Egg Touching

Xanadu Weyr - Hatching Sands
The large circular "stage" is surrounded on one half by a towering wall, thin slit windows high overhead letting in some light without truly endangering the objects on the sands, though plenty of lights are spaced at human-level all the way around. The other half is ringed by the dark blue seats of the observation level, rising upwards towards the back wall. 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.

Fyenai bites his lower lip, squinting his eyes slightly as if he were trying to look through something. He doesn't push into the egg, though, just waits patiently to see if there's anything else, fighting the sandy scene with a soft, blue, cooling wind. Woosh back!

Mysarra sighs with a small shrug. "I don't know, they just seem to want to frolic around."

Mylla thinks for a moment, then decides that her opinions on her fellow candidates might be useful to the egg's occupant. She begins pouring through her list, giving particularly good portrayals of her friends. She also throws in a good number of funny anecdotes about them.

Keriana nods. "It's ok. There are some other eggs that I haven't met, and it would be very sad if I just.. didn't know who they were." Keriana steps away, and towards Bonded to an Alpha Egg.

Fyenai bites down on his lip but doesn't move away from the egg, just remaining calm himself and feeling it swirl around his mind. He could probably try to respond in some manner, but for the most part, he remains blank and waiting, filling his head with nothing more than a serene little pond. There we go.

Mylla blushes just a little for some reason at something from the egg. She's careful now to keep her conversation entirely mental, not to be overheard by her fellow candidates. Her opinion of the harper is quite good. Very, very good in fact. She has more than a few funny and endearing stories to share about him. She herself doesn't know how to sing, but she'd quite like to learn, too.

Mysarra smiles, "Ask him about his area, how clean it is."

Fyenai winces just a little, but keeps his eyes closed, just focusing on the egg itself, and only in his head. He furrows his brow and plays a quiet song through his head, trying to chase that light tune.

Ziven sighs slightly as he lets his hand fall from the egg, moving away with a thoughtful look to his face, chewing absently on his lower lip

Keriana winces again. This seems to be a habit here. "Ouch, I say. Ouch. But you're so young that you'll grow into it, I guess." Thoughts of little baby rattlesnakes that don't know their own strength. "But you're not dangerous, are you? Not that anyone else would think you were.. Oh.. right. Images, not talking. " She wrinkles her brow, deep in touch and thought.

Mysarra smiles and strokes the shell of the egg. "You can, and should ask her about her area, like how clean it is." She says to the egg, apparently she is talking about Keriana."

Fyenai smiles faintly now, stroking the shell of the egg with great care and continuing the tune in his head gently. He bites his lip yet again as he attempts to carefully inject his own colors of sand into those swirling through his mind.

Mylla giggles at her egg again. She seems to be in agreement with it, at least somewhat. Though, there's a note of surprise in her mind. Wouldn't the egg be jealous if the canidates all paired off and she ended up with a partner who kept hanging out with cute boys? Also, wasn't the egg the one thinking matchmaking might be dangerous? There's a little good-natured teasing in Mylla's mind.

Keriana hums thoughtfully. "Is it possible to direct the egg-thoughts?" This is all so weird. They look like rocks, except they think when you touch them. "It's.. um.. I don't know. Very focused. But it's thinking about other things, like.. well, I'm getting the image of butterflies. See if it'll tell you about them." This is, again, all so weird. "But you're not dangerous or anything. " That would be talking to the egg. "Oh.. more thinking. Less talking. Right." She may not be the only one that is lost.

Mysarra nods and turns to Keriana, "It think your not so open." She tells Keriana, "You are confusing it." She says and smiles patting the sand, "Sit down, and talk to it just see what happens."

Mylla breaks out into laughter, grinning at the egg with absolute delight. "That's a great attitude you have… and that's maybe not a bad idea. Some dragons have had bad romantic experiences, after all. Maybe your service'd help."

Keriana is starting to get it. "Well, I'm not sure if they are edible or not. I don't think they're poisonous, which is probably a good thing?" Her voice rises in a question tone, thinking about.. "Well, I'm glad that you think everything's ok. It's a little hot here for me, but it's probably just right with you. But I think that I'll leave you to your rest, for now." She steps away, looking for another one, a little one somewhere that hasn't made it's presence know.

Mylla is silent for a moment, as if mulling over some suggestion from the egg. Then she giggles again. "Well, alright. If you promise you'll still like me if I do. After all, boys are cute, but little dragons are much cuter."

Mysarra smiles at the innocence of the egg. "Somethings out here don't really have a purpose, but butterflies are mostly to spread the pollen so the flowers will bloom."

« In Keriana's Mind, Tinklings of Tiny Golden Bells whisk into your mind jingling merry tunes to itself. A wee light but not lacking in brilliance, it darts here and there, dancing with joy of itself. But there's a familiar presence. With a tinkle like chimes it draws up close to your mind to inspectly, glowing marvelous colors in curiousity. Certainly you've come to see it? It twirls merrily. And isn't it just gorgeous? »

Mylla grins and shakes her head quickly at the egg. "No no no. I'm sure you'll be absolutely beautiful. Or absolutely handsome. One or the other. I can tell these things. Just like I can tell which candidates go together. You can trust me."

Keriana laughs outloud. "Hello again! You're just as sparkly and gorgeous as you were before!" Because, you see.. this one was remembered. "And very curious about everything too. You've got a delightful chime about you, and it's.. well, not as hot here as elsewhere." Sagenod.

Fyenai smiles happily at the sandstorm in his head, in the end leaning down to give a little dusty kiss to the egg's shell. Then he steps away, moving back across the Sands. He stops in order to rub the back of his hand across his chest, huffing a sigh at the heat, then peeks curiously in the direction of the Far Side egg, heading over to touch it gently and curiously.

Mysarra smiles and gives a chuckle, "Yes, you would not be the first Dragonet and won't be the last to try and eat butterflies. As a small child I would try and catch them, but they are fast and so pretty that maybe they shouldn't be caught." She is stilling talking to the egg, must be a good conversation.

« In Keriana's Mind, Tinklings of Tiny Golden Bells chime marvelously at the compliments, twirling with joyous golds and glimmering blue and purple undertones of vanity. How marvelous! Perfectly marvelous. It dances back and forth a bit before pausing in it's chimes. It was still warm here of course. Otherwise it would not be happy… It suddenly worries about the temperature of teh sand around it's egg, gold shimmering to yellow and bells quivering nervously. »

Mylla snickers at the egg, shrugging her shoulders. "Feminine intuition. Maybe you have it too? But that's one of the things I don't know, unfortunately. But I am sure you'll be absolutely wonderful."

« In Fyenai's Mind, Soft Scratchings of Pencil and Groans of Waterlogged Wood roll in… and out… in and out, like the waves at sea. The pencil becomes most dominate, as if someone is furiously writing and making computations. It pauses however, allowing the creaking of boards and a gentle slosh of water to take over. Scents of fromaldahide and surgical scrub leak forth but are pushed away with the salt of the sea. Greetings. A click of a pencil being put down. How might it asist you. Many pardons for the messiness of this place. The sound of rustling papers and tinkling glass can be heard as if order is trying to be made in light of a guest. Dim lights, like candles, flicker in your mind. »

Keriana quiets it with soothing touches. "It's ok, I'm sure it's perfectly warm here and very nice. You're totally fine, everything's ok.." Goodness. We did not know that Keriana was good at comforting anything. Generally, she's just pretty helpless. A quiet smile, and she sits down beside it.

Fyenai tilts his head to the side slightly, smiling very faintly, sending in a sense of approval or at least negating the need for apology. He furrows his brow in thought, eventually pushing a querying thought towards whatever was being written. His free hand lifts to scratch against the edge of his eyebrow, probably itchy thanks to all the sand.

Mylla giggles and nods to her egg again. "I'm sure you have it, whatever the gender is. I really can't wait to see you out of your shell…" Her smile fades, a little sad, as she slowly withdraws from the egg. "I'm sorry, but I can't stay much longer. I'll be back though, and with more stories for you. Promise."

Mysarra strokes the egg a last time and says, 'I need to move a little but will be back to see you, I promise."

Mysarra walks over towards Second to the right egg and lays her fingers on it.

« In Keriana's Mind, Tinklings of Tiny Golden Bells shimmer delicately. Things are okay? Really? It jingles a little and flashing many colors as if checking itself over. Yes. Yes you are right. It's perfectly fine! How wonderful! It brightens right back up sending shimmering glitter towards you that bejewels your mind so you are -almost- as pretty as it. It spins and twirls, playing a little tune. Surely there must be rejoicing at such news. Yes. A party! »

Keriana laughs, again. "Almost as pretty. I like that." Keriana is not pretty. Tiny, yes. Pretty, no. But if the egg thinks so, ok. "You're quite twinkly, and very shiny.. but do you think about other things?" Not that she is bored or anything with shininess, or that she would ever want to hurt its feelings or anything. Because that would be uncalled for.

Mylla makes her slow withdraw from the egg, then sets to wandering about the eggs for a new one to visit with. She spends all her time with the same ones, perhaps she should branch out a bit? The Death from Above egg catches her eye, and she steps over to place her palm on the surface.

« In Fyenai's Mind, Soft Scratchings of Pencil and Groans of Waterlogged Wood resume for a moment, the pencil making idle marks of vague import. The paper rustles and images of many different things, dolphins, seas, lands, mountains, various places, images of people, of dragons, of other animals all come flurrying forward from the pages. The subtle scent of healing herbs undertones the scent of paper. Visitors told it these things, showed it these things. Some are from them, some from other eggs. Delighted sounds come from the creaking of wood and the candlelight glows brightly. »

« In Keriana's Mind, Tinklings of Tiny Golden Bells chimes brightly. Of course you are pretty! It has sprayed sparklies to make you -very- pretty! Like it! … almost. It jingles to rejoice more in the shiney and twinkliness that is it! But pause… Other things? Oh yes. Yes yes. It twinkles a moment then dims giving off a feeling of a headache another visitor gave and how it worries for that person. It shimmers a pale blue sadly. Then shimmers and tinkles softly about how lonely it is in here. Though, it brightens some, it has fun being the most shiney and beautiful… but it's not always fun when there's no one to play games with. »

Mylla smiles hesitantly, unsure, reflecting the feeling she gets from the egg. "I hope I didn't wake you up?" The question seems to confuse the questionner. Do eggs sleep? "I'll let you rest." She withdraws and searches for a new egg to play with. The Far Side of the World Egg looks interesting enough. She steps up to it and places her fingers on the shell.

Keriana is delighted with the shininess of life inside the egg. "My goodness, and what a pretty golden color! Do I detect.. why yes.. you've certainly got that violet sunset down.. How did you know that?" Puzzles and games sparkle in her eyes, and it's very easy to sit for hours next to the bellchiming noises that run through her mind with this one. She taps one side of the egg, waiting for it to tap back, then hurriedly moves to another place to tap. More games.

Fyenai tilts his head to the side and shifts his hips as he contemplates for a time, eventually sending a few of his own images into the egg, ones he's not entirely sure it has yet. He includes crawlies and certain people he's known, caves and underground forests, a sprawling desert. Once he's done this, and once the egg has responded with some sort of understanding - or none at all - the youth steps back from it, smiling vaguely.

Ziven sighs slightly as he rounds the eggs, kneeling to touch a few before continuing again, "Most of 'em are sleeping." He mutters quietly to himself as his hand slips off again, turning to watch the other candidates.

Mysarra nods and steps back a little, "Yes they are," she says to ziven. "Do you know what the purpose of butterflie is?" She asks walking towards Ziven.

« In Mylla's Mind, Soft Scratchings of Pencil and Groans of Waterlogged Wood roll in and out like the sea. Steady and sure. The pencil is brief as if making just short hand computations. Dim lights flicker in and out like lantern lights or candles. The overwhelming scents of surgical scrub are wafted over with the salt of the sea and sweet scents of exotic healing herbs. The pencil pauses and the groan deepens in greetings. How might it help you? Water washes over the base of your mind. Pardon the leak. »

« In Keriana's Mind, Tinklings of Tiny Golden Bells jingle! Games! It hurriedly chimes at one side of the egg then flits over, twirling pretty golds and purples to the other side and jingles, then darts away quickly and jingles expectantly at the far side, leaving trails of golden glitter behind it. It pipes a little tune to accompany it's bells. »

Mylla scrunches up her nose as her fingertips rub the egg, as if smelling something strong and vaguely unpleasant. "You're… odd. What are you up to? Thinking about something?"
Ziven blinks at Mysarra and arches a brow, "Pollinating flowers?" He offers to Mysarra, "Being food for other animals that eat insects?"

« In Fyenai's Mind, Soft Scratchings of Pencil and Groans of Waterlogged Wood commence at once, pencil flying over paper as it takes notes. The groans offer many thanks for all this knowledge. It shall think upon it at once. As it picks up on your desire to leave it thanks you once more with a wash of water and leaves you with the sound of a large tolling bell. »

Mysarra nods and sighs, "Well I will explain that later to the egg," she says to ziven. "Do you want to come with me to the barracks?"

« In Mylla's Mind, Soft Scratchings of Pencil and Groans of Waterlogged Wood are a bit reserved a moment, as if debating how to take that comment. The water becomes a little chill and it's thoughts are perhaps a bit more formal. Thinking. Yes. Many things. Things visitors have told it about. There's a ruffling of pages and a few brief images of beasts and birds and places on Pern or merely imagined are sent forward. There's a clinking of glass and teh scent of a warm herbal liquid wafts forth in offering, the chill and formality lingering in each thought. Clearly being called odd has put it off a bit. »

Mysarra walks towards the barracks alone, oh well he didn't want to come.

Mylla continues to scrunch her nose, then lifts one hand away from the egg to cover a sneeze. Apparently, she decides it would be in poor taste to put that hand back on the egg, and lets just the other one remain there. "Odd isn't necessarially bad, you know. You're a curious type? Anything you want me to tell you about?"

« In Mylla's Mind, Soft Scratchings of Pencil and Groans of Waterlogged Wood gives the cautious air of not wanting to impose upon you. You did, it reminds with a gentle rustle of papers, come to see it. But it pauses as it rejudging itself a moment, the sea scent lessening somewhat, and with a low groan of wood it calmly appologizes for it's quick judgement, though those are also polite, but not so chill and reserved. »

Kilaueth shifts from where she's remained rather quiet for the duration of the Touching. Quiet no longer, she rumbles, spreading her wings protectively, and dropping her muzzle towards the ground, looking rather.. annoyed.

Mylla manages a little smile for the egg, nervous. "I didn't mean to impose… or judge you. I'm just curious about you. What're you so interested in?"

Niva glances over her shoulder at Kilaueth, attempting to shush her with little success. Stepping off the platform, then, she waves her head. "That's all for now, everyone. You'll be able to return and touch the eggs again later." Best move everyone off the Sands before they're missing one.

Ziven turns as he hears Niva's voice, pouting, "And I didn't even get to touch many of them." He shoots a quick glare to a few candidates before heading out.

« In Mylla's Mind, Soft Scratchings of Pencil and Groans of Waterlogged Wood creak images of lands primarily, and some of teh creatures. There's a gonging of a bell however and the egg withdraws a moment, returning to apologize but it must attend elsewhere. It thanks you with warm thoughts and scents of herbs for coming to visit it. It washes away from your thoughts like the waves that had entered, leaving the gonging bell to fade slower like a ship on the horizon. »

Mylla withdraws from the egg when she hears the declaration from Niva, taking just a moment to offer a mental farewell to the egg. She then offers a deep bow to the gold, then makes her way out with the other candidates.

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