Logs:Quinlys Rouses The Candidates
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| RL Date: 15 March, 2013 |
| Who: Alida, Ceawlin, Kaeden, Nicky, Quinlys, Tiziano, Wakizian, Xhaeon |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Quinlys gets the candidates ready for the hatching. |
| Where: Candidate Quarters, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 1, Month 4, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
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| Candidate Quarters, High Reaches Weyr Two caverns lead one right into the other from a hallway just off the Common Room. Taking advantage of the high, vaulted ceiling, bunk beds march in five neat rows of five beds each allowing up to fifty people to sleep in one cavern, although one of those caverns is presently largely closed off. Functional and spartan in atmosphere, there's little in the way of decoration here, just the one tapestry depicting a hatching on the wall of the first cavern and eggs on the sands in the second. Each bunk is made up when there are candidates in residence, with standard sheeting, gray woollen blankets and somewhat lumpy pillows. A trunk stands at both the head and foot of the bunks, providing a little space for the occupants to store their belongings while the wait for the eggs to hatch. The archway between the two spaces is covered over with a hide hanging, easily hooked back when both caverns are in use, but tacked into place when only the first is needed. A proper wooden door closes out noise and drafts from the hallway. There's not yet been any humming, but evidently that's not the only sign the Weyr is waiting on, because in marches Quinlys, managing to look quite as though pre-dawn wakeup calls are her speciality, and not a cruel, sick joke at all. She has a glow in hand, lifted up towards her chin, the green light giving her an eerie glow. And: "Everyone up!" It's loud. It's pre-dawn. She's perfectly okay with this. "We've got signs of movement, and there's no use having movement without Candidates. Up, up, up. Robes on." Listen, Xhaeon has been dreaming about being woken up by Quinlys, right? But not like this. Glug-glug-glurk, "Whuzzu--" Groggy head raises from his bed, and belatedly he's scrambling. Does he sleep in the nude? Apparently. Some poor kid just got an EYEFUL. 'Cause ... dreams of Quinlys waking him up, right? Woah. Pre-dawn? Butt-crack of dawn? Ceawlin pushes the blankets from away from his face and stumbles out of the cot. Grumble, grumble -- Wait. "It's time?" Tenor is roughened with sleep, though the jolt of it being time has sent enough adrenaline through his veins to get feet moving more quickly to get himself robed appropriately. "Oh /Faranth/, Smith, really?" If looks could shrivel... "Dude, really?" Ugh! Tiziano has been on edge as each day passes since the call went out the the eggs could go at any minute. Even in his sleep, the lad is jittery. The Quinlys shouts he's up almost instantly, only half-awake but on his feet. Blankets are pool at his feet and he's flailing his arms around. "Wha'? Za-wha? Movement?" It takes a few minutes for the sleep cobwebs to clear and Tiziano to put two and two together. He slumps back onto his bed a moment, hands rubbing his face vigorously. "S'time? Already?!" His voice takes on a squeaky quality as he rummages for his robe and gets dressed. "FaranthFaranthFaranthFaranthFaranth." Cue hyperventilation. Nicky isn't actually in the 'quarters to hear Quinlys shouting, but he arrives mere minutes later, panting, flushed, having clearly just run in from... somewhere? He looks sleep-rumpled and winds his way down the cots to his own, grabbing at the robe that's been so conveniently left out. No time even for his holderly shyness - probably no place for it, since he looks panicked - and he's dressed in the simple white sheath. He then hops about, trying to put on his sandals... before realising that it's probably just easier to sit down on the bed to do it. It's sudden, but once it starts, Hraedhyth's gutteral hum can be felt in the minds of her tribe. Their tribe. It's a joyful sound tainted only by the Dam's need to protect, her strength felt in every drumbeat. It's time. (Hraedhyth to all High Reaches dragons) It's not yet light when the chorus of dragons take up their song: first just a handful of hums, and then steadily more until it's every dragon (or close enough to), voices of all timbres and in every range. It's audible even deep within the bowels of the Weyr, where sound bounces off one stone wall to another, ever increasing in intensity. For those who have never heard such a thing, perhaps it's terrifying-- but for everyone else, it can mean only one thing: it's time. Olveraeth> It's not yet light when the chorus of dragons take up their song: first just a handful of hums, and then steadily more until it's every dragon (or close enough to), voices of all timbres and in every range. It's audible even deep within the bowels of the Weyr, where sound bounces off one stone wall to another, ever increasing in intensity. For those who have never heard such a thing, perhaps it's terrifying-- but for everyone else, it can mean only one thing: it's time. Quinlys hovers just inside the door, arms crossed in front of her, watching with amusement that she makes no attempt to hide, as the candidates rouse themselves. The sudden commencement of the humming only broadens her smile-- she is far too cheerful for this early in the morning!-- and gets promptly followed by, "That's it, guys. That's your signal. Hurry, or you'll miss them!" There probably isn't any real fear of that, but it seems to make her smile. A moment later, she's drawing away from her position near the door, meandering the aisles quite as if she has all the time in the world. To all High Reaches dragons, Iesaryth's attention has not been as much on the eggs as the other dam, so the water's roar shifts into a hum moments after the drumbeats are underscored by it; she doesn't need to protect - she wants them to come out. Out, out and be DRAGONS already, GOD. Please don't keep them IN THERE, Hraedhyth. Wakizian arrives at a quick trot, dodging bodies as he makes his way to his cot, throwing open the chest at its foot. He's stripping down and dressing up: Lady Smith in the flesh. Well, okay, so it's a regular hatching robe, but it looks kinda like a dress, doesn't it? Sandals are donned quickly and then eyes are searching for Nicky. "Nick! Ready?" Xhaeon scrambles; robe on, scowl to the Harper, and a sudden wide-eyed look about for the hum that shakes the very foundation. Sandals, check, robe, check: he scruffs a hand over his face, vainly over his hair, and trying to straighten himself as bleary-eyed as he is. Hot on Waki's heels sprints Alida, her slightly puffy green eyes narrowed in concentration, her adrenaline once more spiked. It's indecent to be this chipper this early in the morning. Ceawlin does not wake up on the 'bright-eyed and bushy-tailed' side of the cot this early -- but-crack of dawn -- though he's smart enough not to cast glares at the Weyrlingmaster. That would be a BadPlan. So Ceawlin steps it up and lines up, ready to go. Maybe sneaking glances at the others, curious to the various reactions. Until the humming starts; that is enough to startle the unflappable Ceawlin. Blue eyes widen and sharp features slacken a bit in... shock? Some emotion for sure. Tiziano is looking rather disheveled, but ready none the less. The candidate makes his way over by his BFF -- Ceawlin -- and grabs ahold of the guy's hand. Before letting go almost immediately. Holding hands is very unmanly. But he sticks to the harper-candidate like stink on a trundlebug. Cliiiiing. Nicky eyes Waki when he, too, comes in from outside, finally fixing the laststrap of his sandle into place. And Alida comes in after Waki? Thoughts and assumptionskick into motion but are quickly dismissed, as the farrier-cum-candidate gets to his feet, tests his new footwear, and looks in wide-eyed panic at his buddy. "N-no," is his head-shaking response to the question, but he grabs hold of Waki's wrist and pulls him towards Alida's cot, giving the girl plenty of space as she changes - it wouldn't do to get maimed now', would it? Quinlys's aisle-wandering comes to an abrupt stop as she ends up at the back of the barracks, pulling aside a tapestry that has been covering a sturdy door for all this time: surprise! She unlocks it with a key from her belt, then steps back, indicating the passageway with one hand: "On you go. Pay attention, keep moving, and don't do anything stupid, okay?" Alida is also tearing off her old clothing, jerking and yanking on a mid-thigh length white robe. Into her lockable press goes knives and all other shit about her, only her hair put up. |
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