Ginger, Talya, emits/cameo by Amani


Candidates have to take the opportunity to be among the eggs when they can - even when the day decide to be scorching.


It is afternoon of the nineteenth day of the fourth month of the fourteenth turn of the 12th pass.


Hatching Sands, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 23 Jun 2018 06:00


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"We'll probably be keeping this short, considering you're going to be dripping in no time."


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.

And suddenly, Southern forgets that it's autumn. It's a sweltering afternoon, a strikingly sunny day coming along to try and bake away some of the moisture from the near-perpetual rains. This ramps up the humidity, of course…and turns the Sands into an oven. Amani is waiting at the cavern entrance for the latest group of Candidates to be brought to meet, or reacquaint themselves with, Zymuraith's eggs, dressed in a skirt and tank that are far more suited to summer. "We'll probably be keeping this short," she informs them once they arrive, "considering you're going to be dripping in no time. Still, make sure you bow, and don't rush around. She'll notice." And then Amani will get to hear about it all evening…not that she isn't used to it at this point.

Ginger does have a long-sleeved shirt as part of her attire, but its sleeves are currently knotted around her waist so that she's wearing only the skimpiest of tops, originally under the shirt. She still looks hot and not a little sweaty. She says, "Yes, weyrwoman," in her best dutiful-candidate tones, and heads onto the Sands. A deep bow is made in Zymuraith's direction before she gets anywhere near the eggs, and then she's advancing towards them. But what to do? Revisit those she like last time, or try something new? She looks from one to another, finally chooses to approach Flying Too High Egg, and runs her fingers over the feather-like surface.

Do you feel it, Ginger? The tickling brush of feathers, climbing your arm from your fingertips, stirring the beating of your heart with…something. Something brilliant! Something hopeful and light, lifting you up toward the brightness of the sun, higher and higher. Isn’t this where you want to be? Is it where you’re meant to be? Ah, but that heat, that height… They could be your undoing. There is risk in all things, including passion and hope. Worthwhile? Only you can decide such a thing. The heat wins this one, the feathers scattering apart in a flash of glinting gold, leaving you back where you’ve been standing all along.

Talya is probably one of the few that is enjoying the spontaneous summer-like day, dressed in airy clothing but still protected from the heat of the sands. She shifts uneasily from one leg to the other, being escorted back to the caverns with her fellow candidates. "It ain't too bad," she remarks with a smirk at the heat. "But yes ma'am." She gives a proper bow to goldrider and then to the clutchparents as well, just putting off actually going towards the eggs. Unlike the last time, she's trying to actually look at the eggs before making a choice, hoping to find some clues to what they will be like among their shells up close. Finally she lays a hand on Written In the Stars Egg, gently caressing a fiery orb on it.

Night falls suddenly around you, and there’s nothing to be seen all around. But up… Ah, look up, Talya! The stars shimmer with an almost aching beauty, winking down at you as though they know something you don’t. Is it just your imagination, or do some seem to have silver drawn between them? Ancient, unfathomable patterns insist upon being deciphered, shining and pulsing down at you, pleading and offering. Are you the one to read them? How far will you go for the answer? One by one the stars wink out…and the night lifts, the heat filtering in once more.

Ginger turns her face upwards, even though her eyes are closed and stay that way until the contact is broken. Well, that was interesting! She looks appreciatively at this egg: even illusory feathers have the power of flight, it seems. "Worthwhile, yes," she murmurs. But the moment has clearly passed, and she moves on. Nearby is Bane of the Supernatural Egg, almost metallic in appearance, though definitely not gold. She traces the subtle markings with a fingertip before laying her right hand flat against the rust-marked shell, and then adding the left. Will an egg so reminiscent of iron be welcoming to a worker of metal?

A metalworker’s hands may know cold iron well, but this iron does not yet know you, Ginger. It weighs you despite its own weight, heavy eyes inspecting, shadow and mist shrouding you all the while, drawing you closer…and then a feeling of safety settles. Familiarity. The fog recedes. You are worthy, it seems…but of what? To be shaped by the hammer that might lie within this leaden shell, or to go on carrying your own, shaping your own life? Could you manage both? A point to ponder as you’re settled back onto the forge-heat of the Sands, the cool embrace of safety fading away.

Talya chose correctly in her first egg this time on the sands, giving an actual fond smile. Her head even tilts back slightly, her eyes closed… but a little furrow between her brow as if trying to determine just what exactly she is looking at. It is over too soon and she gives a little sigh. "A little longer and I could have figured it out," she muses to herself. She has to move on, worried about lingering too long at one of the eggs. She doesn't stray far this time, barely giving In Bocca al Lupo Egg before she is petting the surface. It looked furry and therefore it is a good egg, right?

Just because it’s furry doesn’t mean it’s friendly, Talya. The air around you vibrates, a low thrum that sounds uncannily like a growl tickling your ears. A chill races up your spine, goosebumps rising all over your arms. The heat of the Sands grows until you’re seeing through a mirage, a dark, indistinct shape rising before you. But is it as monstrous as it seems? It could be a trick of the eyes… Go forward, and see if the thing you fear just might be more afraid of you instead. Do you dare? Or does that foreboding growl root you to the spot? What looms in the mirage fades, the heat dying back to that of the Sands alone.

Ginger withdraws her hands reluctantly, perhaps spurred on by the traces of irritating redness that still mark the back of her fingers after her encounter with a certain unwelcome plant in the herb garden. She rubs her fingers against the heel of her other hand before thrusting both hands into her trouser pockets in an attempt not to scratch. They stay there as she moves away from Bane of the Supernatural Egg and searches for another that she's not yet encountered. There. That one. Hands stay in pockets until she's ready to lay them gently on the peaches-and-cream shell of Fukuryuu Dragon Puppy Egg.

There’s a sleek softness that greets your fingertips alongside a bracing breeze, driving the heat from your skin and snatching your breath away. The sense of wonder that enfolds you carries you high and far across a sunset-painted sky. You are welcome, Ginger, so very welcome! To come and be close, to stand near, to take a chance; something knows you are brave and good to have done so. You’ve luck upon your fingers now, you know. Perhaps you’ll be able to take it with you once you leave…and leave you must, for the welcome cannot last forever. You’re settled gently back upon the ground, this egg departing from your mind with an affectionate brush of a furry…head?

Talya gives a small shiver of fear even though her hand still remains in contact with the egg that she is at. She does give it a glare, as if trying to dare it to attack, before she steps away. "You'd think some of these were housing a feline instead." She gives the big egg a look around, keeping her distance cautiously. Just an egg, no longer feeling like she was its prey. "I bet you're gonna be a bronze, as big as you are too." Maybe she can get some bets in before the hatching, though probably barred from it considering she was standing for the clutch. She gives her other candidates a look to see if they are having similar reactions, moving away from the darker shelled eggs before settling next at one that was free of candidates, Five Fingers Against the Eye Egg. She rests her own finger along one of the large finger-like streaks.

Look alive, little Guard, for you are alone and weaponless with no cover in a cold desert night. Here, you are watched, a baleful eye cast upon you, weighing all you’ve done wrong and failed to do, prepared to condemn… But stand fast, Talya, and keep your hand upon this warmth and color. Close your fingers and let it light your fist, your own five fingers made powerful to strike the evil away. Close your eyes, and breathe deep; the sunlight infuses you, the scent of spices fills your nostrils, protection enfolds and drives that watcher back. Now you are safe. Now you belong, and nothing will ever change that…if only you will trust in the feeling and carry it with you are let go.

Ginger positively beams at this egg, and caresses its shell for a while before she finally and reluctantly leaves it, all thoughts of itchy fingers gone for the moment. On to another, though her slightly distant gaze and dreamy smile might suggest that her thoughts are still with the last. Ah, but here's that nice blue egg that she encountered last time. She eyes it speculatively for a moment before stepping forward for another meeting with Five Fingers Against the Eye Egg. This time it's just her fingertips that rest upon the shell.

Back again, red-headed one? Are you feeling more confident this time, wandering the narrow, sandy path that twists between spice-laden stalls and lantern-hung facades. But so many watch from the shadows, calling out, eyes following… How will you know which to trust, which to turn to and which to avoid? It’s so easy, Ginger - the answer is beneath your palm. You are kept in an unseen hand, after all, and it has never left you. Walk onward with all hope, and trust in what is already there…back to the Sands and beyond.

Was the egg trying to make her feel good about herself? Because Talya is suddenly judging herself, and she's the worst judge possible. She doesn't immediately move away though, her frown growing deeper as the feelings change. Still, she gives a heavy sigh and gives her head a shake. "Thank you though," she tells the egg softly for the feelings of safety, belonging. But when she moves away she doesn't look so certain about that. She gives Ginger a nod and tries for a smile, turns more into a wry smirk again as she moves away to let the other candidate have her turn. The Guard-turned-candidate is going to linger on the sidelines now, needing a brain break from the feelings she is getting from the eggs, until she can thank the weyrwoman and slip back to the barracks.

Ginger shakes her head in wonder. "You're a strange one," she murmurs. "Feels like you've got a whole world inside that head of yours. Or maybe Igen Bazaar." Still, she removes her hands and looks round. The candidates have been here a while; she nods to one who passes, without speaking, still reflecting on her encounters. She looks towards Amani to see if the goldrider seems ready to end the session yet.

Yes, it's about time to call and end to this one. There are Candidates looking very droopy by this point, and Zymuraith is circling around to keep an even sharper eye on the lot of them. One of them might pass out and collapse against one of her eggs, after all…but really, she is watching them. She cares! Even when she's broody. Altogether, it's enough for Amani to gather them all together and lead them back to the barracks, making sure there's water being passed around along the way. She's just as grateful as the Candidates for a little fresh air at this point herself!

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