Ainslee, emits and B'ram by Doji


There's still some candidates that haven't touched the eggs! The weyrlingmasters can't have that and so Ainslee gets to meet a few eggs herself.


It is afternoon of the seventh day of the fifth month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.


Igen Weyr - Sands

OOC Date 01 Mar 2018 06:00





The out-of-doors of Igen Weyr seems a blissful respite from the oppressive heat of this sandy colosseum. Heated from beneath by volcanic vents, the air above the hatching sands shimmers, lending a sort of unreal, dream-like quality to the area beyond even the magic that happens here at Impressions. Despite its blistering temperatures, the sands are incongruously soft, almost powdery, and flat save for the worn stone queen's bower that rises up to break the monotony and provide a place of respite for the doting mother-to-be.

Juggling schedules is hard, guys. Especially when more folks keeping getting searched and added to rosters and a few decide 'you know what? Maybe candidacy isn't for me.' and leave, but mostly the new people coming and the chores and pt schedules. So egg touchings may have been going on for a while, but there are still a few that somehow haven't managed to make it onto the sands today! It's a good thing Vosji and Magdaline managed to set the hidework straight, since now B'ram's wrangled up those stragglers and another expedition to the sands is ahead. The assistant weyrlingmaster has this speech completely memorized to the point where it's almost robotic. "No running, no yelling. Don't break anything. Give a bow when you enter to the queen and sire. And if you're going to be sick, please excuse yourself." Also, please keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times. But with instructions given, the rider is now ushering those candidates out onto the sands. Time to meet your potential future lifemates!

Ainslee hangs to the back of the group, bowing as she hits the edge of the sands. She hesitates, twisting the hem of her shirt around one finger in a nervous gesture as her fellow candidates fan out and make their way toward the eggs. "Ains. C'mon," Sel, a tall, dark-haired Candidate, originally from the Hold, gives her the verbal nudge she seems to need, and she follows him with careful steps, ending up in front of I'm Awake! Egg. "Is it bumpy?" Ainslee wonders aloud, gingerly laying a few fingertips on the crown of the shell.

To Ainslee: While the shell itself might not be bumpy, there's certainly a jolt of something as you feel like you go from a nice, snuggly cot and BOOM! You're on the floor! Why is it so early? Why is everyone so loud? And why, oh why, must you have to get up and go to PT before Rukbat is even fully up? You This egg doesn't wanna! Can't we all just sleep in? But when you close your eyes again, you find yourself back on the sands.

Ainslee starts, rocking back on her heels a little. A wry smile tugs at her mouth, and she smooths her palm over the shell again - more confidently this time - before stepping back. "It's not," she concludes. She lingers a moment - Sel's alreaady wandering away - before following her friend. "They tell you it's hot out here, but jeez," he's complaining, flapping the collar of his shirt. "You'd think at least once one'a the eggs'd be cooked." He at least has the sense to say that in a mutter, as the pair stop in front of Blood Swept the Land and Seas of Red Egg. Ainslee reaches out to this one first as she shushes the boy.

To Ainslee: That stream of chatter from Sel and the other's fades away, along with the heat of the sands as well. Greenery sprouts up all around you and the egg as well, but quicker than even the grass can grow, one blood red poppy after another appears. A veritable carpet of flowers that are more than flowers. Look at them, Ainslee. Each one is a memory. Some that have fallen long ago, some merely days ago, and still more that are those that will give their lives for others in the future. Will you be one of the flowers? Or will it be one of the others around you? Not every rider will live to a ripe old age after all….

Ainslee steps back with a small frown. "C'mon. I don't like this one," Sel's face is a mask of distaste as he tugs on Ainslee's arm. "It's creepy." "You're creepy," Ainslee retorts with no real heat. She lets herself be led away, but casts the egg a lingering glance. "It reminds me of… someone." She murmurs, taking the lead this time and heading for Bal de Neige Egg. "Why do you always pick the boring ones?" Sel complains - for one time is obviously 'always' - even as they both lay a hand on the shell. "Hush. It might hear you," Ainslee scolds.

**To Ainslee: As soon as finger tip touches to the surface of this egg, the world is practically bombarded with white flecks spinning all around. Eventually they settle down and you find yourself in a true winter wonderland! There's ice sculpture carving over there, and skate races on a frozen lake. Duck fast or you might get hit by a wayward snow ball, much to the delight of the youthful throwers of said projectile. And just when you think you might be getting a little bit too frosty, a hot cocoa stand arrives right in your path. As you stand in line however… it all starts to fade away and you're left back in the scorching hot heat of Igen's hatching cavern. **

"Now it's really too hot," Sel declares. "What was that, do you think?" Ainslee wonders. "A cold draft, or something?" She dabs at sweat at her temple. "Doesn't seem likely." "Sir!" Sel's calling over to B'ram asking, should he manage to get the AWLM's attention, "Can they hear us? In the shells, I mean?" Ainslee takes his moment of distraction to head for Last Light of Durin's Day Egg, not really stopping to see if Sel follows.

The yelling does get B'ram's attention and a bit of a scowl as well, but the man comes over quickly, but not running! He's a master of speedwalking apparently. "Remember, no yelling." There's a not so subtle glance over towards Zsaviranth to see if the queen has been disturbed or not. She's still busy watching another cluster of candidates closely, but doesn't seem too agitated yet. "Maybe? Who knows. Some folks swear babies can hear in the womb, and they don't come out speaking full sentences. Or knowing their own name and who will be the right lifemate for them…" So he just gives a shrug.

**To Ainslee: The trek up to the star stones just seems like it will never end… you've been walking for what seems like a day and a night and another day and really… you may have lost track. And yet still, you're compelled to keep walking. The journey will be worth it, you can feel it in your heart of hearts. And finally the stones are in sight just as dawn's light begins to break and… you're back on the sands once more. **

Sel looks a little put out by B'ram's lack of omnipotence, but bobs his head respectfully. "Yes sir. Sorry sir." Ainslee makes her way back toward them, remarking, "Is it true, sir, that we're brought out here for the eggs to, er, get a feel for us? Or is it just for us to get used to being cooked?" She asks the last with a slight smile. She stays close enough to hear the answer, but moves enough to lay a hand on What Happens at the Aftershow.

"Think of it as an orientation," For who, B'ram doesn't specify. Although the attempt at a joke is noted with a slight narrowing of the eyes. Ainslee may or may not have just wound up on a mental list. That could be good or bad… who knows?

To Ainslee: Ainsleeeee!!! Are you having a good time yet??? Because this egg certainly is. Look at all the streamers and snacks and oooh look. There's a drink. And there's a drink. And why don't you get yourself another one as well? Just be careful. The world is getting a little bit lopsided for a reason… and do you want to take a nap? Just a quick one. Surely B'ram and Zsaviranth won't mind if you and this egg just curl up right there….

Ainslee pulls away from Aftershow pretty quickly, with a bit of a wobble to her. It's a good thing Sel's stepped close enough to catch her arm and steady her, keeping her from toppling over and definitely ending up on B'ram's bad list. As it is, she doesn't notice the narrowing. "Orientation. Right, sir," she manages. Sel looks, overall, unimpressed by his friend. "C'mon, Ainslee," he says, leading her to a different - hopefully quieter - egg. "I think the heat's getting to you."

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