Difference between revisions of "Clutch:41"

Revision as of 08:16, 21 January 2016

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 '''Search Committee:''' Devaki, K’del, Leova, Lujayn, Taikrin, Tiriana.
-|egg-list={{HRWClutch:32/Eggs}}
+|egg-list='''Burst of Static Egg'''
-|npc-list={{HRWClutch:32/NPCs}}}}
+A curiously hypnotizing pattern of black and white dots covers the shell of this middling-sized egg. The longer one looks, the more the pattern seems to shift, the dots moving about and growing smaller and larger. It must be some kind of optical illusion, or maybe the heat of the sands? Weird.
+Inspiration: Tv snow/static
+'''Credit:''' G’brion
+'''Salt and Burn Egg'''
+Grayish-white ash has half-consumed this egg, a grainy coating along its bottom third. Flakes of white even drift down across the smooth black surface higher up, though ghostly blue flames seem ready to consume as they dance together across the shell.
+Inspiration: Supernatural
+'''Credit:''' Tiriana
+'''Blue Streak Egg'''
+This egg is largely made up of features considered unremarkable: it’s mid-sized, smooth-shelled, and, for the most part, a mottled creamy white color that largely blends into the sands below it. Occasionally, however, Iovniath’s dutiful turning will uncover the egg’s other side, upon which an almost indescribably blue streak has been flung, willy-nilly. The color is eye-catching – lurid, even – and, for some, unsettling: it starts electric at one flailing tip, working brighter still towards the egg’s narrow end, before it fades into white once more.
+Inspiration: The use of swearing in modern television.
+'''Credit:''' K’del
+'''More than Meets The Eye Egg'''
+Sovereign blue rides hard against the contrasting shine of chrome; a mismashed riot of color and texture and… movement? These interconnecting parts, each color so boldly displayed upon the shell of this tiny egg, seem to move and shift and transform dependent upon the angle from which it is viewed, a trick of coloration and perhaps the light. Regardless, despite its size, one thing remains solid about this shifting egg: it is certainly more than meets the eye.
+Inspiration: Transformers. Transformers on your TV. Transformers on your TV /in 3D/. Really, just– Transformers. I mean, does it need any further explanation?
+'''Credit:''' Khorde
+'''Final Frontier Egg'''
+The darkness of this egg, spangled as it is with tiny white specks, calls to mind nothing more than the night sky. But the dots are really too regular, too even in size and coloration, to do anything but vaguely resemble stars, and no midnight sky has ever been that shade of near-perfect black. And there is certainly no analogue in the Pernese sky to the blob of slate-grey shapes – all swooping curves and dramatic lines – that streak across its side. Or /is/ there?!
+Inspiration: The Red Hot Chilli Peppers said it best – ‘Space may be the final frontier, but it was made in a Hollywood basement.’ (Star Trek, obviously).
+'''Credit:''' Taikrin
+'''Spun Sugar Sunshine Egg'''
+Pale and light, the feathery wisps over the shell of this egg lend a bit of puffiness to its unyielding curve. Delicate traces of pastel rainbows spiderweb across the top of the brighter yellows and greens of the shell. It’s a sunny pastoral scene wrapped up in cotton floss, somewhere between delicate and brash, warring spectrums of soft wrapping the bold.
+Inspiration: The glorious Saturday morning cartoon sprees of childhood and the marshmallow-infested cereals that went along with them.
+'''Credit:''' Lujayn
+'''Soap Bubble Egg'''
+It may be no bigger or smaller than most of its clutchmates, and certainly shelled no less thickly, but there’s an undeniably fragile quality to this ethereal, pastel-hued egg. It seems to glisten, somehow, as though coated in fluids that have never dried; it gives the swirls of color a translucent, insubstantial quality, as though it might be possible to see straight through to the dragon within. You can’t, though: there’s nothing but swirls of baby pink, dapples of powder blue, and the occasional waft of soft lemon yellow, curling about the egg’s narrow tip.
+Inspiration: Soap operas.
+'''Credit:''' K’del
+'''Stripes of Color Egg'''
+This egg is one of the largest in the clutch, but even if it weren’t it would still stand out, as it’s encircled by riotous bands of color, almost perfectly parallel. Grey, yellowish, cyan, green, magenta, a deeper red, and blue are the colors, from small end to large, and at the very bottom, where the egg rests in the sand, there’s a black swatch, and it looks like perhaps a bit of white.
+Inspiration: Color bars.
+'''Credit:''' G’brion
+'''Desiccated 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.
+Inspiration: Television rots your brain, you know.
+'''Credit:''' Lujayn
+'''Every Woman’s Opportunity Egg'''
+A gold, in this mottled thing? It’s 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 it’s /too/ gold, /too/ shiny. Too /something/. Only a fool would mistake it for the real thing, right?
+Inspiration: Deadwood, and fool’s gold.
+'''Credit:''' Tiriana
+'''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.
+Inspiration: Old, old, old TVs: the kind that were huge and bulky and blocky and did we mention huge? With fuzzy tiny little pictures and knobs that you had to turn BY HAND. Yeah. That’s a boob tube.
+'''Credit:''' Khorde
+'''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?
+Inspiration: A switched off television screen. They somewhat creepily reflect the room they’re in, and every so often, out of the corner of your eye, there seems to be something else lurking around.
+'''Credit:''' Lorna
+'''Crimson Mystery Egg'''
+The steely surface of this egg is dark and slightly glossy, reminiscent of knife blades and stainless steel. Here and there a spattering of bright red conceals the seam between two lines of dim silver, the color splashed carelessly up and down its shell. Only at the bottom does it solidify into something deeper and more sanguine: a pool of blood to nest this innocent egg that hides whatever might lurk there.
+Inspiration: The medical drama House: sharp things and blood, elements associated with a hospital and any good episode.
+'''Credit:''' Lujayn
+'''Rated MA Egg'''
+It’s white. Nice, plan, pristi–okay, never mind that last one. It looks like something died on it. Violently. The main splatter is on the very top of it, a large red stain that fades to dark mist on one side and dribbles wetly down the other, turning rusty as it dries.
+Inspiration: My favorite kind of shows.
+'''Credit:''' Tiriana
+=Honorable Mentions =
+There were so many spectacular descriptions submitted that the decisions on which were used or not were very difficult. We’d like to honor and thank everyone who submitted a description in our honorable mentions.
+'''Spots and Sparks Egg'''
+Blindingly bright with the power of a lightning strike, the forked platinum markings along this egg have fuzzy, grayed edges that do not settle easily when viewed. The majority of the shell is patterned with a dizzy array of black and ashy specks that blend into one another when not touched by the jagged, hot white streaks.
+Inspiration: Static, the plague of the channel surfer.
+'''Credit:''' Lujayn
+'''Running Forever Egg'''
+A red-toned background shades most of this smaller-than-average egg, complete with a hint of grittiness that is played out upon the texture of the shell. Towards the far curve, half disappearing into the sand, a darker cloud – like dust raised from the desert floor – is visible, following a path that winds around and around through the egg’s contours. Barely visible, a plume of blue can also been seen, almost too subtle to be caught by the naked eye.
+Inspiration: Saturday morning cartoons. Most specifically: Road Runner.
+'''Credit:''' K’del
+'''Testing, Testing Egg'''
+Big and bold defines this egg. It stretches out a long ways lengthwise from tip to tip, and every inch is full of colour. While there is immense variety in its tints–bright pink, yellow, green, blue, and red, mostly–none of the shades leak into each other. Instead, they are crisp bars.
+Inspiration: A television test card.
+'''Credit:''' Lorna
+|npc-list='''Quinlys and blue Olveraeth'''
+With a great /thud/, the darkly shelled Final Frontier Egg rolls over onto one side, giving the dragon inside just enough momentum to push himself free – the very first. Luminously blue, bedecked in stars, the mid-sized hatchling gives the world an expectant, curious glance before lunging off towards the candidates. Though widely considered a top choice for the gold, weyrbred Quinlys shows no regrets as she wraps her arms around him, whispering his name so quietly that only those nearest could know for sure: “Olveraeth.”
+'''Weyrbred girl and ocean-toned green'''
+The Spun Sugar Sunshine egg chips away at itself, finally ripping with the help of pale talons to reveal a dainty, ocean-toned green. She warbles in surprise at the sudden exposure to light and even more heat, stumbling over dripping wings and her clumsy feet alike, all but panicked. Her progress is erratic and clearly frightened, barreling through a close-knit group of candidates with no attention to the cries of surprise and perhaps pain that follow in her wake. She halts yet again with plaintive cries, tail thrashing and neck coiling. It’s a flustered-looking Weyrbred girl that rushes forward to her aid at last, the seafoam green’s twitching anxiety showing no signs of abating at the new weyrling’s soothing words. They’re led off the sands quickly, all the while attempting to calm chronic distress.
+'''Local boy and green'''
+The tiny More Than Meets the Eye transforms, of course: not quickly, not smoothly, but with all the determination and desperation it takes to get the newest hatchling to its her feet. Her feet. The young green’s wings are so large that she can hardly lift them, but she’s hardly going to stop there, not with two and then three candidates hesitating toward her as though they’d block her in. She hisses, rushes, and then she’s past. Fast. A local boy’s looking away when she finds him, and then he can’t look anywhere else.
+'''Sa’zl and steel blue Yggdratth'''
+A pool of red, a splatter of… blue, now, steel-blue, the Crimson Mystery Egg corroding swiftly and sharply before the stainless claws and stubborn shoulder of the latest young dragon. He breathes heavily at first of the sandy, sweaty air, then scans the cavern all the way up to the galleries, enough to get journeymen shoving apprentices down in their seats where they mightn’t be seen. One squirms her head back up, but it’s only in time to see the still-wet blue find what he wants still on the sands: a ‘Reaches youth who isn’t afraid to stand him down.
+'''Jaques and ash brown Greshaith'''
+One last roll has the Blue Streak Egg revealing its namesake just before it crumbles into pieces around a lean, sharp-edged hatchling of unusually pale ash brown. He’s slow to move but deliberate when he does, heading unerringly toward one of the exiles. Jaques, standing with one arm lightly around his wife Evie, doesn’t look at her as he lets go and steps forward to meet the brown. One hand falls to the dragon’s red-touched neckridges as they leave the sands. There’s no name spoken–what do you expect from the quiet man?–but the riders in the crowd can find it easily enough: Greshaith.
+'''E’tan and Gray-blue Pwylth'''
+The Salt and Burn Egg has been rocking for some time and now gives way with one final split, a gray-blue hatchling uncoiling with improbable precision from his longtime isolation. He moves swiftly, careful to avoid brushing against stray shells or his roving siblings. Finally wobbling to a halt and collapsing with a relieved squeak at the feet of a tall, gangly boy said to be from Fort, the Impression: “Pwylth,” E’tan closes the distance and makes their first contact, helping his lifemate up, escorted off the sands as the newest rider pair.
+'''Boy and bronze'''
+Left all alone upon the sands, with shells and shards but no other company, the Boob Tube Egg finally begins to shudder and quake, fragmenting piece by piece until the bronze within can pull himself free. No doubt some of the weyr will breath a sigh of relief when it is not an exile he scampers for; he may have been the last to hatch, but he’s quick to Impress, apparently utterly confident in his choice. It’s a pity about the tubby candidate he sideswipes on his way – well, at least he’ll live to stand at another hatching… if he’s not too terrified. More blood: what a way to end a hatching.
+}}