Xanadu Weyr - Observation Level
Dark blue seats form a semi-circle around the sands below, the lowest row separating from the sands themselves by merely a railing. The seats climb upwards, each row a bit higher then the previous, and they are broken up into sections by 3 sets of staircases. Lights are evenly spaced along the outer wall, lighting the seats and the sands easily, though they tend to be dimmed unless a major event is taking place. A large balcony looms overhead, darkening some of the seats, providing a place for observers of the draconic kind to watch without obstructing the view for others.
When one looks over the railing, the oddly hued sand below can be seen easily, the circle-shaped area of the sands spread out to the far walls, the sand itself a unique mixture of red and white grains.
It's been one of those humid summer days with the sweltering air listless and still, heavy with the feeling of foreboding as stationary clouds in the sky to the south slowly piled up higher and higher to form a bright white, towering bulk. As the afternoon progressed and the sky to the south slowly darkened under the spectacular pile of clouds, it became clear that a summer storm was brewing. Dinner approaches, and the massive cloudbank, now-pinkened by the setting sun, is finally on the move. Inky black hangs under them, shimmering with silent lightning and it's clear that Xanadu is in for a storm that will break shortly.
Why the eggs have to choose now, of all times to start rocking is anyone's guess, but the steady thrum of the dragons leaves no doubt that they will not wait. Dinner will wait, now to be a Hatching feast later, as the Weyr scrambles, dragons launched to wink *Between* so they can ferry guests from the surrounding holds as well as halls and holds afar off. While it's evening in Xanadu, the day is early yet in the Holds, Halls and Weyrs to the west, contact through dragonkind spreading the word that the expected hatching has begun!
Plethora of Pliable Puttees Egg experiences a slight shiver - nothing major, but it has moved if the quick of eye can notice the sand dune around it widening with each subtle motion.
As the first breath of laughter will hit a person midsection and spread in waves to their throat, in much the same way does The Best Medicine Egg quivers, goes still, then quivers yet again. Finally, it shudders a time or two before merrily rolling on the sands - laughing. Er. Wobbling.
Xe'ter comes moving at a fast clip onto the sands, though his dragon is more or less leading the choir with the draconic humming that's going on. He makes a trundle-bug line towards Thea…but he's already sweating. He leans to speak to her as he reaches her side…you'd never think he'd actually DONE this before! "They're gathered, Thea…waitin' for your word t'come out."
As the stands begin to fill with weyrfolk, firelizards zipping into the open doors or popping out of Between then settling to find places to perch, the humming grows louder yet. The Weyrwoman, already over on that platform when the queen started trilling, is now over by the gold, having climbed up on her forelegs to have a seat, eyes half-closed in concentration as she keep her there so she won't block the Candidates from having access to her eggs as is her wont to do. The Weyrleader's arrival draws a bare nod and, “Tell them to get in here.” And then she's back to keeping Seryth still.
R'owan is already set off to the side of the sands, his arms folded across his chest along with some of the other weyrlingmasters. Sweat beads on his forehead and clings in the strands of his hair, but it's one thing to be on the sands as a guide and an entire other for those in white robes. Calmly, he watches the eggs, gray eyes shooting from the first to move to the entrance, awaiting the candidate's arrival.
Tap. Tap-tap. The sound comes from the Forms in Celestial Darkness Egg as the tiny occupant makes itself known. There is a sudden little jolt from it, as if it bounced once and then landed again right in the same little mound of sand, sending little trails sliding down the sides as the motion makes room.
Paint Your Palette Blue and Gray Egg's starry night dreams are over, for the thrumming and jostling from nearby neighbors serve as a catalyst, waking it to begin a gentle, rhythmic rocking.
Several of the eggs are already rocking when miah enters the hatching arena, looking a little harried but striving for calm as she soothes the tiny gold firelizard on her forearm. There’s a disquieted glance over her shoulder in the direction of the Candidate barracks as she places a foot on the first step leading to the observation level, one sent over the sands and then she makes her way nimbly up to the first level, pausing at the railing to watch the Candidates as they file in. As Matrin appears, although he’s too far away to touch, her hand reaches impulsively, then settles back on her charge.
Keziah ushers the candidates out onto the sands as the word comes on back "Remember your manners, she reminds them and makes her way off to the side, automatically tipping a nod of respect to the clutch parents. She watches the candidates as she joins Ro and the others. "I've got high hopes for this group." she notes to him.
L'yn finds a place to sit, mindful that he's not blocking anyone, and looks to see where his cousin Jeniosa is standing.
Iforian enters with the other candidates, Jeniosa on one arm and looking for Inuelle to pull against his other side. He gives a small bow of respect to the clutch parents and then squares his shoulders to face the rocking eggs. There aren't any hatchlings yet, but that's sure to change quickly and he's suddenly as nervious as the youngest and least experienced candidates.
Colorful Bodies of Matter Egg slumps to one side, a massive crack splitting it almost neatly along the equator. A few moments of vigorous motion inside, and a brown hatchling frees himself into the world. The brownling could only be described as 'sludgy', as he somehow manages to get more sand caked on him than egg fluids off of him as he marches his way across the sands in search of his lifemate. Here and there, underneath the newly made mud, his hide appears to be a rather patchy and uneven miasma of every shade of brown known to man. One Candidate in particular, holding his unaccountably white and well pressed robe well out of the way, tries hard to NOT get the attention of the ungainly brown hatchling. Too late. One lunge later, and that perfect robe is shredded to bits, the candidate's a little scratched up, and he's arguing softly, "No, Ndoyeth! It's Geigryn! Not Gr'eg! GEI-GRYN…" No doubt, he'll lose the argument before they get food into his new lifemate.
Kershaw is comfortably seated awaiting the hatching, looking around to see if there are any face that he recognizes but so far no luck.
Soriana is muddy from a day out and about, but hatching waits for nobody, and she's hardly going to miss seeing which of the candidates leaves the sands with a dragon! She scrambles up into the stands, finding a place jammed in between holder and dragonrider to perch. Her young brown firelizard sits on her shoulder and hums along with the chorus of dragons, clearly intrigued by what his larger cousins are doing. The girl's eyes are equally bright as she watches.
Esiae enters behind the others, eyes wide, nerves clearly on display. She does mind her manners as Keziah says, however, bowing low to the clutchparents before following the throng and taking her place. Sweaty palms are wiped on her white robes, but that offers little comfort, especially in the face of wobbling eggs - instead, she turns to the white-robed figures nearest her, seeking some sort of distraction. "Bets on the first color to ha—" The words no sooner start than the first egg breaks open, the impression so quick it leaves her stunned. That'll teach her! "Well."
Matrin pauses at the threshold of the sands as the humming that has been a low background sound is suddenly almost overwhelming. He forces his feet to move, eyes darting up to the scores of dragons perched above them and the crowd in the stands. The sudden splintering of a shell and an Impression made before he even has his bearings gets him to make quick work of finding a spot to claim as his own. The heat of the sands is nothing new but he's too restless to really stand still. "Ten marks says brown," he murmurs to Esiae with a smirk.
Inuelle enters the Sands with a quick slightly stumbling step and she gratefully takes Iforian's other arm in order to steady herself. She looks towards the direction of the clutch parents, but her bow is maybe a little too low and her braid falls to the front.
Kinzie is not going to be nervous, nope… Gulp…. ok Maybe a little but she strides with purpose on to the sands, following the white robed figures in front of her as they file on to the sands. Noting the mention of manners she manages a nod of her head in respect to the clutch parents and weyrleaders before she finds her spot to stand. Hopping from foot to foot with the heat, the impression near her makes her step back a little before she mutters "Shards that was quick.. Congratulations.. Grei.. Gr'eg" she says with a chuckle at the name confusion.
Jeniosa is clinging to Iforian and Geigryn as the candidates filter into the sands. She offers a brief bow to clutchparents and then squeaks as there's already a brown headed her way. And, well, that's when Geigryn gets snagged. Well, there goes one of Jeniosa's human shields. So she'll cling even more to poor Iforian now, protect her!
Qe'pol is already partly drunk. Because that is how he ROLLS. "YAAAAAAAR!" Arms are thrown up with vigor. "Haaaatching!" It's a day to celebrate, after all. "I… I… totally bet… betttt-ah—- bet-ted. Betted? Bet? GAMBLED. On tha' girl there." He slurs a bit too much, pointing a flask-held hand at Esiae. "To impress." He states to the poor, poor individuals around him. He probably spit on one or two of them as well in his lame attempt to talk. Somewhere, Nisuanekhdjieth is facepalming hard at the antics of his rider.
Mishkia absently strokes the excited little queen, who flutters her wings as her harper-owner files in, her hums vibrating the hide beneath the Mire holder’s fingertips. “I know, I see him too. Easy does it.” The drunk rider nearby flailing and yelling causes her lips pull to the side in annoyance and she distances herself from him before sinking into a seat near the rail. There’s so much to see! The eggs are rocking - one hatching before she’s even found a seat, and yet her gaze keeps returning to where Matrin stands.
As it comes in sharp contact with one of its sibling's eggs, The Best Medicine Egg cracks up. Literally. The shell buckles, tiny fissures spreading in ripples across the surface. Abruptly, indentation becomes bulge as something within the shell pushes back against the intrusion, sending it skittering backwards, leaving behind a trail of shards.
Esiae promptly wrinkles her nose at Matrin, eyes narrow, but mouth curved into a smile. "I guess I deserved that," she says, referencing recent antics. "Still, I'll win that ten marks back by betting on blue next," she says with a confident dare, eyebrows bobbing before allowing her brown gaze to shift away to survey the rest of the sands. "That egg's looking promising." The Best Medicine egg is indicated as it leaves a rather comical trail behind.
Iforian's eyes widen when the first egg hatches and the brown hatchling heads in the direction of the small cluster of candidates he's managed to find himself in the middle of. Then the man on the other side of Jen is no longer just Geigryn and he offers quiet congratulations to the new pair. Hopefully that's not the way the entire hatching is going to go…
Plethora of Pliable Puttees Eggs is abruptly jolted in such a violent manner that a large chunk of egg shell splits, with flakes of its bumpy shell scattering to the sands upon which it sits.
Elemental Building Blocks Egg goes from stillness to a dangerously rollicking dance in its carefully constructed nest on the Sands. One moment, it's wriggling, the next it's rolling about like a drunken wherry. Cracks appear down the sides, splitting the brilliant colors into dozens of small shards. A singularly brilliant blue hatchling spills out of the Elemental Building Blocks Egg, looking dazed and confused as to his arrival on Pern. A few moments later, however, he's caught is breath and is up on all fours, marching with intent on the white-robed Candidates. One very small, very young looking Candidate meets the hatchling half-way, against all instructions and common sense. But the young, shaggy-haired Den'l cannot hide the euphoria that Impression brings, and he all but shrills out, "He's Tehath!"
Jeniosa can't hide the nervous anymore, her calm and collected shell is breaking away just as the shells are breaking away from their contents, the petite young beastcraft-candidate, still clinging to Iforian for dear life, await the next dragonet to break shell. Already she's sweating and she hasn't even been out here that long, of course, nerves and stuff will do that to a girl.
Matrin remembers way too late to dip a little bow to the clutchparents, but he still manages a fair bit of grace in the gesture. Esiae's already getting a grin as he straightens, absently tugging at the unfamiliar robe that hangs to his knees. "Don't start betting with a Bitran, little lady," is his drawl. "How about…" he trails off as the next one is indeed a blue. "Alright so we're even. Green next," and he suggest a far lower amount before calling a congrats to the newly named Den'l.
Kinzie watches the eggs intently, all this movement is difficult to concentrate on, she looks over to those candidates besinde her and notices Esiae, The comment about loosing marks makes her chuckle "Blue next huh?" she says watching the eggs intently to see if her fellow candidate is right "Not sure how you can tell with all those egg colours and…. oh" another impression is made and she looks over to Den'l and then the colour is noted "Congratulations" she shouts to the new pair.
Soriana cheers as the first egg cracks - and impresses - reaching up to pet her firelizard, and then looks over to the boisterous Qe'pol with a grin. "S'good bet," she agrees - though not nearly so loudly as he said it - and then turns her attention back to the sands in time to catch… a blue! Hatching-time, into full swing!
Thea has her hands full for the first few moments when the Candidates file in. Seryth half-rises and the Weyrwoman slides off of her perch, landing on her feet in front of the irate queen's muzzle. The gold appears to ignore her, stepping as if to go around her in order to push past to get to the candidates.
Inuelle squeaks as the pair impresses nearby. Then not long after theres a blue pair impression. She practically dances a bit. She's too nervous to be excited, but she does manage to squeak out her contratulations to the nearby brown and rider.
Sorayah was really only at Xanadu to deliever a message, but leaving turned out to not be on the agenda once the call went up. Instrument case slung on her shoulder, the harper slips onto the observation level just in time to catch the blue hatch. "Aw, he's so cute!" Slipping into a seat then, she cranes her neck, brown eyes skittering across the figures on the sands.
Romth rises to his own feet…but he's the one to put his massive head between Seryth and the Candidates…as if he could stop her by the simple gesture alone. His croon breaks his heavy thrumming, huge eyes whirling in soft shades of blue and lavendar as he offers his pleas to the Gold…settle. This is what happens!
Tarrin slips into the observation level and glances down at the sands, having caught a ride with an eastern rider when the annoucement went out that the eggs where about to hatch, his eyes scan across the sands below seeming to search the candidates for one in particular.
Iforian shifts from one sandal clad foot to the other, grimacing when Jeniosa almost pulls him over, "Easy, Jen. They ain't gonna getcha." Even he is intimidated by the sight of Seryth looming and looking like she's going to come eat all of them, or something, though, and just pulls the girls close.
Esiae laughs, feet shifting in their sandals in a little impromptu dance when she turns out to be correct. "Shells, man, I'm from Ista. We bet with the best of 'em," she says with far more confidence than she feels, angling a wink at the other harper. "Anyhow, green? You're on." There is a moment of surprise that the impressee is, in fact, Denil of crazy fame, but she seems pleased… until Seryth tries to step forwards. Then she's all wise eyes and silence, jocular winds out of her sails.
Abruptly, the shell of The Best Medicine Egg crumples and collapses to the sands in a heap of colorful shards leaving the occupant standing proudly amongst the ruins as it had pre-arranged this sudden unveiling and had a pose all ready to strike that seems to say: Hey everybody! I'm here!
| Femme Fatale in a Feather Mask Green Hatchling |
| Swirls and whorls of shimmering iridescence dance across the tourmaline hide of this sturdy, stately dragon, tracing abstract patterns that seem to shift fluidly just beneath her skin. Gold and emerald feathers brush delicately along the lines of her lean, aristocratic muzzle, slicking upwards before fading into a faint malachite haze along the sharp tilt of her eyeridges. The patterning continues down her long neck, spreading out over broad shoulders to curl down her forelegs, ending in a subtle lace spread across forefeet tipped in gilded talons. Opalescence continues along the spars that spring from shoulder blades, twining vine-like along substantial wing bones. Vivacious color pales as spar becomes sail, fading into creamy jade with only the faintest hint of gold threaded through. Like fine gauze, her wing sails are nearly translucent - mere delicate accents to the rich vibrancy of her hide. The rest of her solid frame is similarly wreathed with subtle highlights of sapphire and topaz beneath agate hide, blossoming in fantastical florets from belly to haunches before fading into nothing more than a faint suggestion along her robust tail. |
Femme Fatale in a Feather Mask Green Hatchling sits among the remains of her home, tail twitching back and forth as she lifts her bemasked head, blinking large, dazzled eyes at the crowd around her. With a rustle of her wings, she glances down, lifting one forefoot, then the other, shaking them delicately before coming to her feet and twisting to check out the rest of her sturdy little body. Once she's satisfied her legs are all there, she turns her attention back to those gathered just for her benefit, curving her neck and giving all of the Candidates a coy glance. Well, well. Hello there. With a hitch to her stride that turns walk into sashay, she moves out, away from the rest of the clutch and closer to the white-robed people awaiting her.
Matrin surely had some witty comment ready on his parted lips, but Seryth's loom wipes it clean away. He absently slips an arm in front of Esiae, as if he could somehow protect her, but then Romth is there and he relaxes a touch. "I'm sure there's nothing to worry about," he murmurs, then in a bid to lighten the mood nods toward the newly hatched green. "I win, but the real winner is whoever ends up with that gorgeous girl." A low, appreciative whistle escapes him as he looks her over.
Seryth subsides reluctantly with a warble of distress towards Romth, then settles to a crouch, rumbling to herself, tail lashing while she keeps a close eye on those robed figures, the yellow of warning whirling in her eyes. Better watch it!
L'yn says softly to himself, "Wow, she looks so delicate!" He hopes that she doesn't get mauled by the candidates!
Keziah mutters a little as she sees that the scamp Impressed. Then there's a smile "Come on Den'l, bring your dragon on over so you can feed him." she calls out and then murmurs. "Maybe I shouldn't have said what I said about hoping the lad would Impress. Trouble." she murmurs to Ro.
Iforian makes a small sound and gestures with his chin in the direction of the newly hatched green, "She's a pretty un'." Not the color he is aiming for, but a little beauty all the same.
Jeniosa isn't sure it happened quite so fast last time she stood. And Seryth's actions just make her shift that much more. "I don't think Seryth's happy about us being out here." But when the gold settles, she actualy breathes a sigh of relief. Iforian's words make the young woman blush and she regains some of her composure, at least for now. Okay, two down, ten to go. Brown, blue and green. She peers at the betters. "Hey, they're good at that guessing stuff." Well, at least she's distracted for the moment, right?
Romth croons again, his voice distinctive against the rest of the noise, and then carefully caresses his massive skull against Seryth's even larger one in reassurance. The Candidates come, the eggs go, the hatchlings come, the pairs go…it's how it is!
Kinzie shuffles a bit to try and ease her overheating feet, glancing uneasily for a moment at the gold and bronze before her attention is drawn back to the sands and the newly hatched dragon "Wow she's quite something" she says in a whisper before shuffling again, this could be nerves and heat now.
Sweet to the Tooth Egg wibbles and wobbles, and falls down, crumbling like a chunk of sugarsand around the prone form of a very small green hatchling. The green, streaked with every shade of green from lemon to lime, lays in the remains of her egg for long enough it's worrisome. But just as a Weyrlingmaster starts to try and get Thea's attention, she crawls onto her feet and begins the long trek towards the white-robed Candidates. After only one good sniff, the little streaked green looks up into the eyes of a young woman who has stood many times now. Ronca's expression goes blissful, as she goes to her knees to repeat the little one's name back to her: "Dlessyth."
Inuelle smiles. "She is pretty," she says and relaxes her hold on Iforian. "I think I remember that egg too," she says. Of course she does, it was the same egg that caused her to laugh her head off during a touching. No need to mention that of course.
R'owan smirks slightly, "What were you saying about a good lot?" R'owan winks towards Keziah. He can't help but be amused by the betting going on, but keeps himself otherwise silent, moving to catch the next of the hatchling and their newly found rider. Looking to Ronca, he offers a smile, "Come on, you two."
Esiae seems grateful for the protective arm of Matrin, even though it may not be the best protection between them and a dragon. Romth may have stepped in, but Seryth's yellow eyes are marked, and marked well. Okay, no more dancing… "I'm sure you're right, but no sense in being silly, I guess… You're right though. She's gorgeous." Indeed, the green is eyed for a long moment, the girl's head shaking to and fro. "They're all so different." Betting forgotten a moment, she stays close to Matrin, but watches the action, both of the feathered green and the bright one that immediately selects Ronca. "Congratulations!"
From outside there is a muted rumble of thunder, then a sudden downpour heard on the roof of the Hatching arena.
Ontali stands off to the side, smiling brightly at the proceedings. "Tloyan, Zhane, hands!" She huffs at a pair of boys closest, eyes skittering for the quick-hatching dragonets and the potential riders that are waiting for them. Kez and Ro get a smirk for their Weyrling-leading, but she's stationary for now, watching — and waiting, with a brief, automatic glance toward the cavern's ceiling. Wonderful!
Ers'lan is lucky he didn't miss the whole ordeal, though there was always work to be done and a hatching wasn't going to stop the stupidity of some. Still, he hangs on the edge of the seats after arriving, choosing to stand with a good view of the sands, arms crossed, eyes jumping from hatching egg to candidate to assistant weyrling masters and back again.
L'yn hears the rain, tilting his head back and looking up. "Oh no…my dragon's gonna be angry at this." He wonders if he should leave to check on him, but silent comminication urges him to stay. His lips make a silent, 'thank you'. His eyes are back to the hatching and Jeniosa.
Plethora of Pliable Puttees Egg is //destroyed in seconds in one violent explosion! Egg shells splatter across the span of the sand dune in which it had once sat, giving clear and sudden vindication to the dragonet who was too long locked inside. Now he's out and the diabolical schemes begin…!//
| Guardian of Past Sins Brown Hatchling |
| This brown, massive for a hatchling of his color, is rock solid in build, his craggy bone-work covered in lean muscle. He's built for speed and stamina - broad chest deeply set, abdomen taut and tucked. An elegant, soft fallow brown coats his hide in a unique play of shadows and light, patterns mottled with cream and chocolate that ripple over his form. Arrow-spotted bars of cocoa markings over each of his eyeridges give him a distinctive look while jagged neck ridges of strong russet contrast with the buff beige on his small, rugged headknobs, short narrowed muzzle, the underside of his jaw, long neck and back. The lighter hue sweeps all the way down his wide, blunt-ending tail where three chunky bands of chocolate wrap around the end of the snow-touched tip. Quite capable of lifting his bulk to the skies, over-large, cape-like wing sails stretch between darkened spars where hooks stand out a glimmer of pearl, the trailing edges likewise pale. The dry savanna of open-ringed spots inlaid with copper dapple over torso, fading to ecru on underbelly and limbs, darker tans curling over each sturdy leg only to fade yet again to white-cream on the edges of his sizable paws, which are tipped by iridescent ivory talons. |
Guardian of Past Sins Brown Hatchling steps with bravado from the remains of his prison. A loud booming roar signifies his triumphant appearance, clipping off sharply once he's gotten his point across. Arrogantly he flips his long neck to the side, glaring at those eggs still holding his more unfortunate siblings and then once at the old powers that be his clutch parents. Wet wings then spread aloft, snapping out wide, head turning to face front. The clutch dam and sire a part of his past now, ahead of him, his future. And what a rich future it will be!
Matrin shifts his arm from in front of Esiae and offers his hand to her instead with a brotherly sort of smile. It's casual enough that if she ignores it, the hand will just go back to wishing his robe had pockets, and there's too much going on, too quickly for him to do anything else. Instead he offers a soft congratulations to Ronca, and then the new brown has his eyes. "It's happening so fast."
Jeniosa seems to be calming down from the abrupt impression of Gr'eg next to her, at least she doesn't quite have as tight of a deathgrip on Iforian now. The thunder makes her cringe, though. "Well, at least we didn't get caught up in it." Now, just as long as everything holds up it should all be okay, right? The destroying of the brown's egg gets a blink. "Hey, I remember that egg, that was the mean one." At least it's a bronze so she doesn't have to worry about a mean lifemate possibly sniffing her out from that egg.
Alzanbri is here. He's been here since the first signs of hatching — lurking, saving his optimal spot and glaring at whoever might want to steal his seat. Even his father has been relegated to seats higher than his! He watches the sands with intent, fists balled at his sides, jaw clenched so hard that if he doesn't ease up teeth might start cracking. Somebody needs a chill pill!
Kinzie watches as yet another impression occurs, she smiles warmly and happily in Ronca's direction before her attention is drawn to the newly hatched brown "Well now he's handsome too" not that she's much of a judge of dragon's but still "Shards this is getting hot" shuffle shhuffle.. but her eyes flick from hatchling to hatchling to eggs.
Iforian hmms when the green doesn't move from her shell yet, "Wonder if'n she's-" Then she's off and he shrugs, "Ne'er mind…" The newly Impressed pair get a grin and he looks back at the clutch just in time to see a brown hatch, "Oh… Did y'all see which egg that'n was?" He's got bets on a couple of them. The crash of thunder earns a jump from the tall miner-candidate and he grimaces, "Least wise, we ain't gonna have t' deal with th' rain in here…"
Soriana watches eagerly, ducking at one point to avoid a rollicking cheer from one of those nearby. There's a hiss from her pouch, but the elbowed-at Inkfoot is quickly silenced and the girl leans forward and around to avoid missing any more of the show. Seryth's displeasure gets a glance, but /she/ doesn't need to worry, just those poor candidates! The rain is barely… no, it's not even noticed. Green and green and… another brown!
Just as sudden as the first, a second quick motion shimmies the Forms in Celestial Darkness Egg to the side as it topples off of the mound of sand and goes end-over-end before landing with a crunch at the base of the pile. The force of the impact sends fissures up through the shell, showing lines of white behind the dark exterior.
Esiae's eyes roll ceilingwards for that rumble and sudden downpour, but all previous concerns of muddy dragons are out the window. Instead she flickers a smile over to Matrin and takes the offered hand, needing the comfort despite her earlier bravado. "Too fast. I can barely keep up…" Indeed, the words have no sooner left her lips than the diabolical brown appears, making her inhale sharply. "Well. I wonder if there'll even be any shards left of /that/ egg."
Sorayah glances upwards as she hears the sound of rain, one side of her lips quirking up in a smile. However, the explosion from below soon brings the harper's attention down again and she lets out a low whistle. "Heh, that one seems pretty sure of himself."
Just One More Piece Egg has put the last piece of the puzzle into place and is ready to take a step back and view. It rolls back a little ways from the others and then pauses again in rapt contemplation.
Inuelle looks up nervously at the ceiling. "Rain?" she says nervously, and then watches as another green hatches. "Oh, is she…" And then the impression is made and she nods relieved. And she shuffles a little closer to Iforian and Jeniosa.
It's only now that Seryth is calm that the Weyrwoman has a moment to glance up to the Observation Level, sea green eyes noting the Weyrsecond sitting with her mother, who has a proud arm around Muir on one side and Marella on the other. Noticeably absent, Cold Stone Hold's lord, Thadan. But then D'had would hardly sit near the man. Muir, as usual has his attention riveted on the wandering hatchlings, particularly the blue ones, leaning as far forward as he can get, clutching the rail with both hands while Marella is cuddled up next to her grandmother, eyes wide with wonder as she watches.
Femme Fatale in a Feather Mask Green Hatchling seems a bit miffed at all of the attention being given the other dragonets and eggs. With a huffing breath, she opens her jaws and lets loose with a demanding *squawk* that somehow echoes over the sound of the torrent outside, clearly intending that all eyes return to her. Gauzy wings spread, fluttering in the heated breeze from the sands as she slips from sashay to stalk, gilt talons digging into the sands as she lowers her belly to the ground, hindquarters wiggling. Her nostrils flare as she catches scent of something positively interesting and she shifts to her right slightly, making her way towards a particular group of Candidates.
L'yn says "Pretty dragon. Terrible voice."
Ontali tut-tuts to herself at the newest brown, shooting him a most-likely useless but newly-learned Mom Look to cool his jets. As she swings her gaze back to the Candidates, though, the bluerider actually looks surprised — that they're not a mass of chaos, that they're actually behaving? Maybe. She doesn't even have anybody to shout orders at!
Iforian is happy enough to have both of 'his girls' close at his sides, though the heat from the sands has him shuffling his feet as he seeks a little relief. He nods, glancing up, "Be nice t' get out int' it once this's o'er."
Matrin gives that hand a little squeeze, then finally allows his gaze to travel up to the cavern's ceiling as though he could see the looming clouds through the stone. "Appropriate weather for a momentous occasion and a break in the tension leading up to today, I guess," he murmurs. "Though I hope none of the dignitaries got drenched on their way in." He flicks a glance toward Iforian after catching his question, and nods toward the brown, "The dirty laundry egg - it sort of knocked me around, if that helps."
Guardian of Past Sins Brown Hatchling carries himself across the sands with a swagger of cool charisma toward those white robes, thick tail swishing out behind him as his head scans this way and that. Walking taller, if that is even possible, he pulls his head high and sticks his deep chest out. Suddenly he charges at the group!! Where is the one that isn't going to leap away from him?! Where is the one that can face him and not flinch? He stops on a dime in front of a candidate who falls to his feet, earning a disdainful growl from the brown hatchling. Out of my way or I will step on you - is what the dragon seems to say as he all but pushes his way by, still searching.
Soriana giggles as the Feather-Masked Hatchling demands attention! "Well, pick one, girl! You'll get plenty of attention then!" she orders the green… not that she expects to be listened to!
The landscape of Paint Your Palette Blue and Gray Egg fractures as a crooked line arcs from apex to underside, the hatchling within pushing against the now-flexible shell. From inside there's a whine and scrabbling claws loud enough to heard by those standing nearest to it followed by a growl of frustration. Brief silence is followed by snuffling along the crack until from where the opening is wide enough to permit, a tongue flickers out. The pigment moves as the struggle is renewed, giving the impression that the egg is breathing.
Jeniosa turns attention to the femme fatale green briefly at the squawk, arching a brow a moment. "Hmm, demanding much?" She has to agree about the heat with a sigh and a shift of feet, another swipe of brow. But then her attention is caught by the charging brown and she squeaks. "I knew that one'd be mean." Yep, and if the brown heads her way, she'll casusally slip behind Iforian, ayup. No petite beastcrafter here.
Kinzie is distracted from her shuffling by the green's loud sqwauk and she can'y help but laugh "Well someone likes to be the centre of attention" she shurgs and is happy in the background right now. She watches the little green and little brown carefully but her attention is brought to the brown as a candidate falls, she winces in sympathy.
Alzanbri /glares/ with vervent ire at the brown who looks like he might be a handful — muttering threats under his breath, the lad glances between the devious-looking hatchling and Candidates. He's watchin' you, dragon!
Esiae definitely gives in to the green hatchling's desires, gaze focusing on her for that squawk. She gives an impish sort of smile to the femme fatale, which she then transfers over to Matrin. "Knows what she wants, don't she?" There's a snicker for his comment, though, head bobbing. "Definitely appropriate. It's like the weather read the mood and decided to acquiesce… more or less." The last bit is added for a wince, thoughts about the drenched folk coming to see them renewed. "Ah well. All this heat, they're sure to dry out fast, at least." It's an absent comment, considering the worrisome way that brown is charging people.
Tumbled Smooth Mosaic Egg shifts open the sands as if washed by some unseen wave that sends what seems akin to ripples across the surface, than tiny cracks appear across the stones before it crashes apart and sends a diminutive little blue stumbling out onto the sands looking for the one that is just for him. What appears to be frothy egg foam is in fact his wings that seem to almost glow against the deep cerulean foam that splashes across his back all of which are a bright contrast to the darkness of the ocean blue along his sides and belly. Then, even as the tide draws against the shore, Neon Dreams of Night blue he draws near to the side of one small seaholder lass. Tatyani gives a gasp of surprise. "Oh yes! We shall discover the sea's together Marivath and I shall be your Ta'ni!" she exclaims even as the walk together off to sides of the sands.
Iforian nods thoughtfully at the wandering brown, smirking a little at the hatchling's charge, though that smirk would be different if he'd actually hurt someone, "I liked that un'. Thought he'd be bronze, though…"
Guardian of Past Sins Brown Hatchling head butts anyone that is in his way. Get out of the way! Don't they understand what he's trying to do here! It's important and they're just standing around! He bares his teeth but doesn't use them, it's all a physical demonstration to get them moving and running when he wants them to. Run - *snap* of teeth at heels. Dodge - *hiss* of wing sail over a head. The hatchling stops to watch one candidate flee, chattering teeth as if amused by the sight. Then, there is the one thickly built young man. It's about time his cohort shows himself! With an irritated snort at having been made to go to all the work of finding him, the brown approaches a blond haired, blue eyed man.
Femme Fatale in a Feather Mask Green Hatchling doesn't seem quite as concerned when the attention of the crowd once more wanders from her - there is something more important out there then the stares of the common masses. With a demanding creel, she darts forward, pushing impatiently past a pair of Candidates unlucky enough to be in her way, shouldering them aside without any concern for their safety, or her own. Wings fluttering in her wake and tail lashing, she races pell-mell for one girl in particular. With a spray of sand, she skids to a halt before her chosen mate, wings raising to cup up and around as she stares haughtily into a pair of blue-grey eyes.
Sorayah can't help but snicker at the brown's movements, though she's quick to put a hand over her lips. There's a moment of stillness as the harper calms herself, still grinning as the hand falls away. "Right…shouldn't be amused. Nope, not me." After a moment of chiding, Sora falls silent again, gaze shifting towards the blue. "Oh! Pretty wings."
The jigsaw pattern on Just One More Piece Egg is suddenly broken apart in places as if something suddenly wiped across the surface in an attempt to scatter the pieces. There are no straight cracks, each one curves around or dips in and out with jagged shapes. Barn reds fall away, spring green pieces begin to scatter as something within seeks to rearrange things differently.
It is only a matter of time before the Color Outside the Lines Egg begins to tremble, tiny fissures showing like new strokes of color, marring the scribbled lines on the shell. Then, with a triumphant crack, a darkly marked head thrusts through the top, limbs pressing outwards. The hatchling creels, crunching eggshells beneath him. Dark as midnight, the little blue gives himself a shake, but doesn't seem quite able to rid himself of that shell clinging just between his eyeridges. The only shade of light on him is the slight flutter of his wings, as he shakes egg-goo out behind him, looking left and right before wandering towards the line of white-robes. At first, he seems so distracted that he barely notices them. Wandering past one, then another, whirling eyes looking everywhere else except at the line of people in front of him. It's with this distraction that he nearly tumbles straight into the stocky form of Janesh, a man who must be at the high edge of the age range for male candidates. Letting out a breath of air, the man crouches to steady the hatchling, and then his eyes go unfocused. "You've got a shell on your head, silly one." His voice is surprisingly gentle, yet surprised, eyes unfocused. "J'esh?" Beat. His expression is confused, and then with a growing join, he exclaims. "He… he says his name is Taruneth!" It seems to take quite a bit of time for the realization of impression to set in, and the newly named rider has to be ushered off the sands by a weyrlingmaster.
Ontali steps forward to lead Ta'ni off, smiling brightly at the blueweyrling. "Congratulations. Walk with me." The older bluerider grins, carefully leading the pair off to their new digs — reemerging just in time to find J'esh and Taruneth ready to go. Or not; but either way, they're going. "Alright, then, c'mon you. Let's get him some food." She smirks, and leads them off, reemerging a minute later to scan the sands for mischief or more Impressions.
Iforian doesn't mind Jeniosa hiding behind him, though it does earn a vaguely amused look over his shoulder, "Ya know, ya ain't gonna see nothin' if'n ya don't get out here an' watch." Then there's something… The brown, that handsome, brash brown, is at his feet and the miner-candidate looks down, sweat dripping from his chin, "Whadya mean ya're th' boss?" The girls are forgotten in the moment as he scowls down at the young creature that's just changed his life, though he might not know it yet, "I ain't If'an, I'm-" Then it seems to actually hit him and he blinks again, "Uh…" He looks at the girls, and gently slips his arms out of their grasp, "Sorry, sweethearts. Izzuth here's hungry." Seems that they're going to lose their other protection now, too…
Kinzie blinks at the little green in front of her, the rush of thoughts in her mind almost overwhelming and she just stands there staring for a moment, everything else on the sands is forgotten as she cannot think about anything else… "Szadith… I… Party?" she stumbles for words, certainly not the confident voice that rings around her head but more of a little squeak "Of course you're hungry… I don't know what they're serving but we'll find you something" and she looks about with a slight hint of panic "Her name is Szadith… and she's hungry" she says by way of explanation for her behaviour.
Just One More Piece Egg falls just to that… pieces. Yellow slips free. Red pops out. Green collapses in on itself to reveal a darker shade, a slick and shadowed and moving shade of green that fills the spot. A few more sections drop away, punched free of that sundered shell from one very insistent force within. The rest of the egg scatters to the pale sands with a demanding push, the shell breaking apart into jigsaw bits and shattered pieces that one could never hope to reassemble.
| To Dance with Shadows Green Hatchling |
| Shadows dance within shadows, where a nimble breath of moonlight can creep through jungles primeval canopy to prowl the lush greens that camouflage this dragons swarthy hide. Nightfall preys upon the wildwood greens of her slim sides; the thicket is darkest along her narrow chest as scattered hues of hunter within forest tabby-swirl and splotch til they are but a spotting along her muscular haunches. Nocturnal hues further course the line of her predators ridges and make inky the tenebrous length of a sinuous tail. A ghostly lunar radiance, ever elusive, kisses that space between her eyes with a coy lick of silver, leaving the drama of darkness to limn her defined lines from the delicate arch of outward-curved headknobs to the too-slight uptick of her gentle muzzle. Eventide sighs through a veil of leaves and petals that color the sails of her tidy wings, where an ebony wilderness of bough and blade extend with spanning spars to the point of lethal winghooks. Supple limbs give way to wide paws lost in the verdant growth of ancient ferns while cimmerian talons are glossed with the onyx of sodden soil. |
L'yn watches as Jeniosa hides behind some guy. "Come on, Jen! Don't be afraid! They're only dragons, for Faranth's sake."
Ers'lan tilts his head some as his eyes fall upon Iforian from his stance near the edges of the seats, noting the direction of the brown with a pleased smirk on his face. That's all, just a smirk, that settles and doesn't wane. If he could goad Keziah with a stick from up here, he would, but there would be time for that later. Now is for the observation of whose impressing - important business to mind the newest prospects, even this early. He does stand as out of the way as he can manage, but he does catch the name from Iforian's brown, "Izzuth… Reckon tha thar one be good fer somethin."
Jeniosa watches as the brown leers ever closer, slipping behind Iforian to hide from the frightening brown, of course, when the brown staops right there, she blinks, "Congrats Iffy." She murmurs. Now both her human shields are gone, eep, so she moves towards Inuelle. "Well, we lost both protectors." She chuckles nervously.
To Dance with Shadows Green Hatchling doesn't step out from her egg right away, no, she crouches low and then there's a wriggle and a pounce as she catches a bit of her colorful shell. Her tail swishes and then she's practically prancing across the sand, but at an angle as young legs don't quite take her the direction she wants to go. So she sits a moment to take time to preen and wash her forepaw out with a tongue, even as she surveys the candidates out there on the sands.
Matrin can't help but cast admiring eyes on the green, nodding his agreement with a smirk. "She does indeed, and she obviously knows she deserves getting whatever she wants." He breaks off when the rowdy brown finds his chosen one, dark brows lifting a bit before he nods as if agreeing before offering, "Congratulations, If'an." He stumbles over the new name a bit but his smile is wide and easy. "And you too, Kinzie!" He gives the girl a wave, misses the blue impression all together and leans to say quietly to Esiae, "Those two are going to have their hands full."
The rain beats harder on the roof. Torrential downpour and crackling lightning with booming rumbles that vibrate the stone building.
Romth settles back on his haunches, and makes a sound…and it's a sound that's NOTHING like a humm, and everything like a hummmhmmmhmmmhmmm of laughter. Deep, rolling laughter. Why one particular impression might've caused him such amusement is impossible to say.
Only a few heartbeats later, there's a second, much louder, much closer thunderclap, as if in answer to the one before.
Inuelle actually starts to cry a little, happily. "Congrats Iffy," she says, and quickly wipes her eyes free of tears and laughs, settling in beside Jeniosa. "I guess you're right," and she couldn't be happier for that fact.
Pieces of the shell begin to flake from the Paint Your Palette Blue and Gray Egg as gleaming steel-colored claw tips emerge from the crack. The painted picture upon the surface begins to crumble slowly but surely as, impatient to be free, the hatchling within pries hard enough to finally pop the shell apart. Shattering under the strain, shards fly in several directions, moisture from the egg staining the sands in a few damp drops that quickly evaporate. The masterpiece rises, unveiled at last!
| Listen to the Night Bronze Hatchling |
| Twilight cloaks the elegant form of this small bronze with a nocturnal patina that shadows the copper iridescence of his hide. Cold intelligence glitters with subtle danger in the icy absinthe of his eyes while on the nightshade of tapered muzzle and narrow head, knobs and neckridges are touched blood-red, droplets of the burgundy hue dripping down his neck and across his deep chest before bleeding down to the tip of his sinuous tail. Antique gilt encircles his neck, forming a faint baroque pattern that ends in a fleur-de-lis flare on the center of his chest. Joined from strong shoulders his wings, raven when mantled, flare open to breathe a dusky blush that warms the pallor of fog clouding the thin membranes stretched between ebon wingspars. Wine-laced cognac ripples across lean flanks and taut underbelly, dimming to sunset-bronzed stonework on fore and hind legs where dark moss clings to talons ending in rapier-sharp claws of steel grey. This lithe, serpentine dragon, sleek musculature perfectly proportioned for aerial speed, moves with agility and a predatory grace that is beautiful - and deadly. |
Listen to the Night Bronze Hatchling stands for a long moment amongst the ruin of his shell, the dark hide of his lithe body glistening damply, his tail lashing while he studies the wreckage at his feet. With a snort that seems to say, 'I have prevailed despite your best attempt to imprison me,' he then lifts his head proudly and surveys the world he has entered but for a moment before he begins to move. His first steps are nothing like some of the awkward, stumbling steps of his siblings. His steps are measured, calculated - he's taking his time with a sinuous grace that appears to have him flowing across the sands as he approaches the candidates.
Ontali freezes for a moment, apparently cottoning on to the fact that the other AWLMs are occupied and there are two new Weyrlings to lead off — but she's always been a problem solver. "Congratulations, If'an, Kinzie." She calls, striding closer carefully, smiling. "Why don't we get Izzuth and Szadith over here for food?"
Soriana grins. "See! There you go!" she says as the demanding green Impresses Kinzie - but then her gaze wanders on. Other hatchlings, other Imporessings, and all in all pretty well too much to keep up with! Not that she doesn't try, oh no. Green again, and… oooh! "A bronze!"
Esiae blinks hard as not one, but three hatchlings impress in very quick succession. She's going to have whiplash at this rate! Not really, but she's definitely swinging her head back and forth before the impressions sink in and she gives a huge cheer. "Congratulations, you guys!" There's no time for individual remarks, given the speed with which they're carted off, but she makes a mental note to tell If'an and Kinzie later, even as she glances over at Matrin with a smirk. "Ohhh, you can bet on that. Such vivid personalities… luckily, they've got bold ones to match-eek!" The thunder booming definitely plays havoc with her nerves, but she tries to smooth it over with a cough and an ahem. "Anyways… ah, shards. Look at that bronze. He's… something else." So much so that he renders a harper speechless!
Jeniosa watches green and bronze, absently tugging her braid forward to start fiddling nervously with its tip. "I knew Iffy'd impress you know." She murmurs to Inuelle quietly. "Look, the bronze is pretty isn't he? And that one's so dark." Well, at least she's not fleeing, right? Maybe she's just hoping it will all be over soon so she can rest her tattered nerves.
Seeds of Change Egg has quietly been continuing the ancient battle between shell and hatchling since the dragons started humming. Amid the chaos of the Hatching, it splits asunder and deposits a burly brown hatchling onto the Sands. The stout little fellow is a nearly perfect, even shade of deep sienna from head to tailtip, with just a bit lighter shade on his underside and wingsails. He shakes his thickset head from side to side to clear his vision, and then makes like a landslide towards the Candidates. A few moments later, he arrives out of the commotion at the side of a young woman from the Smithcraft, who beamingly announces his name to the Weyrlingmaster that comes to claim them, "Says his name is Wanreath!" Laylanna, now Lanna, leads her new lifemate away to find some food.
The Dance with Shadows Green Hatchling suddenly darts across the sands again, chasing after something that has caught her attention and then suddenly she stops. She lifts her nose a moment as if she smells something quite delicious. She turns and crouches. Then there's a single step, then another as she begins to stalk. Something or someone has caught her attention, someone standing there, waiting to be pounced.
Matrin tugs on Esiae's hand when she jumps, pulling her a little closer. "It's just the weather. I bet it's a gorgeous dark sky streaked with lightning," he reminds her, trying to briefly paint the picture in her mind even as the sand at their feet trembles. Then his breath too is stolen, not by Romth or nature but by the bronze that splits his shell. "He is," he agrees, no more eloquent. "And a different kind of handful by the look of things. I'm starting to feel for the Weyrlingmasters." He gives the girl who is now Lanna a congratulatory wave on her way past.
Listen to the Night Bronze cannot seem to find what he is looking for! He prowls down the line of white-robedthings, snorting hot breath as he rejects one after the other. There's a moment where he stops before Esiae, padding closer if she backs away, pressing in to inhale her scent, nostrils flaring as the hem of her robe actually gets sucked within them, tickles and is sneezed out. Shaking his head, he moves on several more steps then pauses to eye the stands, eyes glinting icefire in their green depths, glimmers of yellow, hints of red beginning to flash as his tail whips once and is still. No, not up there, what he wants is nearby. He can sense it! He moves on…
L'yn holds his breath without realizing it. He leans forward, intently watching his cousin and the few dragonets still there on the prowl for their lifemates.
Medley of Nature Egg began with a slow start, and continues that almost deliberate pace. Glacially inspired wobbling slowly gave way to only slightly more quickly paced wiggles, and then a small spider-webby crack right between two of the larger pear-green blobs. Eventually, that crack spreads, and a less than enthused hatchling beak pokes out for its first breath of air. Eventually, the Medley of Nature Egg splits into a pair of halves, with a thick-set green resting in the larger of the two shards. She actually sits there for several heart-beats, the heat drying her hide to reveal she's a shade of green somewhere between velvety lime and shocking electric emerald. Lackidasicially, she drags herself out of her shell, and scrabbles herself towards the waiting Candidates, but seems content to gaze into the eyes of the first being she meets, a shy looking girl who has been nervously chewing her fingernails down to bloody quicks. "Pwylth?" One gnawed on finger goes to rub across the thick green's broad forehead, but by then Alasi's all smiles, "Yes!"
Fl'ynn is also a pouncer, a very wet pouncer as he sidles into the caverns. Dripping from his dark hair, the teen meanders his way past this person and that, bumping forward to take a spot kinda shoulder-to-shoulder with Lan. "I didn't miss any good maulings, did I?"
"Oi, back off!" It's not clear /what/ Alzanbri is hollering about, but the lad crosses his arms over his chest and glares with intent, hand scruffing along his jaw. "C'mon, c'mon." A quiet hum of hopeful fear, and, still not glancing around, he relaxes minutely. Enough, at least, to smile briefly at the vividly green dragonet and her new rider. Still, it's only a brief respite, then he's back to staring.
Ontali emerges from Weyrling-stashing maybe a little bit winded — she pauses, hands on her hips, to eye the new hatchlings with curiosity. The newer pairs are led off by the other Weyrlingmasters; and Tali doesn't mind! Nope. She pants, instead, eyes narrowed at the scattered eggs and hatchlings.
Esiae angles a look up at Matrin, debating on whether to be fiesty or rational. Both emotions cross her face, but she settles for the latter, relaxing her shoulders and letting his words form the image in her head. "Shards, yeah. It'd be a pretty sight from the tree cafe," she muses, perhaps noting that for the future. Her mouth opens again, perhaps to add comment to the handful discussion, when that bronze she'd been admiring stops right in front of her. Well duh, of course she backs away, but only as far as Matrin's hand will let her go. Any other time, the image of her hem being sucked up a dragon snout would make her fall over laughing, but… well, it's safe to say she only breathes again when the dragonet moves on. "…. That was terrifying."
Something creels from within the Forms in Celestial Darkness egg, the first hint of a dark shape showing as the hatchling thumps against one of the cracked walls of its prison. A moment later, the egg turns, and with final heave, the egg splits into three pieces, revealing its occupant, now sprawled backwards on the sands. The largest chunk of eggshell, having been lobbed by that final kick, skitters to a stop a few feet from the nearest of the white-robbed candidates.
| Truth Behind False Divinity Gold Hatchling |
| Dusky shades of tarnished gold sweep across this queen's svelte hide like glittering coins left to the elements. Deep shadows show in the craggy places giving the impression of grime that isn't actually there. Muddy goldenrod stains each angular talon, stretching up along her long limbs and laying in haphazardly speckled patterns over the length of her neck. The mire washes over her back, curving in splotches along her sides before stretching out to dip even the fork of her long tail in its hue. The wide stretch of her wings are held by strong, stable spars, the ends of each murky as if they have been dipped into the same dark chocolate that clings to her neckridges. The soft stretch of sails bare hints of other colors where the light reflects, the speckled pattern showing like some distant nebula of space contained within the folds of her wings. There is some light to this queen, though. Bright touches of maize cling to her underbelly, lightening the places along her limbs and drawing her out of darkness. The most striking thing, though, is the way the color marks her muzzle and eyeridges, the pale shade masking her nose and lightening around whirling faceted eyes. |
Truth Behind False Divinity Gold Hatchling seems confused for a moment. Her sudden, upside-down emergence into the sight and sound of the hatching grounds seems to take her a few breaths to recover from. The little queen flops sideways and looks up at Seryth, creeling once with confusion, then catches a glint of something in the stands, cutting off the sound. Maybe it's just a passing firelizard, but the flash of color, the movement of the people, it all seems to draw her attention with wonderous eyes, talons smoothly pushing her onto her feet as she takes those first hesitant steps - in the wrong direction.
Soriana glances up toward Zan at his shout, looking perplexed but then turning back towards the sands with a shrug. There are dragons down there! Like the new-hatched… gold! Sori's eyes widen, and she lets out an ooooh, leaning forward for a better look.
Ers'lan continues to watch the hatchlings, noting the color, size, and what few moments from the galleries he can view of their personalities. He is caught off guard at Fl'ynn's voice abruptly next to him, blue eyes darting to regard the younger rider, "Aye, ya almost did. Reckon thar be a brown down thar tha impressed ta Iforian. T'was close ta bitin, just knocked some over instead." He smirks, "Reckon iffin If'an does good, boy might be a decent addition-" he pauses mid sentence, grabbing Fl'ynn to twist him a bit, "Whar is that-" a point as he lets Fl'ynn go, "Whar -is- that? Ya steal it off someone?" A hint of mirth there, but shock too, "Yer nar really -Wingleader- … ?!" Totally missing the gold for this.
Matrin sucks in a breath as the bronze pays so much attention to Esiae. He doesn't let her go but he does tense - perhaps preparing to shove her out of the way if the hatchling should seem a danger. It probably wouldn't have turned out well, so it's good that he moves on, letting the harper turned candidate draw a shaky breath. "You alright?" He catches a glimpse of tarnished gold and there goes his breath again as he turns his attention that way. "She's lovely," he breathes. "A gorgeous clutch all around so far."
Romth lifts his head back up at the wayward gold, and gives a loud croooon of sound…YOU! Get back here, you! You're going the wrong direction! Seryth…tell her she's going the wrong way!
Sorayah leans forward as the bronze and the gold appear. There's an appreciative whistle and she gives a few tiny claps, but for once the talkative harper is mostly quiet. Though….she really can't help the oohs and aahs.
Zinesha wanders up the stands just as the gold is hatching and the young girl ohs softly. "So pretty." and she's hurrying down to the railing instead of a seat. "Oh look, she's coming this way!" she exclaims.
Jeniosa blinks as the celestial looking egg splits in three, the shell skittering acros towards her and the other candidates, she instinctively backpedals, tugging Inuelle with her maybe. The gold that emerges, however, catches the beastcrafter's attention. "Oh wow. She's gorgaous." And shiny, Jeniosa likes shiny things, so for the moment she watches the young queen, waiting to see if she corrects her angle of movement.
L'yn chuckles at the little Queen. Cute!
Inuelle watches Esiae's inspection by the bronze with momentary anxiety, then watches yet another pair moving off the sands together. Then of course, a gold is hatched, and Inuelle breaths. "Oh she's beautiful," she takes a step backwards when Jeniosa pulls her back. "Oh, it looks like she's a bit confused."
Alzanbri rolls his eyes at the wayward dragonet who wanders towards the sands, eyebrows flashing towards his hairline. "Shoo, you! G'wan, other way." He takes his opportunity to flick his hands a little, shaking his head in exasperation at the antics of the little one. "Shells." He snickers, but again; it's brief, before he's focused once more on a dot in the mass of white dots.
Fl'ynn reaches up to rub the back of his hand against his nose, wiping away any such drops of rainwater. Dark eyes watch the sands and all the chaos upon such, picking out gold and green and bronze and so many colors. Hearing Lan's voice, the teen turns his head, looking across to Ers'lan with a broad grin. "I stole a pie once and got spanked for it. I stole a flask once and got spanked for that too. I never thought to steal a wingleader's knot for a spankin' as well… but no, this is legit, sexy."
KRRRSSSSHKABOOM!!! The lights flicker and go out, leaving the sands in darkness!
Esiae nods to Matrin, breathing hard as her heartbeat tries to resume some semblance of a normal rate. "Yeah, I'm fine now, but I thought he was… Well, either very, very mistaken, or about to dismember me," she admits with a nervous laugh, finding some humor in what could have been a bad situation. She huffs out a huge sigh, clinging tightly to the other harper's hand while using her free one to wipe away the sweat on her forehead. This gives her time to survey the hatching grounds, observing recent impressed pairs, the shadowy green that's still wandering, and then the hatching of her favorite egg. "Shards, but she is," the girl notes to Mat, taking a long moment to admire her muddied-coin beauty before issuing a snort. "Shells, yeah. I've seen some pretty awful ones, back in Ista. Ugliest brown you've ever seen in your—" And then the lights go out, and it'll be a miracle if Matrin ever recovers the use of his hand again, due to her sudden clenching grip on it.
Ers'lan suddenly breaks out into laughter, putting his arm around Fl'ynn, "Aye. Legit ya say. I reckon I dun narh believe that, but iffin ya be do sayin so. Looks like a drink is in order!" Of course, at this point his attention reverts back to the sands, noting the presence of the gold and the bronze… until darkness. "So much fer that, huh?" Of course at this point he's tensing up and drawing his arm back, "Whar be the glows!" he bellows out, hoping someone decided to bring them tonight.
Ontali is only vaguely prepared for more hatchlings, and is a little busy /eyeing/ the poor confused lass who's gone walkabout. She hardly has time or attention for that, though — pretty suddenly, she's forced to work on her night vision. "Shardit!" Okay, so that's not the most Weyrlingmasterly remark in light of the newest event, but she can't help it. "Stay calm, guys," Striding closer slowly to the candidates, just in case, the bluerider frowns. "We'll probably get the lights back in a minute." Right, calm. Because honestly, that's reasonable!
Soriana stares intently down at the…. suddenly very very dark sands! "Wha?" she manages, and then a just-as-coherent, "But!" How's she supposed to see what's going on without any light? She can't miss this, it'd be… be… be… she wants to see! She wants to seeeeee iiiiiiiit!
Jeniosa got to see the pretty gold before darkness at least. Wait, darkness! And she doesn't have her two shields. She squeals as the lightsw go out and the sands are plunged into darkness. "Oh..shards." Okay, now where were those other candidates? She's all disorientated now, the beastcrafter doesn't like being disorientated.
To Dance with Shadows Green Hatchling has started to pick up speed as she sees that the one to be pounced isn't even paying attention. Even better. She moves quickly, silently and then as soon as the lights go out she leaps. She's sure her aim is perfect, albeit it's a little clumsy but she has the one she seeks.
The sudden crack of lightning is unexpected, causing Mishkia to jump and the little queen on her lap squeaks and disappears Between instantly. The woman sighs, frustrated with her own reaction, settles back into her seat with a little disgusted flump. “I hope I haven’t lost her for him,” she murmurs to herself in the dark while straining to listen to the sounds from below rather than the exclamations around her.
Truth Behind False Divinity Gold Hatchling only gets to wander off for a moment before the huge head of her mother, Seryth, appears and blocks the hatchling's way. Small wings flutter as some silent conversation passes between the two. With a trilling chirrup, the smaller dragon turns her attention in the direction of the line of white-robed figures. At least, in the direction she remembered them being. When did it get so dark? Still, something seems to have emboldened the little queen, who straightens her shoulders and walks dutifully towards the shadowy line of figures. She tries to cast a look back at Seryth, but even the big form is just a darker splotch against dark. With a brave flick of her tail, she strives forward towards the unknown.
Matrin nods along with Esiae, "I like that she's a little murky, not your typical glowing -" But then he goes stiff when the light disappears and darkness descends. It's not just the sudden gloom which would make anyone a little nervous, but instead the thought of unseen hatchlings floundering around in the black, reaching out with talons to try and find their way. Not concerned with the state of his hand, he shifts closer to Esiae. "Calm, like Ontali said, and stay still. Maybe that will help them find us. Poor little confused gold is probably totally lost now."
"Ooooh darkness!" Sora's squeal sounds….delighted? She leans forward, hanging onto the rails and giggling in the darkness. "I do want to see though. Aren't there generators or something?"
Alzanbri's howl of anger might just be heard in Ista as the storm (…that he hasn't previously really noticed, he's too busy!) knocks out the lighting. "NO!" It's a healthy bellow for such a small guy, as he glances towards the call for glows and the general chaos of the stands briefly. Still — it can't even sort of compete with that of the sands, and he's leaning on the rails now, eyes straining to see.
There's a loud electrical hum, the generator kicks in and the lights flicker back on. Outside the rain continues.
Listen to the Night Bronze freezes, head lowers nearly to the sand as his neck snakes out ahead of him, eyes fixed on a figure further down the line. He remains still for so long that Seryth gives a chuff from over where she reclines. The bronze hatchling curls his neck around to give her a cool look that seems to say, 'I know what I'm doing' then his neck sways back towards the front, his forward movement a smooth, slithering ground-eating stride that eats the distance in an eyeblink. Candidates scatter before him as they flee out of harm's way and he halts abruptly, wings flared, claws digging into the sand before a tall, dark-haired male Candidate, lifting his head with a dignified nonchalance to make visual contact with those bright blue eyes.
Inuelle actually shrieks when the lights go out! She clutches at Jen's arm and stars up at the ceiling. "Oh no!" she says. Fortunately the lights do come back on and she has to blink her eyes several times to regain her bearings. "Shards."
Jeniosa gives another squeal, well more like a screech as she feels something slam into her chest, staggering backwards and losing her footing to smack down on the sands. Huff puff huff puff, oh wait, she's still alive? She's still alive! And there's something else. "Yours? Jessi? Wait, I'm not Jessi, I'm Jeniosa. And I'm starving too Aisuohkoth." Hey, wait. "She..her name's Aisuohkoth." The beastcrafter turned weyrling now manages out, trying to get herself out from under the dark green in the darkness.
Fl'ynn is plunged into darkness… and then there is light again. "Pretty sure someone goosed me in the dark." His voice lifts, "Whoever it was, you are welcome to do so in the light as well." His eyes remain upon the sands, trying to catch what he might have missed. "Oh hey… she impressed." A slow grin forms on his lips, but his head tilts back to Ers'lan, "I'll take a drink, a flask, a barrel. All of the good stuff."
L'yn can't help it. He jumps up as the Green picks his cousin. He almost dances around he's so happy for her. "All right! That's my cousin there! Oh yeah! She Impressed! Well done, Jenni!"
Matrin's poor lungs are having a rough time tonight, stopping, starting, gasping, stuttering. When the lights flicker back he gives them the chance to relax and go back to their normal easy pattern, but it is, alas, a brief thing. Before he even has a chance to really register what is happening, there is a streak of dark bronze and his hand goes limp, falling out of Esiae's grasp as he comes eye to eye with the sleek bronze hatchling. It's a long stretching moment and he only shivers himself back from whatever mental plane he slipped into when the dragon drops his head and nips at his back. "Oh yes, food," murmurs the newly christened M'trin. "This way, Volenth."
Mishkia leans forward when the lights blink back on. There’s a chrip from under her seat and the little queen crawls out, hops back onto her lap where the woman’s hands once again cradle her. As that little bronze circles back and makes a run towards where Matrin is standing a little yelp escapes her lips causing the queen sitting in her lap to squawk. Her hand instantly relaxes, but her eyes remain riveted to the scene below and she’s now holding her breath. The hatchling plows to a stop right before her harper friend and impression! She can’t help it – she jumps up and…well she can’t clap so she hugs the tiny queen to her chest whispering to her joyfully, “He did it! He did it!” Yeah, she has no idea what it all means for them both but she’s obviously thrilled for him.
Ers'lan is looking up and half turned to attempt his way in the dark, when the lights flicker back on. Oh hey, look at that. He blinks as he pivots back to Fl'ynn then a look to the sands, "She?" curiosity and he's certainly intrigued by that look. "Fl'ynn… yer narh tellin me somethin…" a smug smile creeping on his face, "'N they be worried bout me…" he chides, nudging Fl'ynn. Hey, he wasn't born yesterday.
Ontali blinks, dazedly, as the lights come back on — and hey look, she's close to her quarry anyways. "Well," She smiles for the green and bronze pairs, nodding in what could be a calm kind of fashion. "Congratulations. If you'll come with me? We can get them some food." The bluerider smiles brightly, offers one towards the Candidares remaining around Jessi and M'trin, then starts off at a dragonet-amenable pace for food.
Esiae would like to be comforted, but instead she's shaking like a leaf, eyes wide with trying to see in the dark. "Calm, yeah, I'm calm." No she's not, if her voice is anything to judge by, but she tries. In a moment, the generators kick in and the light is restored, but it's enough to have derailed the candidate. "That was…" She trails off and shakes her head, attempting to leave the moment behind and focus on the happenings around them instead. "Well, maybe not so - look, she's turned around and is heading our way, Matrin." Pause. "Matrin?" In the chaos, that bronze must have doubled back, because suddenly he's back and acting all dignified. Esi lets go at the same time that the harper's hand goes limp, managing to stare after him for a long moment before issuing a literal squeal of delight.
Romth turns his big head…but instead of regarding the hatchlings OR his mate…he gives his wide-eyed rider a good shove…very nearly knocking the Weyrleader off the platform. To say that the Istan-shelled bronze looks smug would be an /understatement/.
Truth Behind False Divinity Gold Hatchling seems to have finally set herself to the task at hand, eyes focusing as the lights flicker on. Her sure-footed path takes her right on by a few male forms, ignoring them for the most part. She blows a whuffle of hot breath at their ankles and moves right along. After bypassing a few girls with only a sniff and a glance, she takes a step back, letting her eyes move along the row of candidates. This is harder than it looks. Her tail flicks once, and then her head tilts, as if hearing something that isn't audible to anyone else on the sands. Curious, she takes a single step forward, then another, in no great rush but with determined steps until she finally stops, looking up into the eyes of a girl with flowing blonde hair and wild brown eyes. She croons softly, reaching her head out towards the girl's hands.
With a triumphant cry it seems that the Truth Behind False Divinity Gold Hatchling has found its partner at last and impression is made!
Xe'ter rights himself even as the gold impresses…and then is still in the process of getting up on the platform again when he notices the relative quiet on the Sands. He clears his throat, and then moves up to stand by Thea's side once more.
Fl'ynn turns as well to meet Lan's look. He breaks out into a laugh, giving his clutchmate something of a nudge. "I have fun." A pure and simple statement. "You like to have fun too. /We/ like to have fun." He flashes him a generous wink, gaze returning to the sands to watch the last of the impressions.
Esiae almost doesn't know what to do, now that she's been left behind. Fingers fiddle with her shift, palms flatten to clean themselves again… and then she frowns, eyes flicking around frantically as though trying to discern where some foreign noise is coming from. It's approaching, or so it seems, and is so very, very familiar… "Oh." That is all she can manage at first, realization mixing with a wash of surprise and warmth. The girl stills, basking for a long moment in words and emotions… and then issues forth a loud giggle. "Well shells, I dunno. You I guess." Sheepishness takes over though, the harper's head shaking. "Of course, let us start with food, Sonyxaeth, and then we shall move on from there." Wrapping her arm around the tarnished gold's neck, grin plastered all over her face, Esiae heads off the sands.
Ontali emerges from the food-bearing corner with a bounce and occasional glance up at the ceiling. Just in case. Her path is clear, the candidates seem to be behaving, and over across the way one of her colleagues has a minor mischief maker in hand. All is well! She even slants an amused smirk to the Weyrleader's dragon, before catching on to the newest pair out there. "Huh." A grin, and the bluerider starts forward, grinning. "Sonyxaeth? I'm glad she found her way. Want to come with me? We can get her fed." She falls in step, escorting cheerily, and returning a minute later.
Mishkia rises after the gold hatchling impresses, deftly navigating her way through the jostling crowd. “Let’s get you back to Mat- M’trin,” she murmurs softly to the tiny queen. “I’m sure you’re missing him. I know I do.”
Alzanbri flops back onto his seat just in time to surge forward again, this time in alarm — first, there's that bronze who hovers near his mark, then there's that lost little gold going for her like she has a reason to be there. WAIT. "Oh." The lights may be affecting Zan's sanity; or maybe not, since he seems to know instinctively that it's not a misstep or mistake. "Sh…shells." A shaky hand gets up to pass over his eyes, and then the boy rises, never mind his surprise or future thoughts on the matter. He WHOOPS. "YEAH, ESI!" There's a laugh of pure adrenaline release, as he abruptly sits back down; when did he even stand up? "I TOLD YOU SO!" …maturity, right? Clearing his throat, Zan doesn't bother to glance around and see who he might have offended. Nope! He focuses on the sands once more, eyes narrowed, smirking faintly.
As the last Weyrling pair is escorted off the sands, Seryth calls after it, but seems resigned to the inevitable, flipping her wings back and folding them. For a moment she allows her rider to comfort her, leaning into the ridge-scratching the Weyrwoman is giving her, then the queen nudges her and lifts her head. She's no longer stuck on the sands and moves towards the entrance, passing the remaining Candidates as she heads off towards the feeding grounds. The Weyrwoman follows , stopping before the group with a gentle smile, "I'm sorry it did not happen for you this time, but you are all welcome to remain at Xanadu for as long as you like. There will be other clutches in the future and who knows? Perhaps things will be different next time. For now though, you should change and join the feast." And so saying, she shoos them towards the Barracks, offering one forlorn girl a one-armed hug about the shoulders as she walks her on out.
Outside the lightning flickers in the distant north, far off muted rumbles giving voice to the storm that still vents its fury as it moves away. The rain is still pouring down, however. Have fun with that people!