Logs:Deviled Eggs
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| RL Date: 17 October, 2015 |
| Who: Farideh, A'rist, Pia, Jocelyn, Aiden, Silva |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Lythronath surprises the candidates with bloodied eggs for their touching. |
| Where: Hatching Sands, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 11, Month 1, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
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| Snow is falling outside and filling the weyrbowl with an icy carpet, but many of the candidates don't have to worry about that just now. It's time for touching some eggs in the warm, cozy, sandy hatching cavern. Farideh gathers those without chores hampering their time, and hurries them along to the sands, chattering all the way about the rules and the weather. She stops at the entryway onto the sands now, waving them all forward with one gloved hand and a polite smile. "Be careful. Don't trip. No, no, Risa, not--" Sigh. "No loud noises. No strange movements. Cermin? Is that your name? No, you can't make faces at Lythronath." Teenagers, whatcha gonna do? Roszadyth looks calm, if watchful, some distance away where she can observe the going-ons and yet, not intrude. Big bronze. Strong bronze. Can carry lots. Which is why there are two carcasses, fresh, steaming, entrails falling out, right at the sands' entrance, waiting to greet the group. The third, well, that one's not quite so... localised. Half of it is still with Lythronath. About a quarter of it has already found its way to his and Roszadyth's children; shells smeared with blood and bile, and bits of flesh. The rest of it is sort of... around. A leg here. A tail there. His mate, of course, has been given the head, because that's chivalrous. A'rist is at the edge of the sands, watching. Waiting. Wary. From the galleries, Edyis is perched up the cushioned seats, trying desparately not to get too much amusement out of watching the weyrwoman wrangle teenagers, sketchbook out and the tools of her trade rolled out and set to the side. She is taking notes though, watching carefully and curiously. Trying not to grimace at Lythronath's 'luv offerings' for his mate. Look. Pia has seen the eggs. She knew what she was getting into, with this touching. Only... only not. There was no way she was going to miss this, but now, standing on the edge of the sands, she falters somewhat, one foot hovering in the air before she abruptly sets it down, eyes wide. If it helps, there's certainly some wonderment in her expression... and some mild disgust, too. "I-- wait, what?" Aiden doesn't seem inclined to break the rules that the Weyrwoman has been reciting, or to go far from the main group. He's not leading or trailing behind, but following the candidates in the front to where they're going. He stops in time not to bump into the girl in front of him, who stopped stopped short to avoid some blood on the sands. He steps around her and sees for himself the presents the bronze has brought, and pauses to see whate veryone else is doing. At least outwardly he isn't reacting; maybe being a cook has some benefits. He does seem nervous however, from the clutched hands in front of him. Jocelyn's ended up in the middle of a small cluster of starry-eyed youths who look just old enough to have asked permission to stand for their first clutches. Half of them groan as they're confronted with Lythronath's buffet; some of the others turn a sickly shade of green. One blonde promptly loses her lunch. Jounine's assistant-on-hiatus makes an impatient noise as people around her pause, ask questions, get sick: there's a grimace present, sure, but Joce presses forward, eyebrows lifting briefly at Farideh. "Does he expect them to experience the nourishment like this?" Still, she's quick to trek away from those carcasses, warily giving the leg some distance away a fair berth as she makes to approach one of the visible eggs. It won't bite, surely - and if it does, at least everyone else will have fair warning, right? The queen -- queens? -- doesn't seem bothered by the blood and gristle as she patiently scrutinizes each candidate that steps on the sands; the head, so lovingly offered, will have to wait for a time when there aren't greedy hands touching all over their precious baby eggs. Farideh sighs loudly again and gives one of the candidates a glower, before she finally deigns to look at the carcass-covered eggs with a too-perfect deadpan face. "You can touch any of them-- all twenty-eight of them, but do try to be gentle. Please. I don't want to have to make all of you leave because, Faranth forbid, you break an egg," the goldrider intones, ominiously, with a frown. A'rist grimaces a little for any gagging noises, or sickly looks. It's an almost sympathetic grimace. Perhaps it would be more so, if this wasn't his everyday. Lythronath's head lifts only when some of those candidates start to make their way forward. There are two throat clicks of warning first, or perhaps additions to Farideh's directions, are aimed to Jocelyn. He doesn't go to block her fully. He is careful, dainty even, picking his way around eggs with meat hanging out of his mouth. But he stares. Stares at the candidate. Stares at the pile of death and entrails. Stares at the egg she's heading for. And then, as demonstration maybe, wipes some of the meat he's holding on one of the egg's more distant neighbours. "Break an egg? Has that ever happened?" Pia, who had recovered enough equilibrium to start moving towards the eggs again (and yes, that pink one in particular; so pretty!) now pauses to glance dubiously at Farideh. Of course, she catches sight of Edyis up in the galleries in the process so has to give her an excited, double-handed wave too, but... still. "We won't, though. I promise. We'll all be careful because they're not ready to come out yet, are they? Not even Niahvth's. But soon." From the galleries, Edyis makes a set of tally marks on one of her note sheets, something deeply sympathetic in her expression at those unsettled by the 'buffet'. Still, there's a grin as she spots Pia down on the sands. Her expression goes neutral as some speak, and more note get jotted down with a small shake of her head. Murmuring to one of the riders sitting near her. Aiden seems happy when Pia asks the question that apparently he was wondering about too. He also moves foward, avoiding the goo and larger bits as best as possible, and starts moving towards one of the eggs. Not terribly surprising, it's a relatively clean egg. He seems stiffer than usual, and looks around, more than necessary to avoid the mess. He seems hesitant to actually touch one of the eggs now that he's coming up to one, and looks around to see what everyone else is doing. Careful movements halt just before Jocelyn reaches her target, an egg on the larger side whorled with all the colors of a volcano that's very much not as dormant as the caldera in which they all live. The redhead stares back at Lythronath for a long moment before slowly, so slowly, crouching once she's within reaching distance of that shell. Equally slowly, she extends her arm until her fingertips can brush against the warm surface, gradually sliding up until her entire palm can rest gently there, just so. « Not helping! » Frustration to disrupt the doting that's been coming off him up until now. (To Roszadyth from Lythronath) Farideh looks like she needs a nap, or some fellis. "I'm sure some idiot somewhere has broken an egg before. It wouldn't be hard to do if you're not careful, which," she explains, and ends it with an unsubtle glance at Lythronath. "Are you guaranteeing all of their cooperation, Pia?" She gives the starcrafter a sour look, but ultimately, she moves through the candidates and the eggs, hands on her waist, eyeing each of their movements with suspicion. The bronze's frustration meets with Roszadyth's unfailing calm; shifting sunlight through a lace-like filter. « They must. They have to acquaint themselves. We cannot stop them, Lythronath. » (To Lythronath from Roszadyth) No, no, no. More clicks, faster this time. But still, the movement of Lythronath's feet are careful, conscious. As he gets closer to Jocelyn. As that powerful muzzle lowers, fast and close, and jaws open to drop, splat, the bit of flesh onto her egg. Reaction time will determine what else it hits. He snorts at her. He looks at Roszadyth. And he heads for his cache at the entrance for more ammunition. Next up: Aiden. To Roszadyth, Lythronath will listen to her, more than to others, just now. There's pressure, but not on Roszadyth. It's his attempt at self control. « But give presents. » Petulant, even as he's actively trying to remedy the situation. "Absolutely," is Pia's immediate reply to Farideh, with no indication of anything less than complete belief in this truth. And, having decided that, she gives Edyis another grin before turning her attention to the eggs, fingers coming to rest immediately atop one of Niahvth's-- a narrow little egg, muted in shell and absolutely nothing like, well, Pia. "Oh, gross," is her (trilled? trilled) comment on Lythronath's efforts over Jocelyn's egg. "Are you okay, Jocelyn?" Aiden has finally touched an egg - very gently. He smiles as he does so, and seems to relax a little. He turns his head and watches in facination as Lythronath actually gets that close to one of the candidates. When the bronze looks in his direction he automatically takes his hand off the egg and steps back once. He's stiff as a board again. Calm, Calm. In truth, it might not be all for him. Eggs carefully tended by her touched by others cannot grate pleasantly with the gold. Still, she's patient and quiet, however much she tries to remind her mate of their responsibilities. « They will enjoy those gifts immensely when they are out of their shells, » the gold says. (To Lythronath from Roszadyth) So much for attempting to commune with dragon babies. There's all of three seconds to bask in the sensation of being so close before that muzzle lowers, splats the egg with bloody beast-bits - and Jocelyn, too, who instinctively throws her other arm up in front of her eyes as things plop into her hair and slide down her face. She doesn't jerk away, perhaps in desperate deference to the rule of 'no sudden movements, ' but her expression is far from pleased once the bronze has moved on. "Never better, " she grouses dryly Pia-ward, sacrificing the cleanliness of a sleeve to try to clear some of the gore from cheeks and forehead. From the galleries, Edyis giggles as the bronze drips gore over the assistant. There's even a grin as she listens to the chatter between the candiates and riders. Way better than darts. The starcrafter gets a narrow-eyed look, but now it's each candidate for themselves. "A'rist," Farideh greets, a she sidles up next to the bronzerider, arms folded in front of her skirts. Her eyes don't linger on the man and quickly skip off to the bloodied eggs. "Try not to let him hurt anyone?" It's a pleasant tone, but the message is somehow.. not. Roszadyth is suddenly very interested in what Jocelyn is doing over there, getting Lythronath's specific attention. She doesn't move from her spot, but she's staring intently at the once-assistant-headwoman. It appears to be a ligament that's swinging from his mouth as he gets up near Aiden - at least, would so appear to anyone who knew. Steps stop and the bronze stares at the candidate. And opens his mouth so that ligament can drop at the boy's feet. The staring, it still hasn't stopped. It probably won't. A'rist stirs, looks over to Farideh, expecting her. "He just wants them showing their respects. He's not... he's not in 'hurt' mode." Pia aims a dubious glance across the eggs (and past the dragons) towards Jocelyn. "You're sure?" She isn't, given the way she's backing further and further towards Niahvth's eggs and away from Roszadyth's, though at least she's careful not to walk backwards and, you know, run into any of them. "Is... it normal for a sire to be like that?" is her next question, aimed more generally. Aiden is still standing very still when Lythronath moves toward him, and remains in that position as the ligament is dropped at his feet, splattering him a little. He doesn't look at it however, because there's a large bronze dragon that is interested in him, and Aiden has apparently decided it's better to pay attention to that than what just got him bloody. He seems to get more nervous as the bronze dragon hasn't seemed to get tired of watching him. He glances at the riders, and maybe he overheard something because his body unstiffens a little, but in the way that someone that is terribly nervous pretends that he isn't. He looks back at the bronze and bows to the large dragon. "Nothing a hot bath won't cure, " Jocelyn retorts in reply for Pia, sparing not another glance for her now-bloodied sleeve as she straightens up from crouching low to the sands. The next nearest egg might also be one of Roszadyth's, so the candidate keeps her gait in that direction unhurried, if steady. But now that she's also captured its mother's attention, she warily dips her head into a polite nod while making eye contact before stepping up to touch this next egg, allowing herself a small exhale once she makes contact. Inside the hatching cavern, both queens are present and so is Lythronath. Many of his and Roszadyth's eggs are covered in blood, or entrails, as the bronze makes his presence known; lucky candidates. Farideh is quiet for longer than she should be after A'rist's answer, and then she asks neutrally, "You touched eggs when you were a candidate?" There's no yelling, at least! It's when that candidate bows that Lythronath moves, his frontmost claw, to push the ligament at Aiden. At least now it's more or less coated in sand. When the boy looks back up, still, Lythronath will be staring. Waiting. A'rist and Farideh stand near a pile of carcasses, from which Lythronath has been fetching the parts he needs for his, um, great works. "Yeah." A beat. "Not sure if I touched his, though. You?" Pia, happily: "A bath! I think I'll want one, too, after this." But Pia's dropping her gaze back to the unbloodied egg her fingers are resting atop, and closing her eyes, even. It's a moment of quiet communion; the egg may be silent, as they all are, but that doesn't mean she can't... well, probably imagine stuff. Her smile? Beatific. "You're going to be a green," she tells the egg. "I just know it." Aiden blinks a little, unsure. "Um, thanks?" he says, as if the ligament is a gift. He stands up straight again since the bow didn't get him off the hook for whatever he did to get the dragon's attention. He doesn't seem sure of what to do, and looks at the other candidates for help. Maybe one of them will get the bronze's attention next. He glances at Pia, happy for the distraction. "Are you good at guessing that kind of thing?" His gaze returns to the bronze while he speaks, though a little low to be direct eye contact. He seems a bit afraid to try that. Silva's totally been here the whole time. And that blood? That's a whole pile of 'nope' all wrapped up in a red bow. It narrows down the number of eggs she can touch and PRIMLY (Ew, Aiden. Gross.) she's going to step around all of that. Her back is rail straight as she minces through the eggs looking for a clean spot to touch. There, right on the edge of the Doomed in Darkness Egg she finds a clean spot and with a wrinkled nose of distaste for the gore elsewhere on it Silva reaches out to touch a single finger. Jocelyn gives a little shake of her head as she crosses toward another egg, this time one of Niahvth's. Both hands lift to touch this one, even as Pia's one-sided conversation elicits a raised eyebrow and a small eyeroll before she more fully turns her attention to the smaller egg before her. If she closes her eyes and breathes deeply once, twice, perhaps it's in a bid for patience. Perhaps it's an attempt to sense something despite her demeanor. The gold is steadily scrutinizing the candidates that Lythronath harasses, but even she grows tired of the game. It's one of the darker eggs that she shuffles to the side, and subsequently, closer to some of the candidates. She looks proud when it's done, but the bronze gets a severe study. "Yes, but I don't think I touched her egg, either." Farideh rocks back on her feet, and her eyes flick sideways to A'rist. "Are you nervous?" She watches him with eyebrows lifted and lips pressed together; curiosity clear. Roszadyth's sunshine is still soft, her touch gentle, when she kindly requests: « Come. I wish that you would stay with me. Let them look as well as they can for now. » (To Lythronath from Roszadyth) If Lythronath were a person, something akin to a groan probably wouldn't sound like... well, that. Like the deathly rumble of a big voice hidden behind nasty teeth. The bronze stares at Aiden. And then dips his head and stares at the coated entrail. Back. Forth. Back. Forth. Work with him, here. He might have kept it up all day, except he's being looked at. And he needs to return the gaze. A'rist's eyebrows knit. "Nervous? About them?" And with something bordering on resigned, "Do you mean about how they'll turn out?" "Honestly, I have no idea," Pia tells Aiden, grinning. "I've never actually seen a hatching before. But I'm convinced: definitely green." That her cheerfulness is (yet again) annoying Jocelyn goes without notice; indeed, the other woman totally gets a bright smile, as does Silva. As does everyone, really. "I can't believe that some of these could be hatching... you know, tomorrow, even. Our destinies! You, little egg, will be out in the world soon. You'll pick one of us and we'll fly. And if you're mine, you're going to love maps." Plainly, she's trying to put the terrifyingness of Lythronath right out of her mind. To Roszadyth, Lythronath likes that sunshine. It's a non-verbal determination that transfers from him to her, first, his work with this candidate not nearly done. But when, « Should give presents, » is repeated, there's a hint of relenting to it. Aiden seems to almost be resigned to the fact that he might have to pick up the thing, and then YES, a distraction. He'll take what he can get. And then he gets one of his own, when Pia answers his question. He returns Pia's smile. "I'll be curious if it comes through then. I've never seen a hatching before either." He smiles again when she starts talking to the egg. "You like maps?" He is starting to relax again, though who knows how long that will last. He doesn't make a move to touch another egg however. Lythronath is still too close. Eyes, LYTHRONATH! Roszadyth may be petite, but she is-- polite, even as she keeps eyeing her mate and his infernal entrail-offering. "Yes. Any of that? None of that? He's different and it seems like you're nervous." Farideh only takes her eyes off of A'rist to glare at the candidates, particularly the two young weyrbrats huddling near the pink egg, whispering with their heads together. Next, comes the proverbial hand-offering, in its most ethereal form. « Lythronath, » might as well be a caress as soft as Roszadyth says it, all softness and silk and that dancing light. (To Lythronath from Roszadyth) Working her way toward another of Niahvth's brood, Jocelyn's nose wrinkles into a decided grimace for Pia's sunny smile and subsequent enthusiasm, again. "Hardly sensible to address it as a 'little egg' when it's really going to be a little dragon that will fly and love maps, and whatever else it is you intend for one to do, " she sniffs in passing, spending only a moment at this next egg before progressing onward once more. She isn't far from that dark egg nudged by Roszadyth, so she pauses there with that one for the next few minutes, hands gently pressing to the shell. « Roszadyth. » Accepted. (To Roszadyth from Lythronath) The look becomes action; Lythronath quits Aiden's vicinity. But not without kicking at that ligament (and sand), as if he might at least get it to the candidate. Then, he's withdrawing, careful not to squash the head he'd given Roszadyth (his token) as he moves to her side - pausing only to tuck some clumpy, bloody sand up against that dark egg over there. A'rist considers Farideh's question more carefully. "It could be. But he didn't come from dragons like him. Didn't think I was being nervous, though." Pulling a hand back Silva arches an eyebrow at the egg. "You know." Her tone is quiet, like she really is just talking to the egg, "You would look cute if you weren't covered in gore." But lacking anything to help fix that Silva just drifts away and ends up closer to Jocelyn as she schools Pia's enthusiasm. "And people think I'm a bitch." Jocelyn gets a look up and down from the general direction of Silva as she pauses nearby, hands on hips. This time... this time Pia pauses, lifting her hands from the shell they've been placed on so that she can put them on her hips and eye Jocelyn outright. "You just live to try and throw cold water on people, don't you?" she says, perhaps a little louder than is warranted by, you know, hatching sands, delicate eggs, protective parents. "Right now, it is an egg. It won't always be. But you'll always be a--" Oh, Silva, providing the correct word at just the right moment! "Bitch." And, because it would be rude to ignore Aiden: "I'm a starcrafter. Maps is what I do, when it isn't reminding snooty people to just live a little." Aiden breathes a sigh of relief when the bronze dragon leaves, but the parting shot from Lythronath did manage to get the ligament onto his feet. He steps back carefully and flicks blood off his boots. He ahs and nods at Pia. "That makes sense. I haven't had much to do with maps. Or stars. I'm a baker." He walks towards the eggs again, carefully, moving to an egg that has at least a hand size spot clean to touch free of blood. He still seems nervous, but less than when a large bronze dragon was staring at him. And just that quickly Roszadyth looks that much more pleased, nestling in next to Lythronath when he comes to her side. "I don't think they will be. He's odd, but Roszadyth isn't." Farideh says it like she believes it, and she absolutely does. "Maybe you're odd too," the goldrider replies, before she starts to walk back towards the eggs and the candidates; she's still watching those suspicious-acting teens, but Pia, Jocelyn, and Silva get her attention as she passes. And if there are blood prints left when Lythronath nudges his muzzle against the queen, well. Just a sign of his affection. Like an aunt's lipstick. "Probably," answers A'rist. It's not until Farideh's gone on her way that he smiles, just a little. Bitch. Snooty. The redheaded object of those names might be wounded by words she's no doubt heard before, but Jocelyn's expression shields whatever she might feel beneath smooth neutrality under Silva's, then Pia's looks. "It isn't going to be some wondrous sleepover where everyone braids each other's hair and shares their hopes and dreams." Maybe some of what she feels is briefly there in her tone; it's weary, hardly a defense or even an excuse. It certainly isn't an apology for her less than optimistic attitude, but she does make to walk away, perhaps angling next for that lurid pink egg. With a half step Silva settles herself in Jocelyn's way, like she's been waiting for that pink egg this whole time. The smallest on the sands Silva has to put the attitude into the moment, as one hand comes to rest on a hip, the other coming to touch her lips. "Well. I guess we could maybe forgive you. I mean, if you even bothered to like, try to do your hair, maybe you'd be in a better mood. It all starts with personal grooming." Judgemental eyes trace downwards on the redhead, clearly judgemental. "It would be really hard, but like, if you wanted I could maybe try to help. Bitch is hard to wash off though." Casually she'll lean towards the egg, her voice startling off the two whisperers, and touch her hand to it. "I'm not stupid," says Pia, voice quivering somewhat. She's aware, certainly, that Silva's also talking to Jocelyn, but her words flood out nonetheless; quiet, for once, and without that effervescence. "Whatever you think. I earned my knot, and if I Impress, I'll earn that one too. I just don't see the point of going through life finding fault and failing with everyone and everything. Have a little fun, or if that stick is up too high to allow that... let others have theirs, at least." Aiden seems to have just noticed the tension among some of the other candidates, observant fellow that he is. And it's even getting a bit ugly. When he steps back from the egg he's touching now, he moves away from them to find another egg to touch. Better safe than sorry, especially when he sees the Weyrwoman's attention on him. /He's/ at least trying to be the model candidate on the sands. No trouble here, none at all. He does seem to be bothered by the blood on his shoes through, and he stops to wipe them off with a handkerchief from his pocket. With Roszadyth and Lythronath satisfied, and snuggled up, there's not much in the way of the candidates having their view of the eggs, except time. It seems they've just been shepherded onto the sands when Farideh is shooing a few of them away from the eggs. Her eyes linger on the girls by the pink egg, her eyebrows drawn together with displeasure. "Is there a problem? I hope there's not." A pause is coupled with a glower to each. "It's time to go. Back to the barracks or whatever duties you have. Come on, let's go," she says, heading for the exit, with the presumption that they will all follow. As if anyone wants to be stuck on the sands with big daddy Lythronath. Jocelyn halts, pale eyes studying Silva, measuring in the wake of the teenager's words. "While I appreciate your - advice, " she says at last, lips pursing, "I assure you that if my hair needed assistance, I'd seek out a contemporary first rather than trust a child with its care." And then Farideh's ushering them back off of the sands, with which the former headwoman gladly complies. Silva, the pink egg, Pia: they're all dismissed with her abrupt stride out. Silva flips her hair over a shoulder and smiles at Jocelyn's retreating back. A hand reaches up to flick the little white knot on her shoulder, "You might want to double check that high horse you got stuck up your cheeks~" At least she is totally doing what Farideh said, and walking away from the eggs. "Because last I checked, we were your contemporaries. Thankfully, some of us actually know how to pull it off, and manage to not be completely tragic." Her eyes dance across the sands and settle on Aiden. A bright smile fixes, no, she totally wasn't just putting another girl down, what, just for him. Hi~ And Pia? She huffs out an exasperated breath, pats that egg in front of her once more, and then makes her own exit. Pursued-- no, wait. No bears. This time. Aiden returns the smile of Silva's automatically - a smile for a smile. But he seems almost more nervous about the interchange between the other candidates than he is about being on the hatching sands for the first time. Some things are scary and some things are SCARY. When Farideh directs them to leave the sands, he seems almost relieved and complies immediately. |
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Comments
Faryn (18:06, 17 October 2015 (PDT)) said...
Lynner, you asshole.
Squishy (18:49, 17 October 2015 (PDT)) said...
Ahhh I missed the best part.
A'rist (20:03, 17 October 2015 (PDT)) said...
Look, if the candidates would've just ripped bloody pieces off and smeared them all over his eggs as an offering, like they were supposed to, a lot of song and dance could've been avoided. That's all I'm sayin'.
Alida (22:44, 17 October 2015 (PDT)) said...
Lynner; sometimes, I really luv ya. ;D
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