Monaco Bay Weyr - Hatching Sands
The sand of the cavern stretches out to all sides, searing hot at all times of the day from the geothermal heat that this extinct volcano provides. With only the very top of the cavern open to the elements, allowing vision of the sky and the occasional shower through, but little more. Thick with dark sand, imported and sifted for its extreme fineness and silken feel, this cavern is home to the Queens during their brooding and their multitude of eggs. Off to one side is a risen platform for the Queen's rider and her mate's rider, allowing them a rest from the heat their dragons endure.
For several days now dark clouds have hovered over the seas surrounding Monaco, and it seems that tonight they have finally decided to roll in. Outside the wind whips about, creating ghoulish howls that mix with the keening of dragons. Though many human and dragon faces have gathered to greet the soon to arrive dragonets, it appears that another small hoard of unwelcome visitors has also joined the gathering. Thousands of spiderclaws have encroached upon the Weyr - and this veritable army now assaults both the sands and the stands.
Shouts and shrieks can be heard in the dingy twilight as a small batch falls from the ceiling, and with it…the power suddenly goes out. A few seconds tick by before they come to life once more, but this is short lived. The lights continue to flicker, and paired with the loud storm outside a sense of eeriness envelopes the island Weyr.
Fuerioth herself seems unconcerned with the pinching creatures and the dawn colored dragon croons her welcome. She remains nestled next to Yevith as swirling eyes take in the scene before her. Reya is a stark contrast to her calm lifemate. The Weyrwoman stands on the sands platform with a broom in hand. Every so often a battle cry leaves her lips and she swats at an incoming hoarde with a broom. Is she even aware that there is a hatching happening? Not really…..
True to its name, there really is nothing to see here! Nothing to See Here Egg is merely a rock. Just a rock. Look elsewhere for entertainment!
Satisfyingly Simple Sedated and Serene Egg gives a single shudder, ripples descending down the shell in quiet waves. Just as suddenly as the movement stops it?s stilled.
Spiderclaws swarm the sands, though some intrepid souls have brought some buckets to help with the menace. There is no stemming the tide of lobstrosities, but I'aija can be heard calling for assistance in getting some kind of cooking station set up outside. Waste not, want not!
Nefarin isn't nervous. You're nervous. After bowing to the dam and sire with the rest of his candidate class in respect and deference, he moves out onto the sand with a keen eye on Graysen and those wobbling eggs.
Oh. Well. It looks like there might be something to see here? Nothing to See Here Egg appears to have picked up some more cragginess, with bits pushed out and others sinking in. But does it move? Not when someone's looking, it doesn't!
…What the hell is the clutch daddy wearing? No, not the dragon, silly. His /rider/! Br'aby stands awkwardly on the platform, hair damp with sweat, wearing what appears to be a flowing dressing gown make of silk with a complex black and white print that may or may not be floral. The pants he wears underneath are made of matching silk, while his chest is left mostly bare. He has at least donned some sandals in deference to the sands. He is standing FAR back from the edge of that platform. Yes, he is letting Reya fight his battles for him. No, he does not appear ashamed.
Yevith, on the other hand, is all business. The large bronze hovers over the eggs attentively, watching their every move and giving a running commentary to any dragons who may be nearby. No doubt everyone is going to get very tired of hearing how each and every hatchling is individually the best and brightest of all possible hatchlings.
Graysen enters with the other candidates, quickly taking his place at Nefarin's side. He bows with the others, expression almost terrified as he shifts from one foot to the other and gives the encroaching spiderclaws a wary look, "Do you think they'll go after the eggs?" That's a really big concern.
A Guiding Light shimmers, shines, and twinkles. Is that illusionary glow starting to waver? Are those glimmers reflecting off the sands, or just a trick of the heat and confusion of the sands? Look closely. Very closely? Yes! There, it wiggled. Definitely rocked a bit. But just a bit, before it falls still again. False alarm!
A few spiderclaws seem to have found things of interest, their grabby-grabbers locking onto rocks or bits of old shell. One scuttles across with an envelope securely pinched in its grip. For whom? It's impossible to say.
A'she sighs as the lights go out. "Par for the course," he growls as he picks his way to where Reya and Br'aby stand, ignoring the way the wet sands suck at his boots. From the sound of crunching, he's stepping on more than a few spiderclaws - don't worry, I'aija, there'll be plenty for your bake. "We need to invest in hand-held lanterns or something. Doesn't the techcraft have any of those… what did they call them? Flashlights?"
Kelenaro gives his bows as well, deep and sweeping. A Hatching in a rainstorm. How was he to see anything? Wiggling eggs, better hurry as he moves to take his place in line, stand near Logain. But not too close, Plenty of room is the order of the day. He felt the nervous energy welling up, now ready to explode, all repression attempts failing him.
Finally, finally, the truth is revealed. Nothing to See Here Egg wasn't a rock after all! No! It was an egg all along! HA! Except, now, it's not even an egg so much as a heap of shards, with a titanic beast lurking in the shattered remains.
"Look, he is dressed /up/, ok? You aren't getting anywhere near his clothes!" Reya…please, this is a hatching! She swats a small group of crawlies away from Br'aby before turning her gaze to the spiderclaw with the envelope. "Oooooo…what's that?" Distractions distractions. One would think she'd pay more attention to the eggs.
Nefarin looks to Graysen and shakes his head, thought he does eyeball the one the envelope, "The couriers sure have let themselves go…"
| Smoke-Wreathed Titan Hatchling |
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| Smoke seems to have congealed into a singular, monstrous form. Everything about it seems to be wrong - too long, too sharp, too twisted. Light reflects off of the grey mottling and reveals nothing of what resides beneath. Color remains a mystery and all that remains is the impression of a terrible beast wrought entirely of smoke and nightmares. |
Satisfyingly Simple Sedated and Serene Egg shudders suddenly once more the movement causing a violent rocking. As if the fire from within was building to a violent crescendo, cracks create fissures alone the entire shell. Within minutes the whole shell is filled with cracks before it just stops as if the occupant inside was waiting for just the right moment to emerge.
Logain bows with the others, sticking close to Muijan and dodging unwelcome guests. Nope. Maybe he won't do anything with them after all.
A few candidates yelp and yowl, as pinchy-pinchy claws catch at toes or heels. One candidate is soon sporting a pair of spiderclaws firmly affixed to the hem of their robe. It's a questionable fashion choice.
Kelenaro stomps at a crawling spiderclaw, confident his boot can withstand any pinches. He did NOT need any distractions right now
A Guiding Light wiggles. It wobbles. It rocks and rolls, glimmering and glittering its way out of the sandy nook where it has nestled until now. With a loud crackling, a jagged line streaks across the surface of the brightly-covered orb, and for a moment it seems as though a flash of light glows from the interior? But no, it was just a trick of the light. Just a normal crack!
Smoke-Wreathed Titan Hatchling shrugs off its shell carapace and bellows, as much as a hatchling can, that is. A mighty shake of its body follows and, soon enough, it's on the move. No time to waste! Especially not with all of those spiderclaws running amok!
Nefarin is watching his toes. He likes them attached and he doesn't remember wanting to ship them, so the pinchy couriers are watched closely whenever he can spare a moment and look…there…something came out of that egg there, "Got one already…" he warns the others around him.
Shimmers in the Shadows moves - perhaps. With the darkness of the hatching grounds and the darkness of the shell, it is hard to tell for certain, however it certainly seemed for a moment as if there was a flash from the iridescent bits on the shell. Then again, if there was, it is gone now.
Graysen is… well, distracted is an understatement, "Huh?" It's only when his friend speaks that he actually focuses back on the redheaded boy, "Oh. Yeah." It's obvious that he's just agreeing and doesn't really know what he's agreeing to. There are things happening, okay!
The hunt begins, though it seems Smoke-Wreathed Titan Hatchling has something else in mind for a time. Spiderclaws are pounced on and crushed, carcasses taken and flung wildly. Sand scatters and the beast continues along, distracted for a time. Or is it? Those rapid-whirling red eyes are visible through the gloom from time to time as it looks to the candidates.
Satisfyingly Simple Sedated and Serene Egg offers little fanfare for the final stage of their emergence. With no warning the swirls of color explode outwardly to dump a damp, creeling creature onto the sands.
It appears the spiderclaws must have gotten into an office: first an envelope-crab, now this? This one has a pen in its claws, drooling ink across sand and carapace alike.
| Risen out of the Ashes Hatchling |
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| Through all the smoke and darkness of the hatching grounds once simply can?t distinguish the color of this newly hatched hatchling. It?s of a smaller size with overly large wings, a long skinny snout and a short stubby tail. Whipping restlessly the tail throws up sand upon the small hatchling to further increase the difficulty of seeing that hide. Light catches just enough too see a brightly colored mottled form that surveys the sands with majestic grace. |
Br'aby gives a little squawk as a spiderclaw gets a little close to the hem of his…robe? Gown? Whatever it is, it has spiderclaws threatening it! He stumbles back a step or two, only to be saved by Reya, who he gives a grateful little smile and encouraging punch of his fist in the air. "That's right. You /tell/ 'em. Ack!" He finally has to stomp one as it ventures a little /too/ close. « Mine. You are being undignified. The babies are /watching/. » "Pretty sure they're busy hatching, actually."
A'she studies the hatchlings - or as much of them as he can see. "Did we remember to bring some healers out here? Trix, can you tell Suyi to bring a couple of healers with her? I feel like we might need them."
A Guiding Light spins and turns, its shell a mesmerizing optical illusion of shadow and light, only enhanced by the smoke and heat of the sands. One crack spreads into two. Then a web. And suddenly, its contents will not be contained any longer. With a burst of shattering shell, it spills its contents into the smoke-filled air, where the dragonet promptly seems to disappear.
| Ghoulish Trickster Hatchling |
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| Is that a dragon, looming out of the smoke? Or just a wisp of white against the dark background, a plume of smoke catching a ray of dim light in the corner of your eye? No. No, that is definitely the outline of a dragon, appearing as an eerie white glow barely visible through the smoke and glaring out at the candidates with whirling orange eyes. A breeze catches the smoke and sets it whirling, and the newly-hatched dragonet vanishes. Could this be the legendary white dragon? No. No, it couldn?t be. Probably. But for now, whatever color it /is/ must remain a mystery. |
Kelenarocatches Nefarin's call and yells acknoledgement. "Got two," he cries, voice almost going falsetto. "Heads up!"
A faint tapping comes from the direction of the Declare Your Intent Egg. A testing of boundaries with no great urgency to them yet. Tap tap. Tap tap. Then stillness, then quiet, then resting.
Nefarin is already feeling flushed and too warm for once, which probably has nothing to do with his nerves. Nah. "Now's not the time to space out, man…" he tells Gray, brown eyes flickering over what he can make of the hatchlings through the gloom. "Well, this is fun…" he laughs. A thumbsup is thrown Kel's way. Thanks mah dude.
Somewhere outside there is cackling laughter that assaults the minds of those in close proximity to one blue in particular. No doubt Trix has gotten the messsage to Zychaelth, and of course his rider. The dark locks of one of the AWLMs are seen before Suyi is disappearing again to retrieve bandages and heales!
Shimmers in the Shadows lingers in the darkness, biding its time, waiting. A resounding *crack* echoes from the general region of the Sands where it sits, yet there is still only blackness - for the inside is as dark as the shell.
Spiderclaws cease to be interesting in short order: not enough meat to be worth the trouble. The candidates, though… but no! That one! At long last, a choice is made. The Smoke-Wreathed Titan Hatchling surges through the haze and gloom, seeming to shift shapes rapidly as smoke sluices over still unseeable hide. But there he is, that slim, red-headed lad. Once a Weaver, but no more!
With a triumphant cry it seems that the Smoke-Wreathed Titan Hatchling has found its partner at last and impression is made!
| Seeker of Freedom Blue Hatchling |
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| A titan among blues is he, destined to be among the longest of his hue - if not the largest. There is something divinely inspired in his proportions, a sense of balance that carries itself from the tip of his perfectly-designed muzzle through the supple curve of neck and beyond. Everything about him speaks of a dragon that's been all but constructed - brought to life by some Master's hand. Blue-skewed cyan washes over him in his entirety, coating him in clear, pure color that carries with it the faintest kiss of something metallic or iridescent. It's that quality that coaxes other colors out, with tantalizing hints of celadon that skirt the shadows, or a glint of teal that flashes, fugitive, along the curve of his haunches. The color itself appears faintly mottled in places, washing thinner at the high points and deeper at the low - as if rendered almost completely in watercolors. Only his wings deviate slightly, with deeper cyan cleaving tight to wingspars - the 'sails themselves slant a little closer to green at the leading edge, only to wash out into blued-teals toward the trailing end. His tail signals a return to undiluted, blue-cyan roots, while claws of a blued-silver hue complete him. |
Life's Many Colors Egg rocks, tilting around on its base like a child's toy, leaning to and fro but somehow always managing to right itself in the end. With each quiver, the colors shift - green to blue, red to orange, a coruscant cascade of color shivering over the shell.
Risen out of the Ashes Hatchling emerges from the wreckage of their shattered egg. They have only one purpose in their mind. To create havoc. Stumbling past several unhatched eggs, the hatchling bumps the Life?s Many Color?s Egg. Oops! No one saw that, right? Staggering away from the egg an unhappy creel echoes across the hatching grounds eerily. Between flashes of light the ungainly hatchling can be seen stalking the candidates. Suddenly they pop up along side a younger boy from Monaco Weyr itself. This one is lacking so he gets roughly shoved to the ground and the hatchling is off once more! This time they lurch into a couple more candidates with an unhappy hiss when Graysen doesn?t move fast enough. One unsheathed claw swipes down the teen?s arm quick as a flash before the unhappy, creeling young dragon spins around. There! Right there! A young dark haired woman from Keroon suddenly finds herself knocked over with a happy, wiggling hatchling slurping her face.
Ghoulish Trickster Hatchling darts through the mist, a mere suggestion of a dragon. First here, then there, seeming almost to be teleporting around thanks to the almost strobe effect of the lights flashing on and off. Poor Kelenaro was right to call heads up. Suddenly, there are way too many teeth and claws barreling at him from the dark… only to vanish again, as quickly as it appeared. Did anyone catch the color of that hatchling?
With a triumphant cry the Risen out of the Ashes Hatchling has found its lifemate at last and its color become clear.
| Empress of all She Surveys Green Hatchling |
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| This young hatchling is absolutely dazzling in all shades of deep, brilliant greens. Predominately a bright emerald green, the color sweeps down her smaller body that seems almost too small to support those large wings. Along each wing a different shade of bright green sweeps across those thin wingsails towards her broad shoulders. Bare hints of paler green swirls within the emerald coloring down her neck and back to fade back to pure brilliant emerald that will continue all the way to the very tip of that short, stubby tail. With her bulk the promise is there that she?ll grow into those larger wings and long skinny snout perfectly but for now she?s a little lopsided in her proportions. |
After a few moments the Weyrlingmaster leads the new pair off the sands.
Shimmers in the Shadows is caught by a sudden flash of the lights - the shell ablaze as it seems to catch all the brightness at once, and in that instant, the dark crack on its surface widens, an oversized maw stretching wider and wider, until the shell falls away as the darkness returns, and a shadowy dragonet is left behind.
| Stalking the Darkness Hatchling |
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| Stout, wide… short? It is certainly difficult to make out any defining features of this dragonet other than it seems to be a solid shadow of.. Shadows. Even in a rare flash of light, there is merely gray as limbs and body parts seem to merely be a single mass, lacking definition. |
Where are the spiderclaws coming from?! And why does that one have a candidate robe in its claws? Where is the candidate? So many questions and, yet, no answers.
Stalking the Darkness Hatchling straightens in the remnants that were its shell, looking around with a rather surprised look on its face. Of course, with the smoke, the fog, there is nothing to see - and so this hatchling makes its move, darting into the shadows and away from the scene of the crime.
Reya pauses in her war upon the spiderclaws to glance back at Br'aby with a slightly crazed grin. This can only bode well. It seems that Fuerioth has given up entirely in this case. The weyrwoman spins the broom about in her hand, and while she is showing off manages to get pinched on the ankle. "Oy!"
A more urgent knocking comes from the Declare Your Intent Egg cracking the lavender shards that grasp around it and causing one side to bulge dangerously. The whole shell rocks for a moment, then stills, a faint note of something flaring and then dying in an instant - a cry from inside or another crack?
One intrepid weyrling dragon decides to try a hard-shelled snack. It goes as well as expected, with a cry of protest from one and a click-clack from the other. The pinchy-grabber is flung out to the sands where, hopefully, it doesn't hit a candidate.
Graysen squeeks when one of his toes gets pinched, kicking out against his attacker, "Ack!" No. Nononononono. No pinching! Wait… There's a small sound when one of the hatchlings comes close to where he is with Nefarin, eyes wide, "Fari-" It's an urgent whisper for his best friend. What just happened?
Nefarin literally stops breathing when he turns his head and his eyes meet that of the Titan blue, "Wha…" is exhaled somehow and all expression is washed from his features until his face breaks out into a wide and craggy grin, "You got it Tatakaeth…I'm your F're…" He'll toss a look at the other candidates, ala you got this, and he leads his new buddy off the sands.
Something shivers over the surface of the Omniscient Omphalos Egg. But is the egg actually moving? No - surely it must be a trick of the light and heat.
Update: the dragon-thrown spiderclaw definitely hit a candidate. The Healers intervene promptly.
Br'aby seems actually /affronted/ when Reya gets pinched. As though somehow the spiderclaw has personally offended him. "Hey! Now, you… you… /stop/ that!" he demands, shaking his finger at the spiderclaw. « Boots would be more effective, mine. » "Oh. Yes. Um." He hikes up his robe, approaches gingerly, and reaches out a toe to try to mash the spiderclaw that has pinched Reya.
A'she eyes the hatchling - the blue hatchling - as it Impresses and grunts softly. As Nefarin makes acquaintance of his new lifemate, the Weyrlingmaster stalks across the sands to the new Weyrling's side. "Well, boy," he rumbles, a slight smile splitting his beard, "congratulations. Let's go get your new friend fed."
A further update: the Weyrleader has secured some kind of cooking assembly outside with some kind of shelter against the storm. A bounty of lemon wedges and drawn butter is offered for anyone that brings in a bucket of spiderclaws.
Life's Many Colors Egg begins to wobble faster, shaking to and fro, colors falling across its surface like a technicolor waterfall: green-blue-red-orange-yellow-white-silver. As it continues to rock, the sound of stone being torn asunder echos outwards, as though ripped apart by some primal Force.
Declare Your Intent says the Egg. My intent is to live, says the creature inside! With an almighty heave the shell bulges outwards and then collapses entirely. As the smoke moves in obscuring everything a faint sound like the chime of a bell announces the arrival of a new hatchling.
| Demon in the Dark Hatchling |
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| What creature is this, emerged from the shell and instantly cloaked in a miasma of smoke? Its true form is nebulous, ever changing as the smoke drifts and billows around it, but the eyes. The eyes! Red and hungry, and fixed right… there. |
The sounds of cracking shells can be heard as Br'aby manages to mortally wound a spiderclaw. "That's the spirit!"
Somewhere along the walls of the cavern Suyi stands with the small hoard of healers, "Mmm..that one. Nono, there's only a little blood on that guy. He can handle it."
A ghost of something washes over Omniscient Omphalos Egg and, this time, it leaves a mark. The egg quivers and, suddenly, the illusion of wholeness is rendered moot. There are cracks now - but what will escape?
Kelenaro bites back a cry of pain as he gets a good stratching on his back and chest. But he's paying little heed to his injuries though the teeth and claws did draw some blood. Not enough to require instant treatment but he'll definately be needing numbweed later at least. Stitches at worst, but he holds on through the pain, too nervous and too concentrating on the here and now to register any kind of pain. Total adrenaline rush.
Through smoke and shadows a pair of eyes move along a slow, unsteady, path yet never wavering from their goal. That one. That one there. It moves towards a young girl, barely old enough to stand, and though she tries to back away Carolyn is trapped as soon as she looks into those eyes. "Therioth." The smoke parts enough that the red eyed glowing monster before her is revealed as quite the opposite. "You scared me." Seconds later she's gathering the tiny blue dragon with the hand-me-down wings into her arms. Maybe one day he'll be the great beast she saw in the smoke. Maybe not. That's for the future.
Stalking the Darkness Hatchling suddenly seems to appear out of nowhere, pushing through a pair of young women, causing each of them to rock and teeter. In the darkness, the shadow seems to hesitate - as if apologetically to the two girls, before it vanishes again into the foggy, stormy, spiderclaw infested darkness. Injuries for everyone!
Life's Many Colors Egg gives one last tortured shriek - a thousand voices crying out in chorus, rock grinding on rock or the first-born cry of its occupant, then splinters into shards, many colors sparking briefly in a flash of lightning before all hues fade to nothing, leaving behind nothing so much as a wisp of colorless mist soon hidden in the storm.
With a triumphant cry the Demon in the Dark Hatchling has found its lifemate at last and its color become clear.
| A Fool's Journey Blue Hatchling |
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| It is said that from humble beginnings great things may come, and this little blue hatchling appears to be following that rule. Everything about him is diminutive from his cute little upturned snout, to headknobs that barely count as bumps on his skull, to a tiny tail that surely must be a hindrance when it comes to balance. Even his feet appear miniscule compared to expectations, with teeny tiny nubs of talons that for now add a mere hint of ivory to his otherwise pure sky-blue form. And then there are his wings. Surely he inherited them from another dragon as they just Do Not Fit with the rest of him. They're huge and already tattered around the edges, mottled here and there with color more suggestive of mold than hide. Yet his they are, and it can only be hoped that he will grow into them. |
After a few moments the Weyrlingmaster leads the new pair off the sands.
| Hidden in the Mists Hatchling |
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| In the flickering light it is difficult to make out the color of this hatchling. The moment it pops out of its shell the creature stands on lanky limbs. It crouches low to the ground and its eyes swirl red as it takes in the group of candidates before it. Ungainly wings seem almost too large for this dragonet's form, and the sharp cut of wingspars is almost eerie. Sand falls slowly off dangerously sharp claws and the remnants of shell dripping off of the dragonet seem almost akin to blood. But surely that isn't it? Surely the dark liquid smeared across its mouth and painted on each claw is something benign right? |
A startled yelp lets people know that Logain is still there. Shading spiderclaws! With a sudden display of aggresion he yanks the offending crustation off of his heel and hurls it as hard as he can onto the burning sand! Muijan merely laughs at his childhood friend, before performing nearly the same manuver. Though if it's merely teasing or actually genuine is anybody's guess.
Ghoulish Trickster Hatchling appears again, a wispy fog-like outline in the dark. Once again, it barrels out of the dark, this time with a warlike creel as it charges at a poor young woman from a remote hold, knocking her back into a pile of spiderclaws before it goes skittering off into the dark again with a haunting shriek.
Hidden in the Mists Hatchling sprawls amidst the rubble of their former home, looking just a bit dazed as the lightning flashes above them, blinding their newborn eyes. With a loud squall that sounds like a cross between a howl and a yelp, they dart away from the shattered shards of shell laying heaped upon the Sands, dashing to tuck themselves behind Fuerioth's haunch. Nervously, they peek out from behind their dam, wide eyes reflecting the crackling electricity streaking the sky above. As the great gold rumbles encouragingly for her child to go out and terrorize explore, they cautiously creep forward, stalking across the Sands towards the scattered white-clad Candidates.
Graysen looks completely lost, and somehow extremely smug at the same time, when Nefarin— no, F're— and the blue are led away. Unfortunately, this leaves the tanner candidate alone. Which leads to him being distracted. Which leads to him not getting out of the way fast enough. He hisses in pain when the hatchling's claw rakes over his arm, quickly clamping his other hand over the wound and looking slightly dazed. Well… That happened. At least F- F're can't fuss at him about picking scars, this time.
Some firelizards swirl around the entrance of the sands to assist in spiderclaw collection. In the commotion, several smaller spiderclaws are dropped from on high, raining claws and carapaces on the candidates below.
At long last, the trapped vapors within Omniscient Omphalos Egg are allowed freedom, but that freedom comes with a cost. The egg is shattered, its temple in ruins, and an ephemeral haze rises from the wreckage.
| Smoke Screens and Screams Hatchling |
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| A smoke-wrought scrim veils a nightmare that moves with dire purpose. Though it is small, it is a dire creation and hewn of shades of grey and white that catch the light in upsetting ways. The color alone lends it a shifting appearance, with light scattering bands of brightness that never quite catch on color. It blends into its surroundings with upsetting ease and the only thing that betrays it is the occasional scream. |
Ghoulish Trickster Hatchling is suddenly just… /there/. Pouncing out of the dark, this time at Graysen. The poor candidate is knocked on his rear end as the dragon pounces, but just as the healers are jumping to intervene on the poor boy's behalf, the dragonet gives a possessive and mighty ROAR at the dargonet that has dared harm this one! (Okay. It's a hungry creel, but it's the thought that counts?)
With a triumphant cry it seems that the Ghoulish Trickster Hatchling has found its partner at last and impression is made!
| Carry On My Wayward Bronze Hatchling |
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| This will never be the largest bronze around, but his very presence more than makes up for that. Dense musculature packs onto a stocky frame, hinting at a strength to rival even the largest of bronzes. And when he moves? It is nothing so mundane as a mere walk. No, this bronze /struts/, head held high with a cocky confidence and a gleam in his constantly whirling eyes that hints at both intelligence and a keen sense of humor. Carath?s base color is a deep rusty bronze that melts dark over his chest, back, and rear legs, while a jacket of whiskey gold swirls up his neck and ripples like fading sunbeams across wing sails, ultimately ending in a characteristic asymmetric curl just over his left eye. |
Reya shoots another glance back at Br'aby, "Do you think we can sell these? Xanadu needs more seafood, right?" She bats at another offending interloper before sporting a rather satisfied grin.
Wait. Does that spiderclaw have tongs? Is that a lemon wedge in its other claw? Where did they come from?!
A'she's thumbs are tucked into the belt at his slim waist as he watches the goings on with a faint smile. Is he enjoying the memories of his own hatching? Is he enjoying the spiderclaw-driven chaos? Is he enjoying all the Candidates getting maimed? Probably a little bit of everything. As he catches sight of the bronze pouncing upon Graysen, he pauses just to make certain it's not yet another mauling, then approaches, his expression thoughtful. "Good work there, lad. Come along now, you and your friend. You'll be okay." Probably. He doesn'
doesn't promise.
Is that an avian amongst the dragons? Is that a faint squawk? Did it sound like 'mine' to anyone else?
Graysen suddenly finds himself knocked down, eyes wide as he stares up at the… bronze, "I-" Gulp, "W-what?" He shakes his head, still clutching at his wounded arm, "C-Carath?" What? "What do you m-mean S'ry?" SO MANY QUESTIONS! But… his mouth hangs open and he finally pushes himself up to his knees, grinning, and throws his arms around the hatchling, "Of course!" He looks up at A'she and nods numbly, keeping one hand on Carath as he rises and follows, dripping blood down onto his new lifemate. Woops.
It doesn't take long: Smoke Screens and Screams Hatchling lifts its voice in a shrill shriek that echoes, followed by another, then another, while it swiftly darts through the smoke and acrid haze. But the hue of its hide isn't revealed until it crashes into a young woman, its head butting hard into her chest as if trying to get in. "Xenoqoth! Stop! I don't have food in me!" Priley laughs and hugs her lifemate, a flash of light cutting through to highlight the dragon's color.
With a triumphant cry the Smoke Screens and Screams Hatchling has found its lifemate at last and its color become clear.
| Euphemistically Euphoric Green Hatchling |
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| Delicate and diminutive, this debaucherous little green is framed almost entirely in hues that are intangible and indescribable. Soft, sweet shades of eucalyptus blend with mint and something mysterious, wafting over a frame that's fragile and finely wrought. Yet, despite her apparent delicacy, she moves with an easy sway, sending those pearlescent colors to shiver and dance like a gown hewn entirely of frosted green opal. Her wings are pale, pale things, like so much smoke and vapor. The rest of her is draped in an intoxicating mist that spirals around her tail in a dizzying whorl until all that's left is just a dream of delight. |
After a few moments the Weyrlingmaster leads the new pair off the sands.
When Br'aby decided to squish that spiderclaw with his foot, he must have forgotten he was wearing sandals. Rather than getting squished, it winds up clamping down on his toe, sending him hopping around the platform. He finally manages to kick it off, and it goes sailing off the platform into the general chaos below. "Mm?" He suddenly realizes Reya has been talking to him. "I think they're a bit… nippy to eat." A beat. "Oh, you mean /cook/ them first."
Shouting from outside the cavern can be heard after a few moments. "Back! Back! Get back in the pot!" Metal can be heard clanging against a shell as I'aija does battle against something outside. After a moment, he pokes his head into the caverns to call, "Has anyone seen my tongs?"
Stalking the Darkness Hatchling emerges suddenly from the darkness, just as the lights flicker on for a moment, and is only steps away from the white-clad candidates. There is no near miss this time - after all, it seems one of their siblings drew first blood. Instead there is a full on collision as this shadow has mass - mass that hits the tall, pale, blonde candidate in front of it, practically knocking him over.. That?s how you protect him from the others, right?
With a triumphant cry it seems that the Stalking the Darkness Hatchling has found its partner at last and impression is made!
| Protector of the Shadows Brown Hatchling |
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| At first glance, shadowy umber dances upon every inch of this brown?s hide, the dark hues gathering in deep pools upon his wide frame, leaving no hint of brightness, no touch of light - however, further inspection reveals that his form is not nearly as uniform as it appears. While umber does lay claim to his thick body - curling around solid shoulders and broad haunches - it is taupe that creeps along the vastness that is his belly, the darker hue never vanished by Rukbat?s rays, as it gathers on stocky limbs, anchored by talons of perfect ebony. It is not all darkness, however, for sepia brightens his form - if only slightly - starting at the end of his nearly too-short tail before being carried upwards along the ridges of his back, hinting at a distance sunrise beyond the mountains - before the warmer hue is gaining a foothold along his massive neck and crossing stocky headknobs and defined eyeridges. His broad muzzle is dipped in the warm, bright, red-brown hues of mahogany, the dawn of a new day coming to chase away the shadows. While dawn?s mahogany light may tickle his nostrils, the expanses of his wings remain cloaked in dark, rich walnut hues, only the spars - burnished in brighter sand - giving definition to the short, broad sails that stretch between the bone-like fingers, cloaking him in gloomy shades of brown. |
Hidden in the Mists Hatchling stumbles slightly as the sticky-wet sand sucks at their great paws and they growl, teeth flashing in the low light as they snap irritably at the ground beneath them. With a high-pitched yip, they skirt around a particularly boggy part of sand, veering towards a group of white-robed Candidates watching everything around them with fearful awe. As the hatchling approaches, one Candidate reaches out towards it, only to draw back with a startled yelp as the hatchling snaps aggressively at them. No touchee! Only lookee. Not that there's much to see - between the hatchling's naturally dark hide and the gloom of storm and lack of lighting, this hatchling is only an apparition in the night as it prowls, hunting something through the storm.
"50 points!" Reya whistles with delight as a spiderclaw flys through the air. Her gaze shifts to the swarming mass where two spiderclaws are engaged in a battle. "I think I see some tongs!" Wait no, maybe that was just some lightning. "False alarm! How's the toe? How's the outfit?" She has priorities.
Thankfully for the Weyr's sanity and unluckily for the Weyrleader, Wendyn has apparently finally found someone to watch Iawyn - because the Weyrwoman is stalking down from her spot in the galleries, headed in the direction of Isa's voice - looking rather unamused at the interruption from the hatching. Seriously, bronzeriders. Can't live with them, probably can't live without them.
Suyi slides over towards A'she and offers him a flash that she has /deeeefinitely/ been not so secretly sipping from, "Sooo….you've always wanted to make sea creature alcohol, right?"
*flask
Kelenaroalmost does go over backwards, wincing a bit as claws inadvertantly cut into his chest again, oozing blood to join the rest of the bleeding wounds. "K'nar? I like that very much indeed." And there are tears on his face, tears of joy and not of pain…he doesn't know how badly he's cut up yet. "And I love you. We shall always be togeter, Rashtivoth, I promise!"
A'she takes the flask from Suyi and takes a pull, offering it back with a grin. "Oh, absolutely, if I'aija saves me any." He absently kicks at a spiderclaw, sending it skidding into the middle of a cluster of Candidates. A high pitched shriek warns him that the spiderclaw probably caught itself mid-air on something it probably didn't want to. Well, that young man will be fine, he's sure. Eventually. No promises for his future progeny, however. "A fine… uh… brown, I think," remarks the Weyrlingmaster as he waits for Kelenaro to collect himself.
Br'aby takes a moment to inspect his hemline, squinting in the dark to get a better look. "Everything seems intact so far," he declares, with some relief, and then makes a little strangled noise as another wave of spiderclaws storms the platform. "Reya! Broom!"
"… where are they coming from." I'aija catches sight of an impending Wendyn and promptly ducks back outside, where he'll feign complete and utter innocence. Nothing to see here! Just a man turning this disaster into a feast! Really! (please don't kill him; Elsvruth gets first dibs)
Suyi shouldn't be laughing quite so hard at the poor candidate and his now injured baby making parts. But she is. She's rpactically doubled over in laughter and it takes everything she has to avoid spilling the flask. "That was an accident, right?"
A'she gives a slow smile to his assistant as he returns from escorting K'nar and his lifemate from the Sands. "Of course." What do you think? Wait - don't answer that. At least, not where anyone can witness.
He'ld never admit it, not in a thousand turns, but Logain is glad he doesn't stand alone. With all the crawling, pinching, and apparently flying spiderclaws, and hatchlings running around in the dark, the former hunter is feeling just a little taken by the moment. And then Muijan suddenly lets out a rather unmanly shout of pain. Yep, he's definitely been hit… Let's hope he's not too badly… injured.
"Broom incoming!" Reya promptly twirls and hands lightly tosses the broom over to Bra'by. It's a neat little maneuver and certainly /looks/ well choreographed. Really, someone should be taking a picture. Between her wild expression, the airborne broom, and Br'aby's wonderful attire this is truly a masterpiece to behold.
Hidden in the Mists Hatchling is growing more and more irritated by the moment, as evinced by the constant, low-grade yipping that seems to be their way of letting everyone around them know just how unhappy they are with this blasted storm. As they trot by another group of Candidates, they abruptly whirl about and leap at one, teeth snapping inches from his startled face. As he lets out a scream and scrambles back, the hatchling lands nimbly on all four feet, fluttering wings at the group before trotting off again, head and tail held high with sudden pleasure. In passing yet another Candidate, it pauses as if to repeat the trick - then stops, tail flagging up, wings cupping the air. Abruptly, it whirls and dashes, voice rising in a delighted howl as it leaps upon a blond-haired, green-eyed young man, slamming head-first into his chest.
With a triumphant cry it seems that the Hidden in the Mists Hatchling has found its partner at last and impression is made!
| At War With Herself Green Hatchling |
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| Shadows dance across the hide of this dragon, creating dozens of thick strokes that wrap her frame from tail to toe. The pine-dark hues dance and meld together to form patterns that appear to shift with even the slightest movement, concealing all but hints of moss and juniper which peek out from behind. Twining across great paws, vines of forest green crawl upwards before finally disappearing into the mural of her hide. At first glance it is difficult to account for how much muscle this dragon has underneath that ever-shifting surface, but upon closer inspection it becomes clear that this creature was built to be an apex predator. While here lean muscles may lack in force, each well-defined limb and streamlined feature speaks of speed and agility. While her coloring may camouflage her athletic ability, one look in this dragon's narrow set eyes make it evident that she is a keen hunter. The large orbs are darker than those of most dragons, and even when they spark with color the swirls seem almost ominous. Shrouded and shaded, only a hint of brightness mars her perfect camouflage; her headknobs. - olive draped and pointed, they are wider than most and look almost akin to canine-ears. |
Suyi tries to come up with some witty comeback, but the words die on her lips as she dissolves into laughter once more. She at least gathers herself enough to spy the last hatchling find a mate…though she has no idea /who/ it is in all of this chaos.
Reya's maneuver would have been /so/ impressive if Br'aby were at all adept at catching things. He was probably intending for /her/ to attack the spiderclaws, but when the broom comes flying, he fumbles to try to catch it. It clatters loudly to the platform, and Br'aby falls to his knees to catch it and start swatting ineffectively at spiderclaws. "Ack!" « For goodness… /Here/. » With a swipe of his tail, Yevith sweeps away the invading spiderclaws, saving Br'aby from a rather undignified loss.
"Oh sh—sorry!" Reya should proooobably have seen that coming. If only she would pause for two seconds and think. But she didn't! There's a big grin at Yevith's more effectiv intervention before she's scuttling over to Br'aby's side. "How are you? How are the clothes?"
The tide of crustaceans finally seems to ebb and the creatures begin a retreat as the situation is too hot to handle. The one with the envelope no longer has it and no one knows if it was delivered.
Logain gasps and looks around wildly as his surroundings abruptly shift before his eyes. "What-?" he barely breathes out a quiet exclamation before he is suddenly aware of another presence speaking to him. No, no, not to him—in his very mind! He can't help it; his jaw falls open as he tries and fails to form words. When the sands return, it has the affect of a cold shower (wonder why?), somewhat drawing him back to reality. "Huh? H-hey, were ya goin'?" he mutters, realizing that the most incredible thing that ever happend to him is about to walk off without him. "W-woah. Kioyeth, wait up!" he calls after her, trotting to catch up.
There should probably be a big speech now that the hatching is over and the final dragon has found a lifemate. Usually there is. But this time…well, Reya appears to be busy. "UH, THANK YOU! Everyone." Another sweep of the broom dumps a few more spiderclaws into a bucket, "If you haven't found a lifemate today please take a few spiderclaws and we hope that you'll find yours next time." Another sweep of the broom. "Uh…Br'aby, anything else?" This, it seems, is the end of the hatching.
A'she trots after Logain, bemused, and begins to herd his new charges into the barracks. "Alright, let's get them fed and cleaned and divested of any straggling spiderclaws." Oh, right. "And don't let them eat the spiderclaws yet - they need a day before they can really crack the shells good."
Br'aby may have managed to get the hem of his robe over his head during his latest battle with the spiderclaws. With a mighty struggle, he manages to get himself righted, and pops to his feet, just in time to realize that Reya has just called attention to him. "Um." Pause. "Ah." Another beat. "Yes. Congratulations to… everyone!" He waves vaguely, then freezes. "Um. Except those of you who got injured, of course. The healers will attend to you shortly. Yevith wishes everyone to know that he is terribly proud. And— OW!" He kicks a spiderclaw with a vengeance, then sends a pained look at Reya. "Let's all get to higher ground?" With that excuse for a speech, he flees, robe fluttering behind him, to escape the Great Spiderclaw Invasion.
In other news, the hatching feast is handled! Spiderclaw claw-crackers provided at the exit! (and if anyone finds I'aija's tongs, he'd really appreciate it, thanks)