Logs:Four Queens
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| RL Date: 7 July, 2011 |
| Who: K'del, Lorna, Rhaelyn |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: (part of) the arrival of Iovniath's third clutch. |
| Where: Hatching Galleries, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 26, Month 2, Turn 26 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Tiriana/Mentions |
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| Hatching Galleries, High Reaches Weyr Ringing the southwestern side of the hatching sands are ample tiers of carved stone benches, the lowest of which is some six feet off the ground -- just high enough to separate wayward hatchlings from unwary viewers, and vice versa. A metal railing on the outside helps prevent anyone from falling off; it also extends up the stairs that lead the way higher into the galleries. While most of the area is open seating, ropes section off some of the closer tiers when dignitaries are expected; those areas even feature cushions in the Weyr's blue and black. The higher one climbs, the more apparent the immense scale of the entire cavern becomes. The dragon-sized entrance on the ground is dwarfed by the expansive golden sands that glitter in the light. Everything on them is easily visible from the galleries, whether that's a clutch of eggs and a broody queen, or simply its emptiness and the handful of darker tunnels that lead to more private areas than the bowl. Wherever one sits or looks, however, one thing is constant: the overwhelming, suffocating heat. Word has been going around the weyr for a while, now: Iovniath is clutching. It's a slow process, of course, but that hasn't stopped much of the weyr from filtering in and out of the galleries to keep an eye on proceedings. Besides, with the weather is miserable as it has been for much of the winter, the galleries are actually pretty pleasant. Sitting down in the lower tiers, K'del has a stack of reports that he's likely /supposed/ to be going through, but he seems to have abandoned them for clutching-watching the same as everyone else: he seems pretty pleased. Lorna is one of those filtering people. She doesn't seem to be in much of a rush to get to the galleries, like most weyrfolk who realize that clutching isn't quite the fastest thing in the world. As she enters the galleries, the cook glances up the higher tiers, but she frowns when she sees how many people are milling about up there. So she gives up the better view, instead finding herself near K'del in the lower area. Her posture snaps rigidly into place when she notices this. She peers at his stack of reports curiously for a moment, but his knot seems to be stopping her from actually saying anything. Instead, she nervously nurses the warm mug of klah in her hands. K'del is /generally/ considered relatively approachable (as these things go), when he's not upset about something; the fact that, having heard Lorna's approach, he turns his gaze towards her with a beaming smile is probably even more useful. Potentially, anyway. "Hello!" he enthuses, brightly. "Can you see? Nine already. Reckon it's going to be a pretty good-sized clutch, all told." The smile certainly helps, though Lorna's gaze continues to flitter nervously to K'del's Weyrleader knot. Now that she's been addressed directly, she at least has an excuse to pipe up. "Hello, sir." Her voice has a tense tone, but it's not quiet--from her all her time in the kitchens she's learned to speak up. She tilts her head towards the sands to inspect the eggs that are there so far when he prompts her. "Yes, nine. How far along is she? I remember they announced when she started in the living caverns, but I was busy doing food prep...eration." She haltingly turns her short form into the full word--are you supposed to do that around the Weyrleader? From the sands, >---< Dessicated Foliage Egg >-----------------------------------------------< Maybe it used to be bright and leafy. Maybe it was once full of autumnal colors. Whatever the case, the colors of this egg have been smashed and sludged together into an unsavory dark brown, hints of sickly yellow peeking through here and there, a swath of slightly inkier oil slick snaking its way through the crevices between rotted redfruit crimson and moldy swamp green. >----------------------------------------------------------------------------< The arrival of the tenth egg goes unnoticed by K'del at first; he's too busy smiling at Lorna. "Oh - you're in the kitchens, aren't you? Thought I recognised your face. Don't think I know your name, though?" Out on the sands, Cadejoth's triumphant rumble as he hastens to pat sand around the newest arrival draws his gaze back: he beams. Again. "Hard to tell, really. She's been at it for hours. Last clutch, she had twenty, of course, but with three queens... can't expect it to be that big this time, you know? A couple more at least, though." Lorna brushes a strand of hair out of her face as she nods. "Yes, that's right. I'm one of the cooks. Lorna." She manages to get her introduction out just before Cadejoth's rumble, which steals her attention for a moment. The young woman gets a glimpse of the new egg's rather unsightly colours, though she chooses not to comment on them. "Right, there are quite a few queens now." Her kitchen-centric mind spurs her to add: "Many eggs means many dragons to feed, that's for sure. It's a good thing we don't have to cook for them!" But she flashes a toothy smile. "Of course, it's still nice to get a big one. Show that we're strong and tough." The cook seems a little more at ease, judging from her posture, which has slumped back into her usual slouch. She doesn't venture to sit yet, however. "It's nice to meet you, Lorna," puts in K'del, turning his gaze from the eggs and back towards the cook. He indicates the benches around him, adding, "You can sit, you know. Imagine you spend most of the day on your feet... might as well sit while you can." /His/ long legs are propped up on some of the benches in front of him, draping lazily. "Mm, means more Candidates to feed, I guess? Though, these days, we don't Search outside the weyr that much. But, yeah: big sends the right message. The 'we're doing well' message, I guess." Out on the sands, Iovniath strains-- clearly, another egg is on its way. Already. From the sands, >---< Every Woman's Opportunity Egg >----------------------------------------< A gold, in this mottled thing? Its larger than average, to be sure, and those are definitely gold flecks dotting the shell, in between the shadows that lace it. But something seems almost off about it, like its /too/ gold, /too/ shiny. Too /something/. Only a fool would mistake it for the real thing, right? >----------------------------------------------------------------------------< Lorna doesn't take long to accept the invitation once its given. She swoops down onto the bench, close to K'del, but she also remains at a respectful distance. "You're right, I do spend most of my time standing. But you get pretty used to it. My feet are calloused up by now." Even if she's used to standing, her eyes still half-close with pleasure for a few seconds as relief flows through her limbs. "Oh yeah? I did not realize more Candidates were brought in if there were more eggs. But of course that makes sense." She frowns when he mentions not searching outside of the Weyr, but she bites her lower lip anxiously rather than commenting on that tidbit. Instead, she's nice and innocuous: "Oh! Another egg. Looks like there might be another queen, eh? Now /that/ would send a nice, proud message." K'del seems pleased (more pleased? It's not easy, given his smiles thus far) by Lorna's willingness to sit, and nods along merrily to what she has to say; there's amusement there, too, for her so obvious pleasure. "Mm, we usually try to have twice as many candidates as there are eggs, just to give them some choice. We'll probably have /some/ candidates from outside, but--" Her remark about the latest egg turns his eyes wide, and he half rises from his seat to stare, to get a better look. "/Shells/. Four queens? That's--" A beat. He looks almost horrified, actually. "Excuse me a minute? I need to--" Check, apparently, since he's heading down onto the sands, stepping around a very smug looking Cadejoth to get a closer look. K'del's expression is kind of green. A small group of girls make a noisey entry into the galleries. There's no awe and silence about them as their voices ring loud and proud in gossiping between one another. "I hear that they are big as children." One girl is saying and then another pipes up with, "And I hear that they are placed out on steaming hot stands." But Rhaelyn is the silent one in the group, only her eyes are alert and burning as hot as that sand as she tries to get a glimps of this clutching-thing. "Hush." She says to the other two, "Mara, go ahead there and lets find a seat up front." Lorna's brown eyes widen with surprise as K'del hops off. To her, a queen seems like an automatically good thing--but then, as a cook, she doesn't exactly have to worry much about politics and administration. She calls after him, with a touch of confusion in her voice, "Ah...sure?" She fills the momentary silence with a few sips of her still-steaming klah and takes the moment to glance over all the first eggs that she missed. When she notices Rhaelyn and her gaggle searching for free spots, she wiggles farther away from the aisle to silently offer up space. Mara, a rather fish-faced young woman lifts her chin imperiously in Lorna's movement, "Over here Rhae. There's room for us." The big girl scoots close to Lorna, not shy about bumping into her while Rhae takes center and the short, delicate looking younger girl takes up the other side of her. "Hello." Rhaelyn makes a friendlier greeting around Mara, "How do you tell what color dragon is within the egg?" Mara of course blurts out, "The blue ones must have blue dragons in them." As though Rhae were stupid for not thinking it herself. From the sands, >---< The Boob Tube Egg >----------------------------------------------------< Sadly out of fashion, drab and bulky, this monolith to an age gone by stands resolute, alone, and -- large. Brown covers the sides, patterned lightly over dark, giving the odd impression of burnished skybroom; an aged grey square, tiny against the otherwise massive egg, spatters fuzzy color in an indeterminate fashion. The apex of the egg is graced by darkest black, striated in such a fashion to bring to mind... nothing of this world, certainly. >----------------------------------------------------------------------------< As soon as Mara brushes against her, Lorna hastily scoots further down the bench to politely allow for more room. Their loud and bustling entrance actually seems to put the young woman more at ease, particularly considering Rhaelyn's cheerful greeting, and so she is brave enough to respond: "Well, not exactly. Golds tend to come from large gold eggs. Everything else is more unpredictable. A better indicator would be size. A green probably won't come from a big egg, and a bronze probably won't come from a little one." She spreads out her arm, the one that's not holding her mug. "But I am not an expert." Rhaelyn drinks in the information, her gaze growing sharper the more her interest is fanned. Mara sniffs indelicately until a jab from one of Rhae's elbows makes the girl squeak. "See there Mara, you must let the weyr-folk tell us the way it is." Rhaelyn is all smiles, sharp and eager as they might be. "So, I'm Rhae, this is Mara and Thern. Why is it so quiet in here? Are people afraid she won't....oh look! A brown egg." The middle girl claps her hands once, pressing knuckles to her chin. Lorna smiles slightly and scratches her head, looking a tad embarrassed. "Well, I'm not really weyrfolk. I am now, I suppose, but I grew up in a Hold. So a born and bred Weyr person might be able to inform the three of you better." The cook points to where K'del has temporarily headed off to. "That man is the Weyrleader, so he would be much more knowledgeable than I." She bobs her head politely as each of the three girls is introduced, and she tosses her own name into the ring: "Lorna." When the latest egg is mentioned, she switches her gaze back out to the sands. "Huh. Lots of dark-coloured eggs so far. It's about the right size for a brown dragon, I think, so who knows--maybe its inhabitant will indeed match the shell." From the sands, >---< Nothing To See Here Egg >----------------------------------------------< This egg seems innocuous enough; it's on the smaller side and easily hidden amongst its clutchmates. Only one colour coats its surface: a metallic black. Its one distinguishing feature is its vaguely reflective sheen, which glistens with the colours of whichever eggs are closest to it. Some spots appear darker than others, giving the illusion of poorly defined shapes. But there's nothing really discernable there. Right? >----------------------------------------------------------------------------< A trio of disapointment fixes on Lorna, having the bad luck to be the guide in this egg clutching business, "Oh, that's disapointing." Rhaelyn says quietly, giving a slight nudge to Mara who smirks over at the girl. Rhae speaks again though, "I have been reading quite a bit about it, but I wasn't prepared for it to look like this." All natural and sticky and...she shudders slightly. "Anyway--you are from a Hold? What Hold?" By the time K'del comes back, his expression is stony, the enthusiasm and joy of earlier distinctly hampered by - something, anyway. He climbs up the steps from the sands, wiping grains off his trousers and shirt, giving the group of girls a wary glance. Unfortunately, all his hides are still there, so, solidly, he makes his way back towards them. Lorna keeps a polite smile planted on her face despite the girls' obvious disappointment. "Reading, eh? That's good. I always mean to get over to the records more. There's so much to learn, but also so much to be done." She nods respectfully towards K'del when he returns, his stony expression sending her back into a wary state. She attempts to shift away from his hides, but she's a bit caught between them and Mara. The best option would probably be to hand them to him, but her refound awkwardness prevents her; instead, she just sticks her arms out towards them without actually touching them. To distract herself from this situation, she responds to Rhaelyn. "Yes. Misty Hold. It's a small one, near Tillek. Not everyone has heard of it." Rhaelyn shakes her head, an indicating that the location isn't one she's familiar with and some additional disapointment for some odd reason. "I see. It must not be as fine as this place if you left it behind hhmm?" Mara snickers quietly at the heels of Rhae's comment. Looking up, there's a smile for the Weyrleader and watchfulness as Lorna gets awkward, "Did we take your spot?" "Hm?" A pause from K'del, and then, "Oh, no, not at all. It's fine. I just need to collect--" His hides. He attempts a brighter smile, succeeding only partially as he glances between the group of girls. "That's the last one, I think," he adds to them then, with a glance back towards the sands, where an exhausted Iovniath is settling down amidst her clutch, whilst Cadejoth piles sand around that very last egg. "If you'll excuse me? I'll just take these and get going. Need to get ready for the feast, right?" So he'll squeeze past to gather up those hides, and then, once they're safely in his arms, climb over the benches in order to head for the exit. |
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