Date   

Re: Hatching - Wings of Vengeance (ATTN: Miacca/Aelloth, Isirdux)

Mya L. R.
 

On Sat, Sep 5, 2020 at 8:02 PM Jerzy Tobin <jerzytobin@...> wrote:
Isirdux whimpered as the claws found the hem of his robe and pulled
down, sinking into his leg at the same time.  'Don't kick!' he
thought. 'Don't do something to set her off!'  But oh, it was hard not
to want to kick out at the dragonet.  His chest stung, and those claws
in his leg weren't any better.  But he was still alive.  He could
survive scratches!  Shard it all, couldn't she move on and leave him
alone?

Then he heard someone saying something, trying to stop the dragonet.
Despite the tears in his eyes, and the fear, Isirdux dared to peek
through his arms, hoping against hope that he was going to be saved.

The second forefoot hung, still threatening, over that leg but the attention Aelloth once fixed onto Isirdux shifted away, leaving the male Candidate to, instead, fix her whirling gaze onto Miacca.  {{Surely we can't let wrongdoers go free, he will go do bad.  That is what wrongdoers do.}}

There was the wrongdoer phrase again, Miacca took a deep breath and exhaled it, gathering the thoughts that'd been previously blown to Faranth knew where by Impression.  "I'm aware that is what they do, hence the name, wrongdoer but he hasn't done anything wrong."  She paused and waited expectantly for Aelloth to react to her words.

Aelloth wiggled, twitched, she couldn't stand still even while she considered what Miacca said about this wrongdoer, or maybe wrongdoer.  The gaze she'd removed from the Candidate swung sharply back around, back onto Isirdux and she lowered her head, huffing a breath out into his face.  {{Are you absolutely sure he's not?  He sure looks like he knows he has been caught doing something bad.}}
 
--
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Member Name: MyaL
Discord: Neffeyn#8723


Hatching - First Queenly Feeding ((Attn: Calyse, Kashara, Any))

 

Guiding the new gold toward food didn’t take much effort, the dragonet’s drive to eat after Hatching a strong enough instinct that all Calyse needed to do was point her in the right direction. The AWLMs along the sides had fresh-cut meat ready and waiting for the new dragonets, and Calyse moved with Andorath in tow to the cluster of their new clutchmates. 


((I hunger terribly, you will feed me!)) Andorath demanded of her rider, shoving her way through the line of baby weyrlings to access the food platters. 


“Andorath, no! You have to go slow, you can’t just bully in!” Calyse was quick to chastise, scrambling to impose her will on the pushy female. As she settled into the routine of stuffing chunks of meat into the open waiting maw of her dainty gold, she turned to the others nearby. 


“I’m s-so sorry about her. I won’t let-- Kashara!” Her face lit, changing instantly from apologetic to delighted to spy her friend. “You Impressed, too!”


The Nightmare is Over, Right? Att: Isirdux/Lan

Jerzy Tobin
 

His first ever Hatching had been a disaster, but at least he'd made it
out alive, right? There were bloody marks on both his chest and his
thigh, but neither injury was actually life threatening. His robes
were ruined, but he'd be around to make another set. That's what he
kept telling himself as things began to get sorted out, and a healer
was called over to check and tend to his wounds.

--
"Life is NOT a journey to the grave with the goal of arriving safely
in a prettily preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways in a
shower of gravel and party shards, thoroughly used, utterly exhausted,
and loudly proclaiming: "F*** ME, that Rocked!!" -unknown

Whizzy: Jerzy
Aim: Yue146


Re: Hatching - Wings of Vengeance (ATTN: Miacca/Aelloth, Isirdux)

Jerzy Tobin
 

At the movement, Aelloth jerked her head back, more surprised over it being the upper portion that had moved. {{You won't get away from me, you...you wrongdoer!}} She stretched her claws out once more and slammed them down onto the white hem, her shoulder putting enough force behind it that they lowered down with her. That Miacca wore something white...well the green hadn't really seen anything beyond the fact that Miacca was there with her. She raised her other forefoot which brought it over the Candidate's thigh.

Her green was moving, her green was slamming her forefoot down onto the other Candidate's Hatching Robes. The Impression sank in enough that Miacca was beginning to process more than just Aelloth's beautiful, smooth floating name and...there was something about the other Candidate being a wrongdoer? Miacca shook her head while she finally lurched into motion, dropping onto her knees and wrapping her arms around Aelloth. "No! No, that isn't necessary, we don't have to catch him!"
Isirdux whimpered as the claws found the hem of his robe and pulled
down, sinking into his leg at the same time. 'Don't kick!' he
thought. 'Don't do something to set her off!' But oh, it was hard not
to want to kick out at the dragonet. His chest stung, and those claws
in his leg weren't any better. But he was still alive. He could
survive scratches! Shard it all, couldn't she move on and leave him
alone?

Then he heard someone saying something, trying to stop the dragonet.
Despite the tears in his eyes, and the fear, Isirdux dared to peek
through his arms, hoping against hope that he was going to be saved.


--
"Life is NOT a journey to the grave with the goal of arriving safely
in a prettily preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways in a
shower of gravel and party shards, thoroughly used, utterly exhausted,
and loudly proclaiming: "F*** ME, that Rocked!!" -unknown

Whizzy: Jerzy
Aim: Yue146


Re: Hatching - Solving a Dark Puzzle #HatchingForeth2020

 

The Hatching seemed to dragon on for an eternity, though really no inordinate amount of time had passed. Calyse stood among the other girls, turning to watch as a few splintered off to join new lifemates down below. She was happy for them. Their wait was over and they were escaping unscathed, the screaming that echoed ominously in the Cavern proof that not all would walk away happy and unharmed that night. The sickening noises made her hair stand on end, made her body begin to shake from the surge of adrenaline. Fingers balled into fists at her sides as she willed the trembling to stop and focused on the golden eggs just as they began to Hatch.

Calyse gaped in awe. They were a stunning pair and willful if the proverbial butting of heads was anything to go by. She felt her stomach drop as they both tried to abandon the gathered Candidates, but Foreth's intervention had them turning back. It all seemed to happen so fast after that, the injuring of Shalia which made Calyse clap a hand over her mouth to cover the gasp that left her. They were so brutal! It was a shock to witness firsthand, and as both baby queens swung back in her direction she felt her resolve waver. For dragonets fresh from the shell, they were surprisingly quick. When they barreled toward her at speed, she took in a shivering breath to steel her composure and stared the twin heralds of deaths down as they charged, bracing for the impact that never came. The second gold darted elsewhere, further beyond where Calyse was standing.  The first came to an abrupt halt directly before her, tickling her bare legs with a spray of sand. 

((Calyse, you are mine. The world is a puzzle, but we will take it on together and conquer it.))

Breath caught in her throat. Savage scarlet orbs swirled rainbow with love as they stared into her eyes and were it not for the beautiful voice crystal clear in her mind, Calyse would not have been able to believe it. Tears sprang forth unbidden, streaking her cheeks even as she murmured adoringly, reaching forward to wrap her arms around that golden head. "Anything and everything, always together," she answered the baby queen. She'd have stood there forever engrossed in the sensations of warmth and togetherness she'd never before experienced, were it not for the growing hunger that gnawed in the pit of her stomach. Andorath needed food. She knew the steps, now it was time to put them into practice.

On Sat, Sep 5, 2020 at 12:51 PM sailyn2 <empressoftheworld@...> wrote:

Despite the horrendous start to the whole affair, the Healers bustling the mangled body of the Candidate away behind the covered screen of their own bodies and ushering the other Candidate who had gotten caught in the midst of the carnage off the Sands herself to tend to the wounds on her arms that streamed with blood, the fact was, the Hatching had to continue. And continue it did. However, there were still two eggs sitting up on the upper Caverns that no doubt, were at the forefront of many minds. Especially the female Candidates who were being called up according to those who had been approved to see the gold eggs in the first place and a few select others, to join Foreth in surrounding the two large, glittering eggs that were undoubtedly gold.


Perhaps the more ruthless or competitive of them might be quietly elated at seeing one of their competition removed. No doubt there may have been more than one thought that Ysolde might have been something of a shoe-in and if anyone had placed any bets, they might be sorely disappointed to watch the bloodied, distraught girl be gently led away by the Healers. There would be no Hatching for her. At least not today.


For those that had been called up to join Foreth, the tension cranked up a notch. But downstairs, eggs were still hatching and when they weren’t ripping apart Candidates, they were still going on to find their new Riders exactly as they were meant to be. Things will still going… more or less… to plan. Even if some of the hatchlings were, thus far, just downright creepy.


The lighting in the Upper Caverns was even dimmer than it was for the Lower Caverns. The area was tiny compared to down below with just enough room for Foreth, the eggs, two ACMs, and the Candidates. If the whole of the Candidates had had to fit up there, they might have had trouble, but with only the select group of girls that had been largely called up before the first egg cracked, there was plenty of room.


Downstairs there was a lot going on, but it seemed like the gold eggs were taking their time. Every Once in a while one or the other would give a twitch. Or maybe that was just the imagination of the girls who wanted the gold eggs.


Time ticked by while the sounds downstairs swelled each time a new Impression occurred. Then things began to happen.


A claw punctured near the top of the Gilded Cage Egg and twisted in a half circle until the gold inside pushed the way out like stepping through a door. The gold who stepped out took a powerful but dainty step forward as she shed her cage. She stopped to pose regally. Everything about her screamed femininity, her body the shimmering color of a lady’s finest gold colored dress.


((Finally, I am free!)) she bugled.


(( And you are loud. )) The disgruntled voice from inside the First Temptation Egg seemed to bristle with annoyance for all that the egg had barely even begun to quiver. It had sat solemnly quiet and still throughout all of the events thus far with only the occasional shiver of movement. It seemed that for all intents and purposes, the occupant was in far less of a hurry than her sister to step out into the world. The shimmering shell, so similar in texture to densely packed, clay soil began to sway a little, calmly beginning to rock from side to side as faint lines began to appear over the surface. (( I hope you are not always this tiresomely noisy. )) There was a distinct note of snobbery in the soft but very female voice as the lines began to spread faster and faster over the shell’s surface.


As if someone had shattered a mirror and watched the pieces fall to the ground, all of a sudden the shell seemed to collapse, cascading in pieces around a slender gold hatchling whose hide seemed to shift and swirl with various shades of gold all blending into one. Casting her nose into the air, the hatchling sniffed deeply, her tongue flickering out as though she were tasting the very air itself. (( Hmmm…. )) She said thoughtfully. (( … I smell death on the air… ))


((I hope you’re not always so creepy,)) the first gold said, her nose in the air. ((Actually, I hope you are, because who would welcome a creepy gold? A refined, beautiful gold like me will be much more adored and sought out.))


Above, Foreth rumbled with satisfaction, clearly not upset by the already apparent rivalry appearing and with no Kassia to control her, she was still doing exactly what she wanted even if that meant being willing to encourage and stop the actions between the golds at whim.


(( Oh joy, a vacuous airhead. What a delight. )) The occupant of the now thoroughly destroyed First Temptation egg stretched languidly, her mind-voice seeming thoroughly bored with the whole thing. Again the tendrils of a scent caught her attention and she cautiously sniffed the air. (( You are foolish if you cannot sense it. Terrible things have already happened tonight. Things that cannot be undone. Pay a little more attention to things other than your own vanity, foolish child. )) That she was exactly the same age - if not hatched a few minutes later - seemed to completely escape Nimoth as she stretched, each moment filled with an easy and captivating grace. 


((Maybe I’d be more likely to listen to you if you focused on more than the macabre.)) The first gold flicked her tail dismissively. ((I do appreciate you admitting that you’re ugly. Beauty can be used so neatly in so many ways. An ugly gold could do no such thing. Even if you’re smart, if you’re ugly you’ll have to work harder to be taken seriously because who would want to look at you? What is your name anyway? I’m sure it’s as hideous as you are.))


The sonorous bugle that came from the second gold was perhaps as close to a laugh as anyone could imagine a dragon being capable of making. (( Oh you dear, dear thing. I am well aware of my own wondrous beauty. Aware that I am perfection cast from a mold that would make artists weep with joy for the sheer sight of me. )) And despite her bragging, if it was that, there was a truth to her words. As she moved on her feet, it was evident that there was a graceful elegance to her proportions, even as a newborn. She had none of the evident clumsiness that was often so common in hatchlings, moving instead with an easy fluidity. (( Unlike yourself however, I feel no need to proclaim my glory. For I am already aware of it. And that is why I do not need to kowtow to your foolish prattling. Things have happened that you should pay heed to. ))


Flicking her wings, wings that were streaks with bright gold atop deep and aging tones, the gold neatly tucked her limbs into a sitting position. (( Though I care little for the thoughts you might have of my name, I suppose you shall have it. Let it be branded into your silly head that you might remember the name Nimoth! )) And Nimoth, for that was indeed her name, snorted derisively at her golden sister, clearly disdainful of her vanity and silly pride.


The first gold just snickered and flicked her tail dismissively. ((I am easily more perfect than you, dear one, though I have little need to call names. That’s the sign of lesser intelligence.)) And she was no less elegant and beautiful, her elegance and beauty just leant itself to more of a femininity than her sister. Foreth had done a good job, at least as far as looks went, with both young golds. ((And look at you posing as much as I do. You just sit like a common green instead of walking like me.))

To demonstrate, the slightly older gold sauntered across the sands, the meager light flashing across her golden baby body. She didn’t even bother to look back as the other gold proclaimed her name. ((Nimoth? A perfectly boring and ugly name, but it’s befitting of a younger, lesser gold. Not like Andorath which is befitting of an older, smart, more beautiful gold. But I will give you a gift. The gift of thinking you are anywhere near my equal.))


(( Mhmm. Whatever you say. )) There was a placid amusement to Nimoth’s voice as if to suggest that she wasn’t remotely interested in the opinions of her sister. And she wasn’t. Even fresh from her egg, Nimoth was already comfortably self-assured and did not need to proclaim it. Instead her quiet confidence radiated from her like a blazing aura and instead she cast her whirling gaze to her mother sitting high above them. (( Where are the others? I sense that there are more than us. But they are not here. Why is that? )) 


As far as Nimoth was concerned, her foolish sister could goad her all she liked. But she knew that there was something important happening. She could sense it all around her but could not quite fathom it.


((I don’t need more,)) Andorath replied. ((I’m good enough. I don’t know why I have to deal with you though.))

It was a puzzle, though Andorath didn’t want to admit it. She liked puzzles, but she didn’t like most dragons, she knew that already. Her sisters (not her golden brat of a sibling), she liked, but she knew instinctively that she wouldn’t like most of the other dragons so she wasn’t sure she wanted to solve the puzzle.


She looked over at the Candidates. ((Is that it? There should be more of those white things.)) She wasn’t sure how she knew that, but she did. She craned her back, way back, to see Foreth’s head. ((Are these all the white ones? Did the rest die? Is that why the Golden Brat over there is insisting that there was death?))


((No,)) Foreth rumbled with amusement. ((Those are the ones you pick from. Mine and I chose them specifically for you.))


Nimoth looked about her, large eyes taking in the darkness that touched the corners and gave the room creeping shadows. For some reason, the darkness pleased her greatly, even if she wasn’t sure why. Still carefully sitting, looking for all the world like the feline statues that graced mantles around Pern, the gold appeared to be contemplative. When her mother spoke, her whirling eyes flickered towards the group of gathered girls and she inspected them for several long moments before huffing and flicking her head away in disgust. They seemed incredibly boring. And nervous. She could sense it coming off them in waves. 


(( How did you chose them? )) She asked of Foreth imperiously. (( Is that all we have to choose from? What if we don’t like any of them? )) The choices seemed… well, very limited. Nimoth inspected the small gaggle of girls and seemed somewhat irritated, as if the very fact that a choice had been made on her behalf seemed to irk her somehow. She wanted to make her own decisions! And on top of all of that, she just couldn’t shake the feeling of something terrible having happened. Was it something that happened today? Something before? Nimoth was convinced that she could feel the echoes of terror all about her and it concerned her, concerned as well to some degree that her vain, foolish sister couldn’t appreciate that. (( Where are the rest of us? )) she insisted again, noting that her question had been ignored in favour of her sister’s own.


((You will choose from these,)) Foreth growled. It wasn’t a compulsion, but there was anger there that she was being questioned. If they didn’t like them, fine. But not the questioning. ((These are the ones that were the best. The others were not worthy of you. Pick someone else if you want, but they’ll be inferior.)) And Foreth might always think of either of them as inferior, especially the rude one, if they chose otherwise.


((There is a puzzle here,)) Andorath said, sniffing and looking around. The death was getting more to her than she wanted her annoying sister to know. ((I will worry about what has happened elsewhere once I have figured it out. The world is good up here. I have time to solve this puzzle and then I can deal with what has happened before. We need to know why the thing happened to something that happened before we can deal with it because we can not stop it now. I want to open the box before me and then I will know everything because it will tell me everything I need to know. Whether it’s good or not.))


Andorath got up and started with what was meant to be a pace, but was far too elegant than that. ((If you really cared, brat, you would solve the puzzle with me so we can hurry this up.))


Nimoth huffed, flexing and remantling her wings as she peered at her sister. (( And if you weren’t as childish as to resort to petty name calling, I might want to help you. If anyone is behaving like a brat, it is yourself. )) The slim gold hatchling scrutinised the group of girls carefully. They seemed frightfully… well… dull. And again she turned to her mother, her mind-voice more puzzled than challenging or argumentative.


(( But how did you know that these might be the best for me? You did not know me when you decided. So how did you know what was best? )) If anything, Nimoth was a little peeved that someone had dared to presume her best interests without knowing her at all. Why, that was a completely illogical structure on which to base a decision, not all the information was available! A small sliver of rebelliousness made her want to pointedly go in search of something else, something that she had found for herself and had not been chosen on her behalf. But… it was cosy up here. And for the most part, it did feel safe. Ish. The hatchling continued to scrutinise the group. She could sense the tense anticipation around them and for some reason, that seemed to irritate her further. How dare they wait and presume she would want anything to do with them! She flicked her head up and away, pointedly turning her gaze away. (( If they are what has been chosen, that still doesn’t mean they have the right to deserve me. Look at them just standing there. Quivering in the dark like insects waiting for the killing blow to come! )) And the haughty little creature flicked her head all the higher, her blended gold hide shimmering in the faint light of the glows.


((Like I need your help,)) Andorath said with a derisive snort. ((I think I’ll find out the answers to this on my own.)) She walked toward the assembled girls. ((None of these seem like an interesting enough puzzle to me.)) She craned her head up at Foreth. ((I want my own puzzles.))


((These are the ones you’ll get,)) Foreth growled, not liking being talked back to by a Hatchling the size of a claw. ((You’ll like it or you can go back in your egg and I’ll find a different gold Hatchling. You two have already given me enough trouble.))


Andorath cocked her head. ((I hear more somewhere else, maybe we could...)), she added as  she turned toward the stairs leading down and ran right into a golden paw. ((Oooof.))


Tired of having her questions ignored by her mother and aggravated by her childish sister, Nimoth snorted in annoyance, rustling her wings and lashing her tail. Imperiously she looked about her, craning her delicately proportioned head this way and that as she looked. Suddenly this little nook that had seemed quite comforting and cosy at first, suddenly seemed so terribly small. And the gaggle of white things staring nervously at her hardly seemed interesting at all! Well… maybe one or two did… sort of… but even so! Nimoth knew deep in her bones that she was destined for terribly important things, things that would be set in motion from the moment she stepped from her egg.


With whirling eyes, she watched with keen interest as her sister, as annoying as she was, made a sudden dart for a small stairway she hadn’t noticed before. Ah hah. Now there could be an idea. She didn’t want to choose from quivering white shapes that had been picked without knowing her! She wanted something… something else! Something SHE had found and deemed worthy, regardless of what anyone else thought. If she found it for herself, it would be worthy no matter what. 


As Andorath slid to a halt, Nimoth suddenly darted to the side in a vain bid to sidestep Foreth’s massive paw and slither down the steps. If she was determined, she was sure she could do it. Then they would see she bowed to no one


Except Foreth. Who trapped her with a carefully placed paw like a cage.


((Oh no you don’t,)) Foreth said. ((You stay here. You listen or you won’t get out of here until you Impress.)) She was getting sick of the golds acting like...golds. They were still meant to be under her paw, literally and figuratively. They had a very long time until they were anywhere near having the power that Foreth did. The only reason they didn’t get the smack down was that they were babies. And admittedly doing baby stuff.


((Ha!)) Andorath said, because she was not captured. She couldn’t get over the paw and leg either, but that wasn’t the point. ((Once I open my puzzle, the world will be mine. I will cause it all.))


((You both stop being brats or you can both sit under my paw,)) Foreth warned, lowering her head to the ground so that they could see her annoyed eyes whirling, though they had to crane their heads up a way to do so. ((Can you two both behave or are we going to be here a while?))


Caught in her unexpected prison so soon after escaping her first, Nimoth huffed and she puffed and in another story, she might have blown the Weyr down. Instead, she nudged and she batted but it was quite clear that the giant claws weren’t going anywhere.


(( Fine. )) 


It was the sulkiest acquiescence that could be imagined and if looks could kill, both Foreth and Andorath might have been reduced to piles of steaming ash. Nimoth was not impressed that her plans had been thwarted. But then, if she played along just enough, maybe she would get what she wanted after all. Which was… hmm. She wasn’t sure. But it felt ever so important. That was interesting. And somewhat unexpected. It felt like a whisper. Like it had been quietly in the background just waiting to be noticed. The sensation intrigued her. 


(( I can choose whichever I like, but it must be one of them? )) She asked, cocking her head towards the white robed Candidates. Now there was just a hint of curiosity there.


In her own cage, Andorath knew how beautiful she was. It wasn’t vanity. It was truth, although she was happy to play the vain card if it was necessary. Unfortunately, her beauty was going to do nothing to get her dam to listen to her. Time to use her brains, which she conveniently hid unless she needed them. People and other dragons might get easily manipulated by beauty and walk right into her paw.


She sat back down, letting her thoughts rush through her head. ((Perhaps we can take a look at what you have to show us and if we don’t find what we’re looking for here, you will let me go look for it elsewhere. I could bring it back to br...Nimoth. I promise to solve this puzzle.))


Foreth lifted her head again and considered. ((Fine, you look for what is here first. Then I will bring you more to look at. It’s too dangerous for you to leave here without what you’re looking for.))


She lifted her paw off of Andorath only. ((You start looking first.))


Reluctantly, Nimoth had to admit that was a smart move on her sister’s behalf. Not that she would ever tell her. Very well, if she had to act like she was at least doing what she was “supposed” to be, it would be her very best performance. Pressing her face to the digits that confined her, Nimoth looked at the group over with an air of great scrutiny. Not that one. Definitely not that one. Hmm, that one sort of looked a little interesting. In a boring sort of way. Hmm. A spark of an idea.


(( Oh sister, mine… )) she cooed sweetly to Andorath. (( … Why don’t you look at that one? The one with the red top to its head. Why, I think it flatters your beautiful hide most impressively… )) She could play on her sister’s vanity and pride if she had to, who cared if the foolish creature didn’t like her decision as she jutted her nose towards Shalia. The quicker she did whatever it was she had to do, the quicker she would be out of there!


Andorath didn’t like that her sister was giving her suggestions. Just to be contrary she walked back and forth with a good distance between her and the girls.


((Not you. Not You. Not you.)) To her annoyance, she kept eyeing the red haired girl. There was something interesting there.


Yes...something very interesting near there. The feeling grew and grew.


((You may look now,)) Foreth said in unfortunate timing.


Andorath took off full speed at the red haired girl.


As her cage was “opened”, Nimoth shot out like a stone from a sling, shaking out her wings and lashing her tail. Her gnawing irritation was growing because she realised that she was suddenly feeling incredibly impatient about something. Impatient about the need to FIND something. It was determined and hot, threading through her and it caused the tempestuous gold to huff and throw her head about as though irritated by invisible flies. How infuriating! Spotting her sister, Nimoth darted along the Sands, not at all perturbed by the usual clumsiness of hatchlings which seemed remiss in her altogether.


It was like a sensation of hot and cold. Cooler as she moved one way and hotter as she moved another. Important. Like a secret sign telling her which way to go. Her gold body undulated smoothly as she darted towards Shalia. Perhaps it was a little bit of spite, perhaps she wanted to ruffle her sister’s proverbial feathers. But she wanted… she wanted… Skidding to a halt, Nimoth inspected the small group of girls, Shalia at the forefront. Yes, something in this vicinity. She felt as though she were tingling all over as her muzzle thrust forward, sniffing the air. But then, she jumped back as if startled and hissed, her tiny teeth bared as she lowered her head at Shalia.


(( Why is this one here?! )) Her voice seemed filled with fury as she fixed the Candidate with whirling, angry eyes. (( This one shouldn’t be here, she is CLAIMED! )) Nimoth’s whole body seemed aquiver with anger. How dare this white thing trick her into thinking she was important! Recklessly, Nimoth lashed out with a clawed foot, not caring if it came into contact or if it didn’t. All she knew was that this… this… imposter shouldn’t be here!


((She does not solve the puzzle!)) Andorath agreed, her own ire rising. She was a bit ‘softer’ than her sister, if either dragon could be considered ‘soft’, but not by much. This one was tricking them. Andorath had felt something open, almost like something opening in her heart that would be all the world to her and maybe all the world of the Weyr some day. But this wasn’t it.


She bugled. A little baby bugle with a beautiful voice, but one that promised power with time. ((Why are you pretending to be the answer to the PUZZLE?)) Andorath demanded, snapping at the air in front of her and then running at Shalia. She knocked the Candidate right over Nimoth and there was a sickening crack as the Candidate landed.


As the Candidate toppled over her, Nimoth jostled furiously, bucking her back to rid herself of the “imposter” and reckless to the part she might play in any injury that might be incurred. If asked, no doubt she would claim that was entirely Shalia’s own fault for being somewhere she shouldn’t have been at all. Even as the girl hit the ground, Nimoth’s head whipped around as she hissed threateningly at poor Shalia. (( Serves you right! Now get out! Get out now! )) Still prickling with the strange anticipation, Nimoth flicked her head back, fixing her eyes on the strange white shapes in front of her. The strange sensation was still all about her, a feeling that felt as though it made the air crackle and pop.


Nimoth looked all about her as though determined to find the source. Shalia was rapidly forgotten about as she stalked forward, head thrust high. Whatever it was, she wanted it now. And she knew that she could have whatever she wanted. 


Shalia was already forgotten to Andorath. She had bigger puzzles to solve, not why the red haired girl was in her way and not what had happened to her. The answer to the puzzle was near. Very, very near.


She ruffled her wings and lashed her tail in frustration. She needed to find the answer and she needed to find it NOW! Whatever it was, was behind the red haired girl and so, so close.


She felt something...that direction. She took off in the direction of two girls. It was over there, whatever it was!


The boiling urgency was making Nimoth more and more impatient. The longer she waited, the more it seemed to bubble and surge inside of her. She didn’t know what the feeling was. All that she knew was that it was something… important. Not just important, but most of all it was important to her. The churning hunger in her belly warred with the strange emotion, one that she couldn’t name. All she knew was that she had to follow it. But follow it where? Her head weaved and bobbed as she sniffed this way and that, as if she could tell what it was by scent alone. But no, no that didn’t seem to be it at all!


Reluctantly, Nimoth had to admit that whatever it was, it was somewhere in the same direction that her infuriating sister was headed and… Something shifted. Something inside. With a trumpeting bugle, Nimoth shot forward, her whirled eyes a furious crimson. (( Get away from her! )) she exclaimed, charging forward with all her might. Whatever it was, she was determined that Andorath wouldn’t take it from her!


She’d found it. Found her! She just needed to get to her! Andorath was jubilant.


Then out of the corner of her eye she saw Nimoth charging at her. No way was she going to let the other gold take Her away from her. She spun around and dodged, snapping with sharp teeth and slashing viciously as she went. Sharing wasn’t in her vocabulary and she sure wasn’t sharing now. ((CALYSE IS MINE!)) she bugled at the top of her lungs and instead of the beautiful sound from before this one was a piercing shriek of fury.


Gone was languorous, graceful movement. This was a race. A race for the prize she realised she had been seeking from the moment she had left her shell. A prize far beyond petty sisters and obstructive mothers, a prize that was the whole world. Her whole world. As the gold dragonet barrelled forward, she was filled with the singular and pressing desire to claim that which was hers all along. If Candidates got in the way, she certainly didn’t care. If there were scored legs and nipped ankles to make them move, she cared even less. With a hissing snarl of anger, Nimoth lashed back at the flying claws of her sister that had already nicked her beautiful golden hide more than once. She wouldn’t be beaten by this… upstart, this vain and petty fool who spoke nonsense of puzzles. Teeth gnashed and clacked together as her claws flew towards her sister. 


All that mattered was… There. There she was. Right in front of her like the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Hungry red eyes shifted into glorious, rainbow incandescence as the whirling fury came to a sudden and abrupt stop.


(( Calyse?! I do not care for such a name. It is a name that means nothing to me. I have found my Mendl. For she is mine and no one else’s! No one shall take her from me, least of all you! )) 


At Nimoth’s sudden stop and words, Andorath got one more swipe in and then stopped fighting. She realized that the other dragon wanted nothing to do with the girl that was the best puzzle in the world. Her eyes whirling her own rainbow, she got up and ran to Calyse. She stopped in front of her and the world opened up to her.


((Calyse, you are mine. The world is a puzzle, but we will take it on together and conquer it.))


And just like that, despite the injuries along the way, the Weyr’s newest two golds Impressed and were ready to make their mark on the world. There were only a few more eggs to Hatch and Impress and then Foreth could relax.


 


   

Dragonet - Andorath: If there was ever a gold that could be considered perfectly feminine, Andorath is it. Every bit of her is refined and female from her delicate muzzle and head knots to her long, elegantly long wings, to her tail. Even her coloring is reminiscent of the delicate, shimmering gold of of a Lady Holder's most exquisite finery draped over her large, but not massive body. Foreth was built for power. Andorath was built for beauty and grace.


But don't mistake, underneath all that femininity is its own muscle and power and danger. Feminine and beautiful doesn't mean weak or complacent. Far from it. Andorath has has a brain and she knows when to show it and when to use that beauty to bedazzle instead. She has a fondness for gifts, but they often have drawbacks when given.


She also has a very strong preference for the company of women and green dragons, seeing males as only a means to an end to get things. As a Weyrling, she'll deign to give attention to the males only so that she can get things that she likes, not really enjoy them socially. Her rider and the AWLM will have to watch that she doesn't manipulate them into doing things they shouldn't be doing by her wiles. Same for the greens, but at least she'll enjoy spending time with them socially as well. As for other golds, they are rivals to be put in their place or ignored. At best, she'll listen to the Senior Queen, but otherwise she can't see why any of the other golds are considered better than her.


She's going to need a strong lifemate, as all golds should have, lest she start to twist the people and dragons around her as playthings. Andorath will likely have a close bond to her lifemate, but there is a risk of a lot of fighting if the rider doesn't get control fast. Andorath isn't likely to be a possessive gold, but she does have a strong-will and will exert it when it feels necessary.




Re: Hatching Feast - Such As It Is atten: Rennitz, any #HatchingForeth2020

Ren
 

Getting Basilith to the wallows after feeding time had been an ordeal. The willful blue had wanted nothing more than to plop down asleep where he was after eating and Rennitz had to work hard to convince him that a wallow would be much more comfortable for him. She'd had to project the sensation of falling asleep in a warm bed to her blue until he was curious enough to take the bait and go, walking with Rennitz until they arrived at the barracks and wallows. After being briefed by the WLM posted there, the new bluepair went to explore the wallows designated for their class.

"Okay, Basilith, pick one of these that you like the most."

{{These are nothing like you pictured,}} Basilith groused. {{No blankets, no pillows, and it doesn't look soft at all. No, this won't do!}}

Rennitz sighed and rubbed her neck. She was exhausted and so was he, and she wondered with a bit of desperation if they would be called to muster with the other two classes in the morning.

Faranth, she hoped not.

"Just try it out, for me if nothing else?" That convinced the blue to climb up on a wallow designated for a blue and curl up. Almost immediately, he closed his eyes and drifted off with little hisses as he exhaled. Rennitz sighed and quickly changed into the weyrling uniform left there for her and went down to the breakfast waiting. She looked around to see if any would be there to congratulate her or even speak with her before getting klah.
--
Out of the fire comes new life. Telgar Rises!

Are you afraid of the dark? Come play in the Shadow...


Re: Hatching - Wings of Vengeance (ATTN: Miacca/Aelloth, Isirdux)

Mya L. R.
 

On Sat, Sep 5, 2020 at 7:00 PM Jerzy Tobin <jerzytobin@...> wrote:
> There were Hatchlings...not everywhere.  Each color caught her eye, whether bronze, brown, blue or green, they all had their strengths and would be beneficial for the Weyr.  She honored that fact by examining each one carefully.  Her gaze followed another pair that'd hatched, a bronze and green, fought over the Firelizard.  The clearly motionless, dead firelizard not hanging from the green's mouth.  All not soon enough the bronze was tearing off to find someone among the Candidates, leaving the green too...move on to even more horrific scenes, claws and teeth tearing into 2 other Candidates.
>
> Blood, flesh, torn hatching robes.  Miacca clapped one hand over her mouth, holding back the horrified gasp that'd welled up into her throat at the scene.  It happened, it really did, it wasn't the first time Candidates didn't clear out of the way.  Still they were losing a Candidate all while the green made a bloody mess there on the Sands.  Even after the green left the mess she'd made Miacca couldn't pull her hand away from her mouth, not trusting what sounds might've came out of it after that.  But, uncaring about the injured Candidates, the Hatching went on, another pair of Dragonets hatching from their eggs.  None of them came toward her though, and her mind, still reeling from the scene, took its time being pulled back onto the colorful marvels.
>
> Once it did she began noticing that they seemed to be hatching only in pairs, slower than the last hatching.  Slower than...well she couldn't remember another hatching like it but, then again, her brain kept hiccuping over the dragons that currently were wandering...  Make that pouncing, she mentally amended, as some tunnelsnakes began attracting the Hatchlings attention.
>
> Finally two greens hatched, one solid dark green, a stalker ready for the shadows in the Caverns.  The other one, however, the olive green left the impression of a drab little creature that someone had puked other colors onto.  On closer look though there were patterns to it that didn't strike Miacca as really puke like, but...  After witnessing what happened to Ysolde & Sorho, the darker theme left her unable to quite place what those patterns were.
>
> The darker green faded from her attention as she focused on those patterns, shaking her head to try seeing something other than grim impressions on that hide.  Like brushstroke...some part of saw them now even if her brain still spun various less pleasant images, that at least weren't full of blood, flesh and torn cloth anymore.  Except by now that green was coming closer, the markings growing more clear that they indeed look like brushstroke on that green sniffing at another Candidate.  A scream broke through her current fixation and, though she didn't register the Candidate jerking away from the green, she saw the green jerk away.
>
None of this, not one bit of it, was anything like the stories Isirdux
had heard from his mother while growing up.  None of it was like the
gossip spoken about among the crew of the ship, either. They had
never, ever mentioned baby dragons *mauling* candidates to death!  He
had gagged and fought down the urge to throw up right then and there,
fought the urge to try and run away, lest that bloody green come after
him next.  No, instead he stayed rooted where he stood, hunching down
a bit to try and be less noticeable.  He was pretty damned sure he
didn't want any of *these* dragons to choose him!

So, needless to say that when another green dragonet - what was *that*
shade of green? - came over to him, and actually reared up and
scratched Isirdux through his robes, the boy screamed.  He was going
to die next!  No!  No! No! No!  He jerked away and fell over, the
green dragonet falling over his legs.  He flung his arms up over his
face, bracing for the attack that was sure to come.

"Please!  No!"

At the movement, Aelloth jerked her head back, more surprised over it being the upper portion that had moved.  {{You won't get away from me, you...you wrongdoer!}}  She stretched her claws out once more and slammed them down onto the white hem, her shoulder putting enough force behind it that they lowered down with her.  That Miacca wore something white...well the green hadn't really seen anything beyond the fact that Miacca was there with her.  She raised her other forefoot which brought it over the Candidate's thigh.

Her green was moving, her green was slamming her forefoot down onto the other Candidate's Hatching Robes.  The Impression sank in enough that Miacca was beginning to process more than just Aelloth's beautiful, smooth floating name and...there was something about the other Candidate being a wrongdoer?  Miacca shook her head while she finally lurched into motion, dropping onto her knees and wrapping her arms around Aelloth.  "No!  No, that isn't necessary, we don't have to catch him!"

 
--
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Member Name: MyaL
Discord: Neffeyn#8723


To my eyes, you're perfect. Lerian -L'rin/ Cycleth SA

Alyx
 

(( Keep away! )) Dardueth shrieked at her brother, throwing herself down to the sand even as he lunged towards her. (( The creature is mine! )) With a guttural hiss of noise, the green flailed and as she did, scooped up a pawful of the hot sand. Instinctively and without thinking she flung it at her brother, or more specifically, right towards his one good eye.


Sand impacted the bronze’s wide open eye and immediately he hissed, temporarily completely blind.  He started to shake his head wildly from side to side, panic starting to set in, {{ What did you do?  I can’t see!  I’m blind! }}


Wailing, he dashed off towards the candidates, running towards the only thing he could, that pull, that mind… he tripped over shells and stones and completely  knocked over one of the candidates, all in order to reach the only one that could help him.  {{ Please!  I’m blind!  I can’t see at all!  And I’m so hungry!  Lerian, save me! Save your Cycleth! }}

Lerian being one of the youngest on the sands, had been struggling to stay awake. This was something of a blessing, that and being short, well he'd been behind someone taller when Cycleth and his sister had killed the other candidate and maimed another. But as soon as the voice hit his mind, Lerian was completely awake. He pushed past the fella in front of him, sprinting across the shells and stones, as sure footed as a mountain goat.

Once close he dropped to his knees in front of the little bronze, cradling the head against his chest, and using the hem of his robes to very gently brush at Cycleth's good eye. 

"Easy big guy, easy." Some of the sand came away, but not enough. Thankfully dragonhealers and AWLM's were on hand, and a little bit of water later the sand was washed out.

Cycleth, now more comfortable blinked several times, then got his first look at his person, his world. He let out a relieved sigh and butted his head against the small boy's chest, almost knocking him over. The second headbutt, was much gentler. Cycleth hadn't realized his rider was so small. But he knew they both would grow. Together they would grow into...something. He wasn't sure, but it would be something great.

((You saved me. I can see, I knew you would. We will eat now?)) The last was a bit plaintive, his sister had stolen his food. Not that it has tasted very good. 

Lerian...no L'rin, now, Cycleth hummed with approval, as the boy stood, staying on the dragon's left side to guide him to the food. Once there he stood in front of the bucket, and wouldn't let Cycleth past no matter how he tried. He would be firm with the young one. He needed guidance.

"One at a time Cycleth, one at a time." The young bronze growled, but accepted the first bite, trying to push for another, but L'rin wouldn't give it till he'd chewed, and swallowed. Then the second bit was fed, by the third the bronze was resigned, mostly to the fact that he wouldn't be allowed to bury his face in the meat and gobble. As his stomach filled Cycleth began to relax more, and looked around, mostly turning to the left, as was expected.  He saw around him, various siblings, but only one other like him. Good only one rival then. Rival for what he wasn't sure of yet. But would they be rivals or friends? Then there was another bite of food, and the idea faded. Food was better.

Only then did reality seem to catch up to Lerian...no L'rin.. he'd impressed. Not only had he impressed, but he'd impressed a bronze. And not just any bronze at that. He was big, and dark, and looked like lightning was running through him. The only 'flaw' was his right eye. But to L'rin, it was no flaw. Just a part of this beautiful bronze that had chosen to spend his life with him. L'rin was so happy he could barely even think.

Cycleth felt mostly the same. Even small as his was right now. He'd been able to stand up to him, which Cycleth hadn't expected, yet somehow it pleased him. They would do great things together.

--
Have fun with any of my characters. Alyx, Lerian (candidates), Vayka (Healer), J'hen, D'vik, Teyra, Cotai (Riders), Rotasta (AWLM)


Re: Hatching - Wings of Vengeance (ATTN: Miacca/Aelloth, Isirdux)

Jerzy Tobin
 

There were Hatchlings...not everywhere. Each color caught her eye, whether bronze, brown, blue or green, they all had their strengths and would be beneficial for the Weyr. She honored that fact by examining each one carefully. Her gaze followed another pair that'd hatched, a bronze and green, fought over the Firelizard. The clearly motionless, dead firelizard not hanging from the green's mouth. All not soon enough the bronze was tearing off to find someone among the Candidates, leaving the green too...move on to even more horrific scenes, claws and teeth tearing into 2 other Candidates.

Blood, flesh, torn hatching robes. Miacca clapped one hand over her mouth, holding back the horrified gasp that'd welled up into her throat at the scene. It happened, it really did, it wasn't the first time Candidates didn't clear out of the way. Still they were losing a Candidate all while the green made a bloody mess there on the Sands. Even after the green left the mess she'd made Miacca couldn't pull her hand away from her mouth, not trusting what sounds might've came out of it after that. But, uncaring about the injured Candidates, the Hatching went on, another pair of Dragonets hatching from their eggs. None of them came toward her though, and her mind, still reeling from the scene, took its time being pulled back onto the colorful marvels.

Once it did she began noticing that they seemed to be hatching only in pairs, slower than the last hatching. Slower than...well she couldn't remember another hatching like it but, then again, her brain kept hiccuping over the dragons that currently were wandering... Make that pouncing, she mentally amended, as some tunnelsnakes began attracting the Hatchlings attention.

Finally two greens hatched, one solid dark green, a stalker ready for the shadows in the Caverns. The other one, however, the olive green left the impression of a drab little creature that someone had puked other colors onto. On closer look though there were patterns to it that didn't strike Miacca as really puke like, but... After witnessing what happened to Ysolde & Sorho, the darker theme left her unable to quite place what those patterns were.

The darker green faded from her attention as she focused on those patterns, shaking her head to try seeing something other than grim impressions on that hide. Like brushstroke...some part of saw them now even if her brain still spun various less pleasant images, that at least weren't full of blood, flesh and torn cloth anymore. Except by now that green was coming closer, the markings growing more clear that they indeed look like brushstroke on that green sniffing at another Candidate. A scream broke through her current fixation and, though she didn't register the Candidate jerking away from the green, she saw the green jerk away.
None of this, not one bit of it, was anything like the stories Isirdux
had heard from his mother while growing up. None of it was like the
gossip spoken about among the crew of the ship, either. They had
never, ever mentioned baby dragons *mauling* candidates to death! He
had gagged and fought down the urge to throw up right then and there,
fought the urge to try and run away, lest that bloody green come after
him next. No, instead he stayed rooted where he stood, hunching down
a bit to try and be less noticeable. He was pretty damned sure he
didn't want any of *these* dragons to choose him!

So, needless to say that when another green dragonet - what was *that*
shade of green? - came over to him, and actually reared up and
scratched Isirdux through his robes, the boy screamed. He was going
to die next! No! No! No! No! He jerked away and fell over, the
green dragonet falling over his legs. He flung his arms up over his
face, bracing for the attack that was sure to come.

"Please! No!"


--
"Life is NOT a journey to the grave with the goal of arriving safely
in a prettily preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways in a
shower of gravel and party shards, thoroughly used, utterly exhausted,
and loudly proclaiming: "F*** ME, that Rocked!!" -unknown

Whizzy: Jerzy
Aim: Yue146


Mellifluous Lethality (SA Candidate Arciel)

Arciel
 

The keening cry of steel parting the air disturbed the silence of the early morning with a conclusive crack of impact against the abused surface of a pockmarked training dummy, scattering birds with shrill cries of indignation as splinters flew from the impact. Supervised by the patient gaze of a single early-morning Weyrguard willingly lured in by his own curiosity, Arciel stood shirtless in the early morning sun as he ran through his sword drills. A faint layer of perspiration already clung to his body, rivulets of moisture trailing along the contours of his musculature or along the asymmetrical ridges of scar tissue interspersed across his nineteen-year-old torso.

His bare feet dug stubbornly into the grass-bordered paving stones beneath them, toes curled and heels depressed by his distributed body weight to better grip the slightly uneven arena ground. The scrape of stone against his hardened soles offered no clear impediment to the blond Candidate as he danced back and then surged forwards, his latissimus dorsi back muscles tightening with exertion as he poured power into the calloused hands grasping the hilt of his bastard sword, the forty-three inch blade singing as it scythed in to punish the dummy with another vicious strike. Had the target been made of flesh and sinew, the blow would have cleaved deep into the upper rib cage of an average-sized male.

Instead Arciel pivoted off the heel of his right foot and shifted the grip of his hand-and-a-half bastard sword mid-strike, inverting the glimmering steel blade to perform a form-perfect upwards back-thrust at the sternum of his stationary target. With a flex of his deltoids, the lovingly sharpened weapon impacted the tortured wooden target with a sound like localised lightning; simulating a disturbingly accurate reminiscence of shattering bones as wood chips sailed into the air and the sword sunk three inches deep within the resistant target.

Arciel locked his jaw and ripped the sword out with an exertion of his biceps, ducking under an imaginary oberhau from an unseen enemy and launching himself sideways over the sweep of an imagined poleaxe. He landed in a roll, bare shoulder-flesh tearing on the unyielding stone of the ground below him as he came up to his feet. Ignoring the stinging of his shoulder as readily as one might dismiss the impediment of a minor insect’s stinger, his calves and thighs tightened for a heartbeat before he launched himself back at the dummy with a snarl of focus and concentrated violence of action.

A distance of seven feet was crossed in heartbeats and Arciel launched himself from his run into an aerial twist for greater striking force, unleashing a roar of effort as he poured every inch of his painstakingly curated musculature into a single destructive blow. Even with the greater resistance of a wooden frame and the lack of pliable flesh, his blade’s striking force was not to be denied and – succumbing to a number of carefully inflicted prior wounds to its neck – the dummy’s head detached from its body in a disturbing example of focused ultraviolence.

Arciel landed beside the dummy with a bend of the knees and a concerted downwards focus of his weight to the begrudgingly supportive stone underfoot, sliding perhaps two inches from the inertia of his landing and noting the stinging report of scraped soles as he turned back to examine his work. The dummy’s head had been cleanly severed, albeit at a slight angle, and the figure itself rocked faintly with the aftermath of the sheer force involved in the decapitation. Droplets of sweat rolled down Arciel’s chiselled features and snaked around the defined shape of his masculine jaw, dripping down to join the shimmering plethora already present on his steady-breathing chest as he looked down to examine the edge of his family blade.

A smile graced his handsome features when he noted the lack of strain or damage on the weapon, pleased by its retained edge and the relative ease – as compared to pig iron weapons of the same make – with which he’d beheaded the wooden target. His blue eyes, faintly illuminated in the sunlight of the morning, lifted to look expectantly to the observing Weyrguard. After a moment of consideration, the much older man offered a curt nod in response to the unasked question, and Arciel felt himself smiling in response.

It had become a habit to request the judgement of the experienced guardians of the Weyr on his drills, and thus far he had not experienced any disapproval. Given the standards to which they were held, he knew he would find no empty platitudes among the stern-faced collective that defended Arolos Weyr. It meant that their approval, when given, was never doubted – and it served to validate the strenuous training he put himself through each and every day. Rolling his shoulders to release some of the tension from his earlier exertion, Arciel shook out his arms one after the other while rotating the grip of his blade between them, and then shook out his legs from the thigh to the toes.

With that done he looked up at the Weyrguard and nodded, giving the veteran a signal they’d agreed upon earlier. With a nod in return, the guard stepped forwards and descended the stairs to the training arena, unsheathing a borrowed sword in the process and coming to a halt only when he stood several metres opposite Arciel. Once the older man was in position, Arciel bowed respectfully and received the same in return. “Thank you for your instruction,” Arciel said with honest gratitude, his strong baritone clear within the arena.

The sound of clashing steel filled the air moments later, and Arciel lost himself in the mellifluous lethality of swordplay.


Re: Hatching - Wings of Vengeance (ATTN: Miacca/Aelloth, Isirdux)

Mya L. R.
 

There were Hatchlings...not everywhere.  Each color caught her eye, whether bronze, brown, blue or green, they all had their strengths and would be beneficial for the Weyr.  She honored that fact by examining each one carefully.  Her gaze followed another pair that'd hatched, a bronze and green, fought over the Firelizard.  The clearly motionless, dead firelizard not hanging from the green's mouth.  All not soon enough the bronze was tearing off to find someone among the Candidates, leaving the green too...move on to even more horrific scenes, claws and teeth tearing into 2 other Candidates.

Blood, flesh, torn hatching robes.  Miacca clapped one hand over her mouth, holding back the horrified gasp that'd welled up into her throat at the scene.  It happened, it really did, it wasn't the first time Candidates didn't clear out of the way.  Still they were losing a Candidate all while the green made a bloody mess there on the Sands.  Even after the green left the mess she'd made Miacca couldn't pull her hand away from her mouth, not trusting what sounds might've came out of it after that.  But, uncaring about the injured Candidates, the Hatching went on, another pair of Dragonets hatching from their eggs.  None of them came toward her though, and her mind, still reeling from the scene, took its time being pulled back onto the colorful marvels.

Once it did she began noticing that they seemed to be hatching only in pairs, slower than the last hatching.  Slower than...well she couldn't remember another hatching like it but, then again, her brain kept hiccuping over the dragons that currently were wandering...  Make that pouncing, she mentally amended, as some tunnelsnakes began attracting the Hatchlings attention.  

Finally two greens hatched, one solid dark green, a stalker ready for the shadows in the Caverns.  The other one, however, the olive green left the impression of a drab little creature that someone had puked other colors onto.  On closer look though there were patterns to it that didn't strike Miacca as really puke like, but...  After witnessing what happened to Ysolde & Sorho, the darker theme left her unable to quite place what those patterns were.

The darker green faded from her attention as she focused on those patterns, shaking her head to try seeing something other than grim impressions on that hide.  Like brushstroke...some part of saw them now even if her brain still spun various less pleasant images, that at least weren't full of blood, flesh and torn cloth anymore.  Except by now that green was coming closer, the markings growing more clear that they indeed look like brushstroke on that green sniffing at another Candidate.  A scream broke through her current fixation and, though she didn't register the Candidate jerking away from the green, she saw the green jerk away.

On Sat, Sep 5, 2020 at 4:30 PM sailyn2 <empressoftheworld@...> wrote:
((Maybe they’re wrongdoers,)) Aelloth suggested. She walked up to the nearest Candidate and reared up to sniff at him. Normally the faint points of scratching where her claws connected underneath the thin fabric might not have been that scary, but after that kid was mauled at the beginning, the boy screamed and fell back. Aelloth screeched and pulled back in return.
 

((I found one! I found a wrongdoer! ~~Miacca~~! Help me capture this wrong doer!)) She stood there half over the poor victim Canddiate’s legs and wagged her body happily.


Miacca sucked in a breath, that voice resounding inside her head felt like it'd been there from even before the green addressed her.  The presence they carried felt like the fixation she'd had on those patterns playing over the green's hide.  Or it was a new fixation replacing the first, she couldn't identify which!

The hand dropped from her mouth as she found words that weren't in need of being held back.  "Aelloth...Aelloth..."

Aelloth stayed over the Candidate's leg, with another wiggle, anticipating the moment she get to capture the wrongdoer.  Yet Her's didn't move!  The young woman just stood there staring at Aelloth like she'd never seen her green before.  All while Aelloth could feel sensation from Miacca like she'd always seen her.  {{Quickly before it gets away!  Who *knows* what it'll do if we don't get to it!}}  The green raised one forefoot and impatiently slashed claws downward,digging them viciously deep into the sand beside the accused's leg.


-- 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Member Name: MyaL
Discord: Neffeyn#8723


Hard On The Healers Attn Shalia

Laura Walker
 

Watching and not moving was maybe the most difficult thing Cremsden could ever do. Healers got trained for this, Healers practiced this, Healers reminded each other of this before every sharding Hatching. A Healer in the wrong place risked a dragon. More, a Healer in the wrong place risked being torn limb from limb himself. And Cremsden was certainly old enough to know better, had nearly made that mistake once with Elphith.

 

Shells, though, he could see  the boy bleeding out. Seconds felt like hours, Cremsden bit down on his lower lip until his mouth tasted of blood unable to look away. 

 

You go now, you risk the dragon and yourself. You know this.

 

He knew it, but Faranth, just watching.. With a curse his legs started to move despite himself, pressing forward, desperate to intervene.

 

Cuylar almost did not see Cremsden moving, so focused was he himself on waiting for that critical moment when the little green – it was hard to think of her as little with what she was doing – had tired and moved on.

 

But he did see. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the movement, and his arms snapped out before he even saw who it was to grab onto a shirt, an arm, whatever he could get.

 

"Are you daft, you'll kill them both and yourself – oh, it's you. Shells! What are you thinking?"


“If we go now we could save him.” Cremsden’s gaze was still fixed on the injured boy, unable to look away. He pulled on his captured arm, trying to free himself. “We can’t just let this happen.”


Cuylar stepped closer without letting Cremsden get any further away and pulled him close as much as he could.


"He's already dead." Even if they went now, there was no way the boy could hope to live. Even if they had him a moment after she had sunk those claws into the boy's gut. Cuylar would try. But not now, not yet.


"She'll kill you, too."


Truth hurt. Cremsden exhaled shakily, still watching, watching as the kid -- shells, he had apprentices older than that -- flailed at the green with one arm. There was another kid, a girl, on the Sands and shells, that amount of blood should really still be in the body not outside of it. 


Breathe in. Breathe out. Feel every muscle straining to break away from Cuylar despite the fact that Cuylar was undoubtedly right, that right now was not the time.


There were two kids over there hurting. If he went.. He could at least make the hurting stop faster. Cremsden’s knuckles were white, hand clenched around his bag. “Feck.” An entire audience of people, just standing and sitting still, watching children die. “Let me help, Cuylar.”


"We'll both go as soon as she leaves him," said Cuylar. "The girl," he saw her, too, "needs our help, too. We'll go. Just as soon as she lets him go, please, I can't let her kill you, please."


Another shaky breath and Cremsden nodded, stopped pulling against Cuylar’s hand. “You go to the girl,” he directed. “I’ll take the boy if--” One drop of fellis for pain, two for drowsiness, five to stop pain in such a way that the patient never felt anything again. The supplies were there in his bag. He hadn’t thought he’d need them for a Hatching. “I’ll do it, if needed.”


Cuylar nodded. And then slowly released his grip on Cremsden. At least, he thought, if Cremsden went anyway, Cuylar might have delayed him long enough that the killer green would have lost interest. She would not even remember. She would forget entirely how she drained the life out of this boy. He knew for a fact that her rider and all of the others who saw this never would.


Cremsden stayed, though it was easy to feel his alertness, like a runner waiting for a starting shot. The moment the little green released her grip he was off, bolting at a speed he hadn’t even known he was capable of, racing towards them before the boy had even hit the Sands. Hoping to get there in time for him to still be alive, or hoping that his pain had stopped already? He wasn’t sure himself. The first was..pointless, and yet still purest instinct.


And as instructed, Cuylar led the charge to help the girl. She was in no small amount of danger herself with the blood she was losing. But they would get a tourniquet on it and get her off the Sands, and she would be fine.


Cremsden… might need some help with not drinking later. Or maybe one drink would not hurt.


Was the boy alive? Most likely not but time wasted checking was time a patient was in immeasurable amounts of pain. Cremsden’s face was grim but his hands were steady, administering the required amount of fellis, gently closing the lad’s eyes before he gave the nod to those who had already arrived with a stretcher. Other people would get them back to the Infirmary, would decide what needed to be done with the girl (those arms, could they save those arms) and do..whatever respectfully needed to be done with what was now only a body. Their job was only the immediate triage, what needed to be done to safely remove a Candidate from the Sands.


((You need to get to the upper cavern. There's been another injury,)) Elphith said urgently to Cuylar, and he was moving before she finished.


"You and you, come with me. There's been another injury upstairs." Shells. What was this Hatching? This clutch, this Turn?


"Cremsden! Can you come? There's another one," he called to Cremsden.


“Shards, you’re kidding?” But Cremsden was standing up as he said it, wiping sweat away from his forehead with a bloody hand. Shells, they all looked like they’d attended a murder already - and in a way they had. “Right, where to?” His voice sounded surprisingly calm as he followed along, ready now for-- well, just about anything really.



--

Blackadder: I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants.
Blackadder: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work.


Hatching Feast - Such As It Is atten: ALL #HatchingForeth2020

sailyn2
 

Normally there was a big feast after Hatching. The people who had watched needed to be fed and loved ones wanted one last chance to see the new Weyrlings. Not this time. After everything that had happened, including a night Hatching, a large feast was taken off the table. Instead, a small breakfast was arranged for anyone in the Weyr, but no one was brought in from outside the Weyr. The Candidates were off their forced seclusion, but warned against overindulging. The older Weyrlings who were off close watching could go for an hour or two before they needed to be back to their lessons. The newest Weyrlings were given permission to go for a short period so long as their dragons fell asleep. They could see their friends and family, but no touching was allowed.

OOC: Feel free to have your Weyrlings or Candidates go to the feast, but stay within the rules. IA = IC


I Should Be There JP M'gal/Kassia #HatchingForeth2020

sailyn2
 

The hum from Foreth went up and then caught through the Weyr as night fell around them. The time was weird, but more than that it was inconvenient. Kassia had been battling headaches and the pain in her arm for the past couple of days. The Healers still wouldn’t let her out of the Infirmary and she certainly wasn’t cleared to go see the Hatching. If she thought she wouldn’t just be a distraction, she might have fought to go anyway.


Helpless to do anything, even to fully control Foreth, Kassia laid there with a lot of time and imagination on hand.


{{Kassia needs you with her,}} Ozayith said as he started to hum.


“But the eggs…”


{{I’ll be here, in front of the Caverns, watching. Guarding. Talith and Truenoth know I’m here. Go.}}


M’gal went. Truth be told, he’d rather be with Kassia anyway, but he was still worried about the eggs and what could happen. Though, if they were ready to Hatch anyway, he supposed that if something dire occurred, the dragons might still be saved. He sent a tendril of that thought to Ozayith but met only stubborn silence. 


Entering the Infirmary, he quickly went to Kassia’s side. “Hey, sweetling, how are you doing? Other than the obvious, of course.”


Kassia had spent much of the last few days trying to sleep. Partly for nothing to do, partly because she wasn’t getting great sleep with everything hurting. With the humming she’d asked for help to get propped up while she listened in on what Foreth could pass along considering that she was fairly busy. By the time M’gal got to her, Foreth was already calling for her selection of girls to come up to the Upper Caverns.


Kassia blinked the image away as her weyrmate came into the room. She wasn’t sure if anyone would come. Sh’ain couldn’t with his duties to the Candidates. B’lin might be roped in to help with the Weyrlings. And M’gal might have to be there due to his Ranker’s duties. So she was happy to see M’gal walk into the room. 


“You came,” she said, holding out her good arm and hand.


Clasping her hand, M’gal bent down for a kiss, and took a chair. Rank had its privileges, and Kassia’s small room in the infirmary had a few better comforts than most of the others. Still holding her hand, he nodded.


“Ozayith is at the entrance of the Sands, where he can watch. I’d like him to be in there, but with the Candidates, and the sires, there’s not a lot of room. But this way what he can see while looking in, he can relay to us.” He shot her a wry grin.


“It’s not as good as being there, but it’s something. If Foreth will allow Oz to speak to you, he can let you see what’s going on. Otherwise I’ll have to describe everything.”


“Foreth was the one that decided to split up the Clutch,” she said. “I understand her reasoning, but she forfeits her chance to say ‘no’. She’s busy anyway. She’s calling up the girls she wants from those that saw the eggs.” Kassia didn’t dare say out loud where anyone, maybe even M’gal, could know that she couldn’t stop the Queen from doing it. Better to let them think that Kassia agreed with her dragon than that she couldn’t entirely control her in that moment.


“Every once in a while she lets me know what’s going on or shows me a glimpse, but that’s all I’m getting. I imagine once the golds Hatch she’ll want me to see.”


“Well, with the golds being on the second Grounds, Oz can’t really see those as well anyway. So he’ll just show you the majority.” M’gal didn’t have any favorites amongst the girls. Most of them seemed to be gold-diggers anyway, just wanting the prestige. He almost wished that those would be the ones to Impress gold--it would serve them right.


“Did Foreth call all the girls in your family up?” he asked. “I feel bad for Shalia; I know she wants blue and I think she’ll be a great bluerider. She’s the type of person I almost wish could ride a brown.” Almost.


“She did,” Kassia nodded and was glad that her head didn’t hurt more. She was glad she could look at him, as well. The first two days her eyes had been very sensitive. Now they were only a little sensitive. “Though, I’d say she’d actually be a great gold rider. If she wanted to be one. She’s not mine, but she’s got the fire like she’s mine. More so than Kashara or Rassia.”


M’gal nodded. He hadn’t gotten to know Kashara or Rassia that well yet. Probably due to being busy, and since they were Candidates, he didn’t see the Canididates often. He saw Shalia because of R’tal, and he used to see Sarati with Shalia. Still did, for that matter.


“Well, if your daughters Impress gold, in my opinion I think they’d need to switch Weyrs. I just can’t imagine Ozayith catching one of their golds. Though I guess we could leave.” He waved his hand. “That would be better anyway.” He went silent.


“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it,” Kassia said. She squeezed his hand. “Foreth is only telling me what’s going on in the Upper Caverns. And barely at that. Can you have Ozayith show me or you tell me?”


Ozayith immediately opened a link from his mind to Kassia’s so she could see the Lightning in a Bottle egg  shake, vibrate and Hatch into a little blue. 


“It’s a blue,” M’gal said. “And he seems healthy, though,” his forehead wrinkled, “he’s not the prettiest dragon on the planet.”


{{He’s fine,}} Ozayith said to both, affronted for Truenoth and Talith. {{You probably weren’t that pretty when you were born, either. And,}} he bugled angrily, {{you all should be ashamed of yourselves for judging him. At least Almira will give him the love he needs.}} 


The bronze acted like he was going to stop letting them look through his eyes, but M’gal had to placate him, and quickly.


[[I’m sorry. I think everyone was just surprised. And with everything that happened, it’s hard not to...I’m sorry.]]


((A Hatchling is a Hatchling,)) Kassia tried to reply, unknowing whether the bronze was listening back or not. ((Every Hatchling should be celebrated.)) Especially after those eggs had been smashed.


Placated, Ozayith allowed them to continue to watch as the Stoic Pebble and the Bricked Skull eggs began to rock. Eventually the Stoic Pebble egg opened to reveal a stocky brown, while a little green nose poked through the top of the Bricked Skull egg. After the hor--surprise of the first egg, seeing these two made M’gal smile. Ozayith also allowed M’gal and Kassie listen to the exchanges between the dragonets and their sires.


“These two are wonderful,” he said to Kassia. “I’m surprised that no one touched them. They are so smart.”


{{They are Foreth’s,}} Oz said.


((Yes, they are Foreth’s,)) Kassia agreed. And as Foreth’s, she expected them all to have an extra ‘oomph’ to them than some of the other golds. She doubted there’d be many that were excessively sweet, but Thread didn’t need sweet. Thread needed mentally strong and motivated, for lack of a better way of describing it.


“So good so far,” she said out loud.


M’gal nodded. Unlike some Hatchings, these dragons seemed to study their selection of partners. He knew that no matter what was said, dragons were not infallible in their choices. Some ill-made matches had happened throughout the history of dragonriding, though he knew that even though Kassia felt hers was one, that wasn’t the case. She had just needed affirmation. Or something.

Now the Sheen of Blood egg was rocking, and speaking. “So, this next one seems to be really hungry,” he said. “She’s calling for food before she’s out of the shell.” Then his attention was caught by a couple of Candidates.


“Should I have Oz have someone remove those two?” M’gal asked, speaking of the two Candidates acting out while on the Sands. But as he spoke, the Bronze Eye egg, the one that had been punctured, Hatched.


“They should be handled by the ACMs,” Kassia said, not wanting to upset the whole situation. That’s what the ACMs were for, right? Besides, it wasn’t unusual for there to be a little bit of issues among the Candidates.


“Yeah, true,” he said. “Oh look. This is why people should keep their stupid firelizards out of the Sands.” The bronze had grabbed a blue firelizard out of the air and was playing a game of keep-away with his green sister.


As they watched, he was impressed with the mind of the green, how she tried to trick the bronze so she could steal his prize. And she did! Until…


“No. Oh, Faranth, no!” he said, gripping Kassia’s hand. “This shouldn’t be happening.”


Kassia gripped it back. There was nothing they could do for what was obviously a dangerous situation. It could only get worse.


“Feck.”


M’gal was yelling at the Candidates now. “Get away! Get out of the way!” But of course they couldn’t hear him. There was nothing Ozayith could do as the boy was ripped to shreds. 


“Oh, feck me,” M’gal moaned, laying his head in his hand. How could he ever look at Dardueth with anything but revulsion?


{{She doesn’t know. He was in her way, and she wanted to get to Hers,}} Oz chastised. {{If someone were standing in my way, I’d have done the same thing then. But not now. Now I’d politely ask them to move.}}


“Trust Ozayith to put things into perspective,” M’gal said. 


Kassia just stared in horror even though the image was all in her head. She’d seen enough throughout her life, but the image still made her nauseous.


“Foreth could have...she could have...” she stammered. If Foreth had been there...if she’d been there to direct Foreth...it might not have happened. This was all her fault.

Tears welled in her eyes. 


Something of her guilt reached Ozayith, which reached M’gal. “It is not your fault,” he said holding her good hand in both of his. “These things happen. If you’d been there, you would have been at the other Caverns with Foreth and wouldn’t have seen it. You said it yourself earlier: This is why we have Candidate Masters. But there are a lot of Candidates.


“If you’d been there is the least of it. If the Caverns hadn’t exploded. If Talith and Truenoth weren’t blinded. If Foreth had allowed that girl up with the gold eggs. If, if, if.” He wanted to hug her, but it was too soon after the explosion without causing pain. Plus, it was hard to hug someone in an Infirmary bed.


“Look, we have a green and blue playing with tunnelsnakes. Aren’t they cute?” he said, trying to get her mind off of this most recent tragedy.


Kassia tried to push the memory from her head. She blinked a couple of times and then pulled her hand from his so that she could wipe at her face. She needed to be strong. The Weyr needed a strong Weyrwoman, even if she was injured.


She focused on the image in her head and let herself enjoy it. “So long as they don’t get hurt.” Faranth, this was a heart wrenching Hatching.


“For some reason, I think those two know what they’re doing. And they don’t look like the poisonous tunnelsnakes. I know that before Foreth even rose, some of my Wing and I went through the tunnels checking for poisonous nests, and there were none.


“Their lifemates are going to have their hands full, though, if those two insist on catching and keeping snakes. And Ko’ssen. Definitely Ko’ssen.” He smiled, glad he was neither a CM or WM. This group made Weyrleading look easy.


“I don’t envy his job,” Kassia agreed. “And the golds haven’t even Hatched.”


“No, but we do have another bronze,” M’gal said as the Endless Sky egg Hatched. “He’s a nice-looking one. Oh, and another blue. I’m glad that these guys are being a little more civilized.” Not that it was the others’ fault for what happened. But he was still talking his stomach down from that little episode.  He felt Ozayith’s snort as he heard it.


“Hey, didn’t that guy get banned from the Sands for being a troublemaker?” he asked, referencing Asheran. “Or, because he was actually trying to help was he allowed on?”


Kassia narrowed her eyes as Ozayith passed on the image. “He did,” she said. “We’ll have to make sure he serves some sort of penance. I wonder if anyone helped him.”


“Well, not sure what we’re going to do now,” M’gal said wryly after a few minutes. “He Impressed that bronze. But I’m sure if anyone helped him, not all of them will Impress.” Secretly he was glad the boy Impressed. Sure, he’d gone about it the wrong way, but his heart was in the right place.


“We’ll find some way to punish him,” Kassia insisted. “And whoever helped. Can’t let that stuff fly or others will try. “He’ll probably come out of Weyrling training a good bronzerider, though.”


“Probably.” M’gal looked at all the eggs still waiting to Hatch. He hoped none of them were duds. That would be terrible. Bad enough Foreth lost eight babies to the explosion.


Another egg hatched an ugly green. “Hey, there’s a green that can go with that blue,” he said jokingly. Ozayith closed his eyes.


“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said. “Honest, I didn’t mean it.”


{{You did, but I’m only going to let you watch because Kassia can’t be there,}} Oz said. He opened his eyes again.


The green was hanging out, trying to decide what to do when he saw a shadow out of the corner of Ozayith’s eye. “Look out!” he said, then stopped and stared. “Where did that dragon come from?” he asked rhetorically.


“It’s so dark in parts of the Caverns,” Kassia said. “It’s likely that there are eggs we can’t see.”


“Yeah, likely.” He watched, smiling at their antics too. “Heh. More Fun with Tunnelsnakes,” he said as the two kept trying to corral the creepy-crawlies. “I really like that green--she’s almost black. I love dark green, it’s a good color.” 


“She is pretty,” Kassia agreed. She was starting to get antsy to know when the golds were going to Hatch.


Both greens Impressed, then two blues Hatched. These two seemed to love the puddles that were placed around the Sands after the rains earlier that night. 


“Heh. That one looks like a runner,” M’gal said as they splashed. “A water-runner. They’re both handsome, though.” Then he frowned. “Too bad Shalia’s not down here.She’d love that one.” But, she didn’t get him and instead they went to a couple of different people.


Now things were quiet and he wondered what was going on.


Suddenly Foreth pushed into her head. It was Kassia’s turn to be the relay.


“Golds are hatched,” she said. “Little brats they are. Beautiful brats. They’re each trying to show each other up. They’re definitely Foreth’s brood....Now she’s restraining them with her cla...oh no, she let one out.” The stream continued until suddenly things got exciting again. 


“Oh no! They started fighting and hurt each other and a couple of other girls. Shalia fell over, I think she broke her arm!” She squeezed his hand hard. “Oh...oh...they Impressed.” She let out a sigh of relief.  “One of them is the girl who was taking care of Foreth. I don’t know the other.”


At first M’gal held his breath, expecting another death like the last one. But after they Impressed he let it out. “Poor Shalia. Didn’t she just have a broken arm because of R’tal’s wher?”


But now two more eggs had Hatched, and these headed straight to the water puddles also. Then they took on the look of dragons searching for their lifemate.


“Faranth! There’s a green and blue trying to go up the stairs to the other grounds. They need to bring the girls down1” M’gal said


“Shards!” Kassia said, but Foreth was still giving her info. She saw Kashara run towards the stairs and then disappear down them. “Kashara’s gone down.”


“Good. She got the green. But the blue is still looking for someone...oh, there’s Shalia, broken arm and all. She’s going to have fun. As will K’ossen.” He sighed, then the last egg began to rock.


“One more, and it looks like--oh, some idiot Candidate brought food to the Hatching and left it on the Sands. You’ll have to talk to the Candidate Masters about that. Can’t have that happen during a Hatching.”  A few minutes later, that dragon had Impressed.  He squeezed Kassia’s hand.


“Looks like they all found someone,” he said.


“And only...one person died.” Kassia sighed, then brightened. “But Kashara and Shalia Impressed. And Shalia got her blue. And the golds Impressed. Now it’s all the Weyrling Master’s problem.”


“I’m so glad I’m not him,” M’gal said.


{{You’ve got that right.}}





You're Coming With Me JP Asheran/Kashara #HatchingForeth2020

sailyn2
 

The sounds of the humming jolted Kashara out of her sleep. She wasn’t the only one scrambling to get into her robes as chaos went up all around her. The eggs were early and Hatching at night. No one had been expecting it.


As soon as she was dressed, she went looking for Asheran.


Asheran hadn't slept well the past several nights, and last night had been no exception. The hatching was too close, too many things could still go wrong - but then the humming had started and he had been on his feet, adrenaline singing in his veins, throwing that borrowed robe over his shoulders like a cloak. He needed to find Kashara --


And nearly ran right into her outside his dorm.


“Oh, there you are,” Kashara said a bit quietly, though it was hard to be heard over the cacophony. She grabbed his arm. “Come on and keep your head down. No one’s going to look too hard at someone with me.”


Asheran followed her without question, doing as she asked but - maybe it was the adrenaline, or the keen anticipation, or the humming that seemed to shake his bones. He shook off her grip on his arm after a moment and reached for her hand instead.


"Thanks," he hissed again through his teeth.


She squeezed his hand and led him through the throng and into place in the line. The Candidates were ushered toward the Stands and Kashara and Asheran moved through with no issues. For a moment she thought that T’rifoshe might have spotted the boy, but if he did he didn’t say anything and they reached the Sands to stand around the Hatching Grounds.

That was when Foreth called to her.


“I have to go,” she said to him. “You should be fine now.”


"Good luck," he murmured to her, but his gaze was already drawn by the eggs. Somewhat hunched over and shuffling - because disguise - he made his way slyly over to the others, without a backwards glance. He was here. One weight slid off his shoulders, replaced by another.


Just being here wasn't enough.


“You, too,” she said and then slipped away. They’d meet again on the other side or they wouldn’t. Either way she’d given him a chance.





Re: Hatching - Searching the Night #HatchingForeth2020 Kashara/Rusalth #HatchingForeth2020

sailyn2
 

Kashara couldn't believe it. Her sister's arm had been broken. Again. She stepped forward as it to help, but then she heard a voice in her head. The sweetest sound she'd ever heard in her head. But where was she? She had to be downstairs somewhere.

"I'm coming, Rusalth. I'm coming!" She hadn't gotten the idea of mindspeech yet as she rushed downstairs and then found Rusalth at the bottom.


Re: Hatching - Dark Riddles (Zosime/Xinspeth SA)

Jerzy Tobin
 

((Do you think those white-clad things know something?)) Tredamth asked. ((There are so many of them. Surely someone can tell us where to go and what to do.))

((Everyone knows something,)) said Xinspeth. ((Four legs walk down the hill. Six legs leave the hill behind. Yes?)) She had to find the one who knew the most. If she could have that advantage starting off, she would stay well ahead of the others…

Tredamth didn’t know much, but something was telling him that the white creatures knew something he didn’t. He strained until he was as tall as possible and looked over the group.

Suddenly his eyes settled on one particular thing in white. No, person. As Impression set in the word came to mind. ((Ronhim, come show me where to go!))

Xinspeth was concerned… perhaps concerned was not the best word. Worried? Afraid? She hated to think she was vulnerable to such things. But for a moment, it seemed Tredamth was going to pick the white-clad thing who knew the most. When he did not, she was relieved. She had to get there now. Quickly, before anyone else tried to claim hers.



Under the watchful eyes of their sires, the two Hatchlings finally found their lifemates. The riddle was solved.
Zosime had been standing in the middle of a fairly decent sized clump
of candidates, peering into the dim sands to see what, if anything,
was happening. Of course these babies just had to decide to hatch in
the middle of the night. She shifted from foot to foot both from
impatience as well as the heat from the sands. Impatience vanished
when the brown and green dragonets began heading in her group's
direction. She found herself standing up straighter, taking a small
step forward to get a better look at the green. She was a lovely,
light, very light shade of green, and she was...she was stopping in
front of Zosime?!

((Zosime, shall we make six legs of it?))

The melodious voice that filled her head was unlike anything Zosime
could have imagined. The presence filled every part of her, made her
feel whole in a way she had never known was possible. She found
herself brushing away tears as she knelt down to wrap gentle arms
around the green's neck.

"Oh, my dear, wonderful Xinspeth. We'll be wonderful together! Thank
you for finding me."

((Of course I would find you, my Zosime. You are the answer to my
most important riddle, after all.))


--
"Life is NOT a journey to the grave with the goal of arriving safely
in a prettily preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways in a
shower of gravel and party shards, thoroughly used, utterly exhausted,
and loudly proclaiming: "F*** ME, that Rocked!!" -unknown

Whizzy: Jerzy
Aim: Yue146


The Painful Aftermath of Joy JP (K'el/Ysolde/Ked'son/NPC Healers)

Nutmeg
 

IC Date Reference: Set in the hours during the Hatching and early hours of the following day.


Whilst the Hatching continued, there was a bustle of activity in the Infirmary. Almost immediately, it had been realised that there was nothing to be done for Sorho. The poor lad was a bloodied, lacerated mess, the only mercy being that he had likely died swiftly. It looked as though the bloodthirsty little green who had done the damage had managed to sever major arteries in her frenzy. The other Candidate, Ysolde, hadn’t been quite so fortunate. The screaming began as they escorted the girl gently towards the Infirmary, right when pain began to override shock and her eyes seemed to take notice of the blood pouring down her arms. And the blood all over her hatching robe that was most definitely not her own.


In the end, it became almost immediately apparent that in order to tend to the deep lacerations on her arms, they were going to need to do something to calm her and a needlethorn of fellis had been sunk into her arm. The girl’s legs had given way under her within seconds, caught by the hands of waiting Healers who lifted the bloodsoaked girl into a bed that was already ready and waiting for her. The wounds were deep, the worst being almost to the bone but by some miracle of Faranth, were almost entirely on the outside of her arms, missing the major veins and arteries. They would scar, that was for sure, but she would live. By the time the Healers had finished carefully stitching and bandaging her arms, the Hatching Feast was still celebrating deep into the night, the Impresssion of the two newest golds jubilant in the air. Even the Midsummer Dreamers had been allowed to attend, albeit only for a short while, as well as being permitted to observe the Hatching from the Stands with all the other anxious spectators. Even if the dragons had started humming in the middle of the night.


Eventually, Ysolde had been settled in a quiet room. A couple of the Healers had carefully bathed the unconscious girl and gotten her into a clean nightgown. She would likely be kept unconscious for at least a day, if not more and a Mindhealer had already been discreetly made aware that chances were, they were getting a new patient. By the time they were finished she was clean, asleep and with bandages from her hands up almost to her shoulders. When she woke up, then they would decide what they needed to do regarding the state of her mind.


K'el felt like the wind had torn through his sails, stranding him helplessly dead in the proverbial water. He'd seen it happen. The first Hatching he'd had the privilege to attend as a spectator and things had gone horribly wrong from the start. Blood, so much blood. And poor Sorho, the boy hadn't stood a chance. K'el shot out of his seat as the violence started, Ysolde's name a scream ripped from his throat that joined the audience's horrified cacophony. He tried to rush the Sands, aimed to throw himself over the railing and race to her aid, all else forgotten in the moment. No risk of danger to himself or Alberith had entered his mind, all else forgotten in the heat of the moment. 


The next thing he felt was the impact and K'el was face-first on the floor, tackled to the ground by Ked'son before he could martyr himself to a pair of angry Sires. There was a brief struggle in which K'el cursed him and demanded to be set free, but Ko'ssen quickly joined them. Together they pulled K'el to his feet and ushered him back to the Barracks, but not before Ysolde's screaming forced them to drag him bodily through the first exit. Only once they were half-way back to the common rooms did the boy's fight finally give out. 


Alberith's agitation did not quite match his rider's, but his eyes were still swimming with the bright yellows and orange of alarm by the time they arrived - better than the roiling red they had been at the start. (( Crimson rain and inky ropes, is that what's inside all of you? )) He asked with morbid curiosity that wasn't nearly as calm as he seemed, filling the background with the static of his questions. (( Mine, will the one who spilled his insides get up soon? They dragged away the fire-haired maid, too, we saw it. Has she fallen as well? )) His interest in the new dragonets took a backseat in the distress his rider was feeling.


K’el remained silent up until the bronze’s nervous chatter began, tearing himself away from his guardians’ hold. “Al, just shut up for five minutes! --Sorry,” He snapped, regret instantly on his face. The dragon watched with his head cocked to one side, but for once, fell silent in the wake of K’el’s frustration. "I need to know if she's safe, there was so much blood! I have to know! Augh!" Turning away from all of them with an angry groan, his hands raised to rake fingers through his hair, K'el stalked across the foyer. "You have to let me go!"


It was so late, they’d had so few hours of sleep as it was with the new schedule. Adrenaline burned the exhaustion away, but took with it his patience and manners. 


Propping his eyelids open, Ked’son wished he had had the foresight to grab a mug of klah when the dragons had started humming. Shells, the middle of the night? He had been literally just about to crawl into his bed when it had begun and with a new class literally around the corner, there was no way he was getting a couple days off now. Huddled in the Stands, Ked’son had barely stifled a yawn as the first of the eggs began hatching and he wondered if anyone noticed if he took a discreet nap. But thoughts of naps and tiredness vanished like a piece of parchment in a flame as the murderous little green pounced her target and he watched a Candidate get disemboweled before his eyes. The Healers were already scurrying on scene, grabbing up another Candidate - a female - who had gotten in the green’s way as well as carrying the covered body of the boy away. 


What happened next took his brain a moment to catch up with. In slow motion he heard another scream, this time closer. As in sitting in the Stands a few seats away, closer. His eyes watched the mountainous form of K’el move, preparing to pitch himself over the railings. Ked’son had moved as though he was wading through quicksand. His arms had wrapped around the Weyrling’s waist as K’el was dragged to the ground. The young man was as strong as a determined bull but he had been dragged bodily from the Stands with supreme effort. Immediately Thaath had reached out to Alberith, reassuring the young bronze that His was returning to the Barracks and not to be alarmed, that His had just seen something rather distressing but emphasising that K’el was going to be okay.


Through sheer force of will, they had gotten K’el back to the Barracks and his wallow where his dragon waited. Ked’son had reassured that he would be fine left with the boy on his own, not wanting to leave the newest weyrlings without another pair of helping Weyrlingmaster hands.


“K’el, you need to listen to me, before we do anything you need to calm yourself and calm Alberith,” Ked’son said carefully, his voice a low, calm thrum, noting the whirling colours in the bronze’s eyes. Then, something seemed to click into place. The name K’el had screamed. Oh shells on baby flits… “K’el, the girl taken from the Sands…” The girl whose screams had been echoing down the corridor of the tunnels as they hoisted the Weyrling away. “... That was Ysolde?” The Ysolde. The subject of letters and amusing proclamations from a theatrical young dragon. And who they had last seemed covered in blood and surrounded by a group of Healers as they all but pulled her away.


"I am calm!" K'el shouted, sounding  outraged by the implication and twisting around to face Ked'son with an expression that was anything but what he claimed. "I'm FINE, *we* are just fine!" He gestured between himself and the anxious dragonet watching closely. The images, he couldn't stop the scene from playing out in his mind over and over. So much blood. He'd gutted fish his whole life and never seen so much of it as had been spilled on the Sands. Sorho's grisly end, and Ysolde… Faranth, she had been covered in red. So much blood...


When Ked'son said her name, his eyes sought the man out from beneath thick, furrowed brows. He felt anger boil in his core at the thought, at how helpless he was to save her. Fists curled at his sides with impotent fury, knuckles blanched. "YES!" He roared his frustration, as if Ked'son should have already known. "THE Ysolde! The only sharding Ysolde that matters! You have to let me out of here! I have to see her! I-I have to know if she's--" his voice cracked, the sentence too painful to finish. 


“No, you’re not K’el,” It was still said in that gentle and calm tone with no note of accusation whatsoever. He hadn’t so much as flinched at the roar. “And she was still on her feet, she was still walking so that means she was still breathing…” He gently pointed out the logical obvious. She hadn’t been carried off under a sheet. K’el needed to remember that. And as much as he didn’t want to point out, if she was able to scream, then she was definitely still alive. “... She’s with the Healers so you know they’re going to look after her. And what I’m going to do in a moment is have Thaath bespeak on of the dragons there to find out what’s happening. But you’re no good to her or Alberith right now. C’mon lad…” Ked’son was giving the Weyrling space to pace, flail, whatever he needed but he wasn’t entirely backing off either. Because a sliver of him didn’t trust K’el not to bolt and he definitely didn’t think he was going to take him down on his own.


Thaath gently reached out mentally, nudging Alberith. The big blue’s voice was a soft echo of Ked’son’s own. (( Mine will do whatever he can to help, Alberith. Humans can express very big emotions when they experience something like this. It can be overwhelming. Tell me how Yours is feeling so Mine can do the proper things for him… ))


(( Mine is scared! )) Alberith latched onto the lifeline that Thaath offered, fear leaking into his mindvoice. (( Mine thinks he will lose the girl crowned by fire, and he cracks in anticipation of that loss! So many deep wounds barely healed, what he has seen ripped away the scab!  Mine does not want to lose anyone else! ...also Mine told me to 'shut up' and I do not like it. )) He wasn't able to make sense of what had happened in the Hatching, of death, but he knew it had upset his rider and *that* was upsetting him. 


K'el stared daggers at Ked'son for several moments, breathing heavily through his nostrils, assessing. He wasn’t helping anyone the way he was right now, and he knew it. "Eh, fishguts," he muttered through his teeth, annoyed to realize that the WLM was correct. He felt that righteous anger begin to seep away, leaving only the manic worry that creased his face. "I-I'm... I shouldn't have snapped at you, or you, Al." Squeezing shut his eyes, K'el raised opening fists to grab handfuls of his own short hair. He could do this! He had to put the dragon first, this was his only duty. "I just.. if she's hurt-- I promised I'd be there. I should be-- I *need* to be by her side!"


Alberith crossed the distance between them to press his dark, little head into K'el's chest, causing the boy to open his eyes in surprise. (( No one can stop us together! )) The dragonet declared. (( I won't let anyone else lose their inside-ropes, we'll stand together and face the bad as a united front! …Right, Mine? ))


K'el threw his arms around the bronze's triangular face and bowed to squeeze tight. "Right." When he released, Alberith twisted to peer at Ked'son with swirling yellow eyes. (( Now do as Mine commands! Take us to our charge so that we may guard her! ))


The information was passed along to Ked’son, even as Thaath continued to reassure the bronze that he and His were there and not going anywhere. The blue bulked up his mind presence, his voice filled with gentle reassurance that things were going to  be alright.


Ked’son took his dragon’s silent words on carefully. He had taken the time to glimpse through most of the Weyrlings’ files now that he was going to be around the Barracks more and vaguely remembered a note that K’el had lost most of his family shortly before being Searched. Ah. That would explain an awful lot. He was hugely reassured to see the boy reach out to his bronze and was not entirely surprised by Alberith’s command. At least they were both on the same page which was, in it’s own way, a good thing. Besides, it wasn’t as though Alberith were some barely sevenday old hatchling anymore. He shook his head at the bronze’s insistence. “I won’t take you there right away, because if the Healers are working, they need to do so efficiently. But as I’ve said the first thing I’ll do is have Thaath bespeak one of their dragons and we’ll find out what is going on. Then and only then, if the Healers permit it, I will ask them about you both being taken to her. They have a job to do first and none of us, not even me, can get in the way of that right now. You need to trust that they’re doing their job first and they need to do their job. If we start getting in the way right now, we’re only slowing things down.”


At times like these he could use a firelizard. Instead, he had Thaath bespeak the dragon of Vivaeldi, he knew she was also a Healer, his eyes losing focus. Without needing to be prompted, Thaath had layered the need for urgency in knowing what was going on, deftly explaining that one of the Weyrlings was distressed and needed to be updated. It only took a few minutes but it felt as though turns had gone by. Ked’son hadn’t even realised that he was waiting with bated breath when Thaath finally spoke to him again. Unconsciously his shoulders dropped a little in relief and he turned back towards the Weyrling pair as he scrubbed a hand through his short blond hair.


“Okay… so it’s good news…” Of sorts. But he would get to that. But the first thing K’el needed to know was that everything was more or less okay.


It grated on K'el that Ked'son had a point. He'd started as a healer apprentice upon joining the Weyr and he knew he was in way over his head when it came to that craft. What did he think he was going to do, hold towels? Hand out tools? Lurk in the corner like some VTOL on the wall? For now he was nothing but an additional burden, no use to Ysolde while she needed their care. The threat to his pride prevented him from admitting it, but he knew. "O-Okay," he croaked, the earlier venom entirely absent from his voice. "I'll.. We'll wait." Not that he had much of a choice. 


Alberith stood sentinel before his rider as K'el struggled to compose himself, amber facets fixed on Ked'son as if he might hear the distant telepathy through sheer force of will. He couldn't, but he would try! The boy beside him scrubbed at his own face, steadying his breath in the effort to bring his heart rate down, to clear his mind. It did not appear to be working well if the frustration etched in his scrunched face was proof. All he could think of was the girl, of the bloody shower she'd been drenched in, of her screams echoing in the hallway. Every time the loop played again, he felt like his walls were crumbling. He couldn't lose her, too. Not this again. 


Alberith nudged him gently and K'el scrubbed at his shiny hide to reassure the dragon as much as himself. When Ked'son's thousand-yard stare vanished and his voice returned, K'el's head popped up instantly. "...Good news?" Hope chased away the fear in his voice, but the mountain remained on verge of crumbling. "What is it?" Unwinding his arms from around Alberith, K'el rushed toward the WLM expectantly. "Tell me!"


So it seemed he was getting through to the lad. Somewhat. But given the situation it wasn’t as though he expected the Weyrling to become a waterfall of calm as K’el rushed towards him. “Easy, lad…” he said, raising his hands placatingly. “... She’s alive. They had to fellis her so she’s unconscious at the moment. Now, she has been injured and in all honesty, it’s not nice. Some serious lacerations to her arms. But…” he paused a second as he emphasised the caveat. “... They’re not life threatening. The Healers are stitching her up at the moment and that is going to take them some time because of how many and how deep. But they say she’s going to be okay.” Physically at least. Ked’son had no idea what the poor girl would be like when she finally woke up. “When they’re done, they’re going to let me know. But right now, we’re just going to be getting under their feet.”


Ked’son inspected the Weyrling, his aching bones horribly aware of the time. “So we’ve got two choices here. Either you try and get a little bit of rest and when the Healers contact me, I’ll come get you. Or you come back with me to my office and we try to have something to drink. Thaath says he’s happy to have Alberith come sit with him if he’d like.”


K'el took two main things away: the first, that Ysolde was alive, the second, that she *was* injured. It was a mixture of feelings that struck him all at once, relief and concern at war with one another. On the other hand, her wounds were serious enough to require both stitches and fellis. They would be painful healing, but she would survive. Knowing she lived let him breathe again, or it felt that way, a weight lifted from his chest. He stepped back from the Weyrlingmaster to give both of them some space, well aware of how imposing his bulk tended to be - even when he wasn't in a panic.  


"Thank Faranth," K'el's shoulders slumped as he willed himself to relax, to let go of the anxiety. "She's okay. It's gonna be okay." He was no longer looking at Ked'son, but through him, withdrawing to sort through his thoughts. That surge of adrenaline still coursed through his veins, kept him wired and on edge. At this point, K'el felt like he might never sleep again. "I won't be able to sleep," he admitted, pausing before adding more quietly, "not until I see her." Heat flooded his face, the flush of infatuated embarrassment. 


Using the needs of his dragon as deflection, K'el glanced back to Alberith while they briefly conversed. "Al says he wouldn't mind a companion, that Thaath can.. uh.. help him keep the danger away." He cringed, this statement more embarrassing than the last. *He* knew the danger was gone, even if his mind wouldn't let it go. 


Ked'son didn't even bat an eyelid. "He's already waiting out by the Barracks doors. You send your boy out to him and then come along with me. I’ll get the stove on and make up a brew.” And likely add a small dose of something to it to take the edge off the Weyrling’s nerves. Wasn’t like he was going to get blind drunk from a dash of brandy in his klah. No, Ked’son had no intention of doing anything but occupying K’el’s thoughts with enough random small talk until they had word back from the Healers. All he could do was hope that it wouldn’t take them extraordinary amounts of time but as it was, he expected this to take a while.


With a friendly gesture, he encouraged K’el to follow him. True to his word, Thaath was indeed sat waiting outside the Barracks, his own gaze speckled with orange and yellow at the fingers of worry threading through his own Rider. No, he was sure that lessons would be postponed tomorrow… or was it now today? And if not, well he would have to quietly speak to Ko’ssen and ensure that the lad was excused. “I know I’ve not been about as much so far, but I’m sure you’ve probably walked past my office a hundred times without knowing.”


K’el didn’t hesitate in relaying the order to Alberith, turning to find the bronze already acting on Thaath’s offer and stomping toward the doorway on short legs. He hurried to open the door ahead of his dragon, pausing long enough to let Alberith through and watch until he had joined the blue. There had been too much loss already and the boy was clearly hypervigilant now. Only once Alberith was securely under Thaath’s wing did K’el jog back to where Ked’son waited for him to follow, then adjusting his pace to match his tutor’s. 


“It’s... probably a good thing I haven’t been to your office much,” he replied with a wry twist of his mouth. “I try not to make trouble anymore. I, uh, haven’t had time for it, honestly.” K’el tried to pay attention to where they were going, but kept finding himself distracted by worried thoughts that would not cease. He focused on keeping his feet moving forward, eyes on the floor. “..How long do you think it’ll take?” He asked, referring obviously to Ysolde’s stitching. There was no real way to be certain, but it was clear he was grasping at straws for comfort. 


Thaath had crooned softly to the young bronze as soon as Alberith had appeared through the doors. He had barely lifted his wing in invitation before Alberith had wormed his way underneath and Thaath’s rumble had been one of amused satisfaction as he tucked the weyrling close to him. (( We shall watch for danger lurking in the shadows that wants to hurt Ours. And we shall chase it away with our most fearsome roars! )) He had snapped his jaws in dramatic effect as he settled himself more comfortably.


Ked’son hadn’t rushed K’el, letting him watch Alberith and when the Weyrling had joined him, Ked’son had given the lad an amiable smile. “Truth be told, I don’t tend to take many Weyrlings to my office to tell them off. I generally leave my door open to just let people know I’m there if they want to come in and talk at all. I don’t like to seen just as a disciplinarian. It’s tough not having people around these first few months so I always extend that branch if people want to take me up on it.” As they settled into an easy pace, Ked’son had tucked his hands in his pockets. 


“Honestly?” he said after a moment when K’el asked how long they’d be. “I don’t know. But,” he quickly emphasised, “They’ll be working as fast as they need to. But at the same time, they can’t rush what they’re doing. Stitch-work takes time because they have to be careful. But I’m sure they won’t keep us waiting any longer than they need to.” His office wasn’t far away and he gestured towards the familiar door. “Just in here.”


K'el was quiet while Ked'son spoke and remained that way for a few minutes afterward, throwing himself into one of the chairs before taking in the room with a sweep of his eyes once they arrived. "I'll have to remember that, about your office. I don't think I’ve ever had a chat in a setting like this *without* getting scolded." The distraction of a new environment and subject helped briefly to keep his mind occupied. For a moment, he sounded almost fine, if a little sad. "It.. it has been very weird cut off from everyone else. Felt like I was finally starting to make friends when Impression happened, a-and then, *poof*. Starting all over again." His expression turned guilty. "..Not that I would trade Al for anything, but-- yeah, weird."


And there it went, the change visible in his face as much as his posture when his thoughts stumbled over Ysolde. Brows low over his eyes, K'el's mouth thinned to a worried line and his shoulders sank just enough to make him appear to slump. "Storms, I just-- I just need her to be okay." The boy's head sank into his hands with a frustrated sigh that belied his fear.


As the weyrling collapsed into a chair, Ked’son busied himself with getting the small stove brewing a fresh pot of klah. He glanced over at K’el at his words about not having been in the office. “Well, my door’s always open. I encourage the weyrlings to leave a note if they want to speak to me and I’m not here. I appreciate that in the Barracks it’s a bizarre combination of feeling isolated and yet under complete scrutiny.” As he waited for the pot to come to a boil, Ked’son dropped himself into another chair, this one clearly well worn and had seen many a night with him propped up in it. “It’s hard. Even if you’ve been a Candidate for a good while. You’re settling in, used to a routine and then all of a sudden you’re thrown into a totally new schedule surrounded by people that perhaps you didn’t know so well or maybe didn’t even really like so much. But now you’re in the fifth  month, you get a bit more freedom again so you can start seeing people and trust me, that makes a big difference.”


He watched K’el carefully, a sympathetic frown pulling at his features. “The Healers said she’ll be fine, K’el. She’ll need some recovery time, but it’s not life-threatening at all.” Ked’son paused, because now he was starting to think that this “Ysolde” was in the weyrling’s thoughts a whole lot more than he had initially suspected, brushing it off as more of a harmless youthful crush. “K’el… you’ve taken this awfully hard. And I know we had a bit of a chat about Ysolde and who she was to you. And I won’t lie, I didn’t think it was much more than some cheerful fancy with a little mental occupation on the side,” his smile came back tinged with its usual playful cheekiness. “... But I’m starting to think that this Ysolde is a whole lot more important than you’re letting on.” Before he could say anything else, the kettle began to whistle and Ked’son got back up, tending to the klah and giving the weyrling some space to speak. 


K'el tensed at Ked'son's words, flinching like he had been struck. "I am NOT a liar," he replied hotly, glancing up from between his hands. His stomach twisted as if this were a vulnerability he hadn't yet considered for himself and the shock of it stirred his anger. Was she more important to him than even he realized? He *liked* her, he was certain of that as he was of the flutterbynights in his stomach every time he opened one of her letters. And having seen her bathed in blood.. the mental image made his face scrunch in revulsion and worry all over again. He scrubbed at his cheeks with his palms, but wouldn't close his eyes, knowing the picture would be there waiting for him. "She's…" he trailed off before he'd even really begun. K'el wanted to say she is a very good friend, but those words failed to fully encompass the constriction in his chest while he thought about her plight. Instead he faltered, a sigh hissed through his teeth. 


He loved her. He felt like he'd barely started to get to know her, but he couldn't get enough. It was embarrassing to admit he had fallen head over heels for the girl, like he had done something foolish in falling so hard so soon, but these feelings.. when it came to Ysolde, he had no control. K'el knew what they were, even if he couldn't admit so to Ked'son. 


The boy swallowed hard. "I, uh.. I could really use a drink," he said sheepishly at last. 


Busying himself about the stove, Ked’son’s chuckle came over his shoulder. When he returned, he was holding out a mug of klah that had had a careful dose of brandy to it. He didn’t think it would do any harm, the hot water would kill off a lot of the alcohol. But it would be enough to take the edge off, nothing more. “No one’s calling you a liar. Least of all me.” Retreating to his chair, he folded his long legs easily, draping one ankle over his opposite knee as he pulled his own mug close to him. “There’s nothing wrong with having feelings, lad. We just keep half an eye the first months as you know. Some folks find it hard to work around them when they’re bringing up a new dragon because of how intense it all is. Plus, when you’re in isolation the way you are, some folks find it easier to cling to them which can be dangerous in itself or find themselves resentful that they’re taken away from that. Being told that you can’t be around people? It gets in your head. In weird ways sometimes. You all experience a strange sort of isolation and some people find that hard to cope with.”


K'el stared into the cup a few moments before he took a sip, brooding over the weyrlingmaster's reply. The recognizable hint of alcohol sent his eyebrows skyrocketing, surprised to find the taste in his klah. He hadn't expected Ked'son to actually comply!  Honey-colored eyes flashed a look at the other man alight with newfound respect before he drank deeply. The warmth was comforting as it settled in his stomach, radiating outward with a calming effect. It *did* make the young man feel better, if only a little. "..Thank you," he said over the rim, keeping the cup near his face to breathe in the aroma. 


"I guess.. it all started when I first saw her," he began despite lingering reservations. Pouring his feelings out to the one man he had come to trust, K'el walked Ked'son through his first encounter with Ysolde all the up to their correspondence, which he gave a rough overview of absent some of the more private details. He was so clearly smitten with the girl, it couldn't have been more obvious had it been painted across his face in red ink. K'el might have waxed on about her ad nauseum had news not arrived. 


Sitting back in his chair, Ked’son let the Weyrling talk. He asked only a few questions here and there, most of the time he was watching K’el. What he didn’t say, his expression certainly did. He could have read him like a book. The only real interruption he made was to refill their mugs on more than one occasion, this time without the brandy. There was no doubt that the Weyrling was head over heels. He made a mental note to have a chat with Ko’ssen later, just to bring him up to speed. 


The time moved by, K’el talking and Ked’son listening. It probably made the time move faster than just sitting in awkward silence at least. He had been idly contemplating putting a new kettle on to boil when Thaath had given him a mental nudge, discreetly telling Ked'son that Vivaeldi’s dragon had bespoken him again. Setting the mug to one side, he stretched, grunting in obvious discomfort as joints popped and complained. "Time to shake your boots," he said as he got to his feet. "Healers are done. They've brought her down to the dragon side for the moment so Alberith can come too. They've said she's still unconscious because of the fellis, but we can meet them there and you'll be allowed to sit a while if you'd like."


Where he leaned back comfortably against his chair over the course of their conversation, K’el jolted like he’d been struck, bolting upright and onto his feet shortly thereafter. “It is?” The look of elation was pure and unguarded when it showed on his features. “Right now? Thank Faranth!” He’d never before felt more devotion to the deified dragon than he did today. “I mean, yes. Yes, I’d like to do that.” K’el fought to contain himself and tried to school his emotions so that he didn’t affect Alberith, but was only moderately successful. 


He didn’t wait for Ked’son to lead the way this time, knowing that he would follow, navigating the route back through the Weyrling Barracks and outside with practiced ease. If there was one thing he never had trouble with, it was a sense of direction. 


Alberith had needed his time under Thaath’s protective wing, the blue’s steady presence and kind words precisely the reassurance his frightened young mind required. As his rider’s distress had been mostly abated, he was able to pull himself together. At K’el’s word, he squirmed free of the older dragon’s comforting grasp and went galloping awkwardly toward the entrance he expected the humans to emerge from. (( Mine! I will get to meet The Queen at long last! ))


“Sort of, pal,” he explained aloud, greeting the bronze with an affectionate pat on the cheek. “From afar for now. Maybe when she’s awake and ready for more, you can say hello yourself.”


(( I don’t need to be at her side to say hello. )) Alberith replied with all the petulance of a toddler being denied, but bounded happily ahead of them toward the Infirmary without further complaint. Who else should lead the way!


Ked'son barely had a chance to leave the mugs to one side before the Weyrling was half sprinting down the Barrack corridors. "Steady on, lad, you'll do no one any good if you trip and break your neck.” It only took a few minutes for them to emerge out of the main doors that opened into the Weyr Bowl. Thaath was settling himself back down for a snooze after Alberith removed himself. It was the middle of the night after all.


With K’el setting the pace, it certainly didn’t take them long to cross the Bowl towards the Infirmary where a Healer was clearly waiting for them. Maithera had been sent to await their arrival when she had been told that they were on the way so that they could be escorted through to the larger, dragon side of the Infirmary. It was about the only place that a dragon, or rather, a five month old Weyrling bronze dragon, could be accommodated.


“Assistant Weyrlingmaster Ked’son?” she called out, lifting her hand in greeting to them both, and to catch their attention. “Are you here about Ysolde?”


Alberith was the first to arrive, stamping impatiently while he waited for the two men to catch up. He didn’t speak to the Healer awaiting them, just peered at her briefly and then raised his head as if he might be able to see past and find the girl first. K’el jogged to close the distance once he saw the woman at the entrance, abandoning Ked’son to either do the same or join them moments later. 


“Ysolde?” He asked with the slightly airy quality of someone nearly out of breath. “We’re here to see her, show us in!” There was a commanding note in his words, a far cry from the despairing panic he had been filled with earlier in the night.


Maithera was used to dealing with the panicked aftermath of concern for patients. The Weyrling’s tone didn’t go unmissed, but she didn’t immediately challenge him on it. However, she pointedly turned her attention to Ked’son, making it clear that to her, he was the one in charge here.


Catching up, Ked’son greeted Maithera with a friendly salute. “Aye, we’re here about a young lady you have. This young man is a friend of hers and keen to establish her wellbeing. Obviously we appreciate the situation is a little unorthodox but we appreciate the time you’re taking to keep us informed.”


The Healer nodded in polite acknowledgement of the Bluerider’s words. “Obviously I will remind you both that you’re going to be entering a recuperation area. This time of night most of our other patients are sleeping. So I would politely remind you both to be considerate of them as well and keep noise to a minimum. For the moment, we have brought Ysolde into one of the empty dragon wallows. I was informed that your Weyrling’s dragon would likely also wish to be present, so we have made sure that there is space to accommodate him as well. However after this evening, Ysolde will be moved back into the main ward.”


Maithera turned her attention on K’el, her expression firm but patient. “I appreciate that you want to see her. But I must stress that you need to ensure neither you or your dragon are disruptive - for the sake of the other patients. Ysolde is unconscious and will remain so, likely for a day or more. She did sustain significant lacerations to her arms. They have been sutured and will heal well with proper care so there is no immediate concern for her safety. It is now a case of determining her recovery process. I am happy to show you in, and, if you agree to sit quietly, equally happy to allow you to sit with her for a while.”


K'el was quite used to being brushed off as he had no real authority, but that didn't stop his hackles from rising at the unspoken insult. He let Ked'son take the lead without grumbling, waiting with as much patience as could be managed, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Hearing about Ysolde's condition gave him some comfort, reinforcing the news Ked'son had already relayed. She'd be alright, she just needed time. When Maithera did finally address him, K'el straightened respectfully.


"Yes, ma'am. I'd like that. We can behave, can't we, Al?" He glanced over his shoulder at the bronze dragon looming behind them. “We won’t do anything to disturb the other patients, or to harm Ysolde.” 


Alberith gave an emphatic snort, tossing his head indignantly. (( I am offended that she thinks I will cause a commotion! I am dignified and refined, I am no brute! ))


K’el returned his attention to Maithera with a brief and polite bow of his own head. “He says he’ll be on his best behavior.”


Maithera smiled gently at K’el. “We remind everyone coming in, especially during stressful circumstances. It’s easy to forget there’s other people around you when you’re fixed on one person. That and given the ridiculous hour it is, as well.” She glanced at Ked’son who nodded at her for her to lead the way.


“If you follow me,” she said, turning on her heel. 


“I’ll come with you and make sure you’ve found a seat and so on, then I’ll go and talk to the Healers whilst you sit with her.” Ked’son chimed in. It was a polite and subtle way of just noting that he would hang around for the moment if he needed to and then he would give K’el some privacy. That and he just wanted to make sure that the Weyrling wasn’t going to tip the scales on actually seeing whatever condition this Ysolde was in. Sometimes the seeing was a whole lot worse than whatever the head had conjured up.


It didn’t take long to walk through the Infirmary. Just as Maithera had said, it had the hushed quiet of the night time workers, the occasional Healer doing bed checks, quietly sitting at the duty desk and working on papers. Ushering them through to the dragon side, Maithera led them past several wallows where the sleeping shapes of dragons could be seen, towards a wallow where a large curtain had been drawn across for privacy.


“She’s in here. Remember, she is unconscious because of the fellis but there’s no harm in sitting and talking to her. She’s heavily bandaged and it looks a lot worse than it is.” Maithera pulled back the curtain, gesturing for K’el and Alberith to enter. When they did, Alberith would be able to settle himself on the empty wallow and the bed was occupied with a small, sleeping figure whose arms were heavily bandaged from fingers almost to shoulder. Ked’son followed but instead stopped near the curtain, giving K’el and Alberith space. “There’s a chair in the corner there, lad, if you want it. I’m happy to let you sit here a while unless you’d like me to stay and sit with you.”


K'el shook his head and flashed Ked'son a small smile. "I think we'll be okay, and.. thank you. For this, for everything." He wasn't sure exactly what he would have done or what might have happened had the other man not tackled him during the Hatching, but it wouldn't have been good. More importantly, there was nothing he could have accomplished that would have helped Ysolde. 


Ysolde. He stepped into the room and drew the curtain closed once Alberith had followed inside. (( She is alive. )) The bronze noted in unusual reticence as he moved past the cot with the utmost care, climbing onto the wallow beyond where he could watch comfortably.  K'el stood at the threshold for several moments unable to tear his eyes away from her, breath caught in his throat, before he collected the chair from the corner and brought it to her bedside. 


She was so beautiful. Even in her sleep, Ysolde put every woman he'd ever met to shame. It was more than her outward appearance, she was so full of life and passion, so kind and outspoken. To see her laying silently wrapped in so many bandages, only the rise and fall of her chest to reassure him she still breathed, drove a blade through him. 


K'el took his seat beside her, vision blurring with tears he blinked away before they could fall. "I'm so sorry," he said, painfully aware of how loud his strangled voice seemed in the quiet room. "Ysolde, we-- ..I wasn't there when you needed me."


(( We are here now. )) Alberith bespoke only K'el, unwilling to disturb the recuperating queen while she slept. (( I will watch over you both. ))


The boy didn't respond, but his dragon’s words were of some small comfort. He wanted so badly to take Ysolde's hand in his own, but didn't dare disturb the bandages that covered them. Instead, he reached to brush red hair he found lovely even then away from her face. Before withdrawing, he stroked her gentle plane of her cheek reverently with the back of his fingers. "I.. I'm not real sure if you'll hear this, but.. Ysolde, I can't stand the thought of doing this without you. You're.. storms, you're all I think about.  I've missed you, I have so much to tell you. You have to get better soon and come back to me." He knew the Healers said she would recover, but until she awakened, he'd continue to worry.


(( When she does, we will be here. )) Alberith promised his rider. 


With the stress of that night and the conversation that had stretched into the early morning hours, K'el had managed to stay wide awake. But now, with the subject of his desire in front of him, he felt more at ease than he had in many candlemarks. That relaxation meant exhaustion soon weighed on his shoulders and, with his arms folded and chin laid atop his chest, K'el fell asleep slumped back against the chair. 


(( Thaath, Mine needs to return to our wallow. He slumbers as we speak. )) Alberith reached out to Ked'son's dragon as soon as he felt his rider drift off. He cared for this girl by proxy of K'el, but the boy would always be his first priority.


= End. =




--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!


Re: Hatching - Wriggling Gloom (Rennitz, ACM) #HatchingForeth2020

Ren
 

It started as a little niggle in the back of her mind, similar to her firelizards. Rennitz sent the thoughts a gentle quieting shush while watching the two gold eggs still. She was more than a little surprised when her two firelizards chimed in from their place outside to ask who she was talking to. Wait, that made no sense. What did they mean? There was Jevensha's golden presence, Aranck's strong brown one, and Basilith's-

Wait.

Basilith?

Looking up at Foreth and then back down at the eggs, it started to dawn on Rennitz. She wouldn't be a goldrider, now or ever. All the responsibility she'd chosen to accept, all of the work-

{{Rennitz! Come on, come see my pet and help me choose a name for him!}}

- was now going to be directed to her blue. Giving Foreth and her eggs a sorrowful yet grateful look and a bow, Rennitz took off at full speed towards and down the stairs, nearly tripping over the stone until she reached the bottom to find the pale blue waiting there with a-

"- a tunnelsnake?" Rennitz asked him in surprise. "What are you doing with that, Basilith?"

{{I found it with Euryath's hel, though I did most of the work.}} Basilith was quick to point that part out with pride. Rennitz saw through him but let the blue believe what he wanted. 

"Alright... You should let him go, though. I don't think they'll let you have that in the barracks."

{{Why not?}} Basilith demanded with a fussy thum of his tail. {{It's mine!}}

"Pets aren't allowed in the barracks, Basilith." Rennitz's tone was firm as she put her will behind the words. The blue tried to continue to defy her but another push of insistence from his rider had the blue sighing and putting the snake down. The tunelsnake hissed at Basilith and tried to rear back to bite, but Rennitz kicked it away. "Come on, let's go get you food."

{{What's that?}} Basilith asked, snapping his sharp fangs after the snake and following Rennitz.

"You'll see, my love. But I promise you'll like it. I wouldn't lie to you, would I?"

{{Never!}} The blue's response was vehement and defined, sure that this perfect human could and would never lie to him. So Basilith followed Rennitz to where the AWLMs had set up food and went towards a bowl set aside for blues. {{Ahh, that smells positively divine, my dear. Is that for me?}}

"It is," Rennitz relied with a smile as she took it up and picked up some chunks of meat. "I'll give you these, but you must chew them, yes? Like this." Rennitz mimed chewing to show him and was pleased with Basilith mimiced her even without meat. "Good, like that. Now open your mouth so I can feed you." When the deadly maw was opened, Rennitz tossed in a couple gobbets of meat and watched as Basilith chewed slowly and then swallowed. "Brilliant! Well done, my love. Here, more."

The girl fed her dragon slowly while watching to make sure that he chewed the whole time. As he ate, she thought to herself. Well, now she had her blue which she could use to make sure Yiyu was okay. Beyond that, he would fly Thread and breathe fire to make sure Pern was safe. Win-win, really. Her fate was sealed with this blue, and she did want him. Faranth, did she want him. Was he better than a gold? Rennitz tentatively out to the feeding blue and immediately felt his love and adoration for her and allowed herself to get lost in it.

Basilith's love and devotion was full and complete. He worshipped Rennitz and would do anything for her. He'd fight and kill to keep her safe and would be her undying friend to the end. Rennitz didn't know when the tears started but they ran unchecked down her face as she fed the last few bites to Basilith. This was her best and truest friend and he was perfect, in general and for her.
--
Out of the fire comes new life. Telgar Rises!

Are you afraid of the dark? Come play in the Shadow...


A Splash Of Darkness (Iridan/Kraketh SA)

Steelsilver
 

Kraketh followed, but didn’t have as easy of luck. He went from Candidate to Candidate, rubbing against them and getting their robes wet. ((Are you going to help me?)) he asked one but moved on when there was no response.


Krakethcontinued to ask the question until he stopped in front of another Candidate. He bugled in triumph. ((MINE! You’re my ~Iridan~.))  

Iridan saw the two blues approaching, attention finally dragged from the spot where Sorho had been by the uneasy shifting around him; he breathed a sigh of relief when one blue stopped, turned away toward another Candidate. 

The other blue kept coming. No, no no- He'd wanted a bronze, shardit! He'd hoped, again, and again, and again- 

Kraketh bugled, and greeted him, and the Candidate- no, he was a Weyrling now, wasn't he?- sank slowly to his knees. 

((Mine! I need you to help me!)) Kraketh insisted, nudged at His once more. ((Come on, we need to fix my stomach!))

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