Xanadu Weyr - Hatching Sands
A domed ceiling stretches high above the sands, enough open air for a queen and her mate to be comfortable with their clutch. Thin slits of windows around the edges let in a little light, though more of the illumination comes from electric lamps diffused off the dome. The sands are ringed by the dark blue seats of the observation level, the first third exposed to the sweltering heat of the sands but those in the back glassed off for the comfort of those watching.
The circle itself is filled with a mix of red and white sands, deep enough to cover the largest of dragon eggs with ease. To one side, a small door is visible, hidden away behind a platform meant to provide a place for the clutch parent's lifemates to stand during the on goings.
Once again it's Ila'den leading the assembled class of candidates onto the sands, sleeves rolled up to his elbows (again), hands on his hips as he stops at the edge and, with only a moment's hesitation, sinking into a dip for Garouth and Inasyth regardless of whatever FANTASTICAL AMAZING DRAGON PARENT THINGS THEY ARE DOING. LOOKING SUPER CUTE AND BADASS, WE HAVE NO DOUBT. "Bow," comes Ila'den's guttural rasp, "and make sure you don't make Mom and Dad angry." But that's all the more formal the candidates get before Ila'den is stepping off to the side, leaning against the wall with arms crossed over his chest while the class files in slow and work up their courage to start touching eggs again.
Inasyth is mangling wearing a hat! It's super cute and super tiny and totally not pierce by a Leirith tooth and talon before it was even handed to her and even if it would she'd love it all the more. « Only angry I'll be is angrily proud!!! » She bubbles to dragon-kind while the gold physically rumbles her own version of delighted laughter. At least she's mostly gotten over the need to loom encouragingly when candidates enter the sands and lounges over by the side where she can still supervise and not risk disrupting her hat's precarious balance.
Zaira is near the forefront this time. This is, after all her third touching. She bows low to Garouth and Inasyth before making her way onto the Sands with quiet dignity…far more formal than her sometimes overexuberant attitude. There was only one egg left she had not yet touched and as the Candidates dispperse amongst the eggs she heads straight for it, hoping desperately it won't be like the one that gave her nightmares last night. But who could know what lurked in a little draconic mind? For good or ill she is ready to face this. Calmly she squats on the balls of her feet as one hand stretches out to make fully contact with the almost iridescent egg's flank.
Zaira can almost feel a sea wind on the breeze…something she remembered from her days growing up at Shadow Ravine cothold, and something, she realizes, that she had missed. Well that was neither here nor there, what was HERE was the eggs and the baby dragons inside them, and these had her main focus…even her music had somewhat fallen by the wayside. She laughs, enjoying the sensations. She goes for the two-handed approach again, bringing her other hand up to splay next to the first. She half closes her eyes in a mixture of bliss and concentration as she asks the egg what other secrets it holds.
Zaira chuckles again, freeing one hand for a moment to run through her long bangs and hip-length hair. Eyes widen at the thought of discovering something new, something she didn't have to share with anyone unless she wished to do so. To have something of her own to cherish, to treasure, to value, be it some material possession, what she couldn't bring to mind now or someone living, willing to share in her life and love her…despite all her flaws that she usually hid so well from others. The second hand comes back up. The Candidate knows this egg has more to tell…it's always been 3 visions on all the others before.
Zaira shivers but this egg was not vicious. It seemed definately curious…a good question it has asked her. Did she have a good answer? She hopes she'll be able to come up with one before the Hatching Day. A soft sigh and Zaira rises, breaking contact with the egg and stepping away to let other Candidates have their chance to touch it. Well, Zaira had succededin touching all the eggs! She allows herself a trill of pride before getting things under control again. The question was what did she do now, aside from step over to the side and get a drink of water?
Zachariah is ready. He knows what ( mostly) to expect. Plenty of water was drunk before coming onto the sands to hopefully aid in the heat. He bows, a little less stiff that the first time ever, to the parents who hopefully are doing cute dragon parent things and not other naughty not for television dragon parent things. "No making mom and dad angry. That I can do." he declares after said bow is completely. Then it's on to the eggs! A couple eggs get light touches, such as Mollusk Magnetism and the Frozen Rainbow one but he doesn't linger at those. Nope. It's on to a whole new one for him!
< Zachariah touches egg 6 - Something Green and Growing Egg >
Seems whatever Zaira does next is up to her. Ila'den's attention finds her the moment she steps away from that egg, brow rising while she goes unpursued — at least for now — by the AWLM. "Alright, Zaira?" comes low and raspy, never once raising his voice to be heard over the hushed din of candidates as they shuffle through the motions of touching eggs and keeping enough wits about them to not fall face-first onto them.
Zachariah's eyes close involuntarily as his vision abruptly changes. Away from the sands and into memories perhaps long forgotten for whatever reasons. "Oh hey…wait, I forgot that…" his eyes open again after a minute with a surprised look around as if he'd forgotten briefly where he was.
Zaira flips a casual salute to the AWLM. "Fine, thank you," she answers. "I've had my at all of them now and it's time to step aside so others might be able to take theirs." She does take a swallow of water from her glass. Apparently not quite ready to leave the Sands and content to just LOOK at the eggs in all their glorious shinging beauty.
"Don't salute me, Zaira," comes soft (or, well, as soft as Ila'den's voice can be, given the grit and gravel quality of it) with just a hint of amusement from Ila'den. "And don't disrupt the others." Still, he seems content to leave her to her water and her watching, attention pulling back towards the candidates among the eggs as he lapses back into attentive silence.
Zachariah's brows furrow together, a stubborn line creasing his forehead as his head shakes slightly in some denial. He peers intently at the egg, his fingers tracing the lines of green. "Nuuh…wait. Don't go…" he says towards the egg. The gritty words of Ila does drift over towards him breaking his focus just enough for him to look up. "I thought we were supposed to salute everyone." he must know the rules. It sustains him. Not to mention he really isn't actually good at the whole saluting thing yet. Keeps poking his poor eye!
Zaira finishes her water slowly and then sighs almost inaudiably. The barracks were calling her. It was time to do more studying on her lessons. So again she bows low to the proud parents and turns on her heel, long hair flowing like a cloak about her body as she is off, long low strides taking her determinedly to the Candidates' home.
Zachariah's words pull Ila'den's attention back to him, and for a moment — just a moment — the Assistant Weyrlingmaster says nothing. But then, finally, he rasps a low growl of, "Everyone who doesn't ask you not to salute them, Zachariah." As if this is the obvious answer to an obvious question. But his tone never once changes, inflection never faltering, that cadence as steady as it is hushed, voice never once raising.
Zachariah straightens and stretches with several muffled pops creaking down his spine with just a slight twist. Ah, the joys of youth. "Too much pink." he whispers to the egg. He could perchance like this egg if the occupant promises never to drown him in so much pink ever again. Or it could be that this egg holds his dragon and he must learn to like pink. One never knows! As the obvious, to anyone but Zach really, answer is given he can't resist saying something else after he's stepped away from the pink green egg. "But you have to salute them at least once before learning that they don't like to be saluted." so therefor to his logic he gets one free salute to Ila before being yelled at for saluting. That comment said he looks back and picks his next egg!
< Zachariah touches egg 5 - Ready or Not Egg >
A beat, and low, rumbling laughter chases Zachariah's observation, short-lived though the sound might be. Still, that hint of amusement lingers in ther corner of Ila'den's lips, is manifest in that hint of canines as he rasps, "Aye, but I'm telling you now, Zachariah. Don't salute me." Another beat, "And while we're at it, don't call me sir, either." IT'S AN INVITATION, ZACH. AND YOU WON'T LIKE THE INVITE.
Zachariah's last thought before touching the hardening shell was of saluting or lack of saluting so, that thought is completely lost. That raspy order of no saluting might have been heard. The real question remains if it was actually comprehended is a different story. For now though he's communing with this egg. Drawing in a quick breath there's an unreadable expression on the teen's face. Nothing more is said to Ila. FOR NOW! Nope, he waits patiently to see if there is more to this egg.
Velorn is NOT late, this time. Nope. He's been here the entire time, filing in with the other candidates like a good little trundlebug. He's just been taking his time to meander among the clutch, admiring the colorful eggs— after bowing to Inasyth and Garouth, of course. There comes a time when wandering has to come to an end, though, and that time appears to be now. There's a hint of caution in his movements as he approaches the Feeble Fortress Egg, tilting his head to just observe the blue and… sand… colored egg, one hand hesitatingly reaching for the blue crown.
< Velorn touches egg 3 - Feeble Fortress Egg >
Zachariah runs a hand through his hair, just long enough it's gotten a little curly. It's obviously a movement born of habit, betraying some sort of nervousness within the youth. He breaks contact with the egg briefly as a slow and shaky breath is taken in. Somewhere in the back of mind, gritty and raspy words register somewhat and he feels obliged to making another remark towards Ila. "No saluting." he notes. "Yes sir." OOPS! Not everything registered. Maybe. It's said in a casual enough tone that it doesn't sound like it's a challenge. However he now looks back once more to the egg and waits to see if there is more bombardment of words and things and stuff.
Look. Listen. Look. Even if it was taken as a challenge, Ila'den's brow rises in a gesture that Zachariah definitely doesn't see, and then he laughs. Again. Low pitched, rough, and gritty, and ending on another pull of his lips that's wolfish at best. But don't worry, Zachariah. You're safe — FOR NOW. Ila'den's attention merely pulls away from the egg-distracted candidate to take in all the others equally enthralled by each touch of acquaintance against varied shells.
One corner of Velorn's mouth curves up in a half smile and he sighs, the cautious tension that had held his shoulders stiff melting away. His head tilts back, just a bit, as though basking and he pulls in a deep breath. Oh, this one's nice. A quiet giggle— yes, journeyman computer crafters can giggle, thank you very much!— bursts forth and he shifts his feet in the sand, shuffling closer to the egg only for the grin that had been growing to fade into a vague look of disappointment, "Aww… Come on, baby… Don't leave me hanging like that." He leans in to settle his other hand beside the first, "Show me what you got."
Zachariah will most likely never know how safe he is, for now, from Ila for yes he's completely enthralled within this egg that drowns him in so much! So. SO MUCH! It takes time so much time to process and yet at the same time it's not long at all. There's no wayward son to carry on but her perseveres through everything with slowly taken breaths. Looking thoughtful he eventually departs this egg and after a moments break will head to another.
< Zachariah touches egg 1 - Feathered Frenzy Egg >
Oh. Oh that's much better. Velon's grin returns and he drops onto his heels to squat beside the egg, hands sliding down the sides and forearms resting on his knees. He takes a deep breath and lets it out in a satisfied huff, another laugh laugh, not giggle rumbling forth. Blue eyes close as he tilts his head back again, evidently enjoying himself. There's a definate sense of peace and happiness radiating from him that lingers even after he blinks his eyes back open to look back at the egg he's practically hugging, "Oh! It's a sand hold!" There's another laugh at the relization of what the pattern on the shell reminds him of.
Zachariah is growing more comfortable with each egg so as he touches this one there is no hesitancy at all. Mere acceptance as he tilts his head slightly to one side in contemplation. He waits for more.
So many questions, so…so many questions. Zachariah, though, doesn't seem to resent the intrusion of so many questions any more as his mind seems to flash answers faster than he can think of them. He doesn't leave the smaller egg yet as he waits.
Zachariah utters a sound of surprise but before he can remove his hand he's looking around as if confused to find himself on the sands. Shaking his head a bit he steps back to recollect his thoughts. He tries for a casual look around. He's fine. Just fine! After a minute he does end up moving to one more egg.
< Zachariah touches egg 7 - Perfectly Calm and Peaceful Egg >
Velorn shivers, just a little, as his hands shift to a slightly different spot on either side of the warm shell. He shakes his head in amusement, eyes closed as he just… basks in the moment. That grin of his doesn't fade, making him look younger than his twenty turns. He licks his lips, whining playfully, "Tease." Now he wants something sweet. Seriously. Sweet and toasty and melty and… mmmm… A contented sigh whispers through his nose and he blinks his eyes back open, leaning in to rest his forehead against the blue of the shell for a moment, "That was wonderful, baby." There's a note of awe in his voice as he lingers there for a moment, not quite ready to move on. Not yet. He can't stay forever, though Inasyth will get tired of him sooner or later. Finally, he forces himself to stand, reluctantly letting his hands fall to his side as he steps back to just admire the whimsical design, "I hope you pick me…" With those murmered words, he turns and walks away, wandering again and just taking a moment to absorb the perfection that was Feeble Fortress Egg. It's a moment later that he finds himself before Something Green and Growing Egg. The last one was amazing. Who's to say that this one won't be, too? There's no hesitation, this time, as he reaches out to lay his hand against the green shell.
< Velorn touches egg 6 - Something Green and Growing Egg >
Zachariah stifles a yelp with a hasty look around. No one saw that right?! Right. Back to the egg he stares at it intently with one hand lightly touching the rough shell. Lifting it, it doesn't seem like he'll put it back down but he eventually does.
Zachariah is the one returning this time. His only outward reacting is a quick jerk of his arm which lifts his hand clear off the egg briefly before returning to the shell. Absently his fingers trace along the shell unseeing as his gaze is off in the distance. Almost gasping he rocks back on his heels a little, contact momentarily breaking from the egg before he regains contact. "Whoa." he draws in deep gulping breaths as if he couldn't breath normally before.
Velorn sways, unsteady for a moment, and leans against the green egg. Not hard, but enough that he's not going to fall over, "Woah." His other hand comes to rest on the shell, too, "Steady." Yeah, he might need to sit down for a minute. After a moment, he flushes and turns his face away.
Velorn shivers, licking his lips and smiling for a moment as he shakes his head. No, he's not- whatever. He startles a little, blinking rapidly, and snorts, "Just because someone makes me mad doesn't mean I want them to suffer." Not like that! "And I'd have had to take care of him." The horror! He shakes his head again and lets one hand fall, distancing himself a little from the immature mind within that green egg.
The slight tension that had snuck back into Velorn eases a little and he nods, "It's okay." Everything is okay. Everything will be okay, "You're still growing. You've got a lot to learn, still." He gives a faint, encouraging sort of smile, "You've got a ways to go, yet, but you'll get there." He's sure that it didn't mean to suggest anything cruel or mean. Faranth knows he's been guilty of being petty before, himself! Especially when rejected. He nods, "Yeah. Someday soon."
The slight tension that had snuck back into Velorn eases a little and he nods, "It's okay." Everything is okay. Everything will be okay, "You're still growing. You've got a lot to learn, still." He gives a faint, encouraging sort of smile, "You've got a ways to go, yet, but you'll get there." He's sure that it didn't mean to suggest anything cruel or mean. Faranth knows he's been guilty of being petty before, himself! Especially when rejected. He nods, "Yeah. Someday soon." There's a soft, encouraging sort of pat before he steps away to move on to the next egg. The caution is back as he slowly approaches Ready or Not Egg.
< Velorn touches egg 5 - Ready or Not Egg >
Zachariah has a lot to occupy his mind so after that last bitey egg he appears done. He offers another bow to the still quiet but surely WATCHING THEM clutch mommy and daddy before he heads over to wherever it is that Ila prowls. "Permission to leave the sands, sir?" he asks. POLITELY!
A beat. Five. TEN. And then Ila'den's lips quirk at one corner, amusement manifesting in the hint of one single canine as that grey eye narrows and he settles further into that lean on the wall. "Only my weyrmate calls me sir, Zachariah. And I'd be more than happy to demonstrate why if you insist on calling me 'sir' again. I'm sure at least one of us will like it." AND IT WON'T BE YOU, ZACH. That smile remains, wolfish and damn-near predatory before he jerks his chin towards the exit. "Go. Before I change my mind."
Zachariah blinks several times in complete confusion. He honestly didn't realize that sir was off limits like saluting. An involuntary step backwards is taken. Maybe it was that mere hint of his single canine and the narrowing of his unpatched eye that worries him. Gulping once he stammers something that could have been an apology. There's no fear of the word 'sir' being in there at any point though. It does include a bit of confusion about weyrmates, he's not totally sure what that means exactly but he's not been in the weyrs long enough to know. But once his slew of words tumbles out of his mouth he's backing up, stumbling over his feet. With his eyes never leaving Ila'den ( in case Ila decides to lunge towards him or something), he gets back to his feet and continues his backwards retreat. Yes, it's a retreat. It's not until he gets to the entrance that he turns around to depart.
Welp. Ila'den watches Zachariah stumble and go down, brows rising as the poor candidate makes an unfortunate acquaintance with gravity before a rasp of laughter escapes him — dark, amused, lingering in the curve of his mouth. "Boo." WELL. YOU KNOW. IT COULD HAVE BEEN WORSE, BUT IT DEFINITELY COULD HAVE GONE A LOT BETTER. It might not be a relief to discover that Ila'den is stepping forward, but it's only to reach out a hand as if he means to help Zachariah back to his feet. Only… Zach finds his footing before Ila'den can reach him, and the AWLM hangs back instead of pursuing. AH WELL. He can hunt him down and SCARE HIM MORE LATER.
Velorn can't help but overhear Ila'den's comment about 'sir' and weyrmates and snorts in a failed attempt to hold back a laugh. He smirks faintly and waggles his eyebrows, "Some people enjoy that kind of thing." Beat, "Sir." ALL THE SASS! And, apparently, a deathwish. Then, however, his attention is pulled back to the egg as he tenses, his free hand coming up to press his knuckles hard against his breastbone. He shakes his head, pulling his hand away from the egg for a moment to frown before reaching out again (TO CONTINUE SINCE I GOT TWO TOUCHES!). He flinches, eyes wide, and jerks away. Nope. Not gonna do it. He just can't. It's too much! He glances at Ila'den and the retreating Zach, his smirk not nearly as confidant as it was before that egg.
VELORN, NO. THIS IS HOW WE GET ANTS, VELORN. DO YOU WANT ANTS? NOBODY!!!! WANTS ANTS. But as Ila'den watches Zachariah go, his attention is pulled back to Velorn by those deathwish words. "Frequently, candidate." They enjoy them frequently. "But you're not tall enough for the ride." RUDE. HE'S RUDE. WE'RE SORRY HE'S RUDE. And while there's another hint of laughter in the pull of his lips, it doesn't really matter, does it? Because Velorn is ONTO HIS NEXT TOUCH and Ila'den's only got a raise of his brows when Velorn's gaze falls on him next.
Velorn is 6'2, thankyouverymuch! He is absolutely tall enough. The blond candidate snorts, rolling his eyes, but, perhaps wisely, chooses not to poke the wher anymore. It takes a moment for him to get his bearings again, moving to stand before the Mollusk Magnetism Egg. Slowly, glacially slowly, he reaches out to brush his fingertips across the shell.
< Velorn touches egg 4 - Mollusk Magnetism Egg >
A confused frown pulls Velorn's brows together and he takes a deep breath, letting it back out slowly. He leans closer, settling his hand more firmly against the shell, "Hello?" Is this thing on? Oh. Wait. He tilts his head, almost looking like he's trying to listen to something. Slowly, so slowly, the tension from the last egg drains out of him, the frown melting away, and a soft smile plays at the corners of his mouth, "There you are…"
"Oh." Velorn blinks a couple of times, that frown returning, but this time looking much more concerned. The frown deepens, breath catching for a moment as he pulls away just a little. Not completely, but… enough to put a little distance between himself and the egg. And then there's a snort, a sly little smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he shrugs and drops down to, once again, squat on his heels. Might as well get comfortable while they wait, right? Blue eyes blink again, "Shrimps" What? He leans in closer, turning his head so that his ear almost touches the shell as though he's listening very intently. And then he snorts, a single bark of laughter ringing out, "Really?!" He sounds incredulous, sitting up a little and shaking his head in amusement, "That's your secret?" Though, really, what sort of secrets could an egg actually have? And then he's shuddering, nose wrinkled in distaste as he rocks back on his heels, "You can stop that now."
It's just so… cute! Velorn chuckles, not unkindly, shaking his head, "A drop, huh?" He glances around, but shrugs, "No water here, little one." And yet more blinking, "Are you okay?" Wow. Geeze! More head shaking and another snort of amusement, "A brush, huh?" Sounds dangerous. Or, you know, not. Well… maybe it depends on the brush? "I guess a wire brush could be painful." The kind used for cleaning rust and other things off of metal. He leans back in again, "Sure." Then he's frowning, shoulders slumping in disappointment, "I can't follow you, little one." There's a note of sadness in his voice and he sighs quietly, sitting back and letting his hands fall, forearms resting on his knees, "Deep thoughts for such a little mind…" And he might need some time to actually process that last bit. He pushes himself back to his feet, looking down at the egg once more before he bows to the clutch parents, again, and walks back toward the exit. Ila'den gets a cockly little smirk and irreverent salute— because he just can't resist poking the wher— but at least he doesn't call him sir again?