Eyes, look your last.

Xanadu Weyr - Observation Level

Dark blue seats form a semi-circle around the sands below, the lowest row separated from the multicolored red and white sands by merely a railing. The seats climb upwards, each row a bit higher than the previous, and they are broken up into sections by three sets of staircases. Between the first and second section, a glass wall descends to separate the observers from the heat of the sands. Air is kept in motion through a set of fans, and so these seats are quieter and cooler than the rest… though the noise and heat of the sands is still present.

Lights are evenly spaced along the outer wall, lighting the seats and the sands easily, though they tend to be dimmed unless a major event is taking place. A large balcony overhead connects to the glass wall. Vents for cooling run along the bottom of it, and the ledge provides a place for observers of the draconic kind to watch without obstructing the view for others.

The sand below is variegated in hue, individual grains of red and white that have a pinkish hue when seen from across the circle of the hatching grounds but - up close over that railing - are clearly two varieties mingled.

There's no way that there aren't Candidates in here today, of all days. The Hatching is imminent, as everyone with any sense knows, and those who aren't busy preparing the Weyr for all the fuss that comes with Impression are often wandering in and out of the galleries, taking their last looks at the eggs. There's a group of girls down near the front, whispering and giggling and biting their nails. There's a group of boys not far away, mumbling and gawking and biting their lips. Sitting much farther up the tiered seating, there's Jonteim, eating an apple and watching the doings with those cold eyes of his.

Kaitro has grabbed himself some snacks to do some egg watching, carrying a basket full of little patries and things, he makes his way through the candidates, offering out the basket to anyone perhaps interested in a treat before he plops next to Jon without so much as asking if he can join. The basket is offered and Kai beams cheerfully down at the eggs, "Well, not too much longer now and we'll be down there with the eggs all hatched and moving on back to our lives."

The boys, of course, are only too happy to avail themselves of Kaitro's pastries. Two of the girls accept, but one demurs with the annoying comment, "A moment on the lips, forever on the hips," and pats her too-thin figure covetously. Which accounts for why Jonteim is snickering by the time that Kaitro reaches where he's sitting, though he stiffles some of that wry chuckling by taking another crunchy bite of apple, still chewing when the boy with the basket plops down next to him. To his credit, he doesn't, like, relocate immediately or anything, though he does shift about four inches farther down the bench, increasing his personal space just a bit. "So they say," he answers around his mouthful. "Skinny one's trying to convince the other ones that that reddish-yellow egg's a gold," he conveys, nodding to the girls.

Kaitro shrugs his shoulders, "Some guys don't mind if women aren't incredibly skinny," But that's a personal taste and Kai is lounging on the benches, eyes flickering over towards Jon's movements with a roll of his eyes. "I'm not going to bite, Jon." He laughs cheerfully, turning his gaze back down to the sands with a little grin, a hand delves into the basket and pulls out a pastry, freshly baked judging by the smells and the warmth eminating from the little basket. "A gold? Shards, I don't know about that…I wouldn't know how you even determine a gold egg anymore. I haven't been up to the gallaries in ages. I just hope the one I'm fond of isn't a gold."

Jonteim answers for the possibility of being bitten with a shrug and no effort to make up for his whole 'what if Kaitro is patient zero?!' reaction to proximity. The dude just likes his privacy, and that apparently extends to sitting on benches in galleries. "Says she 'got a feeling' when she was on the Sands," he explains. Indeed, the snippets of conversation drifting up to them from where the girls sit seem to indicate the discussion is ongoing, still with them having a good-natured argument about that one egg in particular. "Which?" Is the one he's fond of, presumably.

Kaitro casts his gaze down towards the females, shaking his head in a slow disbelieving manner, "I don't know, none of the ones I touched felt like golds to me. I mean…they didn't really feel like any particular color…they just felt like things who were trying to understand us. I don't know how you get a color from that." Kai says slowly, laughing cheerfully down at the eggs. One hand lifts up to point at the green, red and creamish egg that is Someone's Been At Me Egg, "I liked that one, it liked food. And it felt nice, unlike the others, they were a bit wierd…" He trails off quietly.

"Wishful thinking," is how Jonteim attributes the girl thinking she knows the color inside an egg, and he doesn't exactly keep his opinion on the QT. The girls must be able to catch the gist, and the skinny one gives them an imperious huff before loudly suggesting that her little clique go somewhere else. The others are more charitable, and one even chirps her gratitude toward Kaitro for the pastries before, like any good lemming, she follows her leader out of the galleries. Once all that's done, Jon's back to the matter of how eggs feel. "Stuck inside a shell for three months, you might start feeling weird, too."

"I suppose you're right," Kaitro agrees, his eyes flickering to watch the females trail off, shaking his head at their antics. "Feel bad for them, really, there's so much more than just wanting to be liked." And that's really all he says on the subject of the girls and their little clique, turning his attention instead to the eggs, tilting his head slightly to one side. "Well…they'll be getting out any day now, I suppose. That's what the healers are saying, about this time I'd be in the kitchens getting ready. It feels so weird that I'll be out there with all of you…"

Jonteim's one-word question seems fair, in light of how Kaitro ends his thoughts. It feels so weird: "Why?" There's a little bit of challenge in the way he asks it, true, but that's kinda just how Jon rolls. He finishes the apple in a last couple bites and holds the core by the stem, letting it dangle from his fingertips while it turns brown.

Kaitro shaks his head slowly at the question, his eyes flitting over towards the other candidate with a arched brow. "You don't say much, do you?" Keen observation there, Kaitro. A smile pulls at his lips and he shrugs his shoulders as he answers the question posed by the other candidate, "I'm always in the kitchens fixing up the food for the hatching feast. I haven't been to a hatching in forever. So it feels wierd I'll be down there this time. It'll be nice just watch them hatch for once, usually I miss everything."

Jonteim shrugs again. He's good at it, so may as well keep at it. He doesn't say anything about whether or not he says much, just lets the shrug (not) speak for itself. "Got nothing to do with 'with all of you,' then. Just that it'll be weird to be down there at all," he clarifies, nodding to himself like now it makes sense. In place of the girls, there come a few weyrbrats, no more than nine or ten, bouncing on their toes with barely contained eagerness and jabbering about how maybe, even though their folks or whoever said they're too young, just maybe one of the dragons'll want them from the galleries. "Kids're stupid," is Jon's take on that particular wishful thinking.

Kaitro shrugs his shoulders, "I guess that's weird too, I mean, I never figured myself or a candidate. I've lived here for a long time, I'm past the age where dragons would normally take interest in me. I guess maybe this time there's something down there?" His eyes flicker down towards the weyrbrats, laughing cheerfully at their wishful thinking. "Hey, we were kids once too. I used to think that maybe I'd get lucky enough to be a dragonrider like my mom and dad. But then I got into cooking and I've been enraptured ever since." Quiet cheerful laughter is heard and he leans forward, resting his arms on his legs. "Sometimes it's nice to do a bit of wishful thinking, you never know what the future might have in store for you."

No comment addresses whether or not Jonteim was ever a kid, though he does essay a bland look at the idea that he, too-cool-for-school Jon, was ever some wide-eyed weyrbrat with hopes of an Impression from the galleries. What he does address, with a snicker, is the future: "Got a pretty good idea." And he counts them off on his apple-core-free hand. "Impress, don't Impress, get mauled and die."

Kaitro snerks slightly, eyes flickering over toward Jon, shaking his head slowly as he observes the other candidate. It's his turn to go silent, casting his gaze down to the sands though the other candidate's words cause him to snort. "Must you be so morbid? It's very rare that a dragon'll maul a candidate. Keep out of their way and you'll be fine. They only strike out if you keep 'em from getting to what they want. They're just out of the shell, they're hungry, and they need to impress."

"Listen," Jonteim begins with the utmost confidence, his faith unshaken despite Kaitro's perfectly reasonable suggestions. "One, just said you don't normally stand, so you dunno, do you." Not a question. "Two, how're you gonna stay outta their way and still Impress? Think about it. Three, gotta be a reason for the stories." Four, he stands up, having said his piece.

"You do know I am a resident of the weyr, right? I've been here a long, long time. I hear everything that happens after a hatching. Just cause I'm not up here doesn't mean I don't know what I'm talking about." Kaitro says, screwing up his face as he listens to Jon, he shakes his head slowly. "They're gonna impress you if they want to impress you. I don't know all the technical mumbo jumbo, but most of the time thy don't hurt the ones they want to impress. Least that's what I've heard. Most of the stories are because you get people who don't get out of their way or try to stick too close together."

Jonteim heard exactly one thing in all that. "That's right. You dunno." So there. With a nod, as if he's made some profound point, he trots off down the stairs and out of the galleries, heading out to spread cheer and love throughout the Weyr.

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