Kairoikyriath's and Saburath's Clutch Hatches

This log is rated R for blood and violence. Read at your discretion.

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.

It's another beautiful day at Xanadu. The sun is out, the birds are singing, the— no, that's not right. It's another miserable day at Xanadu. The winds still rage outside, and even though it's midday, the darkened skies allow light that's more akin to evening than mid-afternoon. The rain falls without ceasing, battering those who are unfortunate enough to arrive from the outdoors with relentless fury. The hatching arena itself seems to shudder occasionally with the force of those winds, the massive structure creaking in protest of the never-ending storm. And amidst all of this, those fourteen eggs upon the sands begin to shudder, and the hum reverberates through through the Weyr. Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night…

Thank You for Your Childhood Egg twitches and fidgets where it rests in the sands. Almost like it can't quite contain its excitement and yet isn't quite sure what to do. So it goes still again — for now.

Hope is a Mistake twitches where it rests in the sands, then a shiver and another twitch before it goes still again. Don't be fooled by its calmness!

A sunburnt, island-weary group of candidates traipse onto the sands, lined up and orderly despite the apparent lingering effects of their recent ordeal. They fan out, standing single file, and as one bow politely to Kairoikyriath and Saburath, Innes and E'tan. After battling waterspouts, storms, Rukbat's heat, tunnelsnakes and more, this Hatching is going to be a doddle… right?

It's an anxious Kairoikyriath who greets the candidates on the sands, her bulk still wrapped protectively around her shifting clutch. It's only the firm, surprisingly calm hand of Innes that causes her to relent and unwind, leaving eggs fully visible to the arriving candidates. The queen glances up, searching the galleries, and then up further still before her whirling red-orange gaze settles back upon her clutch. For once, Innes has abandoned her lounge chair, and stands beside Kairoikyriath with a hand on her pale hide, quietly soothing.

Tears In Rain Egg vibrates once, the move barely noticeable until another shake makes it roll to one side. One, two. One, two. It's now beating with an odd rhythm, the shell itself strained with each resonance.

Saburath is not known to be the relaxed kind of dragon. At any level. But oddly as it it may be, he doesn't seem to share Kairoikyriath's anxiousness. Besides his queen and adding his own low tone to the surrounding humming, his huge blue tainted eyes scan the arriving candidates. He seems confident just as the grinning E'tan is. Winds and rain can turn the outside world upside down. It is safe here. And more dry for that matter.

From the Galleries » Neyuni makes her way into the observation level amid the crowd of eager watchers. She looks around a bit, but generally flows with the crowd. It isn't to hard to find a seat and she settles though her attention looks mostly towards the sands below. It seems as if she has an eye out for one or two candidates in particular, her voice adding to the roaring cheer as they make their appearance.

Borrowed Time, Borrowed World Egg shifts in the sands and is still again. It does not move for sometime and when it does it's subtly. No, it is in no rush.

From the Galleries » Despite the dreadful weather, Clan Esiae is here in full force! Well, okay, maybe not full force, but three out of four siblings ain't bad. Tucked midway up the galleries, Esi perches at the end of an isle, with S'gam two seats right, and their sister Cai between them. While youngsters of varying ages giggle and bicker in the row in front of them, the Istan-born adults talk in quiet, worried whispers about the storm, ultimately ignoring the chaos around them.

Hope is a Mistake comes alive again, shaking and rocking with more purpose now that before. The rhythm it follows is a steady beat, almost to a drum. Rock. Shake. Rock. Shake. Cracks begin to form, spiderweb thin to begin and criss crossing over the once smooth shell.

Kera follows the candiates onto the sands then steps over to join the V'dim and the other awlms.

Janaya bows with the rest, and takes her place in the circle wearing her new-looking gown. Her eyes flit from Kairoikyriath to Saburath, and she dips her head again before settling her gaze on the eggs. Ulp. "…it's really time."

Zak enters the hatching sands and takes a moment to bow to the dam and sire and after that he takes a spot near, if not next to Quill. The white of the robe brings out the red of his burned arms and legs quite nicely. Scanning the rocking eggs he seeks out the several that are his favorites until he finds the reddish brown egg.

The Treasured Trash Heap Egg tilts ominously. It's gonna — oh dear, it's — thunk! It falls over. Little flecks of shell flake off in a rain of dusty browns around it, quickly swallowed up by the sand around it. The egg squirms a few times, struggling, then stops and is still.

Maorin is here, right along with the other somewhat weary candidates. After the bowing business is dealt with, he meanders to the side, edging around in that semi-circle ring of people. He watches though, with hardly any concern for the shudder and rumble /outside/ of the grounds. It's what's rumbling inside that has his attention.

Quillan steps out onto the sands, bowing with the rest of the candidates before falling into line with Janaya on one side, and Maelle on the other. He reaches out to take Jan's hand, giving her a smile that makes his super-sunburnt cheeks look even redder. Then he looks at Maelle, holding his hand out to her, too, if she wants to take it. "Faranth's fancy bits, those eggs are moving." Is he nervous? Heck yes. Eggs and storms and all that fun stuff to worry about, here! He's close enough to Zak to give him a thumbs-up and a double-click of his tongue, then his attention is on the eggs.

From the Galleries » C'rus enters quickly having heard the dragon sounded warning that the hour was approaching and quickly finds a seat so that he can watch.

Zhianna shifts around scuttling closer to whom ever is closest as the egg watching begins along with the lower lip chewing.

Maelle is barely awake despite having made it through the motions of getting dressed in the candidate robe and making her way to the sands. She gives E'tan a long look before scooting with the rest of the group to stand near Quillan and snatching up that hand like it's a lifeline. Her eyes dart to the eggs that are on the move and really doesn't seem too confident in this whole decision to stand all of the sudden.

From the Galleries » With a grumpy frown, Janja pauses at the entrance to shed both rain and flight jacket. "Wai.." She starts to protest turning back towards the clearing, but whatever has drawn her attention has finish and so she turns back with an even more grumpy expression. A quick glance over those gathered before she heads over to drop sullenly into the seat next to Neyuni. "She left me." She grumps attention only partly on the sands.

Hope is a Mistake moves at a fervent pace now, back and forth, as those cracks widen and begin to splinter the shell apart until at last it breaks away, allowing the dark bronze to shake free with one final push as he struggles to his feet, wings flared out for balance as he gathers himself.

When the Snows Fall Bronze Hatchling
This is not a bronze for idleness - though he moves with careful steps, it is but a ruse. He's bold, he's powerful, and he's here to get things done. While not as large as some of his fellow brethren, he is still formidable, with broad shoulders and strong, chiseled features. His form is stocky, muscular, and well-built, the angular body of a born warrior. Everything about him speaks of a quiet strength, from the antiqued bronze that flows smoothly over the majority of his supple hide to the pale flickers of valyrian steel that turn claws and 'ridges into blades. Aged metal darkens along his wide chest and athletic limbs in a leathery brownish-black, seeming to shift like armor with his every move. A deeper, loamier shade of umber creeps up his toes, spinning like gnarled roots for his wrists, dark inklings of things to come. This isn't the only hint towards a wild, ancient history this bronze possesses. Flecks of darkened bronze and sepia arch over his proud forehead and down his spine before coursing over large, balanced wings. The pattern is oddly reminiscent of a canid's pelt, light and dark in turns without distracting from his overall glory. It acts as a shield, perhaps, or a cloak to surround himself with, for the night is dark and full of terrors, and winter is decidedly coming.

Janaya looks to Quillan, with a nervous smile that she tries to make less nervous by making it wider… which really only makes it look like she's trying to hide it, but oh well. She takes his hand, giving it a bit of a squeeze as she looks back to those eggs. "…of course they are. I mean… oh! It hatched!"

Thank You for Your Childhood Egg twitches again and shivers, only to give such a jolt that it falls onto its side. Then it begins to rock in earnest, cracks appearing along the once nondescript shell.

Borrowed Time, Borrowed World Egg visibly rocks now, keeping a slow but steady rhythm. It takes longer for the cracks to begin appearing on its shell and even more time for them to widen. Will it even hatch?

When the Snows Fall Bronze Hatchling begins to move, once he has seen all that he wishes to see. His steps are sure and unhurried, and he takes his time making progress, faceted eyes taking all of the candidates in with a quiet, patronly sort of twinkle.

Zak spares a glance upwards towards the galleries then back down to the eggs again. Trying not fidget he raises a hand to scratch at his chest but manages to stop just before the first contact. Instead he runs his hand through his sweaty, red, curls and keeps an eye upon the activity on the sands once more.

From the Galleries » Esiae perks up from her low discussion to offer a few waves to folks here and there, but as things get going, she quiets for once in her life, gaze focusing out in the sand. "Oh, there he comes," her sister whispers loudly, pointing towards… well, a mass of candidates. But one of them is Cai's! "They called him Skybroom," Esi laughs, eyes twinkling. "Seems about right, don't it?"

Maorin jerks slightly when an egg finally cracks open. There's a quickening of breath, and he inches over somewhat toward a few other candidates to find Maelle on that side of him. Yep, he's sticking close. "Bigger than I thought they'd be right outta the egg.."

Quillan jumps a little when the first hatchling tumbles from its shell - and look, a bronze! "Oh - oh that's good luck. Really good luck. Shardin' sure we need it, what with everything else…" He squints briefly up at the ceiling, then back to the bronze as he begins to move. "Pretty sure on his feet, too…"

The Treasured Trash Heap Egg is already on its side, but the position is evidently precarious. One moment it's silent and still, and the next, it's rolling. Down and down the little mound of sand, and right into another egg it goes. There's a tremendous cracking sound and it splits, right down the middle.

Janaya watches the stately progress of that bronze. "Woooow…" she murmurs. "He's so… so…" Something. So very something, and as for what, well, she has no words for that, and she just nods to the words of some of the others.

Maelle squeezes Quillan's hand, perhaps almost to the point it might hurt. That bronze, it's coming, and there's nobody that can stop it. At least, with other dragons, there's a partner who can tell it what not to do. Not the case here, and she watches with wide eyes.

Zhianna gaps at the first hatchling. "Theres a nice one." is murmured softly.

When the Snows Fall Bronze Hatchling can be playful, make no doubt! When an egg cracks somewhere to his right, he allows himself a temporary distraction, prancing over to circle it, gaze avid. Are you gonna hatch? Huh? Are you? Alas, when his dipping and ducking yields no action, he turns and resumes his earlier perusing of the candidates, though his tail continues to flick youthfully behind him.

Quillan glares briefly at Maelle. "Hey. You're breaking my bones, Healer." But he doesn't pull his hand away from her, or from Jan, who isn't crushing his fingers. "… so handsome," he finishes the younger girl's stuttered sentence.

Thank You for Your Childhood Egg breaks apart under the constant pressure from the being within. Piece by piece the shell falls away and reveals a small, sleek built blue. Slowly he uncurls himself and places his feet under him. Wings stretch out to dry as his head lifts, tilted ponderously towards the line of Candidates.

Memories of the Past Blue Hatchling
Rich and dark in color, he is on the smaller spectrum for a blue. Lean and sleek in build, his coloring fades to pale blues along the planes of his broad head and narrow muzzle, softening his features. Even his wings fade along the edges of his sails, the same effect echoing along each foot and along his tail. It gives him a wizened, older look despite being so young.

The Memories of the Past Blue Hatchling pauses, but only for a moment, head moving slowly as he surveys the entire hatching arena. A deep sense of wonderment shines in faceted eyes before slowly, equally ponderously, he makes his way through the candidates. It is slow, giving them time to part around him before, finally, he presses his nose to the belly of a short, blonde girl from High Reaches. "Doanteth…," she breathes before letting loose a bright giggle. "Of course it's colorful out here, silly! Now c'mon, let's go get you something to eat! You're starving."

Tears In Rain Egg picks up momentum as it rolls again, cracks along its surface appear and quickly become more pronounced.

From the Galleries » Neyuni spares a glance at the familiar voice, although it's been awhile now since she's laid eyes on the other. A finger flicks an errant droplet away as she offers a false tender "Really now, that's to bad. Doesn't agree with the weather?" to Janja. It's just that perfect timing to miss the arrival of the first. The rumble of the crowd draws her gaze back and she lets a soft snort. "A bronze, rather dark that one."

With a triumphant cry the Memories of the Past Blue Hatchling has found its lifemate at last. After a few moments the Weyrlingmaster leads the new pair off the sands.

Young Parache of the hinterlands outside of Faranth-knows-where — better known for his vocal transitioning from a squeak down into a freakishly deep voice for a scrawny 'brat — looks like he might crawl out of his skin. "Can YOU see them? How many?" He hops a little, even, trying to see over some skybroom-tall candidate who is obnoxiously in his way.

Maorin holds his breath when that blue moves through..and even finds himself one of the candidates. He watches just a bit avidly, glancing back aside to the others. "Just like that.." It's quite a sight to see for the first time. A hand comes up, rubbing at the back of his neck just a little before his eyes dart back to the action at hand, to wobbling eggs and roaming dragonets.

The Treasured Trash Heap Egg startles. There's no other word for it: a neighboring egg rolls closer, and the egg jumps right up out of the sand. The sundered halves fly apart to parts unknown, and then the dragonet is lying in the sand, confused as can be. The Borne on Starlight Brown blinks, and then growls at the egg that apparently startled it, almost falling sideways in his haste to glare.

Borne on Starlight Brown
Power defines this brown's physique, in musculature and movement. He's bulky for his moderate size, with strong shoulders and stride. His limbs on the whole are shorter than average, although not obviously so, with a carriage as proud as his. Chiseled head high, broad wings aloft, he stomps more than swaggers, and has enough bulk to move things out of his way. The chiseling of his head carries down: craggy 'ridges, defined muscles, and a mountain's coloring. Subtly variegated browns make up the bulk of his hide, unpolished and rough. Darker sepia and paler buff make up a fair amount of it, the darker shade making up larger stretches while the paler speckles and stripes unevenly. Only his 'sails vary from this striated coloring, a storm of near-black char and silvered browns. Speckles of palest gold freckle the storm, starlight captured. Not at first obvious, hidden save for odd hours or maybe strange lighting or movement, speckles sketch down from his brow and neck, bright enough that it seems odd to miss them.

Janaya nods to Quillan's finishing of her sentence, though she doesn't take her eyes off the eggs. The blue - hatched and finding his lifemate - makes her grin briefly before she frowns. "They've got meat in here, right? Even with the storm?" As if any of her fellow candidates would actually know!

"Sorry. At least I can set them if I do?" Maelle offers, though she does loosen her grip on the hand so it's not painful anymore. The blue's quick hatching and impression went by like a whirlwind, and she only catches the tail end of it. "Who was that?" She wonders, though her eyes again turn to the bronze to make sure it's not getting close.

The Borne on Starlight Brown stands, covered in sand and completely dignified. Absolutely. His eyes flash red and orange, and then a drift of sand falls into the poor guy's eyes and he shakes his head. The dragonet's ire is very definitely obvious, especially when a nearby candidate laughs. With remarkable focus, the dragonet turns, glaring wide-eyed. What'd you say?

A shudder skims across the surface of A Handful of Berries Egg, shifting it ever so slightly in the sands which so carefully cradle it. Once, twice. Almost as though the occupant is assessing the situation.

Zak tries to stay completely alert and aware of his surroundings that are slowly more and more being filled up with dragons. His wide eyes speaking volumes, if his mouth remains shut. His attention is drawn mometarily to the impression that happened nearby, but this can only hold his attention for a moment as other dragons are emerging and begining to wander the sands looking for vict…lifemates.

Quillan blinks. "That was fast. What's that kid's name?" The girl with the blue, who he squints over at. "Faranth knows, Jan." He smiles appreciatively at Maelle, even if he doesn't actually look at her to do so. "Hey, that's a nice brown, too."

When the Snows Fall Bronze Hatchling has enjoyed the temporary diversions the sand has to offer, but alas, it's time to be on with it. His pace picks up, no longer a quiet meandering but instead a lively trot that leads him right where he wants to go. Slowing to a stop, the bronze takes time to assert himself, eyes lifting and head tilting as he peers expectantly up at a certain red-haired Igenite.

With a triumphant cry it seems that the When the Snows Fall Bronze Hatchling has found its partner at last and impression is made!

Zhianna shifts this way and that trying oh so hard to look at all thats going on.

Ignorance is Strength gives the subtlest of shifts. It will move when it wants to. For now, it watches and waits, biding its time.

Borrowed Time, Borrowed World Egg rocks for sometime. Longer than some of the other eggs. Eventually enough of the shell breaks away and a thin, gaunt looking brown struggles his way free and hauls himself to his feet, looking winded from his efforts but eyeing the line of Candidates while he regroups and recovers.

Borrowed Eyes to Sorrow It Brown Hatchling
On the extreme spectrum of lean, this brown appears close to sickly but it is only a trick to the eye. It's true, he's thin and his pale dusty coloring doesn't aid in helping with the gaunt look to his features. Long of limb, wing and tail, he is larger for a brown and his movements are slow, shuffling and wary.

The Borrowed Eyes to Sorrow It Brown Hatchling recovers eventually, though his small chest heaves with the efforts it takes him to slowly, cautiously slip and dart towards the candidates. It's wild movements, eyes constantly elsewhere, like a wild feline creeping towards food, expecting a trap. Eventually, he all but climbs into the arms of a strong-looking boy from Telgar, whose harsh features soften as he reaches down to comfort the brown. "Don't worry, Savarseth. I've got you," Cormac - now C'am - mutters gruffly before leading the skinny creature off.

With a triumphant cry the Borrowed Eyes to Sorrow It Brown Hatchling has found its lifemate at last. After a few moments the Weyrlingmaster leads the new pair off the sands.

Ainemn fidgets, totally oblivious to poor Parache, fingers tugging idly down on robes that are too short for someone of his stature. They cover him, but man, only just. That's what happens when you're the new kid, though, one supposes. You get the short straw— er, robe. "Oh. Sorry. Here." Stepping back, he lets Parache move in, he himself gulping. "Lots," about the number of dragons. Too many.

Zak eyes un-focus as the dragonette is right there before him. Unseeing anything around him his hand reaches out to touch the muzzle of the hatchling with his mind being whisked away from the sands around him. For him it feels like an eternity before he returns though in reality it is mere moments before he utters the name of his new partner in crime, "Kivshiralth…yes. I will come…food.."

Janaya says to Quillan, "She's… uh…" but it seems the blue-impressing candidate's name has fled her head entirely. Maybe she'd have better luck recalling it if not for, "Zak!" No, that's not the bluerider. But her fellow candidate does have a dragon staring at him, and Janaya beams to see it.

Maorin shakes his head just a bit, wincing when an egg topples a brown out onto the sand. "Someone woke up out of the wrong side of the egg.." There's a quick dart of his gaze, following the movement of closer dragonets, when that bronze makes his way forward and..Impresses? "Good job, man.." It's quiet, likely even unheard, really. But it seems that Impressions are beginning to happen left and right! It's hard to keep up with it all.

A Handful of Berries Egg moves again with a violent jolt that sends it rolling into the egg next to it. It rolls free of its sandy cradle, moving a few feet before it halts. Cracks begin to splinter across the shell, radiating from that strange blue-black mark upon the side. Freedom is so close.

Tears In Rain Egg rocks from side to side this time, trying a new tactic. Then a claw rips through, throwing the shell in all directions, and actually smacking a candidate on the nose.

Tormented Nexus Six Blue Hatchling
Angular and tall are what immediately come to mind when looking at this young dragonet. While most of his hide bears a very light shade of blue, his headknobs and neckridges are a darker, more somber shade. His wings, nearly too big for his lithe body, are covered with sparkles of white. The lashing tail, that completes the tableau, seems to emerge from the mist of his back, bright and shiny. Just like a C-beam glittering in the dark near the Tannahauser gate.

Tormented Nexus Six Blue Hatchling shakes off the remnants of shell and membrane, giving his head an irritated little toss. Honestly! The things you have to do to get hatched around here! Creeling with hunger-red eyes, he cants his head about to get his bearings. After two more steps he finally finds the one : A tall short blond haired guy with green eyes.

With a triumphant cry the Tormented Nexus Six Blue Hatchling has found its lifemate at last. After a few moments the Weyrlingmaster leads the new pair off the sands.

Ignorance is Strength moves with purpose now, rocking back and forth in the sand. Cracks appear, steadily widening under the pressure from within.

Zhianna has this continuous clapping thing going on as impressions begin happening all around her. "Congrats" is called out over and over again.

Maelle looks here and there, as it seems to be happening all too fast. She pulls her hand away from Quill's to wipe it on her robe since it's getting really sweaty really fast. "Hey! Zak! Congrats." She offers even if he's pretty distracted at the moment with his new lifemate.

The Borne on Starlight Brown skirts the other dragons and avoids the candidates, awkward and cranky in the shadows. He even manages not to dismember any of those white-robed things, although his baleful stare seems to suggest he might like to. Discovering the way to not making a total fool of himself is important, though. One foot, another. Wings up. Eyes up, hazards be damned. He's *got* this. There's something out there, something waiting for him, he just has to find it.

From the Galleries » C'rus watches the events on the sands with great interest, "A bronze out of the box is something else…" he says to no one in particular since he doesn't really know many in the stands, with the exception of Nat and any others that might be hiding.

Raise Your Hands to the Sky Gods Egg shudders on the sands, stilling as abruptly as it started. Was that a real quake, or merely a desert mirage?

Quillan can't seem to keep his gaze on any one place for more than, oh, 30 seconds or so. "So much happening," he mutters, giving both Maelle and Jan's hands a squeeze. "Zak? Zak got a bronze? Faranth's fancy bits, way to go Z! Doing it for Igen!"

Janaya grins to Zak - okay, more like for Zak, he's pretty distracted - and turns her attention back to the eggs and… "There's more now!" Apparently she was distracted too. Who knew?

From the Galleries » Neyuni doesn't try to focus on everything in the chaos of the typical hatching. Moreso she looks to a certain individual, a local favorite if you would. Clearly cheering Zak n, it's a bit of a gasp as the first hatched bronze halts before the lad. She's much to far to hear the name directly, but impression is clear. "Alright! Way to go Zak!" would you look at that." she nudges towards the former igenite next to her. "Think he'll miss the weather?"

Parache isn't real bothered by the looks of those around him. What's happening? Is it interesting? He wouldn't know! "C'/mon/!" The kid whines, finally managing to squirm out from behind Ainemn, whose sheepishness gets a huff and smile. He dives *right* back behind the other candidate and those around him. "Shardin' — do you see those things? Woah!" His cool, he does not have, and his giant baritone does startle the girl nearest him. Parache doesn't notice.

There's a resounding crack as the ferocious assault of the occupant of A Handful of Berries Egg finally wins the battle, breaking free from the confines of the shell. A too-bright green spills from the shattered shell, tumbling headlong onto the sands in a roll that somehow flips her right onto her feet and leaves her staring down the candidates defiantly.

Symbol of the Rebellion Green Hatchling
It's as though someone took the saturation on this dragon and turned it up to eleven. Lime green spreads itself across her hide, encasing her slender form in a shade that's impossible to miss. She's lithe and lean, this one, with a musculature built for speed. She's slightly larger than some other greens but carries herself with the silent grace of a hunter, betraying the power that lurks beneath that brilliant hide. Although at first glance, that blinding color overwhelms the more subtle shades, upon closer inspection it's easy to see the mint green which dapples her tail like patchwork along the length. It also highlights the contours of the wingsails, making them appear more pronounced, while striations of softer pastel appear on the 'sails themselves, stretched like the string of a bow. Lime dominates across the slender width of her back and up the elegant neck to her head, where headknobs are touched with chartreuse, which echoes in a line down her snout. Her chest is the only place where lime darkens to a light fern green, finally easier on the eyes. She bears a strange marking of dulled bronze at the base of her neck, almost as though she were wearing some sort of badge on her right side.

The Symbol of the Rebellion Green Hatchling takes one tentative step, then another, and then promptly tangles front and back feet and goes tumbling. She growls her frustration, turning her head to stare hard at her feet. Left. Then right. All together, now. With more certainty, she heaves herself to her feet again and fixes her whirling gaze on the candidates, as though daring any of them to point out her mistake. One skinny boy from Monaco titters, and she shoots toward him like an arrow from a bow (whose legs are working now?) before skidding to a halt a few feet away as he cowers. Theres what might be an amused huff, and then shes off down the line.

Janaya is blinded! Okay, not really, but she does stare at the newest little green hatching, blinking a few times as if to clear her eyes. "Whoa…" she says. "She's… uh… vivid." Or is that eye-searing?

Maorin might be breathing a bit quickly, but he's managing to keep both feet firmly planted in the sand. As hot as it might be, the teen is at least not being..too terribly shifty. The loudness nearby earns a quick look however, blinking in the direction of Parache and Ainemn. His head shakes just a bit, offering a faint smile before quickly looking again, eyes darting back and forth between moving hatchlings. He sucks in a breath when that green charges..and only mildly relaxes again once she changes course again.

Quillan … looks away from the new-hatched green. "She's sure bright. We'll be able to light the Weyr with her when she's proddy." He smirks at Jan, gently elbowing her. He made a joke. He's funny, right? "Bet she's yours."

Deception in Pretty Packaging Egg twitches, or maybe that's just another illusion in your mind, conjured up by this egg's strange mind. Regardless, it stills before one can truly be sure.

Raise Your Hands to the Sky Gods Egg cracks, suddenly, with a bit of shell flying outwards as though the egg were blasted from the inside. Despite the gaping hole where a sea creature's skeleton once was, the hatchling within is either hiding against the far side of the shell, or it's just that dark, for there's nothing to be seen but blackness.

Janaya snickers to Quillan. "Yeah, we… wait, what?" She looks to him, then back to that green, and it's like this is the moment where it actually clicks that, oh right, she's here because dragons are going to impress! "Well… uh… maybe she's yours!" Yeah. Great retort. A+ for sure.

Quillan snorts at Janaya. "You're so mature." Then he rolls his eyes, and looks away at the eggs and hatchlings to see what's new. "I didn't like that one," he points towards one of the twitching eggs, using the hand linked with Jan's to do so. "It made me feel weird." And then his eyes are glued to that green, because she's just too bright to miss!

Zhianna whistles in appreciation at the green as she hatches . "Now thats a bright little lady ." Eyes dart all over the sand, having her turning so she got her back toward some of the action.

The Symbol of the Rebellion Green Hatchling seems to have realized belatedly that she's the object of at least some attention, in spite of the other hatchlings around her. No matter what bravery she displayed moments before, she now attempts to be as inconspicuous as possible. She does nothing unusual as she wanders down the line from a short distance away, carefully inspecting candidates for her chosen. Then, it seems even movement becomes too eye-catching, and the bright green settles herself down upon the sands, searching from her chosen spot. She doesn't want fanfare, or attention. She just wants what's hers.

Ignorance is Strength yields to the barrage from within and shatters cleanly apart. From the ruins of its shell, a dark burnished bronze takes his first awkward steps before hoping neatly over the shards and immediately striking a dashing pose. Good day, Xanadu! He has arrived, at last!

Celebrity is as Celebrity Does Bronze Hatchling
Lean of frame from nose to tail, this bronze is splendidly well-proportioned for a dragon of his size, bearing just enough muscle so as not to appear gaunt, but not so much as to seem stocky, either. Dark, burnished bronze flows over his svelte hide, the color fading to duskier shades along proud shoulders and lithe, toned limbs. He is not a bronze that flashes and glitters - instead, he possesses a dignified shimmer that is somehow attractive and alluring at once. A pale, matte shade of bronze fades along the arch of his neck and chest, becoming almost silvered along his throat and again just around his wrists and ankles, a subtle change in hue that complements rather than distracts from his overall perfected look. Touches of flax and brass sweep and curl along his forehead and head knobs, lending a boyish, charming air to his otherwise handsome features. He carries himself with pride and confidence and even his wings, just a stitch too long, seem to suit rather than encumber him, held smartly and comfortably against his sides.

Celebrity is as Celebrity Does Bronze Hatchling doesn't just walk away from his egg, no - he //sashays. Pearly white teeth flash, but not in menace, mouth opening wide in what can only be described as a charming grin as he heads for… the girls? What? Did you really expect him to bypass a literal lineup of girls? Pff. Heyyy, ladies~.//

Janaya attempts to follow Quillan's pointing - or maybe her own pointing, since that's the hand he's using. Hmm. In the chaos, she's not sure, but… "Some of them were like that," she agrees nevertheless. "Like… oh, it hatched!"

The Eyes Of The Oracle Egg seems to rest in its wallow sand for a moment, before beginning to shiver and shake. The distinct sound of muffled tapping in a ratatatat can be heard and is quickly getting louder.

Raise Your Hands to the Sky Gods Egg finally falls to one side and fractures completely, the damp shell sloughing off a wee but no less terrifying individual.

Sun's Out, Gun's Out Green Hatchling
One might wonder how so much spirit got shoved into so small a form. She is tiny, this green, but she is strong, wiry muscles rippling with every agitated movement. She is as dark of a green as can be managed without becoming black, with random-seeming stripes and geometric patterns coursing up her forepaws, over her shoulders, and twining to the tips of her tail. Narrow eye sockets and high cheekbones give her an almost savage appearance, emphasizing that though she be but little, she is fierce.

Maelle snickers a little as the nearly flourescent green is talked about, looking at it and squinting some. "Yeah, I don't know if she could get much brighter." She is no expert though, so only time will tell. Returning her hand to hold Quill's, she eyes the rather angry looking brown again, before looking at the green who isn't looking quite so menacing.

The Borne on Starlight Brown is growing annoyed. Okay, he's growing *more* annoyed, tail lashing as he paces down the line of white-robed candidates. A boy steps in front of him, confident, but brown just kind of mows him over; he's big enough that it doesn't take a lot. It's not a terribly gory mauling, but two more candidates seem to think it's a good idea to rush to the kid's side — and the dragonet goes through them too, leaving a trail in his wake. He's got it now. He's on a mission, and they're not going to stop him. She's been hiding back here, the scamp, and the brown stomps right up to his brown-haired girl and stretches up to stare at her. /There/ you are.

With a triumphant cry it seems that the Borne on Starlight Brown has found its partner at last and impression is made!

Sun's Out, Gun's Out Green Hatchling scrambles from the remains of her shell and stands among the ruins of her former home. Her half flaired wings flutter awkwardly before resting loosely along her back. There's something she needs to find, near two lumps. Off she goes, in search of something important! Her progress is halted suddenly by a clutchsibling that barges right into her path. Head lowers and hissed warnings are given. That's followed up by a vicous swipe of untested talons towards the annoying blockade in her path. A few more taps are passed back and forth before her clutch siblings hisses again and backs away. The green eyes him a amoment before starting forward again, head swiveling this way and that, searching. Then everything becomes clear. Through the storm a pale figure calls to her. Then she sees another clutch sibling looking too closely at what is hers. With an angry screech, the green surges forward, knocking her blue clutchbrother to the sands. She snaps angrily at his paws and legs when he flails trying to defend himself. A small bit of ichor colors her muzzle as her head swings around to focus on the white robe figure and latches on. «Elina! I'm hungry!» "OH Becath!. Yes, let's go feed you now."

David 14's Irremediable Crash Egg shifts ever so slightly, then stills, as if not wanting anyone to notice it what it may be doing. Nothing to see here folks. That's right, keep moving! When time passes and attention has moved on, the egg wobbles as the hatchling within struggles for freedom. It's safe inside this little pod, but even so, it must escape or die trying. Another sudden but brief struggle and the egg rocks, rolling onto its side. Stillness once more as the hatchling within gathers strength to break free.

Maorin just has to stare. Really, there's no way around it. A bronze hatches..and heads for the girls? "What's he think he's doing?" He shifts over just slightly for that question, peering at Quillan with a slight laugh. He leans back again into line though, giving room to hatchlings that are making their way along the line. Hissing jerks his attention around to that fiesty green though, nearly gawking until she finds herself a lifemate. "..Oh good.."

Did Big Bada-Boom Egg just move? Shifting grains of sand would suggest so, but the movement was so slight as to be almost unnoticeable. Perhaps it's waiting, biding its time. Perhaps it knows something else is coming. Something big. Something dark.

David 14's Irremediable Crash Egg seems to wait til all eyes are focused elsewhere before shimmying back and forth. The efforts causes a vein of a crack to begin and start branching across the shell at random intervals. One spot bulges outward, as if something is trying to punch through the thin wall. A moment of rest and a flurry of back and forth motions make the small crack expand, streaking to the top of the egg with an audible /crack/ that echos across the sands. Ooops! Be still! Someone might have heard that!

Parache just barely manages to avoid being stomped on — he ducks away from the thick group of candidates, hands flapping above messy brown hair. "I want to go home." It wobbles and scrackles in the middle, poor kid, but he's not running for the hills yet. There's nothing to say he won't, though, if those dragonets get any closer.

Janaya turns her head to see a dragon coming near-ish, then blinks as her eyes are drawn to something past that. "Hey, wait, are those… are they okay?" Now it's her turn to point, with her un-held hand, to those candidates knocked down by the Borne on Starlight brown. Janaya's brow furrows, concerned.

Deception in Pretty Packaging Egg definitely splits this time, a great ugly tear that completely shreds the bit of shell showing fire and coal. The rest of the markings remain mysteriously untouched. It's made it's choice.

With a triumphant cry the Sun's Out, Gun's Out Green Hatchling has found its lifemate at last. After a few moments the Weyrlingmaster leads the new pair off the sands.

Zhianna cant stop moving now, theres so much to see. Sun burn is forgotten but hot feet arent as she picks them upntime and time again to shake the hot sand off them.

Maelle looked away before the mauling, and only returns her attention when there's a few panicked sounds coming from the brown's direction. That brown that's heading for her, with blood on his claws. She tugs her hand away from Quillan and reaches to touch the brown's nose, "Ytildith?" She looks more than a little confused, but it doesn't last long as she follows along after him.

Quillan catches the bronze hatching, and then there's a green, and… "Why is the bright one just sitting there?" Can Jan answer him? Can Maelle? He looks over at the Healer, but then there's Parache moaning, and… "Whooooa. Did you see that?!" But then there's stuff happening next to him! And a brown that's just… "Oh, hey. Mae? Shards. Well done! Knew you'd be a brownrider!"

The Symbol of the Rebellion Green Hatchling's whirling gaze finally settles on the one who's meant for her. She missed her, the first time. Perhaps she thought she was looking for something else, but now she knows what she really needs. With measured steps, the green makes her way over to the girl with honeyed hair and green eyes. There's something tentative in the way her faceted eyes meet those of her chosen, even though the green does not lack for certainty. This is her hope; her dandelion in the spring.

With a triumphant cry it seems that the Symbol of the Rebellion Green Hatchling has found its partner at last and impression is made!

From the Galleries » Zan'ri is here. He's up in the eaves like some kind of creepy shadow, shoulders hunched up in a well-pressed jacket. There are plenty of people, even up here, and it's pretty obvious that it's not the guy's favorite place to be. He doesn't move from his near-aisle spot, though, just squints down at the sands and smiles a little. It doesn't really help the creepy effect.

Is it Cold in Here, Or is It Just Me? Egg shivers and dislodges a little of the sand that was keeping it toasty warm. As the sand falls away and exposes more of the shell, the more it seems to twitch.

Janaya shakes her head a little to Quillan's question, but she's still staring at those fallen candidates. "…huh?" she says as she hears those words of congratulation to Mae, looking closer. "Oh!" She looks at Maelle, and that dragon who… just knocked over the others… and swallows. "Congrats," she echoes, and steps a bit closer to Quillan as she looks back to the hatching eggs.

Celebrity is as Celebrity Does Bronze Hatchling schmoozes up to one girl in particular, eyes nictitating in what might be intended to be a wink, but really, someone ought to tell him it just looks odd. Oh well. Let him have his limelight for now. Tell him he's beautiful. Tell him he's wonderful. Now watch him walk away, swagger in his steps. Hate to watch him go, but love to watch him leave, right?

David 14's Irremediable Crash Egg can't wait much longer, there's a mission that needs finishing and only a little more time to accomplish a goal it. So in one last flurry of motion, the egg twitches and jerks this way and that. Cracks web across, expanding til a goo covered snout peeks then recedes. It won't be long now. A few seconds of…nothing, as if something is taking a running charge. Then a sudden explosion of shell bits, goo-flinging shards fly everywhere and a young hatchling spills into the sands.

Seeking the Snake and Powerful Plissken Green Hatchling
A vibrant prism seems to dance just beneath this verdant lady's hide, subtly complimenting her malachite hues. Mother of pearl gleams from the tips of her headknobs and liberally dusted along pronounced cheekbones and, giving the green a permanent blush. An opalesque streak, like a glittery ribbon, starts between her faceted gaze and rolls haphazardly along the middle of her snout til it curls off to the left, vanishing into a dimple by the muzzle. A lithe neck and tail balance her athletic but shapely body perfectly. Darker malachite drapes along her back and limbs, then lightens to a pale hue under throat and soft underbelly. Wings are longer but thinner than most greens her compact size, and protrude well past her flanks when they rest along her back. The outer sails appear to have been sprinkled with sapphire dribbles, as does her chest and belly. Obsidian talons curl threateningly from paws that seem crusted with sapphire dust, as does both sides of her spaded tail.

Zhianna is purely dumbfounded as she stares downward, from awestruckness to joy the girls face goes. "Mairesaeth?….Yes this is us…" turning she looks around then moves a few steps then stops "Mairesaeth food is over here and you will never lack i swear it."

Quillan has obviously let go of Maelle by now, which leaves him a free hand, and with people being mauled, it's safe to have a buffer on each side. "Fi- Rin! Get over here!" See? He even used the right name. "Faranth's butt, the bronze is picking the girls." He prods Jan when another green hatches. "Now she's more sedate in her colouring."

The Eyes Of The Oracle Egg falls over. While the colors remain bright, the white loses it's blinding quality. Then shadows grow across the shell, as cracks discolor the egg. Time is drawing near.

Sudden but Inevitable Betrayal Egg shudders gently, like a plane suffering a bit of turbulence, but silences again just as quickly.

Deception in Pretty Packaging Egg splits further along that tear before, finally, the egg falls apart on either side of a plain green hatchling. There's strength in her though, an inner fire to be cultivated, if only given the chance.

Ordinary Acts of Bravery Green Hatchling
This green is the kind of beauty that is made, rather than gifted at birth. Her hide is a smooth, slick jade all over, broken only by small freckles and flecks of a slightly darker green that dance along her nose, chest, and small wings. She carries herself with immense pride, however, for ordinary she may be, but what's interesting about her is on the inside.

The Ordinary Acts of Bravery Green Hatchling is ultimately unerring. It matters not what's going on around her - she has seen hers, and she knows where to go. Strong, sure steps lead her to the feet of a young candidate, whose eyes go wide and glassy with a gasp. Eventually Woody - aka Joresson, he has a name, you know! - blinks himself out of it, head shaking from side to side. "No way, Nadaunth. I'm not afraid anymore," Je'son declares, grin bright as though this moment is too good to be true as he lingers on the sands, ogling the green with open wonder.

With a triumphant cry the Ordinary Acts of Bravery Green Hatchling has found its lifemate at last. After a few moments the Weyrlingmaster leads the new pair off the sands.

Janaya sees Zhianna found - how could she not, with that bright green? - and her grin appears, then flickers as she notes that bit of… is that ichor? Eep. Quillan nudges her, and she looks up to where he points. "Oh… yeah. She's pretty!" …if just as possibly deadly.

Maorin has no problem inching his way over, eyes just a bit wide as Maelle is claimed and he takes her place next to Quillan. "They..gonna be okay you think?" For all the talk, maybe he didn't think much of stories about blood on the sands. Either way the rather collected candidate seems somewhat shaken by the whole thing, turning his gaze back toward the eggs and hatchlings roaming. A bit more warily, in fact.

Parache is more than a little overwhelmed, looks like. There are dragons Impressing all around, and while not being in the middle of other candidates might seem good…it also means he's kind of antsy. "What's he doing?" The kid laughs, and then abruptly dives back behind a bigger candidate. He's not stupid. Really.

Celebrity is as Celebrity Does Bronze Hatchling finally redirects his course, strutting boldly up to the boys as though sizing them up. Too tall. Too skinny. Good heavens, it's called a toothbrush, dear boy - use it, or you'll never be able match up to his dazzling smile! In fact, there's only one of you good enough for the likes of //him, or so his proud circling of one dark-haired young man from Igen seems to imply. Yes, yes. Don't they just make a dashing pair? Headliners, surely. However will the rest of the weyr get on, with eye candy like him — err, them? Hmm?//

With a triumphant cry it seems that the Celebrity is as Celebrity Does Bronze Hatchling has found its partner at last and impression is made!

Is it Cold in Here, Or is It Just Me? Egg begins to shake almost vilently, as if cold tremors have complete control over the hatchling within. Every so often the shutters, starting small little cracks to stretch ever onward.

Quillan blinks. "Was that Woody? Nadaunth? And Woody? Never thought he'd get green." Always a surprise to be had! He shakes his head at Maorin, and shrugs his shoulders. "Dunno, man. Was it really bad? I was too busy watching to be able to dodge… Oh." Kinda hard to dodge the one right in front of you, isn't it? Quillan wobbles a little, as if he might faint, then drops to his knees with a grunt of pain. "You're… what now? Qhynn… what? Faranth's frickin' fancy bits…"

Seeking the Snake and Powerful Plissken Green stetches lazily, wings fluttering trying to shake off rain or egg goo. After she loosens up, the green bounds a few paces then snout dips into the sand. Pushing up, she shakes it off vigorously, scraping as best she can at the wet sand before peering through the raging storm at the chaos and takes off in search of..something.

Sudden but Inevitable Betrayal Egg splits suddenly along a seam in its hull, something dark and gritty pressing into the space left by a tear in the egg's shell. As fast as it's there, the stripe of hide is gone again, replaced by a rather eerie darkness.

Janaya glances over to Maorin, and nods in a not-very-good attempt at reassuring. "There's gotta be healers watching… right?" Still, she's going to stick right here with Quillan and Maorin and… a bronze dragon? "Oh." Janaya looks to Quill, biting her lip… then to his dragon, and she can't help but giggle at some combination of his posture and Quill's words, letting go of his hand. He's on his own now! Him and Q……something!

Maorin has only just moved to stand next to Quillan, and now he's being carted off! That's a rather dumbfounded look on Rin's face. "Well..maybe Weyrleader after all.." He shifts aside a little to give Quillan and the bronze room, laughing lowly. "Congrats.." Damp hands ruffle through his hair briefly, before quickly glancing at Janaya in bewilderment.

Zhianna slowly feeds chunk after chunk of meat to the green before her, eyes unable to look away.

The Eyes Of The Oracle Egg starts to shatter now. The pieces flake away slowly, almost invisible to the naked eye until the color of the dragon inside shows through. At last, the shards collapse and the dragon emerges.

Zion's Battering Drums Green Hatchling
Deep, rich forest-green lines the neckridges of this dragonet, flowing from there down to her dainty tail tip. The hue is echoed along her wing spars and sails. The sails themselves however are faded in their shading, dark even by contrast to the rest of her body. A sturdy frame is covered in mossy shades that range from peridot accents to deeper casts of emerald along her underside, with a grassy green tone being predominate over all. She seems a study in contrast— raw strength and power, yet still, feminine, all in one.

Q'll gets to his feet, not even bothering to dust off his knees. "He's Qhynn…veslacth. Qhynnveslacth," he tells Maorin and Janaya, before he walks - limps? - off to the side with his new lifemate.

Janaya laughs a little as she nods to Maorin, a nervous edge to her voice. "Maybe someday." She gives Quill and his new lifemate another look, then edges closer to Maorin, just so she's not standing out here alone.

Seeking the Snake and Powerful Plissken Green dodges a couple of flailing siblings and snuffles at a candidate crawling through the sand. Nope. Don't like ripper leftovers. Trying to move along, the green tumbles again over said candidate and whacks the unfortunate girl with her wings a few times before she can drag herself up and away.

Things fall apart, or so they say. The center cannot hold. Only for Xanadu, the widening gyre isn't a falcon or war - it's the ceiling, so hastily repaired, and it's sudden. Stone and metal groan, sounding like the great bellow of some ancient behemoth, and then - ANARCHY. Stone and rain and weather hail down from overhead in a great rush, giving noone time to react. It is lucky that the hatching is near its end, for the empty remains of several eggs are crushed under an enormous slab of stone.
Some candidates are not so lucky. Caught between a rock and a hard place - or in this case, a rock and a terrified dragonet - one candidate goes down in a flurry of claws, and another is trampled into the sand, leg twisted at an odd angle visible from even the stands. Three more are pummeled by falling stone - two buried completely but by shards and hefty fragments, a third (a candidate nicknamed "Skybroom") knocked about the head and lying alarmingly still in a spreading pool of red.
Green ichor joins it, but blessfully, only just - whatever sought to steal the life of three humans more or less avoided the dragonets, with the exception of a deep gash that sends the Zion's Battering Drums Green Hatchling into a fierce panic. Angry, frightened, she spirals out of control towards the candidates. Meanwhile, one wing broken in several places, Je'son's Nadaunth screeches agony into the minds of anyone nearby as lesser stones drop slowly in the wake of the brunt of the wreckage.

In this fury, in this midst, it's hard to see if someone still exists and the Zion's Battering Drums Green Hatchling has no time to check! Ichor leaking from one shoulder, she storms down the sands desperately seeking for salvation, her creels and chittering of complaint becoming louder and louder as the pain grows. Luckily the bones aren't dislocated and she races with wings widely spread only to find comfort in the arms of a young devastated girl. "Niobeth! I'm here now….with you…Always…" She sobs.

With a triumphant cry the Zion's Battering Drums Green Hatchling has found its lifemate at last. After a few moments the Weyrlingmaster leads the new pair off the sands.

Kairoikyriath lets out a shrill cry as the sky comes falling down upon them, shaking the arena and disturbing the last of her eggs. The gold only narrowly misses being crushed by the impact, but that pale hide doesn't escape without a few green stains trickling from wounds that will have to be tended to later. And her rider? The queen rears, eyes wild with panic, and for a moment it seems that she might cause even more damage to candidates and dragonets alike. But Innes appears, bruised and battered — likely knocked over by the impact of the roof caving in — but whole. Her voice is largely drowned out by screams and the rushing chatter of healers coming to care for the wounded, but the end result is clear: Kairoikyriath ceases her mournful cries, settling down a safe distance from the debris until she can be properly tended to. Although the Weyrwoman darts worried glances toward the injured, it's clear that she can't safely leave the gold's side until the last of the hatchlings are safely paired and off the sands.

Chaos invited itself to the fest and with loss and crash! After the first startling seconds, Saburath reacts violently, rearing to his hind paws and bugling as loud as he can, all of his frustration and fears expressed in a single time. It took //all/ of Tani's mental and physical strength to restrain his bronze from rushing over. "Not now Sab….No!!" The white knuckles of his hands grabbing the bronze's straps betray the tearing inside the Weyrleader's heart. Every atoms of E'tan's body urge him to go as well but his reason is stronger. No need to add more wounds. Not when pairing still has to be done…

Janaya hears something crack, more powerful than any eggshell. "Wha…" she manages to begin, then shrieks as she sees the roof collapsing - or maybe just feels the rush of wind and rain, the storm coming and flinging rocks at her… small ones, she's lucky as she stumbles back and scrubs her eyes from the dust. "Who's- what's-"

If it didn't move much before, Big Bada-Boom Egg is certainly moving now. Displaced by the tremors of the roof collapsing, it rolls away from the candidates and destruction, rocking furiously. If it weren't for the chaos, one might almost be able to hear the occupant pounding its way free from the shell, slowly cracking the exterior.

Maorin gives a sudden jerk along with the noise and crash of the hatching ground..falling apart. There's not much time to react to it, hardly any time at all. He skitters and dives aside from some of the devastation, scooting back just a little further once he hits the sand. There's little to say even, no curses come from the teen as he stares in rather agast horror at the chaos. At least he can manage to get his feet again, one hand reaching for the nearby Janaya. "You hurt?!"

Sudden but Inevitable Betrayal Egg… well, it explodes. Forcefully. And from within its shell flies a lean whip of a bronze, his dark hide scattered with sand and debris long before he actually leaves the tattered remains of his shell. The creature blinks, and then straightens, if a bit sheepishly. Nothing to see here. Everything's shiny, captain!

I Aim to Misbehave Bronze Hatchling
This bronze is exactly the sort of dragon the word 'rugged' was made for. Formidable without being overly muscular, he is a creature with presence to spare, despite being of average size. This is achieved in how he carries himself, more than anything else, all lean swagger and keen arrogance, head held high and wings half-cocked as though always prepared to delve headlong into adventure. His coloration doesn't help one bit - far from perfect, he is a rough, gritty bronze at base, hide flecked and speckled with a subtle russet shimmer. The same blackened, smoky hue that tinted his egg's shell sweeps along his spine from head to tail, the tone deviating only to darken the sails of both wings. This is perhaps meant to balance out the bright, shiny swatches of gold that flash across strong facial features and his wings' leading edges. White-hot compared to the rest of his rugged form, these markings seem to hint at a dragon whose heart belongs to the sky, despite his body's ties to the ground.

Is it Cold in Here, Or is It Just Me? Egg has had enough and with one final flex of wings and limbs, the eggs parts, most of it falling away from the gooey hide as the self important hatchling steps almost daintily onto the sands.

Evil Mister Rogers Brown Hatchling
From the way this brown hatchling holds his head high, it's obvious that arrogance and disdain ooze from this brown's hide. Beige washes over his head, limbs and wings, while his body darkens to wet bark. Near the middle of his body a band of tan wraps around, looking much like a belt, making it look like he's wearing a dak robe. Dull brown socks give the impression that he's wearing shortboots, so he doesn't have to step in anything unpleasant.

Janaya is bleeding from one rock that hit her forehead at least, a few other places that will surely have bruises later, but she nods to Maorin. "I, I'm fine, I… are you?" She stares at him with wide, shocky eyes. Fine is upright. She's upright, and she reaches her hand for his.

From the Galleries » C'rus sits up in his seat at the sight of what is going on down below. He quickly sweeps his eyes over the sands to determine what is going on…it all happened so fast. He looks to be caught in a position between sitting and standing, what is a healers duty in an odd situation like this?

From the Galleries » Clan Esiae has been more or less watching, with more or less varying reactions. S'gam's the loudest (no surprise), followed by Esiae, but even they fall into an absolutely stunned, ringing silence when the ceiling suddenly caves in. Hearts stop, bodies go tense and still, and then an unmistakably heartbroken noise comes from their general direction, and it's anyone's guess as to whether it came from Cai or Esi, or maybe both. S'gam's near enough that he can grab Cai to keep her from darting down on the sands despite her best efforts to fight him off, but Esi's on the aisle, and sense's flown, she's already sprinting down the stairs.

Evil Mister Rogers Brown Hatchling seems to stare at the sand below him in disgust, as if hating the way it squishes between his. Holding his head high, and ignoring the storm lashing about, he's clearly sneering at all he sees. There's no need to make this job any harder than it needs to be. The sooner it's done, the sooner he can be rid of these…scraps. Wing flair and it doesn't look like an accident when he knocks a smaller sibling to the sand. He'll turn to admire his work briefly then stumble with his next step. talons flash and rip at whatever is tangling his legs up. When he finally shakes off what white robes figure, it lays still in the sand isn't completely white any longer. There are growing areas of red on the prone candidate. It's of no concern to the arrogant hatchling though, the brown tromps forward, a self important swagger ruined by the bad limp the candidiate caused him. Head lowers to settle on his chosen «You'll do nicely, Barek.»

With a triumphant cry the Evil Mister Rogers Brown Hatchling has found its lifemate at last. After a few moments the Weyrlingmaster leads the new pair off the sands.

From the Galleries » Neyuni goes silent, jaw opening. There isn't exactly time to do anything but watch in that sort of slow motion horror that life tricks the senses into absorbing.

From the Galleries » The shadow of a reluctantly well-dressed Zan'ri has continued his skulking. He'd probably have kept right at it, too, if the ceiling hadn't decided to collapse. There's a garbled holler of warning, like it might help anything, but — it doesn't, and the bronzerider is on his feet in a thought. He might shout something; probably not. Vaulting over some poor Igenite's seat, he very nearly tackles the bolting Weyrwoman. In a move that would probably be funny in any other situation, he locks both arms around her middle and hauls back. "Esiae! Stop!"

Q'll got off the Sands just in time to avoid the collapse, but Impressed in time to get the full brunt of Nadaunth's screech, mentally and audibly. Trying not to panic, he ushers his Qhynnveslacth away from the chaos, following orders - but not without a look back over his shoulder to assess the carnage behind.

Maorin may in fact be bleeding. There's red trailing down an arm, certainly not at all from anything he fell in. His head shakes though, eyes riveted on the rather devastated..bodies. At least ones he can see. "Alive.." And that's more than can be said for some.

Seeking the Snake and Powerful Plissken Green is moving more slowly now, though the sudden shrieks add a bit of urgency to her movements. Thankfully, she's unharmed from the falling debris, even if hte storm batters down on her a bit more. Then through the parting figures, her beacon is spotted and she surges forward the last few feet She falls at the feet of her bruised and bleeding chosen with a pathetic little whine and gazes adoringly into her eyes.

With a triumphant cry it seems that the Seeking the Snake and Powerful Plissken Green Hatchling has found its partner at last and impression is made!

Parache is — bleeding. Hey, look. The kid stumbles away from the wreckage and somehow manages to avoid both dragonets and candidates. He's obviously not too hurt to stay, but that can't be said of…the kid goes green, stumbles a little near Maorin. "Are they d-" Beat. "Dead?" The gawky kid is trying not to look at Nadaunth. He is. It's not working.

Janaya swallows, nodding to Maorin as she steps closer to him. "What… happened?" Not that it isn't obvious, in one sense. Even as she asks the question, she lifts her eyes to the dark sky that was the roof… only to have her eyes jump back down sharply at the sound of a whine that somehow, to her, seems louder than that crack. Her eyes widen further - apparently that was possible - and she drops down to her knees, wrapping her arms around that little dragon as if to scoop her up. "Oh, you're okay! I'm so glad you're okay, I'm so glad…" She squeezes her dragon tightly, then nods. "Come on, we'll… we'll figure out something…"

And out of the frey comes the I Aim to Misbehave Bronze. This chaos is his element. Leaving the remnants of his shell behind, he dips and darts through falling stones past that destructive brown, neatly dashing through a waterfall of rain now cascading in from the hole in the roof above, only to rain hell down upon those what get in his way. He's not confused - he just knows where he needs to get, and all these people are in his gorram //way.//

Maorin doesn't really get a chance to answer Janaya on what happened. Not that it wasn't plain to see. But there's a dragon there, and relief that the little green made it, as well as a nearby Parache. The teen blinks, then moves to help hold the other boy steady. "Don't look there, you look this way. You hear me?"

With the noise from all around, a sturdy-built candidate is there to meet the chaos that bronze is tossing around. The woman, Folura or something, shoves one of the candidates out of the way and then dives, herself. Facefirst into the rubble. She gets back up, at least, lurching a little away from a healer rushing to pull others out.

Janaya scrambles to her feet, keeping her arm around the green. "Come on, Leikoirath."

The I Aim to Misbehave Bronze lashes out at a pair of candidates that stumble into his path with a forepaw, lips pulled back from his teeth in a hiss. No! He will //not let you come between him and what is his. Back off! Roughly shouldering them aside, he plows on, skipping over the too-still body of Ainemn in a mad dash. Almost there…//

Big Bada-Boom Egg BURSTS open, spilling The Supreme Being Green Hatchling onto the sands with a creel of surprise. She lands hard on her stomach.

The Supreme Being Green Hatchling
This little dragon is, well, perfect. Soft, deep forest greens enfold a lithe body that is flawlessly formed. Each claw is perfectly straight and dangerously sharp. Her wings are large and yet still graceful, capped with an unsually bright orange at the tips. This same coloration is spotted along her back and appears again on her head knobs. There's a sinuous beauty to her body, even freshly hatched, and a strength to her that belies her petite form.

Kera weaves through the debris, wincing as she checks on a couple of bleeding candidates. Moving on, she spots the newly impressed pairs and waves them off the sands. "Over here weyrlings, get her fed."

The Supreme Being Green Hatchling stands absolutely still for a good minute, frozen in the wake of the chaos around her. Is it terror that holds her in place, or something else? Her whirling gaze scans the candidates from afar, and then abruptly she sets out with certain steps toward a stocky boy standing on his own. She moves with surprising grace for one newly hatched, never a misstep as she approaches one of Xanadu's own, a well-muscled lad with a penchant for trouble who is currently covered in a mess of cuts and bruises. She plants herself in front of him with confidence, leaving the newly minted Ko'bin to stare down at her in bewilderment. "Lelomitchaith? That… that whole thing's your name, huh? Do you have, uh, a shorter name?" With his stunned gaze still fixed on her, the pair are lead off the sands, barely even aware of the destruction around them.

The wobbling, slightly bleed-y Parache manages to stare at Maorin. "But." His chin wobbles, but he's listening, nodding reluctantly. "They're dead." He's sure, now, but his eyes flick back to Nadaunth for a second; "She's…not? She's okay." He's absolutely not going to cry. He's going to watch Maorin, and maybe glance towards Janaya and Ko'bin occasionally, wide-eyed.

With a triumphant cry the The Supreme Being Green Hatchling has found its lifemate at last. After a few moments the Weyrlingmaster leads the new pair off the sands.

From the Galleries » "Get off of me, Alzanbri! GET OFF!" Esiae's fists swing for whatever part of Zan'ri she can reach, voice strained to breaking as she twists and lunges in his grip. She can see that candidates and dragonets are still moving down there, but not the one she wants. Not the one she's related to. Not her nephew. "Let me go or I'll kill you!" With what, her words? Unlikely. He's going to have to haul her out of here though, the same as S'gam is having to do with Cai. Luckily, the kids are too stunned to react with more than numb disbelief, mouths open as Esi aims a stomp at Zan's feet.

Folura's not done, though! "Watch where you're /going/!" The woman huffs at the bronze who's not paying her a bit of attenion, then grabs hold of one of the stunned candidates to steady them. "Almost over with." She mutters, ignoring the other girl getting blood all over her side while they stand awkwardly just away from the torrent of water. They'll just…wait. Here.

From the Galleries » C'rus spots his weyrmate down on the sands and quickly comes to the conclusion that she is ok, but still sits on the edge of his seat, ready to make a move if they make a call for additional help. He spots the altercation between Esiae and an unknown individual, but says nothing at first. Then it dawns on him…she is a weyrwoman she can offer direction, "Do you need help?" he calls out to Esaie, "Down there?" he asks. Clearly Zan'ri is no threat to her and he is starting to piece together the issue.

From the Galleries » Zan'ri is very decidedly not looking at the sands, too busy trying to keep hold on a terrified, very determined Esiae. He doesn't respond exept a grunt as an elbow hits his kidneys; although he does shoot a wide-eyed 'ixNAY' stare at C'rus briefly. The distraction gets his feet stomped, but the rider goes with it, hitching his hands together and lifting. He's going to follow S'gam and Cai out of here with Esiae. "Fine, shardit, but you're not going down there." He's not going to let her go get herself killed by a second collapse; not for threats or anything. The rider starts backing up, inching after the other struggling pair.

Maorin nods quickly. "They are. But you're not." There's little else that can really be of comfort to anyone at the moment. He certainly doesn't look terribly pleasant either. He's dirty and bloody himself, and even a bit wet from the wind whipping all that pouring water around. He lightly claps the other candidate on the shoulder though.

Zhai settles her new lifemate beside her, the green now stuffed and slightly sleepy.

The I Aim to Misbehave Bronze trumpets, victorious despite the insane odds. Sure, he snapped at a few ankles and ripped a couple of folks new ones as he went, but they'll heal. Besides, he had a rider to protect - //his rider, specifically. Eyes whirling rapidly, head high, the bronze circles around the legs of his scratched, scarred candidate and flares his wings, daring anyone — especially this Parache — to try him. Just TRY.//

With a triumphant cry it seems that the I Aim to Misbehave Bronze Hatchling has found its partner at last and impression is made!

"We're not." Parache agrees shakily and — then hollers as that wandering bronze comes and nearly goes through him to Maorin. "Nononono!" His voice chooses this moment to go deep again, booming out as he falls over himself to dive out of the way. The sand is hot, but not as bad as that dragon's claws. "Yeah!" The kid manages, although he might have wet himself. He smiles brightly at the weyrling and then flees. He's going *home*. Right now.

Q'll, in between feeding Qhynn and watching the Sands with wide-boggled eyes, waves to Janaya. "Jan! Jan! You're ok!" And he is so relieved by it, too. "Faranth's arse, is that Maorin with that bronze?" Because it's sure not fleeing Parache…

Maorin might be rattled by the chaos, but there's a certain amount of serenity once that bronze rumbles right into place next to him. Hardly a look aside, a slow sideways stare for the wing-flared, rather protective hatchling. "If you do that to everyone you meet there won't be an unsoiled pair of pants in the Weyr." There's a faint smile that forms, only halfway there amidst the turmoil of the sands. "Masikoth, huh? Yeah, Mas /is/ better." But the bronze has the right of things, and the two are already moving across the sand and moving around rubble to get to the other weyrlings. "You really have to go with M'ori, huh?"

Jaya lives! And so does Leikoirath, and she's hungry. Whichever of them it is that's hungry. She flashes a grin to Q'll, only a moment because… here, meat! Leikoirath sniff-chomps at it eagerly, wiggling as she does. "I'm fine. We're fine. But hungry." Here, Leikoirath! Have more meat.

Only once the last of the weyrlings has exited the sands is Innes able to leave Kairoikyriath's side. The queen is now safely in the hands of the dragonhealers, who are busy carefully cleaning the various cuts and scrapes that pepper her vanilla-gold hide. She steps forward, for the first time tentative, her gaze carefully avoiding the crimson stains upon the sands. "I…" She clears her throat, gaze dropping away from the candidates as she gathers her thoughts. "I'm sorry." There's a deep breath as her gaze rises, past still-standing candidates and galleries and toward the ceiling. There's still rain falling, some of it on her, but that hardly seems important. "Your dragon was not shelled in this clutch," she says haltingly, "but that doesn't mean that there won't be another. We hope to see you on the sands next time." A grimace. "And if you require… counseling… we will provide someone. If you require medical care, healers will be waiting at the exits. If…" She takes a deep breath, gaze steady as she finishes, "We will mourn those lost today, even as we celebrate those who found their 'mates on the sands. Please make your way indoors, to safety. Thank you." And with that Xanadu's Weyrwoman quietly takes her leave, and returns to Kairoikyriath's side with head bowed, as a shaken Weyr slowly begins to truly assess the damage and loss.

From the Galleries » Esiae is not happy, but luckily she isn't in control of whether she stays or goes anymore. Poor C'rus. Perhaps Innes' mention of healers at the entrances will offer him some guidance, because the shrieking weyrwoman isn't in the state to, alas. Bodily hauled away, all she can do is screech and continue to rain hell on the bronzerider carrying her off. Ignore the tears staining his coat - they'll be washed away as soon as they get outside, anyways.

From the Galleries » C'rus can endure no more of this. He rises to his feet and begins to make his way toward the stairs as quickly as he will be allowed too given the others that are likely leaving as well, "What a mess.." he mutters under his breath, "Tragedy…" he adds and with that is likely out of earshot of anyone left sitting in the stands.

From the Galleries » A rather stunned Janja drifts zombie like out into the storm where her dragon has actually returned with little complaint and is waiting restlessly outside as close as she can get. The visitor moves them both out of the way to allow those more qualified to deal with the destruction and to comfort the touchy gold.

From the Galleries » Neyuni waits awhile. There isn't anything she can do below. She's normally the one causing explosins and all, but they are ever much more controlled and not so ill timed. She lets others clear first, knowing the best thing she can do at the moment is to stay out of the way. Perhaps even mentally composing some words for Xanadu after such events. In due time the crowd thins and the chaos settles and she moves on.

From the Galleries » Zan'ri doesn't seem to notice the fists or — actually any of the other traumatized watchers and their reactions. He's got a few handsfull of Esiae to drag from the stands before she jumps out to start digging. Or before the *rest* of the roof gives up the ghost. The bronzerider is grim-faced and still avoiding the sands, backing as quickly as he can dag them out and away. He does spare C'rus a tragic look that might be commiseration, but it's brief, and the other rider is gone. There's not really much Zan can say, for or to Esi, except that he sure as hell keeps a grip on her as he shuffles them out and heads off to find S'gam and Cai.

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