Logs:Of Jealousy
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| RL Date: 12 November, 2006 |
| Who: Dassah, Kasiese, R'hin, Tavrie |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| When: Day 26, Month 10, Turn 9 (Interval 10) |
| Your location's current time: 17:17 on day 26, month 10, Turn 59, of the Tenth Pass. It is a autumn afternoon. You stroll into the candidate barracks. Candidate Barracks(#430RAJs$) This is a large, high ceilinged cavern cut from the rock. There are rows of depressions on the floor, couches for the young dragons who will soon live here. For now, cots have temporarily been brought in for the candidates while they bide their time, waiting for the exciting day when the eggs will hatch. Men keep to one side and women to the other. At the foot of each cot lies a small press for storing clothing and other small items. The cavern has been decorated with old dragon tapestries hung on the walls, their colors slightly faded. A threadbare rug in the middle of the room bears the emblem of High Reaches Weyr, a mountain range in black on a dark blue field. A few low tables, chairs, and pillows have been scattered about the room, and baskets of glows placed strategically throughout the room keep the place well-lit. An opening in the southwest leads out into the Bowl. Contents: Dassah Tavrie Important Questions for Candidates- READ ME! Candidate Cots Gruvfeath Firelizard Perch(#8812JSae$) Obvious exits: Weyrling Training Room Bowl It'd probably be easy to miss R'hin's entrance, casual as he is about it; the Weyrleader strides in, eyes flickering over the various cots, lips twitching. He's looking casual today, with loose linen shirt and pants to match, dressed for the heat. A faint clearing of throat, and his voice rises, "Good afternoon, candidates." On her cot, Dassah is studiously mending a tear in the trousers she wears when doing jobs a skirt wuld be inappropriate for. A jagged tear where the leg caught on a nail is slowly but surely being put to rights. As the Weyrleader enters and speaks, she looks over at him and respectfully stands, giving him her attention. "Sir." R'hin's pale eyes settle on Dassah, noting the sewing with a tip of head. "Hard at work, I see." It's difficult to tell if the tone is approving or not, given the wry expression that accompanies it. "You're between chores? At loose ends? Hm. Something must be done about that." His nod takes in a few of the other candidates, as well. Tavrie, looks up from studying a hide in a dreamy fashion, apparently she was daydreaming more than learning. She snaps to attention when the figure seems to settle in her gaze and pops off her cot like a cork from a wine bottle. She stands up straight and fixes R'hin with an enormous grin for a moment, before suddenly seeming to rethink this and eyeing him with uncertainty and skepticism. "Always, sir." is Dassah's response to the comment. "And between chores, yes. I'm planning more cleaning in a short while, maybe in the lost weyr, , once I am done this." She inclines her head, "Unless you have something you need done, sir?" "I do." R'hin answers Dassah's comment, but he's studying Tavrie with a purse of lips, before his gaze travels over the scattering of candidates present. "The eggs harden with alacrity, and I'd like you all to become more familiar with them, before they hatch. We want no mishaps like at Fort's last hatching. Those that don't have assigned chores may come with me onto the sands." Tavrie purses her lips right back at him and furrows her brow in defience of his studious look, yes she caught it. The young woman turns her nose up ever so slightly, steeling herself for something and then quickly, she melts again and gives a more nervous smile. "Familiar? With the eggs?" she dares query very softly. Dassah's expression grows noticibly warmer as he explains his intentions. "I have no assigned chores, Sir, and it would be my honor to accompany you. I admit I've been a little curious since the first group was sent out..." She looks to Tavrie, almost hopefully. "We both can go, right?" "Familiar," R'hin repeats, "You may walk amongst the eggs, touch them, get to know them - and let them get to know you. There are, after all, dragons inside that may choose to Impress to some of you." His hands fold behind his back. "So long as you do not make any sudden moves, Lhiannonth and Leiventh will tolerate your presence. If I tell you it's time to leave the sands, you'll do so immediately. Any questions?" A beat, as Dassah's query earns a twitch of brows. "Of course. Inform your fellow candidates. I suggest changing into lightweight clothing, and thick shoes. I will be waiting for you in the galleries." With another tip of head, he turns and heads back through the door to the bowl. You stroll out to the bowl. You wander towards the western side of the bowl. You stride through the tunnel, emerging in an enormous cavern. You walk up a short flight of steps into the galleries. In the Galleries of the High Reaches Weyr Hatching Grounds(#510RJQas$) Tiers of stone carved benches rise uniformly above the hatching sands, set against both the southern and western walls of the enormous hatching grounds. The warmth radiating from the sands make the cool stone benches a welcome change, especially for sand baked feet. One section of the galleries has been roped off for special spectators, and the seats within have cushions done in the dark blue and black of the Weyr. To the east, the cavern narrows and short flights of steps lead down to the cavern entrance or to the sands themselves. From the galleries, the many dragon ledges are visible, scattered all along the hatching cavern walls. Down on the sands, a generous clutch of eggs is guarded by the broody queen, lovingly turning them as they harden. Curious visitors and weyrfolk finished with the day's tasks come here to view the eggs, and make their own guesses to what lies within them. Firelizards perch on the benches, watching for any excitement on the sands. Contents: VIP Hospitality Table Obvious exits: SAnds Bowl Tavrie strides up into the stands from the entrance to the bowl. Tavrie has arrived. Dassah walks up into the stands from the entrance to the bowl. Dassah has arrived. Kasiese walks up into the stands from the entrance to the bowl. Kasiese has arrived. R'hin's down at the very bottom of the galleries, leaning on the railing, surveying the hatching sands with a distinctly proprietary air that reflects his dragon's; Leiventh is awake, watchful but still over the clutch of hardening eggs. Kasiese is tagging along, looking mildly confused -- one minute, she's walking towards the barracks, debating the best way to scrub redwort out of her pants, the next she's being told to about face and hurry to the hatching sands, with only an explanation of, "C'mon!" Now, as she scales the last steps, already rolling her sleeves up, she wants to know, "What are we doing?" "Touching the eggs." Dassah says to Kasiese, her voice the closest to excited the girl has probably ever hear it. She's hurridly changed her clothing into light clothing that would be more suited to Southern's climate than high reaches, a surprisingly pretty purple affair. It clashes horribly with the thick work boots she's got on her feet, but she doesn't seem to care as she approaches the weyrleader with her companions. "We're here, Sir." Tavrie tags along with Dassah, following just one step behind and still wearing her giddy grin. "Wow! We are really going to go down on the sands," she says, almost in awe. "I don't think anyone in my family has ever been on the sands. I wonder what the eggs will feel like?" she wonders aloud. Tavrie turns and giggles as Kasiese comes up and seems lost. The young woman nods her head when Dassah sums it up, almost more excited by her friend's excitement than the actual event. "Yup! We get to meet the new dragons, well, their eggs," she notes. "You're getting familiar," R'hin rolls that word around with a distinct tinge of amusement, "With the eggs," he says on the heels of Dassah's answer, as he turns to survey the candidates with just as much care as he did the eggs just moments ago. A faint twitch of lips is given at the group's enthusiasm, pale eyes glittering. With a nod, as if crossing off a mental checklist of those present, he steps towards the small entrance that leads down onto the sands. "Follow me." You head down a short flight of steps to the hot sands. High Reaches Weyr Hatching Grounds The sands are stiflingly hot beneath your feet, nearly burning through your footwear and keeping even this large high cavern quite warm. A mound of sand has been gathered up in the center of the cavern, and this is where the queen has laid her eggs and watches lovingly over them as they harden. The sands have been neatly arranged around the many mottled eggs, though the queen is never quite satisfied and frequently turns and repositions each egg. Bordering the sands to the south and west are the tiered benches of the galleries. Ledges for spectating dragons jut out from the cavern walls in every direction high above. A dark passageway leads off the sand towards the senior queen's weyr. Contents: Lhiannonth(#12345Jaep) Leiventh Sandy Mound Obvious exits: Passageway Galleries Dassah comes down a short flight of steps from the galleries. Dassah has arrived. Tavrie comes down a short flight of steps from the galleries. Tavrie has arrived. Kasiese comes down a short flight of steps from the galleries. Kasiese has arrived. Leiventh's posture doesn't shift at all, but he gains a distinct sense of -watchfulness-, whirling eyes staring at the entering candidates intently. He, like Lhiannonth, is slightly back from the clutch, leaving room for the candidates to move around the eggs. R'hin tips his head towards Lhiannonth - greeting, respect or both perhaps - half turning to view the trail of candidates following him as he leads the way out to the middle of the sands. "Move amongst the eggs as you see fit. Remember, no sudden moves, no loud noises, if you please. Lhiannonth's comfortable enough with your presence, and Leiventh will tolerate you." That, it seems, is meant to be reassurance, though perhaps more reassuring is the fact the Weyrleader moves to join the large bronze, a hand touching the dragon's hide as pale eyes turn to watch. Dassah follows the Weyrleader out onto the sands, doing her best to show her normal confident front as she does so. Still, there's a nervuos flick of her eyes towards the large dragons presiding over the eggs, and she is careful to follow his instructions to the letter. A glance over towards Kasiese and Tavrie, and the slightest of smiles at their own uncertainty; at least she isn't alone in it. As they approach the eggs, though, her attention leaves her fellow candidate to focus completely on the eggs. A small and silver egg is close to hand, and so it becomes her first stop amongst the hardening orbs. Still, as she stops by it she truly stops, still uncertain about actually touching. Leiventh> To you, Leiventh's tones swirl with interest, rare for his attention to actually show for humans. It's probably only because they're close to the eggs, and he knows from you they will Impress to his and Lhiannonth's eggs. Kasiese can only say, "Out there?" and point towards the sands before they are walking down. And Kasiese isn't going to be left behind, no sir. Wandering down with them, she stands still for a good minute before looking suspiciously between Dassah and Tavrie, and finally at R'hin and Leiventh, her mouth quirking off to the side and her expression changing to a small smile. Dassah's barely contained enthusiasm earns a whispered, Kasiese can only say, "Out there?" and point towards the sands before they are walking down. And Kasiese isn't going to be left behind, no sir. Wandering down with them, she stands still for a good minute before looking suspiciously between Dassah and Tavrie, and finally at R'hin and Leiventh, her mouth quirking off to the side and her expression changing to a small smile. Dassah's barely contained enthusiasm earns a whispered, "Tell me you're not excited -now-." Then, the young woman is breaking slowly away, tentatively walking towards the eggs, her eyes flicking over this and that, but she's on a path towards the orange streaked egg a bit further away. Now that she is sure there is no cruel trick or dramatic scare involved this time, Tavrie seems to relax. Her easy going nature gives her step bounce, despite the heat, though her movements are slow and collected. As she follows R'hin onto the sands, she mimics his greeting to the queen in her own way. Smiling, she drops a slight curtsey, inclining her head a little toward the dam and sire. "They're lovely up close," she says quietly, breaking away from the group and making her way along the sands, seeming to have a goal in mind. Tavrie wanders right over to the darkest egg in the clutch, grinning despite herself and teaching out with an open hand and tentative fingers to caress its surface. Dassah shoots a look at Kasiese, "Shush." The egg is then focused on, with a deep breath taken before she gives in and reaches out for it. Her fingers find first the smooth, oily red spot, the tips of her figners exploring and touching across it, and then off onto the rougher silve around it. A genuine, happy smile creeps out - likely without her even being aware of it - as she touches. The egg, though, is not one of her favourites and her stay is brief. This time, she looks around for a specific egg - Black and brown, sand and ebony, she moves to one of the darkest eggs with undisguised relish. Although R'hin's hand drops from Leiventh's side, he shifts his weight to lean his shoulder against the bronze, though whether as reassurance for his dragon, or a manifestation of that bond of rider and dragon isn't particularly clear. "You'll find each of them different in subtle ways. Some may pull to you more than others." Pale gaze flickers from one candidate to the next, "I remember being drawn to Leiventh's egg. I can't say if that contributed, but no one knows -what- attracts a dragon." Tavrie's fingers meet with the strangely porous and yet sort of resinous egg. She gives a faint grimace and the hair on her arms stands out. "Wow," is her comment and she takes a step or two backwards, stopping to look at the egg with a mixture of interest and alarm. After a moment, she steps closer to it again, blinking thoughtful and trailing her fingers gently along the middle before laying her palm flat for a moment. Noticing a nearby candidate try pressing an ear to one of the eggs, the nanny follows suit. The look on her face is a priceless conglomeration of disgust and fascination. Whatever she heard sparked a reaction. Once more, she steps back and wraps her arms around her upper body, as if chilled. "Well, I don't think I need to worry. You sound quite alive and active," she tells the egg. "But, be strong anyway, I guess," she gives a weak pep talk and then moves away from the egg. Oddly, she wanders now without touching the other eggs, merely looking at them more carefully. Kasiese spares a quick flash of teeth at Dassah, dragging her fingertips along the tiny -- in comparison to the rest, at least -- egg before finally pressing her whole palm to it, leaning forward, and pressing her ear up to the hardened shell. Her brows drop and nearly meet over her nose, and she pushes back from the egg once more, looking sarcastic as she exhales heavily towards the egg and says, "Right back at you." Dassah kneels down next to the Chaotic Vanguard Egg, and reaches out both hands to touch it. As she and the others around her relax, the atmosphere grows more curious and exploratory. Palms flat on the egg, she seems to be trying to feel more than just the surface of it. "Warm." She says, softly. Then, as she's seen many a Candidate do in the past, she leans in and presses her ear to it, eyes closed as she lets that sense explore it, listening to the seashell-like sound of wind and wave within. "The dragonhealers," R'hin says, blandly, voice carrying across the sands, "Remain confident that all the eggs will hatch, ongoing speculation aside." Pale eyes deliberately settle on Tavrie, briefly, as he says it, before shifting to Dassah, then Kasiese. The sight of some of the candidates crouching down elicits a low chuckle, and a glance upwards at Leiventh, who stares unwavering at the group, intent gaze reflecting slow - and for the moment, calm - shades of blue. Tavrie wanders quietly and calmly amidst the eggs. Her demeanor is relaxed, though there is a rigidity to her spine that gives away the lingering feeling of unease she seems to have drawn from touching the Roiling Nightmare Egg. "I've been telling people that," Tavrie responds to R'hin pleasantly, though her usually smirky smile is absent. Kasiese drawn back from the egg, now, Kasiese will say under her breath, "Bye," before turning to weave again, not touching any of the eggs until she comes to a stop before an egg of crimson, which has her interested enough to tilt her head as she examines it, squinting as she circles it, slowly. "Eeh," is her decision of the eye that she finds staring back at her halfway through, and she hitches up her pantlegs to drop into a crouch, rocking back and forth as she regards it. Her hand is no less tentative this time around, though once her fingertips touch the perfect smoothness of the egg, she easily lays her entire hand on it, though never quite on the gaze staring back at her. Dassah knows too well the temporariness of their time on the sands, and so her stay with the egg is short. Her next choice, theoretically her second favourite, might surprise some. The shocking pink that covers half of it would hardly be consiered normal for the taciturn candidate. Her fingers caress, feeling the beaded surface of the white side, the silk of the pink. And, again, an ear is pressed to it, drawing out an unaccustomed giggle from her. With a low exhale, R'hin glances up at Leiventh, then back over the candidates. "I think we'll wrap this up, soon. Finish up with the eggs you're at, candidates, and head back for the galleries. I've organised to have some juice brought in." With a fond pat to Leiventh's hide, he begins moving slowly over in the direction of the candidates. The relative silence of their perusing has Kasiese slightly shocked when Dassah giggles - she nearly falls right on her rump at the sound, but she saves any sarcastic comments for later as she shuffles awkwardly around the egg, leaning forward again to press her ear tentatively to the surface, only to back away looking slightly confused. After a moment, the healer is leaning forward again, pressing her ear harder against the no-longer frail surface of the Life's Clock Rosette Egg, closing her eyes as one will to focus. Eventually, her head begins to nod a small rhythm to something only she can hear, and even when she pulls away she seems to be trapped in that rhythm - beat, beat, beat... A glance between R'hin and the egg is given with a frown, but Kasiese nods and stands up, leaning towards the egg again and saying, "You've more rhythm than me, pal." Then she's gone, with one more pat to it's surface, hesitant to return to the galleries but doing it nonetheless. Getting eaten by a dragon -- or squished, or even just roared at -- is simply not in the schedule. Dassah stands with obvious reluctance, though her smile is unlikely to fade any time soon. She backs away towards the weyrelader, eyes giving a last glance tot he eggs she passes, her fingers draping voer one as she goes near it. But then they are away from the eggs, and the dragons, and she is looking to see Tavrie and Kasiese's own departures. As she heads off the sands, Tavrie smiles at the egg Dassah had been looking at and then takes a furtive glance back at the Roiling Nightmare. She shivers and then almost seems to hurry a bit more. "I have such odd luck," she comments to no one in particular. The blonde breaks out into her normal grin as she moves back into a safer and more secure area of the weyr for her. Once more, R'hin gives a tip of head to Lhiannonth by way of parting, trailing after the candidates, off the hot sands. You head up a short flight of steps to the galleries. |
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