Who

A'ndi, D'ex, Dora, Lorawyn, Moira, Nik'las, Rhiannon, St'fan, Va'os, Vani, Yfana, M'noq, K'vvan, Doji

What

Dragons hatch, plus gambling and commentary.

When

4th day of the 7th month of the 10th turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Hatching Sands, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 25 Mar 2017 05:00

 

a-ndi_default.jpg d-ex_default.jpg dora_default.jpg lorawyn_default.jpg moira_default.jpg nik-las_default.jpg rhiannon_default.jpg st-fan_default.jpg va-os_default.jpg vani_default.jpg yfana_default.jpg m-noq_default.jpg k-vvan_default.jpg doji_default.jpg

"If I stopped being a jerk, M'noq, people would think I fucking wanted them around and try to crowd me."


hatching_sands.jpg

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


You have been moved to Galleries.

From the sands below, Lorawyn seeks out Sorvani's hand as the eggs start hatching right when they arrive onto the Sands. "Faranth… they weren't waiting any longer huh…"

K'vvan people steam in slowly to the galleries, finding the shitty time of WAKING UP hard to do of stupid THREE AM. But they come from all over, even cranky greenriders who are just sitting there.
From the sands below, Stefan is following along on auto-pilot mode. A tad pale and very nervous he bows and moves in to position. "Whoa." he breaths out as a dragon is soon already free from his shell.

Doji has arrived.

From the sands below, Sorvani scowls, looking a little bit like Teenaged Negasonic Warhead with her shaved head and thick eyebrows. "IT was an honest question." She mutters darkly, but as far as A'idan can probably see, she's shut up nice enough. And then they bow… And Lorawyn is taking her hand. It is so small. So tiny. "I guess." Blue and brown are noted. "Be ready to run, that blue looks shifty."

From the sands below, Niklaas is caught up in the storm, enfolded in the embrace of a collective bow and then he GTFO's from the middle of the pack. Surely he's safe at the back of this bus, right?! "Nivaos, what… I'm not your shield man. They ain't eating me first. I failed at death ball." He did. Maybe. Or wait. Something catches his eye and he freezes. "Do we run at them?" He asks this aloud. Because maybe someone didn't pay attention in Candidate Reindeer Games.

From the sands below, Drex is one of those skittering back as the first shell shatters, another set of soft curses are muttered under his breath, taking a significant amount of will power to not turn and run. Terror was not something he was familure with, but those litte, soon to be giant, things were that: Terrifying.

From the sands below, Yfana ain't being ANYONE'S Shield. She is going to put her DeathBall sessions to GOOD USE and is going to just get into her crouch and try to avoid the fuck out of little crawlings. If that blue or brown get NEAR her she's going to just WALK THE OTHER WAY.

From the sands below, Moira is here… physically, at least. Mentally? That's a different story. After bows, the blonde stumbles her way in to join the rest of the line, rubbing her eyes furiously as though that will somehow make them more inclined to stay open. At least exhaustion seems to be putting a damper on the nerves, as she's able to survey blue and brown with more curiosity than anxiety.

From the sands below, Weaponized Gemstone of the Universe Blue Dragonet charges into that group of girls, dazed and confused by this new world he's found himself in. The candidates scatter from him and he lets loose a pitiful little sound. Whipping around he hustles forth in another direction, maybe his lifemate will be in this next group of youngsters!

From the sands below, Strong in Cunning Brown Dragonet prowls as discreetly as one young dragon can amongst the chaos. He leaps from egg to egg, attempting to hide out of sight. They can't see him! He awkwardly dives in front of one girl, does she want him? She's screaming. Okay, guess not. Bunch of wusses!

From the sands below, Egg of the Andals and the First Men explodes in a spray of shell fragments, a small green rising from the dust. Her shiny green hide reflects the orangey glow of the sand and glows around the hatching grounds, making her briefly appear as some kind of otherworldly green flame. Then she's off and moving, sprinting across the sand and crashing into Glorious Triple Triangle Egg. That shell is cracked with the impact and a blue breaks free. The pair get into a brief tussle before they go their separate ways, one to a young girl that looks near to passing out. "Oh Cerseith!" The other to a young man standing tall and proud. "Jaimeth!"

From the sands below, Ferdinand plants himself firmly in one spot, staring down the eggs. But as they start busting open, his eyes widen and he takes a step back. Memories. Deja vu. One more step back. A deep, deep breath.

From the sands below, Isadora already starts the familiar candidate dance, hopping from foot to foot. At least the burning heat and the chance of imminent mauling is enough to wake her up by now. She has a sharp eye on both brown and blue - she so doesn't want to be the one to have not learned from Deathball. "This is happening a lot faster than I expected," she ventures, "Impatient, aren't they?" She snorts at the sound of screaming, "Wuss."

From the sands below, Yeah, they cut it super close on this one, THANKS 3AM EGGS. "Nik. Do not run at them." Francis mother-hens the crap out of a bunch of Candidates, gathering them in little clusters and murmuring a steady litany of instructions.

From the sands below, Lorawyn's eyes go wide when that blue starts running towards various groups. "You weren't kidding." She's tensed and ready to run for it if necessary.

From the sands below, "No, we run away." Yfana to Niklaas. To her credit, Yfana isn't running. But she is going to keep moving, that way. THAT WAY.

From the sands below, Nivaos can only spare a quick glance to Niklaas. He doesn't risk anything more! "Hey, we both sucked at Deathball, if I remember right! And I'm pretty sure that throwing yourself AT them will get you killed!" He'll stop using the taller Candidate as a potential screen, however, and stand more beside him. Better? As one group scatters, he grimaces. "See? Case in point! Okay… I'm awake now!" Who needs klah? Just face potential mauling to get the adrenaline going!

From the sands below, Sorvani is keeping her eye on her former shipweyr mate. "Ferdi, I'm here." She calls out, offering her free hand should the professional candidate wish to take it. I mean it's only the first time she's offered to touch him. NBD

"STOP BEING PANSIES." K'vvan, yelling from in the galleries at the silly candidates who are scattering in the face of a few dragons.

M'noq had just lain his head down on his pillow to sleep when the dragons started humming. Typical, right? But he makes it to the galleries and elbows his way in to find a seat. Surely some of these kids will end up in Lynx, and he might as well watch and take a good look. "Hey, what are the odds on the number of greens?" he asks a scruffy guy nearby, who looks like he's taking bets.

From the sands below, "THAT ONE IS CHASING PEOPLE," Niklaas points at the Cunning brown, maybe throwing his arm in front of Moira's face. It's chaos here. And he calls out his truth judgement right for all to see. "It's too early in the night for this…" He jumps back, just in case. Nothing to see here people. NOTHING. He has nothing. Doot, doot, doot. He grasps around, some unlucky Candidate gets to be his meat shield.

Seashell glides in from the Hatching Caverns Entrance.

From the sands below, Stefan tugs nervously at his robe, perhaps ensuring it's long enough to cover all of his legs. His normally tanned expression is still fairly pale as he shifts on the sands. His gaze is trying to watch everything at once and failing to see it all. "Oy. What?" he tries to focus on Niklaas' words and finally focuses on the Cunning Brown.

From the sands below, Strong in Cunning Brown Dragonet abanons the screaming girl and dips low to the ground, almost to his belly as he sneaks up on two boys. From behind. How do they not notice him? He nips at their heels playful. Once againt there's screaming. So sad! Lets try one more time.

From the sands below, Ferdinand TAKES IT. His hand is all sweaty. Ew. He's running on pure adrenaline and fear of rejection right now, there's no time for grump. "It's-" His voice is oddly, unfamiliarly shakey. "It's happening really, really fast this time."

From the sands below, One Big Blue Egg wobbles and rolls around, bumping other eggs in its passage. Then a crack splits down it's side and a hole is broken in the shell. A very tiny blue worms out of the hole and begins a very unsteady, tipsy journey. This petite blue eventually ends up in front of a heavy-set young boy, chirping at him adoringly as impression is made.

From the sands below, When dragons start running AT them, Moira wakes up real quick. It doesn't help that Niklaas is apparently taking a swing at her. With a startled yelp, the gardener grabs a hold of the taller man's robe and ducks behind him. He nearly hit her, SHE EARNED THIS.

K'vvan isn't taking bets, but he does latch onto the rider's words. "Dude, do you really only care about the females?" he says to M’noq.

From the sands below, Isadora keeps her eyes on the darting hatchlings and cracking eggs. But she has time to call over to Niklaas, "/Technically/ it's morning now … not night. But either way I think we'd all rather be sleeping." She barks out a laugh, "That brown seems to be making everyone scream - poor thing."

From the sands below, Rhiannon is here, sweating, eyes big. Her gawky frame is half-hidden behind Niklaas, and blue eyes peer around him every few minutes. "Is it over yet?" the Keroon girl asks, her voice high pitched and squeaky.

From the sands below, Drex has located a cluster of Canidates to hide in, unsure who to be more worried about, the Blue or the Brown or oh no, another one is cracking, Damn it, what on Pern were those people thinking? Stop with the screaming! It wasn't helping! Terror didn't need more Terror!

From the sands below, Weaponized Gemsone of the Universe Blue Dragonet makes a trio of… TRIPLETS his next destination. Surprise, none of them want him either! He creels and stumbles, falling into the sand before getting up again.

From the sands below, "If you could deal with that spinner in your bed, you can deal with this Rhiannon~" Yfana, as she scoots past the other girl.

From the sands below, Niklaas is an agent of poorly orchestrated fear and chaos. Let's be real. The guard didn't train him to get his ass out of the way of eating machines. Roving hunger beasts that… APPARENTLY SNEAK ATTACK. He's about to say something to the poor dudes getting pounced when Rhiannon says something to him and Moira ducks, flailing from his unintentional flail. "It's just started!" How come he's the meat shield? Oh, right, cause he's a million feet tall. Dangnabbit!

From the sands below, The TRIPLETS that scattered from a certain blue all run in different directions. Three screaming, crying, blonde girls! "Ahhh! I don't want to impress!" Too bad! As they scatter, they encounter their lifemates. All blues, hatching from: Look a Little Closer Egg, Where Did It Go!? Egg and The Goose That… Egg!

Z'ok has arrived.

From the sands below, "That spinner couldn't eat me," Rhiannon replies back, her voice panicked and indignant all rolled together into one.

From the sands below, Sorvani snorts. The magic of the sands means she can hear everything and this time she's not going to be quiet. "The rate they're going, it'll be over soon." She's trying for 'experienced' but really she sounds hella nervous. The sweaty man hand that has found her own isn't really noticed except for an absent squeeze of her equally sweaty fingers. Sorvani and Ferdinand can be GROSS together.

From the sands below, Yfana snorts before she gets out of speaking distance. THAT DRAGON IS TOO CLOSE GUYS. "These won't eat you either. JUST BITE."

From the sands below, Stefan says towards Rhiannon. "It could. Maybe. It would just take a really long time. Lots of small bites."

From the sands below, In rapid succession, Underwater Grotto Egg, Heart of the Ocean Egg, and Treasures of the Deep Dark Blue Egg all break apart. There sit three blue dragons, all in varying shades and hues of the sea. The palest of the three immediately ventures forth, drawn quickly to a lad with red hair to impress. His darker-toned brothers both take their time, trying different candidates out with varying degrees of interest until they find a pair of cousins from some backwater hold. Impression is made, matching smiles of joy and love growing on the boy's faces.

From the sands below, Rhiannon's face says it all: she thinks y'all are ALL CRAZY

From the sands below, Moira is apparently sharing space with Rhiannon, but whatever, Niklaas takes up plenty of territory. At least in height. Maybe they should be hiding on each others' shoulders?

Doji flows in with some latecomers into the galleries. The chaos breaking out on the sands distracts the young apprentice from Igen for a moment and a moment was all it takes before she loses the group she came with. Looking utterly bewildered and lost (although not as much as some of the candidates are), the girl sets herself down in the first empty seat she can find, although it takes a moment since all the good seats are already taken.

From the sands below, Lorawyn's hand isn't sweaty… probably. She might be pretending she's okay when she's just a bundle of nervse inside. There's a wince when some of the other candidates squeal and scream, causing her lips to purse.

From the sands below, Isadora chimes in,"Spinners can't maul you, either." She's so cheerful and optimistic. She keeps a-hopping from foot to foot, steely blue eyes on the hatching.

From the sands below, Rhiannon grabs Moira's hand, then, because it makes sense to do so.

From the sands below, Nivaos laughs nervously. "Night, day? Does it really matter? It's happening! Who's screaming?" Seriously! Screaming. That's not helping things, folks! And… "How'd they manage that? And not die?" Triple Impression! There's a wince as the one blue goes tumbling and that brown? He's lost track of. So many eggs are hatching now, Nivaos doesn't even know where to look. "How're you supposed to watch them all!"

M'noq casts a look over at K'vvan and grins. "Nah, but I find it easier to bet on the number greens than the number of bronzes, say." He's counting out a handful of marks and smaller bits. "Why, you have some kind of inside line on another color?"

From the sands below, Dumpster Fern Egg breaks open and there's a shiny, wet, mottled green dragonet shaking off the goop of the egg. She takes a few shaky steps, falls, then picks herself back up and tentatively approaches a quiet, shy scrawny fellow standing near the end of the line. When their eyes meet, there is only adoration between them.

From the sands below, Moira is just going to squeeze Rhiannon's hand for all she's worth. "Why are they all running at us?!" Seriously, what the hell.

From the sands below, "Pick who ever's closest and watch THAT one!" Drex's words are directed toward whoever it was who asked, apparently he hasn't actually met NIvaos, but hey, if people keep asking obvious questions, Drex can answer them.

From the sands below, Treasure Chats egg splits quite neatly along the 'hinged' part of the shell and out pops a sweet googly-eyed green, lime in the middle fading to a near-peach color at the very tips of wings, toes and tail. She rollicks towards a group of girls, chirping merrily as she goes. The green looks at this one, no this one, no this one…YAY! THIS ONE! BEHIND THE OTHERS! "Yukoth! I'm so happy to meet you too!" The lucky winner, a hitherto quiet young man who was hiding behind the girls, leads the delighted green towards the edge of the sands.

From the sands below, Pheromones. YOU SMELL PRETTY

From the sands below, looks pretty too

From the sands below, Weaponized Gemstone of the Universe Blue Dragonet turns his jewel faceted eyes toward Drex, and steps forward.

From the sands below, Weaponized Gemstone of the Universe Blue Dragonet has been on a one dragon mission this whole time. He's gone haphazardly from group to group, candidate to candidate looking for his perfect lifemate. When he spots Niklaas, he seems to have found his match! He goes straight towards him. But instead of staring adoringly into his eyes, he knocks him over, walks on top of him and digs his hind foot into his chest rather callously before moving onto his real target. A former pirate with a penchant for stabbing.

From the sands below, Ferdinand swallows a lump in his throat, steels himself and stands firmly next to Sorvani. You know, gotta make sure she doesn't get mauled, right?! "I really thought I was ready for this again-" He stops and his jaw drops when Drex impresses. WHAT.

From the sands below, Stefan was wondering the same thing. How can they ALL be watched at once. Shifting backwards a bit at a time he seems to be making his way further from the eggs and a bit closer to the back. "I'm just trying to see what's around me." he mutters to anyone close to him, which at this point he can't remember anyones name and doesn't know who stands by him. OH NOES!

"You'd get better odds on the bronses. Especially as not a single one has hatched yet." Not that K'vvan is betting, Well. Maybe he's betting a little. "There's a shitton of blues right now," K'vvan says to M'noq.

From the sands below, Rub the Magic Lamp Egg shatters and a brown dragonet falls out onto the sands!

From the sands below, Just Can't Get the Nose Right Brown Dragonet
From the sands below, Debonair-sleek: white sands trickle over suave chestnut laying out clean lines of rounded corners. Spindle-thin legs support a muscle'd frame with rotund belly and barrel ribcage. Chocolate coifs the head knobs, trickling onto low-slung eyeridges hinting at natural charismatic charm. Turbulent motion gets mimic'd in the swirling patterns of buff'd burnt umber before spilling across the stretch of milky-ash membrane over pale sandstone wing bones. Compact and bulky, every step thunders with purpose while his rump sways with attitude not to be denied.

From the sands below, As the first Impressions are made, Francis starts herding victi…uh…new riders to the edge of the Sands, where there are piles of fresh meat chunks and Assistant Weyrlingmaster's P'quil and S'nar, showing the newbies how to feed their new walking stomachs.

From the sands below, "The F…" CRACK. That hatching egg provides a nice disguise for the rest of Sorvani's words. "Seriously? HOW?" She asks of Ferdinand. Because WTF?

From the sands below, Yfana was running away but then WTF "Did the damn pirate just IMPRESS?" She's yelling, "I can't torment him if he's a rider." DISGRUNTLEMENT.

From the sands below, Lorawyn seems almost dazed at the rapid pace that Impressions are occuring around her. It's almost dizzying… And then Drex is Impressing?!?! What.

Jerika walks to the Stairs.

From the sands below, Rhiannon FREAKS THE FUCK OUT when Niklaas gets mauled right in front of her face. "I FUCKING TOLD YOU!" is what she blurts, backs off, backs away, and then faints. Down she goes, in a heap of Rhiannon. At least she lets go of Moira's hand.

From the sands below, "Can someone drag the unconscious person out of here?" A'idan gestures to someone who moves unconscious people.

From the sands below, Niklaas's life was good. He's got girls at his back and then… "NOT ME, NOT ME…" And then it's talons and nails and face-owning. Blood, pain, and then he's lying face up to the stone cover of the Hatching Caverns. Let's hope he didn't take down Moira and Rhiannon when he FELL TO THE GROUND. "I'M OKAY I THINK I GOT MY ARM STILL."

From the sands below, What?! Was a good word for it. Drex wasn't quite capable of talking, eyes remain wrapped on that Blue, a few steps are stumbled back then the name is whispered softly, "Zynth? What the hell?" He's just going to stand here for a moment, then a tentive hand reaches out and touches the Blue.

From the sands below, Strong in Cunning Brown Dragonet fixes his attention on one tall drink of water. His prowling circles nearer to the man, and he coils his strength in his haunches to pounce upon his intended. But youth is full of folly, and his attempt to surprise his newfound lifemate ends with a yowl of pain and a sudden well of blood. His talons grasp and gouge when he lands upon Niklaas, already toppled from his run-in with that blue. It's all a chaos of limbs from there, the young man's arms and legs tangled with the young brown's wings and tail.

From the sands below, Isadora actually squeaks when that blue physically /runs over/ Niklaas to get to Drex. "Oh, shit!" she squeaks out, "Niklaas! Are you alright?" She tries to step forward, though stumbles back as she notices /more/ dragons hatching. She better stay aware or be run over again. And then ther eare people fainting and everything is happening all at once, "Oh for the love of Faranth!" Then she blinks, realizing Drex's impression, "Oh - congrats, Drex!"

From the sands below, Somewhere Over the Rainbow There's a Pot of Gold Egg shudders. Then it stops for a long while, sitting there doing absolutely nothing at all for the longest time. Then it shatters, big time. It sends shards of egg flying in every direction. Hopefully someone won't lose an eye!! A brown sits in the wreckage, shaking it off quickly before he beelines it for a tall blonde girl.

From the sands below, Strong in Cunning Brown Dragonet turns his jewel faceted eyes toward Niklaas, and steps forward.

From the sands below, Moira can't help but SCREAM when Niklaas gets mauled right in front of her. Yeah, okay. Rhiannon might let go, but Moira reaches out for her anyway, because she really needs someone to hold on to right now.

From the sands below, Just Can't Get the Nose Right Brown Dragonet turns his jewel faceted eyes toward Moira, and steps forward.

From the sands below, Nivaos will put his dodging skills to good use when that blue goes for Niklaas… and then mauls him. "FUCK! Oh shit…" Cue his scrambling backwards and going for safety. Just before the brown hatchling goes for the wounded Candidate. He's just going to back away and away. Surely there's somewhere safe to stand, right? RIGHT?

From the sands below, Ferdinand belatedly notices that oh, Nik got clawed. Somehow that was less shocking than Drex impressing. And then Nik gets clawed /again./ "I… uh…" He just /looks/ at Sorvani. He can't even.

From the sands below, Stefan grunts in surprise. He might not be able to watch everything but everyone's reactions has him looking to see the mauled and now impressed Niklaas. "Oh shit." he mutters.

From the sands below, Works Just Fine Egg cracks, the breakage isolated to one spot in the smooth plain shell, and ever so slowly a damp, nearly-black limp works its way free. Then a long awkward pause before another pushes out beside it and with a final heave, Navigating by the Southern Cross Green Dragonet slips free of her safe harbor. She lays in a damp pile of spindly limbs until the warmth of the Sands seeps into her bones, then the dragonet surges to her feet on breathtakingly slender legs to pick her way, meticulous and spinner-like, towards the gathering of Candidates closest to her.

From the sands below, Navigating by the Southern Cross Green Dragonet
From the sands below, First of all, this green is large. Surprisingly large, and her startlingly skinny spindly form makes her seem to take up yet more space. She is not slender and not lanky but just plain skinny. Her form in some ways invokes that of a spinner, with her knobby limbs and kinked wings, neckridges seeming to almost strain through the shadowed hide of her reticulated neck. She's also wickedly dark in color, cloaked in a spruce green very near to black though her hide tends to lighten inconveniently where she is most protuberant, creating strange false shadows that make her look even more skeletal than she is. Her ebon wingsails, spread over whisper-thin spars, have the look of tattered sails. Of course she can't be gifted with proper proportions; her head seems too large for her neck and she sports a long crocodilian muzzle studded with sharp teeth, the points of which show even when her mouth is closed. Oddly enough, her headknobs are surprisingly pert and almost cute.

From the sands below, Lorawyn is so torn between helping the injured and staing right where she is. Omg. There's dragon limbs and human limbs… Is Nik going to be okay?!

From the sands below, Helpers pop out, evidently accustomed to this, when Rhiannon doesn't immediately come to. She's dragged off as the other two Impress in her fainted-away wake.

"Wasn't that one… a pirate…?" K'vvan, pointing at the kid who impressed the blue.

From the sands below, Snap! Crackle! LOOT! Egg — It's a green hatchling! This young dragon practically bounces out of her shell, full of life and excited about the world! She spills down a hill of sand, somersaulting a couple of times before landing on her head with her tail sticking up in the air. It takes her some time to sort herself out, but once she does she happily skitters over to a young boy, nearly toppling him in her enthusiasm to impress.

M'noq listens to K'vvan's comments, then nods, scanning over the sands at those dragonets who have chosen and those who have not, as well as the uncracked eggs. "Blues are ones that are tough to predict, though. I try not to bet more than I can afford to lose." And if he typically loses, it raises the question of why he continues to bet in the first place.

From the sands below, "MAKE SURE WE GOT A HEALER," Francis yells to the staff gathered at the sides of the Sands, marching towards Rhiannon's collapsed form. "Put her over there," she tells the helpers, indicating a triage area near the stairs, and then it's it's time to take care of the wounded ones.
From the sands below, Yfana catches sight of Rhiannon being dragged off and shakes her head. "I should have put a tunnel snake in her bed."

From the sands below, Sorvani will just keep on not evening with Ferdinand, once again the pair of them can bond over the unfairness of the world. "Uh. At least you got a dragon." She calls out to the poor mauled form of Niklaas…or whatever he's gunna call himself now. "Yeah." She agrees with Ferdi. This hatching is not anything like any of the others she's seen/been in.

From the sands below, A'idan sighs as he helps one pair off and watches Nik get mauled not once, but twice. "And you all thought deathball was a big joke…" He strolls over and makes to help the new brownrider with whatever he needs.

From the sands below, There's barely time after the Niklaas disaster for Moira to register that yet another egg has hatched before there's a strangely pale brown, nose down and rear up, and headed her way. She shies back initially, not willing to be the next victim, but when whirling eyes meet hers, those nerves are wiped away with a suddenness that's almost jarring. "Oh…" She seems to be a little weak at the knees, but that could be because of that look the little brown is giving her. Or the blood she just saw spilling everywhere, whatever. Dropping to the sands when her wobbly legs can't take it anymore, the young blonde reaches out to tentatively lay a hand upon that flawless muzzle. "Oh, Itzyevnth," she breathes with complete adoration, "I can't wait!" And the best part? She doesn't have to!

Doji flinches a little as the hatchling mauls one of the candidates, and her fingers start twitching like she's anticipating stitching. "They have healers down there, right?" They have to. The talk of odds from the two riders draws the healer's attention. "How do you predict any of them? Wouldn't a small blue egg be about the same size as a large green?"

From the sands below, Stars in the Sky Egg births a dragonet that seems crafted along the same theme. It shatters into a spray of black-speckled shards that cling to the damp body of a darkly wrought green hatchling. She stands amid this mess, fanning out her wings, giving her young voice a try with a brassy, brazen bugle - shrill with youth but completely unafraid to announce her presence to this chaos.

From the sands below, Intergalactic Stardust Green Dragonet
From the sands below, Inky darkness coalesces to birth tenebrous greens, cloudlike wisps of jade and midnight that blend patternlessly across a star-strewn hide. A seamless gradient of brightening greens pulsates from near-blackness at her shoulderblades, brightening through viridian and turquoise to end at harlequin brightness along the edges of her blunt-tipped talons. Glimpses of alien shades dance alight with greater frequency down the length of her muscular form - no frail and lissome green, this one. She is girl-power personified, with a sturdy frame that rises to the challenge of buxomly beautiful, her curves underpinned with an impressive musculature and a robust bone structure that allows her to carry her excess flesh sumptuously. Even her head is heavily structured, with pronounced cheekbones and substantial eyeridges, a strong jawline that gives her muzzle a stubborn set even in repose. Make no mistake, there's beauty in the strength of her form, the beauty of something absolute and unshakable, the beauty of the primal and the fundamental, the beauty of confidence and pride.

From the sands below, Several Candidates stare and a couple actually physically recoil as Navigating by the Southern Cross Green Dragonet picks her way among them, extending her narrow muzzle at each and then, occasionally with a frustrated air-snap, moving on to another. No one in this batch passes muster, and the pine-dark green departs, heading towards a young man with brown hair and brown eyes. Those left in her wake show varying degrees of relief, and one girl crinkles her nose and whispers something probably unflattering to her neighbor.

"A half mark that they're the majority in this clutch unless something else starts hatching more often." K'vvan calls back to M'noq, holding up the coin. OKAY SO HE IS BETTING.

From the sands below, Intergalactic Stardust Green Dragonet is in no hurry. She gives her drying wings a little shake, the dark egg shards sprinkling down to land on the sand around her in dark contrast to the lighter grains. Her wings are folded in and a small shiver runs through her, sinuous muscles bunching and releasing rapidly. Finally she moves, a gradual walk.

From the sands below, Isadora is kind of stuck right where she is, unsure of whether to move or go. More dragons seem to be appearing and then Niklaas is impressed, but mauled. "This is sharding /insanity/," she grouses with a snort. Her attention is caught by the two new greens on the sands, especially by the dark one with the interesting proportions, "She looks rather … unique."

From the sands below, Niklaas thought he'd made it through okay, see. Sure, he's got a fire in his arm and down his back where the hot sands are BURNING into him. Life's okay, though. Until SUDDENLY, yet ANOTHER dragonet pounces him. What the hell?! Pinpricks of more pain… and then… well he has nothing, see. There's only a world within a world and Niklaas - now, Nik'las, has checked out, staring in the eyes of a trickster brown who's decided to make him his own. A rasp, and then a whisper, and then, "Your name is … what now? How am I supposed to pronounce that? Vul… Vulk…Vulhy… Vulheimurath!" It's like getting a prize when he gets to the end! Maybe. He sees many days of and many nicknames of this dragon.

From the sands below, Yfana edges around someone who just tripped and fell, making sure to keep someone between her and the dragons. Except that the green one hatched RIGHT NEXT TO HER and she has to !!! and dodge away.

From the sands below, Cave of Wonders Egg hatches first, a handsome brown sitting with large swaying head. As he gets up and starts his walk, behind him the Tarnished Lamp Egg is visible. This smaller egg cracks and breaks open and a bright blue hatchling crawls forth. He immediately bugles and it's a surprisingly deep, resonating sound for such a tiny dragon. It's not long before both brown and blue find their lifemates, the bond instant and unbreakable.

From the sands below, Stefan can hardly keep up with so much going on. Another step back and then a sidestep he finds himself a couple people away from Sorvani, a face he knows fairly well. So he parks himself there. One hand runs nervously through his hair…only to find its still shaved. "Damn." another mutter.

From the sands below, Ferdinand eyes Francis briefly, almost says something, but it doesn't come out. Instead he says quietly to his sands-buddy (the buddy system is important out here), "Is A'hali here?" He gestures vaguely with his free hand to the galleries.

M'noq arches a brow at K'vvan. "You're betting the clutch will be more than half blues? I'll take that bet." This, despite the fact that the mental tally in his head has now gone all to nothing. He waves a half mark in the wingleader's direction.

From the sands below, You think the WLM staff doess this noise without Healers on the ground? They're mostly competent and a team of senior journeyman and apprentice are on Nik'las as soon as he goes down. New rider and dragon are helped off the sands, bandaged, numbed, fed as needed.

"No, but that the largest GROUP is blues." K'vvan quickly fixes himself. No way is he going to say that HALF our blues. He eyes M'noq tos ee if he'll take the new odds.

From the sands below, With surefootedness, Navigating by the Southern Cross Green Dragonet nimbly sidesteps a Candidate staggering (but trying not to) towards her as he flees another, less genteel dragonet. The green shakes herself all over with annoyance, her tattered-sail wings rustling faintly, and corrects course, tracking past the curves of her father's talons to make her way to the other side of the sands. One Candidate bolts outright and Navigating by the Southern Cross Green Dragonet…did she just roll her eyes? Well there are other candidates to be had, and while these are also checked over thoroughly, none seem to suit.

From the sands below, Sticky Situation Egg quietly cracks, some of the pieces falling away, but more of them sticking to the green dragonet that's been tightly packed inside. A particularly large shell fragment is stuck to her face. She blindly stumbles around, bumping into more than a few of her siblings and some candidates as well until finally a young man grabs the piece and pulls it from her face. Beneath are whirling, faceted rainbow eyes only for her rescuer. Impression.

From the sands below, Sorvani is keeping an eye on 'her' egg even in the midst of the chaos of dual maulings and dirty stabbers impressing dirty stabby blues dragons with awesome names. About the only thing that would drag her eyes away from the imminent birth of what that egg contains is the use of a singular name. "He promised he would be. Him and Ohanaveth both." And in that brief timeless instant she takes her eyes off the prize to scan the galleries…and of course misses that moment. Almost like magic when she looks back, her egg is gone and in it's place is a green dragonet. "Thanks."

From the sands below, Nivaos takes a moment to regroup, licking his lips in nervousness though he still manages a shaky laugh. "Well… damn! Hope Nik's going to be okay. So much for being prepared, huh?" He mutters to no one in particular. He's just going to keep on his toes now and eye those remaining eggs and the wandering dragonets with renewed apprehension. Deep breath!

Off in a corner quiet A'hali sits, leaning forward with his eyes flitting between two candidates still left on the sands. A tear has already fallen from his eye when Drex was claimed and taken out by the little blue. Now he watches Ferdinand and Sorvani intently with fingers crossed.

From the sands below, Intergalactic Stardust Green Dragonet moves at a glacial pace, a gradual motion amidst the blur of her siblings around her. She stops at one young man, then another older boy. They are both left behind. She pauses at a nervously giggling teenager, yet continues on. Each candidate is inspected and dismissed.

Maybe it's lack of sleep, but M'noq nods to K'vvan, agreeing to the new bet. "All right, fine. So, you're hoping for a good crop of males, huh? I see quite a few greens popping out so far."

From the sands below, Lorawyn is hardly paying attention to the conversations anyone is having around her, keeping her hand firmly gripped around Sorvani's. The mention of A'hali's name has her gaze distracted as she looks over at her friend and then up to the galleries. A light squeeze for Sorvani's hand before she looks back out at the wandering dragonets and even more Impressions.

From the sands below, Yfana has managed to make a full circuit around the eggs, ending, finally, behind Sorvani, Lorawyn, and Ferdinand. There she is going to rest for a moment, secure that these will keep the dragons off her a bit.

From the sands below, Lost Doubloon Egg, Plunder in the Turf Egg, and The Dragon's Hoard Egg are all piled atop one another. When the first breaks, the other two quickly follow. It's time for these three secreted away greens to be found! Lucky for them, a group of candidates is right there ready for them. The trio of greens all match up to waiting riders, all eager to be fed after being hoarded away for so long.

From the sands below, Isadora gives a small snort at all the running candidates, obviously thinking less of them for their cowardice, "At least they're not screaming." She soon gives a start and, realizing she'd been standing still too long on the hot sands, starts to hop back and forth once again. "They both have uh … interesting patterns," she comments, trying to find something to say about the two as she keeps an eye on them. She does give a glare to noe of the whispering busy-body candidates near by and adds in an undertone, "She doesn't look /that/ strange to me - they're babies, for crying out loud. Human babies look strange."

From the sands below, "Okay, I think… let's just sit right here for a moment." Nik'las is going to make sure his wound isn't bleeding out — he'll need some healer attention like poor Rhiannon, and that's about when he really notices that Rhiannon has DISAPPEARED and Moira has been grabbed by a pale brown. "I… You're hungry. I can feel it. It's surreal." Finally, the Candidate - nay, rider - slushes to his feet. His robe is now a fashionable red! Yay! Drex is caught by a blue and there's two greens out among others. "Need out of the hot seat, Vulhy." THIS IS NIK. THIS IS NIK GETTING OUT OF DODGE. Well, kind of. He's got a dragonet that wants to 'help'. Only 'help' doesn't mean pushing him over (nearly). Still, he'll move off to where the weyrlingmasters are waiting.

"You missed the start when it was raining blues." K'vvan puts a foot up on the sea in front of him, pissing off the person sitting there. He's going to ignore them, especially when they realize that he's wearing the wingleader knot and decide to not argue about his boot. "I want some solid blues in my wing, greens are good," obviously <3 you Nadeeth!! "But the flights are annoying."

From the sands below, Unrequited Egg bursts open to reveal a brown dragonet, trim and neatly made and colored with soft swirls of klah and cream. Because who needs love when you can have klah, amirite?! The brown sits by his shell, tail curled neatly around his feet, eyeing the smorgasbord before him. Hmm. Sure kid, you'll do. HAVE SOME LOVE.

From the sands below, Navigating by the Southern Cross Green Dragonet rejects another group of white-robed hopefuls, nearly doubling back along her own length to change direction. Her oddly reticulated gait carries her over a few ripples of sand and despite the strange locomotion of her attenuated frame she does not lose her footing. Her steps slow and she cocks her toothy muzzle to one side, and then her whirling eyes focus on a girl with a fluff of formerly-shorn blonde curls. The dragonet then steps with purpose towards Isadora and stops, fixing her with a knowing and demanding gaze.
From the sands below, Sorvani returns Lorawyn's squeeze with one of her own. Her dark eyes taking in the pair of greens taking their time picking out their lifemates. Not that she blames them, the hour and the speed in which everything is happening has caused some candidates to loose their minds…or their consciousnesses. Poor Rhiannon.

From the sands below, Niklaas has connected.

From the sands below, Sometimes a hatchling is an old soul. Old Dog's Love Egg cracks apart and inside is a young green with an almost weathered look to her shady hide. She moves at a relaxed pace, in no hurry to find her mate. When she does, it's a woman that's barely still young enough to even stand on the sands. The two seem to fit together as if they've known each other for turns.

From the sands below, Intergalactic Stardust Green Dragonet doesn't walk around the sands like some of her clutchtmates have been. Where others have been dashing to and fro in a frantic attempt to find their perfect lifemate, she has taken her time. A slow and painful amount of time, but she took it. Eventually her deliberate movements will take her to one dark haired candidate, one former barmaid. Never again to pour drinks (at least not for a living).

From the sands below, D'ex has done a significant amount of time just staring at the sharp little creature before him. He shivers, pulled out of his own personal doubts and fears by that insane hunger. With a much slower speed than Zynth had taken the rest of his life so far, Drex and the little blue move towards the waiting world of food. Whatever aprehentions Drex and everyone else had about him impressing are not noticed now as the man mutely moves off the sands with the other new riders.

Seeing that green approach the woman of his dreams A'hali is just going to shatter his silence. Surging to his feet the big man stars to yell, "SORVANI YOU DID IT!!!!! I KNEW YOU WOULD DO IT!!!!"

"Well, there's four more greens since you starting making this bet about being mostly blues," Doji offers up. It's not like she's been sitting her eavsdropping on the riders. The apprentice is just trying to be helpful.

From the sands below, Ferdinand is indeed a little delirious. The last hatchings he was at happened at a more reasonable hour. He stares almost blankly as that stardust green approaches his former shipweyr roomie. He blinks slowly and takes a step back, letting his hand slip from Sorvani's.

From the sands below, From the filigreed depths of Alexandria's Treasured Faberge Egg emerges a mournful empress of a green. Rich and verdant in hue, the just e dragonet herself is etched with the same lacework as the shell she just shattered. With a sort of lonely majesty she pads firmly across the sands, pauses to gaze upward at her golden mother, and then rests her head in the arms of a dark haired boy who has knelt to welcome her.

From the sands below, Nivaos steadies himself now that the chaos ebbs a little. Right until those greens make their choices and he grins almost from ear to ear. "HA! Would you look at that!" He's just going to inch his way a little further back too, joining the rest who are milling about.

"Right, well I wouldn't mind a group of agile blues or greens for Lynx," M'noq says. "I prefer them to guard the flanks, even though they can't last a full fall." So they end up talking shop in the middle of placing bets, which was in the middle of watching the free-for-all on the Sands. He gives a quick nod to the apprentice's comment. "What matters is the final count, anyway, right?"

From the sands below, Intergalactic Stardust Green Dragonet turns her jewel faceted eyes toward Sorvani, and steps forward.

From the sands below, Moira eventually manages to leverage herself off of the burning sands — her knees are looking awfully red — leaning on Itzyevnth the whole way as they move to join the rest of the weyrlings. The young woman still looks mostly stunned, too absorbed by the new consciousness tied to hers to really consider what this means.

K'vvan is unclouth and Doji gets a MIDDLE FINGER. "Can't call it from just a few." Then back to M'noq with a droll, "It'll be a while till any of these get into our wings, and at least a few of them will die before then. Tapping candidates at the hatching is like counting what will hatch before they hatch."

From the sands below, Forgotten but Found Again Egg dies a most violent death. A burst of shards spray away from its occupant, leaving a bronze that greets the world with the inelegant growl of an infant that doesn't realize how comical his rage is. He moves with stubborn gracelessness, a body that's not yet powerful enough to match the mind it houses, dragging talons to leave deep grooves through the sand that mark his trespass. Move aside, world, for this dragonet will take no heed of those who get in his way.

From the sands below, Sun Dappled Lord of the Forest Bronze Dragonet
From the sands below, Bronze he undeniably is, but its not the bright splashy shade one often associates with the word. Instead its a more nuanced thing; rich ruddy bronze as the base coat, lustre dimmed with a darker patina but the metallic hue still swirls through in muted bursts while darkness pools at the hollows under the neck, legs, wings and belly. Oddly, a few ever-so-faint gold freckles are spattered randomly over his brow and boldly back-swept headknobs and dance over the spars of his ebon-tinged wide wingsails, so subdued as to look like a few stray dapples of sunlight. Most dragons are top-heavy but this bronze is remarkably so with a powerful chest offset rather ineffectually with slender haunches and a thin whipcord of a tail, though age and exertion will likely even this out somewhat. And despite his ungainly proportions, he is all smooth muscle, somehow lumberingly graceful while still not quite in balance.

From the sands below, Healers swarm Nik'las, at least one veteran of the Sands with her bevy of apprentices tending to both ex-guard and dragonet. Francis shoos a few more new pairs over to the feeding area, lost in the rhythm of moving people where they need to go.

From the sands below, "I am glad you have gotten what you want~" Yfana has an idea that Sorvani can't hear a SINGLE thing she is saying but that's okay, because she is OUT and AWAY from this newest menace to her freedom.

From the sands below, Lorawyn's a little in awe as her friend Impresses right before her… The hand gets let go as she takes a step back, glancing over at Ferdinand. "Congrats, Sorvani…" she whispers as her smile widens, happy for her friend before turning her attention back out once more. With no hand to hold, hers clench into fists as she continues to play the waiting game. And run, if needed.

From the sands below, Cursed Maneki-neko Egg has been JUST FINE all this time, that is until there is a weird little clunk. Should eggs make that kind of noise? Should they spin like that? Who knows? Something deep within this egg has had enough of all these pesky rules, and it's just gunna do it's own thing okay? The universe turns as it will and time waits for no man, or dragonet in this case. For a brief moment Cursed Maneki-neko Egg manages to maintain the semblance of structural integrity, before it all just disintegrates in one big explosion of shell and goo. From the midst of this chaos emerges Spare Parts Make the Best Hearts Brown Dragonet. There is a brief moment where he shakes his head before his attention is captured by all of those strange things in white. One of them has what he needs, what he craves. And he's GUNNA find him…Oooh Look at that egg shard! No wait, the primary mission has not been achieved, cool stuff can WAIT. Right now, he needs to find that guy The one that will complete him…oh there he is! That guy with the eyes! The pretty blue-green ones! Hai Ferdinand! Did you miss me?

From the sands below, Spare Parts Make the Best Hearts Dragonet
From the sands below, Here is the hulk of a relinquished renegade, a lovable rogue left to moulder. His hide appears tainted by the airless abandonment of space debris and cratered by the micro-impacts of a thousand turns of asteroids. Where there once was light and life has long since been surrendered to the void, the oxidized verdigris of untold ages distempers the corroded brown plating of his stocky form. There is a certain derelict majesty to the precarious tilt of his facial symmetry: that one head knob is higher than the other, the opposite eye slightly larger. A schematic of corrupted copper follows the lines of his not so even keel down his wonky head knobs and along his askew neck ridges. Devoid of grace, he is built for flight even if it appears that his star-stained wings are far too small to support the bulk of his anodized body. Shiny electroplated talons suggest that underneath the neglect of his rusted hide lurks something more than space junk.

"FERDIANAND!" The yelling from the usually quiet brownrider erupts from A'hali's throat! He is actually jumping up and down as all THREE of his once weyr-people IMPRESS.

From the sands below, For a brief moment, when her eyes lock with that dark star-stuff green, it looks as if Sorvani…No Vani now, would join Rhiannon in unconsciousness. But as if hit by a blast of solar winds the former barmaid straightens and stands tall. "Caelisth" She breathes as it if is the first breath of a new world. A strange sound impinges on her consciousness. A breath from her former life she looks up to what is usually silent, before she returns to the here and now. "Yes, lets."

From the sands below, Spare Parts Make the Best Hearts Dragonet turns his jewel faceted eyes toward Ferdinand, and steps forward.

Doji just happens to miss that middle finger with her eyes on the sands again. "And another two greens…" Pointing out Old Dogs and Treasured Fabrege egg both hatched greens as well. "Also… those hatchlings can barely walk without mauling somebody. Don't you want them to grow into their bodies first and see what their strengths and weaknesses will be before saying you want them on your wing?"

From the sands below, Ancient Chest Egg starts to hatch with just hairline fractures that blend so well with the fragmented patterns of shell it's likely that most will not even notice this egg is beginning to break. There's some subtle wobbling and shifting about of the egg in the sand, and then finally one sturdy crack splits horizontally across the surface, racing around the circumference. The top is pushed upward from within (much as a lid lifting to reveal the treasure inside), and wet liquid spills out onto the sand through the jagged crack. There — resting as if lounging in his own private pool — a dull brown dragonet's head swivels around, slowly blinking and surveying the sandy expanse with determined patience. Some time passes before he moves, but finally the egg is tipped forward and the brown hatchling slithers out with the rest of the liquid as if poured from a pitcher, his brown hide dark and slick as he steps onto the wet sand.

From the sands below, Hauled From the Depths Brown Dragonet
From the sands below, At first glance, this brown dragon doesn't grab the eye. He's stockily built with wide shoulders, full torso, and strong wings. His hide is a muted grayish brown not unlike the desaturated trunks of trees that lie dormant in the winter, or the murky depths of a river where the gently swirling mud is dark and foggy. Along his spine, a more intense hue of reddish-brown rust accentuates each ridge, a splash of color that both draws the eye and warns of potential danger, for this unassuming dragon has tremendous strength. Thick muscles bunch along his hind quarters, and there's power in his enveloping wings. Examining more closely, the seemingly drab brown hide shows hidden complexity and beauty. Along his eye ridges are fine metallic speckles of gold and bronze that catch the light and make those faceted orbs of color all the more pronounced. It's a delightful treasure any that are intimate with the dragon will enjoy, for it cannot be seen when viewed from afar. Along his broad, deathly sharp talons are streaks of green akin to see algae. That green tinting climbs halfway up his limbs until it blends into the earthy tones of his flanks.

From the sands below, Hauled From the Depths Brown Dragonet picks himself up from the sand into a surprisingly strong stance for a hatchling fresh out of the egg. He takes a few sturdy steps, then spills into a pile of egg shards from his brothers and sisters with a squawk of alarm. With nothing but determination, he crawls out of the pile and slowly crests a high pile of sand, the grains all sticking to his damp hide.

From the sands below, Sun Dappled Lord of the Forest Bronze's first foray into finding a lifemate is nothing less than a bumrush. He even manages to knock a couple of Candidates over like bowling pins, though there seem to be no injuries left in his wake. He's desperate in his search and scuffles wildly through the sand, head popping up every now and again to look at this one…and this one…no, not this one…and the desperation grows with each unsuitable person. He flops on his non-proportional butt for a moment in baby despair, then with a bawl rights himself again and starts stumbling towards a line of Candidates. Only to staggers face-first into the sand. Fortunately he's back up on his wobbly Bambi-legs before any hapless Candidates try to run in and hoist him.

From the sands below, Isadora suddenly blinks - not once, not twice, but several times. In complete shock as the spindly green settles herself down in front of her, of all people. "What?" is all she can say at first, unsused to another voice in her head. Then her voice comes out, sure and strong, "Yes. Of course - I do everything of my own free will, Ianayuth. I … " She blinks again, confused, "Ianayuth?" Isadora, now Dora, shakes her head in numb surprise, "You do seem like you could eat a whole runnerbeast - let's, uh … let's get that taken care of." She works at guiding the strangely-built green off the sands.

M'noq glares at K'vvan. "Hey, don't talk about death at a Hatching! The least you can do is not be a jerk, and wait until the party afterwards to bring it up." Yeah, the horrible deaths are no fun, and M'noq has deep and unhappy memories about the ones from his clutch. He waves a hand at Doji. "Just speculation, is all. Plenty of time to watch them grow up as the Turn goes on."

From the sands below, Nivaos isn't even aware that he's running the back of his hand over his forehead or that he's begun to sweat from the heat of the sands and his earlier dash-scrambling away from the maulings. More eggs hatch, more dragonets spill out and he braces himself for another round. "Alright… Can't be too bad, right? Fewer of us now." Or is that a bad thing?

From the sands below, Stefan can't miss Sorvani impressing not when he's standing just a couple people away. A grin breaks his expression wide open. "Hey, gratz!" he calls over towards her despite the fact she probably won't hear it. Keeping his attention wandering he watches a brown move with determination before he finds the bronze making his way past the broken egg shells. This one he watches closely to ensure he doesn't end up with claws in his chest.

"If I stopped being a jerk M'noq, people would think I fucking wanted them around and try to crowd me." A bastard twist of his lips as K'vvan eyes the dragons impresssing. The number of browns is worrying him and his half-mark bet. "M'noq just wants to fill out his wing."

From the sands below, Still and quiet, Please Don't Wake Up Egg, is one of the last amongst of group of eggs to even stir, let alone crack. Suddenly, near the top of this pastel-hued egg a set of sharp talons puncture through the shell, each thrust through the casing with violent force. A second set of talons punch through along the other side of the egg. Then with a powerful explosion an energetic green bursts out. She tears around the sands eagerly, then crashes into her lifemate, impressing him with a burst of love and affection.

From the sands below, A delicate wisp of a green, sheathed in layers of jade and tourmaline with wings of veil-like translucency emerges from the pile of shell pieces that was once the Imprisoned Storyteller Egg. She travels with an graceful undulating gait towards a curvy girl, dark skinned and with a cascade of dark hair that was spared the lice but will soon be shorn off anyway. As the pair lock eyes, a periwinkle-misted sleepy blue dragonet slouches out of the Last Few Winks egg and lolls, tipping his head back to look at the candidates lined up nearby. It's not until he's made his selection from the comfort of his sand wallow that he rises and nudges a red-haired young woman in the kneecap. Then he shows his teeth in a magnificent yawn.

From the sands below, Ferdinand glances back at Lorawyn as their mutual acquaintance impresses. He looks out to the stands as well, hearing A'hali's cheers for Sorvani. His eyes, those blue-green ones, turn forward again. And meet with a brown's. Ferdi stumbles backwards and right onto his backside, blinking, bewildered. "I… I love you too? Taliveth?" Is he crying? NO I'M NOT CRYING YOU'RE CRYING- There's a lot of feels happening that his body wasn't ready for. He laughs, too.

From the sands below, With so many dragons having taken up their new PEOPLE Yfana is slowing. She has not impressed, and a feeling hints that none of those there are going to come looking for her. She ends near Lorawyn, approaching the healer slowly. "You remain here." Just in case Lorawyn hadn't noticed.

From the sands below, Nivaos spoke too soon and winces as the bronze bowls some poor unfortunate Candidates over. He doesn't go dashing away for some new spot however, as those knocked over seem fine. He'll wince agains hen the bronze tumbles next. "Just no luck!" he comments, before glancing aside to the closest Candidates around him. One of which is Stefan. "Holding up?" Quick check-in here! There's other belated check ins too, to the Impressed pairings he missed and he'll grin, then roll his shoulders a bit. Just gotta stick to it!

From the sands below, S'nar can't see but he can still boss people around just fine, so he's got the healthy ones eating and oiling properly as the last of the eggs crack. Francis leaves the Sands-Healers to their work and pauses briefly to help out P'quil. She glances up at Ferdi for a quick second and a smile curves her lips, then back to work.

From the sands below, Lorawyn has a bit of a sinking feeling in her stomach as the eggs begin to dwindle down and new riders get shuffled off to the side. When Yfana makes her way over, a brow lifts questioningly. "What?"

From the sands below, Look, this is super stressful, okay? Sun Dappled Lord of the Forest Bronze got left, he has no one and he was promised more than a bunch of sand and people who weren't THE RIGHT PERSON. So he sits his baby rump in a hollow of sand for quite some time as the chaos whirls around him, trying to gather his scattered angry baby thoughts before making one last push. The person is here, the person promised or maybe they didn't but does it matter? The bronze's sides heave with roiling dismay before he coils his muscles for one final play.

From the sands below, Works Just Fine Egg cracks, the breakage isolated to one spot in the smooth plain shell, and ever so slowly a damp, nearly-black limp works its way free. Then a long awkward pause before another pushes out beside it and with a final heave, Navigating by the Southern Cross Green Dragonet slips free of her safe harbor. She lays in a damp pile of spindly limbs until the warmth of the Sands seeps into her bones, then the dragonet surges to her feet on breathtakingly slender legs to pick her way, meticulous and spinner-like, towards the gathering of Candidates closest to her.

From the sands below, Navigating by the Southern Cross Green Dragonet
From the sands below, First of all, this green is large. Surprisingly large, and her startlingly skinny spindly form makes her seem to take up yet more space. She is not slender and not lanky but just plain skinny. Her form in some ways invokes that of a spinner, with her knobby limbs and kinked wings, neckridges seeming to almost strain through the shadowed hide of her reticulated neck. She is also wickedly dark in color, cloaked in a spruce green very near to black though her hide tends to lighten inconveniently where she is most protuberant, creating strange false shadows that make her look even more skeletal than she is. Her ebon wingsails, spread over whisper-thin spars, have the look of tattered sails. Of course she can't be gifted with proper proportions; her head seems too large for her neck and she sports a long crocodilian muzzle studded with sharp teeth, the points of which show even when her mouth is closed. Oddly enough, Ianayuth's headknobs are surprisingly pert and almost cute.

"Right, well no danger of that now," M'noq shoots back to K'vvan. He doesn't comment on the wingleader's statement on the status of Lynx, though of course the main reason he hauled his butt out of bed at 3 in the A.M. is because he wanted a look at the clutch. Then, to Doji: "There are a few things you can tell from the clutch as a whole as it hatches. You just have to pay attention." A knowing wink.

From the sands below, Navigating by the Southern Cross Green Dragonet turns her jewel faceted eyes toward Isadora, and steps forward.

From the sands below, Stefan bobs his head quickly to Nivaos. "Yeah, getting easier the longer it goes." he admits with a faint smile. "You alright?" he asks also with his gaze flickering quickly to Nivaos before looking back to the sands.

From the sands below, Hauled From the Depths Brown Dragonet looks more sand creature than dragon, but as the heat from the hatching grounds quickly dries him, the sand trickles away from that soft hatchling hide. He's still plodding around with that solid determination, studiously powering through any obstacle in his way. One hopeful candidate moves right in front of him, speaking warm words of welcoming and the small brown hatchling draws up to stop — maybe this is the one — but then he lets out a tiny high-pitched roar of protest before headbutting the boy's gut with a reserve of strength and knocking him flat to the sand. That's not who he wants. No. He clumsily stumbles past, moving onward.

From the sands below, Vani and Caelisth have reached the point where staring into each others eyes in wonder just isn't filling her stomach. Which stomach? Vani remains unsure. But her and her girl-power green are going to head on over to the weyrlingmasters with food to explore the options.

From the sands below, "We remain. They are taken." YFANA THOUGHT SHE WAS BEING CLEAR. "I did not think you would remain.
Doji frowns a bit at the mention of filling out wings, and the healer shudders a little, but doesn't say anything about casualties. Hatchings are supposed to be happy, right? "Like knowing how many greens versus browns versus bronzes? Since you have a general idea of what each color can will be capable of?"

From the sands below, Lorawyn frowns. "There's… still a few." SHE HASN'T LOST ALL HOPE YET.

From the sands below, Nivaos gives that nervous laugh again. Just a bit too high. "Oh yeah! I'm doing fine. Just swell! Guy beside me gets mauled twice… then the rest of this chaos!" He gestures outwards to the remaining eggs, dragonets and Candidates alike. "Great way to start the day." He's apparently found his voice, though he'll peer at that bronze for a moment. "You think he's gonna charge? He looks pissed." He'll jump a bit when the wandering brown roars and knocks the boy flat on the sands. "… oookay, going to watch that one too."

From the sands below, It's been rolling for a while now, gently rocking back and forth, but finally Blood Diamond Egg gives a final heave and a dark oil-slicked heap of bronze dragonet spills out, faceted eyes whirling ruby red with rage and hunger. The freed prisoner is the most deeply weathered metallic color and his body is fat and sleek as a salamander with stumpy legs, wings and tail. It seethes across the sands, snarling first at one group of Candidates and then another until finally he whirls in a spray of sand and pins a hapless fellow with his bulging eyes. The young man with golden hair stammers, "Y…y…yes, of course, Wrakarth. Right away." Coraster, now C'aster, follows his lifemate meekly off the sands.

From the sands below, Sun Dappled Lord of the Forest Bronze's final sortie starts out much like his others; angry, reckless, an ever-present hazard to those Candidates and siblings standing a little too close. The ferocity of his attack is completely stymied when his back finally catches up to his front and he spills muzzle-first into the Sands with a dismayed wail, then rises to snarl at a girl nearby who is foolish enough to try to help him despite an assistant weyrlingmaster's warning. He rights himself though, with a squall of dismay, and in the final charge he finally seems to find his goal. Nivaos. The growls turn to almost canine-like whimpers as he scrambles forward.

From the sands below, Sun Dappled Lord of the Forest Bronze Dragonet turns his jewel faceted eyes toward Nivaos, and steps forward.

"Good, mean's I'm doing it right." K'vvan is taking pleasure in being a bastard tyvm. "Each dragon is different."

From the sands below, Stefan is already watching the bronze. "I think he could totally charge." he agrees with Nivaos. Which explains why Stefan is praxtivally on tiptoes as he awaits. "Ooops." he manages to squeak out as the bronze goes muzzle first. Then suddenly he's coming close with has Stefan jumping to the left quickly and nearly falling as he watches the newly hatched bronze go towards Nivaos. There's a brief unreadble look to his expression before he's grinning and offering up a congratulations his way.

M'noq gives a little eye-roll at K'vvan's terse comment, before looking back at Doji. "Knowing what the color distribution is, is useful. Though you wait to see what the strengths and weaknesses are. Come graduation, hopefully you get assigned pairs that fit in and fill the needs you have." And that's way too much shop class for the occasion.

From the sands below, A'ndi just sits on the burning sands for a little while, carefully inspecting the parts of his dragon. Stretching out a wing to examine the sail, gazing closely at the right front foot. But finally that growing burn becomes /very/ apparent, as does Taliveth's hunger. The former-Ferdi stumbles to his feet, laughs stupidly, and guides his brown to some food.

A'hali can't wait here any longer. A gentle giant usually he is going to SHOVE PAST EVERYONE to get out of the galleries. HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY

From the sands below, Nivaos is about to put his dodging skills to work again when the bronze goes on the move, only to find that his feet aren't quite working. In fact, he is pulling quite the expression of open awe and completely stunned, even at the bronze's continued approach. If he gets bumped or nudged off balance, who cares? Automatically, he moves in and places his (shaking!) hands on the soft hide. "No, no! I'm not hurt at all… Tsiroth? Tsiroth. You missed me, actually! Kind of." Slowly, a grin works its way back into place and he'll get that classic dazed look to him. "Come on. I think we're to go over there and get you fed, bud." And just like that, Va'os leads the bronze away… hopefully without incident from either of them!

From the sands below, Spark in the Dark Egg, rattles. It rolls. A crack breaks shoots down the middle of it and it splits cleanly into two halves. Onto the sands tumbles a robust looking green, she shakes off the dampness of her shell and moves with halting steps forward. Then she encounters Imperial Gift egg, she bumps into it and it goes rolling across the sands. Pursuing the egg she displaced, she gives it a whack with her tail and a blue pops out. Together they travel the sands until they find a boy and a girl, respectively.

From the sands below, "I suppose there are." But Yfana is pretty sure that they are out. No one is watching right? So she can bend down and pick up a discarded shard of egg. Surprise colors her face as she cuts herself on the sharp edge. "Huh."

From the sands below, It was a difficult path across the hatching ground for Hauled From the Depths Brown Dragonet, with so many other dragonets abandoning sharp shards of eggs and making fast progress towards the waiting candidates. Small hills of pushed around sand had to be conquered. He's had to shove aside crowding candidates that try to catch his attention, flinging himself clumsily past them with so much disregard that he barely even registers their presence. He creels in frustration as he moves on, the sound hard on the ears and harder still on the heartstrings. Where is his rider?! Is there no one for him? There was another lone brown left on the sands not so long ago. Southern Weyr remembers that hatching keenly. Now only this one brown is left. The small hunter searches doggedly, struggling through the shell debris and across the hot sand with hunger and loneliness gnawing at his gut. A newly matched pair move to leave the sands and that's when Stefan is visible again. There he is! The determined little brown heads right to him, staring up at him.

From the sands below, Hauled From the Depths Brown Dragonet turns his jewel faceted eyes toward Stefan, and steps forward.

"Looks like it is all done. Let's get gone." K'vvan pushes himself up and is OUT before anyone can be all 'hey can you do this thing' for after the hatching.

From the sands below, Clementine steps away for a moment to scrawl out a message to someone.

Z'ok goes home.

From the sands below, Rhiannon wakes up somewhere around here, off to the sidelines, brought back in a wide-eyed rush of adrenaline. "Wait," the Igen transplant says to the Healer that comes looming back over. "What'd I miss?!"

From the sands below, Stefan finds himself nearly alone as Nivaos departs with a bronze. Shaking his head he is acutely aware of the heat, of many eyes upon him as he stands on the sands in just a plain white robe and sandals. Clearing his throat he barely has time to wonder what next when he senses rather than sees the impending brown headed his way. Turning his head he watches Bavyth approach and suddenly there's nothing else but him and the brown. "Oh!" he says outloud after sevreral long seconds or minutes. Time stopes for him as he reaches for the brown muzzle looking right at him. "Bavyth." he whispers then says it louder. "Bavyth! Let's find…" he looks around quickly and unsure. "Food?" there's a procedure to this right? Maybe. He tries hard to think what it could be!

From the sands below, It was… over? Lorawyn stares out at the mess of egg shells before glancing down at Yfana. She tears off a long piece of her robe from the bottom to wrap it around the cut. "I guess… this is it then," she murmurs as she stares back out.

"How many more eggs are left?" Doji peers down at the sands. With all the hatchlings, candidates and egg shells, it's kinda hard to tell what might or might not be an intact egg. She blinks as the wingleader declares it done and is out of there. "Huh. that was a lot quicker than I thought it would be."

From the sands below, Yfana switches the egg to the other hand, more careful this time. Surprise colors her face as Lorawyn wraps the piece of cloth around her bleeding hand. "It is it, and we remain." Still remain. "Do you want to go and get some drinks?" She jerks her head back at Rhiannon. "We could take her too, she would need it, after her fainting."

"I'll catch you later for the half mark you owe me," M'noq calls after K'vvan. He shoots a grin at Doji. "Yeah, all this waiting, and it's over in a heartbeat. But at least there's the party, you know?"

From the sands below, All eggs hatched, all dragonets partnered and Candidates left standing, it's time to start shuffling everyone off to their various barracks. Lower caverns staff shoo the remaining candidates off to finish sleeping away the night if they can, the dragonets and new riders are guided to the Weyrling barracks as soon as they are ready to relocate.

From the sands below, Lorawyn shakes her head slowly. "I…a moment. I think I need some air. Maybe later…" She offers Yfana an apologetic smile before turning on her heel and leaving the sands. To who knows where at this time of night.

From the sands below, A'idan's bed probably :3

From the sands below, Beat me to it.

From the sands below, "Very well." They're being shooed off, and so Yfana moves towards Rhiannon. "You want to go take a drink?"

From the sands below, Rhiannon looks a little wobbly. "Yes." And that's all she said.

From the sands below, So Yfana is just going to abscond with Rhiannon~ WEEEEEE. /endpose.

From the sands below, Nik'las walks to the Weyrling Barracks.

"Honestly, I didn't know there was a party. I just came to be somewhere that it wasn't over 100 degrees out. This seems absolutely pleasant after that." Doji grins back at M'noq, and then blinks as she remembers, she lost the people she came with. "They wouldn't go back to Igen without me, would they?" she's wondering this outloud.

From the sands below, Vulheimurath shuffles awkwardly to the Weyrling Barracks.

From the sands below, Vani walks to the Weyrling Barracks.

From the sands below, Tsiroth has left.

From the sands below, Tsiroth has arrived.

From the sands below, Va'os walks to the Weyrling Barracks.

From the sands below, Bavyth shuffles awkwardly to the Weyrling Barracks.

From the sands below, Ianayuth shuffles awkwardly to the Weyrling Barracks.

From the sands below, Stefan walks to the Weyrling Barracks.

From the sands below, Dora walks to the Weyrling Barracks.

From the sands below, Francis walks to the Weyrling Barracks.

From the sands below, Ferdinand walks to the Weyrling Barracks.

From the sands below, D'ex goes home.

From the sands below, Caelisth shuffles awkwardly to the Weyrling Barracks.

From the sands below, Moira walks to the Weyrling Barracks.

From the sands below, Itzyevnth has left.

From the sands below, D'ex walks in from the Candidate Barracks.

From the sands below, Taliveth shuffles awkwardly to the Weyrling Barracks.

From the sands below, A'idan walks to the Weyrling Barracks.

From the sands below, Lorawyn walks out.

M'noq shoots a grin at Doji. "I thought that's why people came here from all over Pern, for the free eats." Joking, right. "I'm sure you can find a lift back to Igen, if you don't run into the people you came with. They're probably already opening the wine."

Doji shrugs a little. "Probably most people come for the food. But an unexpected few for the weather. I wanted to avoid any more cases of dehydration or heatstroke, at least for the night. But looking for the food will probably be the most efficient way to find the folks I came with I guess."

Seashell suddenly disappears ::between::!

From the sands below, Clementine returns, sending a firelizard off to deliver the message.

M'noq nods to Doji. "True enough, and I'll probably head there eventually. Have fun at the party, all right?" He gives a wave and picks his way out through the loitering crowd.

Doji calls out quickly "Thank you!" before she gathers up her things and tries to set out. Surely if she follows the crowd, she'll find up at the food eventually, right?

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