Clutched: August 23rd, 2014 / Hatched: September 20th, 2014
Mayte's gold Rhiscorath x R'xim's bronze Shalnth
Egg Theme: When Things Go Wrong (Disasters)
Dragonet Theme: Superheroes
Playlist
Flight Log - Clutching Log - Hatching Log
PC Impressees:
F'in and Lost in the Labyrinth bronze Rhakanth
Sa'id and Scion of the Thirteenth Regiment bronze Vojeth
Th'bek and Glory of the Ancient Hunt brown Tavuqth
Jaelynn and Freedom on Padded Feet brown brown Otsoath
Sawyer and Mist Within the Mirror brown Wyrraith
Insta Impressees (Adopted):
Rh'd and Son of the Storm blue Nhyrth
Delila and Fighting Against All Odds green Amazolith
Tahi and The King's Highway green Golgrainth
Other PC Candidates:
Egg Descs
The Tides Will Rise Egg
It starts as a trickle, a smattering of blue around the base of this silky-shelled egg. The blue crests, sneaking up no matter the direction which the gaze falls. Tiny shimmers of cerulean climb higher before your eyes as you strain to see the top of the egg where a small brown hardness remains. This hardness however, even as it sings its stability, begins to blend to a blue-stained puddle. It must just be a trick of the light, but now the entire egg looks deeply wet.
Call Your Doctor Egg
Pink suffuses this ever-hardening shell with a roseate blush and a peachy-coral undertone, the faintest of flimsy wisps floating blonde at the base. Ridges organically script over the length of this tall thing, giving it an erratic, lifelike… daresay turgid appeal. The native allure fades after four hours, unfortunately, transmuting into a most embarrassing affliction: as time passes, the hue of the shell itself darkens, deepening from a hue full-flushed with life through urgency of darkest red and finally into the bruising purple of eggplant, until the faintest shades of deathly blue can be seen.
Twisted Catastrophe Egg
Resting at a canted angle upon the sands sits an orb of natures' truly cataclysmic design. Roiling black and bruise-blue stain the narrowly rounded tip, while wisps of white filter through the darkness to outline the thick dark mass of angry clouds. A sky of frightened pale blue cowers beneath the tumultuous mass of heavy color above, ripped open by thick whirling ribbons of deep bruise that seem to reach toward its base to wreak utter destruction. Twisted sisters of impending catastrophe lash at the widely rounded bottom of this egg, seeming to kick up the very sand where it rests and coat the shell in thrown whirls of muddy brown. Ephemeral blue white color flashes from the fury above to sear the torn dirt below. All the while, flecks of gray fill any gaps in nearly impenetrable torrents that hint at rain.
Eggxactly Just One More Egg
It's difficult to convey the sheer frustration of this egg. Wood grain juts up against metallic spars, against off white stucco, against maroon plastic. The egg is packed with colors, repetitive shapes crammed together already…and yet they want one MORE to be shoved in here? Isn't 32 enough? When will it stop?!
Ketchup On My Shirt Egg
Crisp kelly green swathes around the egg, every line neat, every curve smooth, belled out in elegant exactness. Darker folds march in the same sinuous lines, hunter-green, delineating a faint form of feminine perfection. Right near the upper curve that perfection is spoiled, roughened up by a red smear sinking into the green, darkened brown and entirely unlovely, ruining the cool, confident look of the egg. It spreads as if dabbed at, pushed in, and radiates eye-catching smugness, as if it'll be in sight as much as it can.
Not the same as the box AT ALL! Egg
Disaster curls around conflicting swirls of slime green and brassy orange which drip in an unrelenting flood of semi-permenant horror. Especially malicious curls a particularly cirulent swirl of mucous lime green to deface a pristine patch of marbled grey, while opposite brittle brassy stands form the vague outlines of a face as they choke out the underlying gloss of of midnight black.
Sudden Darkness Egg
At first glance brightness and joy seems to sparkle from this unassuming ovoid. Pleasure curls from domestic tranquility till closer inspection reveals devious undercurrents of pure black. Close inspection reveals the growing horror of deepest black which reveals itself only in the absence of light, a horror which inspires fear of a frozen or burning demise.
Howling Windborn Egg
Blue-white roils, coils around the surface of the egg with frenetic movement, strummed up into disastrous coils by some immense force. The winds that whip it into such frenzy shapes the egg as well, making it oddly lopsided in an impression that it had been laid upside-down. Far up on the fattest curve, protected from the whirling dervish of devastation, a single eye of perfect blue rests, offering a view down-down-down into the midst of the destruction towards some hazy green shores.
Ancient History Egg
Huge, inexorably huge this egg looms on the sands, coloured obsidian and basalt around its base in an ugly grey-black mottling slapped on with deific ire. Above a jagged, fanged rim violent, vibrant orange and red pulses out in an explosion that ooze downwards in a destructive carpet. Far towards the bottom, in a flicking of stick-figure black, things seem to flee from a splotch of blue-green mosaic; above the thick smoke curdles towards the apex in thich, churning billows, promising cool weather and deific displeasure. Someone get the turtle meat cauldrons ready!
Monster Snake Egg
Lamineered and sinuous, the egg is a monstrosity of tawny green and deeper brown. The meticulous mottling repeats a reptilian pattern of scales that covers the entire ovoid in gradiating, pixelated pointilism. Unabashedly, unashamedly huge, it hopes to strike terror in the heart of watchers with two rufous spots high up towards the apex, connected by thin monocles of dusty off-white. In its shadows slithering hides, slick movement, an impression of imminent danger.
Sharks in the Mist Egg
Grey maelstrom swirls ominously over the shell of this oversized egg, shot through with lightning and blurring the lines of several ominous shapes just waiting behind the curtain of wind and dust. At the top of this large egg, though, blue sky hints promisingly, but you have to make it through the necklace of shark teeth that rings it first.
Falling Flat Egg
Small and disappointing, this egg is mostly dark and shadowed but for one spotlight that shines coldly, judgingly upon it. This egg is silent and ashamed, cowering in the back of the hatching ground as glows fall flat upon its matte shell. The least of Rhiscorath's eggs, and the least likely to succeed - at least at this stage.
That Shouldn't Have Gone There Egg
A uniform, glistening, unremarkable black is this nicely-proportioned egg, save for the grey striations that swirl in a constant spiral from the tip downward, counterclockwise and evenly spaced. A closer look at that grey marbling shows it to be not just simple streaking, but something more - a message perhaps, almost legible in the imperfection of color. Pleasing to the eye, it seems to burgeon with promise - a story well-told, a joke well-delivered, an idea sparked to life. And yet…whoops! Here, a bright, jarring streak of white swoops counter to that evenly spiraling flow! And there, a piercing comet of blazing yellow interrupts with startling immediacy! Oh dear. What's said is said; there's no reeling those back in.
Just a Little Scratch Egg
The bright, candy red of this egg gleams in any light, but in this showcase of the Hatching Grounds, the glows pick up each tint, each glimmer of the delicate work that went into making the coating so smooth… but for that ugly jagged grey scratch going across it, shoulder to hip, darker where the rending goes further in. And it was so brand new…
All Locked Out Egg
This egg looks like glass, but just gently warped that makes it impossible to see through clearly . The glass is tough, tempered to resist attempts to break in - you can only get out. But how can you get out if you can’t get in? At the very top of this egg, a little slot to gain entry, a promise… oh, but you locked yourself out, don’t you remember?
Something Wet, Something Blue Egg
A small, tiffany-blue egg that seems to warp and wobble a little, as if it’s under water. Little bits of white lace turned slightly soggily grey caress the shell diagonally amidst the wreckage of flowers that have been haphazardly thrown to the water of this egg, seeming to float away from each other sadly. Despite this, the shell itself twinkles cheerfully - nothing can ruin its big day.
Bad Hair Egg
This egg is just not right. Not from this side. Not from that side. Maybe… over here? Nope. It’s lopsided and misshapen. Encircling orange bands frizz out into piebald bars of brown and yellow, lumpy on one side. Smooth on the other. And on top… forget it. It’s just a mess. A wild swirl of colors and textures and there’s not making any sense of that. Don’t bother.
Murphy's Law Egg
This egg is totally ordinary looking. Medium-sized, a mottled brown like the sands and stone of Igen itself. But, there, just under the swell of the curve where light reflects back up and illuminates, a flare of alarming red! It vanishes upon closer inspection, slipping around just beyond view. Lurking, just out of sight. Whoa, is that a crack running down the side of this egg? Is it about tip over? No, just tricks of the light. And that elusive red flare.
Oh No What’s My Line Egg
Blank. This egg is completely. Totally. Blank. Purest white and blazing, magnifying and reflecting all of the light that is cast upon its pristine and smoothly curving surface. It’s a large egg. Too large. It draws the eye. Something about it makes it stand out, seeming alone amidst all the others, abandoned and looming. Hard to look away from.
Chixulub Egg
A small egg, dense and heavy-looking. A metallic sheen, grayish and pitted from crown to base, with rusty dripping trails that stream from within the pits, spilling down the sides to pool at the bottom, a rusty base buried in the sands. Sinister, this egg has a weight, a presence that belies its small size and it seems, even amidst the others, to be alone in a cocoon of space.
Gum on My Shoe Egg
A small egg, round and well-shaped, and red, red, red! It isn’t stop-sign red, or do-not-enter red. No. It’s wagon red, balloon red, kool-aid red! Cheerful and bright. Silver circles, dot it from top to bottom, a pale pattern of criss-crossing bars between the silver circles, ending at the crest with a swooping curlicue of bright white. At the bottom a thick band of scuffed cream, fading to black and… eww… a goopy looking pink mess of … ew.
Three Mile Island Egg
A medium sized egg, slick and glossy at first glance with yellow and black, stark triangles of color, flicker flacking back and forth over the smooth curving surface, the borders between colors sharp and defined. Close… closer… closest. The surface is crazed. Tiny cracks, millions and millions of tiny cracks COVER the surface of this egg, a noxious green glowing, oozing ready to seep and spread.
Buttered Side Down Egg
Upside down sits this golden brown and beautiful egg with darkest brown bits across the pitted surface and warm tawny cream tones in the hollows of tiny voids. A golden yellow pat of silken smoothness covers the crown, but is wedged, barely visible, into the sand.
Toilet Paper On Your Shoe Egg
A glossy black, smart-looking egg. Small and pointed, perfect. And it goes with EVERYTHING. The sands. The slope of the galleries. The lighting. But… what’s that… that THAT? A white fluttering band trails loosely around the egg marring its svelte lines and ruining the suave composure of its otherwise completely refined appearance.
Hey Guys, Watch This Egg
This egg is poised, a dance of rickety bars of brown and gray over a wash of green, frothy texture topped with blue and brilliant white atop. The bands of dark colors switch this way and that across the surface, giving the egg an unsettling appearance of motion.
Triskaidekaphobia Egg
Ill-omened silvered black, white and red, this large egg looms with impending impendingness. And meance. That too. Each facet is an ill-fitting shard, a broken glossy mirror (thirteen in number) warped and teasing with reflections of things not on the sands. Blood red rivulets (thirteen in number), drip down, down, down the angled sides, in seams and across flat faces, smearing crimson. White splashes dot the egg, there are… there are twelve. Twelve? Where’s the thirteenth? Is that it there? Up under the egg, near the bottom? It could be… gotta get closer, real REAL close to see for sure.
Farewell to Light Egg
This egg sits wide upon the Sands, seeming to stretch out like an artist's canvas. Deepest twilight blue crowns the upper third, a gleaming white-gold sun shining at the apex and flinging bright points of glowing silver and platinum outward and down over the whole surface in a glorious spangle of constellations upon rich midnight. Yet as those stars fall, rolling clouds of charcoal grey rise up to swallow them one by one, those seemingly inexorable points of brilliance growing ever small, dimmer, and fewer until being consumed by utter, impenetrable darkness where the egg meets the ground and melds into shadow.
Wildfire Egg
Blazing orange, red, and yellow lick and swirl over a thick backdrop of stark, pale grey, engulfing this egg in a raging, heated luminance that seems nearly too bright to look at and incredibly dangerous to approach. Searing blue and white glow out from a few points near the bottom, burning bright at the base of a series of dark, tapering streaks that rise, ghostly, through the midst of the conflagration, more easily visible in some places than others. Flecks of charcoal black and ashen grey float directionless across the ignited shell - all that remains of what might have existed before.
Ancient Enemy Egg
A single, perfectly round crimson mote stands slightly offset from the tip of this brilliantly sky blue egg. Pale wisps of cloudy white scud across the otherwise cheerful hue…but all is not well. Oh no! For slanting down across the tranquil vista from that baleful red roundel comes a deluge of sickly silver, rolling and twisting hungrily in an inevitable downward plunge the wraps in one long, broad curve toward the base of this egg. Dare you approach? Perhaps you'd best bring a flamethrower.
Ruined Evening Egg
Though it lacks variety, this ivory egg still manages to catch the eye with its tantalizingly smooth surface and vivacious sparkle. If it's possible for an egg to achieve elegance then this one has— if not for that splash of deep crimson that stains an otherwise perfect shell. The spill drips along this egg's rounded curve, an asymmetrical blemish that stands in the way of glittering glamor.
Where There is an Egg of Smoke
Darkness engulfs this ovoid in watery blurs, sinking it deep-deep-deep into nightmare depths tinted purple and blue. Squinting reveals jagged gunmetal shapes, ripped apart in irregular chunks. Faintly, scattered around the curve of the egg, fragments of white and orange speck the shell with unexpected purity, until a wedge-shape is barely visible right above the silty lower pole. From it fumeroles of smoke tinted fire-bright trails up, whipped into hazy streamers by the ocean's grasp.