High Reaches' 18th Hatching (Part 2)

Iasri hisses, moving back the way she came as she eyes that blue with near disdain. It's taking Vos away. Her eyes flicker down to the dragonet with a slightly jealous look. "'grats.." is all Iasri can muster, woefully as she watches Vos move away. Somewhere, tiny violins play.

Dredos catches Rhaenyra's glance, and in an almost bored tone of voice offers back, "Svitloth, I think?" He was involved in other conversations. "Svitleoth? Something."

Isabeau grins. "Congratulation's Vos!" Though she hesitates a moment over the name. Well she'll find out what he's calling himself later. She looks down at Darden and refrains from comment, though she does mention slyly to Dredos, "Be careful what you tease about. or who knows what you'll wind up with!"

Intoxicating Warrior Queen Gold Dragonet steps out now, yes, planting first one foot and then another with firm care. She sinks deeper into the sand than might be expected, pressing her way out from the wreckage of her shell with distinct care. She does not wander, no: she has a path to walk and paces it with deliberate care.

Jhairecki rubs at his ear again with his free hand. "Faranth, you go any higher and only dogs're going to be able to hear it," he says, grimacing at her voice in his eye. Then: "What the hell is up with these names?" as she stumbles over the latest to impress. He eyes Vostarik for a long moment, then drawls with a smirk, "Blue to get that green of Feilan's, you think?"

Kick Up A Row Brown Dragonet shakes loose a few egg pieces with a good wiggle of his head and rump. Ah, much better, nothing sticking to him now. The brown takes a sturdy step forward, his movements nice and strong. Unlike some of his other siblings, at least. The gold on the sands, his clutchsib, gets a neighborly type of nod, even if she doesn't spot it. That done, he starts towards the candidates, as instinct demands.

Brown v The Board of Education Egg births a pudgy brown whose hide resembles a meatball whirled in spaghetti, who immediately runs for a cheerful little girl from High Reaches. "Oh, Effessemth, you jokester, of course I believe in you!"

V'arik and Svitelloth make tracks over to the weyrlingmasters and other weyrlings. Long legs, the pair of them. And as the blue tears into a hunk of meat, Vos all but collapses to the sand, shock finally catching up to him as he watches the rest of the candidates blankly. Whoo.

Tilla tries to make sense of Vos's dragons' name but fails. "Svilla..Svilte, toth.." she sputters, and then gives up. Again, the gold and brown move and her eyes dart back and forth, trying to keep track of their movements. She momentarily forgets about the sweat dripping in her eyes, and keeps blinking, as the liquid stings. And then. Ouch. She shifts her foot deeper in her sandal to get it off the sands.

Isabeau's attention is now fully on the hatched dragons. The brown draws her attention more than the gold as she cocks her head to one side, a subconcious gesture as she just waits. She doesn't note the tension in her own shoulders, even though she'

Erarei, in a span of a hatching interim she finds, explores the faces in the crowds a little more. Her lifeline, Darden's sleeve, keeps an indirect connection. No relations of hers should be there, but the odds are against the candidate for confirming that. "This must be what stunned feels like…" As per Vos's Impression Rei feels one very warm cheek and the crooked grin on it. I do not envy Feilan for when his dragon must mate." Or, dociley, "maybe I should?"

Rhaenyra collapses into rather un-Rhaenish giggles. "Blue. For Feilan's green. Perfect." She beams up at Jhairecki, and then rocks back on her heels. "Ahh. Look at that -brown-," she suddenly states, staring across the sands. "Look at him, Jhai!" She tugs on his sleeve, all attention focused on the newly-hatched brown. "Wait. Did the gold hatch?" comes her next, confused question, as her gaze surveys the wreck of the Entropy egg; her gaze scans the sands quickly, and Rhae blinks as it lands on the pacing queenlet.

R'gis watches another pair Impress while he's shepherding V'arik, points the boy in the right direction and heads back to get the others from underfoot. He glances around for S'lo as he goes. "Come on, younglings. Off you get, give the others some room." he says, shooing the pairs toward the food and a slightly cooler environment at the edges of the Sands.

S'lo is just like a wherry with its head chopped off. One after the other, he is there to guide new weyrling pairs away from the hubbub! The girl and Effessemth are next, though probably led a bit more hurried than the others, shouting "Got her!" over to R'gis.

Iasri heard that. At least from what Rhaen had heard. "Shut up Rhae. Okay?" Comes a choppy, angry growl from the girl's mouth. If anything, her plan was to go back with the rest of the herders. Not alone. She jerks her gaze back towards the hatchlings, distainful look stuck on that gold. "Maybe Roza, if we think enough, she won't come towards us." Fingers crossed. The brown, big ol' guy, is given a passing glance. But not too much attention.

Jhairecki sighs. "Yeah, yeah, there's a brown. Catch up already," he tells her, shaking his head. "And yeah, gold's… somewhere." He's not concerned about that one—guy and all, you know. Anyway, he watches out for the rest of them, leaves her to ogle while he worries about charging hatchlings and the like.

Intoxicating Warrior Queen Gold Dragonet walks her line toward a pair of candidates waiting, her eyes never wavering. Her wings flick out at the last, balancing her and adding virtual mass: she fills the space around her. Her eyes go to… Jhairecki? No. She bares her teeth at him and snarls. MOVE, is the obvious command. Then she turns to Rhaenyra, and steps forward.

Intoxicating Warrior Queen Gold Dragonet turns her jewel faceted eyes toward Rhaenyra, and steps forward.

My Stapler in Jell-O Again Egg wiggles and jiggles, and cracks, sending a mischievous green shooting across the sands. "Wath!" exclaims the newly-Impressed and awe-stricken T'fug.

Kick Up A Row Brown Dragonet keeps on moseying around, checking out this candidate and that, and just not really feeling it from any of them. So he keeps on his journey, his sense of intuition obviously bringing him to someone. But who? Well, right now, he doesn't even seem to know. But the brown has an inkling, at any rate.

"Oh, hell," says Jhairecki abruptly. He lets go of Rhaenyra—even gives her a helpful little push forward toward the gold as he jumps back out of the way.

T'ii's hand clutches again, on — nothing. "Oh," he says, his voice quiet and slightly awed. "That's. Oh." His eyes are suspiciously wet.

Rhaenyra trips. On her own feet. How's that, for the grounded Herder journeyman who had dreams of returning to the pens, and barging her way to Masterhood? Plans never work. Rhaen— Rhaeyn— flails on her feet as Jhairecki swiftly exits, landing on her knees in front of the gold. "Ae… Aevryscienth," she states, her tone incredulous. "What? Are you out of your mind? I'm calling you Rys, and that's that," comes the rather dry comment from the herder, and she rises to her feet. "Her name is Aevryscienth!"

R'gis returns to the Sands just in time to see the Gold Impress. "Ahhh." he says softly, eyes sparkling at the newest goldrider … well, in a Turn or so at least. An exclaimation from close by causes him to turn toward the newly Impressed greenpair. "Alright, T'fug, let's go. Food for your green is just over here."

Tye sucks in a breath, her eyes on the gold dragon, fists clenched as she watches and waits. Faranth, the waiting blows. Blows so much. "Oh my," And her breath is let out as the gold dragon impresses. She moves out onto the sands once again. "Well, Weyrwoman Rhaen. I suggest you join your clutchsibs to the side. And be ready for a hell of a lifetime."


Nightmares and Nightingales Egg trades contemplation for violent action and lurches erratically from the comfort of its home. Like a thing gone mad, it attacks the Sands, taking friend and foe alike with glancing blows. It is a struggle of life and death as the beast within fights for breath and body. Cracks begin to form, chinks in the armor to be exploited, until finally the egg fetches up against a wall and shatters with all the brilliance of a crystal chandelier. When the flutter of shell and sand is gone, the space is empty, the occupant passed unseen to hide, gaunt features peeking out from betwixt a parental curtain of bronze sails and blue hide to watch the drama on the Sands unfold.

King of the Alley Bronze Dragonet
A rebel's burning gaze smoulders in an angel's face; he is a dragon slicked sweet, a too-cool attitude layered over hungry-lean lines. Bomber-jacket bronze hide fits snug, almost too-tight; it showcases the flex of rangy muscles and stretches taut down the whipcord length of his body, too-thin, ultra-slim, no excess here. Silver star-studs mark the leading edge of both wings, marching a merry path from shoulder-joint to wing-tip; in flight they blur, supernova-bright, but at rest they flare like diamonds in the sun. Intensity marks him: he is neither sinner nor saint, but a pauper's prince who skirts the line, just a swaggering step across the border from dark-side dangerous.


Is it too late to just start burrowing into the sands to maybe end up in Crom somewhere? S'lo stops and just stands there for a moment, taking a deep breath. And then he turns to Tye, almost pathetic-looking. "Is there any water out here?"

Darden beams, standing on his tiptoes, "Way to go, Rhaenyra!" He coughs into his fist, "Don'tdie."

Tilla gasps and jumps up and down. "Rhaen!!! You…gold…wow!!" words seem to have escaped the girl, atypically. "Aevry…" She doesn't even bother trying to pronounce that. And ooh, a bronze. Now, to keep track of the brown and bronze who are making their way across the sands.

Iasri lets out a happy sigh, an outward smile working its way to her mouth. "Oh shards, there goes Pern." She's stepping back to lean carefully on Roza's shoulder. "I think Herders and Guards are tied now." Her voice seems a bit sad. Poor Herder hall was losing good stock to the weyr at a terribly fast pace. "Contrats Weyrwoman." Is what Iasri calls out. Because, isn't that what she is now? Fancy knots for you!

Isabeau misses a beat when the gold impresses to… Rhaenyra? Does this mean she'd actually been RIGHT? why hadn't she bet on this hatching? She shakes her head and just cheers with a touch of irony in it, and trying very hard not to laugh at herself.

Dredos stares after Rhaenyra and the new gold for a long time. Gaze only breaks to look over to T'ii, and then once more he's all about the hatchlings, clearing his throat just a little.

Duct Tape or Baling Wire Egg explodes with some force, leaving a canny and capable bronze on the sands, who Impresses a boy from Southern Boll. "Really, Guyverth?" M'ac queries, "You did all that with a few grains of sand, a piece of shell, and your own tooth?"

Dex sees the gold. Dex sees Rhaenyra. Dex sees… "Oh. Oh… Rh…" She can't speak, clutching her chest. At first, there's a slight jealousy… But it fades, quicker than it even set in. The tears falling before almost start again. She's hopeful, again. She's hopeful. "Tye, it's Rh— I—…" The smile envelopes her face, and she crumples down, as she feeds Nazkriuulth, or whatever it is she's supposed to be doing. Her hand rests on Naz's head for a moment, as she stares at the new Weyrwoman with enlightened respect, the respect she's always had.

Darden stares at the bronze, captivated for a moment by a young boy's hope. "Wow," he breathes. "He's so….cool and popular! Is it odd that I want to go beg him to let me into his group?"

Rozalija lets out a breath she knew she was holding the entire time the gold was out on the sands. "Faranth," she breaths out in a sigh and a little shake of her head. "At least it didn't go to us," she says in obvious relief. She leans back against the taller form of Iasri, shaking her head. "I… I hope this is going to be almost over. But it's going to be very lonely and quiet in the Hall after this." And is that relief in her voice? Maybe.

Jhairecki is still staring at the gold, and Rhaenyra. Rhaeyn. What's-her-face. "Hell," he repeats. Time to get out of here fast: like the ground of impression's cursed or something. He slinks backward away from it, heading vaguely toward some of the other candidates still hanging around. Forget the dangerous dragons roaming still; he looks more unsettled by being so close to the latest to choose.

Kick Up A Row Brown Dragonet stops suddenly as a breeze comes off of the exit from the sands. Mmm. Yeah, he digs that. Whirling eyes close a moment and he just sits back and enjoys the feeling. Eyes snap open then, and his eyes narrow in, almost instantly, on the one. That feeling? Yeah, it's stronger than ever. The brown takes off at a good stride, legs over legs, never once even faltering. Until he's right in front of the gal of his dreams. Hey lass, would you have me?

Kick Up A Row Brown Dragonet turns his jewel faceted eyes toward Iasri, and steps forward.

"And another bronze," T'ii mutters under his breath. He makes an abortive reach for his face, but that arm is still braced, though no longer in its sling; instead he must loose his broken hand from its invisible hold, and pass the back of his hand across his eyes. Just a little … something there.

Rhaeyn rises to her feet. "Rys. Stop. No. Rys. Stop. I can walk. STOP. Don't boss me!" comes the defiant statement from Rhaenyr—er, Rhaeyn, her chin imperiously lifted as she just eyes the gold dragonet. "I can handle myself just fine thank you very much." Then, the proper daze finally sets down on her shoulders, and she blinks as she staggers towards the sidelines, towards Tye, and her future. Ahem, her and /Rys'/ future together.

Erarei goes into action as the gold hatchling, the one glimpsed between unhatched eggs only moments before, gains Rhaenyra. Hopefully Darden isn't too attached to his sleeve. One grand leap later and the girl's eyebrows lower willfully. "I cannot pronounce these dragon names. But! Well earned!" Dragon name tactfully absent, but completely heartfelt. "He looks like the kind who /likes/ begging," channeled into Dar's left ear.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Vostarik is muttering as Rhaenyra impresses - and Iasri to brown. He doesn't even have eyes for the bronze hatching - why should he? "My life is over." So much for ever getting out from under Rhae's authority .. or Iasri's .. uh. Svitelloth, uncaring, slobbers meat-juice on V'arik's outstretched leg.

Curious Yellow Egg gives a wriggly, shivery little wiggle with excitement. Or possibly simply the desire of the hatchling inside to escape. It settles again, but with a faint air of eagerness, or perhaps just the reasonable expecation that it will probably hatch soon.

Tilla goggles at how fast the impressions seem to be happening. "Iasri! Oh, congrats Iasri!" She tries to breathe again, and makes some progress in that effort. She turns her attentions to the Curious Yellow egg, but squints. Movement? Hrm. She'll have to look again, the heat may be playing tricks.

Darden isn't /that/ attached to it. "You okay?" he asks Erarei, concerned.

R'gis touches M'ac lightly on the shoulder and waves him toward the side of the Sands. "Come along, get your hatchling fed now." he says. "It's not far and then he can rest."

Mackems vs Toons Egg hatches to reveal a buff green who charges across the sands to slide into place before a sporty lad from Igen, who changes his name to W'pin as soon as he gets over his surprise. "Yes, Aath, we are going to kick butt, together."

Tye just shakes her head at S'lo. "You've been out here before. Either you bring your own or you suck it up till its over." She tsks at her newest and youngest weyrlingmaster. "Now go do your job! And good choice of that brown out there. That girl seems to have a good head on her shoulder when she's not beating up weyr-children."

For a moment, Iasri is about to answer Roza, turn and nod, mouth ready to posit a response. But then, there is none. Because her gaze is instinctively pulled away, a moment's shock and then an explosion of a smile, the first in a long time. "What?" She speaks breathlessly, bending down to meet the brown's gaze. "You can call me whatever. And you're… Vos?" A headtilt. "His name's Vos.. Vosteyath!"

King of the Alley Bronze Dragonet is a low-down, bad refrigerator: he is just /too cool/ for these sands. Which is why it takes a low rumble from Bandeleth to send him out onto them. He struts, fanning his wings out to dry them faster, as he begins his exploration of the sands. He's lookin' for a wingman, a partner in crime — but no one catches his eye.

"Yes ma'am," S'lo's voice cracks as he quickly snaps her a pathetic excuse for a salute before turning and scanning. There's one! And he's off to herd them towards the edge.

V'arik's head comes up to eyeball Iasri. "His name's /what/?" This cannot be happening.

Darden cracks up, right there. "His name is…is…Vos?! Hahahahaha." There's a slightly hysterical edge to that laugh, but he gulps in air, wipes sweat from his face, and calms down.

L'fei will just sit by..and crack up.

Dex chuckles in her hand, trying not to get too amused, but… It's really hard not to. Especially at V'arik's comment.

Rozalija shifts to the side away from the brown dragon with wide eyes. "C-congrats, Iasri," she says softly as she realizes her friend was suddenly looking to the brown instead. She smiles at the name and muffles a giggle now. "And Vos… Congrats." Yup. She steps to the side, alone now, and shifts on her heated feat to wait.

Jhairecki says, "Vost—" That's as far as he gets before his mouth twitches and he coughs into a hand to hide his snicker. It's not particularly effective. Or, okay, it's not remotely effective snicker-hiding.

Rhaeyn would be cracking up, if not for Aevryscienth's demands for food.

Tilla sputters, and coughs, and just laughs at the irony of Iasri's dragon's name. She has her own Vos. Her own Vos forever and ever. "Darden, she has a vos now. A vos!!!" She gasps a bit and then tries to breathe..again, looking forward to when she can get a drink of water later.

Isabeau gives a token cheer for Isari. She only knew the girl passingly, once more she'll save her attention for the hatching and offer personal congratulations at the feast later. There would be time. There was always time there. She turns resolutely back to the hatched dragonettes and the egg. Then she catches the name and her head whips back around in a picture perfect double take, and she laughs, unable to cheer any longer, and completely forgets about hatchlings or eggs for a long moment.

Darden giggles, and then looks around. "Roza!" he calls, waving her over, "Come stand with us!" Their numbers are dwindling…they have to stick together.

Flowing River Egg shakes and quakes, then bursts with the force of the beastly bronze within. He flexes his muscles, then strides leisurely across the sand to Impress a stunned G'sus. "Heracleith!" At the same moment, Bold and Beautiful Darkness Egg disintegrates and the energetic blue within sweeps a startled Tink off her feet. "What did you say, Panth? Third star to the right, and straight on till morning?"

Iasri is moving off the sands, Vos in tow, a sauntering sway from the two of them both, as they get herded towards those awaiting buckets o' meat scraps. And the girl is grinning, a shit eating, wide toothy grin. Someone just found the love o' her life.

Dredos smirks a little as the name declared by Iasri is processed. Then a look to the bronze. "Looks lost." Commented to whomever will listen.

R'gis catches the byplay from the newly Impressed and remaining Candidates and grins. Must be an inside joke. Two hatchlings Impress at almost the same moment and moves in that direction. "Come on, G'sus, Tink." he calls. "Let's get your lifemates some food. It's this way." He shoos the two newest pairs toward the food, rather hoping that S'lo hasn't passed out from the heat.

Tilla tries to not linger on thirst, or nerves..but what is left. Looking at the sands..and the bronze that is lumbering around. And a certain Herder friend of hers who moves off the sands delightedly. She shakes her head, grinning, and then attentions return to the wobbling eggs and dragonets.

King of the Alley Bronze Dragonet passes through the sea of white; candidates get /out/ of his way, or get bowled over. He shows no interest in any of the girls, save for a few … appreciative … glances sent the way of his older clitchsiblings. How /you/ doin', hot st— oh, right. He begins slowing, his perusal of the young men on the sands beginning to grow more intense. You? No, too much of a wimp. You? No, not enough style.

Curious Yellow Egg gives a little shiver, a shudder, and then with an almost musical sound, the egg cracks down the middle, the two pieces falling away almost whole as the dragon within uncoils and stretches.


Curious Yellow Egg dances a merry jig, hops up out of its sandy hovel, and rolls down to bump up against a still-unhatched sibling. Knock knock! Who's there? It manages to tap itself a crack, through which a dainty tail emerges. A few moments more, and a luscious hind end follows, backing out of the remains. What an embarrassing start to life!

Marylou Freebush Green Dragonet
With all the glitz and glam of pageant season, this graceful, curvaceous green sashays across the stage of life. A glittering gem in nature's diadem, the sun-dappled glow of late summer sets her verdant hide aflame in the finest fashion of the season. Against vibrant kelly: a splash of maple follows the attenuated ridge of her backbone, from twixt dainty headknobs, 'cross narrow shoulders and haunches to the elegant curl of her tail; fiery amber twines long tapering spars, fading to honeyed wheat within the silken canvas of her sails; moss flourishes in the shadows about her willowy limbs, making evening gloves of dainty paws. A sweet face of plump apple cheeks and fulsome curves about eye and jaw is marred only by a black spot on the very tip of her delicate snout.


Erarei adjusts Darden's robe to give more coverage to his clavicle. There! "Sorry, I was excited. Like anyone can stay calm here except for maybe Jhairecki." Tilla's exuberance for Iasri's dragon's name is bolstered by her own amused contribution. Then it comes time to cough some of the dry heat out of her throat.

Darden nods at Erarei, gulping down his nerves, "S'okay. I'm…I'm real nervous, now." He looks over at Tilla and gives her a smile.

Rozalija heard her name somewhere in the mess of dragons hatching, and she turns her eyes in the direction of Darden with wide eyes. "Sure!" Safety! She starts side-stepping that way, hoping not to bring too much attention to herself among the dragons still roaming, thoughher eyes are on th few eggs that were left.

Tilla 's attention is riveted to the captivating green who has danced her way onto the sands. "Darden..darden..look at that green. She reminds me of the green fields…" She puts both hands on either cheek, just gaping..and staring. And staring.

CAT-aclysmic Contest Egg seems to eat itself, imploding with the soul-swallowing force of the cuteness within. Innocent and sweet, the cutest little kitten green pauses to blink at the line of white in the distance. Dragon can has candidates? She starts towards them and stumbles, planting her muzzle in the sands. Oez noes! Sands has dragon! A forever snarky young woman from High Reaches runs out to assist the green in a sudden fit of generosity. Shocked, she gazes into the whirling eyes, "Why, yes, Lolth, you can call me Cat."

Darden gives Tilla a nudge and a smile, "Hope she's yours," he whispers. "Hi, Roza! Yeah, safety in numbers and all that. And…it's less likely I'll faint if someone's there to catch me." Nervous smile.

Just as S'lo turns back, another candidate impresses. At least he doesn't have to go far for this one. "Foooollow me! She's really pretty." In case Cat couldn't see for herself.

Isabeau angles herself a little more towards the green. She paid only enough attention to the bronze to keep out of his way. There was no use waisting her time, the shouting would alert her to when he impressed.

Jhairecki, calm? Maybe superficially. But without Rhaenyra to deafen him and keep him distracted, he's getting shifty again, moreso than even the scalding sands warrant. "C'mon, how many more…?" Mostly to himself, his mouth tightening as the numbers on the sandsdragons and candidatesshrink further.

Tilla tries to grab Darden's hand to squeeeze in support. She bites her lip, saying nothing, just watching the sands. Bronze and Green, wavering in the shimmering heat, sweat and nerves. She crosses her legs. SHARDS why did she drink so much water! Ugh.

Iasri is shooting V'arik shit eating grins all while stuffing her lifemate. Is she whistling? "Vosteyath." She seems to crow, "Got my own Vos now." Success!

Rhaeyn glances over to the bronze on the sands, while feeding her.. lifemate. Interesting word to try out. "You know who he reminds me of?" she questions to L'fei, a devious smirk on her face.

Marylou Freebush Green Dragonet turns around, reorienting herself. She lifts up her head to survey the candidates; now that she has her bearings, she lifts her head in a much more dignified manner and gives a little shake, as if to put her backwards escape from the egg firmly behind (so to speak) her.

White Ribbon of World Domination Egg spills a lanky brown onto the sands who dances his way towards his chosen M'kael. His voice pitched high in sudden awe, the young Harper stares at the brown. "Other four? What are you talking about Jacksonth?"

King of the Alley Bronze Dragonet is edgy, by now, restless as he shifts from candidate to candidate. No, no, no— his shoulders twitch hard, and he jerks to a stop. His head whips around, and when he starts moving again it is with renewed purpose. He makes a low, irritated noise like the rev of an engine, plowing through anyone dumb enough not to get out of his way now that he has his goal in mind. When he nears it, his movement slows again; there is a swagger in his step as he reaches Jhairecki, and comes to a stop. Yo, whatchoo doin'?

King of the Alley Bronze Dragonet turns his jewel faceted eyes toward Jhairecki, and steps forward.

Rozalija shakes head head slowly towards Darden with a giggle. "Hi, and… and don't worry, I'll try to catch you if you fall." She was pallid still, and her amber eyes don't last long on the other candidates before turning back to watch the hatching.

S'lo can kill two birds with one stone! "Over here!" and "Over here!" is yelped to the two newest weyrling pairs, fingers snapping and then pointing in the direction that he's headed.

V'arik's life appears to be falling apart around him. All except for Svitelloth, who's sprawled in food coma across V'arik's shins. "And JHAI?" Oh, lord.

Tilla jumps up and down. And then stops herself, this is a bad idea with a full bladder. "Jhai! Congrats Jhai!!" A flurry of activities catch her field of view across the sands. And then, that green. She takes another look..and then tries to look away, mustn't stare, its kinda rude. But she's kinda doing that anyway.

Erarei violently smooths the trailing end of her braid with the only free hand allowed. But that is the only bit of anxiety she'll submit to. "Catching a draft over there?" Jhairecki the Lonesome bated. But that's pre-bronze and now the wily candidate won't ever be solitary again.

49,888 (And One Chicken) Egg and Peyton Can't Win at Foxboro Egg collide, sending shards flying and two bulky blues spilling to the sands. They right themselves and almost immediately begin to fight: tooth, claw, and tail. The brawling figures tumble inexorably towards the thinning line of candidate white. Rozalija, unable to get out of the way fast enough, gets tossed, like a sack of wheat, before the scratched and bruised pair fall apart before their respective lifemates, each sporting bruises of their own. "Titanth, are you all right?" "Gianth, you ninny, look at what you've done!"

Darden gulps at Rozalija and nods, "Thanks. Oh! Jhai! Congratulations! He's so cool!" Then he shrieks, jumping out of the way of the tumbling dragons. "Roza!" he cries, darting over to her.

R'gis moves toward M'kael and points off toward the bowls of food. "Come on, let's get Jacksonth some food." he says. He glances around the Sands once more and chuckles slightly as he watches the Bronze Impress. "Come on, this way, Weyrling." he says, raising his voice to the new bronzepair since S'lo doesn't seem to be in evidence at the moment.

Rhaeyn simply beams. She's good at that.

Isabeau is in the midst of cheering for Jhairecki when Roza gets run over. She reaches out trying to grab Darden, shouting after him. "Do you want to get run over yourself? The healer's will get here clear!" They don't need any /more/ injuries tonight shards and shells!

T'ii makes a noncommital sort of noise, having managed to abort his turn to comment before he could complete the motion, this time.

Shazi starts. "Oh, sh- Oh, cr- Oh, no… Someone make sure she's okay?" Shazi shouts as she watches Rozalija go down. She gestures for the Healers on Standby at the edge of the sands. "Candidate down!"

Marylou Freebush Green Dragonet picks up her chin and begins a remarkably light walk towards the candidates, her head high, almost gliding as she sways her sinuous curves. Yes, that is much more like it. She looks just a little bit smug as she moves.

Rhaeyn isn't beaming at Roza's mauling, though, belatedly; she was beaming about Jhai. At Roza's maulation, she turns a ghastly shade of white.

An edgy young man for an edgy dragon; Jhairecki's shooting looks back toward the exits about the time the bronze starts his way. "Hey," he says at first, automatic. And then he looks around at what's saying 'hey' to him. "Zsissa-what?" It is an auspicious beginning, with the swaggering dragon and Jhairecki, for once, looking wordless, wide-eyed, maybe even a little terrified. "Zsivanyoth." At least they've got that much down.

Dredos makes an exclamation of the likes that shouldn't be repeated as Rozalija gets tossed, and then barks a, "Darden!" alongside Isabeau's warning.

And two more impress simultaneously. The job's just getting easier as it progresses. Once the first two pairs are abandoned, S'lo heads towards Titanth, Gianth and their new lifemates, ushering sideways. "Let's go, let's go."

Iasri catches her breath for a moment. That whole confrontation on the sands makes her edgy and uncomfortable, and she's rising to her feet. "Hope she's okay."


Angels and Demons Egg does not appear to be doing much, the battle within unfolding unseen. With nary a peepno rocking, no bobbing, no bouncing, no rollingdiminutive cracks mottle the surface, invisible to the naked eye. In moments, the fight is over, the shell bursting with the insistent pressure from within to leave a blood-tarnished brown warrior. Sinner or saint, he appears ready for anything.

Tarnished Legend Brown Dragonet
The taint of old blood, deep crimson faded to rust, tarnishes the Cimmerian hide of this world-weary warrior: a faint spattering at throat and sides coalesces against his broad chest and pools in the shadows about sinewy limbs and capable paws, the true spoils of war. Sanguine-splashed sable, the broad-planed features of his blunt muzzle and round face bear the intangible scars of battle in a certain hardness about his mouth, and a wariness in his gaze. A stalwart brown, efficiently built, wiry musculature lends strength to an otherwise long and lean frame. He is dignified despite the wear of obscurity on his sienna clad form: pale gold dusts the noble curve of his headknobs and the sharp spur of 'ridges; against the hefty cloak of sails faded to mahogany, the flake and curl of aged gilt reveals the chipped length of ebon spars. The iron heft of his slender tail and the dull gleam of steel-tipped claws serve as warning: look on me, ye Mighty, and despair!


Dex simply stares and glares. Because she's awful at it. Not. Honestly, Jhairecki's Impression makes her curl down in near agony, especially when it's /bronze/. Oy, At least she never has to worry about being flown by him, right? "This is…" She rolls her eyes, before rubbing her arms slowly.

Tilla 's head whips around. "Roza!" She shrieks. But she sees that several have run to her aid,and there's no room for her to stand. So she stands half way between Roza and the rest of the candidates..and dragonets, looking torn, biting her lip. A brown? Wow..this is a classy looking one. She wipes her forehead again, moving her hair from her eyes. It seems to be sticking everywhere. EWw.

Rozalija didn't turn fast enough! Or well, she did but kind of just stood there staring as a pair of dragons suddenly come running her way. And not stopping, apparently. She goes flying, bowled over by the two dragons, and lands with without a sound coming from her except for a sickening crack those closer might be able to hear as she lands on her arm. She rolls onto her back, gash on her leg from one of the wild dragons, and finally groans out.

Darden looks up and around, a hand on Roza's shoulder if she doesn't flinch away from him, "It'll be alright, Roza. The Healers are coming soon. I'll keep watch." And he does, crouching by her side with his eyes sweeping the Sands.

The Eternal Struggle Egg cracks and slips to the sands, leaving a slinky, sensual green in its wake. She eases across the sands and twines herself around a very handsome young man from Keroon. "Lilith!" cries a shocked Aldamar, now A'dam.

The Healers on standby run to Roza's side, quickly assessing her injuries and getting her onto a stretcher to drag her off to the infirmary.

Darden reluctantly leaves Roza in good hands and shuffles back to Tilla's side, gulping and wiping away at his sweat.

Marylou Freebush Green Dragonet seems to sense someone staring at her, but when a bunch of eyes are drawn to blood, her own attention is distracted from the candidates upon whom she bears down. She looks around, and the distraction makes her catch her own front feet together and suddenly, Miss Freebush takes a spill, falling flat on her chest, her neck stuck forward, driving her chin into the sand, right at Tilla's feet and looking up, straight in her eyes.

Marylou Freebush Green Dragonet turns her jewel faceted eyes toward Tilla, and steps forward.

Dredos steps forward to offer, "She's got healers, she'll be all right," to the candidates near him. Though he keeps sending cautious looks toward Rozalija.

Somehow, eventually, Jh'rek and Zsivanyoth get off the sands. Ignorant of maulings behind them, the new-made bronzerider follows off the sands to get the dragon fed. At some point, there'll probably be smirking and gloating or something of that nature. For now, there's just that frozen, stunned expression and mechanical movements.

Erarei mutters too freely, "son of a blue-faced Bitran," as Roza is gored and Isabeau's sharpness to Darden is sense enough to make her think twice too. "C'mon, c'mon," as if healers move quicker when goaded by a girl. Everything is emotion to the extreme. "Careful!" Tugging Darden away from Tilla and green!

Bloodfeud at the Tug River Egg is battered from within. After a long struggle, it finally gives way to a short and fat blue who immediately Impresses to a long and thin fellow from the back of beyond of Southern. "Yep! I'm Sk'ter! An' yore Cooth! Pleased ta meetcha!"

Isabeau watches Darden and grimaces. He didn't get himself mauled and she can't fault his compassion, definitely a good kid. As the healers come to collect Rosa she turns back to the eggs. She missed seeing the brown hatch but he catches her attention now, much more than the green. Her mouth goes round in surprise. She almost misses Tilla's impression even though it's right next to her, beware of shiney objects that distract the mind. "Tilla?" Then she grins and cheers. "Tilla! Don't keep us waiting for her name!"

Darden jumps away from Tilla just as suddenly, beaming at her, "Congratulations, Tilla!" He's tugged by Erarei.

Tilla gapes, and cries, and falls to her feet. And hugs her new lifemate. Tears streaming down her face. "Amuirnith! Her name is Amuirnith!" She tries noto to faint and barely gets back onto her feet, looking for..the way to go..and the way to the bathroom.

R'gis watches as the Healers converge on the downed Candidate and goes back to his job of shepherding Impressees. "Come on Sk'ter." he says. "Let's get you some food, Cooth." He waves toward the sidelines where the food waits.

Rozalija flinches at a touch from Darden and then the Healers as well, when they arrive, but she was cradling her arm and groaning most of the time. She makes little trouble for the Healers that have arrived afterwards, allowing them to take her off the sands as quickly as possible.

S'lo attempts to whistle but fails. Mouth's too dry or something. So instead, he sidles up to Tilla and grins. "This—uh. You gonna be alright?" He'll offer his arm. "We gotta go this way."

Godzilla vs. Bambi Egg hatches a green who, surprise of surprises, Impresses to Bambi from Benden. "Gojirath is a funny name for a green!" Further surprise attends the hatching of blue Macth from Right Click Button Egg, who promptly Impresses to P'see.

Tilla nods, looking totally dazed and as if in a dream. She takes S'lo's arm, gingerly..after wiping it off on her pants, and puts her hand on the back of Amu's head, guiding her along the pathway that is suggested.

Tarnished Legend Brown Dragonet shakes the goo from his hide with a quick shudder, then pulls himself up into a regal stance to study the candidates at hand with a cool eye. Something seems to capture his attention, and he begins a slow lope to close the distance.

R'gis laughs as S'lo attempts to whistle and fails, apparently he forgot to bring a waterskin to the Sands. "Come on, you two." he calls, waving Gojirath, Macth and their lifemates toward the sidelines. "Let's get you all fed."

The Skye Boat Egg hatches a somber and defeated green who Impresses to a sweet lass from Crom who goes by the name of Bonni. "Hello, Charlith. It'll be okay." At the same time, Battle for Cybertron Egg transforms into a boxy bronze who Impresses to a scrawny fellow from Tillek, "Yes, sir! I mean, Optimuth!" cries the stricken P'rime.

Erarei slumps with a simultaneous sigh for so much elation shadowed by tragedy. "It is a wonder," spoken in their dwindling group, "that our minds do not all crack with the eggs."

Isabeau takes a deep breath, both the candidates' ranks, the eggs', and the hatchlings' ranks are all being pared away, but the last two far more quickly than the first. She sets one foot a little forward of the other as if bracing against something and keeps her eyes on the brown, murmuring something to herself as she watches the brown, who at least seems to still be looking.

Darden nods up at Erarei, "I feel like mine is bending," he admits.

Dredos nods, shifts, does the dance all over again. "It's the heat. And the noise."

R'gis sees the new Impressees to the side of the Sands and heads back out to gather up the newest bunch. "Come on Bonni, P'rime." he says, beckoning them toward him. "Let's go, you need to get off the Sands …. feed the hatchlings."

Tarnished Legend Brown Dragonet increases in speed to close the distance between himself and a particular figure. Her. There. He skids to a halt, chest heaving lightly with exertion, to gaze down at the woman whose hobby has literally rubbed off on her. He is looking no more. He has found his 'mate.

The last egg, Which Came First: Chicken or Egg, finally hatches, sending a stodgy green to find her mate in the scattered remains of the candidate line. She salutes an equally stodgy fellow from High Reaches. "G'day, Brooth. I'm B'roos."

Tarnished Legend Brown Dragonet turns his jewel faceted eyes toward Isabeau, and steps forward.

Is it almost over? As the newest pairs impress, S'lo flaps his arms feverishly and motions for them to follow him. "Over here!" he calls, out of breath, waiting for them to walk towards him. It's just easier that way.

Tye moves into the heat, shimmered and blurred by the ripples that rise off the Sands.

R'gis returns to the Sands yet again from shooing new lifemates toward the food. "B'roos! Come this way, boy. Get Brooth some food." he says, stepping back into the heat. "Come on, girl, come feed your 'mate." He joins S'lo in urging the newest Impressees to the sidelines.

Isabeau freezes in position as the brown stops infront of her. She smiles slowly, though she can't quite believe she's taking this so pragmatically, or at least her reflexes are. Her mind is spining. "Yes, Krobeskeluth, It would seem we both have a long way to go…" She murmurs to the brown, full attention on him . "We can discuss it over your dinner…" This is spoken a little louder as she shakes herself into motion and leads the dragon… her dragon off the sands towards the weyrling masters.

As the last eggs hatch and the final dragons find their lifemates, T'ii steps forward and away from the sanctuary of Bandeleth's forelegs; away from Shazi, away from the empty space where Chey is supposed to be. He bumps the brim of his hat backward with a splinted hand, and squints restlessly out at the sands. He starts to speak, then stops and frowns, looking over and away for a moment. His head is tilted slightly, as if he's listening, but there is still no one there. He nods, though, and looks back out at the sands, then up to the stands as he clears his throat. "Please leave," he says simply, his voice rough. He scratches under his chin again, then makes shooing motions toward the candidates who haven't Impressed, to the spectators in the sands. "Now. Please go." Shoo. Shoo, shoo.

Darden watches the last of the dragons Impress, and the blinks. He sways a bit, and then looks over at those who did. He gives them a brave smile and a wave before going, as requested.

Erarei's chest stays tight as the eggs hatch. After the eggs have all hatched does she think to let some of that tension go. She follows the remainder of candidates with a last, longing, glance to the galleries.

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