Difference between revisions of "Logs:Visiting the Eggs"

ith the first unscheduled touching done, Tiriana's actually taken a little more time to organize this one, instead of just throwing whatever candidate happens to be handy at the eggs. So, summons go out to one big group of candidates selected at random, to keep the clutch from getting mobbed by everybody piled into the barracks at this point. When the appointed time comes, Tiriana is waiting at the entrance to the sands for them, with a narrow-eyed look as the first start to arrive.

Warucori comes along with the group, bouncing along in her excitement. "Oh, I cannot wait to touch them. Get to see them up close and actually feel them." She babbles to no one in particular. She gives her coat a fluff once under the protection of the galleries and smiles around at the others to see if they are just as eager as she is. "I was afraid they were drawing straws and I'd get left out."

Inviere is among these first, though it's not so much because she's just brimming with enthusiasm. She's at least a few steps in front of Warucori, the look on her face betraying an inner monologue of "This is not happening, this is not happening" -- so even if she has to face Tiriana alone, even if for just a few seconds, it still seems preferable to being stuck with Miss Sunshine back there. She greets the goldrider with a thin line of a smile. "Weyrwoman." Kill... me...

Silarra eyes Waricori's bounciness with a shake of her head and rolling of her eyes. Her hands are tucked down in her pockets as Silarra saunters in. Tiriana does get s quick smile though as she walks up to the group, managing to move over to the complete other side of the cluster from Inviere in the process.

Gabrion tags along behind the other candidates, grinning broadly. His second egg-touching in four days is no less exciting than his first, apparently. As the group gathers up in the hatching grounds, he, too, gives Inviere a wide birth. "Hi, Silarra," he greets his cousin cheerfully. "How's stuff?"

Ivana turns to look out at the sands as she climbs the stairs, then up at the galleries. The amount of space in here and the welcome heat keep her mostly quiet, but as she looks around Cori's enthusiasm makes her grin a little. "Pretty amazing," she says frankly, and then jostles for room in a space that's getting smaller by the moment.

Teris probably debated this before deciding to come but she's here so her decision is rather obvious. She doesn't bother being near the head of the group, at least, off to the side even a bit so she's not particularly close to anyone at all. Her attention settles on Tiriana but her expression is neutral for the time being.

Tiriana tries not to look too greenish when she sees who all's turning up for the touching. Her sigh's resigned to it, though, as she steps forward to meet the candidates. "You run, you yell, you screw this up in any way whatsoever, and there will be pieces of you in the sand to match all the eggshells," she states flatly. And then, with no further preamble, she turns and leads the way onto the sands, where Iovniath awaits, all her clutch arrayed before her--except for the gold, which is carefully protected between her forepaws.

Warucori smiles from ear to ear, looking at the serious candidates and it steadies her a little. As heat rises in her cheeks she tucks her hands into her pockets. She curtsies at the Weyrwoman, and almost topples over at her warning. Luckily she just bounces off one of the young men who's there with the group. Mumbling an apology she lags behind the others, hunching her shoulders a little to try to shrink into the crowd. "scary."

In response to this, Inviere clears her throat and brushes some invisible stuff from her thighs, wrists flicking her hands outward in short, girlish bursts of motion. Following Tiriana, she adopts a languid, bored sort of stride -- though if she were /really/ so disinterested, perhaps her head might not be swiveling quite so much.

You head down a short set of stairs to the hatching sands.

Hatching Sands, High Reaches Weyr

    Whether one enters from the main bowl entrance or one of the smaller tunnels at the back of the cavern, golden-brown sand glitters and swelters in every direction. Close inspection reveals that while the large egg pieces have been gathered up, small fragments remain mixed into the hot sand, record of a thousand hatchings. The main source of light is a huge window of sky high in the wall that also serves as an aerial entrance, its overhang just deep enough to admit light and cooler air but fend off harsher weather.
    The sands' setting designs them to be the focus of the vast amphitheater, with tiers upon tiers of galleries rising up its southwestern side near the tunnel to the bowl, and rings of dragon ledges higher yet: heat and architecture combining into what can be a palpable sense of pressure.

Contents: Iovniath

Obvious exits: [Ledges] [Sky] [Off sands] [weyrleaders] Galleries

From the galleries, Ivana watches the Weyrwoman go by her, and starts bouncing a little herself before she realizes she's doing it. She shakes her hands out in front of her and then steeples them together, flexing her palms outward. *CRACKLE* go her knuckles as several of the joints pop. The group starts moving, and Ivana just goes with it.

From the galleries, Silarra gives her cousin a smile. "I had old people duty today. Didn't even poke any of them with one of those knitting things. That's good right?" She'll jokes before adding, "How's stuff with you? Done this before?" She'll follow the group down onto the sands, but she's not rushing out for an egg yet.

From the ledges, P'ax rolls his eyes, sighing exasperatedly. "I meant, when did you start drinking /again./ Thought you'd quit." He notices Z'yi moving and clears his throat. "Probably a good idea, that. She's going to bite him." At least he gave fair warning. Yyth makes the hop across from one ledge to the other, stalks towards the blue, all non-threatening like. Right.

From the ledges, "This could get bloody." Z'yi doesn't seem to be concerned about it, though. That's what dragonhealers are for, right? "Hell if I know." About alcohol. Raith lifts his head as Yyth moves towards him, then that big wedge-shaped head is moving as he sees /movement/ down below. « You should try one of them as an appetizer, » he comments.

Teris maintains a certain air of disinterest but like everything else about her at times, it's difficult to tell whether or not it's entirely sincere. She follows after Tiriana and the rest of the group when they head out onto the sands, eyes flickering toward the dragon briefly and then toward the assortment of eggs that are already a fairly familiar sight.

"Just the once, a few days ago," Gabe says to Silarra. "I touched that egg, and that one, and that one." He points to each in turn. "I helped Syef on rounds most of the day, and then I had my stupid spelling lesson." He makes a face.

From the ledges, "Seems ironic that you'd keep him from chasing her to protect his hide only to let her bite him deliberately," points out P'ax. "Well. Anyway." He's not stopping it, indeed, dragonhealers. "You've been..okay?" « None of them are annoying, » replies Yyth, stopping when she stands over him and looking him over like she's trying to decide the proper place to strike.

With a gasp, the curly-haired candidate steps onto the sands, amazement at the change of temperture against her feet. Warucori hangs back with a few of the other candidates but is close enough to Gabrion to hear him and she looks to where he is pointing, "ooohh...all those are...the ones you like?"

From the ledges, "Maybe I don't want to have to have rough, crazy sex with you?" Evidently Z'yi has a lot of faith in Raith. Ahem. Isforaith keeps his focus on the candidates below, and aims a thwap with one too-big wing at Yyth's shoulder.

No sooner is the heat barbecuing her boots than Inviere the Genius is piping up, "How come she's doing that?" She thrusts her pointy little chin at Iovniath. "Why can't we touch the gold one?" Her foot crunches an egg shell into itty bits. Perhaps, in a moment, her bones will make the same sound as Iovniath crushes her body into red wet paste.

Silarra nods over to Gabe. "Are you going to touch the same ones? Or others?" She asks, moving towards an egg and reaching out with one finger to touch it, as if it might be a trap that's going to clamp down on her finger. "Maybe because she doesn't want YOU anywhere near it." Silarra says over to Inviere, it's not a yelling tone yet though. Just snarky.

"Others, I guess. I dunno," Gabe says to Silarra. "From what the weyrwoman was saying last night, it doesn't matter. She said that Iovniath says that the dragons know we're here, but like, they've already picked who they'll impress to, or something. I dunno, it was kind of confusing."

From the ledges, "What about perfectly normal vanilla sex?" inquires P'ax, never one to give up easy. Yyth turns and snaps at that whapping wing, snarling playfully.

Gabrion adds, to Warucori, "I like 'em all, I guess? But that one is pretty neat." He points at the Morning After Egg.

Inviere dignifies Silarra's snark with a response: a sideways sliding of eyes. "I don't see you prying her claws off it either, Miss Bravery," she drips. "But by all means, show us how it's done."

Ivana ends up close to Inviere on the sands, with the boy who seems to follow Cori around on her other side. Voices from high up pull her gaze upwards for a moment, but then she starts to feel the heat even through her boots, and starts to rock from foot to foot. Surprise flashes across her face - yup, there's a reason do this - and then thankfulness, for she'd been warned.. and then she stares at Inviere's foot crunching the shells and up to her face. "Heya," Ivana calls pointedly to Inviere, then waits to see if she hears.

"Because Iovniath will damn well kill you," says Tiriana, with a creepy smile for Inviere. "So go on, please, by all means. Anybody else want to join her?" A baleful look's shot around, and while they say dragons won't hurt anybody, Iovniath is certainly looking edgy enough already, with so many moving around her eggs. Tiriana moves over to her side, resting one hand against the golden hide to settle the dam.

From the ledges, "How about perfectly normal vanilla conversation?" Z'yi replies, oh-so-charmingly. "Unless you have a hot sister hidden away somewhere." He's serious about this girl thing, evidently. Isforaith jerks his wing back, overcompensates a bit, wobbles on his already-flopped-out position. Head ducks, teeth snapping with a chomp-chomp-chomping air towards her nearest paw.

Silarra snorts. "Why would I want to touch the gold egg? Golds bring paperwork and headaches and time stuck on the sands. No thanks." She says evenly before considering Gabe. "So what's the real purpose of this then? If they already know who they want? So we can assage our curiousity and see what they actually feel like?" She runs her hand lightly over the dark lines on the parchment colored egg she's near.

Teris listens to the other candidates more than she joins in along with their various conversations and banter. She moves to a nearby egg that hasn't already been mobbed by others to light her fingertips over its surface. Teris doesn't look terribly concerned about the gold murdering any of them but that doesn't really say who she has faith in to behave themselves exactly.

Inviere does not entirely accept this. "If it's the most important one," she reasons coolly, "you'd think she'd have more invested in it being... exposed, or whatever." But even her ego isn't impervious to teeth and talons, both of which -- she is sure -- Iovniath has in spades. So she simmers down, sidling over to Improbably Green. On the way, she is met by Ivana, who she regards with some surprise. "...hello."

"Something like that. I dunno," Gabe says, and shrugs. "It doesn't really make sense to me, it's probably just one of those dumb things old people come up with, or something." Still, he reaches out to stroke the egg they're standing in front of. "The shells do feel kind of neat, though."

Warucori's shadow, that'd be Trahalor and he grins lazily to Ivana while Cori seems even more tightly strung now. "K-kill us?" Her eyes round and she looks over at the others to see if they are going to give it a try. Trahalor just chuckles and gives the girl a little nudge forward as though that might get her moving to at least touch one of the eggs. "I--don't understand. SHould we be out here if she's so angry?"

To Iovniath, Isforaith is a slow fluid churning of bitter-sweet beer, like a bad night of drinking just starting to act up. « If you need me to take any of them out for you, I've got a perfect shot at most of them. » Overconfidence oozes.

To Isforaith, Iovniath's white is a little frayed around the edges, snow swept this way and that through her mind. Still, the gratitude's apparent in her touch, and she says, « Thank you, Isforaith. »

The reply to this is nonverbal, a clumsy tidying of Iovniath's snows. Shoveled here, snowflakes herded over there, soft white tossed in errant groups to try to simulate the gold's typical serene mindscape. (Isforaith to Iovniath)

Ivana gives Trahalor a rather uncertain smile back, and then her eyes are flickering back to Inviere's face as she steps up to the closest egg to the green one. There's a certain satisfaction in being recognized; Ivana's got it, but there's a little surprise in it, as if she weren't sure the recognition was going to happen. "Y'like green too?" she asks. An utterly innocent question, but her sincere brown eyes say a lot more.

"She won't be angry, if you don't do anything stupid," says Tiriana, settling into a place seated on Iovniath's forepaw. "If you do--well. Actually, she won't have to, probably." She points a finger upward at the ledges. "She's got Isforaith up there watching for us, except Faranth knows he doesn't aim so well, so... you might not want to be standing next to anybody causing trouble, either," she finishes with a smirk.

All the efforts make Iovniath issue her sparkly laugh, tension eased less by the efforts than their sheer ridiculousness. But all the snow collects back up in deep drifts that pile around Isforaith in bemusement, snowing him under. (Iovniath to Isforaith)

In general, or as pertaining to dragons? Whichever. Inviere's not sure, but she goes ahead with that slow, baffled voice, "...sure, I guess. Looks good on me, anyway." Her fingers splay over the narrow, rounded apex of the egg, and her eyes alternately narrow and widen as she considers the texture. "...interesting." Her eyes flick up to find Ivana's face, revealing some measure of polite, distracted half-interest. "You?"

Silarra tilts her head back to look up to Isforaith at Tiriana's words. She doesn't look worried though. Intead she takes her hand from the egg to wave up. "True. Gah. After spending all day with them I don't even want to think about old people now. They don't make sense." Silarra decides, ducking down to run her hand curiously through the sand. "This is hot."

There's a soft smack sound as Warucori bats at Trahalor's hand and she hisses, "stop that." With a shamed expression the girl takes a few steps away, fixing her attention one one of the eggs in the middle of a small grouping, running her palm over the side of it after a few uncertain movements. "Oooh...not as warm as I expected." She touches the one next to it, checking that it matches. "They're so big." someone behind her laughs, "I just mean, bigger than I expected."

From the ledges, Isforaith is up here, oh yeah. He may even look threatening, cast into shadows with only werelight dancing on the rune-dusted expanse of his folded wings, slightly orange-swirled eyes.

To Iovniath, Isforaith is stupidly pleased with this, and dances in the snow piled around him. Was that a snowball, thrown towards Iovniath? More like a snow boulder. What's a snow version of 'FORZARE!'?

Gabrion laughs, but he's nodding in agreement with Silarra. "I know, it's like your brain starts turning to mush the second you turn eighteen, or something." Hearing what sounds like a smack, he looks around and peers at Warucori, puzzled.

The mention of that particular blue draws Teris' gaze upwards toward the ledges but only for a few, narrow-eyed moments. Soon enough she's back to paying some semblance of attention to the eggs, of which she moves onto another before casting a glance toward the Weyrwoman. Whatever the glance is for, though, isn't very well conveyed and it doesn't linger.

Ivana nods quickly in response to Inviere's question with a silly little grin on her face, unabashedly delighted at the experience of doing this. Her egg has several colors on it as if someone were shining a light through glass. She starts and stops several sentences, trying to find the right thing to say now that she has made a connection. Finally she shrugs, implying that this experience is overwhelming her a little, and just smiles big at Inviere. Hey friend, the smile says. Isn't this great?

Inviere follows everyone else's collective lifted gaze, though she doesn't look too impressed with those still-distant orange orbs. Hard to be properly menaced by something so far away. Still, if she was brewing any other insubordinate remarks, she bites them back in favor of continued egg-caressing. A second hand joins the first, palming gentle circles over the shell; and while the look she gives Ivana is initially one of puzzlement -- uh, okay there, weirdo -- a few additional seconds sees a more genuine smile. Yeah, sure. Awesome.

Warucori doesn't think much of the mention of the other dragon keeping watch, until several candidates lift their heads and look towards the spot where the dragon is perched. She looks up too, "what does that mean?" And then a frown, "is it because we have convicts as candidates?" She hovers over the egg a little more, as though she could protect it from harm.

Silarra straightens back up to move on to another close egg. "Yeah. I know. And by the time they hit twenty? How do they even remember anything?" Silarra's tone is joking as she reaches out to run just the tips of her fingers over the eggs. "I hear they're all claws and teeth when they hatch. Like they want blood."

While Isforaith guards and Iovniath hovers over her golden egg, Tiriana gets up and starts to pace among the eggs and candidates herself. "Start wrapping it up, kids," she tells them. "We have other things to do today, and don't you have chores to go work on, too?"

Gabrion snorts. "I know, right?" he says, and rolls his eyes. Old people! When Silarra asks about hatchlings, though, he's happy to hold forth like an expert. "Yeah, but it's not like they're going to eat people. They're just hungry because they've been in that egg all that time. You just have to not get in the way if you're not the one they're after, you know? Otherwise they'll stop you on their way to their rider. They're kind of impatient."

Inviere hasn't exactly been experiencing the full variety of the Sands, here, and as Tiriana calls for a wrap-up, she excuses herself from Ivana for a larger egg some distance away. Her fingers brush a few others as she passes, and she deliberately lingers by the one Silarra is currently favoring -- just for a second, mind, long enough to give her a big smile -- before settling on her new choice. Her attention, of course, is still sporadically on the Big Shiny, and her eyes have no love for Tiriana.

Silarra wrinkles her nose and makes a little face at Inviere when the other woman smiles at her before she nods over to Gabe. "I'll have to remember that when it actually gets to that point. Don't get in the way if you don't want to be bloody. Right."

Warucori gives the gold egg another long long look, but her coward-spirit isn't fortified enough to risk it. She draws her hand back from the egg, dusting her hands together gingerly. She wanders closer to Gabrion and Silarra with a small smile, "What's wrong with old people? THey can be so sweet."

Ivana moves to another egg too, sharing for a moment with the youngest candidate who's all eyes. He stays for only a few moments but Ivana admires the cool blue tone and listens in on Gabrion's expertise. "Jus' like us before dinner," she calls over, joking around a little. Tiriana's announcement makes her sigh. It's incredible how difficult it is to get rock dust out of your hair... but she leans over to caress the green egg for a moment too as if for luck.

Wrapping it up is definitely something Teris can do. She might even seem a little eager to do so as she breaks away from her current egg and starts wandering back toward the galleries without much of a word or glance to anyone. Maybe she'd just rather be doing those chores that Tiriana mentioned.

When they all make their last round of touching, Tiriana points toward the door, and starts leading the way there herself to escort them out. "We'll have more later on, to make sure the rest of them get out here, but that's enough for now. Now, scram," she ushered them toward the galleries again, to go or linger there as they will. And Iovniath, by tiny degrees, starts looking a little more relaxed as they leave her eggs behind.

Gabrion laughs at Ivana. "Pretty much, except we don't have as sharp of claws and teeth," he says. He reaches over and swats Silarra playfully on the arm, just because, and trots off the sands.

From the galleries, Warucori hurries up the last few steps and scoots over to make room for others coming up off the sands. She shrugs out of her coat, chewing at her lower lip. "I wonder just how upset the dragons get when the eggs start breaking open and the babies leave the sire and dam. My goodness."

From the galleries, Silarra gives Tiriana another quick smile before she heads off after Gabe. "Hey! I'm going to get you for that!" She calls playfully. Someone is actually in a pretty good mood.