Ista Weyr Log: Safriath and Taineth's Hatching, May 2010

Safriath and Taineth's Hatching - May 30, 2010

The thrumming of dragons blankets the entire weyr. The candidates are marched onto the sands, passed Safriath and Taineth and instructed to perform a quick bow before they move forward. Once that task is complete, the form a loose semi-circle around the eggs. Most of the young people are various levels of nervous and a few girls clump together in anxious pairs and trios.

Nenita stands back from the eggs, leaning into Safriath's side while the thrum of dragons fills the cavern. She sighs and smiles with tolerence when the first of the candidates come in. More than anything relief begins to fill her face and she becomes a little fidgety. She moves from foot to foot and casts a glance over in Ch'son's direction, wondering before she shoots another look out to the eggs as they begin to form a circle around them.

Usually laid-back and relaxed, even Saiyah can't quite manage to be cool at this point for a couple of reasons; one - it's a hatching and she's just been ushered out to bow to two huge dragons, and two - she's struck by a fit of coughing that she directs into her fist, sniffling after. Even so, she'll fight to maintain her usual focus on her surroundings, pale eyes glassy, but sharp and bright on the eggs. She shuffles around to get closer to Eirlys, giving the blonde a sidelong glance.

Vyshani it would seem has taken a couple of the younger girls in hand, speaking quietly and encouragingly with them as everyone gets placed. "Don't /cling/ so. And stop fussing Meila, everyone looks ridiculous in these things." Keeping herself calm by attempting to calm others.

Eirlys appears to have lost the ability to maintain her overly-casual detachment from her surroundings and looks openly agitated once she's completed her bow and moved off again. For a moment, she bites down on her bottom lip, then shakes her head and tries to smooth features back out, leaving her to sharp looks and the occasional twitch whenever something catches her attention. And, with that much happening, it leaves her seeming just plain jumpy. She just about manages to meet Saiyah's glance, murmuring, "You alright?" with unusual concern.

Ch'son looks like crap, to put it lightly. Whatever plague has been spreading through the Weyr caught him at some point. At least that means he didn't try to show up here without being fully dressed. In fact, with his arms crossed like that where he leans against the bronze, he might have been considering putting on his flight jacket. Taineth is more vigilant in watching the candidates, sitting up tall and proud and probably trying to look intimidating.

Lackluster, halfhearted movements from some of the eggs at the beginning, especially the Compensating Egg, mediocre as it is. But somehow when that egg cracks open, first of them all, it spills out an impressively gleaming bronze who picks his rider out from the lineup in record time. After that, two others follow suit; a sleek little green to a girl from Nerat, and a blue to an athletic young man. Other eggs soon start to move.

The ebullience Anileas carries with him onto the sands is provoked by nerves. All restless energy through the whole procession and barely still enough to make the bows, he quickly starts trading positions around that circle and gravitating towards Eirlys and Saiyah. "I look like a girl in this robe," he complains, nearly missing the first Impression. It happens too quick, catches him off-guard, and the speed of it is enough to make him focus into strict rigidity. "Crap."

Nenita catches how terrible Ch'son looks when she does another glance over, sort of a double-take. Her eyes narrow and she looks almost annoyed with his current state. But maybe she doesn't realize he looks like crap because he's sick-sick as opposed to being drunk-sick. She pushes off of Safriath who only mildly complains before allowing her rider to go, she has better things to watch than the little people. The goldrider trails a hand long Taineth before she rests next to his rider, "What's wrong with you? Why do you look like you're about to die?"

Cracks appears over Glass of Glitter Egg, lace fractures turning to jagged fissures, releasing the gooey contents to drip down from the breaks in its smooth surface. A chunk of one side falls away, and then another, splitting three ways before it opens to reveal a small green dragon, curled tightly as if still held by her ovoid cage.

Obscuring all but the faintest glimpses of dreamy, cosmic darkness, a vibrant chaos of peacock and teal spreads across the slim shoulders and haunches, down to the tip of this lithe green's sinuous tail. Forever destined to want filling out, hers is a young, coltish figure. Youth is found, too, in her wide-eyed expression, augmented by pale specks, freckles of light that dance across her rounded cheeks and climb to the tips of small, curved headknobs. A touch of peridot illuminates the gentle ridges playing follow the leader down her neck and back, while her lean belly shows a shadowy marbling of malachite stretching up across her sides to where those starry hints shine again, errant spots of light amid the whorls of rich blue-greens. Her thin limbs might be gangly were it not for the guileless grace with which she moves, and held by delicate spars, too long and slender, her wings show the celestial darkness of diaphanous green over star-strewn night.

After another cough, Saiyah assures Eirlys in a low croak, "Better than I was." She taps her fist to chest a couple of times, like it'll loosen something up. She doesn't look quite as crappy as say, the Weyrleader, but face and stance show some sign of weariness even if her expression and attitude lean more towards nervous paranoia - especially when the eggs start cracking. To the blonde, "You?" Vyshani and the kids get a glance before Anileas and his complaints warrant a look of disbelief. "/That's/ what you're worried about."

Taineth's intimidating act doesn't hold up very well when a bronze breaks shell first. He barely even notices Nenita as she approaches his rider. Ch'son glances out toward the hatching dragons, clearly not sharing his lifemate's enthusiasm at the moment. "I /am/ about t' die. I think y' should fire your shardin' headwoman. Send her t' the mines." The last is more grumbled but probably still clear enough to Nenita.

Vyshani reaches out to place a soothing hand on one of her companion's shoulder, her lips moving in an almost continuous stream of chatter. No surprise there, really. She grins and points, as hatchlings start spilling out of their eggs. Though from time to time her gaze lifts away from the sands, her brows furrowed as she tries to catch sight of family and friends in the stands.

The Luminescent Greenery Egg convulses, sides breathing in and out, only to explode under the pressure within. A flash of sunlit, grassy green hide catches the eye as the hatchling spreads her wings wide and lets out a triumphant, delighted bugle to finally be free of her shell. Looking around with keen interest in her gaze and a faint flicker of orange-red, the Valiant Efflorescent Green strides forth boldly.

Sunlight shining through broad-bladed, dark-veined grass bathes this green's sturdy frame with the brightness of budding shoots just touched by a passing rain shower. Moss seems to cling to all four paws, growing upward like nature's own velvet only to give way to a pattern of overlapping leaves with many-layered shades from dark to light across her haunches and back. A rounded tummy touched with the softness of newly unfurled petals and wide hindquarters add to an overall impression of supple solidity. Beams of chartreuse slant through leafy cover along the dappled lines of her shoulders, where the promise of strength lurks in the shadows. When spread, her wings form a translucent canopy, speckled with pale yellow-green that shimmers like dew in a morning meadow. Spring-hued highlights accent the gradual creep of ridges along her neck, grace the planes of a noble face and crown the intent gaze of deep-set eyes. Despite a cuddliness to her form, there is latent power in the way she moves, with all the instinct and fluidity of feline.

Eirlys smirks, even if it's a shaky effort, and tells Anileas, "Then we're all girls together," in a dry voice, her gaze on the eggs rather than her fellow candidates. "I assume the dragons can tell the difference, despite that." She blinks. "I hope." Though she doesn't look back to Saiyah, she takes a half-step closer to her despite the risk of getting whatever it is that she's got, maybe thinking that less distance will help should there be any keeling over. "Fantastic," she says, in that same dry voice, very faint humour there.

Fortunately for Anileas, all the other boys and young men tensely positioned around the eggs also look like girls, so he's not alone in his gender-issues out there. "Just saying," he answers Saiyah while looking elsewhere, trying to keep track of what's happening with the eggs. He can't help but sound intimidated when he notices, "They're fast."

Nenita leans close against her Weyrleader, narrowing her eyes up at him. "You're going to die, for real? Can you wait to do it until you're off of the sands?" The part about sending the headwoman to the mines as her making a face and shaking her head. "I'm absolutely not shipping Loe off to the mines. Are you insane? What did she do to you?"

As the Hatching goes on, other eggs are still hatching, other hatchlings still finding their mates among the white-robed Candidates. The Ocean's Depths Egg yields a blue the electric color of tropical sea, while the Beating Heart Egg's occupant is a brown the color of--well, somebody someday will come up with a complimentary word for it that doesn't rhyme with 'comet'. One dark little egg almost explodes into a brown who finds his partner in a young Smith.

Dream's Nebula Green blinks and slowly unfurls one wing, her eyes following as it reaches up above her. What a lovely thing it is to finally stretch! She simply must try it with all her limbs. A full-body extension has her sprawling momentarily across her egg's remnants and then, with some maneuvering, she gets to her feet and turns her attention to the wonderful world around her. There is just so much going on here.

"Apparently, they can tell all sorts of things, so I think they'll figure it out. Otherwise, things might get interesting?" Saiyah's managed to clear her voice to near-normal, now just sort of congested and miserable and anxious as she watches the dragon emerge from the eggs, glassy gaze trying to keep up, briefly settling on the sprawling, stretching green. "You and me both," she tells Eirlys. And presumably to Anileas, "Yeah, quick enough once they're out. Making me jumpy." Jumpier.

Ch'son moves a hand to push Nenita back away from him with a tight glare to emphasize the action. "Ain't makin' any promises," he growls, evidently not amused by things he'd usually be taking in easy stride. "I can take her myself. She's the one as got me sick. Crazy--" Whatever he was going to say there, Taineth is having a hard time sitting still as he watches his babies hatching. He shifts forward, enough to make Ch'son have to balance then rumbles something excited to his queen.

Valiant Efflorescent Green puts one too-large paw down into a piece of shell as she takes a first few steps away from the remains of her egg. It crackles underfoot and her head dips to take in the the fractured bits. That paw lifts, turns over and she looks for a moment, then shakes the debris off and lets out another warble, leaps forward with a sureness that belies her just-born-seconds-ago age. There's eggs hatching! And her sister over there! The other green gets a bugle of greeting, but then she pauses, head lifting as her gaze hones in on ... /candidates/. Determinedly she makes her way over to one end of the ring and starts examining each person on the sands closely.

Vyshani's attention is pulled back to the more important goings on in front of her when the youngest of the two girls she's 'adopted' starts tugging on her arm. "Yes yes I see," she assures, gently disengaging her elbow from the girl's grip and giving her a hand instead. Holding it together rather well, but her smile is far more nerves than excitement as dark eyes track back and forth, watching.

Nenita lifts her eyebrows at the cranky ass bronzerider and flaps her hand at him when he goes to push her away. "Don't even think about it. Don't be such a jerk, I didn't get you sick." She gives him an annoyed look before shifting a little bit away from him on her own. Which is good because suddenly Taineth is moving around back there and now Safriath is getting all excited. Maybe she does like the baby dragons. A little bit.

Sunstruck Waves Egg rocks back and forth in its sandy depression. Rock, rock, split. A crack appears straight down the middle, through whitecaps and the lake itself. With another jerk the hatchling inside shatters the shell the rest of the way. Blue tone pieces go flying and left there in the middle of it all is a sandy brown dragon. He shakes his head to try and whip off any goop that might remain.

Sand whips across the hide of this sepia-toned dragon, settling heavily over the clean cut muscles of his long solid figure. He's substantial without being cumbersome; he moves with an unusual amount of deliberate purpose. While his color might be considered bland, it is when the light hits the etchings of his sturdy build that its true brilliance shines. Glints of illumination reflect back like granules speckling his otherwise even hide. Polished limestone lays contrast to the heavy deposits of grit that have collected on the sweeping expanse of his wide wings and the breadth of shoulders and haunches. Bright sunrise glares from his neckridges, precisely placed in a series of sharp crests that stamp their mark along his neck until his head is reached. Bands of dark brown over his eyeridges create the illusion of true brows, balancing the angles of his square jaw, and his slanted eyes are rimmed with near-black to lend an exotic air to his determined gaze.

Eirlys finds a snort to go with that not-quite-proper smirk of hers, inclining her head Saiyah's way. "Maybe the making boys look like girls thing is an attempt to slow the dragons down," she considers aloud, directed to present company in general. "Not that it seems to be working, mind..." She eases her shoulders back, trying to turn the gesture into a shrug. "They sure seem to know what they're doing, anyhow."

"Yeah, like maybe you'd get a bronze sniffing up your skirt." Anileas' remark is an idle continuation of what Saiyah said until he glances across at her and makes a half-hearted effort at baiting her. "Though with you, who knows. Maybe one will anyway." He licks his lips and uneasily shifts, not sure where to look anymore, because: "There's a lot of them out there now." This observation is not entirely comfortable.

Dream's Nebula Green likes this idea her green sister has--checking out those fun creatures in white all nervously shifting about. She starts to head out to do the same, but gets distracted when she suddenly takes note of the galleries. That could be a fun place to explore, too, though it seems like it might be a bit troublesome to get up there.

Ch'son shoots the Weyrwoman another look for calling him a jerk. But whatever response he was going to give is clenched in his jaw instead when she backs away on her own. Shows him for trying to keep her from getting sick. He glances out at the hatching eggs again, trying not to look quite so cross with the world right now. Taineth more than makes up the slack, though, warbling and crooning encouragement to the hatchlings. He's mostly forgotten about the candidates at this point.

Valiant Efflorescent Green examines every face, the way each candidate stands as she nears and ultimately passes by. For a moment she might give one lad fits as she cranes her neck and puts herself eye-to-chin with him, but she turns away after a moment and prances onward, only to pause and look the length of her own back and flicks her tail back and forth twice. How /interesting/! The flutter of another white robe, of a dragon and a candidate coming together, a name called out loud brings her focus back to those waiting and she lets out a soft croon of approval as an impression is made and skips around that pair to examine the next lone white-robed figure.

As the Hatching goes on, other eggs are still hatching, other hatchlings still finding their mates among the white-robed Candidates. The Ocean's Depths Egg yields a blue the electric color of tropical sea, while the Beating Heart Egg's occupant is a brown the color of--well, somebody someday will come up with a complimentary word for it that doesn't rhyme with 'comet'. One dark little egg almost explodes into a brown who finds his partner in a young Smith.

Another green, a brown - Saiyah's marking them with widened green eyes, getting more anxious the more impressing and inspecting that happens and the closer it gets to her. Still, she'll manage a smirk - that's wiped off her face with another spate of hacking coughs. If a few candidates move away, she wouldn't blame them. But no keeling over, yet. "Well, did hear it was to make us look all the same, so you might have something there," she notes when she has her breath again. As for Anileas, she just grins at the very idea, and shrugs. "You never know."

Too bad Nenita doesn't know that the earlier glare was really supposed to beneficial for her and not just... jerkiness. She occasionally glances at him from time to time but for the most part is now keeping her distance from the bronzerider, instead focusing her attention on the whirl of activity out there on the sands.

Satirical Sandstone Brown cranes his neck this way and that way, like he's stretching. All of the candidates are given a look and it's like he sighs when he shakes his head. Well, isn't this just great. All these choices. Taking careful steps, he begins to make his rounds allowing just enough time to be fair when he meets a new face. But each time he stops, it's only temporary because he just moves off again.

Eirlys can't summon whatever force she might need to laugh, though shoots a long look at Anileas, the duration of time the longest that she's glanced away from eggs and hatchlings. Maybe she'll remember and laugh later. "Do we look back if they look at us? Or do we pretend we haven't noticed? Or what?" she murmurs low, perhaps not even seeking answers.

Dream's Nebula Green is nearly overwhelmed by all these options. She sits back on her haunches to flutter her wings in delight at all the excitement surrounding her. There are so many things for her to discover and yet there is only one that actually catches and holds her attention. With a sudden resurgence of enthusiasm, she springs into action again, trotting right up to a certain mousy girl and looking up at her adoringly.

Running Man Egg, silent until now, makes a sudden tip forward. Then it's all silence. But then again it moves, dropping onto its side this time. A crack appears along the appearance of hazy fog and within moments the shell splits open. From within, a small green tumbles onto the sands and shakes her head before examining the sands with the sweep of her gaze.

Lean and sinewed, every detail speaks of a high performance machine built for both strength and speed but expressed in smooth curves of glossy molten green. A skilled craftsman molded her, giving this small, agile dragon an aerodynamic frame beneath an exterior of sumptuous luxury. Emerald streaks sideswipe her finely shaped head and along the angle of keen, tilted eyes. Similar brilliance glistens along the peaks of her small, windswept headknobs and the crest of ridges racing down her sleek neck. At haunch, knee and the arc of her chest, the gleam of her hide brightens from even hunter to perfect mint while low points pick up dramatic shadows, a contast that accentuates every clean line of her elegant form. Her wings arch long and narrow, announcing her agility before she gets in the air, and even in their translucence they carry a glossy depth of color that paints her sails in opulent darkness.

Anileas glances back to Saiyah and grins this time when he declares, "I don't want to know what you've got under there." The jibe stands as an effort to maintain his cool, but his reoccurring inability to keep still contradicts his attempted nonchalance. Nevertheless, he has to admit to Eirlys, "I don't really know."

Eilath nudges her green head against Nyssa, her Nyssa. There's no time to waste now. The joys of finding her partner are quickly fading into a hunger that turns the happy hue of her eyes to starving crimson. At the beckoning of the weyrlingmaster, the new pair head off the sands.

Vyshani tips her head, murmuring something into the younger girl's ear that happily stops the sudden spate of hopping. To the slightly older Meila, her words are almost sharp, "Stop tugging, or you'll be showing more than your legs. Your stitching is starting to give." A pointed tap goes to a shoulder, before the hand is used to gesture outward again. "There're still some searching, so pay attention now." And ignore her own break into fidgeting, thanks.

The Walking Dead Egg has been shambling about for a bit now without making any real effort to hatch; when the Flaming Man Egg collides with it, both eggs crack. The dark blue among the fiery shards is the first out, but he almost gets bitten by the stone-and-khaki colored occupant of the other. Against all good sense, a kid from the Seahold runs forward, almost gets mauled, instead gets led away with his brown by an assistant weyrlingmaster.

The Valiant Efflorescent Green takes a final look at a boy on the end of the ring of candidates and swings away, with a flip of her wings to her back. She's looked at everyone now, including her own clutch mates and her determined steps carry her back the way she came, paws pressing firmly into the sand, something joyful in the way she stalks her intended target. A fallen shard is kicked impatiently out of her way; a passing hatchling gets a rumble of warning when it looks like he might be headed towards her. Ultimately, she can't wait any longer and closes the distance in two, sure leaps, with a slight wobble on the last landing. Standing before a slender, almond-eyed young woman she leans her head against the girl's waist and lets out a deep sigh of satisfaction.

Ch'son, now that he's not having to worry about people being close to him, watches the hatchlings a little more easily. It could be that some of Taineth's bountiful excitement is bleeding over, too. Dang dragon.

With a roll of her eyes for Anileas, Saiyah is quick to go back to watching what's going on - in time to catch Nyssa with the green staring up at her in adoration. Despite anxiousness, she flashes a grin for that - and tells Eirlys, "Think you look back? That's how it seems to work -- Did you just see Nyssa?"

Dangerously Decadent Green rolls a shapely shoulder, calm and cool as she looks out across the chaos of the sands. Her talons spread and retract through the damp sand at her feet and it's with an air of leisure that she starts forward for a little reconnaissance.

Satirical Sandstone Brown is really not satisfied with anyone that he's seen so far. Like anyone that's young and has just been hatched he's inclined towards getting just a bit frustrated when he can't find what he wants right away. His eyes whirl with some yellow-red and he stops, stares and then goes straight to the candidates again.

Vyshani jumps in startlement as both her charges suddenly abandon her, with a squeal and a gasp, respectively. For her part she's still trying to figure out which direction to dodge in when that head comes to rest upon her middle and her expression becomes utterly stunned. Hesitantly, shaking hands are brought to rest upon the sticky green hide. "Laonyth?" Barely breathed out. Then, in a sudden triumphant shout, "Laonyth!" And the Bollian hits her knees, tears falling unheeded down her cheeks. "Never alone."

"Nyssa!" The girl's name is an inadvertent yelp on Anileas' lips, sounding more surprised than congratulatory. "Told you she'd get an annoying green," he yells over to Vyshani, making a judgment on the dragon's character on absolutely no basis and not caring less. But then Vyshani's got her own green, and the boy, watching, catches it all with his wide stare. "Hey, look at Vyshani," he prompts Saiyah and Eirlys with an elbow for whoever's closest.

Three of the remaining eggs, clustered together, are suddenly alive after barely moving until now. The first to hatch yields a brown who proceeds to run into both of the others before finding his way out towards the candidates and his new rider. The next is a bronze, squat but surprisingly fleet on his feet. The last, though, the Daredevil's Leap Egg hatches out a blue who looks like his joints weren't assembled quite right, all odd angles and awkward movements, who finds a skinny girl no less awkward. Her face lights up like a festival display.

Laonyth croons deep in her chest and wings spread a little, curving around Vyshani protectively. Her head presses against the girl's shoulder though, perhaps to urge her rider to her feet. One of the weyrlingmasters cuts through the chaos to the pair. "Vyshani? Congratulations, why don't you and your lovely green come with me? She must be hungry."

Eirlys shakes her head suddenly, the movement the beginnings of a shiver that twists her shoulders and, in the end, can't be transformed into anything but just that - a shiver. A grimace for letting it get the better of her and she mutters, "Suppose it's... polite," agreeing with Saiyah. Her eyes widen a little and now she looks this way and that, saying, "Nyssa? She-" No further than that does she get and her gaze moves sharply to try and seek out Vyshani. "Maybe she was right about dreaming," she breathes out.

Sardonic Relic Brown wanders past a group of boys, turning his head to look them over curiously. He gives a huff suddenly, not deeming any of them the appropriate one. He continues on his hunt, finally stopping before a young woman with straw colored hair. There, he has found the one and approaches her, his great brown head lowering as he presses his damp hide against her.

Vyshani's grin is as bright as the noon sun despite her tears, her joy a radiant thing. Barely aware of anything beyond the green -- /her/ green -- it takes her a couple moments to respond to that urging and clamber to her feet. Dazed, she stares blankly at the weyrlingmaster, before her face spasms. "Oh!" Clutching her own tummy, fingers knotting her robe, "Yes, yes that's hunger. C'mon sweety." With one hand at least always in contact with Laonyth, she'll manage somehow not to stagger regardless of still shaking as she follows along and leaves the sands.

Dangerously Decadent Green Hatchling eyes a knot of girls that cling together, but their cowardice means she dismisses them with a disgusted snort and a little flick of her tail. This chase is not nearly exciting enough, with all the white-clad lumps standing still, and she begins to settle back to wait for something more interesting to happen. But then she spots him across the sand and it is as obvious as can be that he is the perfect one. She dashes across the sand with surprising speed, sending a few candidates leaping out of her path, and with a flare of dark wings she skids to a halt in front of a dark haired young man.

Saiyah blinks over Vyshani's way when Anileas points her out - this /is/ all going fast - then has to let out a laugh that's closer to a bark with her throat the way it is. "Polite," she echoes, before anything else she might add to Eirlys is lost as the blonde suddenly has more pressing issues to deal with. Shaking her head a little, pushing stray locks back from her face, she just sort of stares for a moment or two before watching the action again.

Eirlys moves sharply again, lifting hands to above her waist to hover there as she stares and stares, hands curled into fists eventually creeping to press against her mouth. It's another few moments before she remembers how to move again and suddenly smiles an honest, proper smile, hidden though it may be. The rest of her body soon co-operates and her hands drop to touch brown hide, settle palms flat despite dampness. "Aruseth," she sighs out. Just one second more and she declares, "Hellos are over-rated. Come on, let's go."

Even with all the nervous excitement, the heat, the Impressions, the whole event has had a touch of the surreal for Anileas, now A'nas, who now finds himself staring at the sleek green before him with clear astonishment. "Yours," he agrees unthinkingly, reaching down to touch her and ignoring everything else. He breathes out her name a second later, wonderingly. "Ihrulith. Food, let's get you fed."

Aruseth nudges her with his head again. He really is hungry. When she leads the way to the barracks, he goes along with her (no trailing behind here), only stumbling once or twice on his still very new legs. There's definitely some happy crooning mixed in there on their walk off the sands.

The eggs dwindle as more hatch, a green here and a blue there, so much of the clutch now reduced to shards on the sands. Then there's only one, the Blank Blueness Egg. Which could hatch into... what? Anything at all. A great big bronze. A sleek blue the same color as the egg. A wherry. A fruit pie. Well, probably not a wherry or a fruit pie. What it does hatch is a green so tiny she can hardly have filled up the egg, who makes the last Impression. It's done.

Ihrulith swings herself against A'nas' side, a motion that looks like it might bump him off his feet but in reality just brushes along his legs. She looks up at him with a wry tilt to her head, before a weyrlingmaster steps foward to lead them off.