off the sands.
From the hatching sands, Relyssa goes home.
From the hatching sands, Sorcha walks off the sands.
From the hatching sands, R'lar stands up and brushes the sand from his legs and back side before scritching Cojiroth. "C'mon, let's go." He says to both his father and his new bond. They both make their way towards the others now that they have regained /some/ sense.
From the hatching sands, Cheyanna nods to Faulk. Pause. "Bye. It was… yeah." Hard to quantify. She steps forward, stoops to scoop up a sliver of someone's shell, and steps back again, turning it over in her hand. And then she spots Corona, and offers an automatic smile. She takes the offered hand, squeezes once, and releases.
From the hatching sands, Cheyanna walks off the sands.
From the hatching sands, Madigyth shuffles awkwardly off the sands.
From the hatching sands, Avery skips off the sands.
From the hatching sands, Rivellis goes home.
From the hatching sands, Tirynth shuffles awkwardly off the sands.
From the hatching sands, Faulk walks off the sands.
From the hatching sands, Tala walks off the sands.
From the hatching sands, S'eron walks off the sands.
From the hatching sands, Lenculoth shuffles awkwardly off the sands.
From the hatching sands, R'lar heads off the sands.
From the hatching sands, Cojiroth shuffles awkwardly off the sands.
From the hatching sands, N'ano limps his way off the sands.
From the hatching sands, Syke ambles off the sands.
From the hatching sands, Saikath has left.
From the hatching sands, Isabeau walks off the sands.
From the hatching sands, Lzi walks off the sands.
Otyliath goes home.
Taya goes home.
