Who

El'ai, Lisette

What

Lisette and a group of Candidates get taken out onto the sands. El'ai makes sure they all sign the 'I could get eaten' waiver.

When

It is midmorning of the thirteenth day of the third month of the fourth turn of the 12th pass.

In Southern:
It is the thirteenth day of Autumn and 63 degrees. Still dark and overcast, the autumn rain has picked up and become heavier, albeit still pleasant.

Where

Hatching Sands, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 27 Feb 2015 08:00

 

el-ai_default.jpg lisette_default.jpg

"Yeah, I saw Dhiammarath eat a candidate whole once. She just gobbled him right up, didn't even leave a speck of blood on the sands."


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Hatching Sands

The Sands are surprisingly soft to the feet and to the eyes: rich grains of gold commingle with the ground basalt-black that mark the shores of Azov's Sea. The whorls of lighter color pattern into the sands, larger-grained and often settling at the top, as golden driftwood against dark shores. … but the moaning from above sounds like the chorus of the damned, lessening the natural beauty here below.
Type 'help here' for info on how to set/use the sands.

It is the thirteenth day of Autumn and 63 degrees. Still dark and overcast, the autumn rain has picked up and become heavier, albeit still pleasant.


Timor: moon6.jpg
Belior: moon8.jpg

As El'ai's first duty as Wingsecond of Ocelot is to herd a group of Candidates onto the sands: the young bronzerider has ensured that the tallest of them was put right into the middle of this group of younglings and rabble-rousers. "If you don't bow to the mama dragon, she'll eat you," the devilish twinkle to such pale blue eyes is the only hint that he teases (maybe) the group. Dhiammarath is curled about her clutch like a glittering sabre of malicious intent except for the fact that she appears to be dozing. Do not let that fool you: the outer eyelid is up and that honeyed tipped tail swish-swishes lightly. Oh, this queen is awake. The eggs do as eggs do, they sit there. There are tiny footprints woven all around them, but of sign of the gold's lifemate there is none. Hannah is, momentarily, gone. Thus, El'ai is doing K'ane's bidding. "Go, go. Before you get eaten! Oh, sign this form. Just in case you get eaten." Each Candidate has to sign something.

"Yeah, I saw Dhiammarath eat a candidate whole once. She just gobbled him right up, didn't even leave a speck of blood on the sands." It comes out bored and matter of fact, deadpan enough that some of them are looking as if they believe Lisette. She steps around one of the smaller ones and flashes a smile at El'ai as she signs that something. If he looks at it later he'll see that her name is missing but that there's a smiley face instead. Flouncing off amongst the eggs, she hazards a one off over her shoulder to him, "We have plans later." Which can't possibly be anything good and doesn't come with further explanation. She wanders aimlessly around the mounds of eggs before she touches the EXTERMINATE! Egg.

Overhead the skies threaten to open up their wrath onto the swirling sands of the Hatching Cavern. Grains clog your eyes and nose as the fury of a storm makes it difficult to see, to think, to breathe. But wait. Is this true? What is truth? Oppression comes from above in the form of millions of dragon-shaped beings that all wield flamethrowers in an effort to subjugate and crush the people of Southern. To subjugate you. A lone girl standing in the fury of the winds that sting and flay your skin. Fear causes your heart to race and your lungs to pant in an effort to fight the flight response for you know that salvation may yet come. By the arrival of one who is destined to push back the invasion of forces beyond your control; a man out of time, torn through the very fabric of space to come to find you. Or is he? Has he been born yet? As the forces fall to the ground, the shouts of those that die and fall around you, you realize that salvation has yet to be born, and he twists within the confines of the eggs. Just as you wonder if you can last, a bright light explodes behind your eyes and you find yourself standing on the Hatching Sands. Outside, thunder rumbles and a light rain falls.

After having the Candidates sign the 'I Got Eaten waiver', El'ai lets them go on their way. Maybe smirking at the girl until he realizes that she did not sign the waiver. He shakes it at her like a fist to the sky. Damn the Candidate!

She's still there for a moment, her hand running over the shell of the egg until she freezes up, quiet for several long moments as her expression falters. Then Lisette coughs involuntarily as she yanks her hand away from the egg. Her eyes are narrowed and one 'brow has arched sharply upwards, "What are you kidding me?" Whatever was communicated there the young woman looks exceptionally skeptical. Stepping away she hazards a glance towards El'ai in time to see him shaking the paper at her. From across the sands she smiles smugly before disappearing around another egg, putting her hand lightly onto Faux Outrage Egg.

The moment you place your fingers on that egg's shell, you feel a kindred spirit writhing within. Oh how the soul inside loves you. Coddles you. Is excited to see you. Gossip is murmured to you through the connection point of flesh to shell and you find yourself staring hard at El'ai and then at Dhiammarath and then at the other Candidates in your group. Did you see that girl over there and the way she stole the other girl's boyfriend? Her face, her face annoys you just for existing and for no other reason than that. As the veneer of niceness, of belonging falls away, you are left with a feeling of the oppressive force of someone who's outrage swells to consume you. Outrage against the world, outrage against the fact that you signed a smiley face. WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT YOU HOOKER? YOU WHORE! YOU ARE A NO GOOD DIRTY ROTTEN GOSSIPMONGER WHO HATES ME! YOU SIGNED YOUR NAME WITH A FACE AND NOT YOUR NAME THAT IS SO NOT FAIR OMG WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT YOU ARE SOOOO — Abruptly, the constriction in your throat, the hunted feeling of an irrational hate is gone. And you are left staring at the blue little egg. A little egg who's voice was so loud that you sneak a look at those around you. Did they hear that?

"That was funny, wasn't?" Lisette doesn't bother to murmur that under her breath, amused and pleased at the same time. Much to the confusion of some of the younger candidates around them. When one of them gives her 'the eye', she gives it right back and shakes her head. She's communing with a like soul over here! Yep, going along with it until. Bam. When the yelling is over she snorts. "What's your problem anyway? Maybe you need to just relax. Not everything is about you." Because of course the egg can communicate back, she turns her back on the little blue egg with the loud voice. Her meander takes her past quite a few of them before she lets her fingers run across the shell of Expelled Into The Dark Egg.

At first nothing but an electric hum runs up your fingers, through the funny bone of your elbow — ow! — and into the muscles of your shoulder. The sands are the same and you feel the same except for that curious numbness that chases after that electric hum, turning your arm into dead weight. The fingers curl inward as tendons tighten and shrink, turning your hand into an ugly claw. The skin of your flesh hardens, forming flakey lesions that ooze just enough to give your flesh a shiny, glossy appearance. Now, you see with your eyes — one eye, for the other has gone blind — that the sands aren't the same. That your fellow Candidates mill about you but won't look at you. The darkness creeps in like a rolling fog, the great queen's head lifting to find the social pariah touching one of her eggs. The maw opens, teeth wicked and shiny as tears course down your cheeks for how alone you feel. How strange you feel. And how very, very different you feel. Who will love you for you, and not for what you have done or what you have become? As the senior queen moves to remove you forcibly into that rolling fog of darkness you find yourself standing once more on the heated sands. Frozen in position. The tiniest of numbness tickles your arm, but you find yourself not staring at a claw. Not blind in one eye. You are you, Lisette.

Lisette rubs the length of her arm, eyeballing this egg in particular with some suspicion. Even more than that first one. She steps away from it slowly, her path taking her back towards the main entrance of the sands where El'ai likely still is. "I think some of these little dragon babies might be…" As she passes him she'll drop her voice into a hiss. "Emotionally stunted." Which is really rich considering who this is coming from. It would appear that she's done doing her circuit of the grounds, except for just this last one. It's calling to her. She just can't help but touch… That's What She Said Egg.

The smallest detail of this egg is felt through your fingertips as you finger the egg (that's what she said). Hot, heavy is the breath that escapes your mouth as the egg attempts to draw you in, to pull you into a shell that's no longer quite so leathery (that's what she said) nor is it yet hard (that's what she said) but at least the egg isn't the smallest of the bunch (that's what she said). Pink swells across the egg's surface at your touch (that's what she said), and you find yourself really, really wanting to lick it. Do you like it? Will the egg want you to lick it? Maybe it tastes like bubble gum (thaaaaaat's what she said) or maybe it tastes like salted leather (that's what she said!). Every thought that filters through your mind is somehow dirty, somehow filled with innuendo. From across the sands, you hear — or do you? — El'ai yell out, "Don't be afraid to get all handsy with it!" You find yourself blurting out, "That's what she said," as images of getting all handsy on something infinitely more delicious than an egg. Man flesh, woman felsh; whichever engages that lust-filled part of you, it's on full throttle. The line between the egg's touch and the reality is hazy enough that you find yourself standing in front of everyone muttering, "Oh yeah. That's what she said!" The red-haired, freckled boy turns. Stares. And giggles like a nerd.

El'ai is leaning up against the edge of the stone entranceway with his arms folded nonchalantly across his chest, the toe of one boot resting on the ground next to his calf. The rakish half-smile he's holding to only widens, but he does warn. "Don't be saying that too loudly. You'll get eaten." Humor sparkles in those pale eyes of his.

Is that a flush that's coloring her cheeks now? Whatever it is, Lisette begins to look full on uncomfortable. She casts a dirty look El'ai's way when he mentions getting all handsy with it, but that's nothing compared to the laser eyes she shoots in the direction of the red-haired kid. "What are you looking at?" She snaps, pulling her hand away. That egg that previously looked so sweet and cute and like a light colored ball of bubble gum now… now it looks as if it has the same color as the chewed up gum a person finds stuck to the bottom of their shoe. "As I was saying… You think we're almost done here or does Prusilla back there need to touch that yellow one a couple dozen more times? I think you should tell her it's going to hatch gold."

Pushing his shoulder off the wall, El'ai smirks at Lisette's obvious discomfort. His eyes travel past her to Prusilla hugging her arms around one of those yellow eggs as he saunters forward. "You'd think girls would know that a brown cannot sire a gold," yet despite the tired sound of his words, the bronzerider's grin is wide. And so very, very wicked. "All right Candidates! Bow to the queen and get your butts moving. I wasn't supposed to bring you out here anyway," whups - or is that a lie? El'ai isn't above lying to light the fires under the asses of the Candidates. "And you," Lisette is caught in his grip, "Get to be walked off personally because you didn't sign the waver properly." And that is how this young wingsecond gets his little ducklings off the sands: by trapping the trickiest duckling! Prusilla has little tears in her eyes, and she can be heard muttering to the red-haired boy that Lisette nearly made pee himself, "I just know that one is GOLD!!" Some people are dumb.

"Shhh, don't break the illusion." Lisette shushes El'ai as she watches Prusilla hug the egg. Her smile is all cat that ate the canary when the other girl's mutters reach her ears. The raven haired candidate can be heard quietly laughing to herself as goes along with the bronzerider leading them off the sands. Some seriously jealous female (and male) eyes are shooting daggers her way as she sidles up next to the newly minted Wingsecond. "There's this thing that I need to do later and I was thinking, you would be perfect come along with me." But it's totally not weird at all, as her following explanation will clear up, Cha'el told her to do it. Completely legit. Maybe she didn't need to corner that one boy but she'll fervently deny that he was complaining at the time.

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