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.

Candidate Barracks

Stone platforms hewn from the volcanic rock line the perimeter of the room,
each one covered with a cot's mattress for young bones, and a few coverlets
according to choice. The bedstuffs appear to be sinking into the stone, the
platforms going gradually hollow from generations of anxious bodies resting
on them. The walls of the chamber are shot through with obsidian streaks from
long-ago volcanic activity that writhe over the surfaces like striations on
an egg. Natural darkness is lifted from the cavern with glowbaskets
everywhere that provide a cheerful light to welcome weary bodies to bed.

Perched somewhere up high, you see Desdemona, Culpa, Puzzle, Cedric, Bab, Min,
Aerieki, and Bronzestud.
You see a large basket, Clingy, Kabamit's Cot, Dallan's Cot, Mikani's Cozy
Corner Cot with Dexter, Mik, and Mikani occupying it, Aline's Cot of Wonders,
Solandat's Sloppy Cot with Shand, Gen, Cervad, and Ellia occupying it, Cozy
Cot, Saine's Cot, Aire's Place to Crash, Nitram's Messy Cot, Ulerae's
Under-the-Pillow Utopia, Kora's-Home-Away-From-Home, and Badge here.
Chalis, May, Noa, and Eyochai are here.
From here you can go:
Bowl

The current weather report:
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
IgenW: Center Bowl Area (#5491)
"A light breeze swirls about the air, bringing relief to those out in the
midday sun. The sky is, as usual, devoid of any clouds. It is a fall
midday.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Noa wanders about the barracks, poking candidates with a needle. Or so it wold
look. "Stop the squirmin', ya jelly-grub." She swings her arm as she stitches
up the back of Georgi's tunic- still on him. "This thing ain't comin' off but
by dragon talon. You're set." Sewn into his tunic, the young man flees.
"Next?" Goes the gardner.

Noa
Straw-yellow and stick-straight, a shoulder length chopping of hair boxes in
Noa's plain face. But plainness has its advantages in her case. Dark, soil
hued eyes are set deep and shaded by arched brows, just above the long line
of a straight nose. Her face ends with a boyishly square jaw, quickly offset
by the femininity of pale lips. Vibrant expression and cool moderation vie
for position just below the surface. She's built tall and scarecrow-like:
Sometimes sturdy, sometimes full of fluff, yet always rooted to the earth.
A patchwork work-skirt hangs sturdily on Noa's hips, cinched about the center
with a thick leather belt. Various gardening utilites hang from its loops-
Spades, scoops, bags of seed, and other devices of soil-torture. The skirt
brushes just above her ankles, where giant, black boots take over. Over the
top goes a tunic of faded orange, laced up the front and rolled at the
sleaves. The entire ensamble speaks of getting down to buisness, dirt and all.
Simple black and yellow twist once about Noa's shoulder, and are secured by a
leaf-shaped badge- Identifying her as Igen Weyr's gardner.
She is awake and looks alert.

Eyochai skulks toward Northeastern Bowl.

Mikani leave Mikani's Cozy Corner Cot with Dexter and Mik occupying it.

Josiche has arrived.
Josiche pops in from ::between::

Mikani rolls from the side of her cot, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She
looks like a youngling; hair touseled and clothes all rumpled. She observes
what seems to her to be an inordinate amount of bustle in the barracks.
"Whassup?" she mumbles to the room in general, hoping that /someone/ will
tell her what's going on.

Solandat startles awake. Who, me? Asleep?

Dallaney is skulking around the perimeter of the chamber, particularly the
part where Noa isn't at. It's that needle, you know. Passing the side of
Mikani's cot, the kid proffers a wink and half a nod; a pile of clothes still
lie deferred on her own corner of the room.

Dallaney
Short, slightly gaunt around the edges, this adolescent bears Igen's glare in
the burnt brownness of her skin. Uncertain growth has worked away the
childish plumpness from the avid angles of nose and chin, further accenting
pinched features with their harsh planes and abrupt peaks. Below forehead's
darkness, a primal acidity informs her hazel eyes, restrained by stubborn
mahogany curls -- but flaring inevitably into the compact rebellion of a
muscled shape and habitually agile motion.
A robe of light brown, barely feminine, covers most of her long-legged, spare
shape, sending any hints of figure into obscurity. Of Igen make but
self-styled, the linen material sheers ungracefully just above bony kneecaps,
hitched up in folds to allow easier wear and lighter travel. An ungainly, if
quaint, umber belt winds around her waist, binding cloth to flesh and holding
up the robe in ragged manner, keeping it dipping into the dark sandals that
flicker out far below its hem.
A single cord sits on her shoulder, twirling from bedraggled grey to the
pristine white of candidacy.
She is awake and looks alert.

Aire has connected.

Solandat stumps in from outside the barracks, a bit dusty and a bit wet.
Someone else who's been doing the same kind of work might notice the telltale
signs of a floor-scrubber; slightly damp streaks of grime on the knees of his
trous, reddened knuckles, extremely clean and citrine-fresh hands. He ambles
toward his cot and drops with a great gusty sigh onto it.

Aire nyup-nyups from her cot sleepily, clearing her mouth of sleep-fuzz and
wiping amber grains from her eyes. Sure, it's late in the day, but her
biological clock doesn't know - or doesn't care. "Hngwah?" she asks of her
nearest bedmate, straightening out her rumpled tunic.

Mikani, seeing that there doesn't /seem/ to be a reason for themass confusion,
plops down in a chair next to her cot, rubbing absently at the sore muscles
in her arms. Drat those heavy wheelbarrels full of used runner bedding! She
yawns prodigiously.

Chalis just looked at you.

Eyochai has arrived.
Eyochai comes home.

Nitram has arrived.
Nitram comes home.

Aire just looked at you.

A shortish, fuzzy-haired girl is next. The candidate shuffles nervously up to
Noa. "Wha's that? Sandals? What, your footsies can't take a lil' toastin?"
The girl shucks off the sandals, and looks down at the floor. "Sorry, Ma'm."
squeaks the child. Noa snorts. "All the rest is dandy. Next? Robe checks,
robe checks!" The barracks echo with her hollering. If you're not awake yet...

Ekhat has arrived.
Eyochai drops Ekhat.
Mroncae has arrived.
Eyochai drops Mroncae.

You lie down on Dallan's Cot

From Candidate Barracks, Unctuous has arrived.
From Candidate Barracks, Aire drops Unctuous.

From Candidate Barracks, Eyochai arrives only now, looking around the barracks
at apparant mayhem. "What's up?" she wonders at everyone.

You shrug your shoulder, dislodging a chittering Fredo.
You let Zippo dive off his careless perch on your shoulder to zip airborne
with barely a flap.
You release a reluctant Rock.

You stand up from Dallan's Cot with Fredo, Zippo, Rock, and Culpa occupying
it, leaving it.

Aire
Sharp but round - bony but sculpted - Aire's face is still undeniably that of
a kidlet's. Eyes sparkle like sun off white-capping waves - a mischevious
sparkle, to be sure - with a slight upward lilt and a sensible ammount of
framing lashes. Thin nose leads to thin lips, the latter a cheerful cherry
red against her skin's rather conspicuous lack of tanned hue. Close-cropped
curls cap Aire's head with their dark auburn swirls, patiently groomed into a
ring of spit-curls around the edges of face and yet are subject to such
abuses that they require constant attention to stay that way.
It's simple - it's spartan - it's downright ugly. Coarse fabric hangs like a
bag over a shrimpy form, nary a wrinkle, nor a cling, nor a form-fitting dart
gives any indication of the gender of the wearer. Shoulders poke out from arm
circles cut unevenly - one chafes a delicate armpit while the other puckers
from bad seams. Threads dangle at every junction, some tugged to unravel
rather than tickle. Not bothering with a hem, Aire lets jaggedly-cut fabric
lap against her knees, hiding the upper half of chicken legs from the world.
A single loop remains, but this of fresh white, dubbing her dragon-poo
shoveler and tuber peeler until the eggs hatch.
Aire may look a few Turns younger than she is, but mannerisms and general
moodiness suggest blooming adoloscence.
She is awake and looks alert.

Chalis
Warm brown eyes look out as you from a rather delicate face. Freckles happily
dance across a small pleasant nose. Shortly cropped blond hair stands in odd
little spikes all across Chalis' head exposing her small elfin ears.
Highlights are noticeable here and there, almost white streaks compared to
the rest of her hair. The hair is closely cut in the back and left a little
longer near the front so she can spike it. Every so often the few highlights
still noticeable catch a ray of sun and sparkle slightly in the light. She is
well toned and long limbed but still has a few curves here and there. Her
once rather smooth hands have managed to collect a rather interesting bunch
of calluses from all the washing she's had to do as of late.
A rather simple robe of snow white adorns Chalis' slender frame. The robe is
sleevless and rather box like. You see, this little sparklie one can't sew
more than the most simplest of things. Luckily the fabric is rather light so
it doesn't look too uncomfortable. It hangs to just below her knees at about
mid-shin. The waist has been taken in slightly for a little shape which is
helped along with a white cord belt that's haphazardly tied about Chalis'
waist. On her feet are sandals with a slightly thicker sole so her feet
don't get too hot out there on the sands.
She is awake and looks alert.

Nitram
Ebony and ivory contrast each other in the colors of his face; semi-long locks
riding darkly on the paleness of his forehead, falling over cheeks with sharp
'bones and barely brushing clefted chin and square jaws. Pale pools of breezy
blue are set 'neath dark eyebrows, from where a long nose leads down to full
lips. Body is taller than most, and rather lanky, with just a tad of
adolescense's awkwardness.
White, whiter, whitest... and light beyond lightest things. The pristine
fabric of the robe hangs slightly lower on the left side of this candidate's
lanky body than on the right - perhaps due to the rough stitches mending an
obviously old damage on the right shoulder, causing the material to be pulled
up into a knot. With the edge of the robe dangling just around his ankles,
it's easy to see that this candidate has been unadventurous enough to wear
sandals; the thickest-soled ones he could find. Looks like someone isn't up
for scorching his feet on the sands.
A single loop of pristine white snakes its way around his shoulder, denoting
him as a candidate for Igen Weyr's clutch.
He is awake and looks alert.

Eyochai
Steel-whipped gray glitters tempestuously in the glint of almond-shaped
eyes--they narrow gracefully beneath arched brows, and set a feline sort of
regality to her chiseled features. Beauty is a fickle thing, and there's none
of the classic sort to here...merely strong, strong character to etch a
jutting jaw and set of wry-twisted lips. No beak for a nose, but a ski-jump
slope, and high cheekbones set the trend for her lack of much spare flesh.
Wild, wild raven then coils in tumbled curls, a torrent flooding as far as
her shoulder blades, untamed and messy at near any time...that completes the
rather short portrait of this skinny, graceful girl.
White suffuses her, a spiderweb of cloth that drapes her limbs in proper
fragility. The stitching betrays a skill not possessed by Eyo herself; neat
and tight, the seams hug her sides. It's done as a simple shift, sleeveless,
the neckline plunging tastefully, and a belt on the inside -- cleverly done,
with loops and an orange sash that only barely shows -- to keep her hips
well-outlined. The robe goes as far as her knees, and her sandals are the
only really blatant color; bright blue beads line the leather straps. Just
for luck. (Isn't she lucky, to have a weaver as a boy-toy?)

Spindly grace names her somewhere sixteen-ish.
She is awake and looks alert.
She contains her excitement remarkably well for a Candidate with a hatching
looming near.

Dallaney
Short, slightly gaunt around the edges, this adolescent bears Igen's glare in
the burnt brownness of her skin. Uncertain growth has worked away the
childish plumpness from the avid angles of nose and chin, further accenting
pinched features with their harsh planes and abrupt peaks. Below forehead's
darkness, a primal acidity informs her hazel eyes, restrained by stubborn
mahogany curls -- but flaring inevitably into the compact rebellion of a
muscled shape and habitually agile motion.
A white robe webs her in, sticking to shoulders at the seams and flaring
uncomfortably wide at the knee. At the waistline a strip of white cloth
twines, pinning robe to skin; pale yellow flecks the hem as reminder of its
previous owner, the fraying edges a testament to the same. Sleeveless, with
wide holes for her arms, her outfit inevitably brings the scruffiness of this
little scarecrow into sharp relief.
She is awake and looks alert.
Pacing, pacing, tense white over brown.

Noa just looked at you.

"Robes?" squeals Aire, clearing her throat after that first fear-spurred
soprano shout. "Robes, robes, of course. Makes sense. Hatching, robes, yes.
Nobody naked." Babbling away merrily, the girl hunts around under her cot for
the appropriate white garment.

Noa just looked at you.

Eyochai heard that, Aire. She makes a Noise. "Robes? We need robes? I don't
hear any humming..." She sidles for her cot, nonetheless.

Solandat glances up at Aire's squeak, midway through trying to get his boots
off. Feet are growing, doncha know, and they -- the boots -- don't quite
fit. Tug, tug, tug. "Robes?" Tug. Thump. Grateful sigh. He moves to
attack the second foot.

Fredo has arrived.
You shrug your shoulder, dislodging a chittering Fredo.

Eyochai gives up on confirmation. Everyone's getting on robes; so shall she.
She pulls a hide-wrapped lump from under her cot, complete with card and
ribbon, and opens it in a savage tearing. "Sorry Jash," she mutters under her
breath. The whiteness within is cast aside as she strips, and then she's
struggling to get the thing on.

Nitram stomps in behing Eyo, blinking at Aire's shrieking. What's that girl on
about now?? "Robes? What with them? Nothing's happening now." Really. Eesh.
Silly girl. Still, the lad darts for his cot, clutching the white material on
it possessively. His robe. His. No-one touches with their greasy fingers.

Zippo has arrived.
You let Zippo dive off his careless perch on your shoulder to zip airborne
with barely a flap.

Aire gets an elbow tangled briefly in her tunic, attemping to get it off, but
soon throws the robe - the bag - onto her boney shoulders. And it wasn't a
shriek. "Are we allowed to wear socks with our sandals?" she asks in her
sweetest, most acquiescent candidate voice of Noa as she drops her shorts.

Mikani looks around her at the increased bustle. "Robes? Whafor?" But her body
acts of it's own volition, propelling Mikani to the basin where she splashes
water on her face (thank Faranth she showered after cleaning stalls!), to the
towel which she graps to dry herself and back to her press where she pulls
out the white robe. After a long moment in which she grasps the robe to her
bosom, taking deep breaths, she turns away from the bustle in the room, sheds
her clothes and then slips into the robe, figureing that it must be an
inspection to see if they really /had/ made the required garment.

"In-spec-shun." Noa reiterates. She begins to stroll up and down the present
line, sniffing, poking, and snagging loose threads. Upon tugging a certain
thread, one brawny fellow's robe unravvels completley. Noa's blush burns.
"Might wanna fix that there..." Then she coughs, and moves on. "Noo sawks. No
jew-ree. No fluff."

Eyochai gets her elbow stuck in the neckhole. She squeaks, and pauses the
struggle -- despite the fact that she's not completely covered up, and it's a
bit worse than a dress that's slit too high -- to glare at Noa. "Inspection?
All this for an /inspection/. I thought we had a real hatching emergency."
And now she's all indecent. This means war.

Mikani looks up, startled. "No SOCKS??" Her voice scales upwards several
octaves. "But my feet will get all clammy and yucky in my boots if I don't
wear /socks/!"

Aire hops out of her cot and to the foot of her bed, plopping down on the
floor as she unties sandals and obediently peels off her socks. Talk about a
tan line... Pastey white piggies are jammed into her sandals again, the girl
tucking hands at her sides for lack of pockets and tugging at the mangey
fringe of loose threads at the unhemmed bottom of her robe. Noa'll have a
field day with those...

Ulerae has connected.

Nitram makes a disgusted grimace as Noa practically strips that poor guy.
Thank Faranth it wasn't a girl! "Socks are ugly in sandals," he notes to
Aire, and Mikani, with just a touch of amusement. Girls. What to do with
them?

It's just a robe check, right? Dallan backs off anyway, fingers riffling
through her cot and emerging with a folded lump o' white. She shrugs into
her robe, a scowl settling onto the wry lips. "You can do without socks,
just for a day," goes the growl Mikani-wards. And then she scrabbles her
footwear on the floor. Screech.

Noa rocks on her heels, looking all too comfy in her usual outfit. She paid
her robe-wearing dues last round, and now the tables are turned. "Then ditch
the boots, Mik. It ain't hard to figure." Eyo gets a toothy grin. "Jus' as
important as the real thing, Eyo. So sew up that slitty lil' leg-window.
Now."

Solandat has just succeeded in getting his boots off, and stands to attention,
shifting his robe. Ah, robe check, things begin to make sense. Fingers
smooth over the white fabric. "Don't have any sandals," he says. "Can I go
barefoot?" He glances down at his feet, and then grins. "I know it's hot
out there, but I've got calluses..." Glance at Mikani, and a faintly
sympathetic look. Too sweet to be the one to break the news to her...

Eyochai doesn't have a leg window. She has an incorrectly worn robe. She
sticks out her tongue at the gardener -- and considers bribing her way into
Noa's cushy job after she fails to Impress -- and gets it on correctly, tying
the internal belt, and sticking her rear in the air to look under her cot for
her sandals.

Nitram pulls his thick-thick-/thick/-soled sandals out from under his cot and
slips them on after struggling to get the robe over his head. Eek. A little
tight, is it - it fit him before. Maybe he mended it too much? Ahem. No time
for that now. Scowling, the lad gets up from his cot, waiting to be approved
so he can get a nap.

Aline has a light blue barret on her head and a paintbrush with green paint
on it. A fake moustache is placed above her lips as she walks out of a
painting.

Mikani rummages under the bed in a desperate search for sandals. Does she even
/have/ sandals? Wait.. that box that arrived from her da... she never opened
it earlier, just set it in her press because she had to get to the stables
NOW. Rising, she moves swiftly to the press and flings up the lid. Unsteady
fingers fumble at the thong that holds it closed, and she finds within the
package.. sandals! But with thickthick heels, unlike anything Miki's ever
seen before. Nevertheless, she struggles into the unfamiliar footwear.

Aire wiggles her toes in her sandals with a vague grimace at the grittiness,
and the fact that her delicate tooties feel odd. She shoots a look towards
Solandat, somwhere along the lines of, 'Are you mad?!' before eyeing Nitram's
sandals and quipping at him, "What, like you need to be any taller than you
are now?"

Ulerae was here all the time. Honest she was. She was just a little sleepy,
that's all. Ex-headwomanlet's head lifts, cyan gaze flickering sleepily.
"What're we doing?"

Saine has arrived.
Saine comes home.

Nitram grins crookedly at Aire. "For the heat." Seems he's getting too tired
to snap at even that annoying girl, hiding a yawn behind his hand. Alright,
semi-hiding then; leaving no-one to doubt that he's tired.

"Barefoot..." Noa preaches "Is the best ah' ways to go. The lil' ones ain't
wearin' any shoes, so best you not either. Wanna make them feel comfeee.
Y'know?" Fry the candies, the dragons are more usefull anyway. "Now get rid
ah' your lizards too. Stuff em' under the bed, I don' care." She prys a
bronze off one child's unfortunate shoulder, and drops it. Wow.

Mikani is lucky, Mik and Dexter have retreated to the safety of her cot, to
get out of the way of so many candidates bustling about for the surprise
inspection.

Saine has disconnected.

Eyochai finds her sandals. "Aha!" She chortles in triumph, and works on
cramming them on her feet. Unfortunately, Jashan was a bit too complimentary
in judging the size of her feet, and got them too small. Just like a guy.
It's a struggle of Cinderella proportions for her to get them on. She grunts,
at random occasions. Thankfully, the firelizards are off stapled to Boy-Toy's
shoulder. Poor Jashy-dahling.

Saine has connected.

"Barefoot?" Aline is only mildly aghast, caught by her cot with the rest of
the muttering, milling Candi-crowd. "Can't we wear sandles, or boots, or
socks?"

Solandat returns Aire's what-are-you-crazy look with a faint grin, and then,
daringly, a wink. Mad? Maybe. Or maybe he just didn't think to lay hands
on a nice pair of sandals. Noa's comment makes him relax a fraction, and he
shoos Ellia from her perch on his shoulder, making sappy little cooing
noises. "Go on, now, love. Go on. You wouldn't like it anyway, it's hot."

Dallaney's firelizards should stay away, considering the mood she's in.
White-robed, she studies the sandals peeping out from beneath the wide cloth.
Mutter: "I'm keeping mine on." After all the hubbub over sandals, she has to.

Aire isn't exactly /proud/ of her sun-starved, tourist-tanned feet, but she'd
rather not expose them to the deathly head of Sands. Even Solandat's grin
isn't enough to convert her to barefootism.

Eyochai -- finally -- joins Dallaney's sandal club, and gets hers on and
buckled, blue beads and all. For luck. Shhh... "I'm done. Can we go /now/?"
She twitches visibly, paces by her cot.

Noa ends up just waving her hands in a 'whatever' motion. "Good, dandy. Now
take em' off, and go look-up your chores fer' the evening."

Nitram grumbles something that fortunatly isn't loud enough to reach Noa's
ears and moves his hands down to pull at the - uneven - edge of his robe.

Eyochai shoots another glare Noa-wards. Making her go through all that fuss
just for an inspection. Glowerglowerglower. She begins the process of
stripping back down. She gets her elbow stuck on the neckhole again. "Squeak."

Gamma just changed the @party!

Come one! Come all! Eggs are rocking on the sands as we speak! Igen Weyr is
pleased to announce that the Hatching of Sayurith and Sanath's clutch
starting right now! Come join us in the Viewing Galleries (@move me to
#5364) or on the Ledges (#6956). See you there!
Entered by Gamma (#2171) at Fri Jun 1 18:07:30 2001 MDT

Eyochai pauses mid-struggle. "That's loud. Um. Tell me that's not an
earthquake?" She means the thrumming that vibrates the stone, of course.

"Right-o." Ulerae is a moooodel, in her pretty, fairy-white robe, and twirls
once for effect. Eyo gets a blink, head tilted. "What?" She's clever, all
right.

Nitram lets his robe fall again. Uh-oh. "It's the dragons!" lad announces for
those who haven't picked up yet, grabbing a hold of Aire's shoulder in a
frenzy. "They're hatching! The dragons!" Well, technically it's the eggs
that're hatching, but... anything goes.

Aire would've jumped, but for the grace of Faranth and Eyochai. "I think, if
it were an earthquake, we wouldn't be here discussing it," she calls towards
above candidate a little more shrilly than she would've liked.

Saine shakes her head a little too enthusiastically -- it seems someone is a
little too excited. "Nononono!" One no might have surficed. However, Saine
is in a generous mood. "No, it's the --" Aw. Nitram beat her to it, and
gets a pount sent towards him. "Yah, that, they make lots of noise, don't
they, almost enough to give you a headache -- and speaking of headaches, I
don't suppose anyone has one and would like some herbs, y'don't want to go on
the sands with a headache, y'know."

Walls shake, earth quakes, when from their eggs do dragons take... The noise
is unmistakable, in volume and done. The entire desert thrums with draconic
announcement. From a hundred throats erupts that age-old song that deepens
and vibrates as the dragons welcome the newest of Igen's great beasts.

Great. A real hatching emergency, and Eyo is stuck in her robe. With half her
chest left bare by circumstance and armholes. "Um. Good thinking Aire," she
calls back, the very picture of calm, and dignity, and..."Oh bother." A
stitch pops.

Aline frets with her robe, brow twist in confusion ... and then clearing, eyes
going wide. "Faranth! You're /right/, Eyo!"

Mikani is standing there, on foot sandaled, the other sandal held in her left
hand whilst she tries to figure out tha conglomeration that holds the straps
to her feet. "Hatching? Dragons? NOW??" All of the strength fades from her
knees and she plops down on her rump, stunned. "It's really happening."

Solandat starts a little out of his reverie at Nitram's startled announcement.
"They -- what?" Very cogent of him. "Hatch-ing?" The word draws out into
two syllables in his startlement. He takes a step forward, then lurches in
the general direction of Aire. "Now?" Duh.

Dallaney begins to take off her robe, keeping the sandals as promised. And
that's when the peripheral hum starts, edging through even her mind. Too
loud to mistake all at once. "Not now," she grumbles, tossing a glance at
Noa. "Good thing that we're here." So she doesn't have to go through the
robe ritual again.

Noa blinks. "Ah, jus' kiddin.... Put the dang robes back on yourselves, now!
RAHT NOW!" Noa sweeps around the barracks, tieing squealing candidates into
robes of white. "They's gonna pop..."

Nitram starts shaking Aire's shoulder for emphasis, his other hand mindlessly
flairing and brushing against Ulerae. "Yes, hatching..." Blinking as if he
can't believe his own words, the candidate gulps, stomping his feet slightly
to assure that his sandals are on tight.

"Shards." Ulerae swears before she knows it, mouth dropping open and blinking
owlishly. "Um. Mikani?" CandiGirl scoots closer to the fellow Igenite, and
blinks again at Nitram. "That's our cue, right?"

Aire wiggles as her shoulders are shook, ducking under Nitram's arms before
she scurries to Solandat's side. Nitty can chase, if he wants. "Eyochai
promise she'd protect us, right?," comes the hurried whisper to the baker-boy.

Eyochai remains stuck, and so hops over to the door. She's an enterprising
candidates. "Yeah," she hollers at everyone, dittoing Noa. "Let's get going
here!" And, more friendly-like; "Anyone who wants to can stand with me. For,
like, protection, y'know? I won't let any o' those bullying dragonets get far
enough to maul people." Way to take it for the team?

Noa is all but yelling, as the panic ensues. "Get in line, and when you see
the Momma, bow. Got it? She'll eat you dead if'ya don't. Repeat after me now:
bow bow bow. Right." She eyes the mostly undressed candies, and points to the
exit. "Off we go!"

Leseela dashes in from the hall, hair twisted into a towel; another towel
hides her nudity.. just barely. Flinging the body towel onto the cot, she
hurriedly throws the robe over her head, then, looking around her, she wails,
"Can someone tie up my belt?"

K'mra strides in from Northeastern Bowl.

Mikani strolls, hips gently swaying, toward Hatching Sands.

"Bow bow bow," Aline repeats mindlessly, twitching her robe carefully and
twisting to give Leseela's belt a tug. "Here! We've gotta go!" And Saine is
latched on to. "Hold my hand?"

Dallaney grimaces at Leseela, wanders after Mikani. Time.

Noa walks toward Hatching Sands.
Eyochai skulks toward Hatching Sands.
Nitram walks toward Hatching Sands.

Hatching Sands

Black and gold, as striking as those of Igen's colors, intermingle to a
glitter of eye-wrenching brilliance, made all the more intense by the
undulations of heat that reflect from their expanse. Subtle dunes spread
their endless waves about the very immensity of this cavern, as wide in its
width as it is high; the inner walls are made of translucent obsidian,
thinner at the top so the light beats through in brownish-grey pools, and
sets it aglow in sometimes-amber brilliance. Hopes, dreams, fears: all
permeate the aura, and are echoed in the height of the ledges and galleries
alike that add reverberation to its span.

You see Mamma Gamma's SunTent, Suspended Time Egg, Only Time Will Tell Egg,
Time Flies When You're Having Fun Egg, All In Good Time Egg, Let's Do The
Time Warp Again Egg, This Thing All Things Devours Egg, Time Waits For No Man
Egg, A Watched Pot Egg, and Carpe Diem Egg here.
G'min, Leigha, Siobhan, Sh'lor, Gamma, Mikani, Noa, Eyochai, and Nitram are
here.
The following dragons are here: Sayurith, Eratoth, and Sanath
From here you can go:
Galleries                  Stands

Dallaney
Short, slightly gaunt around the edges, this adolescent bears Igen's glare in
the burnt brownness of her skin. Uncertain growth has worked away the
childish plumpness from the avid angles of nose and chin, further accenting
pinched features with their harsh planes and abrupt peaks. Below forehead's
darkness, a primal acidity informs her hazel eyes, restrained by stubborn
mahogany curls -- but flaring inevitably into the compact rebellion of a
muscled shape and habitually agile motion.
A white robe webs her in, sticking to shoulders at the seams and flaring
uncomfortably wide at the knee. At the waistline a strip of white cloth
twines, pinning robe to skin; pale yellow flecks the hem as reminder of its
previous owner, the fraying edges a testament to the same. Sleeveless, with
wide holes for her arms, her outfit inevitably brings the scruffiness of this
little scarecrow into sharp relief.
She is awake and looks alert.
With no time for thought, she hovers, tensely alive.

Saine stumbles in from Candidate Barracks.
May walks in from Candidate Barracks.
Solandat lopes coltishly in from Candidate Barracks.
Ulerae perambulates amiably in from Candidate Barracks.
Aire shuffles in from Hatching Grounds Entrance.

Carpe Diem Egg wants to rock! Wants to roll! It's Time! It's time! Shake shake
shake your booty, bebbie! From the splash of eggs upon the sand, one in
particular rattles to the surface, sand slipping from it. Sieze the Day!

Aline walks with a sense of half-insecurity, half-courage, in her steps in
from Candidate Barracks.

Eratoth rumbles as he settles down, apart from the eggs, but somehow, in the
most perfect lighting for his bronzen form. See? Innit he perfect? His
rider turns his head. "May? No, I haven't seen her." Then he pauses,
grinning as he sees the first of the white clad amble in. "I believe she's
there, sister, dear."

May hops out onto the sands and smiles brightly to the leaders present. All
decked out in white for the first time she seems rather proud and not at all
intimidated by the occasion. She's one of the first out to bow in front of
Saab and Sayurith, a beaming smile aimed at her mother before she takes up a
place near her most promising gold egg. There /is/ one here you know, or at
least May is determined to believe there is. Sayurith just doesn't know,
she's a young gold, she could make that mistake, its possible! Or so May is
grasping at those straws.

Chalis walks in from Candidate Barracks.
K'mra strides in from Candidate Barracks.

Mikani makes her way in with the first batch of Candidates, Dallaney on her
right, Ulerae on her left. She continues to hold hands with them right up
until the very last minute, before she dips in a bow of respect to Weyrwoman
and Queen, bronzerider and sire.

Nitram practically stumbles onto the sands, clinging tightly to Aire and
Ulerae not to fall flat on his face in front of the whole weyr. Eesh. Good
start. Since he's already halfway down, the candidate makes a rather clumsy
bow out of it, managing to direct it to clutchmomma and daddy before
scrambling into place in the circle of white-robes.

Chalis bows deeply to the Queen, her mate and tier riders

Eyochai makes her Dramatic Entrance onto the Sands in full hatching regalia;
her robe's only half on, with her elbow stuck in an inconvenient headhole,
and a bit too much flesh exposed. She hobbles past the queen -- it could be
construed as a bow, but knowing Eyo, that motionp robably isn't -- and plants
herself at a nice place at the head of the prospective half-circle. She's
enterprising. Now it's a matter of getting her robe straight. She pauses to
glare up at the galleries, where she /knows/ that Weaver-boy who made it for
her is laughing.

Saine's feet just don't seem to be obeying her commands today. One foot seems
to think that it's dancing the tango, while the other definantly has a rumba
on its mind. Never-the-less Saine manages to bow without completely making a
fool of herself and falling. Meanwhile, her lips are constantly moving,
voice a low mutter. She's babbling again.

Hah. Ulerae's made it this far, dragging out after Nitram and Mikani and
squeezing their hands as she dips in a semi-graceful bow -- or, at least, as
graceful as one can be while sizzling and beading sweat. "Hey, look. They're
moving."

Aire half-skips, half-trips, half-bows -- three halves? why not? - as she
makes her way onto the sand, finding it disturbingly yeilding under her feet.
Scuttling after Eyochai, she flutters as helpfully as a palace courtesan,
trying to help her fellow candidate with her robe in the way of
encouragement. "If you just duck your head in and poke it through over there,
or pull in your arms and turn it around..."

"Saine!" Aline minces along the end of the pack, following after several
candidates and sketching a wobbly bow before Sayurith. "Wait up!" Don't leave
her behind?

Sh'lor slides an arm around Siobhan's waist, watching the candidates with ice
blue eyes, the slightest hint of a wince crosses his face at Nitram's
stumble-bow, before his gaze shifts on to examine other candidates. Behind
him, near Sayurith, Sanath's thrumming grows in intensity, adding a deep,
strong baseline to the voices of the weyr's dragons.

K'mra comes last, ushering the last of the scraggling candidates onto the
sands. "Do your thing," the brownrider commands crisply of the whiny,
pimply-faced young boy she practically prods through the entrance before
scooting over towards the other riders and offering a faint grin. "Hey."
She takes the time to survey the rocking eggs, then, and cheerily calls for
Siobhan, "Nice batch Sayurith's got, here."

Noa leads in the line of candidates, unravled, rag-tag, stumbling...
perfection. She bends in bow to the largest, goldest of the dragons. The big
shiny one. "Here they is... Thanks fer' letting them come, yah." A final
glance of pride, and Gardener flees to the outskirts of the sands. "Do good!"

This Thing All Things Devours Egg shifts one last time, unsettled and
unsettling as the myriad of half-formed figures collapse and crumble, shell
disintegrating into the sand as time proves fatal. Shards scatter, forgotten
as the new, emerging life, Mad Scientist Jekyll-Hyde Brown Hatchling takes
precedence.
Mad Scientist Jekyll-Hyde Brown Hatchling
Rich chestnut brushes over elegant, fine-boned features, gilding the angular
head with the opulent tones of cognac and amber while blackened walnut lurks
among the menacing steeples of sharply pointed neckridges and augments the
spars of voluminous wings, ebbing away as henna and hazel intermingle upon
diaphanous sails. Sienna sweeps up from the rugged chest, settling over
rounded shoulders and lavishing the lithe, lean frame with creamy hues that
gradually deepen; chocolate drizzles upon haunches before abandoning
conformity with a violent spray of ebon that overtakes the whipcord tail. A
rhapsody of mahogany and umber binds sleek, sculpted musculature in
contrasting cloaks of light and dark, playing along lengthy limbs in dual
sheets before ultimately melding at curvaceous sides in an exquisite marbling
of completely unique disparity.

The heat of the sands starts to penetrate leather clad tootsies and May begins
the almost traditional "ouchie, my feet hurt." dance. She handles it a little
better than most though, being used to such occasions as she practically grew
up doing this with Gamma on the sands. The excitement begins to get to her
though and she hovers over that egg with the yellow in it, as if by pure will
power it will hatch a rukbat kissed dragonet. "Come on already... hatch!"
impatient little thing that she is. But her egg is not to come first.

Eyochai isn't good at accepting help. However, she does this Not Accepting
nicely, because Aire's such a good kid. Therefore, she shuffles to the side
subtle-like, and continues her struggle over there. "I'm okay..." Her voice
wafts from between folds of cloth. "Just don't go anywhere, okay?"

Dallaney emerges, frayed robe and all dragging down into a deep bow for queen
and sire, riders and their 'mates. She nearly stumbles then, hand loosely
linked with Mikani's. Nearly forgets to eye the galleries as the first
hatches. "Hrm," is all the comment she can spare.

Saine starts, and glances behind her, cheeks flushing with colour. "Uh,
sorry, my feet seem to be on automatic, and I didn't think, and despite what
Master Iylle says I do normally think and it's just --" Um. Yeah. Saine
shuts up, and waits up for Aline, a fact which might have /something/ to do
with the mad scientist and Saine's oggling tendencies.

May squeaks as the first dragon hatches, not expecting the feelings to be so
different when its /her/ that's actually white clad and waiting for a
lifemate. But its a /brown/, not a gold. So he is admired but firmly, or as
firmly as she thinks possible, detoured from even the possibility of bonding
to her mind.

Eyochai doesn't see the brown. Probably the best thing for her, considering
all the gambling she's done on the fact that the first-hatching egg was going
to hatch a bronze. Too ugly for anything else, see. She'll undergo cardiac
arrest later, when her butt isn't in danger of exposure.

Only a moment passes from the time she speaks of her errant child until she
arrives in the form of May, but Gamma doesn't see her at first, her hand set
to brow above squinting eyes. She smiles up at the stands, waves to Toria, or
whomever would wave back, and it's only /then/ that her arrogant daughter
struts in front of her. With a shake of her head, she leans into Leigha and
says, "I've told that dear child repeatedly there is no gold in this clutch."

Let's Do The Time Warp Again Egg jitters, and judders, and sways dangerously
before tipping into a roll, tumbling over onto its side. Fairly quivering
with suppressed energy, someone inside is making a spirited, if uncoordinated
effort to break out.

Nitram practically squeaks as the first egg hatching. "It hatched!" Apparently
he's the self-announced announcer of all things that happen - it should be
obvious to everyone that there's now a dragonet on the sands, shouldn't it?
"It's a brown," candidate goes on, quietly this time, and bites his lip.

Aline gapes. Appropriately. "A brown!" Babbling is perfectly fine with the
Candidate, tugging on a Saine-arm and chattering slightly. "Lookit him! He's
all brown, and so many colors, and he's so big and strong and--" The
conversation continues from there.

Aire has a bit of trouble picking out the wet hatchling forms on the Sands,
ones like the brown, who're dark and hard to see on same-valued Sands. "What
is it, Eyochai?" asks the girl from standing catty-corner to Chick With Robe
Issues. Motion attracts her eye - the bouncing egg - and she shivers. Are
they /supposed/ to do that?

Noa goes home.

Mikani turns her head first this way and then that way, watching the
trembling eggs with wide eyes. When the first dragonet hatches, her hands
involuntarily tightening on those of Ulerae and Dallaney. "Ule, Dallan, look
at him. Wow." Which just goes to show ya; some people, when faced with the
real thing, say the most /obvious/ things.

Leigha rolls her eyes then winks, supporting the lean with one of her own.
"Aye," she nods in agreement, though steel gray eyes are sparkling. "But
she's just like her mother, methinks - has to find that out for herself."

"Imagine that." Ulerae is appropriately admiring, nudging Nitram, and then
Mikani in agreement. "It did hatch." And a change of topic mid-mindset: "Hot
out here, ain't it?"

Leseela, after her bows to Queen Saurith and the rest, finds herself alone;
looking about, she spies Aline. "Mind if I stand with you?"

Siobhan can't take her eyes off of the perfect brown just hatched before he.
"Good size to him, isn't there," she comments, as proud of her lifemate as
can be.

Mad Scientist Jekyll-Hyde Brown Hatchling squawks loudly with the indignance
of it all -- eggs are not supposed to deposit important beings such as he
flat on their faces. But that's just how the brown makes his
less-than-perfect entrance, sprawling head-first. Quickly, he picks himself
up and shakes himself off as best as he can, turning 'round to investigate
the remains of his egg. After poking his muzzle amidst the shards and
snorting up plenty of sand, he deduces that there's more important things to
be looking at and marches off purposely, heading for the candidates.

Solandat hop-skips, sticking close to Aire, arranging himself near to Eyochai
as well. He bows to the dam and sire as best he can, considering he's excited
and a bit flustered. And when that egg cracks, well... eyes widen. "Oh,
look." Wow. Look. Eyes are wide and surprised. It's much different from
this close.

Chalis reaches up and twists one of her spikes again, staring hard at the
rocking eggs

G'min snorts softly in Gamma's direction. "Sometimes I think she's too much
like her mother. Won't listen to good sense." He just sort of beams in the
weyrwoman's direction

A Watched Pot Egg budges a little bit, but then quickly stops, when it
realizes there are people looking at it. It'll hatch when it's good and ready
to! And not a moment sooner!

Aire hears snippets of conversation slandering the egg she so admired. The one
that didn't try to dress itself up pretty in colors, and was frightful like a
proper dragon. "What? What is it?" She hops like a young child, demanding in
much the same tone of voice. Sands're hot, though, and the bouncing helps her
searing toes.

Dallaney bobs just a little in the sand, the strap of her new sandals catching
painfully in her murmur. "Wonder where /he's/ going to." The boy on her
other side gets a shove for backing into her, but resignation comes too, as
both shuffle to complete the ragged candidate-line.

Gamma coughs at Leigha's comment, a sort of grunt, really, and quite
unladylike. Without looking at the woman, laughter consuming her eyes but
evident nowhere else on her harper- trained expression, she reaches
imperceptibly behind the brownrider to brush her fingertips against Leigha's,
almost entwined. "I think she got her arrogance from her father and uncle,
actually." She glances over at G'min. Touche'

Nitram wants to scowl at the hatchling, but it turns out to be a half-scare,
half-awed look, mainly in fear of antagonizing momma-queen. "He's fairly
good, I guess," is said to no-one in particular - and whoops, did that come
out just a little too loud? Ahem. Aire's hand is loosened on, and Ulerae's
tightened on. He needs his balance.

Saine nods her head in eager agreement; it almost seems like someone's
replaced her neck with a spring. "Yah! It's brown, really brown, although
you'd think that it wouldn't think that the egg shards and sand and all that
wasn't tastey -- is that what it's doing, no, it isn't, it's moving, I think,
isn't it Aline, it's moving isn't it?" Rudely, she lifts a hand and points
towards the scientist, before her swinging around to aim towards the Watched
Pot. "Look! That egg, moved, too."

Let's Do The Time Warp Again Egg jitters once more, quivering.
Gottahatchgottahatch! In fact...

Eyochai manages to get her elbow in the right place, but not before the head
hole ends up over her heart for a few lovely seconds. She's scrawny, so maybe
no one saw anything, but she's still a bit red-faced when she gets it in the
right place, and begins straightening things, tying that secret orange belt,
digging her blue-beaded sandals into the sand in an effort to stay sane. And
then she looks at eggs'n'dragons. "Oh," she says with some disappointment. "A
brown. What egg was it from, Aire? Solandat?"

Let's Do The Time Warp Again Egg pulses frantically along its purple streaks,
throbbing with the likeness of a witch's gleeful cackle; cracks appearing in
the spiral wonder famous of the almost painful shell, all of the once
maddening opposites begin to melt, running together into a blissful, peaceful
neutrality...that is, until Eccentric Dr. Who Blue Hatchling tumbles out,
sending egg shards spiraling in a whorl of newfound chaos.
Eccentric Dr. Who Blue Hatchling
Pastel sky weaves over much of his willowing frame, breezing through clouds of
powdered baby blue highlights and ghostly lilac shadows before splashing a
warm band of opalescence thickly into the azure expanse of his elongated
limbs and melting down to milk-bathed sock paws and spicular claws of
polished silvery dove. Above his proudly-arched neck, ticklish lavender
teases the gentle twilight headknobs and trickles into an accent of
exaggerated eyeridges in refined, eccentric traces; here the elliptical
contours of his wedge-shaped head define a permanent countenance of surprise
above his blunt-nosed muzzle startled with a contrast of inky sapphire. Gaunt
frames stretched to a spiderwebbed sprawl of spiral eruptions of curious
violet surging forth from unseen inner thresholds toward powerful mainstay
tips, his wings burst from his body down a lengthy backside in a jagged
struggle of wild audacity, hushed only by a delicate misting of lucid,
translucent cyan.

Aline bobbles her head in echo of Saine, Saine-hand now clenched tightly as
her tongue flickers nervously out over parched-ish lips. "I think so, I
really do. They're all sorta wobbling, but that one's moving to, and /that/
one--" the Time Warp Egg is noted. "--is really ... it hatched! Hey! Blue!"

"The ugly one!" Aire supplies with a note of triumph, finally finding the dark
brown upon glittering sands. "And he's properly ominous," comes another note
of approval from her lips, "with fangs and shadows and the whole shebang.
Dunno what you all see in the pretty ones." A snort issues; she's back to her
original self.

Suspended Time Egg holds a quiet, constant quiver- Caught and held in this
moment, for eternity.

Solandat hops from foot to foot. Foot to bare foot, remember. "What is
what?" he asks Aire, glancing briefly down at his feet and wincing. Maybe
sandals would have been a good idea, hey? "Um, um..." Brows furrow in
response to Eyochai's question. "I don't remember. It was kind of dark and
splotchy, I think...?" That could describe a lot of them, though. Eyes peer
in distracted scrutiny at the next one. "A blue."

G'min just grins back at Gamma. "My dragon is more arrogant than I am."
Which isn't saying very much, since Eratoth is /not/ the most humble of
dragons.

Mikani follows the brown's movements for a moment before the rocking of one of
her favorite eggs draws her attention. After watching it for several minutes,
she comes to the conculsion that it isn't going to hatch NOW, and turns her
attention to the wildly gyrating egg which shatters and dislcoses.. a blue!
And that brown is headed with some serious intent towards the Candidates.

Ulerae doesn't mind her hands being squished. Honestly, she doesn't need them
for anything -- except, maybe, doing a lot of things. But the CandiGirl just
wiggles her hand slightly, wrinkles her nose, and tips an appreciative nod to
the blue. "See him? D'you like him better?"

Leigha doesn't mind the touch, and returns the caress as she grins at G'min.
"Really?" she asks, eyes dancing as she recalls her years of association with
the bronzerider.

Time Waits For No Man Egg decides that it can wait. Yup. No wild gyrations
here.

Nitram shrugs at Ulerae, assuming he's the one she's talking to. "I don't
know. He's blue." No, /really/? Look who's really caught up now. "Blue's
fine. I know a bluerider." Gee, and he lives in a Weyr. How strange. But it
seems that random comments will help out this candie-lad, so let him ramble.

Mad Scientist Jekyll-Hyde Brown Hatchling simply can't make up his mind and he
doesn't get very far before doubling back. Here! No, there! Indecisive and
torn between one way and the other, the brown comes to a complete halt and
peers about confusedly, warbling his discontent. The brown takes to pacing
since both sides look appropriately interesting, shuffling along and
gradually coming closer and closer to the white-robed things. When one gets
too near, the dragon reaches out in an attempt to snag a talon on the fabric
and snaps nastily; the boy promptly hastens away unscathed and, satisfied,
the brown returns to his pacings. There. That'll teach them.

Chalis looks at the new hatchlings, awe apparent on her face

Eyochai knows that egg. She kicks the sand, sends up a spray. "Durn. That one
was s'posed to be bronze. Our next precocious weyrleader-lordling. And it
would Impress some scrawny guy. Someone I could /kick/." She can't abuse
Sh'lor besides verbally, see. "Ah, well. He's interesting." The blue,
however, attracts a bit more attention. She's biased, see. "He's cute," she
notes. "If he goes to some busty girl, remind me to get her name, okay?"

Lah'i huffs in from Hatching Grounds Entrance.

K'mra somehow managed to hear Meri, even if the Telgari greenrider was way up
in the ledges, and after peering about in an attempts to locate the other,
Kym spies and throws off a beam and a wave. Then, attention returns to the
hatching dragons and the brownrider comments for whoever's around to listen,
"I like that brown."

Aire decides to be charitable; the heat must have gone to her brain. "Alright,
so that blue's /almost/ kinda sorta maybe pretty. In the way those southern
felines are kinda sorta maybe pretty." This is confided to candidates within
earshot - she's mostly talking to hear her own voice. Just then, girl spots
the robe-snagging job the brown pulls, and muffles an 'eep'. Eyochai's
comment is more interesting anyhow; she didn't know the candidate played for
the other team...

Saine jumps, twisting in an attempt to glance towards the said blue. "A blue?
Where? Where? Oh, there it is, that's the one, isn't it, the one that you
were looking at -- oh, I guesss there's no other blues on the sands at the
moment, I think, so..." She seems to be bouncing up and down, at the moment,
but whether that's from excitement, the heat of the sands, or her feet
working independantly is anyone's guess. "Hey! Did you see that, what the
brown did to that boy -- yo! Are you okay, there? What's his name again,
Aline, and I'd better not get the chore to fix that robe after all this,
cause if I do, I'm going to well, talk, to that brown, and..." Voice seems
to be working faster than her mind; Saine doesn't actually seem to realise
that after this hatching, she's not going to be a candidate, no matter what
happens.

Solandat lifts his eyebrows at Aire, giving her a startled and very amused
look. "Fangs and claws? You don't sound properly terrified." At her next
comment, a nod, "Shimmery, sort of." He sighs, fair quivering with
excitement, eyes tracking that brown back and forth. Best to be careful,
after all. A glance at Eyochai, and then a grin. "Had it all figured out, I
see. Well, who knows, another scrawny guy might Impress bronze." He glances
surreptitiously toward Nerkin.

Gamma thinks /everyone/ has had "associations" with Bronzerider G'min. Raising
one arm, she points to the egg in the center, the one wriggling. "I like that
one the best." Fingers entwine behind Leigha's back. "I think it's as
impatient as Spec was in the egg."

Dallaney twitches one shoulder. "Could be yours," she teases the kid at her
side. And she means the blue, even; the boy is still shrinking back from
watching the last close shave with brown. "Shouldn't go near to 'em at all."
And what if her fingers clasp just a mite tighter from one hatchee to the
next--

K'mra hasn't had associations with bronzerider G'min, thank you, and nor does
she plan on it. She's sworn off bronzeriders for life. They're bad for your
sanity.

Eccentric Dr. Who Blue Hatchling tumbles out of his shell with a spray of
sand, scrambling madly to right himself, and going down all over again in a
tangle of legs, tail, wings, and limbs he didn't even know he had. So much
to see! So much to do! First, he'd better get all these appendages sorted
out. And as soon as he's done that, he's going to explore. Yes, that's
right! There are so many things out there to see. Finally struggling to his
feet, he sets off down a small dune, wearing a small cap of eggshell that is
settled rakishly to one side. A quick glance back at his dam and sire, and
he's off to explore. Perhaps here.... although look at that. And that, and
there are those big white things over there...

And health.

Lah'i pretends not to have noticed Gamma's comment - but does end up looking
slightly guilty.

Eyochai plays for both teams. She would never let herself be pinned down to
one. Too restrictive. She's all about freedom, no matter how many times she
has to be kidnapped to prove that point. "Felines are gorgeous," she protests
to Aire. "Especially the Southern ones."

Conflicting thoughts are finally pushed aside as Mad Scientist Jekyll-Hyde
Brown Hatchling makes up his mind, once and for all. Unwavering, he heads
straight for Aire without sparing glances in other directions; no, his focus
is firmly fixated upon the girl with the auburn curls and he refuses to be
diverted or sidetracked. When at last the brown halts before the candidate,
he sizes her up before crooning authoritatively, determining that he's found
the perfect partner for his endless scheming and experiments -- indeed, the
perfect partner for life.

"Aire!" Shrill. Ulerae bounces brightly, tanned face split by beam as she
tooth-flashes the girl. "Excellent!" Now that Aire's a rider, she can have
frilly, lacy underthings.

Eyochai steps aside. Incoming! "Aire!" she squeaks, startled. Surprised.
Trying to sound calm with joy. It's hard, but she's getting better. "What's
his name?"

May finds her new yellow egg to fawn over until it hatches, quite a few others
having already popped and leaving her with fewer and fewer choices. But, just
as she takes up residence an impression is made, "Oh Aire! Congratulations!"
she cheers for her fellow candi and the little brown.

Saine could do with some hints from the blue on how to get those legs to work
-- at the moment, her legs are crossed. She's in almost constant motion,
wiggling, wobbling, wringing her hands, waving wildly at random figures in
the galleries who probably don't know her. So much energy, and it's just
making her voice work at a hundred miles an hour -- "Aire? Aire? Is that
brown, Aire, doing, y'know, is it -- Aline..." It's a whine. "What
happened?"

A Watched Pot Egg potters a little bit, then teeters and rocks. And since no
one's paying attention, it decides that now is the moment. Hel-LO world!

To and fro rocks A Watched Pot Egg, simmering upon the heat of the surrounding
Sands. It hesitates only momentarily before it boils over, shards and goo
flying every which way to leave Intrepid Clark Savage Blue Hatchling standing
in its wake.
Intrepid Clark Savage Blue Hatchling
Bluesteel and ice chisel power the gleaming sapphire purity of his intrepid
bulk with metallic scintillations of light that shimmer into rime at the very
edges of the transparent icicles cresting into neckridges along his back and
neck. Crackling upwards to a hoary fan of brow ridges, a frost-splashed
window of a mask across crystalline eyes and a broad, strong-jawed head, the
tundra ridges sweep downward, too, into a muscular tail glimmering to the
spade in a glistening of frozen cobalt. Wings whipped in gunmetal gleamings
encase all, their brushed turquoise sails bursting against crystalline spars
in an edged floe of lustrous chill that dissolves into the heated steel of
undaunted hindquarters.

Aire explains the logic of her bravaura to Solandat: "See, that's because the
brown's over /there/ -" And hence harrassing some other sucker. "- and not
here. And..." Oops. "Hullo," she mutters inanely, looking down at the dark
muzzle in front of her. Eyochai's failure as a guardian is ignored in the
light of his eyes. "Aidubaith. /Aidubaith/. Lovely," she admits, with a dark
chuckle.

Mikani herself has probably squeezed more than her fair share on the hands of
her fellow candidates; in fact, she doesn't even seem to feel her hands at
all, so entranced is she with the spectacle on the sand. "Look at that blue!
He's wearing his shell like it's a cap!" Eyes track the brown's progress, and
when he halts in front of Aire, she jumps up, freeing her hands to clap
wildly. "Yay, Aire!"

Nitram clutches hard on Ulerae's hand. /Hard/. "...!" As the brown goes for
Aire standing next to him, the candidate simply scoots away from her. "Uh,
uh, Aire..." ... Impressed? Smart lad.

Solandat scoots out of the way with a quick, "Aire, hey, he's coming this --"
Eyes widen as he realizes that that was the dragonet's goal. Jaw drops, and
then clunks suddenly closed; the 'ugly' one, eh? "Aire! Aire!
Congratulations!" His grin spreads, suddenly sunlight-like and huge.

Leigha grins and squeezes Gamma's hand before heading off to collect the first
of her new charges. "Aire? Bring Aidubaith over here, out of the way, so
that you can get better acquainted with him," she calls, indicating that the
new weyrling pair is to join her near the entrance to the bowl.

Dallaney's eyes are wide. Very much so. "Look it's that..." she trounces
past a few words, pausing on the next. "Aire. Looks like a good match to
me." She puts on a quick smile that doesn't quite pass, then settles for a
grin instead. "Aidu-something."

Eyochai lets go of joy -- into the garbage can, now -- to glare at the brown.
"Why couldn't you have waited a bit longer? Now I look bad." She manages to
look properly miffed, hurt, and saddened. It's an effort, I tell ya. "You
think we should try and take her back?" she wonders Solandat-wards.

Intrepid Clark Savage Blue Hatchling is more graceful coming out of his shell
than those before, letting it spill him out to land gracefully on his feet. A
quick canine-like shake sends a couple of shell-shards and a bit of egg go
flying away from his body, his eyes ablaze with red hunger already as he
inspects the crowd of Candidates over there. He already knows where he needs
to go. Now, the question remains: to which part?

"Aiiiiiire!" Aline squeaks fitfully, stamping her foot with a bright beam
Aire-ways. "You did it! What a lovely name! Did you hear, Saine? Aidubaith.
Aidubaith. Isn't that pretty? Do you think all the dragons here will have
such pretty names?" Chatter. Chatter.

Time Flies When You're Having Fun Egg wigglybounces. And jigglyshakes.
Tingling vibrations blend swirls of rainbow color, the bubbling excitement
boiling to the point of absolute escape - almost.

Eccentric Dr. Who Blue Hatchling sneezes, sending his little eggshell cap
flying towards a candidate from Boll, who cops it fair on the noggin.
Completely innocent of the fact that he's caused such woe, the little blue
tramps forth, leaning forward to peek at a tall miner lad. He doesn't even
manage to complete his inspection, though, before he's prancing off, head
darting this way and that as he attempts to see everything at once. Perhaps
he shouldn't attempt to prance, for he nearly stumbles, recovering just in
time. Such a small setback is no problem at all, though, and he continues on
his search, narrowing it slightly, as he heads for a pair of girls. He's
handling his feet so well, perhaps he should start handing out lessons...

Gamma peers across the sand at Dallaney and leans toward G'min. "He should
move closer to the eggs. I don't think the dragons can see him." Yep,
Dallaney. Letting her hand fall to her side as Leigha leaves, she places the
other hand over her brow as a visor. "Where is Eos, anyway. Has anyone seen
her?"

Ulerae yelps suddenly. "Nitram! Careful!" Broken fingers do no Candidate any
sort of good. "Ooo. Another blue. And that one -- is he going--" Stare.
Blink. At least she's tracking.

May contemplates kicking the potential goldie egg to get it to hatch quicker,
its doing all that wiggling and not a crack has creased its surface! She
crosses her arms and grumps, looking around for any other potentials, its
/got/ to be here somewhere, /she/ will not be left on the sands! Not May, she
cant! She's May! But there are still a lot of eggs left to hatch, so her
panic is only beginning to creep in.

Solandat is still watching Aire with a grin -- a big, sloppy, puppy-dog grin,
mind you -- so it takes him a moment to register Eyochai's comment. "Take
her back? YOu want to try to take her from that brown? I don't." He looks
vaguely amused, before heat on the soles of his feet distracts him again.
"Ooh, ouch. That one really looks like he knows where he's going." His nod
indicates the newly-hatched blue.

Siobhan's breath catches as the brown Impresses, and indeed, as impresions
begin to happen all over the Sands. "I - it's beautiful," she murmurs,
hugging Sh'lor impulsively, her radiant smile bathing him in its' glow.

Lah'i slips up next to K'mra, glancing up toward the galleries every two
seconds to check up on a certain little infant who needs protecting from the
other brownrider's evil plans.

From Sky Above Hatching Grounds, Sivadath has arrived.
From Sky Above Hatching Grounds, Sivadath effortlessly proceeds with the
gentle cusp of cinnamon-specked 'sails toward Viewing Ledges.

Kora walks in from Hatching Grounds Entrance.

Eos treks in from Hatching Grounds Entrance.

Saine's mouth works around the name. "Adibaith, you said, oh, no, Aiduaith --
that's gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous." One foot is on edge, twisted
awkwardly, the other turned at right-angles, so that Saine looks like the
merest breath of wind would be enough to make her toople. Head twists back,
away from Aire, towards the blue, and her eyes cross. Or at least, that's
what it looks like. Maybe it's just meant to be a piercing look? "Hey,
Aline --?"

Aidubaith whuffles under Aire's hand as he slinks a soggy wing around her
back, claiming her with a faint baring of fangs towards Eyochai. He's all
smiles for Aire, however, whatever growly noises he makes at Solandat. Best
/respect/ the dragon.

Nitram winces at Ulerae. "Sorry..." He sounds sincere enough, though his eyes
and otherwise attention are on the remaining eggs and dragonets.
Please/hatch/ so he can off these sands and into a /cold/ bath. Heat. Bad.

Eyochai is all too willing to have an Opinion on the blue. "Maybe he does.
Silly of him to decide already, though. I bet he's just pretending, so he can
scare us all into nightmares of non-impression." She grins toothily. "Won't
work, though. I know what he's up to, see." And then; "Yeah, why not? We had
her first."

Sh'lor nods what must be approval to Aire and Aidubaith's pairing, arms going
around Siobhan as he returns her smile. "Sayurith and Sanath haven't done
badly, I think." Stern bronzerider is openly smiling, arms remaining around
his weyrmate as he watches more dragonets break shell, and hunt for their
lifemates.

Chalis twists harder at her spikes and moves a few steps toward the dragons

Eos steps onto the sands, shielding herself from the reflective glare of
Igen's fervent sands as she all but rushes toward Siobhan and Gamma, her
fellow goldriders. Without bothering to explain her tardiness, the weyrwoman
assumes a stance besides the two and patiently watches the hatching's
progression.

Just because K'mra's evil doesn't mean that she has plans of stealing
children, really. In between eying the dragons and candidates and watching
out for any maulings, the brownrider grins over at Lah'i, saying simply,
"Isn't it nice not to be fat anymore?"

Solandat simply shakes his head at Eyochai, grinning. Still grinning. This
is a semi-perpetually expression for Solandat, really. "Maybe." A chance
glance back at Aire wipes the grin off, if briefly. Respect the dragon,
right. Respect the dragon. Especially growly dragons.

Leseela finally drops Aline's hand, to wipe the anxious sweat form her
appendages onto the ragged hem of her robe. "Look, the brown Impressed to
Aire. Yay, Aire! And Aiu.. Aidu.. yay, Aire!" After a few attempts at
pronouncing Aire's lifemates name, she gives up and and just calls out
congratualtions to fellow Candidate again, before offering now-dried hand
Aline-wards again.

Kora waits quietly a little apart from the nearest white-robed figures to her.
She appreciates the heat of the sands coming up from her feet but pushes a
strand of hair out of her eyes, the better to see everything going on around
her.

Lah'i is too protective to take any chances. Despite her position of
non-candidacy, her feet are busy doing the candi-dance. "Indeed. I still have
some left over, though, that I need to work off."

Intrepid Clark Savage Blue Hatchling sniffs at the sands for a moment, as
though there might be moer of a hint there. No, not there. Everything smells
like sand to him. Then, another raise of his head, and those eyes lie on
several groups of Candidates, singling a few out, before he finally start his
approach. Slow and deliberate. He knows where he's going, now.

Dallaney wouldn't mind being mistaken for a boy -- bronze would do just fine,
but she's occupied with staring and commenting at the moment. The other side
now. "Isn't that the egg, one of those you liked?" she hisses at Mikani,
chin jerking out at the nearest.

Eyochai bares her fangs right back at Aidubath. Too bad human teeth don't get
that long. If she were a rabbit, now, she could really have an impressive
pair, right until the moment where her teeth poked her eyes out. Or
something. "I wish they'd hurry up," she says restlessly, nodding at all the
eggs that haven't hatched. All of them. "I need to go steal Noa's job once
this is done." She has a big agenda, and all. "She's too bossy for it."

Leigha continues to beckon to Aire and Aidubaith, gesturing for them to come
off the Sands and get out of the way of the myriad hatchlings now swarming
the white robes. "Aire! This way!" she calls, her stentorian voice quite
evident above the bustle on the Sands.

Aline blinks owlishly, again, chatter dribbling off as she gives Saine a big,
blank look. "Yeah, Saine? Whassamatter?"

K'mra just grins and dimples and tries her best to look innocent. "Yeah. Me
too. But I'm getting back to normal, little by little." She pauses, then
wagers, "I bet that egg over there'll hatch blue. Bet you a mark."

All In Good Time Egg just shakes. Just a bit, without an ounce of urgency
within despite the chaos developing about it.

Aire and Aidubaith were just busy anti-socializing, that's all. The pair
begins to shuffle-hop-hobble across the sands, angling towards Leigha, and
future food.

Time Flies When You're Having Fun Egg wiggles at the word 'bet'. Coincidence?

Eccentric Dr. Who Blue Hatchling prances along once more, steadfastly refusing
to notice the fact that his choice of gait is slowing him down considerably.
He knows what he's after, and he's heading for it. Perhaps on the way,
though, he'll just stop and peek up at that blond. And that redhead. Maybe
when she's finished with the robe, he can play with it. Oooh, that brunette
certainly has nice sandals! He pauses to lick the astonished young lady's
feet, before merrily making his way onward. If he had only half the
attention span of a normal dragonet he'd be there by now, but there are so
many distractions, so many things to... oooh. Now -there's- a pair of green
eyes like one don't see every day. And underneath them a pair of feet that
sure do know how to dance. That way must be the way to head. And he does.

Nest walks in from Hatching Grounds Entrance.

Mikani nods her head, swinging her hands back and forth in excitement a few
times before she gets a hold of her emotions and settles back down. But
there's still an excited quiver in her voice as she answers Dallaney. "Yeah,
that colorful one over there. The Shape egg moved a while ago, and so did the
little grey one, but they've been still for a while now. Who do you figure
the blues will go to?"

Leigha grins lopsidedly at Nest, waving her over to where the weyrlings are
now congregating. "There you are, Nest," she says conversationally, "Would
you please aim those new weyrlings over there towards this area? I'd like to
keep the chaos on the Sands down to a minimum." She points towards a blue
sniffing someone's feet.

Nest steps on the sands almost tentatively, she nods towards Sayurith and
Sanath and smiles at the weyrlings and moves to the edge of the sand, out of
the way til she is needed. She grins and nods at Leigha and walks over to
her and the weyrlings "This way please." and she leads the way to one side
of the sands, to releive the congestion.

"I know better than to make bets on egg colors," states Lah'i quite
matter-of-factly. Eyeing the dimple enviously, she starts two work on her own
innocent-look. Gotta out-sweeten K'mra, after all.

Solandat swallows, watching the strangely-moving blue. "You're really sure
you won't Impress, aren't you?" he says to Eyochai.
Shuffle-hop-shuffle-shuffle. Added in an undertone is, "I wish I'd thought
to dig up some sandals." Wry smile.

Kora smiles at the newly-hatched dragons, a lively interest in their
progresses evident in both shining eyes and alert posture. She constantly
turns her head in an effort to see everything, everywhere, as it happens,
though every once in a while she has to rub sand specks out of her vision.

Saine tugs back at Aline's hand. "Not'in's th'matter. Whassamattah wit' you?
I was just wondering, well, what you though -- of him -- that one? The blue?
Well, that one, not that one, the one over there whose licking feet -- but
don't feet taste bad, I mean, I read a scroll that said about all these fungi
and stuff that grows on feet and they just don't sound, well, tastey to me."
Toes wiggle, as if at the thought at being licked. Maybe it's like a foot
massage, only slobberily. "And..."

Eos shifts, restlessly from foot to foot much like she had on the day of her
own hatching and Sivadath's many clutches since there. "We should really get
some better shoes for this," she mentions to herself while taking a quick
glance toward Siobhan, then Gamma. A smile, however, evolves around her
features as she comments, "So lovely, these hatchlings.."

Siobhan nods to Eos, her eyes glistening. "Aye, that they are," she says in
agreement.

Kora grins at the foot-licking and tucks one of her own behind her, scratching
an insect bite on the back of her other calf.

Tharian, who has been off in the corner doing what looks like wagering, edges
away from the part of any dragon. But his wanderings bring him a bit closer
to the Weyrleader's group than he'd like to be, so with a small, jerky extra
bow to the gold and brinze parents, he makes his way over to a small knot of
his cronies. "Olaf, Jassa, there's two blue dragons out there for you." He
cocks his thumb over his back at the hatching dragons.

K'mra rolls her eyes at Lah'i. "Yeah, right. You just don't want to lose,
because you know I'm right. I'm always right." The egg is considered again.

Lah'i rolls her eyes, too.

Dallaney jostles the girl behind her as she gets in the way of her foot.
"Maybe one of the boys," she hazards to the ex-cook, swivelling to gaze at
the candidate opposite to them, over the rough ring of eggs. "I think Heida
has a shot at one. Told me she liked blue."

Aline beams. Blankly. The heat is sapping her mind, honest. Sea-coloured orbs
flick -- flickflick -- from side to side, tongue again flickering nervously
out over her lips. "What? /Fungus/? That's gross, Saine! I don't know why in
Faranth's name a dragon would like to lick fungus." A pause. "Is it like
those little stool-like thingies? I learned about them from me mum. Hey, do
you think dragons get toe fungus?"

But fungus is nummy!

Eyochai shakes her head emphatically, or tries to. She's not good at being
emphatic when her hair's loose and slapping her face. "Nononono. I just know
where I'm going if I don't." Today; Candidacy. Tomorrow; the world! "Besides;
I'm not sure I'm ready for a committment--" Read: trap. "--like a dragon. So
it's silly to want something I'm not ready for. Today will tell. And then
I'll go one with my life. Or something." She proceeds in half tripping on her
feet as she paces half a step to the side. "Ooph."

IT is rather bad, at this point, that the avidly watching G'min finally
notices his Weyrmate. Moving to her side with a smile, he places an arm
around her waist. "Hello, dear. When did you get here?" Oops

Eccentric Dr. Who Blue Hatchling has found a woman who understands. Nothing
like a good foot massage...

Sayurith still thrums her greeting, but a curious blink of her eyes is sent
Aline and Saine-wards and she glances down at her paws for a split second
before resuming her vigil.

Eccentric Dr. Who Blue Hatchling gathers himself to an abrupt halt, the wild
hunt for the matching senses apparently complete as he waddles up to the
object of his search. Leaning forward to extend a blunt-edged muzzle, a
delicate whiff is sought of his new life-long project: Saine!

"Go, blue, go. Go, go, go," Ulerae chants softly. "Hey. Look. That blue's over
by Saine and Aline. You go, girls!" The last, lifted in a call with a beam.
"Saine!"

Intrepid Clark Savage Blue Hatchling pauses for a moment in front of a small
cluster of Candidates, scanning from one to the other to the first again, as
he tries to single one out. And will it all come down to eenie, meaney,
miney? Hardly. He's simply working out decisions with himself, before he
makes his final choice.

Ralla stifles a giggle behind her hand and dances adriotly out of the way of a
very determined hatchling. "Well, I guess not then, " she says to her
friend. "That's ok, though. There's plenty others. Right, Kora?"

Lah'i points at Saine. "Ooh, look, she got the blue."

Pale mist disperses as patience flees, now unneeded as the long wait ends and
heavy cracks break the idyllic blues and greens of All In Good Time Egg. An
explosion, perhaps from a well-aimed kick of the occupant, causes the first
of many protrusions to shoot off a good distance away, hitting one of its
clutchmates. The warring within divides the shell into many portions which
can only choose to flee at the last, shards flying in haste every which way
until finally the egg crumbles and leaves Intent Chrysoberyl Green Hatchling
alone in the dusty heat.
Intent Chrysoberyl Green Hatchling
Thin threads of dark scarlet filigree the deep emerald of her arrow-shaped
head and throat, tracing the veins of ichor contained beneath the smooth hide
beneath her graceful neck before brightening abruptly to a glowing
red-orange at her broad shoulders. Swallowed by the twisted black-green of
her back, scraps and snatches of this living fire dance in the little cracks
between and inside the rolling, unconventional braids, erupting in dramatic
edges along the contours of her well-muscled frame. On the ivy curtains of
her wings they escape again, dripping over the wing spars into brilliant
butterfly-patterns on the sails between, striking her perhaps not into
beauty, but certainly into an awe-inspiring canvas of raw strength and
altruistic vision.

Solandat makes a soft 'mm' sound, and nods, with as much composure as one can
manage when ones feet are burning off slowly to the ankle. "That's wise of
you, I guess, though I don't think I could be so pragmatic -- " Another
Impression fairly nearby catches his attention. "Saine! Hey!"

Aline lost a hand! Squeak. "SaineSaineSaine! Oh, tell me his pretty name,
Saine!" Beeeeeeaaaaam. She does remember to release Saine's hand, though.

K'mra watches, then notes sagely, "I would've guessed that. Blue for her.
She's crazy, you know, and that blue looks rather crazy, too. Good pick,
wouldn't you say?" Then: "Shut up, too. I wanna hear the name."

Gamma sort of siddles away from that pair, shaking her head at G'min before
her eyes search out Eos' eyes. She smiles and takes a deep breath, nodding.
What a twit her brother is. Laih's yell gets her attention and she glances
over just in time to see the Blue impress to Saine. And /Aline/ over there
brings a chuckle.

Lah'i nods. "Absolutely. This weyrlinghood should be interesting." The last
comment is, however, greeted with a frown. "Don't tell met to shut up."

Nitram scratches his head with his now Aire-free hand, sending the
ex-candidate a jealous look. She gets to get off the sands! Well, sorta. No
fair. Is it too late to back out of this candidacy-thing? Seems so, since the
lad just sighs slightly, shuffling his feet around. Thank Faranth for thick
soles - not that they help /that/ much.

Eyochai's jaw drops a bit. "Saine. On blue." Who'da thunk? "That makes a scary
sort of sense." And then she resumes tripping over herself, landing
rear-first on the sand. "Ooph," she repeats, more intensely.

Time Flies When You're Having Fun Egg jolts, the Impression of the blue
apparently marking a crazed frenzy: break, dratted shell!

Kora claps her hands together in congratulations for Saine. She nods absently
to Ralla. "I suppose so. . . " She watches everything carefully, wanting to
avoid mid-sand collisions with dragons, hatchlings, riders and Candidates.
"Crowded. . . " she murmurs.

Aire cheers from her corner, echoed by Aidubaith's smooth crooning: "Saine!
Congratulations!"

Sayurith holds her head just so as she watches the blue Impress. Crooning in
approval over his choice, she turns her head gently and greets the newest
green with motherly gaze.

Saine's toes stop wiggling. Mayhap it's at the thought that they might have
stool like things on them has horrified them into a dead halt. Or maybe it's
just the fact that Saine's wobbling and looking at the blue, and grinning and
... for once... silent. C'mon. She stops talking just when people want to
hear a name. "Llywith!" At last. "Food? Food? Oh. Food. Things you
eat, I'll feed you, don't worry, there's got to be food somewhere around
here, what do you want, I wonder if they've got any bubblies, you'd like
that..."

Solandat reaches out to offer Eyochai a hand up. "Sense? Maybe. Yeah. I
guess it would, the dragons know, right?" He looks rather skeptically back
at the eggs and hatchlings. Respect, right? So Aidubaith won't growl at him
again. Skeery, that. "You okay?" Since you keep falling over, of course.

May another impression for a friend and May cheers for Saine, "Oh he's lovely!
Congrats!" she smiles at the baby blue a moment, not what she wants so
they're all welcome to what ever color they get, as long as its not the
nonexistent gold, May will be happy for them.

K'mra calmly, politely informs Lah'i, "I'll tell you to shut up if I want to.
I think..." Any other distinctly not-nice things to say are cut off as she
hears the name, concentrating upon the blue and Saine in an attempt to hear
the new dragon's name. "Llywith. I like that, you know."

Nest waits to hear Saine announce the dragon's name, hesitating in her spot
before slowly crossing the sands, avoiding unhatched eggs and nervous
candidates and she smiles "Congratulations Saine, would you and Llywith like
to come over here with the other hatchlings?" She smiles at the blue and
points in the direction where the other weyrlings wait and she walks back in
that direction, expecting the new pairing to follow.

Aire whips out a stylus and begins penning a note.

Carpe Diem Egg is ready! Now. Now. Now. Shaking unceasingly, it falls off the
top and rolls to the bottom of the mound, crashing into another egg down
there that immediately hatches. But not a crack on /its/ shell. No fair!

Eyochai doesn't use Solandat's hand to get herself vertical again, although
she mutters a vague thanks. "Dragons know," she repeats. Her mantra. "I'm
fine," she adds more hastily. "Perfectly fine. My shoes're just too small."
Another small glare for the galleries. Jashan again. She might have to find a
new boytoy.

Intent Chrysoberyl Green Hatchling emerges with every ounce of drama possible;
shards take to the air in scattered pieces as the twisted black-green of her
back arches backward and her wings vault radically into the air as she takes
a slow, tedious moment to survey her surroundings.

Nobly, Intrepid Clark Savage Blue Hatchling makes his way toward the group of
Candidates, seeking the one that would join his adventure. Finally he halts,
and an eerie trilling note floats through the air above the din, filling the
sands with an undescribable tone. The trilling stops, eyes fading from red to
blue, as Chalis is claimed for his very own.

Ralla burbles happily from her position just behind Kora. Her petite body is
almost hidden, though that white-blonde head of curls bobs in an
attention-getting way. She points the green out. "Wow! Look at that one!
She's neat!"

Aire has arrived.
Aire finishes whatever note she was writing and pays attention again.

Aline bounces in place, hand-less and all by her lonesome in a bubbly sort of
way. "Imagine that! Llywith! That's so pretty, Sai--Chalis! You too!
Bluemates!"

Lah'i snorts and mumbles, but doesn't protest. She's too busy to protest. "Me
too!"

Mikani stumbles a bit as she shifts her feet, the heat now beginning to
penetrate the thick soles of the sandals she's wearing. "Wish I could have
worn my boots... even without socks, they would have protected my feet a
/bit/ better." Eyes are drawn to the side, watching intently, then "Saine!
Llywith! Congratulations!" She giggles a bit, then her eyes swivel to catch
the newest hatchling. "Ooooo, lookit that green make a scene!"

Saine obediently follows, feet for once behaving. Perhaps the dancing lessons
have already started. "Thank you, I'm coming, there's food, right?" And
socks?

Chalis kneels down and thtows her arms around the dragon before her "His name
is Olexath!

Time Flies When You're Having Fun Egg vaults. That's in. Incoming!

Ulerae tugs on Nitram and Mikani's hands, brow twisting in appreciation of the
heat. "Goodness, it's /so/ hot out here. Even in these flimsy little robes.
And /look/ at that charming green."

Time Flies When You're Having Fun Egg simply can't wait any more: the party is
going on without it. Not an ounce of hesitation in position, it simply cracks
and splits, spilling Elegant Pat Savage Bronze Hatchling into the midst of it
all.
Elegant Pat Savage Bronze Hatchling
Dawn's pale glow bathes his graceful back ridge in new-penny brilliance,
copper balanced by the pure symmetry of his physique, marked with the
elegance of noble perfection. Sublime limbs anointed in the purest bronze,
he glows molten metal to the last guilded talon, poured into the daybreak
that deepens into the shadows of his undercarriage and splatters a glistening
patina just a venture beyond the austere lustre of his long neck and brow;
here the glaze treks across his crown and headknobs, peaking just between
sharp, intelligent eyes. The horizon of his cresting brilliance fades only
along knife-edged black wingspars barely able to contain the brightening of
rich flames that fire their adventurous sails, perpetually hoisted above the
dimness below with glistening, impeccable espirt de corps.

Leigha waves to Chalis, a smile tugging at her Threadscore. "This way,
Chalis, Olexath! What a lovely name, Chalis," she calls loudly, waving the
weyrlings to their spot near the entrance.

May jumps as the egg she's been pestering to hatch finally cracks in a loud
way, but only a crack and a bit of a wiggle. Her heart begins to pound, oh
the anticipation!! She bounces on her toes and tries so hard to resist the
urge to kick the fardling thing, "Come on, come on!" hands clench in front of
her as bright gray eyes dance with hope. But its not to hatch yet and after a
few moments of vigorous movement, it stops and sits still once more. And May
grumps, "Come on!" her voice a whine. Distraction is her salvation (or the
eggs?) once more, cheers for Chalis directing her gaze to the new rider and
her blue, "Go Chalis! Congratulations!" a smile once more, brief respite from
the battle with the egg.

Solandat bounces on his toes, half-excited and half-burned. "That's why I
don't have sandals, they were all too small... big feet..." He trails off,
peering around him, and his mouth opens again, slightly. "The other blue's
Impressed. Chalis!" He draws in a sharp breath, "Oh, and look. A bronze."

"Another pretty name! Olexath!" Aline is appropriately excited, waving hands
bird-like in the air. "It's way too hot out here, don't you ... hrm." The
Candi is all alone. Poor little chatterbox.

Nest turns around to see another pairing and she smiles as another hatches, so
many to keep a track of and she smiles as Leigha bids them welcome and she
waits where she is, with the other weyrlings milling around and she stands
her ground quite easily, thick soles on her boots keeping her feet from being
burnt by the sands.

Nitram nods distractedly ar Ulerae. Hot? Well, did it take her so long to
figure that out?? Unable to think of anything else than a cool drink - well,
and maybe the dragons out there - the lad shuffles his feet some more, an
annoyed grimace settling onto his face. "Isn't it over soon," he
half-whimpers to Ulerae, tugging at her hand as if she holds the power to end
the Hatching.

Eyochai heys at that green, and her entrance. "You're stealing my stage." No
doubt every eye is on Beryl, now, and not on poor Eyo who keeps falling down.
She makes a hasty decision, and bends down -- rump elegantly in the air, robe
just barely covering it -- and begins fiddling with sandal straps. Off with
her shoes!

Chalis stands and begins to walk toward Leigha with her new lifemate

Dallaney examines the babbling throng. Her feet aren't hot, not at all. Not
even when she lifts a sandal up like that and shakes it to throw off the
heat's sting. Thus when her eyes roll back to the eggs, speechlessness comes
first. "Cha-lis," she mouths at Mik. "And there's a bronze." State the
obvious, right.

"Chalis!" cheers Aire again, Aidubaith flapping his wings in approval. Of
course, he's more intent on eyeing the green for his own nefarious purposes.
Aire is happily clueless, half an eye kept on the hatchings and the other
half on Eyochai and company, who she hath betrayed in the name of Aidubaith.

Kora allows her mouth to form an 'o' as she sees the bronze burst from his
shell. She blinks hard once or twice, to get the grit out of her eyes, and
looks around curiously to see who he'll pick. She moves from her spot, a
little, just enough to give a rest to her knees and to prevent her toes from
cramping. Hazel eyes sweep the sands, and the galleries too, looking for
something. . . or someone. . .

Intent Chrysoberyl Green Hatchling steps over a discarded shell, perhaps her
or possibly not, and seemingly floats upon the sands like a wandering
wildfire, intent upon surveying each and every single one of the candidates
in her path where nothing escapes her scrutinizing assessment as her ivy
wings are brusquely flushed against her well-muscled chest.

Kora arches one eybrow up as she gives the green a careful once-over. Then
she grins, looking over at Ralla. "If you want her, Ralla, you can have her!

Nitram suddenly yawns; a hand springing to his mouth to cover it - and that's
the fastest he's moved since teh dragons started humming. Not this this is
/boring/, mind you, but he was going to take a nap when he was ruthlessly
interrupted by these silly eggs.

Ralla laughs whole-heartedly. "That's very kind of you, Kora!" She giggles.
"Everybody knows that the dragons do the picking!" But her gaze lingers
wistfully.

Kora tosses her hair out of her eyes. . . again. "I know, I know. Just
teasing!"

"There she goes," Aline chants behind a pack of boy-Candidates, shifting to
the side to get a better view. "And goes and goes and goes. Look how muscled
she is. Strong-one." Sidle-sidle.

The egg May was so carefully guarding suddenly cracks all over and then
crumbles to the floor, leaving a creeling bronze almost right at her feet.
She squeeks at the sudden emergence and for a second thinks he is a gold!
With a squeal of joy she kneels down, but he is quick to correct her,
snorting and trotting off to eye some males. May blinks, then pouts, standing
and brushing off her robe with a grumbling look at the offensive bronze boy.
He had the nerve not to be gold!! She flips her nose into the air and doesn't
even bother to look to see who he impresses to, she's got a gold egg to find.

Solandat watches Eyochai doff her sandals with a sympathetic wince, but
doesn't say anything, preferring to keep an eye out for dragons. The green
is moving with surprising firey intensity, and he has no will to get in that
one's way. "Strong," he says, perhaps unconsciously echoing Aline.

Suspended Time Egg's quivering reaches a climax, rocking so fast that the
edges blur. An intense *crack* streaks down the side, and holds for half a
lifetime. It seems impossible that the shell can even stay together in such a
shambled state. Hold your breath.

Kora keeps a careful eye on the green, ready to dodge if necessary.

Intent Chrysoberyl Green Hatchling finishes cruising the outermost portion of
the sands, seemingly intent to review each of the candidates before a sudden
movement distracts her. Drawn to the apparent weariness of a particular
candidate, she roams across the sands, nearly tripping in the process before
reaching an awkward lad much taller than herself. Curiosity overwhelms her
for a moment as she looks up to him. Bored already?

Elegant Pat Savage Bronze Hatchling is knocked head over tail onto the sands,
landing with a little bronze nose in the hot sands. Ow! Without stopping to
regain composure, he lifts himself back up to his feet and sets off to claim
his long-awaited prize, sticking a sand-covered nose into every possible
avenue along the way. Ooh, this one looks nice. What's that, over there! Ooh!
A redhead! Drat, she's female.
Without the repitition of 'sands'.

Eyochai hasn't doffed her sandals yet. They're stuck on her feet, and hse's
having just about as much trouble with them as she had earlier with her robe.
"Off fiend!" she mutters, rump swaying nicely as she tugs on a strap. And
then a call goes up to Solandat; "Sorry, forgot; can you keep guard while I'm
busy? This might take a while."

Sh'lor lifts the arm not wrapped around Siobhan, pointing silently to Saine's
impression. Now there's a good reason to run if someone offers you the
weyrlingmaster's knot. "Looks like a good match," is is his only comment,
voice raised loud enough for weyrleader and other weyrwomen in the immediate
vicinity to hear. Nearby, Sanath rumbles a deep welcome to the newest of the
clutch's arrivals, twisting his head to examine May's bronze.

Kora sighs with relief and wrinkles her toes. "Are you as hot as I am?"

Eos looks upward towards her own lifemate, the young queen patiently settled
upon the viewing ledges with the remainder of the weyr's dragons. Smiling to
herself, she manages to drawn her gaze away from her lifemate for a mere
moment to catch a glimpse of the newly hatch and those anxious to impress.

Barrier broken, Suspended Time Egg splits open, solid pieces of shell, each
swirling with their own multitude of color, falling soundlessly to the warm
sands. Arcadian Petra Storm Green Hatchling emerges, aplomb, determined eyes
whirling. Arrival! Freedom!
Arcadian Petra Storm Green Hatchling
Shades of fresh spring grass paint the creases of her glazed chartreuse and
dark olive hide, seep into expansive mainsails tinted a deep seagreen, and
bound by light aquamarine veins and sparbones of blending blue. Though
gentle edges smooth her head, sharp neckridges crested with ochre harshen her
brilliant neck, twined with stiplings of red and gold, until it curves
gracefully into a chest of assertive tropical green. Long, but agile, she
bursts with energy and youthful hindquarters, balanced only by a spiraling
jungle tail spiced with royal blue to its dark, trident tip.

Ralla nods vigorously. "Oh yeah. But it'll all be worth it, you know."

Ulerae nudges Nitram. "Um. Nitram. See? She's right there. Is she looking at
you?" Blinkblink.

Nest smiles as she watches the pairings, keeping an eye out for browns, though
her smile shows that nothing can compare with the brown of her own pairing.
She smiles at the hungry pairings "Not too much longer yet. How are you
Saine?"

Gamma claps at the newest choice on the sands. "I /knew/ that boy would
impress green." She turns to see that no one is near her but the couple of
the year over there. From the corner of her eye she catches May and
facepalms. That child did /not/ come from her loins, did she?

Nitram edges closer to Ulerae. "No. She's looking at you." She has to be. Eek!

Intent Chrysoberyl Green Hatchling hesitates in her scrutiny of the
candidates, and then quite abruptly loses all calm composure as her decision
is made. In a sudden burst of speed without a care for other candidates or
hatchlings which could be in her path, she rushes to the feet of Nitram and
eagerly shoves her muzzle up at him, wings awkwardly in a plaintive gesture
as her mouth opens. After breathing heavily a moment in his face, her tongue
flicks out to lick his cheek. Apparently agreeing with his taste, this one
is most definitely hers.

Siobhan grins at the sudden emergence of a lovely grassy green. "Sayurith,
lovely really, just look at her!" The queen croons lovingly at her lifemate,
then at the little green just emerging from her shell.

"No she doesn't," Ulerae says with a half-smirk, yanking her hand away to clap
with hand-against-thigh. "Told you! Good job!"

Solandat was about to offer his help to Eyochai, but her suggestion is much
better, and he nods. "Aye, I will. Be ready to get up if I tell you."
Since she's busy with the sandal, he takes it upon himself to make a running
commentary for her benefit; how considerate. "A green just hatched, really
pretty. All different shades, and sort of... long and... slender." He gasps
sharply, and adds, "Oh! And Nitram just Impressed. To the other green.
Hey, congratulations, Nitram!"

Kora cheers for Nitram, pleased at the dragon's choice.

"Greeeeeen!" Aline once again does a little dance. Aimlessly, the Candidate
wanders again, finally stopping behind a thinner group of Candidates. "Oh!
Oh! Nitram! Lookit you! What's her name, her prettypretty name, her
prettyprettyprettypretty...." Et cetera.

Mikani is preternaturally awake.. that nap did wonders for her. "Ooooo,
Chalis, congratulations!" she calls. For some reason, her gaze goes out
across the expanse of the sands, to fasten to the galleries. She scans the
crowd, but there's just too many people up there for her to recognize anyone
form her family, and she successfully fights the urge to wave anyways and
call out 'Hi, Mom!' , instead turning and catching Nitram's Impression to
that green. "Ooo, congrats, Nitram!"

Sh'lor has disconnected.
Sh'lor has connected.

Aidubaith purrowrs triumphantly as the green Impresses, though - much to
Aire's horror - it would be to Nitram. "Oh, right. Congratulations!" she
calls, though somewhat sullenly; she's not looking forward to spending too
much time with him.

Arcadian Petra Storm Green Hatchling takes her first gulp of air, lives her
first second of life. And what a thrill it is. The shell is all but dust
beneath her talons. Quite a foundation to begin on. She tilts her head back,
and opens her jaw- A moment of pause, and then sound erupts. Allo.

Nitram abruptly takes a step backwards as the green /licks/ him. Ew! Girls are
so icky! "Whaat? What did you say?" Accusing eyes are cast on Ulerae, until
he realizes... it's not her speaking. It's the dragon. Uh. "Ja... Jaath?!"
His knees shaking, the lad moves to tentatively touch the green dragonet.
"Jaath..."

Eos has disconnected.

May taps her foot as she waits for the supposed gold egg to hatch, grumbling
and glaring at it. Its got to be a gold, its certainly stubborn enough! She's
beginning to tire of this game, and as her feet cook and her patience wanes
her temper flares like the flames of her hair... which is now frizzy and
slightly sweaty from the humidly suppressing heat of the caverns. No, she's
not looking her best. But a little brightness creeps in as she spots Nitram
being nabbed by a quiet green, "Congrats Nitram!" she smiles for a moment and
then looks back to her egg to glare, "Seeeee? That's what your /supposed/ to
do."

Dallaney eyes the bronze, hazels blinking wistfully, head turning to track his
fall and the investigation that follows. Hence the slight startle when the
green breaks shell and Mikani names the new lifemates. "Ooh, him," she says,
springing into jerky motion again. Ouch. Hot.

Nest stalks out onto the sands again and hearing everyone congratulate Nitram
she is able to put name to face "Congratulations Nitram, and welcome Jaath."
She smiles at the green and Nitram's acceptance of her and she smiles "You
think your feet hold you up to walk to the side." She gestures to the side
nearest the exit "Come Nitram, meet your other fellow weyrlings."

Llywith is too busy paying attention to Saine's feet to actually make his
pleasuer over the impression known, but Saine manages a cheer-eep before
trying to answer Nest's question... without noticing that the weyrlingherder
has left.

Eyochai manages to get the first one unbuckled, and she kicks that blue-bead
sandal out behind her. Hopefully, it won't hit anyone in the galleries. She's
got a good strong kick on her. The commentary on the green is turned aside as
she momentarily looks up to eye Nitram's green. "Oh, good. She's gone." More
attention for Eyo now. She resumes rump-waggling, to work on her left sandal,
while the right scorches merrily.

"Excellent!" Ulerae crows, tugging gleefully on Mikani's hand. "Jaath. N'ram?"

Elegant Pat Savage Bronze Hatchling has, by now, journeyed all the way around
the grounds, weaving his way through candidates as each is sniffed and
considered with the utmost of care. After a few minutes, composure is found:
elegance is recovered - but he shall never stop venturing, his curiosity
taking him to the oddest places. Ooh; but here is something interesting!
Lifting his head, he trots over to Eyochai, dodging flying sandals.

Kora shuffles her feet around in the sand. What was warm and comforting when
she got here is now annoyingly hot and almost painful as her leather soles
are getting baked. Before she realizes it, her long spider-like legs have
carried her right to a small knot of three or four other Candidates, a Miner,
a Harper, and two Holders, all of whom she knows well.

Solandat is briefly distracted as the sandal makes a neat parabola out...
somewhere. "Uh. Yeah, she's gone." Blinkblink. She does make up her mind
quickly, doesn't she? "Um. There's a bronze coming your way, watch it."
Solandat moves a fraction back, but not too much; poor Eyochai has to get out
of the way, and she's... occupied. With her foot.

Saine has connected.

Aire wobbles on tiptoe as she tries to catch a glimpse of who's Impressing
what, now. Aidubaith obliges nicely, putting his muzzle under her boney butt
to boost her up. "No... not the green, yet. -- How am /I/..." Disjointed
conversation continues, a meld of mental and aural media.

Eyochai has such lovely toes, too. All wrinkled from too much bathing. She
knew it was a bad idea to get caught with paint in her hair. She takes a
moment to admire her toes, before looking at Solandat, and then the bronze,
and then pales. "No! Nononono. Go away. Shoo. I'll save you, Solandat!" She's
good at that. She waves her hands at the bronze, and attempts to puff herself
up and look bigger, more menacing. Deeeeeeep breath.

"Hey. Hey!" Aline's sense of propriety is interrupted by the bronze's approach
to Eyochai. "He can't do that, can he? I always though it was bronzes to guys
and golds to girls, because, um, that's the way it is and stuff. Why is he
going over there? There isn't a guy over there, is there?"

Kora mops the sweat off her face with the sleeve of her robe before realizing
what she's done. Then she looks down. Uh-oh. Well, maybe a dragon will be
attracted to the sweat smell. . .

Solandat's eyes widen a trifle, and then more than a trifle, at Eyochai's
announcement. "Save yourself first!" Which is a bit of a ridiculous thing
to say, but then, he's not quite all there just yet. "I don't think inhaling
is going to do it!" He himself has decided that the best way to stay out of
a dragonet's path is to back up, but then, that's not nearly as entertaining
as the hand-waving.

"Go Eyo!" Ulerae cheers the Igenite on, grin splitting face as she tugs again
on Mikani's hand. "Imagine that, Mikani. See that? The bronze is going over
there. Maybe for Solan, d'you think?"

Yes, there /is/ a guy behind Eyochai.. Tharian. He spies the bronze coming his
way, and stops dead in his tracks; for once, no smart-alek remark falls from
benumbed lips. He simply stares at the dragon in disbelief.

Aire lets out war whoops and terrifying, Valkyrie-esque shrieks as she cheers
Eyochai on, looking like some bizzare fantasy female with her red-eyed steed
flapping its wings behind her. "Eeeeeyo! Eeeeyo!"

Elegant Pat Savage Bronze Hatchling sticks his muzzle down to sniff at those
toes, and then winces. What's all the waving for? He's *right* there. Silly
Eyochai. Sniff. She smells nice. Sniff. Yup, she - but wait! What's that?
Spotting something behind the frantic girl, happy croons ensue: how perfect!

Elegant Pat Savage Bronze Hatchling knows what he's searching for and has
hesitated long enough in this, his newest adventure. One after another, he
inspects the white-robed ones, before stopping in front a blue-eyed figure,
pausing to look him over for an instant. Giving a soft croon of disapproval,
he lets his own eyes fall to those of Solandat.

Arcadian Petra Storm Green Hatchling launches her haunches, and begins the
prowl. Her energy is endless, barely contained by her small angular form.
She'll have to take it out on those big, white bowling pins over there. Green
dynamo barrels forward, wailing like a siren. At least she gives fair
warning. There's a Good-Thing out there. She's just gotta find it.

Mikani lets her hand be tugged. "Nah, the bronze is going to Solandat or
Tharian. He's just teasing Eyochai. see, he's already moved on to.. It's
Solandat! Yay, Solandat! Congratulations!"

Dallaney points out to her neighbour boy in intent fashion, "Bronze just
/don't/ go to girls. But maybe it's her toes." She stops suddenly, one
finger jabbing out at Solandat. The holler fairly barrels out from her
mouth. "Got him! Congrats!"

Kora clasps her hands joyfully under her chin. Solandat is another one of her
friends. Out of the corner of her eye she sees the barreling green and gives
her a clear path.

Lah'i is drawn into the wonder of Isavroth as she vanishes into her foolish
fancy.

"Go Solan!" Ulerae wiggles her white-clad rear in an excess of happiness, eyes
lingering on Solan's bronze before flickering back to the green. "Where's she
going, so quickly?"

Eyochai hath been teased. She looks miffed again. "Don't offer if you don't
intend to follow through, mister," she announces. She has failed, once again,
to protect her friend. Solandat's impression is greeted with a mixed bag of
emotions. Like; "What? You're too nice to ride bronze! I'm so sorry for
failing you! What's his name?"

Leigha grins at Solandat, "What's his name, Solandat?" she calls, motioning
for the weyrlings to join her.

Only Time Will Tell Egg turns slowly, movements easy and slow, before a
sudden, frenetic burst of activity takes place. Slowing once more, it seems
to pause for a moment, and then...

Harsh marigold shadows as the Only Time Will Tell Egg moves about, shaking and
shivering for a moment at an assult from within. It stops, then, before the
egg simply explodes into shards, leaving behind a very smug-looking
Contradictory Prime Rowan Green Hatchling.
Contradictory Prime Rowan Green Hatchling
Elusive quicksilver frolics along the contours of her slender frame, over the
deep, dark jasper that shimmers in opalescence and melds atop austere,
angular lineaments, assuaging harsh features with the alien traces of
incandescence, grazing bony shoulders and kissing the vast spread of broad
wings. From there, Jade tumbles down her gawky, lanky extremities,
surrendering to the inky void of a barnacled belly, the blackened
bottle-green of her creases, and the murky verdure that creeps along her
beryline sides. While pearly smoke and crystalline hints of fragile dove
sift over the elfin cast of her triangular head and limn the lines of a proud
jaw, hoarfrost and morning dew repose among her craggy neckridges, and
teasing strains of verdigris slink through the subtle stirring of dappled
moss, as enigmatic as the ghost whispers of sooty absinthe beneath the
esoteric darkness that cloaks her in endless, eternal verdancy.

Aline echoes, beaming at the weyrling: "Yeah, Solan, what's his name, Solan? I
bet it's pretty, too." The last, of cours,e is an aside to herself.

S'olan takes a step back, catches his breath. And then, suddenly, incredibly,
laughs, fiercely, joyfully. "Brighter, yes, of course, you are bright.
Laenaoth. His name is Laenoth!"

N'am slides an arm around his new lifemate and moves, still gaping, to the
edge of the sands to join the other weyrlings and the weyrlingmaster. "Yes,
yes, food. I'm hungry." The plaintive whine emerges from the lad, but it's
more likely the words of Jaath.

May finally finds another yellow egg to pretend is housing a gold, "This one
_has_ to be it!" she quietly proclaims and goes to staring at it intently,
only distracted by a bronze choosing that Sol boy, "Congratulations
Solandat!" the new rider given another looking over, for future reference, he
is a bronzerider now after all.

"Hah-ha!" Aire cackles madly, clapping for Solandat. "I knew he'd do well.
Strapping young lad like that..." Well, more of a scrawny young lad, but in
her affection-fuzzied eyes, he's lovely. Love is blind, after all.

Eyochai is left all alone. She tries not to look happy about it, but she does
a bit. No more dragon magnets. Now we can get down to business. The newest
green is ignored a bit, because she's busy eyeing fireball Arcadian with
fear, and making faces at a guy in the galleries, too. No blues; she's safe
for the moment from needing to pay attention. Tonguewiggle.

Saine twists around to do her cheerthing, bumping Llywith in the process so
that teh congratulations are mixed with quickworded appologies.
"Yay-sorry-woo-go-aryoualright?"

Nest smiles at the bronze pairing, clasping her hands together, she glances at
the others and then calls out to Solandat "Congratulations to you and
Laenaoth." She pauses "I mean S'olan, come over here and join the others."

Kora notices that the crowd on the sands has thinned out, in some ways. Now
that there's a gaggle of newly-Impressed over there, there are a lot less
white-robes on the sands. Feeling in need of human companionship she heads
towards the last large clump of candidates.

Siobhan pokes Sh'lor in the ribs, then smiles happily. "Mmmmm, competition,"
she remarks, carefully avoiding any glance towards G'min. However, her arm
doesn't move from its' place around the WeyrSecond's waist, merely tightening
slightly at the sight of the bronze Impressing.

Aline sneaks up behind Eyochai, once again on the move and tapping the Igenite
on the shoulder. "Eyochai! Wanna be my protecter?"

Time Waits For No Man Egg suddenly spins, kicking sand and debris in every
which direction as its' inhabitant seeks release

Faint grindings emanate from beneath the shell of Time Waits For No Man Egg,
causing it to shudder violently before criss-cross cracks cover the surface,
shocked suddenly into complete dissolution. Dust and minute egg shards rise
in a mist, completely obscuring the emergence of the formerly stasis-bound
inhabitant, Narcisisstic Mutate Cat Brown Hatchling.
Narcisisstic Mutate Cat Brown Hatchling
Mahogany shadows haphazardly pool into subtle sleekness along this dragon's
lithe flanks and saucy tail, spiralling mischeviously in flame-kissed stripes
that caress the play of his chest muscles down to pewter-tipped talons of
elegantly polished darkness set in seal dark paws. Wings neither too large
nor short for his medium frame grace him in feline aureate brilliance, the
debonair play of sunset-draped wingtips always perfectly placed above his
wedge-shaped head; gold fades to mahogany towards trailing edge, sails lined
in seal brown velvet and criss-crossed by the eerie green of veins just below
the surface. His inquisitive nose, blunted slightly and stained in klah-dark
tones, balances rakishly angled eyeridges above graciously tilted eyes, a
restless betrayal of his eternally internal scheming.

Eyochai simply cannot resist this play for her ego. "Protector? Sure, Aline.
You don't mind that I've failed on everyone else, right?" She nods in the
direction of Solandat and poor Aire of the ugly dragon. "Because, I'm
beginning to think that this is all Lah'i's fault." Evil brownrider, making
all the hatchlings head for her.

"Now /she/," Ulerae's chin indicates the green, hand swinging idly by her
side, "is entirely lovely. And another one!" Head tilts slightly, 'brows
twisting in a slight frown. "How odd. He sorta reminds ... me ... of ... huh.
Gimme a minute and I'll think of it."

Arcadian Petra Storm Green Hatchling shrieks again. There's no stealth to this
search, and currently she's being upstaged by that other green thing. No
good. She snaps out tiny, spindled wings and swings her head around, scouring
those in white. Look here, listen here!

Nest's smile broadens to see a brown appear and she almost looks like she is
going to jump up and down in delight. She shakes her head and remembers her
duty "Not much longer, I sure you start to feel hunger now?" she asks of the
weyrlings, glancing over all of them and their pairings.

Aline just beams. Mindlessly, as she squeezes past a small girl-Candidate and
attaches herself to Eyochai's side. "That's okay. I just bet you'll Impress,
and then it won't matter that everyone else did, because you'll be in the
same boat. Right?" Riiight.

Contradictory Prime Rowan Green Hatchling makes quite a coordinated exit from
her egg, although she seems slightly surprised as she lands on the sands.
Rising, she shakes her head, sending goo and egg fragments flying as she
leans forward to examine the world in which she finds herself. Hrmmmmmmm. A
ginger step forward, and then another, and she's on her way without a
backward glance. Which one of these will measure up? Upstaging her green
sister is just the beginning - this one is a show stealer, and she intends to
keep it so every step of the way. And attempt at a bugle chokes off
somewhere in her unpracticed young throat, but smugness fails to fade.
Passing a brown, she readies herself to begin searching. There's one out
here, and just one...

Saine's shoulder lifts in a slight shrug. "Uh." Lip twists, expression
distinctly confused. "Well. I do know that I've got a sudden urge to nibble
on some raw herdbeast?"

Kora winces at the sound. "That is one frustrated hatchling." She creates
doodles in the sand with her toe, idly looking to see what will finally
transpire. Flowers, triangles, and wiggly, squiggly lines take shape under
her feet.

Narcisisstic Mutate Cat Brown Hatchling pokes his head above the remains of
his shell, predatory gaze raking the Sands as he surveys the table. First
one paw, then another, emerges from the shards, testing the sands before
being settled firmly to the ground. Lithe body suddenly slips from the
shadows, wet wings open into seal darkness, and he crows his arrival in
alley-cat tones. Let the /par-tay/ begin!

S'olan and Laenaoth move toward the edge of the Sands. "You're hungry. Yes.
Food. Yes." Eyes are still bright and a bit star-dazzled. "Laenaoth."

Kora laughs at the brown's entrance. "Show-off!"

Eyochai looks plaintively at Aline. "But there aren't any /blues/," she says
in a half whine. The wild, wild green is admired faintly. "You go, girl. Just
stay away from here, okay?" Some of my best friends are fierce, but I
wouldn't want my dragon to be..."Heylook, Aline. It's a brown. What'cha
prefer, anyway?" She needs to know what to be most concerned about, see.
Where does she resort to giving her life for Aline's safety.

Aline blinks blankly, face falling into a mask of ... nothing. All pressure,
no brains, the little Candie. "Preference? I -- I dunno. The greens are
pretty. So are the blues. And the browns. What about you?" Perfectly
ambiguous.

Sh'lor chuckles softly, ice blue gaze moving over the sands to examine S'olan,
the newest addition to Igen's bronzerider ranks. "We'll cope somehow, love.
He'll never catch his dam while Sanath's around, that much I promise."

Eyochai has already made her preferences clear; she'll either be a busty
bluerider, or she'll have Noa's job. Or maybe she'll take over the world.
Buah..."Doesn't matter," she replies to Aline, and gets distracted by the new
brown.

Mikani snakes her wands away again, wiping them on the rear of her robe. Her
eyes tick from green to green to eggs to... hold on there, missy, what have
we /here/? She turns her gaze to the felinesque form of the newly hatched
brown, and her hands frantically squirm towards Ulerae and Dallaney again.

Siobhan suddenly giggles, grinning up at Sh'lor. "Sayurith wonders why?" she
remarks, reproducing the comment with the coy detachment of the queen dragon.
Sayurith herself only rumbles softly towards her own weyrmate, coquettishly
ducking her head as her first lids flutter flirtatiously.

Arcadian Petra Storm Green Hatchling must have some kind of internal
generator, because the energy just keeps coming. She squals backwards to her
newborn clutchmates, and launches again for the crowd. Look fellas', this is
what you do. They like it. A flash of motion in a tight candidate knot draws
her curiosity. The noise, the questions... Petra wants in on Eyochai and
Aline's fun.

Dallaney lifts a sandal to scratch the foot underneath it. "Lots of greens,"
she grunts absently, "Hope they won't be dimglows next time." She's made up
her mind, at any rate. Hand tugs on Mikani's, and she notes in softer tones
amidst the girl's squirming grasp: "The brown looks like a troublemaker.
You--like--him?" Blink.

Carpe Diem Egg seizures violently, splintering at the cusp between night's
shadows and day's hues. The shell disintegrates quickly as a newborn head
dawns over a ragged edge. Within a moment's gasp, the gap is wide enough to
allow the glistening form trapped beneath to finally break through:
Self-Conscious Lt. Barklay Brown Hatchling lurches forth.
Self-Conscious Lt. Barklay Brown Hatchling
Inky dollops of dusty rose salmon coalesce the creases of his vast expanse of
seasoned black cherry hide, cluttering into gangly extremities seeped in
sepia before vanishing beneath of facade of dusky darkness. Sleek sheets of
lengthy mocha-washed wings drizzled with an ethereal edge of frosty pink
coral veins engulf him, cluttering the smooth, rounded ridges that bud from
his elongated neck and rosewood headknobs, leaving only a whim of the large,
expressive eyes that light his nervous triangular head. Hints of deep well
metallicy limn his soot-smudged physique, creating golden glimpses that
overshadow the disproportions and discrepancies and glitter the lengthy
starscape frame from rich hazelnut tail to clever ebon talons with heroic
motes of succulent, suffering incandescence.

"Um." Eyochai's arm is tugged, Aline's eyes widening blankly. "Eyo. Eyo! /Um/!
Again!" That's the extent of her coherency, green-blue eyes flickering
startledly over the green.

Eyochai knew it. "K'mraaaaa," she whines. "This is all your fault." The
brownrider probably made her smell like studly Tyranoth, or something, over
the time of captivity. She stands her ground, hands on hips, and watches
Arkadian's approach. She's not backing down. "Remember A'lamoo," she hsssts
at Aline. "We'll go down fighting!"

Narcisisstic Mutate Cat Brown Hatchling doesn't waste anytime, not he. A
glance down at his paws to ensure order, a brief rub of wedge-shaped head
against chest to polish mahogany headknobs, and he's off across the Sands,
sauntering in that don't-I-own-the-place manner that marks a dragonet of
confidence. A pair of giggling girls are briefly passed by, with only a
flick of his sophisticated wingtips, then it's onwards, and upwards, towards
the straggling group of candidates that yet remain.

Contradictory Prime Rowan Green Hatchling strides forward, passing a group of
males without a backward glance, shouldering past a slender harper lad to
peek around him. Perhaps, perhaps.... this way. With a toss of her head,
she sets off. Her green sister seems to have the right idea, and there's no
way this one's going to miss out on any of that. With a twitch of her tail,
she treads across the sands, picking up her pace. There's a lot to be
accomplished, and she's going to need a willing vi... accomplice, if she's to
get it all done. There's a lot of world to rule out there, you know.

K'mra hears that and switches attention to Eyochai, beaming. "I know. Isn't
that great?" Less than repentant, the brownrider mentions, "Tyranoth does
have some taste, although I doubted it at the time."

"A'lamoo?" Aline repeats blankly, echoing Eyochai's stance -- albeit sloppily.
"Who's he?"

Aidubaith starts to find the edge of Aire's robe fascinating - she's
fascinating, too, of course, but... strings! - and begins to nibble on the
uneven hem. "Stoppit!" she hisses in gut reaction, batting away his muzzle
even as he hisses playful at her. Boo!

Nest's mouth falls into an o as she sees the latest brown hatch and she smiles
softly, "Beautiful." She shifts her feet, tired of standing still and the
heat getting to her now and she shakes her head and eyes drop away from the
two browns back to the weyrlings to see if they are alright and she grins at
Saine "Now you just learn that be Llywith's thoughts not yours."

Saine would be shocked if she realised the green's world dominational plans.
It's her world. Really. Meanwhile, she's having what seems to be a one
sided conversation with Llywith that seems to go on and on and on.

Eyochai explains to Aline; "Some guy in a clutch a while ago. Legendary. He
screamed at this one blue from the moment he hatched, to the moment he
Impressed him. Something about not liking the color of his left wingsail.
Anyway, he Impressed, but he did so bravely." Awe shines in her eyes.

Kora debates moving again, indecision clearly registering on her features.
Sure now that none of these dragons are going to chose her, she moves slowly
and inconspicuously towards the sands entrance, attempting to deliberately be
overlooked.

Ulerae's giggle is covered in a fit of coughing, free hand falling over her
mouth -- though her eyes still just /gleam/ amusement. "Silly Eyochai. She'd
better not scream. Sayurith'd get upset, I'd bet."

Sh'lor watches the pair of greens weave their way across the sands, and
there's the beginning of a gleam of triumph in his eye as he replies to
Siobhan absently. "Why? You both know that much, love. Because we'll be
there. Every time." And whether it's arrogant or not, it's a quiet
statement, for his weyrwoman's ears only. Sanath leans into Sayurith, his
rumble deeply amused by some impending event.

Mikani nods wordlessly. "Yeah, I like him, for some reason." Her voice is
soft, awed, and she doesn't even turn her head when the second brown hatches,
for her attention is taken up with that first one. And that green, who seems
to be homing in on her decision. If she were to wager, she /thinks/ one of
the greens will go to Leseela.

You'd better believe she'd get upset - didn't the weyrlingmasters tell the
candidates that Sayurith hasn't eaten in a week??

"Really?" Aline's head jerks to the side, bird-like, tongue flickering over
lips in nervousment, though she snorts slightly. "I don't think I'll do that.
It might frighten her, you see." And gaze goes back to the greens, blinking.
"Hers, rather." Sudden, odd calm.

Arcadian Petra Storm Green Hatchling saw them first- She's enough dragon for
two girls, right? Angles straighten out in a display-case pose. Like what you
see? Has she got a deal for you. Lifetime warranty, and 24-7 telepathic
helpline. A decision snaps into place, and Petra lunges for Aline, a lifemate
to match her energy and enthusiasm. Catch!

Eyochai is almost hoping Sayurith will get upset. Then she can be like that
Hotty-person she's heard of, and yell at the clutchdam from the galleries
while Sayurith threatens to cause a cave-in. Another hero for the list.
"Silly ninny," she chides Aline gently. "I'm not going to /scream/. Just
refuse to back off. No one's going to tell me what to--oh. Um." Aline hath
Impressed, it seems. "Sorry?"

Self-Conscious Lt. Barklay Brown Hatchling hauls a huge foot from the shards
of his own making, over and onto the sand...Lt. Barklay reporting for duty,
sir...and promptly falls flat on his face. *splat* Crunch the nose, he does,
only flap at his overlong wings and sturggle to regain his stance. In vain.
But this too shall pass. Wriggling his tail around himself to push up from
the dome of one shell lain over on its sharp edges, he rocks upward, hauling
himself up, up, up...and /splat/ onto his nether regions, tail twisted about
his neck, one wing above his head and the other behind him. He blinks.

Contradictory Prime Rowan Green Hatchling tilts her head, peering at the two
her sister has selected with unmistakeable interest. She has an agenda. She
needs spunk. She needs determination. She needs something she can see very
nearby. And it's got steel grey eyes. She doesn't need someone to simper at
her, she needs a partner. Someone, most importantly of all, who'll willingly
aid and abet. Another step forward. There's one nearby who might just go
down screaming, which at least shows she's got spunk. She starts to edge
around Aline and her new lifemate. This way.

Continuing the search for her own, the one that will listen to her, Arcadian
Petra Storm Green Hatchling suddenly stops. Virescent head is dropped, and a
tiny creel trickles across the sand, her wobbling path sending her stumbling
into a tall form, sending long hair furling. Outwardly calm, she lifts her
eyes, focusing gently on Aline.

Dallaney retreats to that looming distant manner. "There are a few more.
That pair of greens and a brown. Another one." It's safer here, where she
peers around at the dragonets in dark-eyed, keen-edged scrutiny, nose up at
one then the other. "And hey, that one. It's the harper."

Narcisisstic Mutate Cat Brown Hatchling wanders lonely as a cloud for awhile,
then comes to a complete stop, sniffing the air inquisitively. A minor
direction change, and he stops again, this time listening. Is that the
mellifluous tones of an angel he hears? And coming from the direction of
that most marvelous odour! With a hop-skip, the feline brown reverses
himself and makes a beeline for his journey's end.

Aire cheers merrily for Aline, Aidubaith discovering the amusing muffling
affect his wing has when it's put between her and the newly-Impressed.
"Al....ne!" the girl calls around the dragon-induced doppler effect.

Aline catches! Aline catches? Aline /stares/. "Wha'--Circeoth! Of course I
am!" And she wraps sweaty arms around the lovely green, repeating with a
not-so-mindless beam: "Her name is /Circeoth/!"

May sighs as this new yellow egg refuses to hatch promptly, just as the other
did. And it seems no matter how hard she wills it to crack it just wont do
it! She looks out to the throng of other hatching dragons and their cries of
joy in finding partners, grinning again as Aline is found by a green,
"Congratulations... er... Lina?" vague remembrance of conversations on 'What
would you change your name to if...' pulled from the back of her mind.

Leigha grins and nods to Nest to bring Aline and Circeoth over to the
entrance, then bends to examine a blue's fouled wingtip.

Noa walks in from Hatching Grounds Entrance.

K'mra has connected.

Eyochai eyes the Rowan warily, in the manner that indicates that if she's
/told/ to be spunky, she won't do it. She backs off a step.

Self-Conscious Lt. Barklay Brown Hatchling is bound and determined. Bound by
his tail and wings and determined to boldly go where no dragon has gone
before. Yah. Shifting his head from left to right, as if sizing the
situation, he regroups all the parts of him that have claws and scrambles to
his feet, eyes wide. Hey! It worked! He puffs out his chest. Now. To find the
right one.

Nest grins and nods at Leigha and walks onto the sands and smiles "Aline?
Could you bring Circeoth over here, you will both me more comfortable over
here." She pauses "Congrautations." She gestures at the other weyrlings who
are waiting "Come meet the others, not that you don't know 'em but.." she
trails off and blushes and walks back to the others, expecting Aline to
follow.

Mikani grins as she watches the green Impress... Aline? Wellwell, that's a
surprise! "Aline.. Aline and Ciceoth! Congratulations!" She turns and
peers.. nope, no dragons seem to be coming this way, so she turns around and
scratches frantically at one leg. Itch sated for the moment, she turns her
gaze back on the remaining dragonets.

"Oh, yes," Aline -- Lina? -- responds dazedly, straightening and carefully
touching a finger to Circeoth-wing to lead the green away. "I'm coming. You
too, Circeoth."

Contradictory Prime Rowan Green Hatchling is somewhat contradictory, you know.
And just because she's not wanted, she wants. Oh, this is going to be fun.
More than fun. She's going to have to invent a new word.

Kora folds lanky arms over a virtually flat chest, noticing both the sweat
sticking her hair to her scalp and that the brown has finally started off.
Shoving her bangs back out of her eyes she watches him from a safe distance.

Contradictory Prime Rowan Green Hatchling pauses suddenly, elfin head swinging
about with unerring certainty so that her determined gaze can fix upon steel
grey, almond shaped eyes. No long and lonely road lies ahead of this
youngling, for she starts forward to plant herself firmly before one young
woman. With this one she has found her meeting of minds. This one is hers:
Eyochai!

Siobhan has connected.
Leigha has connected.

"Aline! Lovely! An --- /Eyo/!!!" Shrill. Ulerae's call is appropriately loud,
bouncing excessively. "Mikani, see? They Impressed! Even Eyo!"

Mikani gasps as that second green goes to Eyochai. "Ooooooo, look! Look!
Eyochai Impressed! The green went to her! Isn't that great?" Her gaze now
locks on the two remaining dragonets on the sand.. and then flashes about to
look at the myriad trios and pairs that dot tha sand in small clots.

Eyochai has only enough time to shoot a 'Mine's broken, Mommy, can I have
another?' look to Sayurith, to everyone who she blames for her fate --
including everyone who ever made a bet that she'd Impress green -- and then
she's invaded by a whole new world, as un-Meek and Biddable as they come. She
has to pause a moment to swallow the loud whoop welling inside her.
"Kezasuth," she says calmly, voice only mildly shaking, "I think we shall."
She plants one hand across those sloping green shoulders, and adds, with due
drama; "And my name," more loudly, "is /Echo/."

Narcisisstic Mutate Cat Brown Hatchling slides to a rather messy stop before
the cook, snuffling at hands and robe as if curious about what her spicy
scent can reveal. Stepping back finally, he raises seal-dark wings to the
sky, crooning madly his rock lullaby to that gem of gems, that far-out maker
of meatrolls, Mikani, and making her his for now and for all time.

Kora raises an eyebrow again. Eyochai? She shakes her head and continues to
watch.

May is wandering all over the place looking for remaining 'gold' eggs, having
some difficulty finding them among the happy cries and creels of impression.
The press of the other candidates as they either hover together in fear or
giggle in the open just give her more grief and she's starting to get snippy,
"Oh, quit your blabbering. If you would just get out of their way they
wouldn't hurt you one bit." she snaps at a terrified holder girl that looks
to be from the very back woods, to which the girl responds with ever more
terror and May just continues to stalk away, "Wherry head." she then pauses
as she catches sight of another friend impressing, "Oh Eyo! She's lovely!"
the greenie girl admired as the previous ones were.

"And /you/!" Ulerae snatches her hand away, beaming at Mikani. "I told you!
What's his name, Mika?"

Aire waves cheerfully at Aline as she and Circeoth mosey on over, Aidubaith's
dark eyes following after the green with bad intent. "Eyo! Mikani!" Names
ring out, voice starting to get an edge as it goes raw. All the whooping
didn't help, either.

Dallaney knives her sandals on the ground, freezing briefly. "Eyochai," she
hears and echoes, clenched teeth working at themselves, gaze on the brown
before her companion. "Mikani, you can't be--" Oops. Hollow, her voice is.
Oh. "Grats."

Leigha grins at Ulerae, and turns to Mikani expectantly. "Do tell, Mikani,"
says she, grin almost splitting her Threadscored face as she welcomes the
weyrling.

Noa shifts a little on her heels. They just went and gave all her dragons to
all her white-robed gardener-trainees. Drat. This was not in the plan. Aw
well, might as well party while the partyings's good. "Yeee-haw! Tha's the
way." A communal congratulation for those on, and off the sands.

Siobhan sighs, suddenly realizing that the Sands are almost empty of dragonets
and weyrlings, then motions for the remaining candidates to tighten up their
formation. "Almost over," she sighs to Sh'lor, then pushes a wayward wet
curl from her forehead wistfully.

Eyochai joins the weyrling crowd with her Kezasuth keeping pace with her right
nice. I want a gal to stand beside me; not in front of or behind me. "Leigha.
She needs food. Gimme." Manners, it seems, require a separate purchase to
acquire.

Self-Conscious Lt. Barklay Brown Hatchling treks out into the throng of
candidates, the sheer length of him dragging along shell shards as he passes,
determined, assured, seeking...and dragging those huge wings and tail behind
him. He stops near Noa and sniffs her. Is she the one? The wrinkle in his
snout causes him to sneeze. *Honk* Must be alergies. Wrong one. He wants a
/buddy/. She isn't it.

Kora sees the Weyrwoman's gesture and quietly takes her place, once again
almost in the very center of the Sands and again in the unwelcome spotlight.
She cringes as she sees the faces of the watchers and turns to face the
dragons. They won't laugh at her, anyway. . .

Ulerae squishes closer, nudging Dallaney. "One brown left, and that blue over
-- never mind, he just Impressed. Who's the brown for, d'you think?" The
gardener is eyed. "Not Noa, I hope."

Mikani was so intent on the Impression of Eyochai that she was unaware of that
feline-brown creeping up on her that way. She turns to say something to
Dallaney, and becomes aware thet /something/ is sniffing at her robe. The
sensation moves to her hands, and, looking down, Mikani meets the eyes of her
lifemate for the first time. She drops to her knees, oblivious to everything
but that spicy presemce before her. "Caedmith. He says his name's Caedmith!"
She feels like swooning, and then there he is, supporting her with his love.
"Caedmith." she repeats yet again, awed.

All of a sudden the egg before May splits and there is a nice little blue baby
warbling in its wake. He sits there and peers at the shells as if he doesn't
quite get what just happened. May stands with her mouth open in mild shock,
its a /blue/! The blue seems to catch that and looks up at her, warbling in
amusement before swinging his little tail out and up and wobbling past May,
she's cute, but not his type. May flaps her mouth as if she had something to
say, but she cant quite get it out. She then realizes how silly she must look
and quickly claps her mouth shut and furrows her brow, glaring quite intently
now. Cheers again go up and she looks over to see Mikani and her new lifemate
sharing that dreamy look. Not quite so cheery now she almost snaps, "Congrats
Mik.. Mink?" it was some thing like that.

Kora sees Mikani Impress and smiles. A good match!

Dallaney battles for a semblance of dignity. Her jaw gapes faintly.
"Caedmith," the tomboy whispers, not looking up. She can move towards
Ulerae, though, and does. Growl. "Don't know." Maybe she'll sneak a peek
up. A tiny one.

"Bravo! Caedmith is such a pretty name, Mikani!" That's Ulerae, of course,
caroling about cheerfully.

Eyochai engages in a brief tussle with Kezasuth. "You can't call me Eyochai,"
she repeats. "I told you. S'not my name." A pause, a few blinks. "No, Yo-yo
does not work either." Blinkblink. "Not Eyo-vil, either." Blinkblink. "No."
Blinkblink. "/No/. Absolutely not." A blush, and she changes the subject.
"Look, Keza. Mikani!"

Noa makes a little shoo-shoo motion as baby dragons threaten. You're far to
bumbly to appriciate good, hard, work. Gardner cheers as Caedmith does his
thing. "Mik, ya' snagged one!" The sands now nearly empty, she dusts off her
hands in satisfaction, and shoves them into pockets. "Good stuff."

"Oh shardit," Dallan grunts at Ule's carols, deigning to dance about a little.
"There's just him right? The clumsy one." And she's one--in a million white
robes.

Kora digs a little in the sand with her toes, hoping that (like any other
stretch of sand) there will be cooler sand underneath. But no. The further
she digs the hotter it gets, until it's too hot to keep going with bare feet.
Oh well. It was worth a shot. She glances at her fellow Candidates, looking
to see if they are as nervous as she is.

Ulerae nods solemnly, wrinkling her nose. "Maybe he'll go to you? I'm not
going to Impress, I know, because I'm just a filler in the Candidate ranks,
but maybe you could?"

Aire whimpers faintly, the heat of the Sands eating through the soles of her
sandals to chew away at her feet. She allows herself the weakness; Impress
Aidubaith is all the buff, macho, show-offiness she needs.

Mink turns towards Eyochai and her lifemate, who are moving past on their way
to the side. "He changed my name, Echo. He called me Mink." One hand is
wrapped lovingly about her brown's neck, and she tries to gently urge
Caedmith to where the Weyrlingmaster awaits them. "C'mon, Caed. They'll have
food over here." At the mention of the word 'food', the brown immediately
halts his bumbling attempts at feling explaoration and moves with unerring
grace towards the side of the sands.

Self-Conscious Lt. Barklay Brown Hatchling doesn't like cucumber-lovers
anyway! He siddles to the left of Noa and sniffs at Ulerae. From the darkest
recess of his soul...er...or maybe his stomach...he takes a huge, rumbling
snuffle of this candidate...and shakes his head. That isn't it, either. Maybe
if he fired up the old quantum braincells and hummed really hard he'd find
his boy. And then he stops. Organized people of the world eat your heart
out. There is room in this world for imperfection and creativity, yes? He
turns away from Ule and sniffs again.

Dallaney denies with a sharp, short shake of her head. "If /you're/ a filler,
I could be too." She glares challenge; turns it at the brown right next to
Ulerae. "See?" He's here.

Nest smiles as she watches the brown still deciding who to follow, glancing
every now and then at the new weyrlings to see that they are alright. Eyes
flick around and she waits for the next impression, gesturing at Mink and
Caedmith to come join the others.

Echo points out to Mink; "Y'don't have to do what he tells you to. It's a..."
She pauses to find the term. "A give'n'take relationship. He doesn't always
get his way." And Eyo will always get her way. "No. Not Yech." A wrinkle of
nose to Keza. "Aren't you hungry, dear?"

Kora grins at the brown, an expression of fellowship wreathing her features.
She says to nobody in particular "Hey, he reminds me of me, somehow. Maybe
it's the tripping. . . "

Self-Conscious Lt. Barklay Brown Hatchling pauses before the hazel-eyed girl,
tilting his head in almost nonchalant curiousity while his very existance
probes the girl's inner layers for that special link. He is not long in
Chosing, rather it's a matter of laying claim upon the soul in front of him.
The instant their patterns of inner selves match, he moves to capture the
gaze of Dallaney. Resistance is futile. His key fits her lock perfectly as
gazes clash and then meld, and in that instant she is his; and he is hers.
There will be no more being left standing for this mahogany-haired weyrling.
Dall has been assimilated!

A soothing warmth trickles into your soul, persistantly touching and feeling;
searching for your elusive Self. Then with an overwhelming suddenness the
dam breaks, flooding all your senses until your Self becomes swirling sienna,
vibrant coral melon, and brilliant scarlet. Amongst the riot of color comes
a rich esoteric voice, reverberating through your very soul, until all you
know is that ethereal voice that speaks so intimately with your very being.
<< My mind has spun dreams of gossamer of my perfect One. Your soul speaks
to me in a way that can only mean you are the One. >> There is a long
heart-stopping pause , and then the voice returns, a near whisper of it's
former self. << I am Nhaeth. I am the mate to your soul. Together we shall
ride the waves of dreams. It was pre-ordained. >>

Leigha moves with military precision toward Weyrling Barracks.
Nest walks toward Weyrling Barracks.
Aire shuffles toward Weyrling Barracks.
N'am walks toward Weyrling Barracks.
S'olan lopes coltishly toward Weyrling Barracks.
Llywith waddles toward Weyrling Barracks.
Saine stumbles toward Weyrling Barracks.
Jaath waddles toward Weyrling Barracks.
Aline walks with a sense of half-insecurity, half-courage, in her steps toward
Weyrling Barracks.
Mink strolls, hips gently swaying, toward Weyrling Barracks.
Circeoth waddles toward Weyrling Barracks.

Food! Echo and Kezasuth follow the summons, again side by side.

Aidubaith waddles toward Weyrling Barracks.
Laenaoth waddles toward Weyrling Barracks.
Echo skulks toward Weyrling Barracks.
Caedmith waddles toward Weyrling Barracks.

Dallaney stumbles, mumbles. "Nhaeth!" she pauses, bending to scratch a
headknob. "Enough already." Off they go, presumably.

May looks around for one of the other yellow eggs but is only finding shells
now. With so few left it finally begins to hit her, that lovely reality.
Panic. She turns around and around but it seems like all the eggs have
hatched, or at least all the ones she had pegged for gold. She looks quickly
to the rows of newly impressed to make sure she didn't miss the girl and
goldie found someone else, but no saffron brightness gleams there. She sighs
at that, least she didn't loose to someone else. Twirling she catches the
impression of Dallen and her brown, a sinking feeling making her call a bit
of a whimper, "Congrats Dallen..." but where is /her/ dragon???!

"Told you!" On both accounts, Ulerae is smug, and most certainly happy,
surveying the sands. "Now I can /finally/ go back to be not-drudge-like."
Miss that power, don't you know. "Great job, Dallan!"

Nhaeth waddles toward Weyrling Barracks.

Gamma takes a deep breath and smiles at Dallaney, shooing her off the sands
after the other newest weyrlings. "Congratulations, weyrling." Turning toward
those left on the sands she takes an even deeper breath. "That's it,
candidates. If you didn't impress, please follow me." She holds her hand in
the air.

Weyrling Barracks

When not in use, the barracks has an almost barren look to it. Plain in decor
and fairly spacious, the area often seems almost crowded when there are
Weyrlings despite the capaciousness the barracks offers. Dragon couches, set
a uniform length apart, are orbited by cots and presses for the non-winged
half of the pairs. The pool that has been set aside for the sole use of the
Weyrlings is to the south and the Weyrlings' Grounds is northwest.

Perched somewhere up high, you see Chewbacca, Boo, Spitter, Dewdrop, Vintage,
Roca, Han, and Setebos.
You see Igen Weyrling Chart and Thanks SearchCo! here.
Leigha, Nest, N'am, S'olan, Saine, Aline, Mink, and Echo are here.
The following dragons are here: Llywith, Jaath, Circeoth, Aidubaith, Laenaoth,
Kezasuth, Caedmith, and Nhaeth
From here you can go:
Pool             Weyrling Grounds           WeyrlingMaster's Office

Eir has arrived.
Eir finishes whatever note she was writing and pays attention again.

Inky dollops of dusty rose salmon coalesce the creases of his vast expanse of
seasoned black cherry hide, cluttering into gangly extremities seeped in
sepia before vanishing beneath of facade of dusky darkness. Sleek sheets of
lengthy mocha-washed wings drizzled with an ethereal edge of frosty pink
coral veins engulf him, cluttering the smooth, rounded ridges that bud from
his elongated neck and rosewood headknobs, leaving only a whim of the large,
expressive eyes that light his nervous triangular head. Hints of deep well
metallicy limn his soot-smudged physique, creating golden glimpses that
overshadow the disproportions and discrepancies and glitter the lengthy
starscape frame from rich hazelnut tail to clever ebon talons with heroic
motes of succulent, suffering incandescence.
Nhaeth is 0 days old.

-

Angel by Sarah McLachlan

Spend all your time waiting
for that second chance
for a break that would make it okay
there's always one reason
to feel not good enough
and it's hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction
oh beautiful release
memory seeps from my veins
let me be empty
and weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight

in the arms of an angel
fly away from here
from this dark cold hotel room
and the endlessness that you fear
you are pulled from the wreckage
of your silent reverie
you're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort there

so tired of the straight line
and everywhere you turn
there's vultures and thieves at your back
and the storm keeps on twisting
you keep on building the lie
that you make up for all that you lack
it don't make no difference
escaping one last time
it's easier to believe in this sweet madness oh
this glorious sadness that brings me to my knees

in the arms of an angel
fly away from here
from this dark cold hotel room
and the endlessness that you fear
you are pulled from the wreckage
of your silent reverie
you're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort there
you're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort here

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