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Author Topic: Closed Event Woken in the Middle of the Night [ 29.6.2589; 12 AM ] || Kalestath's Hatching  (Read 2903 times)

Offline NPC Account

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S’bok. Neisoth’s voice was a peculiarly thrumming croon as it broke through the Weyrleader’s haze of sleep. It vibrated along every bone in his body, waking him strangely in the warm bed he shared with Halirina in the Clutch Weyr. Ever since the Gold dragon had actually laid her clutch, the two of them had moved to the land-accessible weyr for ease of access. But now, trapped beneath so many feet of stone, S’bok felt his heart skip at that vibration. Were they having an earthquake? Such things had not been uncommon even in Fort, as the unstable fault lines under ancient volcanic earth occasionally rumbled their discontent at the state of things on Pern.

Reflexively, he reached out to touch Halirina’s hand. He blushed in the darkness to realize that he had, unsure just what such a thing implied about his relationship with the Weyrwoman. But now was not the time for such musings, and S’bok forced his embarrassment down—and kept his hand where it was. In the darkness, he thought of rock grating down to crush them all. //Neisoth? Are we--?//

It’s not an earthquake. Listen. Still that thrumming croon.

S’bok did as his dragon bid him. In the darkness, he could hear Halirina’s breathing next to him—felt the warm presence of her body in the bedfurs as she shifted. The shielded and dying glows were barely enough to allow S’bok to see past the end of his nose, but they still made Halirina’s eyes glitter weirdly in the darkness. So it had woken her too.

And there it was again. Like the entire weyr had taken a breath to begin to purr again. Purr? Or thrum? Or grumble? The noise seemed all around him, echoed out loud as well as in his mind. And some instinct made his head turn toward the doorway where the clutch weyr opened onto the Hatching Sands.

The Sands! S’bok had heard this thrumming before, but its significance had never been quite what it was now. This was his clutch—his and Neisoth’s. And the Black dragon had joined his Queen in thrumming the call that would summon Candidates and Riders alike to the Hatching Sands.

The new dragonets were going to emerge from their eggs soon. S’bok knew this just as Neisoth did, an impression of growing wakefulness that had been transferred from eggs to Queen, from Queen to the Sire of her clutch.

Perhaps it was not so untoward that his hand had sought Halirina’s in the dark. S’bok squeezed it once, gently, and then hesitated as he glanced at her again.

Should they get up? Certainly the rest of the weyr would be waking up soon, but didn’t most Hatchings last a day or more? It was entirely possible that none of the eggs would actually crack until well into the morning. //What time is it?//

About midnight, came the rumbling answer from the Sands just beyond. Kalestath tells me that some of the dragonets are more eager to meet the world than others. You should get up and put on some clothes.

Obedient for once, the Weyrleader slid out of bed and moved to unshield the glows that still retained some of their luminescence. He was certain, behind him, that he could hear Halirina shifting to likewise place her feet on the stone floor and rise to dress. The Riders and Candidates would be here soon.


Spoiler for OOC:
The time you’ve all been waiting for is finally here! As the Queen starts to hum to announce the impending Hatching of her newest clutch, the rest of the dragons in the weyr will take up the thrum too—and so, too, might some of the flits and even the whers. This will steadily wake up pretty much everyone in the weyr, as the sound is both physical as well as mental, and will reverberate throughout the entirety of Southern Winds.

Everyone is welcome to post here, as the Hatchings are usually well-attended by those in the weyr—the Candidates and their families of course, as well as the Dragon Riders and those living at Southern Winds who don’t mind getting up at midnight just to watch some dragons pop out of their shells.

Candidates will be waking up in their beds in the Weyr Hall—unless they’re currently occupying someone else’s bed. >:3 Either way, they need to make their way down to the Hatching Sands. As it is accessible from the ground and the tunnels in the weyr, they don’t need to hitch a ride dragonback in order to get there. They will be expected to find O’sir as they arrive, and show up dressed in their white Candidate robes. They should be absent other items, and flits are asked to stay off the Sands until the Hatching has ceased. They may rejoin their Candidates after they have Impressed, or once the Hatching is over and they are left Standing.

Once your Candidate has Impressed (if they do), please move them and their new dragonet to the Hatchling Feeding thread, which will be up once the first dragon has hatched. There, they will be helped by the Weyrlingmaster and his assistants, as they feed their new dragon and oil their itchy hide for the first time.

Once a dragonet has Impressed, their information will be listed in the Clutch Thread. Their profile will also be posted in the thread where your Candidate application was originally posted.

You may also check in with your characters at the OOC thread if you will not have time to do an IC post for the event. Candidates are encouraged to post here IC, but not required. So long as your Candidate checked into the Egg Touching prior to the opening of this thread, they still have a chance to Impress on this clutch.

As the Hatching progresses and eggs hatch, they will be referenced per the number attached to them in the image above. But note, the clutch doesn't actually have numbers IC. They will also be referenced with the name that the Riders have given to them, if they have one at the time they hatch.

1 - Minath [ Goldie ] / Nalata  11 - Brown 004 / NPC     21 - Green 004 [ Sandy ] / NPC   
2 - Brown 001 / NPC    12 - Blue 002 [ Sunset ] / NPC    22 - Green 005 / NPC   
3 - Brown 006 / NPC    13 - Blue 004 / NPC    23 - Green 002 / NPC   
4 - Bronze 001 [ Brown Wher ] / NPC   14 - Black 001 [ Claws ] / NPC    24 - Brown 005 / NPC   
5 - Blue 001 [ Mud ] / NPC  15 - Rakanth [ Shallows ] / F'lan25 - Blue 005 / NPC   
6 - Lesserath [ Saibrasoth's Egg ] / J'hal     16 - Green 001 [ Swirly ] / NPC  26 - Green 003 / NPC   
7 - Carezth / Shenzani    17 - Brown 003 / NPC    27 - Parath / Razilia   
8 - Vesith [ Sunburned ] / Carayia    18 - Bravosith / Briallen    28 - Queriluth [ Moss ] / A'lori   
9 - Brizth / J'ol    19 - Esaeth [ Bland Egg ] / Svenia    29 - Akoth [ Amethyst ] / B'gos   
10 - Corvath [ Mold ] / M'lan     20 - Bronze 002 / NPC    30 - Red 001 [ Sunrise ] / NPC     
« Last Edit: September 14, 2018, 01:41:39 AM by NPC Account »
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Offline Shenzani

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Shenzani woke slowly, turning over in bed with a grumble for whatever it was that was waking her to shut up. It didn't. Growling, she grabbed a corner of the furs and pulled it up over her ears, pushing her head further down into the pillow, as if that would help. But it was less of a sound and more of a vibration, thrumming through the Weyr and her bed and her pillow. Shardit.

It was Banzai nipping her fingers that woke her properly.

"Ow!" she exclaimed, voice cracking as she batted the flitter away with the injured fingers. Up! Up! Hatching! the flit all but shouted into her mind. Now he was making that awful noise as well. She could feel the other side of the pillow vibrating too from where Ed was curled up. She blinked an eye open at the blue. The blue's head was up and erect, as if listening intently. Huh, that was unusual. Nothing but...

Hatching!

"Hatching!"

The words finally sunk in and Shenzani was up like a shot, bed furs tangled around her arms. She sent them flying across the room, where they ended up hung off of the end of some other girl's bed frame. She frantically ripped open the chest, digging through it until she found her candidate robe, and throwing it over her head. She almost made a dash for the exit there and then, but circled back to grab her sandals from under the bed, hopping across the room as she pulled them onto her feet. One last check - yes, she was wearing underpants! - and she dashed off, flits in tow.

She skidded to a halt outside the Hatching sands, breathing a little laboured. She rested her hands on her knees for a few seconds, catching her breath, before straightening. It wouldn't do to look like a fool now, what would Kalestath think of her? Quickly she sought out O'sir. Where was the grumpy old Candidatemaster when you needed him?

You two, go find somewhere to hide, she instructed her two fire lizards, who until then had been circling her. On second thoughts, O'sir would probably ask her to send them away anyway. She trusted the two not to cause trouble, but she knew Kalestath and the Candidatemaster wouldn't.
« Last Edit: March 10, 2014, 04:53:19 PM by Shenzani »

Offline Iseult

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Iseult was stirred slowly from her sleep by the humming.  She clung to the sweet darkness and the dream that she’d been having, but even as she tried the memory of whatever it was that enticed her so was already fleeting from her memory.  She scrunched her eyes against the sound, mind slowly registering that something had stirred her and that it was persisting.

Then her eyes snapped open.  An earthquake?!

With alarm she sat upright, half ready to leap out of bed and run for the nearest dragon, and then she realized that the volcanic ground wasn’t erupting.  Yes, the stones were vibrating around her, but it was different than the deep earthly rumble that came from shifting sound.  She still remembered the earthquakes from Fort.

Then it clicked.  Ah – the hatching.

The moment the realization hit fatigue washed over her again.  What time was it?  It figured that the clutch sired by a mutant would decide to hatch at some ungodly hour.  She reached to uncover her small basket of glows, wrinkling her nose as the worms as they moved slowly.  The light cast errie shadows around her bed and she slowly swung her feet off her bedfurs.

She didn’t make any rush.  The hatchlings weren’t just going to flood across the sands in one giant wave.  She’d stood at enough hatchings to know how long most of them lasted.  She fussed with her hair first, not much really, just enough so it looked brushed and then stripped down and changed into the candidate robes.  She wasn’t one to fuss obsessively over her appearance normally.  Arianr generally made her clothes, and the girl knew what she was doing, she’d give her that.  It generally left Iseult with little to worry.  But the candidate robes were unfortunately hand-me-downs, as everything in candidacy seemed to be.

She yawned widely, covering her mouth with the back of her hand as she slipped the ill-protecting sandals onto her feet.  She never understood why they had to wear such ridiculous outfits.  Really they ought to have been fine wearing whatever they wanted, but… regulations were regulations and if it was the only way she was getting on the sand so be it. 

She tried to ignore the rush around her, muttering irritably under her breath, but she was in a relatively good mood.  At least she was until a sharding flying object nearly blindsided her in the fact.  Fortunately it missed her and struck someone else’s bed nearby instead, but casting her gaze around her eyes fell on Shenzani.  The wanna-be gold candidate.

She shot the girl a venomous glare, jerking her candidate robe into place as she shook out what light wrinkles still remained.  Acting all high and mighty, throwing her bedfurs around as though it were important she arrived first.  Well, ha!  There was only one dragon Shenzani was standing for, and Iseult highly doubted the gold would so much as look in her direction.  Not any gold worth its salt at any rate.

As it was, something about seeing the gold candidate rush off in a state finally got Iseult moving.  She finished getting ready and then headed out, even partially sprinting after her though that didn’t last long.  When she reached the hatching sands she was walking and most certainly not among the first to arrive, but she wasn’t the last either.  She looked around habitually for the candidate master to give him her greeting.
Bring it on - and expect repayment in kind.

Offline Arianr

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Arianr had been resting fitfully and so when the humming began she had full time to lay and listen to it build, trying to figure out its direct source.  While there was a definite vibration it wasn’t violently shaking the Weyr from side to side, and so she merely listened to it – eyes open and forehead scrunched as she tried to work out what it was.  It was only when she began to hear the rest of the Weyr waking, the chatter outside her room bringing her to her feet to peek out into the hall, that she realized what was going on.

The hatching had begun.  The dragonets were coming.

She turned back toward her room, moving to slowly wake her father before she collected some clothes and headed behind the changing curtain.

It was still hot and so she choose something a little more festive, the sleeves open to expose her arms and shoulders and the neck lowered to reveal her collarbone, wrapping around below her shoulders.  She’d stitched in a few festively dyed strings to the front that she could tie around the back of her neck for extra support.  It was one of her masterpieces, in her opinion.  It was colorful in dark jewel tones yet all of the fabric had been collected from the scrapped bunch.  It was amazing how many workable pieces weavers tossed aside, even with the current shortage.

She pulled on some trousers that half matched, trying not to groan as she saw a seam in need of tending, and she finished getting dressed.

Her father had only managed to sit up in bed by the time she came back around the changing curtain.  She gave a sigh, tying her hair up with a cord as she moved to kick the one foot he’d gotten about of bed.  “Wake up old man,” She teased.  “We’re going to be late.  We’re supposed to support Iseult.”  And she had a few candidates that she knew personally who she wanted to stand and support.

Once the hold and Weyr separated, she wouldn’t have many opportunities to do this anymore.

She headed off to work on her hair while her father took his turn getting dressed.  She worked a few of pieces that curled loss, fussing way too long over the different pieces while she waited for her father to change.  She wove a few loose ribbons she had lying around through her hair and was finally losing patience enough to threaten to go and change him herself if he didn’t hurry when he finally popped back out from behind the screen.

It looked like he’d transformed.  She grinned at him, “Finally ready?”

He nodded the affirmative, tugging at his healer clothes.  He’d be on call for the duty, leaving her to sit in the stands on her own.  Still together they headed out, chatting lightly till they split ways at the sands.  Arianr then moved around the edge of the stands till she reached the stone steps and climbed them to the seats carved for the spectators.  A quick look around indicated not many had arrived yet and so she selected herself a seat with a good view, sitting down as she looked over the sands.  The candidates were arranging themselves already and she tried to sort through them to find the people she knew.  Iseult was easy enough to find, she always was, and Arianr caught sight of a few others.
Bring it On - I can take anything!

Offline Razilia

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A flit on her face Raz had no issues sleeping through, a flit suddenly deciding to jolt awake and start thrumming before making a comical squeak at having a bedfur land on her. Now that was a different matter; as Raz flailed for a heart skipping second, sending her poor flit rolling away as she went from on her back to on her feet. Luckily for her dignity no one else seemed wakeful as she scrambled for her Candidate robes. As well as her pants. Meep meanwhile; by no means terribly rattled chirpgiggled as Raz got the message Hatchy Hatchy! fun fun!. Which made the girl laugh off her almost thought that the thrumming was from an earthquake "lil late in the night for a Hatching en't it?".

Meep slightly wingshrugged in reply before flicking Raz's mind once more Meep stay?. Which got a nod from Raz "yes, Meep stay; I'll call you to me once things are settled down". As Raz had turned to follow the others who had woken before her; clothed in the proper attire and wearing her sandals. Though she gave the likes of Iseult a wide margin of space. Not precisely out of respect either; its rather hard to miss the arrow pierce glare when you look her way and just happen to be able to stand for a Queen egg. Least to Razilia's mind; but she tried to clear her mind of such distasteful thoughts. Already remembering the old lessons about positive thinking from her previous times Standing.

Thus would she look blissfully at peace instead of seeming terribly worried as she waited for O'sir to show up and lead them in properly. Raz herself was just glad Meep and a flying bed fur had been the only thing that had awoken her. Rather than fearful thoughts of the thrumming being an earthshake. As she thought about the flit a tiny flick of love touched her mind from the place she'd slept; making her face soften into a gentle smile. So she sent a return thought of love back to the little girl, even if she was left Standing once more she could be happy waiting till another Hatching to Impress; especially with the unbiased love she got from Meep. Though she did giggle a little at her flit's name; a suggestion of her five siblings when she told them what noise it had made upon hatching. Now all that seemed left to do was ruminate on the past while awaiting the Candidatemaster to lead them in properly. Though, he was possibly going to give a short list of warnings and suggestions before they went in for all Raz knew.

Offline Halirina

It was almost like a dream. The gentle prodding of Kalestath, an all too familiar ache in the back of her mind, and the soft vibrations of a Queen who knew her babies were about to hatch. But Halirina didn’t get up. Not yet. She stared up at the dark ceiling until Neisoth took up the same hum. Until S’bok woke and touched her.

Time to get up. To move. To introduce and usher new baby dragons into Pern. Halirina used to dread this day. Used to fear the day the shell was broken and the world might swallow up more hatchlings. That thread might destroy more people.

That wasn’t the case for his clutch, or the two previous. But there was still a sense of unease that had become second nature to hatchings. Maybe it was the fact the Clutch Father was a giant Black beast. Or maybe Halirina simply couldn’t shake the fear ingrained in such an event from the Pass. Either way, she sat up and started to dress. She quickly combed her hair as more of the weyr began to shake.

Quickly. Some of the eggs will hatch soon, the Gold prodded, just as anxious as her Rider.

That was new. Halirina actually found herself looking at S’bok and frowning. “She says soon…” What could that mean? Kalestath did not frequently comment on the time her babies would emerge, but something about that thought alerted Halirina. This wouldn’t be a normal clutch. But even for Neisoth’s hatching, she’d not been so foreboding.

She arrived as others were casting up glows. The eggs rocked and shifted on the sands. Kalestath, on the far side, had stood. Claiming more space than usual with her wings partially flared. Daring, for the moment, for anyone to dare step close to her eggs. They weren’t ready to be infiltrated by Candidates and even so, she would hiss and growl to keep them away. A dragonet must hatch on their own. To see the Gold so mobile this late made Halirina jittery. She was the only one that dare approach her shimmering Dragon and the gold egg that was closest. //You said they’d hatch soon?//

Not everyone had even arrived! Hatchings usually took most of the day, or most of the night. To have eggs so ready to burst all ready?

Halirina was stunned into momentary paralysis when three eggs made the distinctive cracking of hatching. They were hatching! The stands weren’t even filled! Candidates weren’t even on the sands. No. No. No. It was all she could think over and over before turning on her Gold dragon. “Kalestath?!” Her worst fear, that the babies would skip Between before anyone could be presented, was translated to the Gold who rumbled and actually moved amongst her eggs. With a practiced nose and agility born of turns upon turns of Motherhood, Kalestath shifted the eggs so that the three active were set apart from the other eggs and so the dragonets would not destroy their unhatched siblings.

What burst out of all three eggs, at the same time, was beyond words. Halirina stood, rooted, as Kalestath looked over the wet, writhing forms of three baby dragonets. Three RED dragonets. Unmistakably colored in a way no one had ever before witnessed. It was like Neisoth’s hatching all over again except these little bodies burst forth with chirping excitement. Fumbling over one another, trilling to Kalestath, shooting everyone impressions of happiness, excitement, and energy. It was shocking to be hit with the untrained, unrestricted thoughts of another dragon. But three?! In one go? It nearly knocked Halirina off her feet, but she managed to strangle out a command, “Get the Candidates on the Sands. NOW! Before they go Between!

Kalestath, for all the fuss, for the frantic nature of her Weyrwoman, tried to remain calm and thrummed her love down at the three wildly colored Red dragonets. She tried to contain them with gentle commands, but they were so excited! So ready! So mobile, with wings wet from the innards of their shells. Tumbling over one another in antics much like flits, and chittering their joy at being free. No one was spared their amplified emotions.

Spoiler for Eggs that hatched:
008, 029, & 030 - All Reds.

Length: 42M || Height: 9M || Wingspan: 71M

Offline B'gos

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Belgos jumped up when he felt the rumble, other people were stirring too. This had to be it, sure he had run down to the hatching sands twice earlier this week and nothing but a growling and pissed off gold dragon to greet him. But this HAD to be it! He had slept in his Candidate robes the past few nights and carried them around with him in a bag when he wasn’t near his trunk. He had to be ready at a second’s notice.

Already with his robes on he grabbed his sandals and ran out toward the sands. “This is it!,” He yelled at the top of his lungs as he ran through the hallways. This one had to be it, other people were moving around this time. He skidded to a stop before getting to the hatching sands and pulled his sandals on. This is it, he thought one more time before closing his eyes and waiting for the Candidate  master to show up.

Offline O'sir

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O’sir! Wake up! The eggs are going to hatch!

Saibrasoth’s faintly agitated shout, coupled with the deep thrumming rumbling up from all around the weyr, woke the Candidate Master in his bed. Startled awake even as he was, it took him a moment to process what was going on. But when he heard Saibrasoth humming outside on the ledge, he bolted out of bed, flinging the covers back to keep them from getting tangled in his legs. Nevertheless, he nearly tripped as he staggered over to his clothes to pull on a rumpled—although clean—shirt and struggle into his pants. He was as abruptly awake as his dragon was, and thrusting one leg into his pants, when his brain caught up with his actions and it occurred to him that there was someone else here who needed to be on the Hatching Sands as much as he did.

“Sethunya!” There was no time for him to wake her gently. Something in Saibrasoth’s tone had told the Candidate Master that. And what sharding time was it anyway? “Sethunya, wake up, the Hatching is starting!”

O’sir managed to get his belt fashioned without tripping, and took a brief detour to swig a large gulp of alcohol from one of the bottles on his desk before he stopped himself long enough to take a breath. He was immediately in motion again, digging through Sethunya’s belongings and abruptly glad that she had moved so many of her things here. Where were her Candidate robes?!

 Only then did he realize that this was insane. O’sir paused a moment, and glanced out of the weyr toward the ledge where his dragon was sitting. //What by between is going on? Hatchings usually aren’t this… quick. Is something wrong?//

On his ledge, Saibrasoth shifted uncomfortably and flared his wings, eager to be carrying his rider and Sethuyna down to the Sands. Three of the eggs are already ready to Hatch!

“Shards.” O’sir muttered the word under his breath as he tossed undergarments, sandals, and the Candidate robes to Sethunya where she was sitting up blearily on the bed. He smiled at her ruefully, appreciating for a split second the sight of her in the dying glows. “Looks like the dragonets are excited to meet you. We need to get going.”

//I guess there’s not really going to be any time to go over the Hatching protocol again… Are any of the Candidates already there?//

Yes. The Brown was shifting again, uncharacteristically excited as he fed off of the energy of the other dragons in the weyr. Some of them are.

Well, that was both a good and a bad thing. Hopefully the ones that were there would be Impressing to any over-eager dragonets. But it also heightened the possibility of maulings, which O’sir definitely wanted to avoid.

Swearing softly to himself again, he hurriedly finished dressing. Once Sethunya, too, was ready, he kissed her quickly and ushered her onto the back of his dragon.

Just as Saibrasoth had half-finished his descent to the bottom of the Weyr Bowl—and the entrance to the Hatching Sands—a change in the hum of the dragon beneath him made O’sir twitch in surprise. //Did one of them just hatch already?!//

Not one. Three of them. Saibrasoth hesitated. O’sir, they’re… Different.

The Candidate Master muttered “Shards” for what must have been the twentieth time that morning, and jumped off Saibrasoth’s neck as soon as the dragon had touched down in the dark Weyr Bowl and they were low enough to the ground to do so without hurting himself. He turned and helped Sethunya down off his dragon as soon as he had. //Saibrasoth, tell all the Candidates to get here NOW.//

He could feel his dragon broadcasting that message to any who hadn’t yet arrived, even as he smiled privately for Sethunya. “You’re going to be a great dragon rider,” he confided to her in a whisper, before pulling her into the entrance to the Sands.

O’sir didn’t have time, with what awaited him there, to worry about what gossip-mongering might take place at them arriving so together.

At Halirina's shout, O'sir simply nodded to the Candidates already clustered, unsure, about him at one end of the Sands. "Go ahead," he urged them gently. "This is the moment you've been waiting for. Just be careful."

Spoiler for OOC:
I had permission from Sanctified to power-play Sethunya onto the Sands for the purpose of only having to do all this in one post. :3
« Last Edit: March 10, 2014, 08:03:36 PM by SirAlahn »

Offline A'lori

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It was the thrumming of his three flits that woke Arveloriann. Blearily, he could sense that the other Candidates were moving around in the dark of the Weyr Hall, but it didn’t really occur to him just what was going on until he caught sight of the three flits settled in a row at the end of his bed. They were staring off at nothing, eyes whirling in excitement, and humming in a synchronized way that might have been cute (or creepy?) if he hadn’t known what it meant.

The Hatching! It was finally here! All of his thoughts of doubt, of wondering if the dragon that had Searched him had made a mistake, fled from his mind as the ex-Weaver almost literally jumped out of bed. Even that motion didn’t disturb the three flits settled on his covers.

Obedient as they were, they already knew not to follow him onto the Sands. Which was something Arveli was thankful for as he hurriedly pulled on his Candidate Robes and struggled to get his sandals on properly. Damnation, why were these straps thwarting him! He certainly didn’t need three antsy firelizards to add to the mix.

Nevertheless, he felt disturbingly bare as he smoothed the robe over his body and strode out of the Weyr Hall without them. Having Vanity, Guard, and Poppet settled on him or flickering in the air around him would have reassured him.

It was far, far too early in the morning for this.

That thought plagued him the entire time he made his way down to the Hatching Sands. Mercifully, it was fairly close to the Candidate quarters in case of an event just like this.

But he was startled, as he arrived, to realize that three of the eggs had already hatched. Into RED dragons! Who had heard of such a thing!

Maybe the others in the weyr had been right, to worry that a clutch fathered by Neisoth would only yield more mutations…

Nervous as he was, there was a strange calm that had settled on him. This could be the moment that he Impressed to his dragon. Arveli didn’t even care what people might say to him if he Impressed one of these beautiful, ruby-colored little creatures currently cavorting about the Sands. They were gorgeous, and his heart hurt to imagine them going between.

He didn’t want them to disappear, even if they weren’t like the other dragons Pern had ever seen before. At Halirina (and then O’sir’s) orders, Arveli stepped hesitantly onto the Sands. He could feel the heat of it under his sandals, but forced the thought away as he cautiously edged closer to the dragonets.

Queriluth | 2 Turns Old | 21M Long | 3.5M Tall | 35M Wingspan
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Offline Sethunya

Sethunya felt like an alien in her own skin with the loose Candidate robes on. But never the less, after O’sir left her to attend the other Candidates, she was faced with the Hatching Sands. Time and time again she’d entered, but not to a scene like this. People were rushing to take the stands, clamoring for a look at the red dragons? Who were barely contained by a very large, very gold Dragon. At least Kalestath seemed to have a handle on them. Either way, she caught up quickly with Arveli and found herself trembling slightly.

Red dragons. Not black. Not bronze, green, or blue. Red. What did that even mean? And they were already so… so active, so here and broadcasting such thoughts of happiness and excitement her heart could feel nothing but joy at seeing them. Who could be upset at the three bundles of energetic joy? Especially when they were so, so very happy to be out of the egg and curious.

Sethunya shook herself, realizing her thoughts had gotten caught up in the unimpressed Red dragonet’s excitement. They were simply pouring out their little hearts. Did that mean she’d Impressed to one of them? Sethunya really… didn’t know what to think. She just stood in place and decided, until otherwise, she’d wait.
All powerplay by O'sir is allowed.
As of 1.6.2591 Tyrriath is 16 months old - 31.3M long, 6.5M tall.

Offline Carayia

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Cara awoke to the people in her shared space moving and bustling about. Someone yelled out "Hatching", which caused Cara's own adrenaline to spike. Throwing the furs off to the foot of her bed, Carayia jumped out, threw on her robes, and grabbed the cloth band around her wrist, tying her hair up as she struggled to hop around putting on shoes. Overall, she was up, ready, and hustling out the door in the time she would try to open her eyes.

Only when she got down to the Weyr Bowl heading towards the Sands and her adrenaline started to drop did she feel the vibrations throughout the weyr. //This is almost as strong as it was back at Fort...// Following some of the other candidates to the Sands, Cara ran past the stables and into the entrance of the Sands.

Stopping at the edge, Cara looked over the sands, looking for O'sir or anyone who would direct all this. Seeing O'sir and what he said, she slowly walked along the edge of the sands, away from the group so she could be alone. Seeing the red dragons, Cara gave a surprised look. //This is new, but oh wow, does this make things interesting.//

Vesith: 9 meters, 7 months old

Offline Erieen

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What the shards was that noise?

Groaning, Erieen rolled over with the intention to tell whoever’s bed he was in to make it stop. He awoke sourly when he rolled into nothing but empty sheets, realizing that he was asleep in his bed in the Candidate hall. How often did that happen? It immediately cast him into a black mood, silently cursing everything and everyone for such a misfortune when it dawned on him what had woken him up. He’d heard that sound before, on previous days like this one. Though perhaps never so early in the damn morning.

Faranth, he thought with a faint whisper of irony that he was doing so at all, Please let me Impress today. Please.

That was the only plaintiveness Erieen would allow himself. It would be silly to imagine that thinking such a thing would even help his chances at Impressing a dragon. But with his age steadily approaching the upper limit for Candidates, the whore was desperate. If he didn’t Impress before his time was up, he would be… nothing for the rest of his life. His value as a whore would only last as long as his youthful looks did.

Angrily, Erieen pushed those thoughts from his mind as he pulled on his Candidate robes. Even more angrily, he pushed away the faint wish that he’d woken up in C’ace’s bed instead of his own. The Blue rider had undoubtedly found some drudge or other rider to tumble with him the night before. And Erieen didn’t own him—didn’t want to. But on a morning like this, when his self-confidence felt shaky, he would have liked to have a warm body by his side when he woke.

Cold and preoccupied with thoughts of cautious hopefulness, Erieen made his way down to the Hatching Sands with the other Candidates. They were stumbling a little in the dark, looking as haggard and tired and bleary as he felt. He cursed himself softly, then, for not having had the presence of mind to put on any makeup before coming down to the Sands. He might not have been allowed more elaborate clothing, but it would have been nice nonetheless. What awful little dragons had to choose now to hatch, anyway?

Erieen caught his breath when he actually caught sight of the ones that had hatched—already? They were bright, sinful red, stunning and utterly unconcerned by the fact that they were, to the eyes of most on Pern, a mutation, and perhaps an unlucky one. Erieen had to admire them for their easy carelessness. These little creatures didn’t care that they were the odd ones out. No, they seemed far more interested in exploring the world around them to care what other people thought of them.

Sayimith | 10 Months Old | 7.26M Long | 1.44M Tall | 10.8M Wingspan

Offline Svenia

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Between the vibration and her flits sending messages in her mind there was no way Sven was going to be able to sleep through the noise. When Sven opened her eyes she looked about with her brown eyes. The whole Weyr was vibrating from the sound of the dragon’s welcoming in the new generation. If it had not been her bronze sending her pictures from a hidden spot in the hatching sands, Sven would have probably would have thought that the Weyr was under going an earthquake of some sort.

Slev winked from between chattering at her Hurry Hurry.. baby come soon! he said to her and Sven smiled and nodded her head ”ok, Ok I am coming”. She hopped from bed and raced to her dresser to pull out her white candidate robs. She pulled on her boots and as she raced down the halls she pulled her long hair into a ponytail.

She stopped just before the entrance to the hatching sands and looked for O’sir, she would not make this mistake again. She turned to the flit that was flying around her head //Go find Blanth.. stay out of the way// she told him and watched him blink between.

Once O’sir showed and gave them the go a head Sven stumbled onto the sands to see that three babies had already hatched. Sven felt her heart beat quicker at the site of the beautiful reds and stood with the rest of the candidates waiting for her dream to come true and one of the babies to pick her.

Offline Natural Events

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The dragonets were so so excited. Chirping, chittering, and sending up such a raucous. Without the confines of the shell, the three babies were free to extend limb and wing. Even if it was in an uncoordinated mess of must do everything all at once!. But the suppressing and calming thoughts of Kalestath soothed them somewhat.

That is, contained the red, gleaming beauties to the small pit in the sand they’d flailed about it. Until people were there! Actual candidates in their pretty white clothes, moving onto the sands, drawing attention to themselves. Nervous or not, the red dragons were absolutely thrilled. Trilling their excitement, they brushed aside Kalestath’s suggestion they remain in place and, of a like mind, all three turned on the Candidates.

They did not approach timidly, didn’t fixate on one person, but they did rush. It was like watching a wave of red hide and wing bear down on them before Arveli, Sethunya, and poor, newly arriving Carayia were tackled by the bundles of excitement. While the dragonets were small in comparison to Kalestath, or what a Bronze dragonet might be, the three hit each candidate with enough force to knock them off their feet in a tangle of limbs, blunted claws, and very, very sharp teeth that had been used to crack and break eggshell.

Their thoughts, while flailing amongst the candidates and scoring cursory rends with their claws, were of a supreme excitement. But none of them fixated on any one candidate. That is, not until one of them struggled to free itself from Arveli, hitting him about the face with its tail, while clawing at the sands towards one of the other candidates.

The Candidate was hesitant to approach an already awful pile of dragon and candidate until he simply announced, “The Red… She’s really, really hungry.”

The other two Red Dragons, not impressed but struggling mightily with the candidates they’d tackled, suddenly let loose small trumpets of joy that their sister had Impressed.

The small beast on Sethunya suddenly twisted on her, his claws cutting up her robes and stomach ( though not fatally, but enough to certainly stain the fabric red ), used her to launch himself at the small Red presently biting on Carayia’s leg. With a squeal, they tumbled off to the side for a moment before the one that had ‘saved’ her sent his thoughts of triumph to Carayia.

I saved you! Vesith is your hero! he proclaimed before flaring his wide wings. Now feed me! And with the thought of an overbearing hunger hitting Carayia, the tiny Red Vesith pounced on her. Because he loved her and she would feed him!

Spoiler for OOC:
Egg 008 -- Vesith -- Carayia
Egg 030 -- Red 001 -- NPC
« Last Edit: March 11, 2014, 05:09:22 PM by SirAlahn »
This is an NPC account acting on behalf of said terrible beasties of Southern Winds Weyr and the other natural disasters.

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Offline A'tor

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Ator woke in a fright from all the herd and runner beasts baying and bellowing, Risk flying in tight circles over his head and chirping repeatedly. He sat up from the haybale he was leaning against. //Why the hell are there runnerbeasts in my room... Oh, wait...// Ator got up and immediately felt the vibrations. "Risk.... what is going on?"

Risk landed on Ator's head, Hatchings!! "What?? Now? Oh damn, We have to get out of here." Ancotor jumped up, smoothing out his outfit, and started to run out of the stable with Risk picking out pieces of straw and hay out of his hair. Seeing the other candidates running over to the Sands, Ancotor fell in step behind them. Reaching the edge, Ancotor looked to O'sir who was letting the others onto the sands.

Before he stepped out, Ancotor looked to his forearm where Risk had his head on Ancotor's shoulder and tail wrapped at the elbow. //Hey buddy, remember.. Be safe, don't act foolishly.// Risk purred a bit and looked up to Ancotor. I promise.

Ancotor grinned at his bonded, took a deep breath, and walked out on to the sands. Towards the 3 newly hatched.... red dragons.
Yedeth: 5.3 meters; 3 months old

Offline J'ol

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Groggily, J'ol rolled over to the thrumming of the dragons announcing the hatching in the Weyr.  It took a few minutes, but once he realized what was happening, he was out of bed and dressed in his candidates robes in a matter of minutes. Once he reached the sands, he almost plowed over Svenia, who had stopped at the edge before entering, and mumbled an apology before looking across the eggs at O'sir.  Jrolnik looked out across the sands and his heart almost stopped.  //Red dragons// he thought to himself in surprise.  //This is going to make things even more interesting in the days and beyond to come//. 

Following Svenia's lead, Jrolnik stepped out onto the sands and walked around the outer rim of the eggs to try and set himself apart from the rest of the group and allowing whichever dragonet chose to impress with him to have as much room as possible.

Offline Halirina

There are few things that set the Gold Queen off more than perceived insults or slights. Given the worry and frantic movements of the candidates that shuffled on to the sands and the craziness of three Red Dragons, Halirina didn’t notice Ancotor. Not at first. If she had, seeing the candidate without proper dress waltzing onto the sands with a firelizard would’ve set her off. No one was to show up under-dressed to one of the clutches, let along bring another animal around the eggs.

But Halirina didn’t see. She was too busy rushing to the fallen girl who had been cut open by the over excited dragonet. Such wounds happened, they weren’t uncommon, but Halirina didn’t trust anyone else on the sands yet. Not with the chaos of the Red dragons Impressing.

She knew something was wrong very quickly though. Anger raced up her spine and sucked the breath from her lungs, making her unable to shout at the foolish boy who had become the focus of the Gold Queen.

Kalestath’s thoughts hit Halirina and brought her to her knees. How. Dare. He. Disrespect. Her. Clutch! The Dragon’s rage momentarily silenced the hatchlings as Kalestath actually advanced on the boy. Faster than her bulk would suggest, more than careful for the eggs she protected, the Gold lunged forward to eat the offender.

//Kalestath, NO!// Halirina shouted mentally with as much force as she could muster, scrambling in the sands away from the wounded girl. She would live. But the boy and his flit might not. “Get him out, get him out! Get! Him! Out!” She wasn’t sure if she was actually screaming or if someone nearby was.

Kalestath’s maw bit into the sand just in front of the boy, brought up short by her Rider’s command. But the Queen, eyes whirling a bloody red, drew back and roared her indignation. Wings flared, she swiped at Ancotor since she couldn’t eat him and hit the flit with every ounce of authority she had in her mental command of OUT. It was as wordy as she could be in the state of mind she was in.


« Last Edit: March 10, 2014, 10:33:59 PM by Halirina »

Length: 42M || Height: 9M || Wingspan: 71M

Offline Carayia

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Carayia hit the sand with a hard jolt when the red dragonet landed on her. Cara couldn't help but laugh with the energy that the dragonet almost visibly radiated. But when it started to gnaw on her leg, she winced and wanted to speak in protest, but instead she decided to endure it and not say anything.

That only happened for a quick second however, when another red blur came by and tackled the red on her. After a few seconds of them tussling about another, the one who came to her rescue turned to her, eyes mixed with hunger and happiness. Then Cara's jaw dropped when the red dragonet, no, her red dragonet said I saved you! Vesith is your hero!, pouncing on her.

Cara at first was at a loss for words, instead just embracing the red dragonet on top of her. But a few seconds later, Cara looked at him. "Yes, yes you did save me, you brave little one. I'm Carayia. But I can be Cara to you." Then his hunger hit her mind with raw force. //Let's get you some food, Vesith.// Cara told her dragonet with a smile.
« Last Edit: March 12, 2014, 10:21:29 PM by Carayia »

Vesith: 9 meters, 7 months old

Offline O'sir

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This Hatching was rapidly becoming the stuff of nightmares.

Three dragons had hatched at once. Before he’d even had a chance to organize his Candidates and get them onto the Sands. And whatever O’sir might have thought of that, or the fact that the little beasts were vividly, undeniably Red dissolved as the three dragonets launched themselves at one of the tangled groups of Candidates milling at the edge of the Sands.

O’sir’s first instinct, foolish though it might be, was to put himself in the path of the dragonets. Better he be mauled than any of his students. No matter that he might never admit it, but they were like little siblings to him. Like the family members he had tried and failed to protect during the 9th Pass. And to see any of them mauled or otherwise hurt, even unintentionally by an over-excited dragonet, terrified him.

But he was too far away to reach them before the dragons did. And as three of the Candidates went down, knocked into the Sand by the excitement of the three little Reds, he realized that one of them was Sethunya.

When had she gotten so far away from him? Hadn’t she been right next to him when they’d come in? But that didn’t matter now—all that did were those flailing balls of red limbs, far too adorned with sharp claws and teeth and pointy ends of wings for his liking. They could all too easily puncture something, or bite too close to a vein, or put out an eye…

But the Candidate Master was caught. Even as he realized two of the beasts had Impressed, he didn’t dare touch the hatchlings. And all he could fixate on was the rend over Sethunya’s abdomen, the blood staining her now torn Candidate robes.

O’sir only had time to stagger over to her, realizing breathlessly that the wounds were not going to be fatal, before it seemed all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Outside the Sands, he felt and heard Saibrasoth scream before taking to the sky.

Everything seemed to move in a succession of single images. Ancotor, not in his robes. Risk twined around one of his arms. Kalestath launching herself across the Sands. Her mouth slamming down against the Sands, tossing grains this way and that in a blinding spray. Her eyes whirling as Red as the three of her children that had just hatched. And one of her huge paws smacking the offending Candidate.

//He’s going to be dead.// O’sir felt white hot rage as he realized what Ancotor had done. How he had disrespected the clutch, and the Queen. But as angry as he was—angry enough he’d refuse to let the boy Stand again—he didn’t want him to pay for that stupid, stupid mistake with his life. And so he acted without thinking. Striding out onto the hot sands, searing under the soles of his boots, and hooking his hands under Ancotor’s arms to drag him off, away from Kalestath and her wrath.

He was the Candidate Master. That was his job. No matter if he, too, suffered for it. Mercifully, it seemed she had struck Ancotor with the flat of her paw, not her claws. He didn’t seem gashed open, there was no huge and dark pool of blood seeping into the sand under him. But he was already bruising. Dazed. Possibly with a concussion? And O’sir would be surprised if he had escaped without any cracked or broken ribs. It seemed impossible, when the force of an angry Gold dragon struck a mere human.

Offline Sethunya

Sethunya didn’t move when the dragonets advanced. They were so happy, cute, and beautiful… But she didn’t realize they didn’t slow down until it was far too late and one was launching itself at her. The weight of the dragonet took her off her feet and brought her down hard. She couldn’t even brace for the impact!

She tried to get a hand on the heavy dragonet, but it seemed unable to be still. Too excited, too eager! Bombarding her with emotions that confused her and ouch. The dragons claws cut her robes and skin as it dried to do… she didn’t even know what it was attempting to accomplish.

But something else caught its attention and those claws dug into her gut. She actually lost her breath as the force of it jumping off of her pushed it out. Then there was more pain. Oh. Like she’d laid across a forge or a fire, the pain blossomed on her stomach where her hands automatically went to try and… make it stop.

Her vision swam, her heart beat raced in her ears, and she lost herself to that angry sensation on her body.

There was so much noise so far away, she didn’t know what was happening. Couldn’t have moved for Kalestath if she wanted. Her hands pressed over the deep gashes in her stomach as she simply laid there.

Because that was easier. That didn’t involve effort, not when she was on fire with pain. Maybe if she didn’t move at all… It’d stop…
All powerplay by O'sir is allowed.
As of 1.6.2591 Tyrriath is 16 months old - 31.3M long, 6.5M tall.

Offline Svenia

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As she had pasued at the entrance to the hatching sands she had not realize people had been following so closely behind her and so when a young male brushed against her, almost plowing her over she held out her hands to help stead herself, When J'ol spoke his apologies she bobbed her head ”It’s ok” she said softly and then continued to move out onto the sands.

She could not believe everything that was happening, the three red’s were mauling all of over people trying to decide upon their chosen. When the girl closest to her had been left to bleed by the red dragonet she bent down to the younger girl and spoke ”Are you ok?” she asked her looking at her wounds just as the candidate master rushed to her side. Sven stepped back from the two and let him handle the female and turned to watch the rest of the clutch…

But the excitement did not stop there, suddenly the queen was coming unglued and launching herself with whirling red eyes at a Candidate that was not in his white rob. How had the daft boy forgotten to put the candidate clothing on? She watched as O’sir drug the boy from the sands as the queen’s jaws snapped just in front of the boy. He had almost paid for his stupidity with his life.

She turned back to the clutch this time her eyes wide and watching, what else was going to happen? True this was not her first hatching but this one was just one terrible even after another. She hoped that for the Queen’s sake and her riders that nothing else angered her and that everyone left the sands alive.

Offline Razilia

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Between the Weyrwoman's shout and the arrival of the Candidate-master Raz's ruminations had been flying kicked over the ledge. But she had to her credit; tried to keep calm and exude happy welcoming thoughts. Which had almost been rattled out of her mind by the trio of exuberant reds. Though the mental babble and flitlike feelings of playfulness was lessened by one as the trio pounced upon three of her fellow candidates was lessened soon enough. By one of the trio choosing a candidate apparently; though she couldn't tell which red had done it right off.

Nonetheless she tried to smile at the girl and then set about watching the other two babies yet to Impress. Seeing what might have been a slight wound caused by the hatchling made her wince somewhat. But Razilia tried to shove that thought to the bottom of the stack of happy thoughts she was trying to keep up in her mind. Like the memory of the first time she saw her little boy smile up at her from his auntie's lap. Or the day little meep hatched out; though this thought was much quieter. Things were getting manic after all; what with the rest of the others arriving. One particular male UNDERdressed in the worst possible way and with a flit in tow, inciting the sort of movement Raz hoped she'd never have to test her ability to freeze in place for.

From the one Adult sized dragon on the sands; as it looked like Kalestath was about to eat either the Flit his human or both at once. But then either got pulled back by her Rider; or decided on a whim to scare the male into wetting himself. Whatever Kalestath's intent was; Raz simply tried to stay stock still as she looked at the young dragons and the remaining eggs. And sincerely hoped the Candidatemaster could get the fool off the sands before he got killed. Not only because seeing the Gold kill someone would likely scar all present as far as humans were concerned. But it might rattle the babies hard enough to scare some between. Well one of the hatched that remained on the sands as Raz almost noted there had been a second Impression when two reds had made it off the sands to be fed by their new Riders.

At least two babies and their weyrlings are going to be ok. Of course Meep buzzed as a thoughtless wad of energy in the back of her mind. But Razilia gently shushed her with a wave of calm and love. Much better that a CALM Meep met her future partner if such a dragon sat in this clutch. But she tried to let none of that last thought show as she saw O'sir save the male after he'd gotten thwacked pretty firmly. Hopefully he wasn't so damaged he couldn't work at whatever craft he was in. A fellow female Candidate she winced at the sight of was next in her hope that she'd survive this. Though Raz didn't blame the dragonling that had caused the damage; they were just babies after all. But the fact someone else was trying to talk to the fallen girl showed Raz that the fallen one might live, so she refocused on the happier thoughts.

Offline A'lori

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When the little Red first bounded toward him, Arveli’s heart had jumped. This was it! He was going to Impress!

His immediately secondary thought, as the little dragon nearing him didn’t slow down, was that it was attacking him. But it didn’t seem angry, as it filled Arveloriann with mingled confusion, excitement, and hunger. This wasn’t his dragon—he could tell that when it didn’t speak to him. At least, he thought that was how it worked. He didn’t know this dragon’s name. And beyond cursorily sharing its emotions, it wasn’t that deeper bond that the Candidate Master had described. This didn’t feel like his other half.

All it felt like was pain. Those oh so sharp claws dug into his chest, through his Candidate robes, and Arveli couldn’t keep from crying out. Only distantly was he able to push Vanity, Guard, and Poppet to stay away. When he gasped with the feel of those claws in his flesh, they’d risen, chattering, in a cloud of gold, brown, and blue from his bed in the Weyr Hall. Had almost blinked Between to come save him. But he’d managed to keep them away.

The smell of blood rose to his nose—was it just his own? Or mingled with whoever else had been knocked over by the other two Red dragonets? Arveli couldn’t tell…

He sucked in a breath like he was drowning when that weight started to lift off of him. And then whimpered again when a whipping tail struck him in the face. Over and over again as the little hatchling tried to claw its way off of him. But with its weight finally gone—he didn’t really care where it had gone, Arveli became aware of just how hot the sands were under him. The robes weren’t really doing anything to shield him from that, and he could already feel himself sweating, the white fabric sticking to his skin where the blood didn’t stain it already.

The taste of copper in his mouth made him realize his nose was bleeding too. Was it broken? He felt dizzy… All he wanted to do was crawl off the Sands and curl up in a ball and cry. And when he set one hand down on the sands, earning a scorch for his trouble, he did feel tears pricking more insistently at the corners of his eyes. And when he tried to breathe again, it made the pain in his nose bloom into another searing cacophony of sensations he really didn’t want to feel right now. Not on the day he was supposed to be Impressing.
« Last Edit: March 10, 2014, 11:17:55 PM by SirAlahn »

Queriluth | 2 Turns Old | 21M Long | 3.5M Tall | 35M Wingspan
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Offline S'lar

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S’lar was just entering his weyr from a long, relaxing soak when the rumbling started. He groaned quietly, gazing longingly at his bed before tossing his things onto a table and buttoning up his shirt. Though the sands would be warm, and he expected many of the others to be fresh out of bed, he wasn’t about to go down to an important event looking like he’d just left the jungle.
 
We must hurry. The first of the eggs have already hatched. There’s something strange about them, apparently. The dragon’s voice sounded both excited and faintly puzzled.

//Strange? How so?//

The first three hatched simultaneously, and they were all Red.

//…Red? Shards, the Sands must be in chaos.//

They are. Several of those Standing have already been wounded, and Kalestath is in a rage over something. I think one of the Candidates did something very, very wrong.

//We’d best hurry, then.//

S’lar flung himself onto his dragon’s broad back, barely settling in place before Aelsanth dropped off the ledge, curving down in a tight, rapid arc towards the floor of the bowl. The hard landing sent a jolt through both dragon and rider, but no sooner than they’d touched down S’lar was off and running towards the Sands. A midnight Hatching, with not only a new color but numerous early injuries… He had a feeling the next few days were going to be a special kind of hell.

Steeling himself, he raced into the chaos of the Sands, ignoring the panicked babble as he looked around for O’sir or Halirina, hoping to find someone in charge and begin settling the situation. S’lar managed to catch Halirina’s eye, but he could tell from the look on her face that it was all she could do to deal with her Gold. O’sir was dragging a limp form out of the Hatching Grounds, presumably whichever young idiot had caused this. It was going to be up to him, then, until O’sir returned to take over.

Taking stock of the commotion, his eyes fell on a younger girl, her blood-soaked Candidate’s robes splayed out around her prone form, several vicious wounds gouged through her stomach. Running forward, he grabbed a rider by the shoulder and gave him a shove towards the entrance to the Sands. “Go wake up the Healers. Get them out here with supplies, tell them it’s an emergency. Run, or people die.”

With the rider sent on his way, S’lar dug into his belt pouch for his first aid kit, pulling out a small bottle of cleansing alcohol and a wad of bandages as he knelt by the injured girl. Opening the bottle with his teeth, he poured a small amount into her mouth, just enough to force her to swallow without choking before he gently pulled her robes aside to get a look at the wounds. He cringed faintly at what he saw, whispering a silent prayer that the Healers come swiftly. The wounds were too deep, too large for him to handle with what he’d brought. For now, he settled for holding the bandages in place, applying a faint pressure to try and slow the blood flow, hoping the Healers could arrive in time.

Offline Iseult

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Razilia did, indeed, receive a glare from Iseult.  Iseult was all comrade-in-arms smiles with the other candidates, but to Razilia and Shenzani she shot distasteful glares.  Not that she spared the whore Eireen any smiles either, when he finally showed up, but she had decidedly assumed he wasn’t even worth considering.  He’d never impress.  And he was ‘late’ anyway, at least in her mind, probably peddling the furs of another client the night before. 

She couldn’t help but smile to herself as Razilia pointedly gave her a wide berth, respecting her territory.  Well at least that settled it.  Iseult was obviously the more graced of the two candidates, even Razilia seemed to know it.  Now it was only the candidate Shenzani she had to worry about.  If the hatching had taken place during the day, she could’ve done something to maybe slow her getting to the sands, but as it was it was too late.  Iseult would just have to leave it up to the dragonets to see realize that she was the more worthy of the two.

While they were still waiting for the candidate master to arrive, a loud cracking rent the air followed up shortly by a wave of… giddiness?  For whatever reason, Iseult felt giddy.  Not just giddy, but incredibly irritated, as if she had a headache but couldn’t stop grinning about it.  As though she was happy that the sudden wave of emotions made her feel like crap.  Even so, her mind was suddenly clear, the edges of sleep pushed away, and she almost felt like swinging the candidate nearest her in a circle and laughing.  She maybe could’ve even skipped.

What in Farnath’s name was wrong with her?!

Then she caught side of the red hatchlings the golden dragon was trying to keep in line.  Red… hatchings… She should’ve felt irritated.  Indeed, a part of her did feel irritated, that there were more mutants, but for the most part she had an odd inkling to run around and join them in a very uncharacteristic matter.  And she didn’t like the feeling one bit.  Were they doing this?  In all of her hatching experience, she had never been hit so

By Farnath… she hadn’t just impressed a mutant had she? 

The candidate master finally arrived, dragging another candidate oddly in tow, but she didn’t have time to worry about that or the possible scandal there.  Instead her eyes were fixed on the dragonets and as he indicated for them all to move forward, she hesitated.  If she’d really impressed she wasn’t sure she wanted to move forward.  Maybe if she lingered they would choose someone else?

And it seemed to work.  The dragonets charged  and they thankfully didn’t aim for her.  She could’ve hugged one in gratitude, though probably only because of the stupid emotions that were still rolling off of them, though now with much less intensity.  She watched, remarkably unaffected as flood already began flowing across the sands.  Thank Farnath none of them had been interested in her.

Still, if there were already three mutants on the sands, how many more were about to appear?

Then the queen screamed bloody murder and Iseult’s blood went cold.  It was then that she saw the offender.  He was far closer to her than she wanted.  Far closer to all of them.  And she, as so many others, made not haste retreating as fast as she could.  Anyone in the Queen’s way would surely be crushed. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid boy!  Stupid sharding idiot!  Imbecile!  She would’ve shouted if fear had not still been pulsing through her veins, her breath heavy as sweat ran around the side of her face.  She sucked in what air she could, nearly choking, but the Queen was on him.  Or at least looked like she was from Iseult’s position.  Had the dragon… eaten him?

Not that she felt anything for the boy, but something did churn in her stomach.  Something she wasn’t used to feeling.  She’d seen death before but this… this… she’d seen candidates killed, she’d seen the clutch mothers turn on candidates, but this close in front of her?  While she was watching?  There wasn’t a way to describe what she felt.

Then the candidate master was rushing forward, dragging the candidate back, and she felt relief wash over her.  Not for the candidates sake but because she hadn’t witnessed something so horrible.  She backed away from the queen even so, unwilling to approach the eggs again until she had calmed.  She, for one, was not going to get herself killed or mauled over another fools idiotic mistake.  But she couldn’t quite get the anger back.  Her body was shivering.  She was shaking.

Sharding idiot… he could’ve gotten them all killed.
Bring it on - and expect repayment in kind.

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