Logs:In The Candidate Quarters
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| RL Date: 1 June, 2012 |
| Who: Azaylia, Brieli, Damaris, Lirienne, Quinlys |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: The eggs are hatching, the eggs are hatching! |
| Where: Candidate Quarters, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 8, Month 12, Turn 28 (Interval 10) |
| Suddenly, out of nowhere, the humming begins. First it's just one draconic voice, and then another - within seconds, the whole weyr is filled with it, the sound reverberating, bouncing off stone walls and carrying deep, deep into the darkest caverns. It's impossible to miss what this might mean: it's time. It's hatching time. Azaylia bursts into the room, clinging to the frame and looking as if her legs can't support her. Hair clings to her forehead, the candidate drenched with sweat that may or may not have to do with the impending hatching. Her eyes go wide with realization, launching herself towards the robe she's laid out on her cot. Modesty is forgotten as she yanks it over her head, hands flying up to try and gather all of the hair that's recently escaped- a messy bun will have to do! And shoes! Aaah! And yet, she hasn't made a single sound. It doesn't take long after that humming begins before Quinlys, jogging, bursts through into the Candidate Quarters. At least she's prepared - hair pulled back tightly, her light clothes (never mind the snowstorm outside) more or less tidy. The youngest and newest of Meara's staff hovers around the doorway, raising her voice in order to say, "You know what that sound is! Or - if you don't, I guess you do now? Come on, everyone. Robes on, hair back, and let's get onto those sands before the hatchlings go lonely." A quick smile is aimed at one candidate in particular: her sister, equally red-haired, an eighteen-turn-old girl named Arysanne. Lirienne is at her cot, fingers moving quickly as she ties back her normally loose hair into a multi-stranded thing. A bite of the lips, then a slight smile is given, before she goes about changing into her Sands outfit, words left unsaid but wide eyes and pale complextion speaking for her. Brieli has been haunting the living cavern, doing her best to make herself busy and burn off any nervous energy with work - and the normally calm candidate does seem nervous as she strides into the quarter with a purpose just after Quinlys. She too has her robe laid out on her cot, sandals neatly set on the floor next to it, and she starts to get ready, throwing the loose robe over herself before taking her clothes off under it. Modesty isn't totally forgotten for at least one hold-bred girl. She's been sprawled out on her cot in here for a while, now; whatever it was she'd been doing before was finished quickly so that Damaris could be in here and in position to be reasonably relaxed about getting ready. Her hair is already up and her clothes are exchanged for robes pretty swiftly, after that sound starts. The little blonde is certainly tense, but she is at least managing to keep it all contained. Hair is checked one last time before she's slinking for Quinlys and the soon to gather group. Please ignore that she's fidgeting. She's doing her best to do so. "It's all going to be fine," reassures the bluerider, aiming smiles more broadly now that sisterly duties have been completed. "Just keep sharp, and don't do anything stupid, and everything will be fine. Good luck!" As the group begins to assemble around her, she leads the way towards the back of the quarters, where a tapestry covers a door. Using a key from her belt, she unlocks it and pushes it open, and then, waves an arm at the passage that follows. "As soon as you're ready, everyone. Quick smart." Azaylia battles the fly-aways of her hair, brushing them back only to have the straight strands curl to hang in front of her face. Now there's a whimper of desperate frustration, lips funneling up huffs of air at the intrusive locks as she bends to secure her thick-soled shoes. There's no time to try and make things perfect, though a longing glance is spared for Damaris' neat bun as she takes up a spot behind the girl, in front of Quinlys. Then, she's following the bluerider into the passage. Lirienne tucks a bit of loose curl behind one ear, takes a deep breath, then goes to fall into place with all the others. 'It's all going to be fine.' That phrase will be repeating for the next bit of chaos. Repeatedly. Deep breaths. In, and slowlyout... "Your hair is fine," Damaris assures Azaylia softly, reaching over to try and tuck some of the other girl's hair into neatness. She offers a little reassuring smile, and nods her head in agreement with those who note it'll be fine. It's a chorus she echoes, too. Brieli just might be eyeing Quinlys dubiously as she sidles up through the line, securing her hair into a messy bun that somehow works for her, in a weird contrast to Azaylia's flyaways and general harried appearance. She's not even close to composed, chewing her lower lip with an out-of-character anxiousness in her drawn brows and expression. There's a pause as she makes her way next to the former herder - and after that hestiation, she just takes the former herder's hand. |
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