The following is a log of roleplay on Star Stones MOO, logged by Dallaney.
All references to the world and characters of Pern™ based on Anne McCaffrey's fiction
are copyright© 1967 by Anne McCaffrey, all rights reserved. The Dragonriders of Pern® is
registered U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, by Anne McCaffrey and used here with
permission.
(Zippo) Lauryn watches as hatchlings pair off, and grins. "Ah, well,
I guess
the practicing can wait." She sets the intrument aside, and turns to the
little one on the floor. "Hey there, little one, up you get." She watches
the little bronze, and sees him sizing up the crowd. "You've both got to be
hungry." she says, breaking her meatroll up into smaller chuncks.
Main Living Cavern
The careless glitter of rose quartz reflects and refracts the light from
within its bed of granite, each beam bringing a new shifting, a new subtlty
of sight. Rows of long trestle table are seated in orderly awareness under
the carven vault of the ceiling, centered around a great dais upon which sits
the best-made one; this, too, shows the roughness of the others, but a
roughness smoothed by time, and accented by the complexity of beams that show
Turns-taken tesselation in their upward arch. Neither tapestries nor
coverings mar the marbling of wild beauty, leaving unadorned grandeur that in
naturalistic simplicity provides comfort to the occupants of the cavern.
One archway, the only covered by a drape of black and gold, shields the
entrance to the bowl from the blow of sand; another, almost unobtrusive,
marks the entrance to the lower caverns through a short, winding and
uncarefully-carved tunnel.
Perched somewhere up high, you see Zippo, Maestro, Sioux, and Vitesse.
You see Rushweed Basket, Beast, Ierie, Canyon, SurfBlaster Wing table, Ugly
Egg Pot, **Hatching Rules**, Honorable Chang Wufei Bronze Hatchling, Fighter
Sally Po Brown Hatchling, Sandrock Egg, Pink Limo Egg, and Romafeller Egg
here.
Isabella, Lauryn, and M'doc are here.
From here you can go:
Kitchens
Lower Caverns
Bowl
Infirmary
The current weather report:
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
IgenW: Center Bowl Area (#5491)
It is a clear, dark night. Belior is slowly waxing towards a quarter full and
Timor is waning from a full moon. It is a fall night.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
M'doc spears a piece of meat with deft agility, fork hovering like some giant
raptor over the plate before it vanishes into the darkness where no man has
gone before ... not that anyone would want to mount an expedition into
M'doc's mouth, anyway. "Sharded things. Not worth a second glance ..."
Eyes dart sideways, assessing, worrying ... deciding neither brown nor bronze
is a threat to her position as the owner of ... far more firelizards than
she'd like, minus one.
Isabella Looks from the bronze to the brown glanceing everynow and then to her
gem on the table. Holdign out the piece of meat in her left hand she wiggles
it just a bit trying to get one of the two firelizards attention "Here you go
eather one of you can have this" she says to them both.
Honorable Chang Wufei Bronze Hatchling
A warrior's deadly beauty is born within a firelizard's form; keen lines frame
his slim form only to be traced with muscles toned by nothing but pure will.
Shy, quiet, but Oh, so powerful. A shadow's claiming fingers cut across his
regal bronze with a feline's stripes to bridge the honor and integrity of his
metalic heritage with lethal mastery. Oriental glyphs etch their way along
his trefoil-shaped ridges with the same cinnabar that limns long spars.
Power is obvious, agility is apparent; he is a warrior from an older, more
elegant age.
Honorable Chang Wufei Bronze Hatchling favors the girl with quite the leveling
gaze. His shyness is apparent as he casts a hesitant step forward, then
another, and another 'til he is front and center with her. Yes, a worthy
opponent -or partner.
High-pitched creels turn to warbling croons as Honorable Chang Wufei Bronze
Hatchling wobbles towards Lauryn.
Sandrock Egg explodes, leaving behind scattered shards...and Intelligent
Quatre Rabera Winner Bronze Hatchling!
Intelligent Quatre Rabera Winner Bronze Hatchling
Dry heat wafts off his haunches' slim curve, whipping to life tanned dunes
that drift over his rounded tummy to cast intricate curls and eddies of a
desert's dusty grains along the rest of this gentle firelizard's frame. Keen
intelligence sings along the finely-set arch of eyeridges to cast his orbs as
deep as his very soul. While beaded pearls of wisdom line his back in the
form of glistening 'ridges, weathered bronze vermeil is overcast with the
sandstorm's might, dulling while abraiding, but aged with sparkles of a fiery
intellect nonetheless.
Fighter Sally Po Brown Hatchling stumbles a pair of steps, catching a wingtip
and threatening to overbalance. Its okay! It okay! Perfecty fine. Wings come
back to cloak his back rather neatly as he sweeps forward and proves just how
much of a fighter he is. He shall fight... /that/. And off he trundles...
Dallaney trips in, the earlier dash encouraging the beads of sweat off
forehead and eyes; that table leg did indeed prove an obstacle. She leaps to
straddle the bench beside, attention turning to the motley crowd of eggs and
people alike. "'Lizards--" someone informs, which elicits a grunt from
Dallan, that and a grab at the boy's meatroll. So there.
Lauryn watches as the Bronze Hatchling approaches, then stops in front of her.
He lifts his proud head to her, she looks down on him, and suddenly, she
grins. "Oh, my. You chose me?" She moves the bits of meatroll towards him,
and he devours them with great delight, and some bits of dignity. She picks
up the tiny bronze, and grins. "Well, I guess I'd better find you a place to
roost." And with that, she rises from the table, gathers up her mandolin,
and moves away from the crowd.
M'doc's fork continues the skirmishes against her chosen meal. A more agile
weapon was never found ... at least, in the hands of a herder turned rider
with a dragon who can be Pern's answer to Miss Manners. A crooked grin
cracks her features at the antics - or so she sees them - of the brown, and
she salutes him with her eating utensil.
Screech wakes up from his nap.
Vitesse goes ::between::
Fatima wakes up from her nap.
War-Loving Dorothy Catalonia Brown Hatchling curls his head to the side in a
most delightful, if coy glance that peeks just above the rim of his egg's
jagged shell. Winghooks catch the edge as he pulls himself up to watch. Ohhh,
watching is soo good.
M'doc calls Ilidan closer.
Chang flitters toward NorthWest Bowl.
Vya'nah slips gracefully in from NorthWest Bowl.
M'doc walks toward NorthWest Bowl.
Isabella looks at the brown that just hatched and smiles at it glanceing now
and again to the bronze as she holds out both pieces of meat out to both
hatchling hopeing one will take the meat she does nto care which one. Her
gaze going to the gem on the table evey now and then to see if it is still
there.
Dallaney grins toothily as the other shrinks -- the wet sleeve dangled before
his face didn't help at all -- and the relinguished meatroll she waves as
prize. "You think one of the little ones would like this if it was from me?"
she gestures slyly at the sulking kid, just to rub it in a little.
Manner-less, she is.
Vya'nah strolls in, eyeing the commotion with a quirked brow. She's in no
mood.. after that sharding greenrider.. ahem. Anyway.. A hatchling is spied,
and, out of force of habit (plus a bit of coaxing from Rhy) she slips over,
snagging a fresh peice of raw herdbeast being frantically offered by passing
drudges. Heeeere, siwwy little things.
Intelligent Quatre Rabera Winner Bronze Hatchling climbs to his feet, no
matter his frail-looking appearance. Wings slide from his back with a faint
rasp of sail against skin. When all is said and done, this finely-set bronze
moves clear of the clutch with a grace not common to one so young.
War-Loving Dorothy Catalonia Brown Hatchling's gaze flashes. Where is the
blood? Where is the gooze? Where is the food? Food! His tongue flickers along
the edges of her muzzle as he leaps clear of her egg's remaining shards,
flicking his tail after to send the pieces skittering away. A bit of a
swagger traces his movements as he gradually approaches.
Romafeller Egg explodes, leaving behind scattered shards...and Revengeful
Mariemaia Brown Hatchling!
Revengeful Mariemaia Brown Hatchling
Rather small for his ilk, the browned beast more than makes up for any
physical shortcomings with pure spite. Henna blazes across his aristocratic
countenance 'til it deepens to a near-black russet. Red's brilliant flash
returns with rust's taints along the tips of fine fingersails, spade-tipped
ail, the glossy vermeil of razor-sharp talons, and the plane of each and
every cresting 'ridge. Honed intentions train the line of his stocky frame,
Vya'nah is waggling her meat, honest! And it's all Rhy's fault. Grumble,
grumble. Moan, moan. Expletive, too. "Shush, you." A blood droplet splatters
on her forehead, and she furrows brows irritatedly. "More trouble.. than
worth," is heard, along with another expletive.
Intelligent Quatre Rabera Winner Bronze Hatchling is, to put it honestly, a
rather intelligent creature, and easily amused. He cocks his head to the side
as a rather one-sided? argumement ensues. Interesting... Very interesting.
High-pitched creels turn to warbling croons as Intelligent Quatre Rabera
Winner Bronze Hatchling wobbles towards Vya'nah.
Vya'nah blinks. Oh.. no. That /thing/ just spied her, and came over to her!
Rhyth gives an extra-loud rumble of approval. So what if he's bronze, he's
still a stud! Vya doesn't seem to think so, but still follows motherly
*coughcough* instinct and scoops the twit up and stuffs food at it. There.
Shaddup now, okay? She's not irritated, though, honest! Just.. tired. Right?
War-Loving Dorothy Catalonia Brown Hatchling pounces forward once more as his
sight is caputred by a rather juicy morsel. Dripping blood or gore or
whathaveyou? It doesn't matter, just as long as she is conscious. Just give
him a glimpse and he is yours... or you are his. *pounce*
War-Loving Dorothy Catalonia Brown Hatchling wishes to have you as his
lifemate. Do you accept?
Please enter 'yes' or 'no'. Please type the whole word.
Noa walks in from Lower Caverns.
High-pitched creels turn to warbling croons as War-Loving Dorothy Catalonia
Brown Hatchling wobbles towards you.
You have new mail (50) from War-Loving Dorothy Catalonia Brown Hatchling
(#602).
Type `help mail' for info on reading it.
Revengeful Mariemaia Brown Hatchling does like his breathren. I shall rule the
world and this one shall help me do it! ATTACK!
High-pitched creels turn to warbling croons as Revengeful Mariemaia Brown
Hatchling wobbles towards Noa.
Jagged lines cut the frame of this vivid firelizard, from razor-sharp ridges
to finely-honed talons. An aristocrat's chisled lines rake down the length of
his long muzzle, leaving nothing to chance but the glimmers of a stolen gold.
Amber's frozen hue shapes the rest of his slim form, carved with attention to
detail and a mind to all trials ahead. Wings' canopy is abraided with a lost
battle's might; veins of dark-ocher crack, webbing over the frail surface to
leave scars that transcend his brutal nature.
War-Loving Dorothy Catalonia Brown Hatchling is 0 days old.
Sioux *giggles. Gee, now only 8 more eggs to get rid of :P
Isabella has disconnected.
War, where? There's just Dallan's meatroll and that kid she shoved off.
Nevertheless, the titbit is promptly guzzled up by the brutal brown, and she
scoots off the seat with that battle cry ringing in her ears. "Ouch, ouch.
No biting." More food down there.