Who |
Amani, Va'os, Evka, Odesse, Roheis, Rhuordian, Ulrika, Osarlio |
What |
The Gallery view as Zymuraith lays her third clutch, which is a massive success. |
When |
It is afternoon of the first day of the sixth month of the sixteenth turn of the 12th pass. |
Where |
Galleries, Southern Weyr |
OOC Date | 04 Mar 2019 05:00 |
Galleries
Stone benches rise up.. and up.. and up: grooves upon grooves show marks of their hand-hewn origins, small chips and uneven textures to tell the tale of humble beginnings in a place which looks upon the black-and-white Sands of Southern, a place of greater beginnings indeed. The Galleries take up roughly a third of the perimeter of the Sands: to the west are flat, staggered entranceways, ledges for dragons interested in watching the proceedings. Below and just easterly, a stitched-hide curtain covers the entrance to the bowl, keeping the wind away from the precious cargo often housed upon the Sands. It cannot help the shrieking of the wind above: though it is muted in this hollow, the intermittent sighs and moans of the thermals shrieking through the viewing-ledges above can be unsettling.
From the sands below, For her past two clutches, Zymuraith has always decided to make the timing significant somehow, whether it be at night in contrast to a daytime flight, or during a break in the clouds after having flown in the rain. The pattern follows here: it's the first day of winter, a warm, dry evening, and Pern's second largest gold is hefting herself forth into the Hatching Cavern (much to Amani's relief). Tsiroth is duly summoned to help with sire-ly duties, of course, and the mercurial gold aims for the highest point of the Sands, claiming her half of the space with the knowledge that she'll soon be sharing. She carefully finds the midpoint and promptly starts digging a hollow, wasting no time in beginning a small arc facing toward the back of the cavern. These things are heavy, and she wants to start unloading now!
Mosaic White Wyrm Egg
Ebony dusts the surface, swirling around the pattern of tiny bone tiles in the shape of a coiling serpent, mouth agape revealing pointed fangs. Twin coals burn in place of eyes, ruby depths drawing in the eye down into the endless black abyss while one single spot of gold gleams right at the tip of the bony tail.
Beware the Groove Egg
Its tough to miss this egg, with its large size and extravagant color scheme. Elegant geometric lines of shimmering gold create grand arching structures over a plush teal background. From the very tippy-top of the egg comes swirling, curling tendrils of warm, rich red and orange tones, flowing here, zig-zagging there. But the movement in those lines feels orchestrated and purposeful somehow. Like a dance almost, as though it were moving to its own personal theme song. At least until these saturated colors come into contact with a sad little blob of pale grey-blue towards the bottom, disturbing the trail of vibrancy. It just throws everything off; the rhythm in which this egg lives its life, the pattern of this eggs behavior. Someone might get thrown out a window for this.
Bigger on the Inside Egg
Surely this undersized egg is too small to hold a dragon. Settled in the sands on its slightly broader end, this elongated ovoid sits upright, seeming blocky and angular. Coloured a dull midnight blue, the surface is highlighted with a band of irregular white markings that resemble lettering, and far from smooth - it seems to be pitted in a regular pattern of squares. A darker mark is just the shape of a keyhole, while near the top, a bright dab of electric blue almost seems to shine.
Star is a Munchkin Egg
It's gonna get a little weird, gonna get a little wild, this egg's not from around here, it's from another dimension! It's obvious this egg is here to have a good time, with riotous pastel and neon colors splashing across the surface in seemingly random patterns until you get up close. Is that a glowing blue worm? Or a pink, yellow and white star? What is this random red line shooting from what looks to be a canine pup's eyes? What is it with this egg, seriously?
From the sands below, Thus summoned, Tsiroth doesn't drag his feet this time around and arrives not long after Zymuraith has already begun to dig. He'll lumber onto those Sands with as much ego as ever, puffed up and proud as he warbles a sing-song greeting to the egg heavy gold. He's praising her, of course! Grating though his behaviour is, he's trying to be supportive (and not get kicked out seconds in, here!). Honest! Va'os is a little slower on arriving and at least looks decently put together by the time he joins Amani. One more plus is the Weyrleader doesn't appear drunk or hungover? Or he's doing a good job hiding it!
"Winter" is a very subjective thing and Odesse has apparently missed that memo, probably because the weather is still awfully pleasant. The dolphineer at least took the time to toss a tank top on over her swim gear before following the steady stream of folks up to the galleries to gawk at the latest eggs. She doesn't mind the crowd at all, elbowing her way in to claim a good seat that probably wasn't actually a seat but she'll wiggle her way in anyways before elbowing her new seat-neighbor. "Hey. I know a dolphin that's bettin' three seashells the other gold shows up too." For some reason, the older woman doesn't take the wager and just gives a stink eye to the blonde before scooching away. Odie shrugs and turns her attention back to the sands.
From the sands below, The Beetle and The Juice Egg
From the sands below, Say its name but once and ye shall be fine, say it twice, yer pushin' the line, say it thrice and tis only a matter of time… This egg gives off an eerie feel with it's convict stripes and deep shadows. Tis crowned with a bushy blond patch of what looks like thatchy hair and parts of it seem to rot into ugly shades of puss green and tobacco yellow. Purple snakes through here and there in bold and pastel lines as if the color itself drifts in and out of the known dimensions. It sits, patiently waiting with a sinister aura that might be considered a translucent green.
Novi walks in from the Hatching Caverns Entrance.
Having come directly from working in the deep dark depths of the storage caverns on the heels of her excited workers, Roheis looks a touch out of place with her stack of inventory sheets tucked under one arm and a pensive wrinkle to her brow. Sometimes just following the crowd is best and eventually the Assistant Headwoman is able to find herself a seat among the growing crowd. /Politely/, of course.
I don't understand that.
From the sands below, Zymuraith rumbles relatively gently to Tsiroth in the midst of her efforts, conveying to him through imagery what she means to do. It's sort of a rainbow she's meaning to make here. But the ends have to line up perfectly. She starts in on hollows for the next arc, allowing space for the bronze to help as she carefully maneuvers to place the new arrivals. Meanwhile, Amani gives Va'os a wave as he enters, offering up a smirk once he's near. "Here we go again, hm?"
From the sands below, Evka steps in to watch from the entryway of the sands. She'd seen Va'os outside and wondered. Her curiosities are confirmed when Zymuraith lays her first eggs to the sands. Evka will hover here for now, not wanting to disturb either Gold or Weyrwoman.
From the sands below, The Elder Sign Egg
From the sands below, The choppy dark waves of a storm ridden sea cover the shell of this ovoid, crashing and wrapping around into a green glowing portal vortex at it's crown. From here, sea green tentacles emerge, coiling, seeking //something to wrap their legs around. Something is coming through the portal into this realm, something old and ancient, and those tentacles are just the beginning.//
From the sands below, Darting Between the Cosmos Egg
From the sands below, Shrouded in mystery and allure, this egg would rather its watchers simply not know that it is even there. Wrapped in a darkest black shell, it fades into the background. Small pinpricks of lighter color mar the darkness, giving the hint of connection that are almost too faint to trace from one point to another.
From the sands below, Tick Tock Don't Forget Your Towel Egg
From the sands below, There's a sense of hurry about this multi-colored egg. A get up and go shown in the busy swirl of orange and red. Confusion hints in the bright neon greens and blues that interrupt the swirls as if trying to stop them from their go go go. Tying all of them together are small lines of black that provide some kind of oval structure but also bring to mind the idea that perhaps they should just stop and get a drink for a bit.
From the sands below, Burn, Baby, Burn Egg
From the sands below, Orange and red swirl together to create the illusion of flame that licks up this egg. Grays and blacks dot the dome as they almost seem to extend beyond. The bottom of this egg is a strange white and tan jumble, almost seeming geometric in the way that they are settled.
From the sands below, Anarchy's Best Bud Egg
From the sands below, Cheerfully viridescent, this egg sits patiently waiting. Curved shades crisscross the backdrop to create texture and depth. Here and there black and white specks give even more definition and draw the eye to them. There is so much to get lost in if one spends too much time looking.
From the sands below, Ice to See You Egg
From the sands below, It is not smooth. Not even a little bit, this egg. It has blunted ridges and spikes, each hiding the other to create the textured outside. As if to strive to make up for it's strange texture it's color is pleasant to the eye. Light blues and whites work together to give the illusion of softness turned hard.
From the sands below, Tsiroth can and will definitely help if Zymuraith is entrusting him to it! One would think he's old hat at it by now… but then no one is surprised if the bronze seems absent minded. Distracted by the first few eggs already clutched, he'll be slow at his task, less someone give him a good 'ol nudge to get his behind into gear! Va'os just pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment; he's probably getting the brunt of the commentary, musical and verbal, from his bronze. "Almost becoming routine, eh?" he jokingly quips to Amani, along with a smirk as he lowers his hand and nods towards the busy queen. "She's handling it well."
Pshaw, manners. Who needs them. Odesse's jaw is gaping as Zymuraith lays not one, not three, but SIX eggs nearly in a row and she reaches out to tug at whoever is next to her's sleeve. "DID YA SEE THAT?" Like, anybody would have missed it. "That's gotta hurt." She winces at the thought of trying to lay not just one egg, but an entire clutch.
What's a miner to do on an evening such as this? See what all the hullaballoo is, that's what. Rhuordian strolls in with a smile on his face and looks around, as if just passin' through. He'll shuffle through the crowd with a little shimmy and try not to bump into people. He's sort of a mountain of a man-boy so, 'scuse him, pardon him, behind you miss! AH! A spare seat. He's lucky enough to get a view from near the rear, which is fine for him. Best not to block anyone's view. Eggs! How exciting!
From the sands below, Zymuraith certainly isn't surprised. She'll even give Tsiroth a gentle but pointed nip when he slows down a little too much. She's on a schedule, here! Once that next arc of eggs is laid down, she starts in on a third, making space for one more egg than the last. Amani lifts an amused brow at the sight of Va'os' nose-bridge-pinching and lets her smirk become a smile, sighing as she looks out at the quirkily-colored spread her life mate has laid out already. "I'm thinking it already is," she answers drolly. "She seems bigger than last time. I think she's carrying more." At least, everyone is hoping to Faranth that she is! Glancing over toward the entrance, she spots Evka's familiar figure and grins, gesturing for the brownrider to join them.
Already transfixed by the rainbow on display Roheis is quiet in the crowd, but occasionally leans one way or the other to whisper with a neighbor or gesture at a particular egg with an appreciative nod.
From the sands below, Odd Orb: Strange Oddy-see? Egg
From the sands below, It's an elongated ovoid, thinner and taller than most of its fellows. The coloration is peculiar, with a mottled lilac on top that shifts to a wrinkled-looking emerald green. The green transitions into a greenish-blue before darkening into utter obscurity. To either side of the ovoid are two bold, yellow circles that look distressingly like eyes. The yellow darkens to orange before making way for stark, black circles that look unnervingly like pupils that seem to follow the viewer no matter where they go. At the bottom of the egg are a pair of beige Xs, their purpose a mystery, but somehow unsettling.
From the sands below, Ultimately Unethical Evolutions Egg
From the sands below, The base of this egg appears normal, mottled and beige and nondescript. But as one looks up, toward the apex, the illusion is quickly broken. Serpentine veins, as red as blood, seem to emerge from the edge of normalcy and twist, spreading swiftly over the surface like a knotted mass of glistening tissue. The experimental obscenity of its metamorphosis coalesces at the top, with red giving way to blues and greens and purples that marble together with startling beauty. The very tip of the egg is a pure white, hinting at the potential for perfection just below the surface.
From the sands below, All Become Flawless Egg
From the sands below, Cloaked in darkness along curved edges, only the faint glimmer of chrome and metal grey hint at some distant structure and debris littered stage. However that is not the focus of this egg, but rather the looming, towering form of living flame and monstrosity resting almost dead centre. Vivid and sinister reds and oranges, almost blinding bright, twist and coil on themselves in grotesque manners. Claws, teeth and the stuff of nightmares form and reform under the shift of light. Yet at the base of it, standing defiant despite being surrounded, is one lone figure. White-clad in tattered cloth, its head held high and arms held out stiffly in challenge, unafraid as it takes its final stand against its foe on a single shred of hope.
From the sands below, Danger, Will Robinson! Danger! Egg
From the sands below, Seemingly coated in a protective layer of otherworldly metal, this ovoid sits silent and waiting in shades of metallic grey and has a chromatic rainbow when the light hit's it just right. At it's center lies a whirling vortex of red, a warning of danger to come. It radiates outward, warm, yet leaving a sense of unease.
From the sands below, Mrs. Frisby's Bane Egg
From the sands below, It starts with a sickening green glow within, a neon chartreuse that emanates from the thorn wrapped shell of this ovoid. It peeks from behind forest green leaves and sharp thorns, through the blood red petals of roses in their prime. All except, for the dark shadow at it's base. A way in perhaps? A dark secret? Who knows?
From the sands below, Hexxus' Revenge Egg
From the sands below, On the surface, this egg is a thing of beauty, a rain forest painted across the front facing side of its shell. Glimmers of light flash through the trees, racing with avians with plumage of every color, some riding upon insect like creatures. They race for the dark side, a side where smoggy browns, sickly greens, smoky greys and a thick, black sort of oil threaten to consume everything in its path.
From the sands below, Catch the Wind, Rise from Sight Egg
From the sands below, Watercolor hues come to live over the widely curved, large egg and from afar it looks nothing more than a soft riot of colors. Closer inspection will bring minute details into view of a whimsical landscape, filled with serpentine rivers, rolling green hills, oddly hued forests and just an abundance of life. It's alluring, if not magical and even the swath of crystalline blue skies seem to pull one in with wonder — or perhaps it's the shadow of some winged beasts not unlike Pern's own soaring high and out of sight over the lands below?
From the sands below, That nip will do it and Tsiroth stops gawking and gets back to work, doing his best to keep up with Zymuraith's pace but not get in the gold's way. Va'os chuckles dryly, glancing sidelong to Amani now that he doesn't have to be so concerned about his bronze's 'antics'. "Even if it's just a few more, that'll be a blessing in disguise! What're you guessing at?" His mouth quirks into a vague grin. "Just out of curiosity." No wagers necessary!
From the sands below, Atta boy! Content that her mate is sufficiently attentive now, Zymuraith gets that third arc in order and starts in on the next…though only dig a couple of hollows for the moment. Amani presses her lips together thoughtfully, a little hum vibrating her throat as dark eyes narrow subtly at her lifemate. "I'm guessing forty," she answers, noting the slight change in Zymuraith's next set and wondering what she could possibly be getting up to now.
From the sands below, The Sum of All Evils Egg
From the sands below, Perhaps if the centre focus of this egg wasn't so captivating, one would be able to glimpse the other details. A hint of a gilded box, the velvety fabric inside to protect the artifact within. All of that is nothing of importance however, compared to the item within and to which absorbs everything else around it of significance. Brightest of greens, lime and neon and near-white, all coalesce into a perfectly round orb. Set against such a dark backdrop, it almost glows with an eerie siren's call. Dare you touch it?
From the sands below, Filled With Determination Egg
From the sands below, Let the other eggs have their fanciful forays into color or distracting displays of dazzling daring do. This one is just there. It's relatively plain in appearance, a stark white ovoid with a bright red heart - two top curves leading to a point at the bottom - comfortably resting in the middle of it. It's a stoic egg, unmoved and untroubled by those around it. It doesn't make demands or insist upon itself. It has its own journey to go on, just like all the rest. But what's inside? Good? Evil? No matter what, it will be filled with determination.
From the sands below, Tsiroth rumbles quietly when it appears that Zymuraith may be slowing down a bit but otherwise just keeps an eye on the young gold. Similarly, Va'os' gaze drifts out across the Sands and likely wondering the same. He nods, almost absentmindedly, to Amani before he pulls his thoughts back and blinks to refocus on her. "Forty is still a generous amount! Guess we'll see?"
From the sands below, Evka is still in the entranceway, leaning against the wall and watching as Zymuraith slows down. She's never been this up close and personal to a clutching before. It's something to see.
From the sands below, After just two eggs, Zymuraith is clearly working on another…but once the third is done, she suddenly moves away from her current arc, a melodious trill filling the cavern as she carefully shifts the most recent egg away. There's a slightly higher spot front and center of the arcs, and she takes a moment to pile the sand a little higher before giving the egg some final nudges into place. Only then does she reveal what's likely obvious by now…though it still makes Amani gape. "Va'os…" She almost absently tugs on his arm. "Look…looklooklook!"
From the sands below, Me Protect You Egg
From the sands below, Sand and starlight swirl, glittering, over the entirety of this shell, glowing golden with the coalescing of the purest energies of existence. Upon closer inspection, subtle striations reveal themselves - alternating lines both wavy and straight wrapping around the broad base, flecked with emerald and sapphire, serpentine verticals shot through with ruby and copper, and more undulating bands spiraling upward with brassy brightness. At its peak, all congeal into a luminous platinum that seems to burst forth, blinding, toward the heavens - a protecting radiance that defies all encroaching gloom.
From the sands below, Evka can't help it. SHe'd missed Amani's earlier gesture, but now she has to get a closer look at the most recent egg. Whilst Zymuraith is distracted with it, she darts across the sands to join Amani. "Is that what I think it is?"
From the sands below, Va'os looks away for a second and suddenly he's being tugged at by Amani and Evka has rushed over to join them too. "…what?" He takes a moment to catch up and when he does, it's just one more blink before it registers. Then he's grinning like a fool, amusement thick in his voice. "Well shi—" Tsiroth drowns out the rest with a burst of rumbling sounds, thankfully, as it's probably not polite in the least bit what the Weyrleader says in the spur of the moment. One smug bronze, coming up!
Even someone not from 'round these parts can catch on pretty quick and it's only with minimal cue-reading that Roheis figures out the gravity of the current developments. Clapping her hands together in delight the normally distant woman's face breaks into a warm smile. "Oh, wonderful!" She exclaims, though quietly because she's not going to be that person whooping in the stands.
From the sands below, Sorry, Tsiroth, be as smug as you like…but it looks like you'll be finishing that arc on your own! Zymuraith will lay the next round of eggs and help nudge them along now, even placing the ones nearest the ends. But she is suddenly extremely broody over the gleaming egg that now has center stage and is going to have the bronze do a little more grunt work. "Oh, yes!" It's an exclamation meant to cover an answer to Evka's question and just the general joy of the moment. Amani breaks away from Va'os and Evka for a moment to dash over to Zymuraith, who lowers her head between her efforts to accept her rider throwing herself against the great golden nose in an embrace. "Look what you made, love! You're amazing!" And so is Tsiroth, but he's not hers and so doesn't get the brunt of the goldrider's enthusiasm. But it's soon back to work, and Amani backs away in deference to her life mate's practicality. "I was hoping…but I didn't think she'd do it until she was a little older!"
Rhuordian ooos and ahhs with the rest of the crowd, particularly the one the gold seems to favor. But he's just a country boy here to watch the show, don't mind him none.
Odesse lets out a sharp whistle as the rumor immediately starts that THERE'S GOLD ON THEM THERE SANDS. And it's not just Zymuraith's shiny hides. "I don't know why I even bother bettin' with dolphins. Now I owe 'im like ten fishes."
From the sands below, Singularities and Espers to Destruction Egg
From the sands below, Chrome and gunmetal grey form the base for this large egg in towering spires. Each is speckled with an untold amount of 'lights' in muted yellows, while greens, blues and even purples cast highlights onto the facade of others. It creates the illusion of some grand futuristic city like no other known and yet beneath the veneer of wealth and technology is the dystopian underbelly. Where buildings become crowded, faded and worn in stark contrast to the neon signs and imagery that is almost garish in comparison. Through it all, roadways cut paths through the chaos, where the silhouette of men on two-wheeled machines ride, the neon orange and yellow trail of tail-lights marking their passing.
From the sands below, Oh! What a Nice Egg
From the sands below, Oh! What is this? It's a lovely, large, mostly round egg, yes. A perfect egg to just roll around! What's that? Eggs aren't supposed to be rolled? Well, it looks like this one must have been rolled around some. What might have been perfect, horizontal bands of pastel rainbow hues are utterly marred by strange shapes that look like they've been stuck haphazardly on there. A rider's knot, a bronze firelizard, a pink sock, a whole string of iridescent vtols, and so much more appear to be scattered on the surface. The longer one looks, the more one will see strange shapes of things that clearly must have been picked up by the egg when no one was looking. It could be bigger, though.
From the sands below, Neon Dreams And Bloodied Scenes Egg
From the sands below, Electrified pink and turquoise seize this egg in a garish display for dominance, sizzling in their eye-searing and nigh-luminous glory. But it's not a war between pink and turquoise, oh no. The colors don't want anyone to see what's just on the other side. Look at those bright colors. Don't follow the shadow that curves along the side, a shadow that looks suspiciously like a human with an avian's head of some sort. Just a slight lean to a side and all of it comes into view: an emulated web of cracks across the untouched surface, the carnal splash of arterial blood, streaking down the back and pooling, thick and black, at the base. Simulated, yes, but no less unsettling for the unexpected sight of it.
From the sands below, Losing All Hope is Freedom Egg
From the sands below, There is little to say about this oddly shaped egg, other than to remark on it's near uniform color of pink. It's not a garish pink or bright, blinding pink. It's the soft pink, more of a rose and the subtle nuances in change almost give it a texture. Texture one would expect from a bar of soap. Surely someone's not having a massive prank on behalf of Southern Weyr? No, it's definitely an egg, if soap-like in appearance. There looks to be something carved into the smooth pink surface, but it remains too blurred and buried under the sand to make out.
From the sands below, DO NOT DRINK Egg
From the sands below, Rainbow hues both tantalizing and cautionary swirl across this shell. Lemon yellow spirals with lime green which merges into berry blue and bright cherry red until they all form a fantastic psychedelic display. Punching through the riot of color, occasional blots of what could possibly look like an actual piece of fruit emerges. Carefully concealed under the rest of the bright display, this egg hides a hidden secret. A tiny black blemish looks suspiciously like a skull and crossbones, but that couldn't be right, could it?
From the sands below, Say What Again! I dare you Egg
From the sands below, Black ink stains both ends of this egg, broken only by a startling slash of blood red on an angle. It's as though a page has been torn to reveal another beneath, the ragged edges rimmed in greyish white. Bright yellow, stark and contrasting, marr the surface of both colors but the symbols they make are difficult to decipher being buried as they are in the sand. Near the base and off centered are three items: a thin looking book spread open and face down, a metallic looking weapon, sleek and dangerous and a burning cigarette, the trail of smoke from the one end twisting its way upwards to nothing but emptiness.
From the sands below, Whaaat? Tsiroth doesn't get to just boast and brag? He'll be keeping the worst of his grumblings to himself but he'll get back to work in settling the latest eggs to their proper spots. Zymuraith can be as broody as she wants! He'll celebrate later! Va'os can only shrug his shoulders to Amani's wondering. "Who knows? But this is going to be great…" For morale, for starters! He likely has more thoughts and theories but he'll keep that to himself for now! Don't mind his beaming grin.
From the sands below, Evka 's eyes nearly bulge as Zymuraith lays yet another entire arc of eggs. "Look at her go! You've got one amazing gold there Amani." This is said when the goldrider returns and Evka hugs her friend in congratulations.
From the sands below, Zymuraith's next bunch continues without interruption…but rather than making a new arc, she adds one to each end of the existing arcs. Amani can only watch, blearily amused, before realizing she's being hugged. "That she is," she replies to Evka, and then grins up at Va'os, whom she suddenly hugs tightly. "It's going to be amazing."
From the sands below, Carry On My Wayward Son Egg
From the sands below, Pitch black shadows of the darkest night form the basis of this egg. From deep within, additional smoke rises from the smoldering fires of a battle that's never ending. Through this chaos, occasional glimpses of ivory fangs or metallic blades flash along with the briefest visions of anything else that might go bump in the night. While this could be an overwhelming terror, there is a small flicker of hope on the shell. A small flicker of incandescent light has been captured. Whether it will grow or what it will do, only time will tell.
From the sands below, SPOONS! Egg
From the sands below, Inky darkness serves as a backdrop to an odd pattern upon this little ovoids surface. The small shapes of white lines with one rounded end look strangely spoon-like. Theres no real rhyme or reason to them; theyre in all directions, pointing every which way, left and right and rising and falling. Its a jubilant display of revelry over the solemn blackness that was really trying to be taken seriously.
From the sands below, It's Quick, It's Clean, It's Pure Egg
From the sands below, This electric blue egg could change your life, rest assured. Within the swirling fluorescent midnight and neon aqua of this shell is what you need to change inside, to feel alive. Its so bright, it practically glows. Let it draw you in til you cant feel nothin at all.
From the sands below, Send Love Through Egg
From the sands below, A harrowing scene plays out across the eggs surface; pulsing lava and hellfire twisted into a grotesque and monstrous form, bulging muscles and razor spines, gnarled claws and gaping maw seeming to stretch down towards something at the base of the egg. Its a patch of white amidst the flames, containing two small black dots. They seem so tiny and insignificant compared to the rage around them, and yet it will never quite reach them so long as love holds out.
From the sands below, Hail to the King Egg
From the sands below, A lone dark smudge-like figure sets itself in the middle of this gloomy colored egg, fighting back against all the evil it has to offer: black spiky wooded trees slice up on the shell, an ominous cabin-like structure, and murky shadows that look like the dead walking among its surface. It all erupts out from the bottom third of the shell, as if it was a source of this malignant creations. It is the color of human flesh, leathery yet wrinkled, forming what almost looks like a face glaring out, daring anyone to come open it.
From the sands below, Wondrous Boat Ride Egg
From the sands below, Deep stygian darkness coats this egg in viscous shadow, drowning and smothering all light. Nauseating patterns of caustic green, pustular yellow, inflamed rage red, and deep bruise blue combine together in a swirling mass of confusion. But there on one side is a completely matte patch of brown in a vaguely triangular shape, much like a childs drawing of a rowboat, captained by humanoid blob in bright purple, sailing their way through the disorienting chaos without a care in the world.
From the sands below, Hounds at the Watchtower Egg
From the sands below, Downy white snow coats the skeletal branches of tall thin blue-white trees in a silent winter forest. Though the trees are tall a lonely ominous tower of gray pitted stone dominates much of the face of this egg, jutting up into a fathomless steel grey sky. Upon closer examination small shapes can be seen among the squared crenelations at the towers peak. Three black figures with oddly canine shaped heads stand sentry here - but are they keeping something out or something in?
From the sands below, To The Pain Egg
From the sands below, This ovoid seems to have been through the mill whilst being clutched. It's black and white surface looks pitted and pocked, and it lays on its side limply, as if close to wasting away. It's smaller than it's brethren, waif like in its appearance. However, there's a sense of purpose to this egg, like it hasn't quite given up yet, a warm red heart at its center glowing brightly for hope, for love, for the growing life within.
From the sands below, Hugs all around! Va'os wasn't expecting it, but he'll take it (and return it) before stepping back from Amani and even flashing a grin to Evka. "She's still clutching more eggs too! And we've got a second clutch to follow… this is all promising." It won't fix things currently but… there's hope down the road, at least! Tsiroth keeps pace to his work, pleased as punch at the turn of events and likely insufferable for the next few days.
Osarlio walks in from the Hatching Caverns Entrance.
From the sands below, Zymuraith is still clutching more eggs, but she's looking quite tired at this point. Another round is laid, and she starts to add singles to the ends of the arcs again. A bit more rearranging here, evening out there, and she finally has four arcs that are even to her contentment, all sitting guard before the glittering gold egg that she now curls heavily around with a deep sigh. Her work is done. Now to rest! Amani sighs along with her life mate, grinning and rubbing at her eyes a bit. "Forty two. We couldn't have asked for better." She doesn't feel she'll ever stop being proud of this. Right alongside Zymuraith.
From the sands below, Deal With The Devil Egg
From the sands below, This egg is downright dizzying, if one looks at it for too long! Like a tumbling die, it has so many sides and faces that a person would go mad trying to make sense of it all. Here and there, black circles look like the pips on a die, but all the sides are snake-eyes. Fleeting images of dragonpoker suits - hammers, sheaves, and dragons - float across the base and swirl up between the pips in dizzying array. Is that a flush? Or is that hand a bust? Better wait to see how the die- er, egg rolls to find out.
From the sands below, Shielded By Sunfire Egg
From the sands below, One whole side of this slightly elongated and upright egg is occupied with a perfectly round disk of jade green. Up close, it looks as if it's engraved with strange markings and symbols, though all of them are nonsense. The surface is as smooth as any egg's should be, the engravings an illusion in their own right. Radiating out from that disk are flares and ribbons of red and yellow and orange that spread out in flame-like tongues to wrap most of the way around the shell. It's only on the other side that one will find what the disk is shielding - a cunning, white canine of some sort, stylistically outlined, as if with a brush heavy with ink.
From the sands below, Is Fate Unchangeable? Egg
From the sands below, Something strange must have happened to this egg during its forming, for it seems to be comprised of two different shells. One half glimmers and shines with opalescence, shades of pale gold and the pinks and lavenders of a gentle twilight. The other half is all sharp white edges and black curls of flame dusted with a mist of blood-red. And everywhere they meet, they clash violently in an eternal push and pull, bleeding into each other, simultaneously attracted and repulsed. Over the entire eggs surface are the tiniest specks of silver and gold, like so many little stars pulled into some great cosmic battle.
From the sands below, Happy Happy, Joy Joy Egg
From the sands below, As eggs go, this one is a little on the skinny side, but still well-balanced at the base. The top is stark and nigh metallic, a gunmetal grey with yellow circles at the very apex and on either side. Just below, a pair of pink circles lurk like eyes, wide and unblinking in a maniacal stare. A distorted red shape might pretend to be a nose, warped unpleasantly over an even more unsettling shape. Below is a wretched curve, squared and jagged at the lower edge to shape out a cruel crescent in eggshell white. The emulated smile is pulled too tight at one side, lending it a sinister, if not utterly mad, air. The rest of the egg is a distressing, fleshy beige hue.
From the sands below, This is a Triumph Egg
From the sands below, It starts off stark laboratory white, clean and uniform, and slowly dissolves into some form of chaotic puzzle. Calculated and yet puzzling lines draw the eye, guiding the viewer where it wants you to go, or forcing you to figure a new path. The occasional circular stain of orange and blue pop in and out on the shell, transporting to a whole new puzzle. At the end of the maze, half-hidden by the sands, what looks like a delicious pastry waiting just for you. Or is it just a trick of the eye?
From the sands below, Relax, It's Just An Egg
From the sands below, This egg is a bit on the wider side, rounder than it is ovoid. Colors blotch their way across the majority of it, shaping out some utterly nonsensical scene with no real beginning, end, or meaning. There are no truly dominant colors and one would be hard pressed to describe the mottling on it as something that resembles, well, anything of value. But, at the base, a band of black rings all the way around, with a scalloped edge pointing upward. Though it appears uniform, there are three figures clustered to one side: a too-round head, what looks like someone pointing at something, and a net with a beak attached? It's hard to say, as the figures are also fully black, a tableau in silhouette that makes no more sense than whatever the pointing figure is indicating.
From the sands below, Alone in a Lilac Wood Egg
From the sands below, The circle of white upon this eggs rather pointed top might remind one of a little pile of snow gently bathed in the light of the moon. But the rest of the shell is all springtime; swathes of brilliantly bright grassy-green, patches of the dark shadowy greens of shaded thickets, the silvery-blue slivers of light and sky that peek through the treetops. And dotted all over are fluffy little splotches of lilac, racing up and down like wildflowers, so vivid and yet so delicate. If you look closely, you might even catch small specks of brown or black amidst the bright colors, like glimpses of the shy little animals that dwell in a forests depths.
As life would have it, Ulrika's late to the clutching - but duty is what it is and she couldn't properly pull away before. She steps into the galleries just as the last eggs are laid and she pauses, out of the way of others trickling in, to do a count of the eggs. A low whistle of awe escapes the guard, her eyebrows lifting a touch for the sight laid out on the sands. There are no words - and that might be for the better.
Rhuordian , seeing that the Queen is finished, stands and moves to join others shuffling out the door. There will be a celebration tonight. There's hope for the weyr on this clutch and this simple miner man is going to have a drink to toast the new dragon mother. All Hail Zymuraith!
From the sands below, Evka snugs her bestie and smiles when Zumuraith seems to be done laying. "Congratulations Amani! I'm so happy for you, and for Zymuraith. I must get back to things now, I have a few duties yet to attend to." She gives yet another hug, then dashes off to get things done before bed.
And just like that it's over and done with and the Queen is taking a well-deserved rest. Roheis rises to join those filtering out. No doubt she'll be needed to attend to the celebrations.
Osarlio - not wearing a bucket on his head this time, you're welcome - charges his way up the stairs with eager curiosity. He draws up short when he reaches a spot with a decent view of the sands, only to discover there are already eggs there. "Oh man, is she already done pooping them out? Why didn't someone tell me earlier?" Someone probably did, but then he took a nap. "Wait, is there a party?"
Probably to the relief of those folks she plagued with her attendance, Odesse doesn't follow the crowd heading towards the living caverns. Nope. Once the egg laying is done, she's off as well, bouncing down towards the beach. As she goes she does take a little pity on the late Osarlio. "There's probably like… a dozen. Ye just gotta know where to look!" That's all the hints he's getting!
Oh. Oh honey, no. Roheis spots a certain someone and overhears a familiar voice and can't help but sigh. "That's not how it works, I don't think," she'll comment tactfully to the lost Osarlio. "And yes I imagine there will be a party down in the Living Caverns." A fair guess, seeing as she's never actually attended a clutching party herself.
The guard sucks her teeth thoughtfully as she studies the arrangement of eggs, only to cut a look to the young man that arrived not long after she did. Ulrika nods once to him as well, even as she turns to leave herself. "Aye," seems sufficient to cover both of his questions, especially with someone else elaborating on the latter point. It's a solid clutch and that's good enough for her. She offers a salute to the clutchparents and their riders, though it might go unseen. Another salute is offered to Roheis before she departs to join some manner of festivities.
The helpful advice of Roheis comes just a moment too late, because before he hears that, Osarlio hears Odesse advising about a dozen parties. Why have one when you can have A DOZEN? "Did you hear that, Ro-" He trails off, forgetting more than just the first syllable of her name. "Ro-hee?" He offers an apologetic grin, before charging forward. "A dozen parties. I'm going to hit that one in the Living Caverns first, and then find the other eight parties! Do you want ot come?" He seems utterly oblivious the fact that she might be anything less than thrilled to spend time with him.
From the sands below, Evka returns, sending a firelizard off to deliver the message.
Roheis returns the salute from Ulrika, smiling warmly - perhaps because she's doing her best to keep a polite smile on her face, all things considered. She'll skip right over correcting Osarlio's math. "I'll likely be busy with just the one." Likely less on the partying end and more dealing with the logistics in the background. "But you have fun," and with that she'll give him a friendly pat on the arm and head in that direction.
"YOU TOO," Osarlio bellows in a way that's way too loud for the space they're in. Sorry, Zymuraith. "I'll get you a drink!" Or he'll just have a drink for her. Or both! He cheerily waves her out, before remembering that he's leaving as well, and making a swift exit where he only once nearly tumbles all the way down the stairs.